#Friday lunchtime run

[bluedesignwall]

The sky was very dramatic from the get go today and why not. So glad it is Friday and the weekend is almost here. I seem to have collected more than the usual amount of sand in my shoes on that run. Hope your Friday has some sky drama in it.

[theonottsbxtch]

WHATS LEFT BEHIND PT.5 | MV1

an: FINAL PART LETS GO! i actually now need myself a bull rider boyfriend. call me a buckle bunny but im booking my flights to texas NEOW

summary: when max verstappen left his childhood girlfriend behind to face her career ending injury alone to chase his dreams of being the best bull rider the country has ever seen, he thought it would be easy. except it wasn't, he was back in town and they hated him, for one reason. they hurt their star barrel racer.

wc: 5.3k

part one | part two | part three |

A week had passed since Max had started working at the barn, and, as much as he’d hoped things would smooth over quickly, she hadn’t exactly made life easy. She didn’t make his life hell, but she sure as hell made him work for every bit of her attention—and he was determined not to back down.

Every morning started the same. He’d roll up before dawn, grabbing her usual coffee order along with his own, and leave it on her desk in the barn’s office before heading out to do whatever Leslie had lined up for him. She never said thank you, but he noticed the empty coffee cups in the trash each afternoon. That was a win, even if she refused to acknowledge it.

But the rest of the day? She kept him on his toes. Whether it was piling on extra chores��cleaning the muck out of the hardest-to-reach stalls, fixing a fence she’d “forgotten” to mention was half-broken, or rearranging hay bales just after he’d finished stacking them—she  found ways to keep him busy.

She didn’t nag or yell, though. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, she went about her work like he wasn’t even there, leaving him with that cool, indifferent attitude that drove him half-crazy. And yet, in those quiet moments, when he’d catch her out of the corner of his eye, he’d sometimes see her watching him, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face before she turned away.

It was enough to keep him going.

That Friday, Max found himself knee-deep in the back stalls, mucking out the worst of the mess while she worked in the far corner, brushing down one of the horses. The barn was quiet, except for the occasional whinny or shuffle of hooves. He glanced up every now and then, hoping for a chance to talk to her, but she kept her distance, focused on her task.

When lunchtime rolled around, he wiped the sweat from his brow and tossed the shovel to the side. His arms ached, and he could feel the strain in his back from the week’s work, but he wasn’t about to complain. He’d do anything to stay in her orbit, no matter how many stalls he had to clean or fences he had to fix.

He stepped outside, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air. The sun hung high, casting a warm glow over the fields. She walked out a few minutes later, heading toward her truck. He figured she’d drive off like she had been doing all week, probably to meet Heidi for lunch or to run errands.

But then she paused at her door, glancing back at him.

"You missed a spot in stall five," she said, her tone deadpan, though he swore he saw the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

Max wiped his hands on his jeans and shot her a grin. "I’ll get right on that."

She raised an eyebrow. "Better."

She didn’t wait for his response, just climbed into her truck and drove off, leaving a trail of dust in her wake.

And an hour later, when Max had finished the stalls, double-checking the one she’d pointed out. It was spotless, of course, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of calling her out on it. He was learning her rhythm—the small ways she tested him, the subtle pushes to see if he’d break. But he wasn’t about to.

As he stepped out of the barn, wiping the dirt off his boots, Leslie walked up, arms crossed, watching him with an amused look.

"She’s making you work for it, huh?" Leslie said, her voice laced with amusement.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Is it that obvious?"

Leslie smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, it’s clear as day, cowboy. She might not say much, but she sees everything. And trust me, she’s watching you closer than you think."

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I figured as much."

"You holding up okay?" Leslie asked, more serious now. "She’s not making it easy, but if anyone can handle it, it’s you."

Max glanced back toward the direction her truck had disappeared. "I’ll take whatever she throws at me. I owe her that much."

Leslie nodded, her expression softening. "Just don’t push too hard, alright? She’ll come around. Maybe slower than you’d like, but she will."

Max let out a breath, his determination still strong. "I’m not going anywhere."

"Good," Leslie said, giving him a pat on the arm before walking off.

As the afternoon wore on, Max stayed busy with his tasks, but he couldn’t help thinking about her, about how she kept her walls so high, how she tested him day after day. But he wasn’t here for an easy win. He was here to make things right.

And if that meant mucking out stalls and rebuilding fences until she finally let him in? So be it.

Later that evening, she was sat in Heidi's kitchen, her hands wrapped around a warm mug of tea. Heidi was perched on the counter, scrolling through her phone before glancing up at her, who had been unusually quiet for most of their hangout.

"You alright?" Heidi asked, narrowing her eyes with a knowing look. "You seem... distracted."

She sighed, leaning back against her chair. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long week."

Heidi gave her a pointed look. "Or maybe it's not the work that's tiring you out, but who you're working with."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "Please, Heidi. Don't start."

Heidi grinned, hopping off the counter and leaning in closer. "Come on, angel. I’ve seen the way he’s been busting his ass at the barn. Everyone has. He’s practically on call for any chore you throw at him. You’ve got to admit, he's putting in the effort."

She sipped her tea, her expression softening despite herself. "Yeah, maybe. But it doesn’t change anything, Heidi. What he did... I can’t just forget all of that."

Heidi raised an eyebrow, setting her phone down. "Look, I'm not saying you should forget it. But forgiveness isn’t about erasing the past, it’s about letting go of it. You see the way he’s trying. People don’t do that unless they really care."

She stared into her mug, her mind flicking through the past week. The coffee left on her desk each morning, the small fixes around the barn that Max did without a word, the way he smiled when he thought she wasn’t looking. She couldn’t deny it—he was making an effort, a real one.

But was it enough?

That night, she headed over to her mother's, her conversation with Heidi replaying in her mind. It was getting late, and the evening sun had dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow across the yard as she pulled into her driveway. As she got out of her truck, something unusual caught her eye.

The ramp leading up to her mother’s front porch—usually creaky and worn—looked... different. Fixed. The wood was fresh, the railing sturdy. She frowned, puzzled. She had been meaning to repair it herself but hadn't found the time yet.

Curious, she headed inside, finding her mother sitting comfortably at the kitchen table reading a cookbook.

"Hey, Mum," she said, dropping her keys on the counter. "I noticed the ramp out front. Did you hire someone to fix it?"

Her mother looked up from her book with a soft smile, shaking her head. "Oh no, honey, I didn’t hire anyone."

She blinked, confused. "Then how did it get fixed?"

Her mother’s smile widened, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Max stopped by earlier this week. He saw the ramp and said it wasn’t in any state for ‘a woman like me’ to be using, so he fixed it. Didn’t ask for anything, just said it was his pleasure."

Her chest tightened, warmth flooding her in a way she hadn’t expected. She stared at her mother, trying to process the thought of Max—without any prodding, without any expectation of acknowledgment—quietly fixing the ramp.

"He did that?" she asked softly, more to herself than to her mother.

"Sure did," her mom replied. "And you should’ve seen the look on his face when I thanked him. Almost like he didn’t expect anyone to notice."

She bit her lip, fighting the tug at her heart. He was making an effort, far beyond what she had expected. And it wasn’t just for show—it was genuine, thoughtful, and quietly persistent. She couldn’t ignore that anymore, no matter how hard she tried to keep her walls up.

Later that night, as she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, she couldn’t shake the image of Max fixing her mother’s ramp. He hadn’t told her. He hadn’t even tried to get credit for it. He was just... there. Trying. For her.

And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to admit that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to care again.

The following morning, she went about her usual routine, but with one small difference. As she packed her lunch, she threw in an extra sandwich, a bag of chips, and some fruit. Her hands moved on autopilot, but her mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past few days. She still wasn’t sure what to make of everything, but a small part of her—one she hadn’t listened to in years—was softening.

Arriving at the barn, she found Max already working. His back was turned to her as he fixed one of the fences, the morning sun casting long shadows across the yard. His worn-out flannel shirt clung to his frame, muscles flexing with every hammer strike. She lingered for a second longer than she intended, watching him in quiet thought.

“Morning,” she called out, snapping herself out of it.

Max turned, wiping the sweat from his brow, and smiled at her. “Morning.”

She didn’t return the smile, but something in her expression was a little lighter today. She walked past him to start her own tasks, her heart beating a bit faster than usual.

As lunchtime approached, she gathered the packed lunches from her bag and headed to where Max was working. He was kneeling by a row of tools, setting them down with precision. He hadn’t noticed her approach yet.

She stood there for a moment, unsure of how to go about it. This wasn’t a peace offering—at least, she wasn’t ready to call it that—but it was... something.

“Hey,” she called out again, a little softer this time.

Max stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he turned toward her. “What’s up?”

“I packed extra,” she said, holding up the food, her voice steady but neutral. “Figured you might want to eat with me.”

Max’s surprise was unmistakable. His eyes flickered from the lunch she held to her face, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. “You—uh—yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

She led them over to a shaded area near the barn, where they sat side by side on a patch of grass. The air was filled with the scent of hay and the sound of distant horses. She handed him the sandwich without saying anything more, and they ate in silence.

The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was loaded with unspoken thoughts. Max didn’t dare speak, afraid that saying the wrong thing might ruin this fragile truce between them. So he savoured the moment instead—the fact that she’d thought of him at all, that she’d packed lunch for him. It wasn’t much, but to him, it was everything.

Every now and then, she would glance at him from the corner of her eye, noticing how he ate slowly, as if he was trying to make the moment last. He didn’t try to force conversation, didn’t push her for more than she was willing to give. And oddly enough, she appreciated that.

When they finished, Max balled up the wrapper from his sandwich and looked at her with a small, grateful smile. “Thanks. For this. It means a lot.”

She didn’t say anything at first, just nodded as she folded her legs under herself. But inside, she could feel the cracks widening, her walls slowly crumbling under the weight of his quiet persistence.

“Don’t read into it,” she finally said, though her tone lacked its usual sharpness.

Max chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’m just happy you thought of me.”

And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t snap back or pull away. Instead, she sat there in silence, the remnants of lunch between them, and let herself enjoy the stillness.

As she watched him from the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

That night, she found herself back at the rodeo grounds. The arena was empty, illuminated by the soft glow of the arena lights overhead. The cool night air swept through the open space, carrying with it the familiar scent of dust and hay. She had her horse, Luna, with her, and despite the late hour, she wanted to try a new technique with the barrels. Something had been nagging at her all day—a feeling that she needed to push herself harder, to regain what she felt she'd lost over the years.

After saddling Luna and setting up the barrels, she took a deep breath. Her heart raced, but she was determined. She mounted Luna and gave a gentle nudge with her heels, signalling the start. They took off at a steady gallop, rounding the barrels, leaning in and guiding Luna with precision. But something went wrong as they approached the last turn.

Luna slipped on the soft dirt, throwing off their balance. She felt herself lurch forward, unable to regain control. Before she knew it, her body hit the ground with a hard thud, her leg twisting beneath her.

A sharp pain shot through her shin, and the air was knocked from her lungs. She lay there for a moment, disoriented, trying to gather her breath. But as the pain intensified, a sinking realisation hit her—something was wrong.

She clenched her teeth, willing herself to move. Her hands dug into the dirt as she tried to stand, but the pain in her leg made her gasp. She collapsed back onto the ground, her chest heaving as the tears welled in her eyes. She knew she couldn’t walk on it, and the frustration burned deep inside her.

“Damn it,” she hissed under her breath, the reality of her situation settling in. Her eyes darted to the bench by the fence, where her phone lay. If she could just reach it, she could call for help.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself up into a sitting position. The pain in her leg was unbearable, but she forced herself to move, dragging her body toward the bench. Every inch felt like a mile, and by the time she reached it, her hands were trembling from the effort and pain.

She grabbed her phone, swiping it open with shaking fingers. For a moment, she hesitated. There was only one person who came to mind in her state, but calling him would mean admitting she needed him. Swallowing her pride, she scrolled through her contacts and hit Max’s number.

The phone rang twice before she heard his voice, laced with sleep and confusion. “Darlin’? What’s going on?”

Her voice cracked as she spoke, trying to keep it steady. “Max... I need your help.”

There was silence on the other end for a split second, and then, his tone shifted, becoming sharper, more alert. “Where are you? What happened?”

“I’m at the rodeo grounds,” she said, her breath shallow. “I fell... I think I fractured my shin. I can’t— I can’t stand.”

“I’m on my way,” Max said, no hesitation in his voice. “Stay where you are. I’ll be there in five.”

The call ended, and she rested her head back against the bench, her tears finally spilling over. She hated feeling this vulnerable, this helpless. But in that moment, all she could do was wait and hope Max could get to her before the pain became too much.

Max rolled out of bed the moment her call ended, barely taking a second to throw on a shirt. His mind raced as he grabbed the first aid kit he always kept in his truck, along with two pillows he stuffed under his arm. He cursed under his breath, already imagining the worst, knowing that she wouldn’t have called him unless she had no other choice.

He drove through the quiet streets toward the rodeo grounds way above the speed limit, his heart pounding in time with the thrum of his engine. The sky was still dark, the early morning stars fading into the approaching dawn. When he finally arrived at the arena, his headlights washed over her, slumped against the bench, her face pale and streaked with dirt and pain.

He was out of the truck and by her side in seconds.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he said, his voice soft but urgent as he knelt beside her. His hair was a mess, and she could tell he’d come straight from bed. She could even make out the faint marks on his face from where his pillow had pressed into his skin. Despite everything, she felt a strange warmth in her chest at the sight of him so unguarded, so rushed.

“You really didn’t have to come this fast,” she muttered, trying to keep her voice light through the pain, but Max was already assessing her leg.

“You said you couldn’t stand,” he said, his tone firm as he gently touched the area around her shin, making her wince. “Yeah, you weren’t kidding. Looks pretty swollen. You did a number on it.”

Without wasting another moment, he positioned the pillows beneath her leg, carefully lifting her injured shin with as much tenderness as he could muster. “We need to keep this elevated.”

She leaned back, biting her lip against the surge of pain as he made her comfortable. “I’m fine, Max. Just... get me to the hospital, okay?”

“Yeah, we’re going,” he nodded. “Okay, let’s get you into the truck.”

He slipped his arms under her without warning, lifting her off the ground with an ease that made her breath catch. For a moment, she wanted to protest, tell him she could manage, but the truth was, she couldn’t. And something about the way he carried her, like she was fragile and precious, made her fall silent.

Max gently settled her into the passenger seat, making sure her leg was resting on the pillows he had brought. Once she was situated, he leaned in for a second, his eyes locking on hers.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, her voice a little softer than before. “Thanks.”

He gave her a quick nod before stepping away, his boots crunching in the dirt as he turned back toward Luna, who had been waiting anxiously nearby. She watched as Max took the reins, speaking softly to the horse to calm her down. He led Luna toward the stable, his movements steady and practised, like he’d done it a thousand times.

After securing Luna safely in a stall, Max pulled out his phone and dialled Daniel, explaining the situation. “Hey, man, can you come get her horse from the Rodeo Grounds off Milton? Yeah, she’s here, she had a fall and I’m taking her to the hospital now.”

Daniel must’ve agreed because Max gave a quick thanks and hung up, heading back to the truck. He climbed into the driver’s seat, glancing over at her as he started the engine.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice a little softer now.

She nodded, her head leaning back against the seat, her face tense with pain but somehow calmer now that he was with her. She shifted slightly, her hand resting over her shin. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Max didn’t waste any more time. He pulled out of the rodeo grounds, the truck rumbling down the road toward the hospital. Every now and then, he’d glance over at her, making sure she was okay, but she kept her eyes forward, trying to focus on anything other than the throbbing in her leg.

When they pulled up to the hospital, Max jumped out of the truck and went straight for help. Within minutes, a nurse brought a wheelchair over, and she was gently transferred from the truck into the chair. She gritted her teeth as pain radiated through her shin with every small movement, but Max was there, his hand on her shoulder, steady and reassuring.

Once they got her inside and into a room, the doctors took over, examining her leg and running x-rays. Max never left her side. Even when the doctors moved her to a bed and propped her leg up with more pillows, he sat in a chair nearby, his eyes fixed on her like he was afraid she might disappear if he looked away for even a second.

The cast came next, wrapping her shin from ankle to knee, and while the doctors spoke to her about recovery time and physical therapy, she could only focus on Max sitting quietly by the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together, but his body still tense with worry.

Once the doctors left the room, silence settled between them. It was just the two of them now, and she was suddenly very aware of the soft hum of the hospital, the sound of her own breathing, and the way Max’s presence seemed to fill every inch of the small room.

She shifted slightly on the bed, wincing at the tug of pain. Max noticed and immediately stood, closing the distance between them. Without a word, he leaned down, gently brushing the hair from her face, and then he pressed his lips softly against her forehead.

The simple, tender gesture sent a warmth through her that had nothing to do with the hospital blankets. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart began to race. She could feel the weight of years between them, the unresolved emotions swirling in the air, and then, as if he could sense it too, Max spoke.

“I ain’t leaving this time,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, full of quiet resolve. His thumb traced gently along her temple, his touch soft but firm, grounding her in the moment.

She blinked up at him, her chest tightening as the words sank in. There was a vulnerability in his voice, something she hadn’t heard before, and it disarmed her.

"You said that when we were kids," she whispered back, her voice laced with a mix of old hurt and hesitation.

“I know,” he said, straightening up but never taking his eyes off her. “But this time, I mean it.”

For the first time in years, she saw something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since they were teenagers—pure, unguarded sincerity. And for a moment, it scared her. She had built so many walls to protect herself from this exact moment, from feeling anything for him again. But here he was, and somehow, without even trying, he was breaking through those walls.

She swallowed hard, looking away as she fought the urge to let her guard down completely. “You can’t just say things like that and expect me to believe you.”

“I know,” Max said quietly, his voice steady but soft. “But I’ll prove it to you, darlin’. I promise.” He took a step back, giving her space. "I’ll be here. Every day. For as long as it takes."

She felt something stir deep in her chest, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel for so long. But she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it yet. So instead, she looked away, blinking back the sudden sting in her eyes, and said nothing.

Max didn’t push. He just pulled the chair back up beside her bed and sat down again, settling in like he was prepared to stay as long as she needed him to.

And in that moment, she realised that maybe—just maybe—this time, he really meant it.

The following morning she stirred slowly, the soft beeping of machines and the faint smell of antiseptic greeting her as she opened her eyes. For a moment, she was disoriented, the hospital room unfamiliar, the bright light overhead too harsh. But as she shifted slightly, the discomfort in her leg reminded her where she was.

And then she saw him.

Max was slumped in the chair beside her bed, his head tilted back, mouth slightly open, and the light from the window fell across his face. He looked worn out, the stubble on his jaw accentuating the dark circles under his eyes. It was clear he had fallen asleep waiting for her to wake up, and her heart swelled at the sight. He looked so peaceful, but she couldn’t help but wonder how uncomfortable that chair must be after a long night.

Just as she was about to call out to him, the door creaked open, and her mother walked in, followed closely by Heidi. They both froze for a second, taking in the scene: her awake in bed and Max asleep in the chair, clearly the protector she needed.

“Oh, honey!” her mother exclaimed, rushing to her side. “You’re awake!” She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, concern etched on her features. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” she replied, her voice hoarse but light. She glanced at Max again, a soft smile breaking across her face. “Is he okay?”

Heidi exchanged a knowing look with her mother, both of them trying to suppress their amusement. “Looks like he’s been here all night,” Heidi said quietly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “I think he’s more tired than you are.”

Her heart fluttered at that, a mixture of gratitude and guilt washing over her. She hadn’t wanted him to feel like he had to stay, but the sight of him right there, ready to care for her, warmed her in a way she hadn’t expected.

As if on cue, Max stirred, blinking awake and immediately focusing on her. His eyes brightened, and he pushed himself upright, shaking off the remnants of sleep. “Hey,” he murmured, voice gravelly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I ran a marathon,” she replied, attempting to joke. “But it’s nice to see you.”

He smiled, a small, genuine smile that made her heart skip a beat. Just then, her mother cleared her throat, and the atmosphere shifted slightly.

“Sweetpea, we’ll let you have some time with Max,” her mother said, glancing knowingly at the two of them. “He clearly has something to say.” She motioned for Heidi to follow her out.

“Mum, wait—” she started, but her mother was already closing the door behind her, leaving her alone with Max.

The moment stretched, the air thick with unspoken words. She was both grateful for the space and hesitant about what to say.

Max leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression earnest. “Darlin’, about last night—”

Before he could finish, the door swung open again, this time revealing her mother and Heidi, who walked back in.

“Sorry to interrupt!” her mother chirped, but the way her eyes sparkled indicated they weren’t sorry at all. “We just wanted to let you know that we’re going to grab some coffee and food. We’ll be back shortly.”

As they turned to leave, Heidi shot her a quick wink, whispering loud enough for Max to hear, “Looks like someone’s going to stay this time.”

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, and Max’s gaze flickered between the two women before he smirked, clearly amused by their implication. “Yeah, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, the confidence in his voice sending warmth spreading through her.

As her mother and Heidi exited the room, Max settled back into the chair, the teasing atmosphere dissipating into something deeper. “I meant what I said last night,” he added, his tone serious. “I’m not leaving this time, darlin’. You can count on me.”

She swallowed, her heart racing at the promise in his words. She wanted to believe him, to trust him again, but she knew it would take time. Still, there was a flicker of hope, a spark that hadn’t been there before.

“Okay,” she said softly, meeting his gaze. “I hope you mean that.”

He nodded, a small smile breaking across his face, and in that moment, the air between them was charged with the possibility of healing, of building something new together.

She watched as Max's eyes darkened with a mix of emotions—relief, longing, and something else she couldn’t quite place. She felt the air between them thicken, charged with the weight of everything they had been through, all the words unsaid, and the feelings that had lingered for far too long.

Before she could think, she reached out, gripping the edge of the hospital bed. “Max—”

He leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto hers, as if he could see right into her soul. “Sweetheart, I know things are complicated, and I know I hurt you—”

“I just—”

But the moment hung between them, fragile yet electric. She could feel the pull, a magnetic force drawing them closer, igniting a fire she thought had dimmed years ago.

And then it happened. Max surged forward, capturing her lips with his in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. It was a kiss filled with the weight of their history, the longing that had been buried beneath years of pain, and the passion that had never truly faded. She melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with an intensity she hadn’t realised she was capable of.

The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in a moment that felt both like a homecoming and a revelation. She could feel his warmth enveloping her, wrapping her in safety and comfort. The soft beeping of the machines and the sterile scent of the hospital evaporated, replaced by the sweetness of his breath mingling with hers.

As they pulled apart, breathless, Her heart raced. She could see the depth of his feelings reflected in his eyes, but the weight of everything that had happened loomed over them like a dark cloud.

“Max…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he interrupted, his voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped loving you. I know you can’t just forget everything that happened, but I’m here to stay. I’m here to be yours, and I’m—”

But she didn’t let him finish. Instead, she pulled him forward, capturing his lips again, desperate to erase the doubt and fear that threatened to invade this fragile moment. The kiss deepened, their lips moving in a passionate dance, a combination of urgency and need. It felt like they were reclaiming something that had always belonged to them, something that had been buried but never forgotten.

Their breaths mingled, and she felt herself surrendering completely. She could feel the warmth of his body radiating against her, and it ignited something deep within her, a fire that had been dormant for far too long. She pulled him closer, as if she could merge their bodies, their souls, into one.

Finally, they broke apart, both gasping for air, foreheads resting against each other, hearts racing in unison. She looked into his eyes, searching for certainty, and saw the sincerity etched in every line of his face.

“Okay,” she murmured, a smile breaking through the tension. “You can stay.”

Max grinned, his relief palpable. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she said, her heart fluttering with hope. “But you better be prepared to work for it.”

He laughed softly, a sound that made her heart soar. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

the end.

[moralesmilesanhour]

mad props! 05

summary: you learn a couple new things about Miles as you fall into your new study routine. wc: 1.1k start from the beginning prev next a/n: probs won't update regularly if i'm being transparent but i gotta wrap the story up! so expect more in the coming weeks probably. and before you ask no this does not mean i'm returning to writing reader insert i am just finishing what i started bc i feel like i owe it to my audience ! much love <3

The auditorium was empty during lunchtime, which meant that no one was there to spectate as the sound of your voice echoed through the rows of unoccupied seats. You were working on one of the numbers from the second act.

“It’s not up to me��Just let me be…Legally–”

“I knew I’d find you here.”

You sighed, not needing to look up to know who it was.

“Have you come to take me away?” you asked dryly as you descended down the steps and trudged over to where Miles stood in the middle of the aisle with a smug look on his face.

“You can finish your song, if you want.”

You brushed right past him towards the double doors.

“Stop pretending to be nice.”

Essentially being a teacher’s assistant, Miles had elevator privileges that removed the hassle of climbing up five flights of stairs to reach Mr. Sanchez’s classroom, making it the most (and perhaps the only) pleasant part of the experience.

Sanchez was digging into a bowl of salad when the two of you arrived.

“Ah! Buenas tardes,” he greeted hastily through a mouthful of lettuce. “Thank you for being on time.”

You shoved past Miles and rushed over to the professor’s desk.

“I just have to make up for last week’s missing homework and a couple quizzes, right?”

“Well, yes, but there’s also–”

“Can I just do that at home, then? All due respect, but I really don’t need a partner to–”

“Hold on,” he held up a hand to stop you. “You also have some gaps in understanding when it comes to grammatical concepts such as presente and futuro, missing assignments notwithstanding. You’ll go over those with Miles first before making up last Friday’s quiz independently. Comprende?”

You visibly deflated where you stood. To tell the truth, the different tenses were never your strong suit, but you were able to get away with that with flawless vocabulary memorization and verb conjugation (in the present tense, of course). Now? Not so much.

“Comprende,” you groaned before turning away to grab a seat.

Miles had already taken a chair and pulled it up to one of the desks in the front, and was sitting on it backwards with his notebook in front of him.

“Ready, partner?” he said with a wide, mocking grin. He knew you couldn’t tell him to shut up in front of Sanchez.

You rolled your eyes and sat down with a slump.

“Let’s get it over with.”

He opened his notebook and flipped through a few messy pages before landing on a blank sheet. Sloppily ripping it free from its binding, he took out a Sharpie (which he uncapped with his teeth) and began to draw a line down the middle. 

“What are you doing?”

He began writing a series of words down either side of the line.

“Helping you.”

Miles slid the piece of paper towards you.

It was a verb conjugation chart, labeled ‘Past Tense’ in his strange handwriting that made no distinction between upper and lower-case letters.

“I’m gonna give you a sentence, and you repeat it back to me in the past tense. Then we’re gonna do the same thing in futuro.”

You sulked, “How come you don’t have to memorize anything? You said you don’t even study.”

He gave you a blank, ‘are-you-stupid’ look.

“I speak Spanish.”

“No duh, I mean in every other class. You know the whole periodic table front-to-back.”

“Huh? Oh, photographic memory. I only need to read something once,” he tapped his forehead, “then it’s locked in.”

Stunned, you could do nothing but lean back in your chair and slowly shake your head.

“Absolutely ridiculous.”

The rest of that week had you repeating the same song and dance of trudging into Sanchez’s classroom and running drills with Miles and his impromptu conjugation charts. For every wrong answer, Miles made an incredibly irritating sound that was meant to imitate a game show buzzer, which forced you to pay more attention to minimize how often you had to hear it.

You hated to admit it, but at some point you began to retain the tenses with more ease than before and noticed a steady increase in your quiz grades as a result. 

Thursday after school saw you arrive at an empty auditorium, thirty minutes before rehearsal. Any normal student would spend this extra time studying or doing homework, but you had seen enough flashcards and charts to last you a lifetime. Instead, you pulled out your highlighted copy of the sheet music for ‘Chip on My Shoulder’ and began rehearsing as a one-man ensemble.

Your singing today felt more difficult than usual; the lyrics suddenly felt heavy on your tongue, the notes coming out strained and forced. In the middle of a line, the double doors swung open just as your voice cracked.

“Damn, were you lip-syncing this whole time? You sound rough.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course it had to be him.

Miles sounded nearly out-of-breath as he strolled past you, his uniform rumpled shirt and un-tucked, as if he’d just put it on. The band-aid on his forehead was joined by another, more colorful one on his cheek. 

“As if you could do better,” you scoffed as you watched him toss his bag onto an empty chair two seats away from where you sat.

He looked up with a mischievous grin.

“I could.”

“Oh?” You smirked and shoved the sheet music into his face. “Try it, then.”

Miles squinted at it before pushing it away.

“Pfft, this song is lightwork. I don’t need that.”

“Alright, then recite your lines. I’ll start,” you inhaled deeply and held up the lyrics. “ ‘You came out here–’”

“‘To follow a man? Harvard Law was part of that plan? Man, what rich, romantic planet are you from?’”

Startled by his near-perfect pitch, you stuttered, lowering the sheet of paper a bit to give Miles an odd look. 

He continued, “ ‘Instead of lying outside by the pool, you stalk some guy to an Ivy League School’...et cetera.”

You blinked in utter disbelief. Miles’ voice had a tone as clear as a bell, and flawless diction to match. If he had auditioned, he would’ve been a shoe-in.

“...Huh. You sing? Like, actually?”

He shrugged, “I used to lead the choir at church, but not anymore.”

Just as he finished his sentence, Sarah followed by a handful of tech kids began trickling into the auditorium.

“Oh, sweet, you guys are early!” Sarah nodded, making two check marks on her clipboard as her bag hung off of one shoulder. “Miles, d’you wanna help figure out the lighting situation for the show? Josh said you were good with color.”

“Sure, not a problem.”

“You’re amazing, dude. I don’t know how we would’ve gotten those sets done without you.”

“All in a day’s work!”

[roosterforme]

Sloppy Math Homework | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley is the first one to admit that he always has been and always will be a sucker for how smart you are. There's something so hot about you in teacher mode, and he loves it when you take charge. But he's in for a surprise when you dole out a new kind of punishment for turning in sloppy work that leaves him fully at your mercy.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, smut, teacher/18+ student roleplay, spanking, paddling, consensual roleplay punishment

Length: 2400 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist

Bradley's heart was pounding when he walked through the front door to find you still dressed in your work clothes even though you got home around lunchtime on Fridays. He had been prepared to start cooking dinner, but the sight of you in your loafers and snug tweed skirt was enough to make his cock twitch.

"Are you ready for class, Mr. Bradshaw?" you asked, hands on your hips and one eyebrow raised. 

He took a deep breath and nodded slowly before he said, "I am so ready for calculus class, Dr. Sugar." Your smirk had his brain working overtime, wondering what exactly you had in mind for him. A blowjob if he aced his exam? Sex on your desk if he could solve the equation tattooed at the top of your ribcage? A handjob that lasted as long as he could accurately recite the decimals in pi?

It didn't matter what it was, he wanted it. He was aching for it. Bradley was a mess for his wife. And when you shook your pretty head at him standing there in his uniform and said, "You're not dressed for class," he could feel his cock pressing the inside of his zipper through his underwear. 

He glanced down at his khaki shirt and pants. "What should I be wearing, Professor?" he asked in a low, deep voice that had you getting a little flustered. He could tell. He knew all of your cues, and right now you were squeezing your thighs together.

You cocked your head slightly to the side and eyed him up and down. "I just don't think that's what a college student would be wearing to his weekly math lecture, Beer Boy."

Ah, okay. So you wanted college Beer Boy right now. Bradley could absolutely deliver on that for you. "Sorry, Professor," he mumbled, looking at the floor and his boots. "You're right. I'm not dressed appropriately for your class."

You nodded and said, "Meet me in my office when you're ready to learn something new." And with that, you spun and disappeared down the hallway leaving Bradley to watch the sway of your ass in all that tight tweed fabric. 

You were sexy academia personified for him, and he loved it so much when you wanted to be in charge. But truly, Bradley felt a little bad for the twenty something year old guys who had to sit through your classes. You just looked that good. You looked good when you were at The University of Virginia as a math major, and somehow you looked even hotter now as a math professor. 

He smirked. He'd enjoyed your body at both of those points in time. And he was the only one who knew exactly where and how much you'd filled out from your twenties to your thirties. "Shit," he grunted, realizing he was wasting time thinking about your tits when he could probably be looking at them. 

Bradley tore into the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He was already hard enough that it was challenging to get his uniform pants off, but he managed to leave a pile of khaki clothing on the floor as he rummaged around for his favorite Grateful Dead shirt. It was neatly folded in the dresser with your clothing since you wore it way more frequently than he did. But he pulled it on and found the University of Chicago hat you'd given him and tossed it on backwards. You always liked to run your fingers through his curls that stuck out from beneath his hats, and Bradley was practically panting just thinking about it.

He palmed himself through his boxer shorts as he pushed your office door open a little wider, grinning where you'd written SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY across it. And then he spotted you, sitting on the edge of the desk with your legs crossed. A few more of the buttons on your blouse were open now, and you were gesturing to your desk chair. 

"Have a seat, Mr. Bradshaw." Your voice was soft and sultry, nothing like the tone you used when you gave a lecture to your students. How did he get this fucking lucky? 

"Yes, Dr. Sugar," he replied, and you smirked. He stepped closer to the soft glow coming from his navy desk lamp which lived in this room, and he slipped down into your chair. Bradley desperately wanted to run his hands up your legs and tuck them inside your skirt, but he knew he wouldn't be allowed. So instead, he took the pencil and calculator you handed to him and looked up at your pretty face.

"I want you to work on your math homework sheet," you whispered, flipping over the single sheet of paper in front of him on the desk. Then you leaned down and kissed his temple, brushing your lips along the hair sticking out from under his cap. "Get started."

Bradley groaned softly, unsure how exactly he was going to be able to do this when his cock was aching so much. Plus, you were making no secret of the fact that you were looking at his tented boxers like you wanted to climb in his lap. 

"You're really proud of yourself, aren't you?" he asked, punching some numbers into the calculator to try to solve the first problem. "You got me so hard, I can barely concentrate, and all you did was talk to me and kiss my fucking hair."

You stroked your fingers along the strands of his hair you had kissed and said, "No cursing in my classroom. And no talking at all while you're working."

Bradley grunted as he scribbled down an answer for the first problem that he was actually pretty sure was correct. Visiting your evening lectures had really started to pay off. He'd always been pretty good at math, but now he was proficient in calculus and linear algebra. The only problem was, when most people thought about school, it turned them off. But simply looking at math problems made him harder. There was probably something wrong with him. 

You hummed as he answered the second equation, but when he looked up at your face, you said, "Eyes on your paper, Mr. Bradshaw."

"Yes, Professor," he whispered, and he was rewarded with the sight of you licking your lips. He was aching for a blowjob right now. He might get one if all of his answers were correct. So as quickly as he could, Bradley finished the remaining questions and slid the paper closer to you. "How did I do?"

You sank your teeth into your lip as you looked at him. Then you took the paper in your hands and murmured, "Let's see..."

Every little twitch of your brow and the way your eyes narrowed after a moment were telling enough, but when you met his gaze over the paper, he knew he had missed one. 

"If you just give me another minute, Dr. Sugar-"

"I gave you plenty of time already, Mr. Bradshaw," you said, stroking along his scarred cheek with your nails as you set the paper aside. You wrapped your fingers down along his chin and tipped his face up to meet yours. When you leaned in and kissed his lips sweetly, he was immediately reaching for your body. But then you jerked his chin up another inch and said, "But you missed number five, and I don't accept sloppy math homework."

Bradley groaned as your nails raked down his neck, because this was doing nothing to alleviate his erection. And now he was a little nervous about that problem he missed. "Does this mean you're going to make me take care of this myself?" he whispered, gesturing to his tented boxer shorts. 

The devilish smirk on your face actually thrilled him as you said, "Not exactly." Then you stood and took both of his hands gently in yours and pulled him to his feet. Bradley groaned as his erection trailed up your body until his length was resting against your belly. You pressed one more kiss to his lips and adjusted his backward cap as he throbbed against you. Then you stepped to the side and guided him to place both of his palms on your desk. 

Bradley looked at you and asked, "What's happening here?" Then you walked behind him and pushed the chair toward the center of the room, and Bradley felt your hands reach inside the elastic of his boxer shorts and start to guide them down until they dropped down to his feet. 

"What's happening is your punishment for your sloppy homework. Keep your palms on the desk, Mr. Bradshaw." You ran your hands softly along Bradley's ass, and he didn't move an inch. His cock was painfully hard now and leaping in the air, begging to be touched. 

He turned to his left where you were kissing along his neck now as you squeezed his ass. He moaned, "Baby, I might cum. I'm not even kidding."

You gasped and slapped his ass, and Bradley's jaw dropped open. "Baby? I'm your teacher! Show me some respect."

"P-Professor Sugar," he managed as his skin stung where you hit him. Then to Bradley's surprise, you opened the top drawer of your desk, and sitting right next to your post it notes was his Beta Gamma fraternity paddle. It was made of solid oak and painted in a psychedelic tie dye pattern that he always thought looked really cool. But the last time he saw the thing, it was on top of the bedroom closet. And as you wrapped your fingers around the handle, it dawned on Bradley why it was here and why he was standing like this.

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, and the look of mischief was gone as you squeezed his bicep and kissed the edge of his mustache. "I thought it might be fun to spank you, Beer Boy. But if you say no, then I'll put it away, and we can find something else fun to do."

Bradley eyed the paddle, and his mind was flooded with memories of his fraternity days. Not all of them were good, but he'd met you at his frat house. And you were the best thing in his life. And for some reason, the idea of that tie dye paddle hitting his bare skin was actually appealing to him. This was not something he had ever thought about before, but in the hands of his wife, he wanted it.

"Yes," he replied, kissing your lips as you started to smile. "I want you to, Professor Sugar."

You nodded and whispered, "If you don't like it, just tell me." Then you squared your shoulders and said in a louder voice, "I can't go easy on you, because you'll keep pulling this stunt over and over with me."

"I understand," he replied, letting you bend him a little more at the waist as you strolled around to stand behind him. And then he yelped as the paddle made solid contact with his right ass cheek. "Oh, fuck." But no sooner had he muttered those words than the paddle hit him in the same spot again. The stinging was intense as you apparently wound up to send the paddle to the same place a third time. "Baby," he whined, because if anything, he was more turned on than before.

Your only response was to switch to his other side and bring the paddle to an untouched patch of skin. Over and over until it was burning so much that Bradley was recoiling from the sound and feel of it. But his hips were thrusting forward now, and he was practically begging for relief from your mouth or your pussy. But he kept his palms planted on the top of the desk. And the pleasure and stinging pain mingled in his mind so much that he found himself whining your name. 

A moment later, you set the paddle on the desk next to his left hand, and Bradley looked up into your lust filled eyes. "Sugar?" he gasped, and you were prying his hands from the desk and pulling him close. Your lips came crashing into his as you grabbed at his shirt. He was rutting into you now, afraid he'd cum on your tweed but unwilling to try to hold himself back. 

"Bradley, that was so fucking hot," you moaned, turning him around and pushing him down to sit on the desk. It felt delightfully cold on his raw skin, but he winced at the same time. It was almost too much to handle. But then you were yanking your skirt up to reveal you were bare underneath, and you scrambled up onto his lap. 

"Easy," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. But then your perfectly tight warmth came sinking down around his cock, and he knew he was going to last about ten seconds in this state. He shook his head and whispered, "I'm gonna cum."

You held his face gently in both hands and kissed his forehead as you told him, "You earned it." And all the while you bounced up and down on him, bottoming out and whining softly.

So Bradley took your perfect ass in both of his palms and guided you just how he wanted you, and then he filled you up with his cum. You were peppering his cheeks with kisses as he sat there with his lips parted, trying to catch his breath. 

"You just spanked me with my Beta Gamma paddle. For my sloppy math homework," he marveled out loud, still nestled inside you. "When I'm not even your student."

You let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder and said, "You're my best student." Then your fingers were teasing at his curls sticking out from under his hat. "And if you enjoyed it, we can do it again."

Bradley groaned and said, "My ass needs a couple days off after that." Then he smirked as he reached for the paddle and rubbed it gently across your bare bottom. Your eyes went wide as your head came off his shoulder. "Yours on the other hand..."

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

Oh look, a new kink unlocked for Beer Boy and Sugar. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[octuscle]

Makeover

Mortimer not only had a shitty old-fashioned name, he was also simply shitty and old-fashioned. His clothes were actually often inherited from his father and grandfather. His speech was affected. And yet he was nothing but a small and insignificant clerk at the tax office. Totally career-minded. A pedant. A pain in the ass. Like his father. Like his grandfather.

But Mortimer was also a lickspittle and a pussyfoot. He never had the guts to provoke any kind of trouble with big taxpayers. Trouble only meant more work. But with small private individuals and small businesses, he loved to torment them when checking their tax returns. Especially those who didn't have a tax advisor had beads of sweat on their foreheads just holding his letter in their hands. And when they opened it and read it, they turned pale. Mortimer could almost jerk off at the thought. In fact, his little cock got hard at the thought.

The punks from the tattoo parlor were outstanding victims. The tax return was probably largely correct. But it was full of minor formal errors and implausibilities that could have been overlooked. But that was no fun for Mortimer. So he bombarded the owner of the studio with questions and requests to submit additional documents. As I said, the tax authorities would gain no further advantage from this. But Mortimer was able to exercise his little bit of power. But this time he would regret it. Bitterly regret it.

The conversation with his superior had been unpleasant. Pete, the owner of the tattoo studio, had made an official complaint. For arbitrariness, abuse of authority and a few other things. Probably one of the perverts who were his customers was a crooked lawyer, Mortimer thought. He didn't have much to fear from his boss. One crow didn't peck out another crow's eye. Nevertheless, he had been ordered to make a personal appearance at the tattoo parlor to clear up the loose ends. What a humiliation. He would get revenge for that too.

The studio smelled of tobacco smoke, leather, sweat, whiskey and disinfectant. A terrible combination that almost made Mortimer want to vomit. He went through the documents he had in front of him. No chance, everything was correct. Still, there had to be something. And quickly. It was Friday morning, he wanted to have his report written by 2 p.m. at the latest and leave for the weekend. The employees all looked like freaks. He asked Pete for all the employment contracts from the last 20 years. Pete looked at Mortimer… With piercing blue eyes. He took Mortimer's chin very firmly in his tattooed calloused hand, almost stroking Mortimer's face with the other. And then he moved his hand slowly towards his crotch. And then he gripped Mortimer's balls firmly. "Listen, you office boy! Everything is fine here. Got it?" The grip on his balls did not loosen. But his erection became painful. Mortimer nods. The grip loosened. Mortimer packed up his things. At the office, he would report the store to a friend from the health department. Pete had made a big mistake.

It was almost 11:30 when Mortimer arrived at the tax office. Lunchtime. People were running along the corridors and streaming towards the canteen. Mortimer actually wanted to eat straight away. But the call to the health department was more important. He had almost reached his office when his boss stood in his way. "So, all the problems with the tattoo artist sorted?" Mortimer was just about to answer when his boss laughed. "Mortimer, I wouldn't have put it past you. You and a piercing? Did you get that pierced to appease the taxman? Well, because it's Friday. But Monday without it again, please."

Mortimer turned pale. Yes, there had been something on his lower lip. He felt carefully. A cone protruded from his lower lip. One was through his nasal septum. And under the cone was something else under his lower lip. In a panic, Mortimer ran to the washrooms. He looked in the mirror. He looked like a freak! He no longer even noticed that he was unshaven. Mortimer reached for his cell phone and tried to call Pete's tattoo studio. Only an answering machine. Mortimer ran into his office and put on a face mask. He told colleagues who came by that he wasn't feeling well and wanted to protect them. They wished him a speedy recovery. But it didn't get any better. Mortimer nervously drummed his fingers on his desk and wondered what he should do. Then he noticed the tattoos on his knuckles. "Fuck" and "Yeah". In Gothic letters. Mortimer ran back to the washrooms. And threw up.

He didn't actually have to call in sick. He would have finished work in an hour anyway. But he had to get out of here. Immediately. He walked to the bus stop. It was a warm spring day. Nevertheless, Mortimer drove to Oxford Street first thing and bought a pair of gloves in the first store he saw. Should he go to the tattooist? But not now. The streets were full of people. And he looked like a freak. No, off home. And tomorrow at the crack of dawn to see that asshole Pete.

Something was different in his apartment. There was a half-full ashtray on the coffee table. And the fridge was full of beer. Surprisingly, this didn't strike Mortimer as odd at all. He took a beer, lit a cigarette and threw himself onto the sofa. What a terrible day. He began to cry with self-pity. And he fell asleep crying.

It was already dark outside when Mortimer woke up. The beer was warm and stale. But Mortimer finished it. The fag had fallen out of his hand as he fell asleep and had left another burn mark on the shabby old leather sofa. Mortimer burped. He was drunk and stoned. The piercings in his nipples felt good. Mortimer began to wank. He squirted on his Sex Pistol T-shirt. And fell asleep again.

The next morning, Mortimer woke up with an insane hangover. His apartment was a mess. Full ashtrays, empty beer cans, dirty clothes. What the hell had happened here? Mortimer collected the garbage while still half asleep and put the bin bags outside in the hallway. He had to pee. No, he had to piss. He went into the bathroom. He looked in the mirror. He ran his tattooed hands through his greasy hair. He urgently needed to go to the hairdresser again. But first he had to piss and then take a shower. He pulled his 20-centimeter cock out of his no longer completely clean underpants. The scrotal ladder clacked as he did so. And the mighty Prince Albert shone in the light of the bathroom lamp. Mortimer felt dizzy.

Yes, the first thing he wanted to do was go and see Pete. But for some reason, his apartment was a mess. Mortimer took a shower first. He had to admit that the feeling of the piercings in his nipples, scrotum and cock was very sensual. But the steel had to come off. And he also had to do something about the tattoos. His fingers and the backs of his hands were covered in tattoos. He hadn't even seen his back and neck yet. When he felt clean again, Mortimer collected the dirty laundry. He made the beds fresh. He wanted to turn on the washing machine. But it was gone. Not just the washing machine, but the whole alcove. His bathroom was somehow smaller. And there was no washing machine or dryer. Mortimer stuffed the washing into an IKEA bag that he didn't know where it had come from. He collected the rest of the garbage. He washed the dirty dishes, because his dishwasher in his much smaller kitchen was also gone. It was almost 4 p.m. when it was finally clean and tidy again. Mortimer was satisfied. All he had been able to find in the way of clean laundry was a shiny red Adidas tracksuit, a pair of white Calvin Klein shorts, a white fine-rib undergarment, white socks and white sneakers. He looked silly. But it should be enough for a visit to the laundrette. He took the dirty laundry and the garbage bags and left the apartment.

The hallway smelled of cold tobacco smoke, beer and piss. The walls were covered in graffiti. From time to time, the roar of violent arguments could be heard from the apartments. Shit, this is a crazy dream, Mortimer thought to himself. This must be a crazy dream. The elevator was broken. So he walked the eight floors to the laundry room. Thank God there was a free machine. Mortimer took a laundry token out of his trouser pocket. He stuffed his dirty laundry into the machine. Damn it, he didn't have any detergent. A skinhead was sitting on one of the rickety plastic chairs under the no-smoking sign, reading a sports magazine and smoking. "Excuse me, could I borrow some washing powder from you?" Mortimer wanted to ask. But he said "Oi, sorry mate, could I nick some washing powder off ya? And a fag while you're at it?" The skinhead looked at Mortimer. He licked his lips. "Got yer tongue pierced too, you dirty pig?" Mortimer stuck out his tongue. And the skinhead took his cock out of his bleached jeans. "Then get on your knees and earn both!"

The skinhead only had a modest PA. Nevertheless, it was a pleasure for Mortimer to work his cheesy boner with his tongue. The skinhead steered his head into his curls with a firm grip. From time to time he pulled Mortimer's head far back into his neck and snotted in his face. Mortimer's cock built a tent in his pants. The skinhead squirted down his throat. Mortimer squirted into his pants. And the washing machine rumbled. ""Oi, cunt, fancy a proper haircut? Can't see any of them sick tattoos on your skull." Mortimer took a quick breath. What was happening here? He was standing in a full-weight tracksuit in the laundry room of a public housing complex, had just swallowed a skinhead's sperm and now wanted to get a haircut from the skinhead? Shit, how had he ended up in this situation? "I'm in 639, got beer and fags. Bring the rest, mate!"

The laundry didn't get really clean in the old washing machines. Mortimer threw everything onto his unmade bed. His apartment was a mess. But it was his home. And he was about to get a free haircut. Mortimer was rolling a cigarette when Liam knocked. He had brought the rest with him. The rest was a long hair clipper, a wet razor, shaving foam. And three buddies who couldn't wait to piss on the freshly shaved bald head.

Monday morning. Pete had asked Mo to take the missing documents to the tax office. Mo had actually worked at the tax office in the past. He knew his way around there. But he had been fired because Pete had allegedly bribed him to be gracious during the tax audit. In return, he had gotten some piercings and tattoos for free. But that was a hell of a long time ago. Now Mo was one of the most talented piercers in town. In the hottest studio in town. Actually, Mo could have afforded something better than the shabby place in the run-down high-rise complex a long time ago. But leaving his mates in the lurch? Not for the life of him!

Hot tf pic by @ki-kink

[shellbilee]

Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 9

A Glen Powell RPF Series

Warning: Smutttt, cursing

Glen

Glen looks down at his watch as he walks out of the gym, tilting his wrist to shield it from the glare of the Friday afternoon sun. 3.30pm. 

He pulls out his phone to text Billie knowing she finishes early on Fridays, opening his texts and looking down at their last message. She’d replied to the message he'd sent at lunchtime asking how her day was going.

He smiles as he looks down at her words, picturing her face as he reads. He's been unable to stop thinking about her since he'd left her place yesterday, certain he was becoming totally infatuated by everything that was Billie.

He goes to type a text message but then quickly deletes it, deciding to facetime her instead. He jumps into his car as his phone starts to ring out, glancing at his sweaty, post-gym reflection in the review mirror just as Billie's face appears smiling on the screen.

“Hey handsome”

Glen can't help the way he grins back at her then. She’s so fucking beautiful, her long hair pulled back into a high pony tail that's snaking down her shoulder, a pair of trendy, clear framed glasses perched on her nose. Almost instantly he feels his insides stirring in that most delectable way - he didn’t know he had a thing for girls with glasses until just now. 

Fuck.

“Hey darlin’. What you doing?”

“Just finishing up some paperwork and then I’m out of here. You?”

“Just finished the gym and thinking about you”

Billie grins teasingly, her eyes bright behind her glasses.

“Oh yeah? Thinking about me and anything specific?”

Glen grins back, taking the bait.

“Well originally I was just thinkin’ about how I wanted to see you again. But seeing you in glasses, now I’m thinkin’ about a whole lot of other things”

Billie laughs gorgeously, her smile taking up her whole face in that way that Glen finds insanely attractive.

“You’re bad Glen”

He winks mischievously. “I’m just gettin’ started Billie”.

They both laugh, grinning back at one another through the screen.

“Anyway” he says, taking his hat off and reaching up to run his hands through his gym-sweaty hair, “The actual reason I called was to see what you were doing tonight?”

“Oh yeah? Any chance you want some company with your Netflix? What do the kids say, Netflix and chill?”

Billie tilts her head and leans back in her chair.

“Can’t say I really had any plans tonight, was just going to head home and take Nugget for a walk and then have a quiet night in with Netflix”

Billie laughs again, this time louder.

“I'm not sure you’re up with the kid's lingo these days old man, Netflix and chill doesn’t mean what you think it means”

Billie shakes her head and chuckles. 

Glen laughs, shooting her a mildly offended face.

“First of all, I’m not old. Second of all, I’m well aware of what Netflix and chill means. And I mean it in that sense and the literal sense” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Well then, since you’re offering both, yes, I’d love some company” she replies, winking back gorgeously and making Glen feel all kinds of things, “I’m leaving here in five, so feel free to meet me at home? Usually it takes me about twenty minutes or so to get home”.

Glen nods. “I’ll head home, have a shower n’ grab Brisket, then we’ll come over?”

“Oh yeah? I’m very okay with that too, but only if you’re joinin’ me”

Billie tilts her head as if she's thinking for a moment, her lips stretching into a sly smile.

“You know, I am very ok with you showering at mine if you’d like” she adds flirtatiously, Glen raising an eyebrow as he looks back at the screen.

Billie bites her lip teasingly and grins. “I think that can be arranged”

Glen flashes her his best grin.

“See you soon, peach”.

---

Glen hears Nugget barking before he’s even at the door, Brisket instantly bouncing excitedly at the sound of his friend. Glen lifts his hand to knock but is beaten by the sound of Billie’s voice from somewhere telling him the door is open, wrangling Brisket on the lead as he walks them both inside.

Nugget is all over Brisket the moment they step inside, Glen unable to help his smile at the two boys sniffing furiously and wagging their tails happily. He bends to unclip Brisket and watches when they immediately sprint off into the house, pausing to look at his reflection in the hallway mirror and quickly readjusting his hat.

He lets out a breath and makes his way down the hallway, stepping into the living room to find Billie standing with her hands on her hips in front of a huge, half opened box. It takes him a second to realise that it’s her new couch that’s been delivered, too distracted by how damn gorgeous she looks standing there in her work uniform. His eyes run over her fitted black polo shirt and tight black bike shorts that show off her perfect ass, and for a moment he can’t help but wonder how any of her clients possibly focus when she’s treating them.

“Hey you” Billie says turning to face him, her smile growing bigger when Glen steps towards her and wraps his arm around her waist.

“Hey gorgeous” he replies with his own grin, pulling her into him and kissing her deeply. 

She’s still wearing her glasses from before, her beautiful hazel eyes looking even more so behind the lenses. 

“How was your day?”

Glen nods, looking over at the box that’s taking up the majority of the living room. “I'm surprised it got delivered so quickly”

Billie shrugs, smiling adorably. “Really busy actually! But definitely better when I came home to the Ikea truck pulling into my driveway”.

“Me too” Billie replies, looking back up at Glen from behind her glasses, “And I guess it's good timing that you came over tonight”.

“To help you set it up?”

Glen can’t help his laugh, grabbing her waist again and this time dipping her before he kisses her.

Billie looks up and around as if she’s thinking for a second, shrugging her shoulders innocently when she looks back at Glen.

“Well that, and also, because I'll need to christen the couch, obviously”

“And you say I’m bad”

Billie grins wickedly, reaching up to cup his jaw. “What can I say, you're rubbing off on me”

“Oh yeah? Anything else of yours need rubbing?”

Billie immediately snorts and throws her head back in laughter, Glen instantly deciding that her laugh is his new favourite sound and he’d listen to it all day if he could.

“Wow Glen, that was terrible”

“But it made you laugh though” he replies matter-of-factly and flashing his best smile, bending to kiss Billie again. Her mouth tastes like mint chewing gum and he just can’t get enough.

“You know, if you keep distracting me like this, we’ll never get this couch put together” Billie comments when they part, resting her hands on his chest and looking up at him.

Glen shoots her a mildly offended look. 

“Me distracting you? Darlin’, I don’t know if you’ve looked in the mirror today but I am most definitely not the one being distracting. Look at you” he remarks, stepping back for a moment and gesturing to her in front of him.

“Yes, your work uniform. Your fuckin’ ass Billie, my God it’s just perfect. It’s round and peachy and just--- fuck” he explains, his voice almost pained, stepping back towards her and snaking his hands down until he’s cupping her ass, squeezing her cheeks for emphasis, “It’s perfect. Seriously, how do your clients not just stare at you all day?”

Billie shakes her head in confused amusement, looking down at her outfit and back up at Glen again.

“In my work uniform?”

Billie rolls her eyes and laughs, “I work with high school and college athletes, Glen”

“I’m pretty sure they’re all aware that I’m at least ten years older than most of them”

Glen nods his head enthusiastically in response.

“Exactly my point. God, I’d be fakin’ all kinds of injuries if it meant I got to look at this” he adds, squeezing her cheeks again and making Billie giggle.

Glen shakes his head definitively. “And you think that matters?”.

Billie pulls a face and Glen can’t help but laugh. 

“Trust me darlin’, I was once a college aged boy. A perfect ass is a perfect ass”.

Billie chuckles.

“So am I correct in assuming by those words that you’re an ass man then?”

This time it’s Glen’s turn to chuckle.. 

Glen’s grin grows wider.

“You would be, yes. There’s just nothing fuckin’ better” he says gripping her ass and suddenly lifting her from the floor, Glen loving the way her legs reflexively wrap around his waist.

She folds her arms around his neck but doesn’t say anything, looking down at him expectantly like she’s waiting for him to continue.

“Like, having a handful of this in each hand?” he explains, squeezing her ass again and feeling his deep muscles contract deliciously at the feeling of holding her, “Or you know, seeing it bent over and bouncin’? Just mmm---”

His words trail off into a near-pained groan that rumbles in his throat, Glen instantly aware of his suddenly hardening erection that’s pressing into Billie’s groin. 

Billie looks down at him with bright eyes, clearly amused by his words, and he can tell from her expression that she can more than feel his growing excitement.

“Well, how about instead of just talking about my ass” Billie whispers, cupping Glen’s jaw and bending to kiss him in a way that teases more, “You put me down and help me put this couch together, then maybe I’ll let you bend me over it” 

Her words have an instant response in Glen and he immediately drops her to her feet, Billie laughing at his reaction as he bends and kisses her quickly. She grins up at him, Glen doing his best to ignore his now very restrictive shorts, reaching up to readjust his hat and looking down at her in front of him. 

He smiles wickedly.  “Give me those fuckin’ instructions”

---

Billie

“Screw bracket three into hole two on the base using a ‘C’ screw” Billie reads from the instruction pamphlet, looking up as Glen tightens the screw into the base of the couch. 

Her eyes run over his bulging biceps as he holds the electric drill, and for a second Billie has to remind herself how to breathe. 

He’s wearing a tight black Texas Longhorn’s t-shirt that hugs his muscles perfectly, a black sports cap sitting backwards on his gorgeous head. He looks casual and all-American and sexy as hell, and Billie finds herself seriously struggling to pay attention to her task at hand. Watching him screw the couch together has her thinking all kinds of things, most notably, how badly she wants him to screw her.

“Billie, darlin?” Glen asks suddenly, waving his big hand in front of her face and instantly shaking her from her thoughts, “I said can you pass me another of those big C screws?”

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry” she replies, immediately flustered, leaning back on her knees and grabbing the plastic bag of screws marked ‘C’ from the floor behind her.

“Daydreaming?” he asks when she passes him a screw, looking at her curiously with one raised eyebrow.

She shakes her head and smiles. 

“Just got caught up in my thoughts for a moment” she explains, smiling innocently as she readjusts her glasses and looks back down at the instructions in her hand.

Her cheeks heat when she feels Glen’s gaze on her for a moment longer, knowing she’s been caught and that Glen definitely knows what was on her mind just a moment ago. 

She hears him chuckle before the sound of the electric drill starts again, Billie pressing her lips together and glancing out of the living room window to see Nugget and Brisket chasing each other around the backyard.

Billie turns back when she hears her phone buzzing on the floor, picking it up to find a message in her girl’s group chat. It’s Sloane, asking what she's planning on wearing tomorrow to Chelsea’s bachelorette party, along with several pictures of her own outfit options. The party was going to be an all day event - complete with a full body spa experience, a pole dancing class, cocktails at a rooftop lounge and dancing at some Beverly Hills club to finish off the night. 

“The girls?” Glen asks when Billie’s typing back, Billie looking up to find him gazing at her expectantly.

Billie nods. “It’s Sloane. Asking what I’m wearing tomorrow”.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“A bachelorette party. A very full on bachelorette party to be exact”.

Glen doesn’t say anything, but his expression wills her to explain.

Billie ticks off the itinerary for the party tomorrow, chuckling when Glen’s eyebrows raise at the mention of pole dancing.

“Wow. I don't think I've heard of a bachelorette like that before. Where do you know Chelsea from?”

“She’s actually Bec’s little sister. She’s a few years younger than me, getting married next month” Billie explains, looking down at her phone and back up at Glen, “Her husband Patrick, his family owns olive vineyards or something so they’re really well off. Hence the crazy bachelorette party”.

“I assume the wedding's going to be just as big and crazy?”

Billie laughs. “You assume correct. It's on Catalina Island and I'm pretty sure they've hired an entire resort”.

Glen turns back and finishes screwing another one of the legs onto the couch base, wriggling it to make sure its fixed tight.

“What about you, what are you doing tomorrow? Any plans?” Billie asks, handing Glen another screw when he picks up the final leg.

“Yeah actually, I’ve got a friends birthday somewhere in West Hollywood”

“Close friend?” Billie inquires, typing another response to Sloane before putting her phone back down.

“Yeah, my boy Chord. Used to be my roommate back when I first moved to LA” Glen explains, repeating the process with the last couch leg and fixing it to the base, “We’re still super close”.

Billie tilts her head curiously. “Like, Chord, as in Chord Overstreet?”

Glen turns to face Billie and laughs. “Yes that’s him”

Bille chuckles and shakes her head, suddenly wondering if she'll ever get used to hearing Glen talk casually about his famous friends on a first name basis.

“Alright help me lift this?” Glen says suddenly, Billie getting to her feet and stabilising the back of the couch as Glen lifts it the right way up. 

Glen connects the chaise lounge section as Billie peels the protective film from the leather, the two standing back to admire the finished product in front of them.

“So where are you going to put it?” Glen asks, standing back with hands on his hips beside Billie, looking over their handiwork. “I take it we’re moving this one?” he adds, gesturing to her existing grey three-seater with his foot.

Billie nods, “Yep. And then the new one is going to go this way” she explains, motioning with her hands, gesturing along the wall to the left.

Twenty minutes later they’ve rearranged the living room, taken apart the old couch, and replaced it with the new one, Billie turning to grin at Glen happily when he walks back in from taking the last of the packaging rubbish to her bin outside.

“Happy with it?”

Billie smiles happily. “More than happy. I love it” she remarks, stepping forward to adjust one of the new fluffy throw cushions she’s put on it, before flopping down onto it.

“What are you going to do with the old one?”

“I'm gonna try and sell it. Put it on Facebook marketplace or something” she says, smoothing her hand over the caramel coloured leather.

“Thank you for helping” Billie adds when Glen sits down beside her, smiling gratefully when he reaches over and squeezes her bare thigh, “This probably would have taken me all night if you weren’t here”.

“You’re more than welcome darlin’, it was no trouble at all” he replies with a gentle smile, his fingers rubbing small circles into her skin.

She stares at his hand, loving the way his touch feels, feeling the muscles deep in her belly squeeze the longer she watches it. She hasn’t forgotten about her shower comment earlier today, her imagination suddenly conjuring thoughts of her bent over in the shower with him, Glen standing behind her and matching each push of her hips with his own.

She’s just about to open her mouth to suggest as much, Glen’s phone ringing suddenly and breaking the silence. He squeezes her thigh gently, using the other to fish his phone from his pocket and looking down at the number on the screen, offering an apologetic smile to Billie before he accepts the call.

Her thoughts elsewhere, and a slow-burning fire simmering in the pit of her insides, an idea slowly forms in her brain. She stands up from the couch, pausing mid-stand to bend and quickly kiss Glen, making her way to the bedroom and leaving him alone on her new living room couch.

She pulls the tie from her hair and runs her fingers through her long waves, stripping off her work uniform until she’s naked. She leaves her clothes in a strategic trail from her bedroom to her ensuite bathroom, looking back at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She can feel her heart start to race, butterflies unfurling in her stomach, a mix of excitement and nervousness suddenly coursing through her veins.

Billie leans into the shower and turns the water on hot, steam starting to fill the bathroom after a few seconds. She picks up her phone and lets out a shaky, excited breath, opening the camera and pointing it at the mirror until her reflection fills the screen. She turns and tosses her hair back, looking over her shoulder at the mirror, crossing her legs so that her ass curves in just the right way and she teases just a hint of side boob. Covering her face with her phone, she snaps her best sexy selfie, looking down at the screen and grinning excitedly. Deciding it’s her best work yet and feeling the adrenaline shooting down her spine, she inhales deeply, closing her eyes for a moment to calm herself, before tapping at the screen and sending it to Glen.

Waiting for you to join me for that shower, handsome 😉

Billie grins and tosses her phone onto the bathroom counter, stepping into the shower and under the spray of the hot water. She closes her eyes as she tips her head back beneath the water, sighing when she feels her muscles instantly relax. She takes a second to enjoy it - the feel of the hot water soothing her muscles and washing away the day, and the delicious feeling of anticipation from her devious text. She smiles to herself knowing she has maybe a minute before Glen sees her message, her mind filling with thoughts of one thing only.

Forty-seven seconds later she hears footsteps entering the bathroom, unable to help the way her lips part when she hears Glen curse out loud, followed by a near-pained groan that makes her feel all kinds of things deep in her stomach. She doesn’t turn around, instead hearing the shuffling sound of clothes being removed, a cool breeze from the shower door soon being opened making goosebumps rise on her skin. 

She feels Glen’s arms snaking around her waist and joining her under the spray only a second later, his arousal pressing into her ass, already thick, hard and tantalisingly perfect. A heavy breath falls from her when his hand flattens against her belly, her body being pulled back until she’s flush against his chest. She feels his other hand glide up her arm, fingers collecting her wet hair and sliding it over her shoulder, soon dancing along her throat and pulling her head back against his chest.

The action has Billie reeling, every fibre of her body suddenly on fire, her eyes closing when Glen leans in and presses his mouth to her now exposed neck. She can’t help the sigh that escapes her then, letting herself melt into Glen as he kisses and sucks at her skin in the most sensual way.

She’s in heaven, she’s sure of it, feeling her whole body turn to liquid from the feel of the steamy hot water and Glen’s mouth. She nearly whimpers when the hand on her belly glides lower, teasing her for just a moment before he’s cupping her sex. They both groan then - her at the feeling of his fingers slipping through her slippery folds, him at finding her already deliciously wet and wanting.

Her breathing heavy, she musters a sliver of focus from somewhere unknown and reaches one hand behind to find his arousal, wrapping her fingers around and gliding her fist up and down his thick length. The sound Glen makes in her ear reaches the deepest pit of her stomach, his grip on her neck tightening in the best way and only spurring her on more.

She increases her pace but momentarily stalls when Glen slips his fingers inside her, two and then a third only a moment later, the sudden decadent fullness making Billie cry out his name in the most sinful way.

“I love hearin’ you say my name darlin’’” Glen breathes in her ear, his voice only just audible over the spray of the shower, his words like silky velvet wrapping around Billie’s spine and sending shivers throughout her entire body. 

He’s still holding her throat, holding her pressed against his shoulder as he continues his assault on her neck, finger fucking her with a steady rhythm and making the edges of her vision start to blur.

Billie does her best to focus on her own rhythm as Glen curls his fingers inside her, the sounds of wet and skin getting obscenely louder as they both increase their pace. Billie can feel herself quickly unravelling, slipping further into the heady cloud of erotic bliss, her heart thumping so loud she can feel it in her ears. She squeezes her eyes shut, no longer able to focus on her coordination, reluctantly letting go of Glen and instead reaching for the wall to brace herself. 

She doesn’t quite find the wall though, suddenly feeling herself being flipped around, Glen pressing her back against the tiles, caging her in and kissing her lips again hungrily. His lips are feverish, his tongue licking into her mouth, one of his hands sliding down her thigh before hooking it up and over his arm. 

His free hand snakes back to her sex and within moments he’s buried back inside her, curling his fingers once again in a way that makes Billie moan desperately into his mouth. Glen has a better angle like this, his fingers stretching and fucking her in a way that makes her toes curl, Billie knowing she’s done for the moment he finds that perfect spot inside her.

At some point she has to force herself away from Glen’s lips, dropping her head back against the tiled wall as she cries out into the shower. His lips suddenly abandoned, Glen moves down to her throat and sucks at Billie’s skin, pressing his palm against her clit and making her cry out a second time. Billie’s leg wobbles at the new contact and she grabs for his arm, gripping at his thick biceps to stabilise herself as she feels herself start to tremble.

She knows Glen can feel it too then, knowing she’s right there on the edge, his voice deep and silky in her ear as he tells her to come for him.

“Come on peach, that’s it” Glen breathes, his voice like smooth velvet, “Let me feel it baby, let me hear you come”.

His encouragement is her undoing and all of a sudden she’s coming all over his fingers, gripping onto his arms with everything she has as she spasms around his hand. She can feel Glen kissing her as she rides out her high - aware but unable to focus on the feel of his lips on her neck, her jaw, her shoulder, too caught up in her orgasm flooding through her. 

Eventually she stills, Glen still peppering her with kisses, finally pulling his fingers from her and lowering her leg to the floor. He makes sure she’s stable, still holding her waist with one hand, Billie’s eyes fluttering open to find his pale green eyes looking down at her in awe.

“You okay?”

She answers with an exhausted but emphatic nod, the action making Glen chuckle, Billie smiling when he bends to kiss her gently and tuck strands of stray, wet hair behind her ear.

She squeezes his arm, finally recovered from her release, all of a sudden very aware of Glen’s raging arousal that’s pressing against his belly just inches from her own. She inhales deeply, her next decision forming in her brain, Glen noting the change in her expression and looking down at her curiously.

She licks her lips and pushes herself off the wall, using her grip on Glen’s arms to turn him around and swap their positions so that he’s the one now pressed against the tiles. She leans in and kisses him fleetingly, teasing his lips with her tongue, her hands moving to his chest and suddenly sliding down lower.

Glen’s eyes are on her, his lips parted in anticipation as his chest rises and falls, watching Billie’s every move as she slowly, teasingly, sinks down to her knees in front of him to return the favour.

---

Glen

They’re sitting on the new couch after their shower, Glen with a beer and Billie with a glass of rose, Glen glancing over at Billie beside him. Her damp hair is freshly washed and pulled back into a braid that’s snaking down her shoulder, her clear-framed glasses from earlier perched on her nose. She’s wearing a loose pair of soft, grey sweat shorts and a white cropped t-shirt that teases a slice of her toned abdomen whenever she moves a certain way. Even fresh from the shower and with what he’s pretty sure is a face completely free of makeup, he still can’t help but think how fucking gorgeous she is.

Glen lets out a breath and takes a sip of his beer, relaxing back into the couch. Some part of him is still reeling from the shower earlier, certain he'd never get over the sight of Billie on her knees in front of him. The way she’d worked his cock over and over, teasing him and stroking him in the best way until he was coming down her throat. Her bright hazel eyes when she’d gorgeously grinned up at him, the way she’d winked at him after she’d swallowed. The thought was enough to make him hard all over again.

She was a fucking goddess and my God he’d never seen anything more sexy.

The sound of the doorbell ringing breaks him from his thoughts, Billie moving to put down her glass just as Glen stops her with a hand on her knee.

“You stay, I’ll get it”

He puts down his beer and makes his way down the hallway, both Nugget and Brisket already standing at the door and wagging their tails expectantly. Glen bends to ruffle Nugget’s fur with a smile, before opening the door and frowning when he doesn’t find the Chinese takeout he and Billie had ordered earlier.

“Billie we’re engaged!”

Instead he’s met with a hand directly in his face, a thick, shiny gold ring adorning the fourth finger.

Glen’s frown grows even deeper, confusion taking over his face, the hand suddenly yanking away and allowing Glen a full view of the owner.

“Oh…you’re not Billie”

Glen stares blankly at two men standing in front of him, the expressions on their faces just as confused as his own, the three of them seemingly lost for words as they all stare at one another. Glen watches as the taller one stands back and looks up over the house, as if checking that they’re at the right place, the other still looking back at Glen in bewilderment. 

“But that’s Nugget…” the taller one confirms out loud when he spies the happily panting golden dog at Glen’s feet, the first man with the ring tilting his head and blatantly looking Glen up and down. 

“Where’s Billie?” the taller guy asks.

“Wait, are you---” the man with the ring asks at the same time, the two looking at each other for a second before turning back to Glen when he clears his throat.

“She’s inside” he offers, stepping back and calling Billie’s name into the house behind him.

Glen hears his name whispered by one of the men, turning in time to see them whispering to one another, the taller one’s eyes widening in absolute surprise as he realises who’s standing in front of him.

“Oh my fucking God it is!” the taller one remarks loudly, “You’re Glen Powell!”.

Glen only nods at them, looking over his shoulder when Billie suddenly comes jogging up behind him, her face splitting into a smile when she spies the two men.

“Hey guys!” Billie exclaims, opening the door wider and standing beside Glen, “Everything okay?”

“Oh my God Billie!” the one with the ring shouts, clapping his hands happily, “Look! We’re engaged!”.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Billie stutters, looking back and flashing Glen an apologetic smile, reaching out to squeeze his arm before turning back to the two guys.

He thrusts his hand towards Billie and Glen watches as she immediately erupts into excited cheers of congratulations, rushing forward and wrapping both men in a happy hug. Glen shuffles his feet, still having zero idea who the two men are, looking down at Billie as she takes the man’s hand in hers and closely inspects the golden ring.

"Ryan I love it, it’s gorgeous” she gushes, smiling affectionately up at the two, her eyes soon widening as if she suddenly remembers that Glen’s standing there.

“Glen, this is Ryan and Lachlan, my neighbours” she explains, gesturing from him to the men and back again, “Ryan and Lach, this is Glen”.

“You mean Glen Powell” Ryan emphasises as Glen shakes Lachlan’s hand, Billie laughing and shaking her head when Ryan says something under his breath that Glen doesn’t quite catch. 

Glen grins and steps forward to shake Ryan’s hand next, telling them that it’s nice to meet them both and offering his congratulations on their engagement.

“You both have to come in and have a drink to celebrate” Glen proposes, a soft smile on his face as he gestures to the two to come inside.

“Oh no no, we couldn’t impose like that” Lachlan replies immediately, shaking his head in polite decline.

“Absolutely. We couldn’t possibly interrupt your… date night” Ryan adds, accentuating the words ‘date night’ and shooting a questioning look at Billie that she dismisses with a wink and a knowing grin.

“Guys you just got engaged. Please come in and celebrate” Billie insists, gesturing again for them to come in, “I’m certain I have a bottle of champagne somewhere”.

The sound of the word champagne has them both immediately changing tact, Glen stepping aside and holding the door open for them both to pass by. Billie smiles up at him as she turns to follow them, Glen instead catching her arm and stopping her, bending and quickly kissing her. He doesn’t say anything when they part, only winking back at her and loving the way her lips part into her gorgeous smile, Billie tightening her hold on his hand and tugging him towards the living room.

---

Previous Chapter

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[jeankluv]

The forgotten boy - Geto Suguru | Chapter 03

words: 3,2k

summary: He made a deal with the devil, over 1,000 years ago. Just for the sake of his loved ones but the deal came with a condition. Everyone he met from that moment on, would forget about his existence within minutes, and will be like that for the rest of the eternity

Like that Geto Suguru lived for 1,000 years, being forgotten by everyone he met, not being remembered by anyone and being alone.

"You remember me?"

You nodded. “Of course I do.” You smiled. “You have been coming here for a few days now. Always at the same hour and always asking for the same coffee.”

ac: _3aem

tags: angst, fluff, fantasy au, different lifetimes, dual pov, use of y/n, fem!character, modern settings but also past settings, eventual smut, destiny, characters death (in the flashbacks), blood [more tags in the future]

notes: from now on the chapters will be published between Friday-Sunday, I want to take my time to write the chapters properly and they will probably be every two weeks. One week there will be TFB chapter and another week Birdie chapter. This way is easier for me to organize everything. I also have to thank everyone for all your kind messages in this fic, makes me so happy. I personally love this chapter for a particular scene that happens, I hope y’all like it too 🫶

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

Suguru was outside the coffee shop waiting for you to finish your job. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie. The truth is that he has never had an actual date before. Sure he has had encounters with different people over the decades, but it was always one night where he needed to sneak out as soon as possible. Just imagine the shock of those who shared a passionate night with him after waking up and seeing a man they didn’t know anything about.

But with you, he didn’t want to have a passionate night. No. He wanted to get to know you and perhaps meet you on more occasions. Build something between the two of you, even if it was a friendship. He wanted to have that, someone to talk and share things they could remember.

He couldn’t deny it, you were gorgeous. Warm smile and kind eyes, that made his heart pump on his chest like never before. And small freckles on that face. Was it 9 or 10 freckles? He couldn’t remember it exactly.

“Kento!” Your soft voice made him look up. You were smiling at him. “Sorry, did I make you wait a lot? There was a last minute client and couldn’t leave.”

“No, it’s okay.” He smiled back at you.

“Good. So what do you want to do?” You moved your hands nervously.

“Mhm?” He thought for a moment. He only didn’t have much money with him, he didn’t expect to go out with anyone that day and he also didn’t want to borrow more money from Nanami’s apartment. “Are you hungry?”

“Oh I’m starving!” You smiled. “I know a really good place, near here. The sandwiches are delicious and…”

“I don’t have much money with me.”

You opened your mouth and then smiled. “It’s okay, I will invite you.”

“But I was the one that asked you out. It would be rude for you to be paying when it was me.” He said with a worried look.

“Then you will have to invite me out again.” You smiled and grabbed his wrist. “Now let’s go, Kento!”

Suguru just let himself be guided by you. Not only was your smile so warm, your hands were also warm. He watched your back while you still held his wrist, trying to make your way through the crowded street. It was lunchtime and many office workers had gone out to eat at the restaurants in the area. He could lose you if it wasn’t because you were still holding to his wrist.

You walked a few more meters and then turned to the left, through a small street that was not so crowded. You were still holding him and walking in front of him although there were not so many people around.

“Suguru, come on! We need to run from them!” A female voice told him.

Suguru stopped walking, making you also stop. When you turned, you saw his pale face, as pale as you had seen it hours before and his eyes wide open.

Suguru on his part, was trying to understand what that had been. A deja vu? Was that what they were called? He had felt real, even the cold of a nonexistent night had hit his face. But he had not been able to see the woman's figure well and her voice had been a distant echo.

“Kento?” You were looking at him and holding his arms on both sides. “You okay?”

Suguru nodded and tried to put those thoughts aside. “Yeah, don’t worry. There were just a lot of people before and I got a bit stressed. That’s all.” You nodded and this time placed yourself next to him.

You both walked slowly, not speaking but not feeling uncomfortable for the silence that it was formed between the both of you.

You stood in front of the bar where you wanted to take him and looked at him. He approached the door and opened it, letting you through. You entered the place, it was not very crowded and the people who were there seemed to be mainly people from the neighborhood, people who had lived there all their lives. You took his hand and took him to your favorite place. It was a table overlooking an interior patio that was decorated full of nature. You sat down, facing each other and took the menu.

“You should try this.” You said pointing at one of the sandwiches written in the menu. “It’s really good.”

“I would try it then.” He nodded.

“Good.” You stood up but he grabbed your hand. “What?”

“I should be the one ordering and paying…”

You shook your head with a smile. “Nope. This time I will be paying. That way you can ask me out again, right?” You winked your eye and walked out.

Suguru stood there with his mouth slightly opened and watched you as you spoke with someone that apparently you already knew. He turned around and looked through the window, when was the last time he ate with someone else? Probably with Nanami a few months ago, they met again and Suguru invited Nanami to eat, although it was technically Nanami’s money so… but it didn’t matter because that time after their goodbye, he knew Nanami wouldn’t remember him, but this time seemed to be different.

“Here!” You put the two sandwiches on the table.

“Thank you.”

“And tell me Kento.” Every time he heard that name it was strange. “What do you do for the living?” You bite a piece of the sandwich.

Suguru thought for a moment but without looking suspicious. “I work from home, in things related to marketing.” It was all a lie but he had read something about marketing in the newspaper and sounded cool.

“Oh.” You smiled. “That’s cool.” You nodded. “And do you like our coffee shop?”

“Yeah, it’s really nice. The coffee is really good and it has good employees.”

You slightly laughed. “It’s good to hear that and it’s also good to see you there everyday.”

“Let’s stop talking about me.” Suguru stopped you. “Tell me something about you.”

“Well… there is not much to say. I work in the coffee shop, I have a cat, her name is Blue.” You smiled. “And I studied arts.”

“Do you paint?” Suguru asked.

“Yeah.” You searched in your bag. “Here.” You took the sketch book from it and hung it to him. “You can look if you want and give me your honest opinion.”

Suguru held the sketch book between his hands and opened it. The first drawings were a cat, the same cat, it was probably your cat. There were also sketches of different people. You were good, really good. He turned the page and his eyes spotted a familiar figure, it was him, drinking a coffee.

“This…”

“Yeah, sorry.” You flushed. “I thought it was another sketch book with flowers but it was the one where I drew you. Sorry if you feel uncomfortable or something but you looked really good and I don’t know but something inside of me was screaming to draw you. Sorry again.”

“No.” Suguru shook his head. “This is really good. You are really good and I’m glad someone as talented as you can draw me like that. I’m honored.”

You looked at him with surprise. “I… that’s really nice. Thank you.” You said looking down and playing with your hands.

“You deserve to be in a museum or something.” He smiled.

“I doubt anyone would want to buy any of these.” You sighed.

“I would buy them.”

Click. You had this conversation before. But when? Where? You shook your head and smiled back at him. The evening went smoothly, talking about trivial things.

Suguru couldn’t stop admiring you, the way your face light up whenever you were talking about something you liked, the way you would move your hands excited while telling him something. You were mesmerizing. He wanted this to last as much as he could, he didn’t want it to end, he wanted to spend more and more time with you. Hearing you speak, hearing you laugh. He wanted to see you paint.

“Oh shoot!” You gasped, looking at the hour on the clock that was hanging on the wall.

“You need to leave?”

“Yeah…” You sighed. “Kento I really wish I could stay more but…”

“It’s okay, don’t need to worry.” He stood from his chair. “Just let me walk you away. Until you let me.”

“Oh…” You said in surprise. “Then accompany me to my bus stop.” You smiled.

He smiled back and you, taking all the courage on your body, grabbed his hand. You were flustered, you knew it but, nothing of that matter at the moment. You walked side by side holding hands as if you were a couple. Your heart was pumping hardly on your chest and your hands were starting to sweat.

Maybe he doesn’t like it.

On the other hand, Suguru was beyond happy and nervous. He felt like he was a teenager in that exact moment. Maybe it was all happening too fast? He didn’t know, but there was something that connected both of you, in a way he couldn’t comprehend.

“This is my stop.” You said pointing at the stop.

He nodded and looked down at your hands. “I guess it’s a goodbye.”

“Your number.” You mumbled.

He looked at you and shook his head. “I don’t have a phone.”

“Oh that’s…” Strange. “Okay, don’t worry.” You smiled.

“I will still go to the coffee shop.” He smiled back.

“That’s good.” You were nervous. “Then… I will see you tomorrow Kento.” You started walking off but you felt him grabbing your hand once again.

“Wait y/n…” He whispered. “There is something I need to tell you.”

There it comes, he was married or had a girlfriend or something like that. It wasn’t possible for a man this handsome to be single. You couldn’t believe it was going to happen. Damn it.

“My real name…” He swallowed trying to find the words. “My real name is not Kento.”

You opened your mouth and closed it several times, you were confused, to say the least. “Huh? Then what is it?”

“It’s…” He seemed hesitant.

Suguru hesitated, was he going to be able to say it. To say the name he hasn’t said in the last 1,000 years? But maybe if the curse didn’t affect you, he could say it.

“Suguru…” He did it, the words came out of his mouth.

“Suguru…” You repeated and Suguru felt like crying when he heard his name on your lips. “That’s a really pretty name.” You smiled. “Then Suguru, it was a pleasure to meet you and eat with you.”

“It was the same for me y/n.” He smiled.

“I will see you tomorrow Suguru.”

And unintentionally, you let go of your hands, separating yourselves and saying goodbye with a wave. Suguru saw you board the bus and smiled at him from inside. He felt his heart warm up again with every smile you gave him.

You boarded the bus and waved goodbye to Suguru. Suguru. You repeated his name in your head over and over again, feeling your heart swell each time you said it.

The bus started moving, and you watched as Suguru's figure became smaller and smaller in the distance.

Resting your head against the bus window, you began to think about the "date" you had with Suguru. It was strange that Suguru had hidden his name and given you a false one, but for some reason, it didn't make you feel insecure or intimidated. In fact, it only fueled your curiosity to learn more about Suguru. His mysterious aura intrigued you, leaving you yearning for deeper connection.

As the bus rumbled on, your mind drifted back to your encounter with Suguru, each memory and conversation was being replayed in your mind, vividly.

Despite the ambiguity surrounding his identity, a strong bond seemed to have formed between you, as if destiny had orchestrated your meeting.

You wanted to know more about him, to see him again, to know what he was hiding behind those tired eyes.

Once you arrived at your stop, you advanced with a firm step to the place where you were going. You were going to present one of your works to be evaluated and perhaps obtain a job. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt your hands shaking more and more as you got closer to the art gallery.

Outside the gallery you saw Shoko, smoking a cigarette. When she noticed your presence she threw it away and smiled at you.

“You are here!” You hugged your friend.

“I'm scared to death, Shoko.” You cried a little.

“You will do well, the painting is impressive.” She rubbed your back, giving you the security you were missing.

“Have you brought it?” You asked, to which Shoko nodded her head.

You both headed towards her car, where the painting that you would display was stored with great care.

“You don't know how much I appreciate you bringing it to me.” You sighed. “If I had had to bring it on the bus, it would surely have been damaged.”

“No problem.” She shook her head, not caring. “I'll wait for you outside.”

"Don't you have to work at the hospital?" You said, grabbing the painting carefully.

"Not today, today is my day off." A smile appeared on her face. “We can go have something to drink later, we can call ‘Hime to come over, if her schedule allows it of course." She shrugged. “And Yuki, she's still out, right?”

“Yes, I don't think she's back yet. That's fine with me.” You smiled. “Then I'll see you in a bit.” You said turning on your feet.

“Good luck!” Shoko yelled at you from where you had left her.

Resolutely grabbing the painting, you opened the door to the art gallery and entered with your head held high and your step firm.

On the other side of the city Suguru walked with a calm step, as he usually did. But this time with a new warmth in the chest. Being able to share with you, even if it was just lunch, had made him feel alive.

He looked at his wrist and remembered the warm touch of your hand gently surrounding his wrist. The smiles you had offered him and those ten freckles that decorated your face. Yes, Suguru had counted them and had wanted to memorize them perfectly.

Arriving at the place where he spent his afternoons, he sat in the same place and contemplated the same view that he had been contemplating for months. With the breeze blowing against his face and moving his hair, he closed his eyes and began to think.

˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆

— over 1,000 years ago

Suguru was on the hill of the town, while in one hand he grabbed a stick he had found and made drawings on the ground. He was bored.

He had done every task a 6 year old could do and now he was on that hill completely alone and bored. There wasn't much to do in that town and children his age were also helping their parents, so he only had to wait for someone to get him out of the boredom he felt.

“Suguru!!” A voice called him from a distance.

With a smile on his face, Suguru stood up from the ground and threw the stick away from him. Running up the hill, his best friend went up. His white hair was easily visible from a long distance and his cry calling him had probably been heard throughout the whole town.

“Satoru!!” Suguru said happily as his best friend reached him.

The little boy leaned on his knees, trying to catch the breath that had escaped from his lungs after running up the hill.

"Guess what?" Satoru looked up, regaining his usual energy. Suguru shook his head indicating for him to continue. "Today I went with my father to a village and there was a river on the way. And there were tadpoles in it!"

Suguru looked at him strangely. "Tadpoles?"

Satoru nodded. "It's where frogs come from!" Suguru opened his mouth in surprise. "My father let me bring some and we left them in the pond at my house. My father says that then frogs would come out." Satoru grabbed Suguru's hand and pulled him along. "Come on, I'll show you!"

The two children ran down the hill. The townspeople were not surprised to see them together, since, since they could remember, they had both been together. Crossing the streets, the two children arrived at Satoru's family home and approached the small pond there. Satoru letting go of Suguru's hand, crouched down and put both hands in the water and then showed them to his best friend.

“Look." He nodded. “Do you see the black things?” Suguru nodded. “That will then turn into frogs!” Satoru said with excitement.

"How?" Suguru asked, wanting to satisfy his intrigue.

Satoru shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to answer. “I guess they will become strong and transform into frogs.” Suguru nodded. "Like you and me!" Satoru exclaimed, leaving the tadpoles back in the pond. “We will become strong and we will become the strongest!” He raised his fist. “We will serve the emperor as the strongest warriors.”

“I doubt our parents would like the idea.” Suguru sighed in resentment.

“But once we are older we can do as we please.” Satoru smiled. “We will leave this town and become the strongest together.” He stood up and stretched out his hand for Suguru to grab.

Suguru looked at the hand and then at his best friend, in his eyes he could see determination and bravery, and that gave him infinite confidence.

With a smile he grabbed the hand of his best friend and nodded. “We will be the strongest warriors!”

“Yes! The strongest!” Satoru replied.

“Don't even think about it!” A voice interrupted them.

"Mother!" Satoru protested. "You can't stop us, Suguru and I will leave this place and become the best warriors in the world."

“You are too small to know what you want.” Satoru's mother scolded them. “You don't know what dangers there are. Spirits, curses and worse.”

“Mom, those are children's stories.”

"No my son, it's real, it's better that you never join the emperor's army."

“Is that dangerous, Mrs. Gojo?” Suguru asked.

“Yes Suguru, so please don't do it.”

“But it won't matter because Suguru and I will be the strongest ones and we will be able to handle everything.” Satoru smiled arrogantly.

“This kid…”

˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆˖✧˖°.✶₊ ⊹ ⋆

As Suguru looked towards the horizon, memories of the past still lingering in his mind, he couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over him. The sunset in the distance served as a poignant reminder of the passage of time.

With a deep sigh, Suguru knew it was time to return to the present, to the reality that awaited him at "home." Although the past had its own appeal, he realized that thinking about what could have been would only serve to anchor him in a perpetual state of longing and regret.

As he walked away into the sunset, Suguru took a moment to focus on the present moment, to appreciate the beauty of the world around him and the possibilities that lay ahead. The fleeting memory of your face crossed his mind as he thought about the future that awaited him. And a smile appeared on his face, because for the first time in centuries, Suguru harbored some hope in his heart.

Final notes: I know somethings might seem rare at first but then they will make sense, but if I say something it would be a spoiler. Also don’t ever be surprised if I call Suguru by mistake Satoru, bc sometimes I’m writing TFB and I go “Satoru said” and I’m like “shit this is not Satoru this is Suguru!” So yeah

— comment if you want to be tagged

🏷️: @drownedpoetess @aducksmokingquack @walkingtravesty97 @pdacex @zhenyuuu @n1vi @blendingcaramal @mimiixen @bbyxxm @paprikaquinn @my1fx @alwaysfreakingout @simplysm1le @lavender-hvze @ghostkat23 @madaqueue

[rahuratna]

Get that Bread, Sir

Written for the Foodies and Goodies challenge, created by the amazing @tsukimefuku !

Ijichi hummed tunelessly, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel. Today was going to be a relatively stress-free day, a rarity in his line of work. And it was a Monday too. A stress-free Monday … practically unheard of! He owed it all to his overly diligent handling of the paperwork from the missions last week. He’d put in some overtime and managed to complete all outstanding tasks before the end of the day on Friday.

Friday afternoon had seen him exhausted, but happy and accomplished. He’d even managed to enjoy his weekend. And today … well. Nanami had requested his assistance on a mission in a quiet suburb, located an hour away from Shinjuku. The research had been run-of-the-mill and the file he’d compiled was handed over to Nanami with confidence that the information would guide him well.

Now, all he had to do was ensure that Nanami reached each location on time and make sure that the hard working first grade sorcerer had something to eat when he returned to the car. Speaking of which …

Ijichi checked his watch and nodded. It was almost lunch time. Nanami would probably complete his work at the marked location within the hour. It was time to go and buy him a meal.

Setting the car in gear, he pulled away from the kerb and drove slowly through the town centre, searching for any restaurants or seven-elevens that looked promising. Ijichi knew that Nanami preferred sandwiches, but was also partial to most food, provided that the ingredients were of good quality. He exclaimed softly as he spotted a small, but neatly kept deli on the corner, adjoining a bakery to the right. It looked like the perfect place to buy Nanami what he preferred.

Pulling up, he parked and hopped out, glancing up at the awning over the deli. It read “Sugimoto’s Slice of the Day”. The small board standing outside advertised that day’s specials: a pork cutlet sandwich, served with salad and a free coffee, and a baked cheese and corn with a pickled garnish and tea. Ijichi’s mouth watered at the thought of the cheese and corn on a cold day like this. He was also sure that Nanami would appreciate the sandwich.

Tugging slightly as his scarf, Ijichi pushed open the door of the deli, a small bell over the entryway tinkling musically as he made his way in. There were a few people in the shop, and he had obviously missed the lunchtime rush. He ordered his cheese and corn at the counter, turning to browse the shelves as he waited. He found some delicious looking croissants, along with a selection of freshly baked madeleines that he had always been partial to. Searching further, he breathed out a small sigh of relief when he saw that there was still one of the pork cutlet sandwiches left. As much as there were other options, this one looked particularly succulent.

As he reached for the sandwich, the bell over the door rang once again. Someone brushed brusquely past him and snatched the sandwich off the shelf, the same one he had been about to grasp. Ijichi turned, indignant, but the sudden hush that had descended over the store gave him pause. The person who had grabbed the sandwich was a stunning woman in a fitted maroon top and dark jeans, the sparkling diamond earrings she wore offset against her lush raven hair. She was obviously known in the area, because the quiet in the store was quickly broken by whispers and glances in her direction. The woman in question was looking at Ijichi as if he were a worm that had crawled out from under a rock.

“Problem?” she questioned, archly.

Now, Ijichi was normally a well-mannered, placid man who would not court trouble of any kind. Under other circumstances, he may have backed down and exited the store without comment, but there was something about this woman’s manner of speech and the way she looked at him, with that small, mocking smile, that rubbed him the wrong way. Not to mention, Ijichi had had to face down Gojo on a daily basis at work. Whoever this lady was, she certainly wasn’t in the league of the strongest sorcerer of modern times. This fact was what made Ijichi’s posture straighten, and his brows draw together.

“Yes, ma’am, there is a problem.”

She had been half turning away, but his words stopped her in place. Turning to him, one of her perfectly drawn eyebrows raised so high it almost disappeared into her hairline.

“And what, pray tell, may that be?”

“I was about to take that sandwich when you grabbed it. In a very ill-mannered way, might I add. I’d appreciate it if you put that sandwich down.”

She looked at him incredulously.

“Do you know who I am?”

The whispers around them were growing in volume. Ijichi’s mouth drew into a stubborn line.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

The woman uttered a sharp bark of laughter. She didn’t bother responding to Ijichi, merely jerking her head at the burly man who seemed to be her companion. Ijichi noted that the man carried what looked like high-end filming equipment, an expensive video camera in his hand. ‘Muscles’, as Ijichi dubbed him in his mind, turned and shoved his bulk behind the woman, allowing her to progress to the counter unhindered.

Oh no. No, no. Not today.

Ijichi was not quite sure what came over him then. Perhaps it was the fact that they were in a small town which he was not likely to visit again. Perhaps it was the fact that none of the other sorcerers or any of his work colleagues were nearby. Maybe the miso soup he’d eaten for breakfast contained some special ingredient that gave him daring.

Grabbing one of Muscle’s elbows, Ijichi manoeuvred past him with ease, his sorcerer training coming in handy. In the same motion, he snatched the sandwich out of the woman’s hand, giving her no time to protest before he slapped some money down on the counter, grabbed his order of cheese and corn, and dashed out the door.

“Hey! You – “

“What the – “

“Get back here!”

“How dare you! Satou, get him!      

For all their posturing, Ijichi was a lot faster than Muscles, who he now knew as Satou. By the time people had been pushed out of the way and the bakery door slammed open, Ijichi was already behind the wheel, pulling away from the kerb, swinging the steering expertly. In his rearview mirror he saw the woman grab the video camera away from her companion as they clambered into a white van with some kind of mural on the side. He noted that she had lifted the camera, from where she sat in the passenger seat, and seemed to be filming his car.

Oh no, you don’t.

Accelerating away, Ijichi took one hand off the wheel, raising his index and middle finger in front of him.

“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness … “

Of all the jujutsu techniques, summoning a veil was the one that Ijichi was most proficient at. Although not possessing a huge amount of cursed energy, control and manipulation of the little he had had always been his strength. He could manipulate cursed energy to the point that he could make smaller, condensed curtains over objects and people of his choice. He used that ability now to shroud his car, such that any identifying factors would be impossible to record on camera.

Eat that, lady.

The country roads were winding and empty, allowing Ijichi to use his far superior driving skills to navigate the tricky turns and sharp bends with ease. Although his pursuers would probably be far more familiar with the area, they were no match for a Jujutsu Tech assistant determined to leave them in the dust. Ijichi eventually lost them, pulling to a stop in slightly concealed cul-de-sac. He consulted his GPS, nodding in satisfaction when he realised that he was not far from Nanami’s pick up point.

Emerging slowly from the cul-de-sac, Ijichi drove to Nanami’s location. Standing tall and intimidating in his longer-length warm coat, blonde hair gleaming in the winter sun, Nanami cut a distinctive figure standing on the sidewalk. Ijichi hoped that nobody would connect their arrival in town with the … incident.

Seeing the car, Nanami raised a hand and approached, clambering into the back seat. He exhaled heavily and worked the tension out of his neck.

“Successful mission, Nanami?”

“Yes. No issues. All targets at the location have been exorcised.”

Succinct as always, Nanami relaxed into the cushioned seat with a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Having known the man for this long, Ijichi knew that there was only one thing that could fix that fatigue. He was one of the very few who was privy to the sight of Nanami surrounded by breads and snacks of various kinds, the chiselled, angular face bulging slightly at the cheeks like a hamster as the sorcerer helped himself to the things that made him most happy.  

Contrary to the stoic and cold demeanour Nanami showed most others, he was kind and generous with many things, including his food. He would often share with Ijichi and had even remembered all of Ijichi’s favourites. This was why Ijichi had gone through such lengths to procure that sandwich today. This man, of all sorcerers, was worth the effort. Reaching for the parcel in the passenger seat, he handed the wrapped sandwich to Nanami.  

“Here you go. It’s a pork cutlet sandwich, with salad. There’s also coffee in the cup holder and some croissants. Still warm!”

“Ah, thank you.”

It was extremely subtle, but Nanami perked up immediately and unwrapped the sandwich, taking a large bite followed by a quick, satisfied sip from the coffee cup. Ijichi smiled and put the car in gear once again, heading for the interchange that would lead them back to Tokyo.

“Have you eaten, Ijichi?”

“Err … not yet. I’m not that hungry. I’ve got something for myself though, so I’ll warm it up at the next stop.”

He couldn’t exactly let Nanami know his reasons for wanting to book it out of that town as soon as possible.

____________________________________________________

Of course, things never worked out that smoothly for him.

Somehow, the story reached even a few news sources in Tokyo. The strange tale of the well-known morning magazine show host, Maeda Yoshino, who had been robbed of her sandwich by a mysterious dark-suited man. What drew the audience in wasn’t so much the bread snatching, but the fact that on the recorded footage, the car had been obscured by a dark cloud that was shaped suspiciously like a raised middle finger.

Yoshino and her assistant had insisted that they hadn’t seen such a cloud surrounding the car during the chase, but had never closed the gap enough to take the registration number. Yoshino appeared on TV, indignantly describing how the man had grabbed the last speciality pork cutlet sandwich right out of her hand.  

Ijichi tried his best to avoid Nanami at work, knowing full well that the wily sorcerer would take no time at all to figure the situation out. It appeared that he had not been entirely successful there either. Coming in to work one morning, he paused as he noted a parcel on his desk. Opening it, he found a beautifully prepared pork cutlet sandwich with a note stuck to the packaging.

Next time, we’ll just go for yakiniku.

Nanami.

@strawberry1042 @darkfaerietails @Jay220a @fattybattysblog @suguru-nugget @senseifupa @aleigant @gigiculona

[bluedesignwall]

It was cloudy up north but clear down south on my run along the beach today. The sun was out the wind was strong until it suddenly stopped. Nice to be out there amongst it.

[yelenasdiary]

Hi hi hi! Can I request Flufftober Scarlett x Reader romantic? Maybe falling asleep in Scarlett’s arms after a hard day? Or attending a party where Scarlett wants nothing more than to be by your side always?

Thank you 🙏🙏🫡

Feels Like Home

Pairing:  Scarlett Johansson x GN! Reader

Summary:  After a long, long day at work, Scarlett makes the afternoon super relaxing.

Warnings:  None | 0.8K

AC: Thank you for requesting this, I hope you enjoy it! x

October Special Masterlist

Your legs, arms, neck and back all ached as you walked through the front door of your home, greeted by the smell of a home cooked meal causing you to sigh in relief. Scarlett was home, after being away for two days, you were glad to have her home, especially after today. Working in childcare has its ups and downs, the downside is how tiring it is by the end of the day. 

Covered in all sorts of things, the first thing you do is kick your shoes off and sneak off to the bathroom. A warm shower helped relax your body, thank god it was Friday and you had the weekends off. Being so close to Halloween, the children were busy making all kinds of different Halloween decorations to take home to their family. 

After your shower, you wandered into the kitchen, smiling softly when you locked eyes with Scarlett. "Welcome home" she walked over to you, wrapped her arms around you. "I could say the same about you" you replied with a chuckle before letting your body sink into her hold. Scar placed a kiss on the top of your head, "rough day?" she asked seeing how drained you looked. 

"Long, just a long, long day" you replied as you kindly pulled away to look into her eyes, "I missed you a lot" you added. You always did miss her when she was away but even more so when you were exhausted. "I figured the last few days were tough, I'm cooking your favourite, and it should be ready in the next 20 minutes. Go get yourself comfy on the sofa, I've already placed a hot coco on the coffee table and your favourite blanket is waiting for you" Scarlett replied, placing a kiss on your lips. 

"You're the best" you complimented before making your way into the living room. 

Netflix was already waiting for you to endlessly scroll through until Scarlett joined you on the sofa, your favorite fluffy blanket was calling your name as you sat down and pulled it over yourself, reaching for the mug of fresh coco to warm your hands. You weren't even bothered that you left your phone in the bedroom or the fact that you still hadn't gone grocery shopping like you planned too after work, but then again, you knew Scarlett probably had already covered that as well. 

"Here you are my love" Scarlett smiled as she handed you a dish of your favorite meal that smelt amazing, she always was able to cook it to perfection. "Thank you, baby! It looks amazing!" you replied, suddenly remembering just how hungry you truly were having last eaten at lunchtime. 

The two of you ate over small talk before finally deciding on a movie to watch, The Mother. Scarlett was more into the movie while you struggled to stay awake, especially when you were cuddled up with Scar and her fingers running through your hair. You were more focused on the sound of her heart beating and feeling the way her stomach moved against you as she breathed in and out, she was like a natural relaxant. 

Soon enough you felt your body drifting off into a slumber, you tried your best to stay awake to finish the movie, but you couldn't fight the fatigue and eventually Scarlett heard soft snores coming from you. She pulled the blanket up to cover you more and placed another kiss on the top of your head, "I love you" she whispered even if you couldn't hear her. 

Falling asleep in the arms of somebody you loved so dearly was a feeling of home in itself. You felt safe, loved, valued and seen. All things Scarlett never failed to make you feel, even with her celebrity status, she always made it clear that nothing ever felt like home than being at home with you. 

By morning, you woke up in your shared bed, Scarlett still asleep beside you. She had carried you to bed shortly after the movie had finished but you were so tired, you didn't even feel a thing. You couldn't help yourself but kiss the blonde's cheek softly before slipping out of bed and making your way to the kitchen. You were right, Scarlett had taken care of the grocery shopping, you grabbed all the ingredients you needed to make some French toast and freshly squeezed orange juice. 

You were squeezing the juice when you felt two arms wrap around your waist, "good morning" Scarlett's raspy voice pulled a smile from your lips. "You were supposed to stay in bed" you chuckled, "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed!" you added.  

"I'm sorry, I missed you. I went to snuggle you, but you were missing, I thought I lost you" She joked, making you both chuckle at her poorly made joke. 

"Well, act surprised, breakfast is served" you turned in her arms and smiled softly before holding up some French toast to her lips, she took a bite and hummed at the taste, "best French toast I have ever had!" she complimented. 

"The chef only takes compliments in kisses" you smirked with a raised brow. Scarlett pulled you closer and kissed you softly. This was home, to you and to her.

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[rebelliousmuse]

Perfect To Me – N.S.

This one’s for the boys.

I was so close to making a smut about Nick, but then I wrote the ending of this writing and thought it would be a sin to add something filthy to it.

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

You collapsed onto the bed, a sigh escaping your lips. Grabbing your phone, you pulled up the triplets' latest Friday Youtube video.

The familiar sight of Nick, Matt, and Chris filled the screen. Nick, as always, was the most animated. A laugh bubbled up from your chest as Matt delivered a dry retort, his mattitude showing once again.

As they answered fan questions, a warm feeling spread through you. You watched Nick's smile widen when he read a question about "the amazing y/n." Once the video finished, you decided to leave a like and comment “Another great video, very proud of you”, you typed it out, adding a heart emoji for good measure.

Scrolling through the comments, you loved seeing the support the triplets got. You knew how much these messages meant to them.

With a yawn, you reached for the lamp. Pulling on Nick's oversized sweatshirt he had left at your place, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses, you settled deeper into the bed. A quick text sent Nick's way, a simple "goodnight" and a reminder of your unwavering love. As you drifted off to sleep, a smile played on your lips, the image of Nick's goofy grin warming your dreams.

The sizzle of bacon filled the air. Some notifications chimed on your phone, the goofy cat emoji that always meant Sarah, your coworker, had a message inviting you for drinks with your work friends later that night. Ignoring it for now, you focused on cracking an egg, the golden yolk a burst of sunshine against the white plate. Reaching for your phone again, you unlocked it with a smile. Nick's message sat at the top; his usual playful greeting accompanied by a string of heart emojis. You could practically hear his voice in the text wishing you a goodnight as well and reciprocating your love.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you pictured him sprawled out on the bed, messy hair, still fast asleep. With a mischievous grin, you typed out your response, "Good morning, sleepyhead! Don't forget we have those errands to run later." Sending it off, you imagined him groaning playfully when he woke up.

With a click, you opened the Youtube app and navigated to the triplets' video. A grin stretched across your face as you scrolled through the comments under your message. There, in a vibrant stream of text, was a wave of support for you and Nick.

"You two are the cutest couple ever!" one comment exclaimed. Another playfully teased, "Looks like someone's whipped!" You chuckled, deciding to reply to that one with a cheeky wink emoji.

You spent a few more minutes reading the comments. It always touched you to see the love the fans had for Nick and the positive energy surrounding your relationship. Finally, with a satisfied sigh, you closed the app and returned to your breakfast.

It was well past lunchtime, and your stomach grumbled in protest. Finally, your phone buzzed. Nick's name flashed on the screen. You saw the message, just a simple "good morning" without his usual string of emojis and playful nicknames.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. You typed a question mark, then deleted it. You tried a light-hearted joke, but it felt too much even to you.

Thirty minutes later, you pulled up to Nick's place. He emerged from the building, walking slowly towards your car. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, looked tired, the familiar spark dulled. His greeting was a mumbled "Hey”. The feeling in your gut intensified. Something was wrong, and you were determined to find out what.

Concern showing on your face as you reached out, gently cupping Nick's chin in your fingers. Leaning in, you brushed your lips against his in a soft, questioning kiss.

"Hey," you murmured, your voice thick with concern. "Is everything alright?"

Nick's gaze flickered away, his hand nervously tugging at the collar of his shirt, a forced smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. What are you up to today?"

You launched into the plans for your day. "First, lunch! Then I have a clothes shopping spree planned, and I figured it would be a fun way to spend some time together."

A flicker of something like panic crossed Nick's face as you mentioned lunch, a fleeting expression you almost missed. He cleared his throat, forcing a laugh. "Oh, uh, lunch sounds great! Just... maybe somewhere a little later? I, uh, grabbed a big breakfast this morning."

You brushed aside the unease feeling at your gut. After all, he said he was okay. Pushing aside your doubts, you focused on the positives. "Alright, later works too! Come on, Mr. Sleepyhead, let's get some shopping done!"

A smile broke across Nick's face as you emerged from the dressing room in a pair of outrageous sequin pants you sneaked in so you could improve his mood. He burst out laughing, playfully calling you a disco ball. Relief washed over you as his laughter filled the air.

Holding up a bright blue graphic tee with a cool design, you envisioned him in it. "This one!" you exclaimed, holding the shirt up with a smile. "It'd look awesome on you!"

Nick's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of unease crossing his features. He looked down at the shirt, then back at you, his fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of his own shirt. "Uh, it's cool," he mumbled, his voice hesitant. "Just not really my style, you know?"

You nudged him playfully. "Come on, don't be a scaredy-cat," you teased, concern lacing your voice. "Try it on! Imagine yourself rocking this bad boy. You'd look amazing."

Nick shook his head, his gaze flickering around the room. "I appreciate it, babe," he said, his voice strained. "But not now, okay?"

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his arm. "Okay," you said, your voice firm but laced with concern. "Something's definitely off today. What is it? Don't tell me ‘Nothing.' I know you better than that."

Nick bit his lip, avoiding your gaze. A sceptical smile played on your lips as Nick mumbled an excuse about lack of sleep. You knew him too well, his bad nights usually manifesting in dark circles under his eyes, not a forced smile.

"Uh-huh," you teased. "Seems your pants are on fire, babe!" You sang the last part in a silly voice, hoping to lighten the mood.

Nick gave you a look that clearly said, "stop," a flicker of frustration crossing his features.

"Look," you began, your voice softening with concern, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "If I did something that made you mad or…"

Nick cut you off. "Babe, you're okay," he reassured you, but his eyes held a sadness that couldn't be masked. "It's just… those haters…"

You knew exactly what he was referring to. Those negative comments on social media, the ones that had a nasty habit of getting under his skin despite your constant reassurances.

"Don't listen to those miserable waste of space," you declared fiercely. "You are, and always will be, the best human being to ever walk this planet. They can spread all the negativity they want, but it doesn't change the truth."

A flicker of a genuine smile tugged at the corner of Nick's lips as he held you close.

"Whatever garbage they spewed about the video, I don't agree for a second." You paced the store, frustration radiating off you like heat waves. Reaching out, you held Nick's hand. "Look," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "Let me treat you. We both need a good lunch, especially me," you added. Paying for the clothes you'd picked out; you left the store.

At the restaurant, Nick's usual carefree spirit seemed to have vanished. He flipped through the menu repeatedly, his brow furrowed in an uncharacteristic frown.

Connecting the dots, you realized where the negativity might be coming from. The haters and their cruel comments. Your fists clenched under the table, your knuckles turning white. You wanted to scream at them, to make them see how amazing Nick was, how beautiful he was inside and out.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to stay calm. Nick needed your support, not your rage. You stole glances at him, hoping he'd feel comfortable enough to open up. It would take time, you knew. For Nick, talking about his insecurities wasn't always easy. But you'd be there, ready to listen whenever he was ready to speak.

Nick's voice was low as he ordered a simple salad. A knot of worry tightened in your gut as you contrasted his barely audible request with your own booming order of a juicy steak and a mountain of mashed potatoes.

"Gotta keep my energy up for all this shopping!" you winked at the waiter, a forced cheer in your voice.

Nick wasn't himself. The man who usually ate his food with relish, his eyes sparkling with enjoyment, was now barely picking at his salad.

The pattern became clear. Every time you were distracted – a group of kids shrieking with laughter, the waiter refilling your water glasses – Nick would take a single, hesitant bite of his salad. He'd dart his eyes around the room, a flicker of shame crossing his features when he caught you looking. It was as if he was hiding from you.

How dare those internet deformed looking toads make Nick feel ashamed? He was perfect, exactly the way he was.

Slamming the cash onto the table, you left a tip that would make the waiter's jaw drop. "Keep the change," you growled.

Reaching across the table, you took Nick's hand in yours. Squeezing gently, you gave him a reassuring smile. "Honey," you said, your voice soft but firm. "We're going somewhere special."

You tried to keep things light during the drive, peppering the conversation with jokes and anecdotes, but Nick's responses were minimal, a forced smile occasionally flickering across his lips.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled off the highway and onto a winding country road. Finally, you reached your destination.

The place was breathtaking. Towering oaks, their leaves a vibrant green. Sunlight peeked through, casting dancing patterns on the forest floor. In the distance, a waterfall roared, its mist creating a shimmering rainbow in the clear air.

Reaching into the trunk, you pulled out a picnic blanket. Unfolding it carefully, you spread it out on the soft grass under an oak.

"What do you think?" you asked Nick. He stood there, his gaze sweeping across the ethereal landscape. Sunlight on his face, highlighting the remnants of surprise that lingered in his eyes. You knew you'd hit the jackpot. This place, with its emerald trees, the cascading waterfall, and the crystal-clear lake reflecting the sky above, was made for the photos Nick loved to capture.

A smile bloomed on your face as you reached out, wrapping your arms around him from behind. His body tensed slightly for a moment, but then he melted into your embrace, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder.

In a soft voice, you whispered, "Enjoy the peace, babe. Relax that beautiful mind of yours. No matter what those idiots say online, your fans love you, and so do I."

You felt Nick's body relax completely in your embrace. A soft sigh escaped his lips. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face.

"My camera roll is going to be overflowing by the end of the day with these views," he said, his voice filled with a newfound lightness. The playful glint returned to his eyes, a spark you'd missed dearly. You couldn't help but grin. Seeing him genuinely happy again was all the reward you needed.

[bupia]

Love letter: Chapter 2 - Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a long and arduous Saturday, Sunday finally arrived. For the first time in months, you were not too excited to see Cardinal Copia in the Sunday’s black mass.

Words: 5.346

Warnings: Some Italian swearing / Teasing / Smut next chapter.

Check the Chapter 1  Check the amazing art by @quaildoodle​ based on the end of this Chapter

After reading the letter you found, your feelings were mixed up, something between confusion, curiosity, and a bit of excitement. The mere possibility that the letter could be addressed to me stirred a whirlwind of thoughts and self-reflection. You wanted to believe that the way Cardinal Copia acted around you could be the reason why he would write a letter like this to you.

Even if it was not for you, if Cardinal Copia is in love with someone from the Ministry, then that person is lucky. Not only because they were able to capture Cardinal's feelings, but also because they would have Cardinal all to themselves. It was hard not to fall for Cardinal Copia; he was special in his own way. His unique charm, charisma, and enigmatic persona had drawn you in. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that it could have been meant for you. But who were you trying to fool if not yourself?

You spent the entire Saturday hiding the letter in your habit's pocket just to make sure you wouldn't lose it. On weekends, the Ministry was more crowded than on normal weekdays, and also, it was the cleaning day. It would get even worse on Sundays, especially due to the preparations for black mass, so every room would get cleaned from the ceiling to the floor, you couldn't risk to get it falling into the wrong hands. 

On Sundays like that, most of the siblings would get excited to be in Papa's presence, but not you. You would wait for the Sunday black mass just to catch a glimpse of Cardinal Copia. After Friday, you would wait to meet him over the weekend or at the Sunday black mass. However, today was different. You weren't prepared to see him yet.

As the morning had already passed and lunchtime had been over for a few hours, you decided to go out and enjoy some free time in the garden. You still had a few hours to enjoy the rest of the afternoon before the black mass started. You needed to leave those marble walls for a while to breathe some fresh air and clear your mind. You had to get that silly love letter and the fact that Cardinal Copia was in love with someone else off your mind. But before you had the chance to go out, you heard your name being called from a distance.

"Sister, please wait!" You stopped walking and turned to face the voice. "Please, wait!" Sister Helena was running to catch up with you. "Get back! Wait!"

"Sister Helena!" You greeted her with an endearing smile. "What's going on? Is something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine. With me.” She giggles. “I just came after you because Cardinal Copia is asking for your presence in his office." 

You were immediately frozen upon hearing Cardinal's name. Today was Sunday, why would he need to see you in his office? You didn't expect to see him until black mass. You looked at her confused because this was not a common occurrence.

"I met him in the corridor with Sister Imperator and he asked me to find you."

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, you hurriedly made your way towards Cardinal Copia's office, not even stopping to apologize as you bumped into some people in your path. If Cardinal Copia was asking for you, it was because something had happened, so this was not the right moment to avoid him. But, what did he need to discuss with me that prompted his urgent call? 

As you approached his office, you were already feeling nervous. Getting close to the door of his office at the end of the long corridor, you took a deep breath and took some steps until you were in front of it. You raised your arm and knocked twice, but there was no sound. You pressed your ear against the door. No sound.

You decide to reach for the doorknob and open the door enough to poke your head into the office and look around. There is no sign of Cardinal. Suddenly, you see Cardinal Copia coming out of a door that connects his office to the Ministry's archive room, with Terzo following closely behind him, fixing his white glove on his hand. You retract your head slightly, using the half-opened door as cover.

"Perché cazzo non me l'hai detto?" Cardinal says in an acerbic tone, going to his desk and putting the file folder he had in his hands on it. "This is not how it should be, fratello!"

"Fratello! Sai che io sono il Papa! And as Papa, I can make some decisions without consulting the clergy or you." He says, giving him a sarcastic smile. "Especially this one."

"Non dire stronzate!" Cardinal turns his body in Terzo's direction. You've never seen Cardinal talking and acting like that before. "Sì, you are the Papa, Fratello. But I'm your counselor, and I would expect you to see me as such." Terzo giggles and puts a hand on Cardinal's shoulder, but Cardinal removes it almost immediately.

"I've already decided it." Terzo says in a serious tone. "I know what I'm doing."

Cardinal sighs. "Don't get me wrong, fratello, I'm not disappointed." He turns his back to Terzo walking to the window close to his desk opening the curtains. "I just wished you've told me before."

"Mi dispiace." Terzo let out a heavy breath. "Also, we have company." He turns his face to the door, looking directly at you. Cardinal turns his gaze to the door, seeing your face trying to hide behind the door. "So I guess we will talk later after the black mass, Cardinal." He walked to the door, opening it, and gesturing for you to pass through.

"Thank you, Papa." You say as you step inside the office, giving Terzo an adoring smile, but your eyes turn back to Cardinal Copia almost immediately, feeling anxious thinking that you may have interrupted a serious conversation. 

"Prego, Sorellina." Terzo replies in a flirty voice. "So, you are the sorella who assists my fratellino?" You notice Cardinal's eyebrows drawing together, as if he is annoyed by the sarcastic tone coming out of Terzo's question.

"Yes, Papa." You voice your words respectfully, noting his gaze taking you in from head to toe.

"Posso capire perché mio fratello ha scelto te." His words were incomprehensible to you, but before you could say anything, Terzo left the office and shut the door.

"Cazzo!" Cardinal spoke in a voice slightly above a normal level.

You approach him, resting a hand on his back rubbing it in circles, looking worriedly at him. He turns his face to you, looking into your eyes and letting out a heavy sigh from his lips, you could feel him relaxing his tense body with your touch.

"Sorella..." He murmurs closing his eyes. "I'm sorry that you had to witness this scene." The soft tone on his voice sends shivers down your spine. It sounded almost as if he was purring.

"It's okay, Cardinal. I won't tell anyone about it." You assure him removing your hand from his back resting it on his arm. He turns his attention in our direction opening his eyes. "Do- I mean, can you talk about what happened between you and Papa?"

"Terzo came to talk to me today about something he's going to announce during black mass tonight. But he could have talked to me about it before deciding on it, before he went ahead with it." The way Cardinal spoke about it made it sound like something serious was coming.

You and Cardinal Copia had a friendly relationship. After working together for months, you felt like he trusted you enough to discuss more personal topics.

"But wh-" He interrupts you by pressing one of his fingers on your lips, shushing you. You feel your face heating up from the touch of his gloved finger against your lips. He take a quick look at your lips before turning his gaze away. Casting him an embarrassed glance, your face warm with his contact, your lips slightly parted. Not a single word can be uttered. Also, you are pretty sure that you squeezed his arm, reacting to the light pressure of his finger.

"Don't mind about it now, cara. I think it will be better to hear it from him." Leaving your lips, he places his hand on top of yours caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Yeah..." You said almost in a whisper still being able to feel the pressure of his finger against your lips. Shaking your head, you clean your throat preparing to speak again. "By the way, Cardinal, why did you call me? What can I do for you?"

"Oh, sì, sì.” He let your hand go to get the file folder from the desk. "Sister Imperator came and gave me this just before Terzo arrived and started bothering me with his shallow talk." You giggle at the way he talks about Terzo. "She asked me to finish them before black mass, so if you're not busy this afternoon, I'd like to borrow your help."

"Of course, Cardinal!” You removed your hand from his arm and quickly made your way to your desk, hearing him clear his throat right after.

"D-Do you think w-we could see it to-together on my desk?" he stuttered. "You know, it would be more practical, and we could finish it faster if we worked together. Two heads think better than one, sì?" He gave you a nervous smile.

"Yes!" Your voice came out in a very excited tone leaning you to blush right after because of his offer. To be honest, there was no point in doing it together side by side as he suggested to you. You both could do it as you always have, but would you have refuse his suggestion?

Rolling the wheels of your chair towards his desk, you tried to avoid his gaze, hoping to hide your red cheeks. He moved his chair to the side, making room for you to place yours next to his. As you settled in, he began pulling files out of the folder. There weren't many files to review, which made you wonder once again why you both had to review them together, but you didn't want to complain.

"Eh... scusi, sorella." He said timidly, reaching over you to open a drawer beside you. His arm extended almost touching your chest and resting on your thighs while he rummaged through the drawer. You bit your bottom lip, holding your breath and keeping your body motionless. He took a glasses case out of the drawer closing it and retracted his arm to his side. You relaxed your chest and breathed out through your mouth. "The lack of light makes me need my glasses to read. Age is cruel, cara." He said reaching for the lamp on his desk, he turned it on, grabbing the glasses out of the case.

"I can imagine, Cardinal." You nod focusing on the papers in front of you. You heard a pleasant laugh coming from his shuttered lips. 

For some time, you and Cardinal remain in silence and a subtle tension seemed to linger in the air. But, you kept focusing on the papers and exchanging them with him to give it a deeper review. But when his leg touches yours, you let out an involuntary whine. You rapidly cross your legs, pressing your lips against each other.

The room fell into silence once more and the weight of the unspoken words filled the space between us. The tension remained palpable as Cardinal Copia's gaze  fell upon your lap.

"What is this?" he inquired pointing at your lap.

"What?" you followed his gaze and noticed he was staring at a part of the letter that was sticking out of your pocket. The letter was still there. You quickly put your hand inside your pocket, pushing the letter back in. "It's just something one of my siblings gave me." You said in a modulated voice, trying to hide your nervousness.

"I see..." He nodded, drawing his eyebrows together before returning his attention to the paper before him.

Internally, you cursed yourself for the slip-up, but you quickly shifted your focus to another paper, grasping it in an attempt to divert attention from the lingering tension. Glancing sideways at Cardinal Copia, you observed that he remained immersed in his task, seemingly unaffected by what he saw. You let out a sigh of relief, thinking that he might have believed your explanation.

Cardinal reaches for the lamp on his desk and turns it off. Judging by his action, black mass was almost near to start. "Are you finished with those?" he asks, looking at you as he removes his glasses.

"Almost, Cardinal. Just a few more papers to go." You reply, reading the last lines of the file and putting the pen aside. He gets up from his chair and goes straight to a hatstand in the corner of the room, getting his biretta and placing it on his head.

"How does it looks?" Lifting your head, you look at him and give him a genuine smile.

"It looks good, just..." You get up and walk towards him, closing the distance between you two. Your hands reach out for his hair, delicately brushing through the strands of his hair, smoothing them behind his ears and ensuring they fit neatly inside his biretta. The whole time, you was able to feel his gaze on you. "Now it looks better, Cardinal.” You murmured softly, your hands trailing down from his hair to his neck, then finding its place on his shoulder, eventually coming to rest upon his chest.

"G- Grazie.” You felt the erratic beats of his heart against the palm of your hand, he was still staring at you causing you to blush. "Should we be going now?" he asked, breaking the spell as he shifted his gaze towards the door. You nodded in response, retracting your hands from his chest and stepping back slightly. Cardinal Copia took the lead, making his way towards the door and holding it open for you to pass through. As you exited his office, he followed closely behind, shutting the door behind him.

As you walked side by side,  towards the chapel, you could hear the talk in the corridors, filled with siblings laughing and chatting about their excitement to see Papa today.

Almost reaching the chapel, Cardinal Copia stopped in his tracks and grabbed your hand, causing you to stop just one step away from him in an empty corridor. The touch of his hand sent a jolt of electricity through you, causing your heart to skip a beat.

"Sorella, you don't need to come with me. I'll get ready for the black mass with the clergy members." 

"Are you sure, Cardinal? The-" You turned towards Cardinal Copia, your eyes meeting his as he took a step closer, stopping in front of you, causing you to unintentionally shush. "I-I..." You swallowed your words as you felt him caressing the back of your hand with his thumb, moving his hand almost tangling his fingers with yours.

"Don't worry, sorella. I need to look for Terzo, anyway." You nodded timidly, taking the first step to walk away from him, letting go of his hand. Trying to avoid his gaze, you stumbled on his foot, his arm instinctively wrapped around your waist, providing support and preventing you from falling, you held onto his arm with both hands, allowing his grip to guide and steady you. The closeness between you both intensified. "Be careful, sorella!" Your face flushed with a deep shade of red as you felt his hand resting on your waist and the firm grip of it. He brought you closer to him making your hold on his arm tighter. "Mi dispiace, sorella. It was my fault." Cardinal said in a gentle and apologetic tone.

"It's okay, Cardinal. I-I should have been more careful." Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the mixture of emotions swirling within you. With his arm still securely around your waist, you stood there momentarily, immersed in the feeling of his touch. Slowly he let your waist go. "I'll see you at the black mass!" You said as you made your way far from him going back to the previous corridor to catch up with your friends from before.

"Look who is here!" Sister Gretta said making all of the four siblings look at your direction as you approached them with a smile growing in your face.

"Look if is not the Cardinal's favorite... sorella." Sister Olga said in a ironic tone, giving you a tight hug.

"I'm not his favorite! I just work with him." You giggled, hugging Sister Olga.

"Of course it's 'just work' when you spend the whole day in a closed office until late at night." Sister Ana said, causing you to let go of the hug with Sister Olga.

"Oh, you!. There are just a lot of boring papers to read, and it takes time to read them all, that's all."

"Do you know if maybe Papa needs an assistant too?" You heard them all laughing at Sister Victoria's question. "Stop it, girls! I mean it. Oh, I'd kill to be Papa's assistant!" She brought both of her hands to her chest.

"Yes!" Sister Jade reached for your arm, holding it. "Please, if you know something about Papa, you have to let us know.”

"But he already has an assistant!" You let out a loud laugh, looking at their curious, but confused faces. "It's Cardinal! Cardinal is his assistant. Well, actually, he is his counselor."

"Wait! What?" Jade rested her hands on her hips turning her face trying to assimilate what you've just said. You try not to laugh again, seeing them looking at each other confused by what you said.

"Well... I can't say more than I already have. But, I don't think Terzo is open to having any assistants." They all looked disappointed. "However, I do know that we need to go now to the chapel so we can see Papa. And judging by the time, we can get front row seats." With those words, there was a sudden change in their mood and they all smiled, starting to walk towards the chapel.

As you and your group of friends entered the chapel with the other siblings, they hurried their steps just to be able to sit on the first bench. The energy in the air was palpable as siblings filled the space, their voices blending into a lively hum of conversation and anticipation. The atmosphere buzzed with a sense of reverence and anticipation, as everyone prepared themselves for the forthcoming black mass. 

After some time waiting, a melody filled the chapel, causing all the siblings to hush and wait for it to start. The members of the clergy were starting to enter the chapel one by one. Your eyes were fixed on where Cardinal Copia would come from. When he entered the chapel, you quickly turned your gaze in another direction. Terzo entered right after the members, and the siblings gave him all their attention. You could swear you heard some of them sigh as if they were melting in his presence. At this moment, you couldn't take your eyes off him, not because you were also melting in his presence, but because of the clothes he was wearing - some kind of white suit with golden embroidery and... golden shoes?

As the black mass began, your gaze shifted away from Terzo's figure and went to Cardinal Copia. He looked imposing, but then his eyes started scanning the room from side to side, as if he was unable to move his head. Perhaps he was searching for someone, possibly the recipient of the letter? It was certainly a possibility. Of course, you followed his gaze, trying to find who he was looking for. Gradually, your eyes followed his path until they met his. You tried to look away, but it was too late as he was already giving you a gentle smile, almost as if he was greeting you. Great! Now that he knew you were following his gaze, he would probably stop looking around, and you would not be able to satisfy your curiosity.

The black mass was going well until now, but you couldn't help but notice Cardinal Copia's posture in his chair. A subtle discomfort seemed to emanate from him, causing a flicker of concern to surface within you. Instinctively, you recalled the knowledge that Terzo was expected to make an announcement during the black mass. Gazing at Cardinal Copia's expression, a mix of anticipation and apprehension filled his eyes. His gaze shifted intermittently between the crowd and Terzo. It was clear that the expected announcement was going to happen soon.

"Before we leave the chapel and have our dinner, I have an announcement to make," Terzo said, removing one of his gloves. Your eyes went back to Cardinal Copia, as his behavior seemed restless. Removing his other glove, Terzo raised his hand letting an engagement ring exposed. "I'm engaged." You heard gasps from the siblings and saw the alarmed expressions on their faces. Even you were a little shocked. "I know this may be a shock to most of you, but I, Terzo Emeritus, and..." He offered his hand to the bench you were sitting on, and you and your friends looked at each other confused. Then, a woman right beside you stood up and walked towards him, reaching for his hand with a big smile on her lips. “Mia cara... We decided to get married.” He kissed the back of her hand.

At this point, all the members of the clergy were already standing up, looking at Terzo and the woman, except for the Cardinal who was looking directly at you. You didn't understand why he was staring at you, but you stared back at him. His lips moved as if he wanted to convey something, but the distance rendered his words indecipherable. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, his eyes rolling back momentarily. His gaze now focused on Terzo and the woman, drawing your attention back to them. As Terzo delivered his final words, the black mass came to a conclusion. As Terzo made his way out of the chapel, the members of the clergy, one by one, followed him. The siblings got up and started talking about what had just happened. Your friends were all shocked and couldn't believe it could be real.

"So, it was true that he had someone from inside the ministry?" Sister Olga asked.

"Did you know about that?" Sister Gretta held onto your arms shaking them.

"No, I swear. I didn't know about any of this!" You assured them as you made your way out of the chapel, with them following you.

“I can’t believe the hot...” Sister Ana stopped talking, taking a deep breath. “I can’t believe the Papa really had someone this whole time.”

You were making your way with the siblings to the dining hall. They kept talking about Terzo's announcement but your mind was consumed by thoughts of Cardinal Copia, and your curiosity about who he had been searching for during the black mass lingered. You couldn't shake off the feeling of being caught in my own desires, and the embarrassment weighed heavily upon you. But hopefully, he wouldn't even think that you had bad intentions and it was just a coincidence.

As you entered the dinig hall, the aroma of food filled the air, and conversations filled the room. The siblings were animatedly discussing Terzo's relationship with his fiancé, speculating on how they had met and fallen in love. You listened to their musings, but your mind couldn't fully engage with their conversation. The presence of Cardinal Copia lingered in your thoughts, overshadowing everything else.

As dinner drew to a close, You couldn't help but notice Cardinal Copia's absence. It was unusual for him to be missing from such an important gathering. Terzo made a toast for him and his fiancé, right after it, he dismissed all the siblings present.

Making their way back to their dormitories, you found myself gazing down the long corridor towards Cardinal Copia's office. The darkness seeped from under the shut door, indicating his absence. Questions filled your mind, but you had no answers. As you started to climb the stairs, you reached for the key in your pocket and felt the letter inside, causing you to sigh in relief. At least it was still with you.

Returning to your dormitory with my friends, you took a moment to hide the letter safely beneath my pillow. Keeping it safe and sound for tomorrow. 

You sat on your bed and reflected about the crazy day you had today. All the touches and looks you and Cardinal Copia exchanged made you blush again just thinking about it. But, you came to the realization that it was better to keep your emotions in check. It was time to let go of fantasies and face the reality of the situation. The letter and its contents were meant for someone else, and you had to find contentment within the boundaries of the friendship that existed between Cardinal Copia and you.

"Oh no!" Sister Victoria exclaimed, getting up from her bed and bringing you back to reality.

"What's wrong, Victoria?" you asked, turning to face her.

"I forgot I was supposed to take our laundry to the laundry room." She said, pointing to the basket of dirty clothes.

"It's okay, Vi! I can take care of it. Don't worry." You said, getting up and walking over to the basket.

"Are you sure? I can do it tomorrow when there's no one there." She said, looking at you from her bed.

"I insist. I need to take a walk anyway." You said, picking up the basket and heading towards the door. "You can rest now. I'll take care of it." She gave you a smile and laid back in her bad.

You reached for the doorknob, balancing the basket in your arm and hugging it close to your body. When you managed to open the door, you faced Cardinal Copia, who had one arm raised as if he was about to knock on the door. The shock was evident on both of your faces as you locked eyes, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. You stumbled slightly, but managed to regain you composure and quickly shut the door behind you.

You stood there in the corridor, feeling a mix of embarrassment and surprise. Cardinal Copia was standing just a few steps away, you could sense a slight tension in the air, unsure of what to say or how to break the silence that hung between you two.

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke. "Uh... Cardinal, I was just... taking the laundry to the laundry room." Cardinal Copia wasn't wearing his normal outfit - no biretta, cassock, mozzetta, or fascia. The only thing from his normal outfit that was still on was his crucifix. You supposed you were seeing what Cardinal used to wear under his cassock - a black shirt and black pants.

He nodded, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "I can see it, sorella." He said, looking at the basket in your hands.

"Well, I volunteered to take care of it for Sister Victoria. She forgot, and I offered to help." A nervous smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you shifted the basket in your arms. "But don't worry, I can do it later. What can I do for you now, Cardinal?" you smiled at him, trying to hide your anxiety at having him right in front of you so late at night.

"That's kind of you. Always thinking of others." He paused for a moment before continuing, his voice softer. "You have a kind heart, sorella." 

The words touched you deeply, and you felt a flush of warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Thank you, Cardinal."

An uncomfortable silence filled the corridor, although there was a sense of comfort, you could feel a certain type of anxiety in Cardinal. 

"Well, I should get going. The laundry won't take care of itself." You gestured towards the laundry room.

Cardinal Copia nodded. "Of course. Don't let me keep you.. But... Eh, sorella, I have a question... And I couldn't wait until tomorrow." He took a step closer to you, causing you to take a step back and hit your back against the door. "The... The thing I saw in your pocket earlier..." His eyes bore into yours, putting one of his hands on the door, leaving it right beside your head.

Your grip on the basket loosens, causing it to slip from your hands and crash to the floor. The sound of the basket hitting the ground echoes through the corridor. Cardinal Copia's eyes briefly flicker down to the fallen basket before returning to meet your gaze.

"Was it the letter from my office?" He asked in a serious tone, almost closing the gap between your bodies, with his face close to yours breathing against your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine as he looked at your face like if he was studying every inch of your nervousness.

"I..." You find yourself momentarily lost for words, caught in the intensity of the moment. His gaze is unwavering, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for an answer. "I- I mean.... I-" Cardinal's heat was creating an intoxicating sensation with every inch of space that separates your bodies. You felt like if there was a magnetic pulling you to finally close the gap.

It was like if he felt it too, as he closed the gap between the two of you, turning his face down close to your neck, his breath tickling your ear, sending a jolt of anticipation through your body.

"Did you read it?" His voice, barely above a whisper, reach the deepest corners of your being. You could feel a heat growing inside of you.

"I... I..." The tension between you two was palpable, a delicate dance of desire and restraint. You closed your eyes, as if you were waiting for him to do something, you felt like you were close to faint.

You hear a cough coming from the stairs. "Am I interrupting something, fratello?" Your eyes instantly opened, you turn your face seeing Terzo on top of the stairs.

"No. Not at all." Cardinal manage to reply, quickly composing himself and stepping back from you.

You quickly compose yourself too, glancing down at the fallen basket, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness.

"Good Evening, Papa." You greet Terzo, offering him a polite smile, reaching down to pick up the fallen items and placing them back into the basket.

"Non puoi resistere a una sorella, sì?" Terzo laughed in a devilish tone. Cardinal Copia's expression becomes guarded, and you can sense a tension in the air between him and Terzo.

"Stai zitto, fratello." Cardinal said in a serious tone walking in Terzo's direction. Terzo gave him his back starting to walking down the stairs. "Tomorrow, I want to see you early in the morning in my office so we can finish this talk, sì?" Cardinal Copia adds, his gaze briefly meeting yours before following Terzo downstairs.

As they walk away, leaving you standing alone in the corridor, you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. The encounter with Cardinal Copia has left you feeling both exhilarated and uncertain. Tomorrow's meeting in Cardinal's office loomed over you. You would need to summon all your courage, drawing strength from within, to face Cardinal Copia.

Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Grammar ⸻

Perché cazzo non me l’hai detto? - Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Fratello! Sai che io sono il Papa! - Brother! You know that I’m the Papa! Non dire stronzate! - Don’t talk nonsense! Mi dispiace - I’m sorry Prego, sorellina - You’re welcome, little sister Fratellino - Litlle brother. Posso capire perché mio fratello ha scelto te. - I can see why my brother chose you. Cazzo! - Fuck! Scusi, sorella. - Excuse me, sister. Mi dispiace, sorella - I’m sorry, sister. Cara - Dear Mia cara - My dear Non puoi resistere a una sorella, sì? - You can't resist a sister, right? Stay Zitto, fratello - Shut up, brother.

[imraespace]

LIFE'S HARD WHEN YOU'RE INLOVE ─

─ WITH RIN ITOSHI !!

Lunchtime rolled around and as of right now, you stared out of the window beside your desk to witness the practicing that's happening in the field.

Based off your knowledge and literally being friends with those on the football team, there's a big game that's going to happen on Friday so for most of the break times they get, it's in the field they go to. For some reason, your daily view out the window was just simple. You look at your friends and secretly cheer them on but today your eyes moved on their own and for some reason, they're not focusing on your friends.

The eyes you own seem to have a will of its own as of right now it's staring at the same boy your eyes landed on this morning. Why was he so.. capturing..?

Your train of thought broke when you realized that their practice had come to an end. Should you be a good friend and buy them something to cool off or.. stay here and sit down! Choices..

"I'm too lazy to move right now.." You mumbled, beginning the process of resting your head on the table. Yet that couldn't have been done because some rat of a student chose you to collect some test papers for a teacher.

So much for wasting your thoughts earlier..

After moaning, groaning, and cursing the world, you finally began walking down the hall to waste your energy for some lazy teacher, like grow some legs or something. Another eye roll was done by you.

In your mini tantrum process, you huffed and puffed and turned your head in the direction of your favorite vending machine. Okay, maybe this walk wasn't so bad.

Completely forgetting about your task at hand, you took a complete U-turn and made your way to the machine for some juice to cool down your mind and sweeten your mood. But! Before you could complete your walk your silly eyes landed on the same boy. Isn't practice over..? Why is he still there..

It then hits you that maybe this sport is very much important to them? Your face began to grow a bit soft, funny things popped up in your mind and oddly enough, you found yourself holding not one bottle but two in your hand. One is your juice, Minute Maid to be exact, and the other is just a simple water bottle.

"Hey girl! What are you doing!?" That's the thoughts that is currently flying through your mind right now. Why are you doing such silly acts like this one.. Then you stopped and remembered something. You looked at the water bottle and then back outside and made a run for it into your classroom.

Yoichi and Meguru weren't in here, which was good. No one was in the classroom actually, they were all in the lunchroom, leaving you to yourself as you wrote a little something.

Now here you are, peaking around the wall, holding onto that water bottle and note. You noticed that he was too much into his zone to realize that there's a creepy girl staring at him from afar with water in her hand. He should be more self-aware but you're quite happy he isn't.

So here is Y/N, simply placing down the bottle of water and note and quietly erm, more like sprinting away. You didn't look back, you just ran further away.

Atleast you got your juice.

.

.

.

The boy noticed that the lunch was almost over, he scowled at the idea of stopping his practice yet did it anyways. He made his way towards a bench and noticed a water bottle..?

"What the fuck.." He mumbled to himself as he read the note.

Rin rose his eyebrows with full on confusion as he read the words:

‟ Remember to drink your water when you're practicing hard.

╶Isagi. ฅ^._.^ฅ „

.

.

.

At the end of classes that day, you wondered if you gave yourself away. Of course, you forgot to NOT draw your signature touch of a cat at the end of silly notes.

But hey, he won't know it's Seishiro for sure! Seishiro adds (• × •).

Silly besties.

━ 7:32 PM

When you had switched off your device, your eyes landed on the book that laid on your bedside table. The waves of sleep hit you slowly, thinking about the conversation.

You weren't in love, which is good on your side but..

"Thoughts cannot formulate anymore.."

You thought of those words from the book. What had happened at lunchtime wasn't at your own will. It wasn't your thoughts, actually, you weren't even thinking, you just moved on your own.

You did some crazy things. At least from your knowledge, love doesn't make you do some crazy things.. Right?

So why did you do what you did today..?

Thoughts were too much, you fell asleep. At 8:01 PM.

.

.

.

Reo Mikage, a friend, someone who's indeed close with you. May have some fights here and there. Right now, tonight is his turn to check up on yourself. Why? Because of a habit you have of falling asleep with a mess on your bed yet today it's oddly clean..

Reo face lit up as he realized that there's nothing for him to fix. A small frown rested on his face as he walked up to your bedside table and turned off your lamp. He left your room with a small shut of the door.

Even though you three may be the same age, but birthday wise you were the youngest and the boys took it upon themselves to take care of you in simple ways like this. Tomorrow is Seishiro's turn, maybe he will have a mess to clean up..

Does it seem childish? Maybe.. But for some reason, it felt as if you grew up with this.

## LIFE'S HARD WHEN YOU'RE INLOVE. --

╴“ WITH RIN ITOSHI?? „

ฅ^._.^ฅ : some things about y/n !! she mostly sleeps through the day, only does stuff IF needed !! with her given gift of being effortlessly smart , all she does in her free time is : nap , eat , sleep. hmm what if.. one day y/n develops a crush and now has to ACTUALLY work to achieve a goal ? : date rin itoshi !!

3 // 5 note: HA weirdo!

TAGLIST!!: @deezy12299 @kuroronana @khoiyyu (OPEN)

-`♥︎´- for this story, i'm trying a something new, which includes words/phrases, foods and hometowns from japan and germany. if there's any errors please point it out !

-`♥︎´- word count : 981

[dianneking]

Happy Birthday, Blondie - Larissa/Melissa

Hello hello! For the first week of Back on The Writing Horse (you can find the original post and masterlist here) I am using prompt 2553 by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor

"Are you going to just spend the day alone?"

"That's what I do most days. It doesn't make a difference to me."

Thank you to @scream-queenlover for picking that prompt out for me and making this lovely cover art to go with the fic, as well as the closing one.

Fandom: Wednesday (2022) and Abott Elementary Characters: Larissa Weems / Melissa Schemmenti Tags: Friendly banter, Dare I say it's fluff? (it's fluff), Food, Mentions of skipping meals. Words: 1497

Happy Birthday, Blondie (link to AO3)

…Kind regards

Larissa Weems, principal of Nevermore Academy.

Larissa sighed in relief after clicking the send button on the latest email. Today had been quite the whirlwind of phone calls, emails and meetings, and it was still only lunchtime, who knew what the afternoon would entail. She closed her eyes, massaging her temples to try and stave off the tension headache she was starting to feel building up. She loved her job, and she loved Nevermore, but there was just something about this sort of days that really took a lot out of her.

The door to her study chose that moment to slam open, noisily hitting the cabinet at the end of its run. “Well, if it isn’t our principal caught dozing off at work!”

There was only one person in Nevermore who had the guts to barge into Larissa’s office unannounced and insult her work ethic at the same time. Larissa refused to give her the satisfaction of opening her eyes.

“What is it, Melissa?”

“Oi! At least look at me when you sigh my name. That’s a privilege not many people have, if you usurp it, I’ll have you move back to using Miss Schemmenti.”

“And we wouldn’t want that.” Larissa deadpanned. But she did crack open her eyes. The fiery head of her coworker was almost too bright in the sunlight that streamed in from the tall windows of her office.

“For sure not today of all days!” The smug grin on Melissa’s face told Larissa that the redhead knew she had won this round. Damn it.

“And what’s so special about today?” Asked Larissa petulantly.

“Are ya kidding me, Blondie?” Melissa looked at her as if she expected some sort of trick from her. Or a smart remark. That was their thing after all. A constant banter, prodding at each other trying to find the right button to push to make the other concede a point in their match of wits.

Larissa liked that. She had been too used to people in awe of her, or too scared of her power (both the political one and the actual shapeshifting) to pose much of a challenge for her. When Melissa joined Nevermore, Larissa had at first balked at what she had perceived as blatant disrespect from the latest addition to staff. But after a while a sort of understanding had formed between the two women, a sort of mutual recognition of kindred spirits (aided by a couple of heart-to-hearts brought along by copious amounts of wine, but they didn’t talk about those too much).

Melissa must have read that she was still missing the point, because she lifted her eyes to the ceiling, as if to ask the heavens to grant her patience, and strode forward to place a cafeteria tray on Larissa’s desk. Larissa blinked at the plates: on one, a heaping portion of lasagna that looked way too good to be standard Nevermore fare, and on the second, bigger plate, a whole chocolate cake, complete with a dripping layer of decadent ganache and a wonky writing that recited: Are you a natural blonde or did you dye for attention?

Larissa tried to avoid drooling at the sight, while her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had skipped breakfast, again, this morning.

“Happy birthday, Blondie.”

Oh. Was it today? Larissa could’ve sworn today was still Thursday and her birthday wasn’t until…

…her eyes fell on the stylish calendar perched on the side of her desk.

Friday, February 16th.

Whoops.

“You can’t be serious. You had to check the calendar to be sure it was your birthday?”

“No!” Larissa lied quickly. “I just hmm…I wanted to check something, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure, whatever makes you sleep at night. Eat up, you don’t want my lasagna to get cold.”

Larissa picked up the fork. That was Melissa’s cooking. That’s why it looked – and smelled! – so absolutely divine.

“Thank you by the way, you didn’t have to.”

“Oh please. We both know that you skip more lunches than the ones you actually eat. At least on your birthday you should enjoy some good cooking.”

Larissa dipped her fork into the lasagna, inclining it sideways to slice a bite off of it and scooping it up to bring it to her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss as she chewed. It was an explosion of flavors and textures, perfectly balanced and delicious in every aspect. The fullness of the meat, the tangy and yet sweet tomato sauce, the sheets of pasta cooked to perfection, all enveloped by the smooth embrace of the bechamel sauce…it wasn’t just a lasagna, it was a masterpiece.

“Wow.” Was the only word that she could form before she dove back in.

She heard Melissa’s throaty chuckle, and knew without raising her eyes that there was another self-satisfied smile adorning her lips. Well, Larissa could allow her this one. The lasagna was really something else.

They sat in silence for some time while Larissa ate, Melissa having slouched in one of the armchairs in front of Larissa’s desk, as perfectly at ease as if she was in her own living room, before the redhead spoke conversationally.

“You know, I am glad I dropped by at lunch break, so I managed to remind you in time to get ready for whatever you have planned tonight. Not attending your own birthday party would be kinda lame.”

Larissa took her time swallowing the bite before she replied.

“Oh, that’s kind of you, but I don’t have anything planned for tonight. Just a quiet evening in, you know?” Actually, the more this conversation went on, the more Larissa was looking forward to curling up on her couch with a bottle of wine and some good music. Maybe read a bit, too? She almost didn’t remember the plot to the novel she was reading, so long it had been since she last had time to open it. Was that lame? She had just turned 46, she was allowed to wallow a bit and not go out and celebrate if she didn’t feel like it. Right?

“Oh come on. You’re not gonna spend your birthday evening here in your office, are you?”

“Why not? It’s a very nice study, I spent years decorating it just like I want to.”

“Yeah of course. I mean what’s a better birthday companion than a stuffed raven, after all? But seriously, Larissa,” Melissa’s tone turned serious, and the fact that she used her first name instead of a ridiculous nickname signaled that this was not a question Larissa could brush off flippantly, “are you really going to just spend the day alone?"

"That's what I do most days. It doesn't make a difference to me." Larissa shrugged, cleaning the last bit of lasagna sauce off the plate with the side of her fork. She had never been a huge fan of birthdays anyway.

“Absolutely not! I will not allow that.”

“I…beg your pardon?”

“You may beg all you want but you won’t get out of this. Be all ready and dolled up at six this evening. I might not have as many resources here in Vermont but the ex-husband of my second cousin owns the most disreputable dive bar in Williston. We’re going.”

“Melissa, there’s no need to…”

“No no. You misunderstand. This was not a question. You’ll be coming with me to party on your birthday night whether you like it or not, Miss Weems. And you’ll have the time of your life doing so.”

Larissa met her eyes, her bright green eyes looking up at Larissa as if challenging her to disagree, and all it did was make a lovely warmth spread in the taller woman’s chest. She shook her head, an exasperated smile climbing to her lips. 

“Alright, alright, you stubborn woman. You win. We’ll go celebrate my old age at your shady bar. But you’re offering the first round.”

“Ha! As if I’d let the birthday lady pay for her own drinks! I’ll have you know that my nonna raised me properly!”

They made eye contact across the desk, blue meeting green with an intensity that was new and warm and exciting. Larissa tried to convey in that gaze how much Melissa’s actions meant to her. Not just the cake and the birthday wishes. Hell, not even the invite to go out together. It was the fact that Melissa was there for Larissa in a way nobody had been in a very long time.

“Thank you, Melissa.” She said, frustrated at herself for being unable to say more, and yet charging those two simple words with all those untold things.

She was able to see the blush crawling up the other woman’s cheeks at her gratitude, and couldn’t help but think how adorable it made Melissa look. Clearly embarrassed, the redhead ran a hand through her locks and spoke in a gruff voice.

“So are you just gonna stare or are you gonna try the cake?”

The End

For anyone wondering, this is loosely in the same universe as my other Larissa/Melissa fic, New Teacher In Town. You can find more of my fics in my masterlist

Next fic in the challenge >

[nocompromise-noregrets]

five good things

Because I still have a cold and I'm feeling sorry for myself, so let's see if I can cheer myself up...

It's not Covid, at least! I did a test earlier and it was nicely and solidly negative.

Two more days at work and then I'm off for two and a half whole weeks! I'm taking Wednesday as a flex day because I've built up a lot of flex time and I could do with an extra day for packing/hair dyeing/sorting myself out/etc etc etc, and then Thursday I have my coach up to London, crashing at a hotel near Heathrow overnight and then flight at stupid o'clock on Friday morning - I shall be in Helsinki by lunchtime, YAY.

Japa's band have cancelled their show next Saturday, boo (and hadn't announced that it was cancelled - I only found out because I was checking the FB page for the bar where it was supposedly happening and they suddenly had a different event on for that night, so I commented on the original show announcement to ask, and no, it's cancelled, next show is on 8 November, by which point I shall be at home) - but I still have two shows to go to, Japa's old band on the second Saturday, and Michael Monroe my absolute HERO on the second Friday so that's still good!

I have my itinerarerarerarery well and truly sorted - I have an app and also a very colour-coded spreadsheet (I am indebted to @wauryd for the revelation some ten-odd years ago (HOW LONG?) that one can colour-code one's spreadsheets) to help me work out what's open when and what to go to on each day, and I also have a Museokortti (museum card) which cost me about €70 but will get me in to pretty much every museum and gallery in Finland for free and will probably save me about €300 for the amount of places I'm planning to go to (50-odd over the eleven days XDDD )

I have finished (npi) the Finnish course on Duolingo - only two sections and nowhere near enough language, but along with the previous bits of learning-Finnish I've done, I could probably now do more than order a beer and a coffee and apologise for being English XD but we'll see how I get on. At least I should be able to understand a bit more, even if I don't actually manage to be brave enough to actually speak. And I've really rather enjoyed it. The funny phrases and cultural references (there is a woman in the song who is running up that hill, the grey wizard is walking in the forest etc) have really ticked the old intertextuality boxes, and I wish there was more! Might have to go back to Danish or Czech next, or maybe pick up something new!

@mihrsuri and I have been pinging ideas back and forth again, this time in a Rings of Power AU in which Sauron captured Galadriel and Elrond as well as Celebrimbor, but they eventually managed to escape; so far it's been the twins who've been talking and I love them so much, they're always so delightfully feral. :D I so enjoy this sort of writing, I used to do it so much with friends last time I was in the fandom and I've missed it enormously. Lil I wish we lived closer so we could go sit by a river or somewhere and just talk it all out in person!

It's @sigrielweek! I have been spectacularly bad at posting the last couple of days, thanks to the cold of doom and destruction, but I am so enjoying collaborating with @thatonetimetraveller and other people are posting too (thank you so much @verecunda and @myeaglesong and @unendingwanderlust!) and our tiny little liferaft of a ship is getting more content and I am DELIGHTED for our girls! <333333

My new OU course has begun and so far I'm really enjoying it! It's definitely harder than what I've done before, but in a fairly-easy-step-up sort of a way, and it's introducing us to external academic writing in a way that the previous courses didn't, and there is some fascinating stuff going on out there. So far I've been meaning to read more about the history of women in linguistics, and a few other things - haven't quite had the brainspace yet, but I'm about five weeks ahead with the course (gained access to it in mid-September and got started straight away, although it only began officially last Saturday, because I knew I was going to have to take two weeks out) so I've got time. Also my favourite person from the English Grammar course two years ago is on the course and in my tutor group and I'm so looking forward to his contributions - he's the sort of person who asks the really interesting questions and gets the complicated stuff explained, and he also draws the most adorable cartoons to help him (and us!) get his head round the points that are being made, featuring two lions called Lexis and Rexis and a whole load of dad jokes, and I absolutely love them. I hailed him in the forum when we were all introducing ourselves and he came back with a Lexis and Rexis cartoon and I just instantly felt at home again. :D

Aaaaaaand it is just over two weeks until I finally FINALLY meet @lemurious IRL and I cannot wait! So much nerdery and squeeing awaits!

Oh yeah, and someone very lovely is working their way through Empty Vessel at the moment and leaving lots of awesome comments :D :D :D I am hoping to have the spoons this weekend to have a proper comment-answering spree ( @seagull-energy I have been wanting to respond to your lovely comments on the TRSB fic for ages at this point and the mental energy keeps eluding me >.< but thank you SO MUCH! <3333333 )

Oh yeah and I have been bonding with lovely James at t'pub (one of the bar staff) over Rings of Power, and persuading equally lovely Amelie (another of the bar staff) that she needs to watch it - James and I have basically been tag-teaming her XD and she also hasn't watched the films (I think she maybe wasn't born when Fellowship came out, but then again neither was James XD ) so we're thinking that it would be super interesting if she started with the series, to see how different an experience it might be...anyway it is a joy to have someone to flail with IRL! I miss lovely Tom (also bar staff at t'pub) who has moved on, who I used to flail with about series 1, but James is just as keen and it is just as much of a joy :D :D :D

Right then. I think that will do. Time to sink back into the plague pit. XD

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 2

read part 1 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: light angst, mention of drugs/alcohol

a/n: hey, thanks for all the love on the last part! i promise I'm not churning these out like crazy lol, i wrote the first chapter way before posting it here. not a lot of ethan in this one because we have to flesh out the lore, but i make up for it with some tara/sam angst! yippee!

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“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it.” Chad’s eyes are wide with amazement. “Y/N, at a loss for words? Because of a guy?”

“Dude, I’m telling you, it happened!” Tara said.

I was beginning to get tired of this back and forth. 

Friday nights were usually fun, the whole gang gathered in Tara’s room, getting ready for the night’s festivities (in this case, a house party at the Woodsboro Community College), but today, my friends seemed more interested in rehashing today’s lunchtime events.

“Do you know what his name was?” Anika asks.

“Oh god, please don’t egg them on,” I groan. “No, I didn’t catch it.”

“Hey, he didn’t throw it, either,” Tara teases. “He was probably just as nervous. The dude could barely even make eye contact with her.”

Chad sits up on Tara’s bed. “What did you say he looked like?”

“Uh, tall, really tall. Curly brown hair? He was new, I’d never seen him before. And neither had Tara, so don’t chalk it up to my being a newcomer.”

“Wait. Oh my god.” Mindy suddenly chimes in. “I know who he is. His name is Ethan Landry, he’s in my American History.”

I can’t lie; I’m excited by this. “Really? Why haven’t we seen him before?”

“Because he just moved here.” She grins. “Hey, I thought you’d given up on high school boys, anyway.”

I tinge pink. “Never say never, I guess?”

Chad and Tara whoop. Anika rolls her eyes at them. “Do you think he’ll be there tonight?”

I scoff. “I doubt it. We already have to lie about being college students to get in, anyway.”

Tara’s eyes glimmer. “Hey, you never know. That means you have to get extra dressed up for tonight, just in case he’s there.”

I am not prepared for one of Tara’s evil-genius machinations, especially not a makeover. But I entertain the fantasy for a second too long, and she takes my silence as agreement. 

That’s how I find myself in one of Tara’s old dresses, a strappy black thing that hangs too low on my chest for my liking. After fighting over it for a long while, she eventually agrees to add a long-sleeved top underneath, if only to stop my whining.

Yet even though my getting-ready process was the most involved, I’m still the first one downstairs, which is typical. I’m debating whether or not to run for the hills and go home when Sam comes through the front door.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Is Tara upstairs?” She sets down a few bags of groceries and turns to lock the four deadbolts freshly nailed to the door. 

“Hey, Sam. Yeah, she is. I think everyone will be down soon.”

There’s an uncomfortable energy between us. Sam has never liked me much. Not because of my character or anything, as Tara has reassured me, but she’s overly wary of outsiders ever since last year’s attack. I try not to blame her, but I can’t help but feel a little hurt when she keeps her distance, giving me a once-over instead of asking about my day.

The tension is broken when I hear the rest of the gang come down the stairs. Sam smiles when she sees Tara, but it fades when she notices that we’re all dressed up. “Hey, Tar, where are you guys going tonight?”

Tara shifts her weight from foot to foot. “My friend at Woodsboro Community College offered us an in, so… we’re taking advantage of our youth?”

Sam’s face darkens. “No. No way, Tar. You remember the last time someone had a party around here? We nearly died.”

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” Tara groans. “You were out of my life for five years now you can’t let me be alone for five minutes..”

I look at Chad, uncomfortable. He slightly shakes his head at me– better not to interfere.. Still, I feel like I have to say something. “Hey, Tara, maybe she’s right, we could just–”

Tara whips around to glare at me. “You’ve got to be kidding, Y/N. Butt the fuck out.” Her words sting, but I step back and sit on the couch.

“I’m not interested in living in the fucking past, Sam,” she continues. “I’m not gonna let what happened to me for three days define me for the rest of my life.”

Sam is quiet. I expect her to snap, to yell at all of us, but she just stares at Tara for a few seconds.

Finally, she picks up her bag again. “Alright. Fine. Go to the party, bring your taser, or not, I don’t care. I won’t be here when you get back.”

Tara’s eyes widen. “Wait, Sam. Wait. I’m sorry, I–”

“No, it’s really fine.” She glances around the room, where the rest of us are trying to blend into the shadows. “I hope you guys have fun. If some psycho killer tries to get you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With that, she marches upstairs, and I hear her bedroom door slam and lock. 

No one knows what to say. Tara turns her back, and I see her wiping away angry tears. Without looking at us, she opens the front door. “Okay! Who’s ready?”

“Tara, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Anika says. “We can stay back if you want, I mean–”

“Nope! What I want is to get so shit-faced I don’t remember this conversation. Let’s go.”

My stomach still feels hollow, but I silently follow Tara out of the door. Anika and Mindy follow close behind. 

Chad takes a second before making up his mind. He grabs his keys. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go, then.”