#i definitely did not mean to spend over 4 hours on this

[orbi29]

a little thing i drew

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (1/?)

masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse, rating may change with every update.)

“Ito Saya, reporting in for your daily broadcast. In a noteworthy shift, Omegas are increasingly finding more employment opportunities in positions of power. With a positive trend towards reduced oppression of—“

You’re averse to this sort of thing. A folly, something you can barely care about as your eyes squint at big words floating around the screen, a pretty lady holding papers and looking all serious and… Boring. TV shows are supposed to be fun, supposed to be playing that anime you had been waiting all week to see, supposed to be… Interesting so that you can feel less alone.

You definitely don’t want some silly lady on the screen talking about— Those things that you can barely understand. Why do they always talk so much? A picture could probably end their entire long spiels in seconds.

Your nose scrunches, your fingers cupping your chin like those TV characters did when they were thinking really hard. So why don’t they just use pictures? They’re more colourful and tell you stuff faster, won’t they? It’s not your fault that the TV station people are always so inefficient.

(It’s the television’s fault isn’t it? Definitely, right? Mama always did tell you it was a little old.)

Or maybe it’s because you don’t know a lot of things.

You’re 4, staring up at the glowing screen of your all too old television, sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor in this wide, wide room that was a little too empty for your liking. Your nose picks up on the scent of coffee, ears barely picking up on a clink of porcelain against a cheap wooden coaster. Mama circles things in newspapers, the gliding of her red marker against the sheet attracting your attention to the focused look in her eyes, the furrow of her brows, the way she just held that pen so elegantly…

(Your Mama is so much prettier than the lady on the TV.)

You like it when she’s focused like that, so serious-looking! This must be the pinnacle of a hard worker. Brains… And beety? Or whatever you heard some other old man on the TV used to cheer about.

So you decide you don’t wanna watch anymore, Getting up onto your small feet and barely catching yourself before you topple over, toddling over to your Mama with socks padding against the wooden floors.

You’re soon taking decisive peeks at your all too focused mother, watching over her shoulder in silence to let her focus. There should be a reason why she’s so serious, right?

Maybe it’s something fun? Something exciting? That’s why she’s so focused on it— right?

“J…Ob list…ings open…” Your eyes are narrowed, licking over your lips to wet them as you take another deep breath in. “Mini—um, ex-peer-i-sense?”

You can see the red marker coming to a halt, her sweet chuckle perhaps to humor you, to acknowledge your attempt. Patting your head when she turns her head around, and a smile upon her face as she smooths over the fabric of her skirt, as you feel yourself being lifted and plopped gently into the warm confines of her lap.

“That was a nice try, sweetie.” Her eyes meet yours when you take the decisive move to lean back, a ruffle of your hair and your quiet giggle as the short relief of her attention leaves you, though not without sating your curiosity. “Mama’s looking for a job.”

You know what that is. It’s for adults to make money, disappear for hours in a day and only come back super, super late at night.

(You think your father had one. Or… Did he really?)

And it means they spend all that time in a place nowhere close to their home or cute, adorable, obedient daughters either.

“Does that mean you can’t stay home with me anymore, Mama?” You’re still leaning back into her chest, staring up at her chin from your position as you bring yourself impossibly closer to her, the calm smell of vanilla and honey in your nostrils making you all warm and fuzzy, calm and happy.

(You always liked it when she smelled like this.)

“Maybe, sweetie.” She pulls away briefly to tap the end of the marker against your nose. “But Mama will be able to buy you more delicious food,” She pauses to smile so sweetly down at you, a pinch to your cheek. “And finally get you some toys.”

Toys. You realize that you don’t have any toys. At least— You couldn’t bring any of your toys with you when your mother had so urgently scooped you up into her arms in the dead of the night, a luggage rolling behind her as your nose picks up on an urgent, intruding scent of sour milk and rotting flowers, your senses spiked with uncertainty and fear as you soundlessly drink in the last sight of your old home for those few seconds before the darkness ate it all away.

You remember boarding 1 train, 2 trains, 3 trains… You lost count after that. Only simply remembering getting pulled along, Mama’s soft whispering and cooing promises that this is for the best, that your Papa won’t be able to follow you here, that you’ll be happier than ever. You remember her scent, less rigid, less frightened but still steeped in misplaced excitement. Like a fragrant scent of calm that beckoned you to follow and imitate.

You remember living in small apartments, tiny, squeezy and virtually no space. You remember how sickly, horridly sweet Mama’s scent was, caked in perfume when she rushes out every night for her job at the local izakaya. Her uniform always a little messed up in her haste before she leaves your dinner usually already in your hands as you slurp on ramen or eat another scoop of curry rice.

She would pat your head as you offer her a bite, giving you a smile before she tells you to be good, several locks clicking into place when she closes the door behind her.

It wasn’t much, wasn’t the most fun you’ve ever had in your life, but it was comfortable. You were happy with that simple life with her. But one day, you heard jangling at the front door, you hear hurried, panicked movements, smell sour fear despite the thick odour of perfume as your Mama hurriedly slams the door shut behind her, cold sweat on her as she hugs you close, buries her face into your hair.

You don’t like it when she’s like this.

You remember a man with a scent so different from your father come knocking at your door for weeks on end, gradually changing from slow knocks to furious banging on the metal with a rough pleads begging that he won’t hurt your mother, that she was beautiful, the she was—

That’s how you ended up here now. It’s been at least a year since then. And only about a month since you moved in.

(You think. You’re not really good at telling time yet.)

“Mama, I don’t need toys.” It’s not like you don’t want them, you just don’t need them. A lesson taught to you by more pretty ladies on the TV screen, you’ve also stopped by many a toy store only to see too many zeroes on price tags, and it’s been steeled in your mind that you just don’t need them. Not when you have Mama to play together with now that she’s smiling so much more.

So you’re adamant on not wanting any.

“Is that so, darling?” You feel a mindless pinch to your cheek as she circles another paragraph of words. “Then how are you going to keep yourself from getting bored when I’m not around?”

Now that has you in a slight dilemma, your hands freezing in place from where they had been twirling with her hair. You blink once, and again when you quietly see her marker tap against the paper, as if awaiting your thoughts as your eyes start to dart all over the room.

(She makes really good points. Too good. As expected of your Mama.)

The television? No. Mama would tell you too much is bad for your eyes. The pillows you both use for your futons? No. You’ll probably dirty it and make more work for her. Your eyes silently trail over to the window, sun shining through the panes and onto the floor as a glowing thought arises.

“I can just play outside.”

——

Be careful what you wish for, as they say.

An amused chuckle from Mama as she pushes you towards the door, nimble fingers excitedly doing up the straps of your old sandals and arming you with a couple of handmade cookies, a pat on your head and parting words of;

“Don’t wander anywhere past the playground, don’t follow anyone strange, be back by sunset and make some friends.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that you’ll go play outside.

“Honey, I know it’s only been so long since we’ve moved here.” She’s clears her throat, a cloth being gently rubbed against your face to help get rid of any stray rice grains. “But,” She sucks in a breath, a rise and fall of her chest as you blink at her.

“Have you…” She has to take another breath in. Does she have breathing problems—

“Made any friends yet?”

Oh.

The answer is no. Your go-to counter being, ‘I don’t go outside, so how can I make any?’ as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as you give her a smile.

(This isn’t something you’re meant to be proud of.)

And all she’ll give you is winced smile, ruffling your hair and saying that there was no rush. That you’ll get your chance. That you’re the sweetest kid there was. That she has faith in you and wants you to work hard!

But it’s not like it’s as easy as your capable mother makes it sound, and not like you wanted to be out here, anyway. You think the sun is too hot, that there aren’t enough clouds, that the wind isn’t picking up enough, the cicadas are too loud, that you need water—

And that you need to stop complaining so much.

You’re kicking at the path, a long stick in your hands poking at the ground beneath you, cookies pinched between your fingers as you wander and wonder. You can make friends. Surely, you can. That’s what the the cookies are for, right?

Other kids your age should love cookies. You sure do, and you’re Mama’s number 1 fan when it comes to her baking.

(Or her… Anything, really.)

So… You know her inside out, you swear you do. You love her, she loves you, she makes good food and she wants you to make friends, come back with no cookies and a new bond forged.

(Anyone would do, right?)

But you don’t see any kids, the playground you just arrived at deserted and empty. It looks sleek, almost as if it were brand new. Dark wood and galvanized steel, it was so… Clean. So untouched. Yet nobody was here? Your shoulders slump forwards in mild disappointment, yet your heart thrills at the thought of being able to have the whole place to yourself. Alone.

Well, choosers can’t be beggars… Or was it the other way around? Either way, it’s not like Mama would know if you ate them both yourself.

——

So you find yourself sat down comfortably within the top of the little hut housing the slide, your feet splayed out in front of you as you prepare to take a bite. You feel the straps of your sandals relax against your feet, a slight breeze picking up despite the shade you had hidden under. Perfect. This was perfect—

“Are those cookies?”

You can feel your shoulders jump in shock, fear pulling at your heartstrings and a startle nearly making you drop your precious dessert. So much for a peaceful time. You have to physically lurch yourself back before any harm was done to your food. Just who do they think they are? To just come up to you and—

A flurry of white snow and icicles of frost. But you’re pretty sure the summer heat is still beating down, the cicadas are still singing, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. Yet the one before you defies all of that. He had an aura about him, a commanding curiosity. And he does definitely—

“Look weird.”

His eyes widen for just that fraction of a second, before he furrows his brows, the long sleeves of the firefly kimono swaying when he crosses his arms in rebuttal.

“You’re weirder.”

You blink maybe twice. Once in surprise, and the other to really blink back into reality. He must’ve heard your thoughts.

“I didn’t. Ya just said it out loud, weirdo.”

Oh. You have to say your sorries, then. Mama didn’t raise you to be rude.

“This is my playground.” Your eyes catch a glimmer of the wara zori his feet donned. They were too neat, too well put together. “Nobody else is allowed in.” His tone sounds so proper, his pronunciation so abnormally clear, especially for someone who looks your age.

“Oh.” You didn’t know that. Though to be fair, you don’t know a lot of things. “Sorry. I didn’t know playgrounds can be owned…”

“That’s only for poor people.” You hear the tap of his shoes against pressure treated wood. “If more people were like me, they’d have their own playgrounds too.”

“Oh. Sorry then.” You really are. You just thought playgrounds were a place for every kid… 

“S’that all you can say?” You can see the shine of iridescent blue, making use of his standing height to belittle and threaten your sitting position. He makes himself look big, makes the glimmer in his eye turn into one of malice and impatience. It twists his features, turns them into something rugged and rough and uncomfortable.

And you think it’s such a waste of the cute face he has.

“Sorry.” To his Mama who gave him such a nice looking profile, and to him, you guess. You don’t really know if you should be apologizing, don’t really know if what you’re doing is right.

(But apologising has always worked. It felt right to you.)

And you think he’s satisfied now.

He harrumphs, unfolding his hands. “Some old lady put me on a sweets ban.” He settles down next to you, pushing you aside to make space for himself as he plops down, and you notice the shifting of the pretty blue fabric he donned matching perfectly with the crystal blue of his eyes. You notice the print quality being one so clear and vivid, despite the simple design. That’s a really nice kimono. “So I can’t eat anymore for the rest of the month.”

(He really is cute.)

“But since you’re trespassing on my playground,” He holds a dainty, porcelain hand out, a small twitch of his fingers that itch for your compliance. “I’m charging you cookies for it.” He’s smiling now. A proud, smug grin with the upturn of his eyes into crescents.

”It’s okay for me to eat ‘em cause it’s tax.”

He’s kind of irritating, but… Anyone would do, right?

You swallow the lump you weren’t aware of in your throat, the sweat that you didn’t know that was starting to form on your hand. You think you have an idea. A good one, at that.

“Okay,” You produce the other packaging. “But you have to promise to be my friend.”

Now it’s his turn to blink at you in utter confusion.

“Are you—“ His eyebrows furrow deeper than before, his smile dissipating into this confused frown. His eyes scrutinize and watch you closely, as if he was scouring your every breath, your every movement to uncover something that just wasn’t there.

“Being serious?”

Why… Wouldn’t you be? The way you just blink back at him, waiting on him to continue only to be met with glaring silence… Is there something on your face? Is there a bug you didn’t see crawling in your hair?

Or maybe he just wants the cookie.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your hand is warm as they grip his wrist, gently dropping the wrinkled plastic onto his hand with a tilt of your head and eyes that flick up to meet his. It’s innocent, genuine, even. Frightfully so. The way you smile with nothing else, the way your intent was shown upon your very sleeve.

Nothing. He garners absolutely nothing from you. Your hands feel too warm, the chocolate chips within the cookie already look like they were melting, sweat is starting to stick your hair to your skin— And he thinks it doesn’t get anymore real than this.

“Okay.”

Oh, good. He agreed. You have a friend now, and it makes your heart squeeze with just that bit of excitement, of joy. It felt like you were swinging too high off the ground, felt like you were going to be swept off your feet.

It felt good. Maybe you should make more friends.

“Do the thing with me.” His pinky is held out, pushed into your face. “Ya gotta promise me something too. That’s how promises work.”

Is that how it works? You didn’t know that either.

“Yeah.” It isn’t. “That’s how it works here, you dunno that cause you’re new.”

Well… Okay then. “What’s the promise?”

You see his lips curl up, his eyes sparkling with something unknown as you begin to stick your own pinky out. “You’re already my friend, right?”

You nod.

“Good.” There’s a smugness to his face now. “So you can’t be friends with other kids from this neighbourhood. That’s betrayal to me.”

You catch a whiff of something spicy, hot. As if it were burning you to the very edges of your body— Before it disappears completely, as if it were never there. He makes sense, to you at least, and it sounds… Fair enough, you guess.

Your pinky wraps tight around his, in spite of how foreboding and suffocating his hold feels. Your nose picks up on the scent of fabric cleaner, the scent of summer weighing heavy on your nose in this moment. You see blue and white, see oranges and pink light starting to envelop his hand from where the sun had begun to set, making his hand glow as your promise becomes sealed in this very moment forward.

“Hey,” His eyes still don’t leave the way your fingers were intertwined with each other. “Which house do you live in?”

(“I’m forgiven for coming in here without permission, right?” Your hands are stained with sticky chocolate that you’re trying to dab off with your dry handkerchief, bits of crumbs littering your lips.

“Ya can come here whenever you want now.” He wipes the remnants of soft biscuit and gooey chocolate off with a dismissive sleeve.

“That’s such a waste of a pretty kimono…”)

——

Even when your pinkies have lost their binding to each other, you still find his hand holding onto yours, adamant on them being intertwined as he huffs in annoyance at your stare.

“I’m only leadin’ ya back cause I wanna see your house.”

You give him that owlish stare again. The blank one that looks like you don’t have a thought passing through your head at all. “Okay,” You smile again.

“What’s your name, by the way?”

It’s a dismissive question, one that had only just occurred to you. You’re far more interested in watching the way the sun casted your shadows together on the concrete pavement, how your silhouettes gave you a sense of weird unity. Having a friend feels really nice, you think.

You take a glance at him when he takes too long to reply, catching an icy cold gaze that contrasted the warmth of your hands conjoined.

“You first.” Well, if he insists, you guess. It’s just your name.

“(last name) (name).” You’re pretty sure you got the pronunciation right.

“Gojo… Satoru.” You can hear him hold his breath as his name leaves his lips, his voice ever steady and confident, though with a tinge of hesitance. As if he expects something, as if he wants it to be over and done with.

It never comes. Only a confused tilt of your head as you keep staring at him like he was the crazy one in this situation.

And you can see his face change into one of disbelief, one that barely tilts over the edge of what you can only describe as ‘shocked relief’. Maybe he is as weird as he looks. Does he have some sort of weird complex? You can swear you’ve heard about it on TV before. Or maybe he just has really bad comedic timing? You can at least compliment him.

“You’re funny, Satoru-san.” Because he’s genuinely making you smile now.

“I didn’t give you permission to call me by my name.”

“Oh.” You thought friends were allowed to be on first name basis immediately. Were you wrong about friendships afterall? You stare at the ground for a little longer than needed as punishment for yourself, “Sorry, Gojo-s—“

“I didn’t give you permission to call me by my last name either.” His hand squeezes yours ever tighter in small retaliation, his face turned away from yours to hide the way he was starting to grow red with rapid embarrassment.

(You can still see the tips of his ears burning red.)

Now you’re just confused. A scratch of your head as you try to think a little bit harder.

“…do I just call you friend, then?” And you can hear him stifle a snort.

“You’re really weird.” He squeezes your palm again. “Lose the honourifics, weirdo.”

(“So, Gojo…?” You test the waters again. You see his eyes stare off to the side in thought for just that one moment before they flick back to meet your gaze.

“Satoru.”)

“My house is that one,” Your small fingers point towards the horizon, a quaint, unassuming home coming into sight. “You have to walk 3 houses down from the playground.”

You stop before the front. Trying to loosen your grip only to feel his hand tighten significantly around yours.

“Satoru.” You call his name when he’s seemingly lost in thought, his eyes staring blankly at your humble home. It almost looked as if he hasn’t seen one before. “It’s getting late.”

“Oh.” Is he copying you now?

“Don’t you need to go back home? Your Mama would be mad if you’re late, wouldn’t she?” You probe a little more in efforts to snap him out of his trance, poking at his squishy face to get his attention.

But to no avail.

He doesn’t say anything, his head only turning to the side to stare you straight in the eye as you await. You see how pinks and blues are practically reflecting off of those crystalline optics, the sky reflected in them as they shine with a certain warmth.

“Can I come by tomorrow?”

——

A small knock at your front door early into the morning, when the sun had barely risen and the skies were still painted in shades of night blue.

To be specific, it was 6:00 AM. Your Mama was startled as she sipped coffee in the kitchen, you hear her shuffling downstairs, hear the clatter of the very few kitchenware you had as you begin to stir from your sleep, your brain flaring into overdrive as you try to sniff out the air— Trying to capture whiffs of that rancid scent that you hate so much—

Nothing. Nothing but the growing smell of rotting flowers that sends jitters down your spine. It worries you, sends you into a panic as you practically trip over yourself to run downstairs, disregarding any of the instructions of hiding away in the closet like your Mama had taught you beforehand. You have to check— Have to see if she’s okay—

The door is already open.

“Is (name) home?” He’s the first to talk, eyes flicking back and forth between the slightly open door and the dim light from within your home and your sleepy mother.

Mama only blinks down at him, her phone on speed-dial to the police releasing its tense grip as her shoulders visibly slump forward. Her scent calming from the initial flare up as she opens the door just that little more to allow her full view of Gojo Satoru standing before your home accompanied solely by a pretty lady dressed in a simple kimono.

“Yes… She is—“

“Good morning, (last name)-sama.” A low bow that takes your mother by surprise. “Our young master has scheduled a playdate with your daughter for today.”

“I— Um, heard, yes. But I certainly didn’t expect it to be this early—“ Your Mama shifts in place a little uncomfortably, taking note of how the sun had yet to rise, how the street lamps were still alight.

“We apologize for the disturbance.” The servant girl swoops down into another polite bow, head low and hands holding out a neatly wrapped gift before her. “These are snacks to show our gratitude for hosting this event. Young Master Gojo was looking forward to this arrangement, and had made preparations to come as early as possible.”

What an… Interesting child.

“As I am not allowed to accompany him inside due to his request, please also take this number with you, (last name)-sama. Do not hesitate to call us if anything arises. I will arrive to pick him up when he wishes to go.”

“Ah, um… Thank you…” The box feels heavy in your Mama’s hands as you tug on her pajamas from behind, peeking out slightly once you hear the door close.

“Gojo-kun… Was it?” She has to blink a few times to really get a good look at the snowy-haired boy.

“How did you say your friend looked again?” She’s picking up a dumpling with her chopsticks, gently laying the food onto your plate as you continue to chew in humming delight.

Your training chopsticks are clacking against each other as you smile up at her, all toothy grin and happy glow.

“He’s really cute.”

She figures it checks out, the doll-like, porcelain features of his face, the shiny blue eyes and his silky looking hair. He doesn’t say anything, furrowed brows and curiosity in his eyes as he scrutinizes her too, the air starting to still just that little bit when he nods at her in greeting.

As if he was acknowledging her… And as if he didn’t know how else to react.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She leans down to shake his hand, noticing the softness of his skin, the grip of his hand. “And thank you for the gift.”

You pop out from hiding behind your Mama’s legs, blinking at how his clothing had switched from the pretty kimono yesterday— To a simple shirt and shorts.

“Satoru.” You smile only slightly, your voice dimmed with the raspiness of just waking up, waving your hand in greeting. “You’re not wearing your pretty clothes anymore.”

Mama watches, watches how his gaze had been fixated on you the moment you appeared, how he’s waiting—

“I’ll leave you both to it, then.” A ruffle of your hair as you let out a quiet giggle. “Make sure to wash up and brush your teeth.”

“Okay.”

And when she’s out of sight, her footsteps disappearing down the hallway— He starts to speak more.

“Your house is tiny.” Small. Inferior. Almost unlivable. He swears he’s seen servant quarters bigger than this as he kicks his sneakers off by the genkan, dusting himself of imaginary dust as he climbs up the step, his hand somehow finding yours with almost scary accuracy.

Is it? You always felt that it was too big. Always having too much space that you didn’t know what to do with.

“I think it’s nice.” You can feel yourself squeezing his palm with gentle self-assurance, leading him up the stairs and into the bedroom where your futon still laid upon the ground messily.

He sees darkness, hears the soft pads of your socks against tatami mats. Smells the faintest scent of honey within this room.

He stares. Silently, quietly. At the hadakake of your futon, at the thinner blanket that your Mama had taken out to deal with the sweltering heat of summer, at the overall state of the room.

“Are you poor?” You blink at him when he lays down next to you on his side, the softness of the bedding making your body feel heavy and sleepy, feeling a bit too lazy to want to keep the comfy sheets away.

“No.” Your whisper is quiet, soft. As if you were slowly fading away into sleep. “I have enough.” And he knows you’re telling the truth when you just give him a sleepy smile, a yawn escaping your lips as you cuddle against your pillow, eyes losing focus and turning the sight of your friend into a bleary blue and white.

”So I’m happy with just this.”

And he thinks you’ve really gone crazy.

“Good morning, Satoru…” Because you’re pretty sure you have yet to say it, as weird as it is when you’re in the midst of falling asleep.

“…morning.”

He’s fun to be around.

——

A couple weeks have passed, the same days of Satoru coming around to knock at your door too early in the morning, your sleep-deprived Mama getting the door and letting him in—

Only to end with both you and him sleeping in on your futon until early afternoon, when you both awaken only to play… Whatever, really. The playground, drawing at home, building pillow forts…

Mama tells you she doesn’t mind if he wants to come over, doesn’t mind if Satoru wants to play with you so often when she’s off to work. She tells you what really matters is what you want, that its up to you if you want him to come over this often, that it’s your choice to play with him.

(Mama described him once as ‘clingy’. You don’t know what that means, but you think it’s good. You have a friend. Your only friend.)

So you told him to only come once every 2 days, that you think too much interaction may ruin your alone time with Mama… Only to be met with a pout and eyes that teetered almost on watery even as you pat his head and apologise.

He still listened to you, though. Despite the glare to the side and the very evident pout on his face everytime he realises he doesn’t get to see you the next day—

Though, as of recently, Satoru had been the last thing on your mind. Your eyes taking interest in and stuck onto the house next door instead. It’s always been empty, more barren than your own. But it’s gotten ‘renovated’ as your Mama said, the walls losing their dull shade and obtaining a new shine, the boarded windows replaced with shiny, clear glass.

It looked really nice.

“Stop staring at the ugly house and look at me insteaddddddd!” Ever selfish, ever vying and whining for you to give him your undivided attention.

“(nameeeeeeeeeeee).”

“It’s not ugly, though.” You think it looks quaint, looks prettier than your own. “It looks pretty.” You’re curious what kind of people are gonna live there. Are they gonna be an old couple like how Satoru always claims? Maybe it’ll be a nice middle aged lady who likes to share her pickled vegetable dishes?

You just hope they’re nice.

“How much do you think it costs to rent-uh-vate?” Your stare is still pointed at the house next door, your window directly facing one of their rooms as you stare with curious intensity.

He narrows his eyes at the view of the empty rooms, the windows that still lacked curtains and the blank white of their freshly painted walls.

“Not much, I’m pretty sure.”

Probably not much in his terms, anyway.

“Mama said she thinks they’re gonna move in today.”

“Really? Then let’s watch ‘em later then.” He lets out a huff as he rolls around your floor, watching you settle down cross-legged next to him as he makes a grab for you. “I don’t wanna play at the playground t’day.”

“Oh. Okay then, let’s play the cards you brought then—“ Your words die on your lips, body reeling back to the window at the telltale beep of a horn, the loud rumbling of a truck starting to pull into the street just mere meters away from you.

And that has the both of you clambering up to the window, his hand holding yours to ensure you don’t fall as you both squeeze to stand on the same stool, hands pressed up against the glass as your cheeks squish against each other in hopes of getting a view of what these people will look like.

“If it’s not an old couple, can we play on the swing today?”

“Y’er on.”

Your eyes watch the dark blue Toyota pull in close behind, your heart starting to race in palpitating beats that make you think you’re gonna be sick.

“Looks cheap.” Satoru’s still as snarky as ever.

The passenger door swings open, mesmerizing you with the sight of someone new, someone unfamiliar; a stranger that you’ve never seen before. Your gaze is stuck, unable to leave the features that capture your mind first—

Black hair and purple eyes.

masterlist next

[tmr-simp77397]

galentine’s day - r.c. ❥

summary: while your planning a galentines get together with your friends, rafe overhears and decides otherwise..

warnings: smut!! 18+ fem!reader, sub!reader, switch!rafe, creampie, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, innocent-ish!reader, aggressive!rafe, making out, degrading, praise, fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YALL TAP IT), nicknames, and i think that’s it!

a/n: hiii i’m back!! i got this idea to write this story mid class today and just decided why not i need to get my thoughts out and actually write. hope u guys like it ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

rafe was at your house on this gloomy saturday afternoon since your parents were gone for the weekend on business. you were sitting on your bed watching tiktoks, the netflix show that had been put on hours ago was since ignored, and rafe had been downstairs getting snacks for a couple minutes. as you were watching a video about the 10 year olds storming sephora, you got a call from sarah.

you pick up and speak into the phone “hey sarah! what’s up?” you say with a smile even though you know she doesn’t see you.

“heyyy y/n, you busy tonight?” sarah questioned.

“i mean, no not tonight. i’ve just been with rafe all day” you pause, “other than that i’m free tonight, why?”

sarah squeals, “me and the girls were thinking to have a little galentines party at kat’s house! what do you think? it’s gonna be around 7 so you definitely have time to get ready.”

you glance over at the clock, 5:14PM. you were going to spend the whole day with your boyfriend, but one girls night can’t hurt, right??

as you were about to respond, rafe walked into your room with some of your favorite snacks. he sat back onto the bed and rested his hand on your thigh while saying “what does sarah want, whatever she said tell her no.”

“sarah ill text you” you say into the phone as you hang up. “sarah invited me to kat’s house tonight for a galentines party”

“the fuck is a galentines” rafe chuckles

you roll your eyes “it’s a valentine’s day party for girls who are single and still want to have fun on valentine’s day”

“mmm, as of 4 months ago though you are not single— if i’m correct.” rafe said sarcastically.

you smirk and sit up “i know that. and my boyfriend is funny, and veryyyyy sexy for your information”

“i’d like to meet him one day, seems like a handsome guy” rafe cooed.

there was an intense silence for about a minute as you two both looked in each others eyes, rafes pupils dilating making his green eyes get full by the black orb.

“rafe are you okay” you say practically whispering looking up at him through your eyelashes.

rafe doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds, letting his eyes wander your body and face, landing on your plush pink lips. out of nowhere, he grabs your neck and roughly places his lips on yours practically attacking your face. you gasped from the sudden reaction allowing him to shove his tongue into your mouth. “mmmh” you moaned, getting onto rafes lap to have a better angle kissing him. you started to move your hips against his lap, not noticing what you were doing still being dumbfounded by him kissing you not too long ago.

rafe pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips together. as you were about to complain, rafe spoke up “fuck princess, i’m so hard”

you licked your lips excitedly and say, “i could help you rafey” while taking off your tank top in the process.

“no y/n” he said. “tonight, it’s gonna be all about you. get undressed.”

you look at him shocked. you had to be at sarah’s party soon!! but, you could never pass up sex with your boyfriend. and in this moment, neither could he.

“i fucking said get undressed, now” rafe said, almost shouting.

while that did startle you, you started to unclasp your bra, and take off your shorts along with your panties. after, you laid flat on the bed, your elbows propping you up.

rafe smirked, he loved when you obeyed him. he started kissing your collarbone sucking marks that will definitely show the next day, making his way down to your boobs. his hand made its way to one of your boobs, needing it with his hand, and moved to your other boob swirling his tongue around your nipple.

“mhmmm- fuck rafe, feels so good” you moaned

as rafe was swirling his tongue around your nipple, he suddenly stopped pulling off with a pop.

“rafey, why’d you stop” you whined. you didn’t get a response until you felt his hard on pressing into your thigh which made you gasp.

an amused smile played at rafes lips, “see what you do to me sweetheart” he said lowly “i’m going to fucking ruin you.”

that sentence alone almost made you cum. anytime rafe dominated you made you feel like mush under his touch. and this was one of those moments.

as rafe stayed on top of you, he took off his shirt to reveal his toned abs that were glistening with sweat beads. your eyes trailed down to his happy trail, wanting more.

“tsk tsk, not yet sweetheart” he cooed.

you whined, starting to get impatient. when suddenly, you felt rafes fingers plunging into you knuckle deep.

“mmh rafe please” you screamed

“doesn’t that feel good, baby?”

“fuck, y-yes rafe, feels so- so good”

rafe hummed in appreciation, thrusting his fingers at a faster pace and adding another one. you gasped loudly, head falling back onto the pillows as your hands flew to rafes buzzed head, scratching it lightly.

a few soft moans fell from your lips and rafe swore he was in heaven. you sounded so beautiful, even in this position. you were going to be the death of him.

“f-fuck rafe im- im close” you say as you clenched onto his fingers, the pleasure feeling almost too good.

as soon as rafe felt you clench on his fingers, he pulled out. he couldn’t help but stare at your face. hair clinging to your face from sweat, lips all puffy, you looked somewhat innocent but so dirty at the same time.

as soon as you opened your mouth to protest, rafe brought his head down to your puffy clit and started to swirl his tongue around it, “you taste so fucking good sweetheart” he said muffled.

and without warning, you came all over his tongue. being overstimulated from not being able to finish earlier including this made the knot in your stomach snap sooner than you thought.

once rafe felt you cum, he lifted his head up from your pussy and started to unzip his pants. you, however were still in a trance from your orgasm so you didn’t really hear him.

rafe threw his pants to the floor and pulled down his boxers, cock springing up hitting his lower abdomen, tip glistening with pre. he started to jerk himself off a bit before going into you.

you got snapped out of your trance when you felt something against your sensitive pussy from your previous orgasm and started to whimper and close your tired legs.

rafe saw this and immediately pushed your legs back apart, holding them in place with his strong hands.

“what a slut, cumming without my permission and now you think i’m not going to fuck some sense into you huh?”

you whined “rafe please no more.”

rafe chuckled to himself, “your gonna take it weather you like it or not baby. should have came with permission before.”

right after he said that, he shoved his fat cock inside of you making you gasp. you’d never get used to his size no matter how many times you’ve had sex before.

“fuck, princess so tight.“ he complained

you let out a near pornographic moan and arched your back while bringing your hands to rafes back and scratching lightly, “feels—fuck—feels so good”

“say it princess” rafe demanded, “say it slut, say i’m the only one who can make you feel this good”

you couldn’t form any words cause of how cock drunk you were, and rafe knew that, so he teased you.

he brought his right hand up to snake around your throat with a tight grip.

“fucking say it” he spat

you started scratching his back harder signaling to stop. he loosened his grip, thrusts still consistent, and let you speak.

“your- your the, fuck- your the only o-one that could make feel th-this good” you stuttered, hoping he would take his hand off your throat.

“now that was easy right princess” rafe smirked with a look of evil in his eyes. it scared you seeing him like this, but you liked it at the same time.

the sound of skin slapping was the only thing in the room that could be heard. other than your moans and rafes groans. you felt the knot in your belly almost breaking, signaling you were close.

“r-rafe” you managed to choke out, “i’m close”

he shook his head “when sluts like you break the rules, you only get to cum when i say so”

you whined. you couldn’t hold it in for any longer; but you had to or else you know you would get punished.

rafe felt you clenching and groaned, “fuck your so sexy”

a red tint spread across your cheeks as rafe started rubbing your clit in a figure 8 motion. it took everything in you to not let go right there. but, you held it in.

as you felt his dick twitching inside of you, you knew he was close.

“fuck ‘m not gonna last longer with you squeezing me like that baby” rafe groaned, “you can- fuck- you can cum now angel, let go. i’m right behind you.”

as soon as you heard those words you let go, you squeezed him tightly, your cum squirting out of you.

“gonna fill you up baby. gonna give you my babies” rafe said as he also let go as he came inside of you, moaning loudly.

as you were in a cloudy state, you could feel ropes of rafes cum coat your walls, making you whine.

you felt his thrusts get sloppy, his hips stuttering as his dick twitched inside of you.

he let his head dip down to the crook of your neck and started giving sloppy wet kisses.

“your mine baby. all mine. did so good for me today”

you smiled softly, eyes drooping as tiredness takes you over.

rafe glanced at the clock on your nightstand, 6:18PM.

“now baby, your gonna go to that party with my cum dripping down your legs, got it?”

hi baby’s, i feel like this was a bit rushed so let me know what you think ❦ i also haven’t written in a while, so i hope you think it’s good :)

taglist: @annaherling444 @purswaterfall my baby’s i love u

[hhtdl]

a/n -; It took me over 4 weeks to write this because for the life of me i couldn't figure out the direction this was gonna go i did not want to fuck up my first ever hoshina fic... but enjoy it anyway

Favorite break

wc: 1.3k

warnings: 18+, pussy eating, finger fucking, fist fucking, cum on pussy, rubbing, mutual masturbation, fuck buddy relationship, f!reader

You're the best way for him to spend his breaks at the base.

ageless/blank/minors profiles will be blocked

Your noises were soft but breathless, your back slightly arched against your Vice-Captain’s desk, his head between your legs with slow ministrations of his tongue against your warm folds. He couldn’t stop mumbling about just how good you sounded, or how delicious you tasted.

Your shorts were discarded somewhere while your panties were hanging off your foot that rested on his shoulder, and he was keeping your legs open for more of his sassy mouth to shut up on its own by eating you out like some starved caveman.

His features disappeared with how his face was pressed between your thighs, holding your trembling legs in place due to how you wanted to close them on him after your first orgasm. You lost count of how many times you’ve come undone under him, and you knew that he wasn’t done with you. 

Those eyes, that were usually closed and relaxed, stared at you from your core with a sharp edge of desire. His red orbs always reminded you of the ‘red strings of fate’ theory, since they constantly pulled you back to him, whether it be in his tongue or on his cock… You never complained about either one.

The first time was just after you made a name of yourself in the third division, and you began to work with the Vice-Captain a lot more. Drunk calling him one night was a bad idea, but the phone sex that came after it didn’t help with the delusion of wanting him so deep inside of you.

He called you and asked you if he could see you after weeks, and you happily accepted, only to end up fucking for most hours of the night against the wall inside of the gym on base and finally able to experience what it was like for the Soshiro Hoshina to paint your walls until your legs felt like mush.

You thought it would be a few times before he was bored, but you were so wrong.

He caught you after your shower for the night, not being able to help but eye you in your pajamas. Your gasp was like a snap of a playful pull towards him as he pinned you to the wall, and it wasn’t long before you could feel his erection pressing against your clothed core through his pants.

He was lucky that he had you wrapped around his finger, your body unable to resist his touches and kisses along your skin. Next thing you knew, he already had you desperate for him. Your body ached for more, even if it was just his fingers.

Your hands entangled into his hair to make him keep going, your moans growing a bit louder since you were so close to another orgasm. It felt amazing, but a whine of longing slipped out of you as he stopped fucking you with his tongue.

“What the hell…?” You said breathlessly, taking your hands away from him to fix your messy hair.

“Oh, sweetheart, I called you over, that means I get to do whatever I please.”

His tone was teasing yet serious, the look in his eyes showing just how sex-crazed he was right now. It turned you on more than you already were, so you sat up to meet his eye level. “Alright. Give me some orders then, sir.”

Hoshina laughed before his hand reached around your waist to pull you closer, putting you right where you could feel his erection against your inner thighs. “Just sit there and take it like a good girl. Oh, and… don’t be so loud, princess.”

His voice was still playful, but he started unbuckling his pants with a single hand. He knew that was your favorite thing. You watched as his hard cock sprung out, the veins giving it all such definition. You’ve seen his dick many times before, but it never failed to take your breath away.

Your hand instinctively reached down and massaged your clit, letting out a soft moan from how swollen your sensitive bud became from his earlier actions. You saw Soshiro’s smirk at the corner of your eye before he took your hand away.

“No, none of that. That’s not allowed this time.” He said, his voice husky and dominating. You whined as a response before you reached to take his cock into your hands.

Your thumb spread his leaking pre-cum over the tip of his shaft. Hoshina groaned and bucked his hips into your hand, fucking your fist slowly as his hands gripped the edge of his desk that gently creaked under you from the weight and movements of your bodies.

“Fuck, sweetheart… You'll kill a man with that pretty hand—” He whispered before whimpering softly and thrusting his hips a bit faster, and you couldn't help but rub his cock against your folds for your own pleasure.

The whimper that escaped him as his pretty tip made your wet folds creamy, and he couldn’t help but leak over your clit, hissing while your moans sound heavenly to both of you when he’s the one making you come undone. 

Your moans grew louder at the way two of his fingers gently pushed up into your velvety walls, finger-fucking your pussy with sweet care and attention. His pace was fast enough to constantly have you moaning and whimpering. With every thrust of his hand, he pushed his digits deeper and harder to curl and hit your most sensitive spot, causing your legs to tremble against his sides.

You felt the mixed wetness with pre-cum pool under you and with a slight look, your eyes spotted the cream-colored liquid that was starting to gather into his hand, had you already orgasmed without warning?

It was possible.

Soshiro’s cock twitched in your hand, and he was starting to whine against your neck with pleas to let him cum all over you. His tone was breathless yet possessive, mumbling about how hot it would be for you to walk around and go to sleep with his seed spilled all over your folds and thighs.

“You’re fucking mine, you hear? This pretty pussy is gonna remember the shape of my dick one day…”

Those words sent a shiver down your spine from how out of breath and needy he sounded, a low-tone and a slight growl in his throat as he warned you. He was right, he did own your insides with how perfect he fucked and played with your body.

When your orgasm came crashing down, you moaned out his name directly in his ear. With his own groan in response, hot ropes of cum landed on your clit and inner thighs, and fuck was it hot to see him grip the edge of the desk while trying to compose himself.

“Shit…” He whispered, your own curse escaping your lips before you felt his hand grabbing your chin. “Watch your fucking mouth… You’re too gorgeous to talk like that.” 

You couldn’t help but smile playfully at his sass, tilting your head to look into his eyes with a hazy expression. “Damn hypocrite.”

Laughter filled the room before he cleaned you up with a napkin, fixing your clothes back onto your body before a gentle smack landed on your ass, a cute yelp escaping your mouth from the surprise. “Soshiro!”

“Yeah, yeah, give you a warning next time, blah blah—” he mocked with a smirk and wink, sitting back in his chair after fixing his own pants. “See you later, pretty lady.”

You rolled your eyes before shaking your head and teasing him while leaving, “Get back to work, Vice-Captain!”

“I was just taking a break!” He yelled back just before the door to his office closed. He stared at the door for a while after, his eyes noticing the stain on his desk before muttering under his breath, “My favorite kind of break at that…”

[lucid-loves]

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 6

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 4.8k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction. 

Chapter Synopsis: Kate calls you with some news about the mole. Ghost stops by your room a couple hours before you are all meant to leave in order to spend some more private time with you. When everyone leaves to board the early train to Paris, he is still adamant about sticking to your side. 

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

Dinner went smoothly. A little awkward for you, but fine. You mainly just listened to the conversations, not feeling comfortable enough to include yourself just yet. The 141 respected your boundary, only cracking jokes and discussing things that showed off their personalities. Kyle was the most mellow out of the group, despite being the youngest. Soap was definitely the loudest, a jokester. At least he was confident. Price was level-headed but sharp. He wasn’t afraid to tease his team when the opportunity was just right.

And Ghost? You got to see a new side of him. One that was more open around his teammates. Considerate, but snarky every now and then. Dry, blunt, caring. The side you were already familiar with though was still there at dinner. The entire time during dinner, he secured himself right beside you, close to you. He didn’t seem all that happy when Kyle sat next to you on your other side too. Every so often, Ghost’s leg would brush against yours, the exuding heat making you shiver. He really ran warm.

At some point, you caught on that he was brushing his leg against yours on purpose. He did it every time Gaz ended up bumping your shoulder during a fit of chuckles, completely by accident. It didn’t bother you too much, having grown more comfortable around the men as time passed during dinner. 

However, it completely bothered Ghost. He knew that Kyle didn’t mean any harm. He most likely wasn’t realizing that he was doing it. Yet, it still bothered him. He’s the only one that wanted the privilege of touching you. By accident or on purpose. It scared him a little, the sinking feeling he got every time Gaz’s shoulder brushed against yours. The feeling of jealousy. He didn’t know that he was the jealous type. 

Once dinner was over, everyone retreated back to their bedrooms to try to get some rest in. Ghost lied in his bed, Soap having taken over the shower as soon as they got back to the room. He closed his eyes, trying to see if he could actually rest up. 

Simon has always struggled with sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, he would see nightmares. Experiences that he has gone through that he wouldn’t even wish upon his enemies. The flashbacks were a bit more tolerable when his eyes were just resting. They were just images in his mind. It was when he actually fell asleep that his nightmares came to life. There have been plenty of moments where he would jump up in bed, clutching his chest and trying to get his panicked breathing under control. Sometimes his skin even twitched painful from where he would be stabbed, shot, or even bitten within his dreams. 

He’s always dreaded sleeping. However, this time, when he closed his eyes and took deep breaths, he didn’t see his past behind his eyelids. He saw you. You tossing him the book you’re letting him borrow, you starting the fire in the cabin, you listening intently to confidential conversations, you giving him a teasing smile with the sunset behind you. He even saw you on top of him, hips pressed against his and a knife to his chest. Before he knew it, he was imagining a replay of that entire situation, only this time, you were dressed in only your panties and t-shirt like the first day he met you. Your t-shirt would weigh down with gravity as you would straddle him. He would have been able to see your cleavage. The thin fabric of your underwear would drive him crazy too. It would make him want to just rip them to shreds just to see all of you without a barrier. 

All of these thoughts were involuntary, but Ghost was having a hard time trying to stop them once they started. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of the shower turning off that he opened his eyes back up to stop the dirty film in his mind. When he sat up and looked down, he cursed under his breath. Really? A fucking boner? Again? What were you doing to him? 

He got up and shifted his pants just as Soap came out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed and ready for some sleep. When he saw his lieutenant standing and putting on some boots, he raised his brow curiously. “You going somewhere, Lt?”

“Gonna walk around a little. Burn some extra energy.” He made up, hoping the excuse would be enough for Soap to drop it. Hopefully, Soap wouldn’t look too closely at him either. 

Johnny nodded and headed towards the room’s mini-fridge, helping himself to an ice cold water bottle. As Simon left, Soap didn’t notice the slight bulge in his pants. Although, he did notice the lieutenant walking a little differently. Not unlike the way most boys had to walk when they were trying to hide something they couldn’t control due to puberty. He held his breath to avoid laughing. Right up until the door was closed with a click. Soap never thought that he would see Ghost so down bad for anyone.

Simon headed up to the rooftops to get some alone time. He’s been meaning to find some more time to finish the book you lent him. Finding a comfortable spot leaning against the wall, he cracked open the book and began to read, a military-grade flashlight illuminating the words on the page.

~

The time ticked slowly through the night, having you wonder if time had actually stopped. There were still a couple of hours left before it was time to check-out, so you tried to fill the time as best as you could. You just stepped out of the shower, a long, warm one. You normally took quick showers that were lukewarm at best. When it was the hotel paying the hot water bill, however, you didn’t really care about how long your shower was or how hot the water rushed. 

It was heaven feeling the water pressure massage your tense muscles. The scent of clean steam and soap helped you relax as well. You weren’t one for the standard, generic soaps that most hotels provided. You preferred your own scents, your own soaps that you were accustomed to. The scents that helped you feel most comfortable in your own scarred skin.

By the time you turned off the shower, your fingertips had turned pruny and you were craving a cold beverage. Wrapping a towel around your frame, you stepped back out into the beverage to pick a fruit juice from the fridge. As you sipped, the phone on your desk started to vibrate. There was only one person in the world that could call you. If she was calling at this hour, it must’ve been important. 

“Kate.” You greeted nonchalantly. 

“Hex, how are you doing?” She started with small talk. She always started with some small talk with you before discussing the important matters. Usually it was because she had to butter you up so she could ask for a favor. 

Lucky for her, you didn’t mind it. “I’m fine. We’re making good progress with the mission. I’ve been getting to know the boys too. They’re not half bad.”

You could practically feel Kate beaming through the phone at your confession. She was incredibly excited for you. “That’s great to hear! I figured that you would get along with them better than anyone else. I told you they were good men.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet. There’s still a lot to do and a lot I don’t know. I haven’t given them my complete seal of approval yet.” You teased, a small smile gracing your own face as you imagined how happy Kate was. You couldn’t remember the last time you witnessed her smile.

She gave a warm laugh before clearing her throat. “John has told me about what he thinks of you as well as how you’ve been interacting with the team. It was a rocky start, but he told me that you had dinner with them tonight. Really, Hex. I think this is good for you. They’re good for you.”

“Anyway, talking about this isn’t the only reason why I called. I wanted to give you an update on our potential mole situation.” She continued, her tone shifting to proud and carefree to serious and grave.

You took a seat on your bed, preparing to hear the report. “And?”

Laswell paused for a while before releasing a shaky breath. “At the original checkpoint where you were supposed to pick up an armored vehicle, there was an ambush waiting. Makarov’s men. The vehicle wasn’t stolen, so there is no way that they were just there to steal military property. Their only reason for being there was to apprehend the 141.”

“So we have a mole situation after all.” You groaned. When it came to things like this, you hated being proven right. It wasn’t like you liked these kinds of things happening, waiting to brag like a child. This was serious.

“Your hunch was right and you have proven it. The only people that knew where the 141 was going and where they were supposed to be were me and Shepherd. Shepherd doesn’t suspect that I have been turning in false paperwork, but he has questioned me on where you guys were. I think in his panic, he bought my lie. He seemed spooked.” She elaborated in detail.

“Have you told the boys yet?” You inquired. From her tone, it sounded like she hadn't.

“Negative. I figured that you should break the news. Besides, I don’t have anything concrete yet. If tried in court, Shepherd could brush it off as a mere coincidence. Legally, I have to be careful with who I tell and how I say things. I’m going to keep digging on my end, see about getting something on record. You guys just keep going. Take down Makarov.” She decided, her determination clear in her decision. Kate wasn’t one to let these kinds of things brush under the rug. Her sense of justice was too strong for that, even if Shepherd was her superior.

You trusted her to get the job done. She was really risking her job with this one. The least you could do was play a little secretary for her. “Got it. Thanks, Kate. And be careful. If Shepherd is willing to release confidential information to Makarov for his own gain, who knows what else he may do to ensure that no one finds out.”

“Thanks for the warning, Hex, but I don’t think I have anything to worry about. I have an assassin on my side after all. The best in the world.” She claimed, her tone light again.

She wished you good night and hung up, leaving you to process the turn of events. It was going to be tough breaking the news to the team. You could imagine that they were going to get very angry when they finally do know. 

You got up from your bed to finally get changed. Just as you were picking out some underwear, there was a knock on your door. Without thinking much of it, you yelled out. “Come in.”

Ghost unlocked the door and waltzed right in only to see you in nothing but a fluffy towel. He reacted to his surprise with anger. “What the fuck, Hex? Why would you invite me in if you were still naked?!”

“A good soldier shouldn’t get distracted by nudity.” You reminded him with a casual shrug.

“Hex.” He simply warned with your call sign, his eyes roaming your body. He could see more scars covering you than before, your full arms, shoulders, and some chest now exposed to him. God, he wanted to trace every scar you had with his tongue. At the same time, he wanted to strangle you.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, proceeding to prepare to finally get dressed. “If it really bothers you that much, then turn around for a minute. There are more important things to worry about right now.”

He grumbled curses under his breath. How dare you put him in such a dangerous situation! Either he turned around and admitted that it did bother him, or he watched you change. For him, it meant sacrificing some pride while the other meant sacrificing his cool. And he just recently calmed down his dirty thoughts of you too. 

To you, it really didn’t matter. He had already confessed that he cared about you as a teammate. He wanted you safe. What did you have to worry about in this situation? 

In the end, he opted to turn halfway around. He could still see you just out of the corner of his eye, but he tried to keep his gaze straight. Still though, he ached to see you. Even the blurry figure of you nude was such a fucking tease.

You dropped the towel and slipped on some underwear followed by a shirt with a different band on the front. Briefly, you looked over to Simon who stood with his arms crossed, clearly irritated. You contemplated putting on some pants for a moment before ultimately deciding against it. You preferred to be comfortable at night. When he heard you sitting down on the bed, he turned back around.

He didn’t know what drove him crazier. You completely nude, you in nothing but a towel, or you in pajamas that just left a little something to his imagination. How infuriatingly attractive.

“Might want to take a seat for what I’m about to tell you.” You gestured to the desk chair, waiting for him to take a seat. When he settled himself in, hands strategically placed in his lap, you began with your update.

“Kate just called. She said that Makarov’s men were planted at the original checkpoint, hoping to ambush you. Shepherd is definitely a mole given the circumstance, but she needs time to gather more evidence that would hold up in court.” You pulled the band-aid right off. Your bluntness was usually something that knocked people off their feet. Hence, the offer to sit.

Ghost sat in silence, feeling betrayed. He wasn’t surprised. Not in the slightest. Ever since Shepherd allowed Shadow Company to take over in Mexico, he’s never trusted him again. Soap and himself almost died from that incident. More than once too. When Shepherd disappeared afterward, Ghost thought he was a coward. Lucky though. If Shepherd stuck around, Simon would’ve most likely lost his shit on him if one of his teammates didn’t do it first. 

He clenched his fists, knuckles cracking menacingly. He could kill someone. Specifically Shepherd. All he could think about now was wrapping his hands around his neck and squeezing down as hard as he could. Hard enough to have his eyes pop out of his skull. “Fucking Shepherd. . .”

You weren’t surprised by his reaction. It was exactly how you expected to go. Anyone would be upset about this. Especially the 141. You’ve read those mission reports. You knew about what transpired in Mexico. However, you were worried that Simon was going to pop a blood vessel. You wanted to make sure that Laswell got back her down deposit on the hotel rooms too. 

Simon didn’t notice you getting up, his vision only seeing red. Once you softly touched his shoulder, though, all he could see was you. Your hair still damp, your eyes more warm, and your fresh scent flooding his senses. It calmed him down, his blood pressure going down. Yet, his heart didn’t slow. In fact, it seemed to quicken even more at your proximity to him. Your scars, your hint of cleavage, your thighs. You exposed so much on the surface. But he wanted to explore your depths.

He stood up from the chair, almost causing it to fall over from his force. Your quick step back wasn’t fast enough to escape Simon’s reach. In less than a second, he threw off his mask, grabbed your face, and smashed his lips against yours. He couldn’t fight his attraction to you anymore. He wanted everything from you and he wanted it now.

It startled to be kissed so suddenly. To be grabbed and pulled towards him. He should’ve known better by now. At first, you growled in protest, fight mode kicking in as your natural instinct. You haven’t yet registered what he exactly was doing. Hands gripped his firm shoulders tightly, prepared to push him away. Once your brain flashed with the image of his face, you finally melted. 

You only managed to see his face for a split second, but it was more than enough to know that he was devastatingly handsome. A strong jaw, light stubble, and a couple of scars that told a story. His lips were perfect too, just as you had imagined. Not only to see, but to kiss as well. Mostly soft, just a little rough, all sweet.

As soon as you relaxed, Simon wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest and letting his hand roam your back. Instead of easing up, he just dived deeper, his kisses getting more passionate with each second. It was making you lightheaded, moans threatening to escape as you began to feel your brain go numb. He barely gave you time to breathe as he continued to deepen the kiss, his own senses becoming heightened to how you felt on his lips.

Without warning, his hands slipped underneath your shirt to feel your bare back, causing you to gasp and shiver. Simon took advantage of your shock and slipped his tongue into your mouth, his heart going wild with the sweetness of your warm taste. You let out an involuntary moan as he took over your mouth which was more than just music to Ghost’s ears. It was the sound of heaven on earth. And he wanted to replay it like a skipping record.

Your legs were getting weak with each swipe of his tongue, the fear of having your knees buckle taking over. While you tried to grab his attention by tapping his shoulders, he just ignored you. That, or he didn’t notice. He was too busy exploring every inch of your mouth. Licking, sucking, and even biting. You were trembling with pure pleasure at this point, something that he absolutely relished with all his being. He loved feeling each shudder go through you. He loved being able to trace it up your spine to only cause more quivering. It didn’t take much longer for you to begin feeling your panties get damp with your wetness. You were practically dripping already.

It wasn’t like Simon wasn’t affected either. Pressed up against you was his rock-hard erection. One that was impossible to hide or make excuses for. 

As soon as he bit your lip in a heated impulse, you pushed him back to catch your breath. Your chest heaved, trying to fill your lungs with air. He left you breathless. “Fucking hell, Simon! You’re gonna suffocate me! You gotta let a girl have some air.”

Jesus, you needed to sit down. Your legs were shaking like a newborn deer. If you didn’t take a seat, you may very well fall to the floor. While you caught your breath on the bed, Simon went to turn the lights off. While he didn’t mind showing you his face for a moment, he wanted to return to some of his comfort zone. He had a feeling that you would prefer the comfort of the dark too for what he was about to do to you.

As the lights went out, your eyes strained to adjust to the dark. Your stomach was flooded with butterflies, your heart raced, and your skin tingled. You could hear the rustle of clothing, Simon deciding that his shirt was no longer necessary. Through the dark with adjusted vision, you could see Simon approaching you once again. His whole torso was covered in scars as well. The tattoos covering his whole forearm probably camouflage even more. Besides that, his muscles were defined, his chest and abs revealed in all their glory. This wasn’t just the body of a man. This was the body of a soldier. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared of what was most likely going to happen. It has been a very, very long time since you’ve been with anyone. Not since fooling around in high school and a little bit right after. “W-Wait, Simon-”

“I’m not waiting and I’m not sorry.” He cut you off, his voice gruff, unapologetic. His voice was closer than you thought, the deep vibration of his vocal chords going right through you. Before you could protest further, he pushed you down on the bed, towering over you with his ripped 6’3” frame. 

Instead of your lips, he went straight for your neck, quickly finding out just how sensitive you were there as he aggressively kissed it. Your back arched, torso pressing against his as he fulfilled his desires. You bit your lip, trying to mute any moan that may escape past your lips. When his hands went up your shirt to grope your breasts, you whimpered, voice shuttering. You weren’t used to this. This lack of control. This feeling of being consumed. But Christ, did it feel so good. Especially with Ghost. Regardless, you needed his attention in order to let him know what to expect if you were to go further. “S-Simon!”

The sound of you whimpering his name made him freeze. He daydreamed about that sound. Hearing it in real life had him reeling. It had his cock twitch in anticipation too. You really fucking turned him on, whether you knew it or not. As much as he wanted to keep going, he finally gave you a chance to speak up. Hopefully, this wouldn’t take long. “Hex?”

Ghost’s own breathlessness when he said your name made your heart skip a beat. You clenched your thighs together, feeling some slickness that ended up dripping from your weeping pussy. You needed to say your piece before it’s too late. “I. . . I haven’t done something like this in forever. . .”

You trailed off, wanting to say more but you couldn’t organize the thoughts that were scrambled in your head. He made you weak. Excited. As much as you wanted desperately to keep going, there was a small part of you that couldn’t ignore the fact that you were scared. You were scared to be so vulnerable again. More than you were now. You were just beginning to open up about your personality after all.

Simon swallowed hard, noticing your apprehension. He wanted to punch himself for rushing you. For pouncing on you like a wild animal in heat. He wasn’t sorry before, but he was definitely sorry now. It made his heart ache. “You don’t want to continue, do you?”

“It’s not that simple. If I’m being honest, I want more. Fuck, I want it all. I haven’t felt this fucking excited in years. I just. . . There’s something stopping me from giving all of myself away so suddenly. . .” You tried to explain, each word out of your mouth strained. Why couldn’t it be more simple? Why couldn’t you just say “fuck it” and have the night of your life?

Ghost was amazing. Sure, you two have fought. Your fights could cause earthquakes with how intense they got. At the same time, he was strong, confident, handsome, and alluring. He hasn’t minded that you have pressed a knife against him twice already. He hasn’t cared about you biting at him with each attempt of getting close to you. He’s been stubborn and patient with you. Most people would have been scared away by now. Most people would’ve left by now. 

Yet, you still didn’t trust him completely yet due to your fears. What was that fear though? Besides being afraid of being vulnerable, what else did you fear?

His hand landed on your cheek with much more gentleness than before. He helped guide your eyes to look at him. In the depths of the dark, you could still see his blues. Vibrant like a midnight blue full of stars. His gaze has softened too. 

Your breath caught in your throat as he looked at you with such tenderness. Such remorse for what he has done to you. His small smile, though, conveyed optimism. 

Jesus, you could cry. You were starting to fall for him. 

“It’s okay, Hex. I’m sorry for pushing for something you clearly weren’t ready for. I let my emotions get the better of me. The truth is, I find you irresistible. I didn’t kiss you because I needed relief from my anger over Shepherd. I kissed you because I’ve wanted to for a while now.” He explained with full transparency, something you deserved. He wasn’t ready to admit any deeper feelings that were growing within his heart. He couldn’t make complete sense of it yet. For now, we would keep those confusing feelings hidden, but he won’t hide his attraction any longer.

He got up off of you and rubbed the back of his neck, just now feeling slightly embarrassed for his actions. He couldn’t get the kiss out of his head just yet. Nor the sound of your moans or the softness of your breasts. Simon wouldn’t be able to forget any of that any time soon.

Slowly, you sat up, adjusting your shirt that was hiked up pretty high. “Thanks for understanding. I just need more time.”

Your hand was taken up in his, a little squeeze grabbing your attention again. “I promised you that we would take things slow. I broke that promise just now. Not again.”

Relief washed over you like a tidal wave. Finally, you could breathe easier. Being with him still did things to your head and heart. Something that you would address in solitude later. Right now, you still wanted him to be with you. “What did you originally knock on my door for?”

His shoulders fell as you slowly turned back into your calm state. He loved driving you crazy in more ways than one. However, he liked you calm too. It was something he fed off of along with your other emotions. “I finished the book you recommended. I came to talk about it.”

“Well, we still have time before we have to head out. Wanna talk about it now?”

~

The train station platform was deserted. Most people were still sleeping comfortably in their beds. 

Not the 141. Not Makarov’s weapon guys either. 

They haven’t noticed any of you as you dressed in civilian clothes. Even Simon switched his balaclava for a simpler face mask, complete with a lower skull print as part of his brand. The military luggage was swapped out for regular travel luggage as well. Truly, you all looked like tourists. Maybe even residents.

You had told the rest of them about your call with Kate discreetly during check-out. Now more than ever, they wanted to take Makarov down. It would most likely lead to Shepherd’s arrest as well. They were willing to do whatever it takes, even if it meant taking your fashion advice when it was time to wear civilian clothes. You guys were in Italy. American-styled casuals weren’t going to cut it.

Makarov’s men sat in the boxcar two up from yours. Price planned on sneaking into the luggage cart to find their shipment to place trackers on later during breakfast service.You would be on the lookout when he does. Ghost would be the one to place the trackers on the men. Gaz, and Soap would check to see if they worked through their laptops within the safety of their seats. 

As of now, you all sat in a car together, waiting patiently for your opportunities. You took the window seat, looking out at the platform that eventually began to slowly pass once the train started. Ghost was sat right next to you, ensuring that you could feel the warmth of his side against you. He would make sure that this would be his spot for the rest of the ride. 

-

Taglist: @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @dory-98 @cum-tea-and-towels @completelymarveltrash @watersquirtpewpewboomm @thychuvaluswife @sweetheart-im-the-boss @anotherrickinthewall @bluewinter39 @fortunatelydecadentstudent @transparentsheepsheep @rhaenryawhore @randomlyblues @issssawrap @lachimolalaa3 @callsign-pyro @corruptcrybaby @kdadss @lexuria @dookiedanish

[cottonlemonade]

A Simpler Life - Masterlist and random Headcanons

pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn, eventual smut warnings: spoilers, eventual mdni, nsfw (part 4) synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor. [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

Here are some thoughts I had while writing that didn’t find a space in the story:

> it took Kita a solid hour to formulate his first note to you

> before having sex for the first time, Kita goes to buy condoms while he is on an errand in the city so as to not alert the entire town - he is really careful about it all only to then realize that you went to buy condoms at the town‘s pharmacy so all his sneaking was for naught and he gets knowing looks next time he’s grabbing supplies from the local hardware store

> he swears the local grannies to secrecy so nothing gets back to Yumie before it‘s time

> he has definitely been happy about accidentally cutting his hand while trimming a tree because he was looking forward to getting fussed over by you

> when you start dating, Roku‘s bed systematically moves closer to the house every couple of weeks - of course Kita notices but he doesn‘t say anything because he thinks it‘s too adorable and by Christmas morning Roku‘s bed is inside, in the corner next to the front door

> I looked up typical dog names in Japan and found that it‘s usual to name dogs numbers depending on their litter size and it felt very appropriate for Kita to do that (Roku means six)

> when you mention that you miss certain veggies from your home country that are not readily available in Japan Kita goes out of his way to grow them for you in his greenhouse

> Kita continues to run his farm successfully while you spend your days helping out around town with whatever necessary 

someone called in sick at the bookstore? They call you to jump in

they need help organizing a school festival? They know you have the best ideas

one of the grannies wants to paint her bedroom pink? She knows who to call

these little odd jobs fulfill you so much more than any office ever did and Kita is so ridiculously proud of how fast you became such an integral part of his community

> he proposes to you with those little wild tulips

> (I chose these plants because a) I wanted a small wildflower native to Japan and b) white tulips symbolize purity, innocence and respect, plus these particular flowers (tulipa edulis) are said to have an effect of vigor - imo that just fit perfectly because as I said before, once Kita has you, he is insatiable)

[shiny-crocodile]

the best person i've ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10

CHAPTER 8

chapter summary: doctors and dress up

chapter notes: got a certain request (many many times) for something to happen again, so here you go x

smut

The next day was not what either of them particularly wanted out of their one day off together in London.

Lucy had a whole plan to visit some markets, followed by a fancy dinner but instead they were forced to spend it in a hospital waiting room with Tesco meal deals, accompanied by Peter the Barça physio.

After last nights conversations, Lucy and Ona had their first “girlfriend reveal” trial run with Peter. Lucy peered over to him after the younger girl pecked her on the lips before making her way to the vending machine for more snacks. Peter barely bat an eyelid.

As Lucy’s name was finally called after an hour of waiting, she hobbled after the doctor on her newly acquired crutches, leaving Ona behind for this solo trip to the scanners.

“Break a leg!” Ona called after her, making the older girl laugh, calming her nerves massively. You never quite got used to the overwhelming feeling of dread going in for scans.

As they expected, the news wasn’t good. Ona squeezing Lucy’s hand reassuringly as they were told Lucy would need to have surgery and that the success of the surgery would determine the length of the recovery period.

The World Cup was in 2 months and a potential Champions League final was in 1 month, an incredibly tight turnaround, which everyone in the room was hyper aware of.

After making a few phone calls, Peter returned to offer up some options for next steps.

“So where do you want the surgery?” Peter asked.

“Her knee preferably,” Ona joked, both girls cracking up but Peter staying stern faced.

“Sorry, she’s full of jokes today, what do you mean?” Lucy asked, hand stroking Ona’s leg.

“Well we have great doctors in a number of places where you can have the surgery, as long as you are back in Barcelona in one week for rehab,” Peter explained, “the UK? Spain?“

Lucy looked to Ona before answering, who nodded, the two communicating with looks alone. “Manchester?” Lucy asked, turning back to Peter.

“Sure,” he said, standing up to make more phone calls.

“Nurse Batlle, at your service. This is going to be fun!” Ona said, weirdly excited at the thought of doting on Lucy.

Lucy sighed, not sharing the excitement, but she could think of one concilation, “as long as you dress the part I won’t complain.”

////

A couple of days passed, Ona was pacing up and down the corridor after giving Lucy all the good luck kisses before she was wheeled off.

Using the hospital as her runway for heavy footed nervousness, she quickly started to annoy the hospital staff.

“Well fancy seeing you here,” Ona heard from behind her while mid-pace.

“Staniiiii,” Ona exclaimed as she threw herself into her friend’s arms.

The pair hadn’t seen as much of each other since Lucy moved from Man U to Villa, and as the person who helped Ona settle into the UK, the Spaniard was beyond thrilled to see her again.

“Did Lucy call you?” Ona asked, slightly surprised as when Ona had offered to call her mum, she said she didn’t want to be around anyone like this, so it was unusual if she was actively reaching out to friends.

“Yeah but I am under strict instructions to only be here when the surgery was happening,” Lucy said, guiding Ona back into the hospital room and into one of the chairs. “Wanted me to keep you company and stop you worrying. Clearly it was needed with you pacing the halls like a madman.”

It was definitely needed and Ona felt instantly calmer having this distraction, coupled with the warmth of knowing Lucy was thinking of her while preparing for surgery, responding, “she knows me too well.”

Time passed much faster now Ona had someone to talk to and catch up with, loving that she also had someone she could talk to about Lucy seen as though the other Lucy was the one person who knew everything about their relationship.

Lucy S couldn’t help but notice the difference in Ona from a few months ago, especially her need to mention the english right back every 5 seconds now.

“You really like her, hey?” Lucy asked. She knew how much her best friend liked the Spaniard, but she hadn’t really gotten to see the other side until now.

Ona nodded shyly, “big time. It’s honestly kind of terrifying.”

The younger girl received an understanding stroke of the arm, “of course it is. It’s always scary opening yourself up to someone. But it’s always amazing and rewarding, and honestly, I’m biased because she’s one of my favourite people but there’s truly no one better to let yourself fall for than Lucy.”

Ona couldn’t stop from grinning. Her friend always had a way with words and hearing her talk about Lucy like that was everything.

“Oh apart from my wife,” Lucy corrected, both girls breaking into laughter.

//

A couple hours later, with the surgery done and dusted, Lucy was wheeled back into the room, completely out of it and packed full of drugs.

“Stanniiiiiiiii!” Lucy slurred as she saw her best friend. “What you doing here?”

The Villa player moved over to the side of the bed, squeezing Lucy’s hand while laughing slightly at the state she was in.

“You called me you donut.”

“Oh yeah,” Lucy said, letting out a high pitched giggle that no one in the room had heard before. “You look after Ona?”

“I did, she’s all good,” her best friend said. “How are you feeling?”

Lucy was too out of it to even notice that Ona was actually in the room, who stood out of the way, chuckling away as she gave the old friends a minute.

“Gooooooood, it’s a shame we’re athletes because drugs are so good!” Lucy slurred out, earning a laugh from everyone in the room including the nurse.

Lucy was starting to drift off now to sleep, but not before dragging out, “thank you for looking after, you’re the best friend. I really love her and I love you for your matching. I love…”

Lucy was gone to the world, the surgery and the drugs making her so tired she closed her eyes and instantly started lightly snoring.

Lucy S turned round to look at a blushing Ona. “She’s not said that to you before has she?”

The younger girl could only shake her head. She knew Lucy was drugged up but she still couldn’t help having a lump in her throat at the older girl’s confession. She made her way over to the bed before placing a soft kiss on her girlfriend’s temple.

“Naw,” Lucy S said, “well I’m off before this gets even soppier.”

The Villa player spun around, grabbing her bag and cheek kissing the Spaniard goodbye.

“Blowing my own trumpet here, but you’re very good together. Look after my girl and let her know I’ll message tomorrow,” Lucy said before both girls blew a kiss to each other and parted.

The younger girl gently shifted her Lucy onto her side to stop the snoring, before sliding in behind the taller girl on the bed, taking the role of big spoon for once.

Mouth near Lucy’s ear, she whispered, “I love you too,” knowing that Lucy wouldn’t hear or even register it. She placed a kiss behind the older girl’s ear before closing her eyes to nap with her girlfriend.

////

“Oh my god? What are you wearing?”

Lucy had been discharged from the hospital and was now resting up at Ona’s. She had to be back in Barcelona tomorrow for rehab, which she was absolutely dreading, knowing the short turnaround between now and the UWCL final, and then the World Cup.

But she wouldn’t let her mind worry about that now. Not when she was faced with the stunning sight of Ona in a full nurses outfit.

“Are they blood splatters?” Lucy asked, unable to stop herself from laughing.

“Shut up, it’s from Halloween,” Ona said, strutting further into the room. “Now stop laughing, I’m trying to be sexy.”

“Oh baby you don’t need to try,” Lucy said, heart racing as she tried to compose herself, sitting more upright in the bed to fully take this in.

The white and fake blood splattered cropped top showed off her abs perfectly, while the low v was always going to be what Lucy’s eyes were drawn to, Ona’s nipples poking through the fabric.

Ona did her best sultry strut as she flicked her hips, Lucy’s eyes now fixed on her upper thighs every time the skirt flicked up, making it abundantly clear the younger girl wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Lucy clenched the bed sheets to combat the throbbing between her legs.

“Oh Mrs Bronze, you look like you need some assistance.”

Lucy cringed, much to the confusion and offence of Ona. “My mum’s a teacher, let’s not do Mrs.”

“Ah sorry,” Ona said before getting back in the zone.

“Señorita, you look like you need some assistance,” Ona said, the lip bite from Lucy showing her she was on the right track.

The older girl was getting wet at the show being put on for her, Ona sexily throwing off her nurses cap before slowly crawling up the bed towards Lucy.

“Wait,” Lucy said as the younger girl started pulling off her shorts, “you’ve looked after me enough, let me look after you.”

“Oh cari, you’re going to do more than just look after me,” Ona said, biting her lip with a look Lucy knew all too well.

It was the look Ona gave her when she was about to do her favourite thing to Lucy. Ever since the first time she found out Lucy never did it, she’s taken so much pleasure out of achieving it every single time she tried…

Shorts discarded, Lucy laid back, giving up before the Spaniard had even started.

Ona attached her mouth to the side of Lucy’s pelvis, drawing her first moan out of the older girl as she made a mark.

Sufficiently bruised, Ona lifted her head to look at Lucy, “hey, think you’re gonna want to watch this.”

Lucy did as she was told, pushing herself up, and Ona wasn’t wrong.

The younger girl had her arse pushed into the air, skirt no longer covering her now exposed cheeks.

Ona intently watched Lucy get more soaked at the site of her.

“Now keep watching,” Ona said, before taking her first lick up Lucy’s folds, humming a moan into the older girl’s centre that only made her wetter.

The English girl could barely compute what she was watching, the Spaniard’s naked bum bouncing up and down as she devoured Lucy.

If she could, she would have grabbed handfuls of her cheeks, but instead had to settle for handfuls of hair.

She could have come at the sight alone, but her girlfriend was going to drag this out until she knew the English girl was ready to give her what she wanted.

“Please,” Lucy cried out, so loud that Ona jerked her head up in worry.

The sight of Lucy only spurred the younger girl on. The older girl’s face and chest dripping with sweat, as Ona dealt with the dripping pussy.

She knew Lucy was ready.

Two fingers were inserted at once, quickly followed by a third to get the most insane scream from Lucy.

Ona didn’t even know a noise like that was possible from her girlfriend.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna squirt,” Lucy said coming undone, Ona sucking on her clit but not removing her fingers to drink up the juices like she usually would.

“Ona?” the English girl managed to utter out, the fucking of her pussy and sucking of her clit not relenting.

“Again,” Ona growled, and like clockwork, Lucy squirted, but Ona still wasn’t lapping it up.

The Spaniard removed her fingers, drawing a moan as she spread the girl’s legs further apart, allowing herself even more room at Lucy’s pussy.

“Once more,” Ona instructed, pulling Lucy’s incredibly lips apart with her fingers to expose the girl’s sensitive clit.

“I can’t,” Lucy moaned as the cold air ran over her.

As if she hadn’t heard her, the Spaniard attached her lips to Lucy’s clit, giving it one last sharp suck as everything left in Lucy gushed out, Ona doing the lapping now, tears in her eyes at her own state of bliss.

“My girl,” Ona cooed, looking up at her destroyed girlfriend, “there is nothing I love more than that.”

“Come here,” Lucy said between breaths, leaning forward to pull Ona in by the stethoscope hanging round her neck, pulling her into a searing kiss.

Tongues exploring each other’s mouths as Lucy tasted herself.

Without needing to detach herself, Lucy used her strength to turn both girl’s onto their sides.

After days of barely moving, she clearly still had a lot of energy to use up.

The Spaniard, seeing Lucy could take even more, slipped her hand back down between Lucy’s legs, brushing over her tender entrance before easily pushing two fingers inside her.

But Lucy was determined to touch Ona now, not wanting this to be all about herself.

She mirrored Ona’s movements, drifting her hand under the nurse’s skirt where there was no barrier stopping her gliding her fingers between Ona’s folds.

Catching the Spaniard totally by surprise, both girls moaned in unison as Lucy followed in entering Ona, starting slower with just the one finger but both girls knuckles deep.

“Fuck Lucy!” Ona screamed out, struggling to focus on fucking Lucy while there were now two strong fingers pumping in and out of her, but she was nothing if not determined.

They copied everything each other did, while staring deep into each others eyes.

As Lucy curved her fingers to hit Ona’s G spot, the younger girl did the same.

As Ona brushed her thumb around Lucy’s clit, the English girl did the same.

Watching each other’s blissed out face made everything 10 times more intense, every moan 10 times deeper and their approach towards their peaks 10 times faster.

“Oh my god,” Ona moaned, feeling things she’d never felt before from the dual rush of fucking Lucy while being fucked. She was struggling to keep up the pace of her pumping while hurtling towards her own peak after being so worked up from the squirt show, “I can’t.”

“It’s ok. I’ve got you bonita,” Lucy said, more than happy to help Ona first, but neither girl was going to slow down.

“I love you,” Lucy let out, managing somehow to say it softly despite the cacophony of moans escaping both their mouths.

“I love you too,” Ona said, not quite as gently as both girls crashed through their ceilings, orgasms taking over at the exact same time.

They panted, both exhausted, with the come down accompanied by soft kisses and whimpers, before they slowly removed their hands.

Still facing each other, they both just lay there gazing at each other. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, neither girl knew as they got completely lost in each others eyes.

“You said that in the hospital, you know?” Ona said softly, not breaking eye contact.

“Said what?”

“That you loved me,” Ona revealed, “when you were drugged up after the surgery.”

Lucy went red in the cheeks, obviously having zero recollection of that conversation. Now thinking of anything else embarrassing she might have said or done.

Ona could see the concern in her eyes, “don’t worry. It was very sweet. You are very sweet.”

The older girl leaned in to kiss her softly, eye contact breaking temporarily as they closed fluttered closed.

“Although you did say it to Stani straight after which kind of killed it slightly.”

Both girls broke into laughter, still perfectly in sync.

“Oh god, was she there? That would explain all the heart and vomit emojis she keeps sending me.”

Ona traced Lucy’s wide smile with her thumb.

“I love this smile.”

Lucy brought a hand up to do the same.

“Not as much as I love this smile, and this nose, and these eyes, and this chin,” the older girl said, brushing her digits over each part of Ona’s face as she declared her love for it.

As they went back to gazing at each other, before their staring competition was interrupted by a vibration, prompting both girls to peer over to Lucy’s phone, all lit up.

Lucy S - 🤮 💚

“It’s like she can hear us,” Ona said, turning around and pushing her back up into Lucy’s front, melting into the warmth of the girl she loved.

///

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

everybody’s goin’ off the deep end (s.h. x reader)

A/N: Long time no see! I wrote this in the midst of Steve Harrington brain rot, I hope you enjoy! If you prefer, you can find it here on Ao3!

Summary: Your life has always been simple. Not necessarily easy, but simple. You know your way around the world you live in. You love your dad, your friends and your exceedingly nerdy babysitting charges. When you’re assigned to be Steve Harrington’s tutor because he is one step away from being kicked off the basketball team, you can feel things beginning to shift in your small town. And that’s just the beginning.

Friday, November  4, 1983

“I think it’s time we admit that this is hopeless.” Steve Harrington looked positively morose, hunched over his Hawkins High School issued copy of Macbeth for the third Friday in a row.

You did your best not to laugh, but he just looked so ridiculous leaning back in his chair far enough that the front legs rise off the ground, shoulders slumped and pencil tapping against the table rapidly. “It’s been ten minutes, and we’ve only made it through two pages.” If you hadn’t been anticipating the slam of the front two chair legs on the floor, you would have jumped out of your seat. You had several times in the past few weeks, even. 

But by now, you had the routine down. For the first fifteen minutes, Steve would joke and grumble, hoping that you would offer to cut your session short. Had he been assigned any other mandatory tutor during the meeting with Ms. Chen, the school counselor, and two out of three of his basketball coaches, he would have had a shot. But you’d had one too many reluctant students stuck in front of you at a library table in your time to give in to his whining. 

“Exactly!” He tapped his pen against the copy of Macbeth in front of him on the desk, accentuating his point. “Two pages in ten minutes is a horrible track record!” His eyebrows drew together, as they always did when he was particularly pouty. “Besides, Mrs. Brown already spoiled the whole thing.” You raised your eyebrow, continuing to make notes in your already  extensively annotated copy. “Calling it a tragedy in class kind of ruins the ending, you know?” You missed the way Steve’s eyes sparkled as you threw your head back in laughter. 

“That’s just the type of play, Steve. There’s comedies, tragedies, like Macbeth, and histories.” You glanced over to see Steve slumped over the table, his cheek resting on his hand. “It might be helpful to write that down.” He blinked, seemingly confused for a moment. “For the test?”

“There’s going to be a test?” Steve looked mournful. 

“I know that Mrs. Brown went over the syllabus on the first day of class. And there have definitely been tests over the other two books so far. What do you mean what test?” You looked up from your folder, where you had been shuffling through past syllabi to find a lopsided smirk on Steve’s face. “You can’t do that, Steve!”

“I’m offended you bought that! You know I’m taking this seriously.” He looked slightly sheepish at the realization you might not believe him. You took a moment to consider. You’d started studying together a few months ago, and Steve had been remarkably punctual, and had yet to cancel a session. He’d only forgotten to bring his work once and remained apologetic the whole session, even when you’d reassured him that it was fine. You’d spent the hour hunched over your notes with him beside you, you providing insight into the short story from class while Steve did his best to make you laugh. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” 

Steve’s eyes grew wide, mock astonishment clear on his face. “An apology?” 

“Oh my god, shut up, Harrington.” You playfully roll your eyes, before sliding your own copy of Macbeth towards him. “Trade me.” 

Steve glanced down at your copy, grinning. “Do they know you’re defacing school property, Ms. Clarke? I’m not sure that your father would approve.”

“My dad spends all day trying to convince middle schoolers to retain information about layers of the Earth’s crust. He’d just be glad I am taking an interest in an academic pursuit.” 

“Even if it’s English?” 

You smile to yourself, remembering the year you had to admit to your dad that your Science grade was not what it should be. You’d built being that daughter of Scott Clarke, science enthusiast and Earth and Biology Teacher extraordinaire of Hawkins Middle, up in your mind to be a heavy burden to bear. You’d been so afraid to hand your report card over, but he’d diligently ignored your C- and instead waxed poetic about your perfect English score. “Finally, someone to round out the knowledge base in this house!” He’d beamed and loaded you into the car for ice cream with an urgency unbecoming of the situation. 

“Especially if it’s English.” You leaned over the table, quickly finding where you and Steve had left off in your copy and pointing it out to Steve. “Start there, let’s try again.” You made it through the next two scenes, with only minor detours, usually when Steve found one of your annotations particularly amusing. 

The door to the library squeaked open, breaking your focus. Nancy and Barb hurried over to your table, crowding around your study materials. “Macbeth cannot possibly be so interesting that you forgot we had plans.” Nancy joked, Steve’s arm settled over the back of the chair. Nancy insisted it ‘wasn’t anything serious’ but you caught them making moon eyes at each other the last few times that your tutoring sessions ran over, and you could have sworn that last week he slipped his number into her notebook when he thought no one was looking. 

You glanced up at the clock, cringing internally when you realized you were, in fact, fifteen minutes late to meeting your best friends in the parking lot. Across the table, Steve let out a heavy sigh. “We were a little too into the ghost of Banquo in here.” 

Barb gave Steve a weird look. You were almost sure that she was going to say something, her eyebrow was quirking up in the way it usually does when she is about to be snarky, but the moment passed, somewhat awkwardly, but passed all the same. “I’ll see you next week, Steve.” You stood up from your chair,  Nancy and Barb following your lead. Steve started to slide your copy of Macbeth back to you across the table. “Keep it, maybe you can get through a few chapters on your own before I see you again.” 

“You firing me, Clarke?” 

“I don’t think I have the power to fire you from mandatory tutoring, Harrington.” 

Steve gifted you a rarity, one of his genuine smiles that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly before standing up and heading for the library doors. “See you on Monday, Ladies!” He offered the three of you a joking salute and a wink before heading for the parking lot. 

“Doesn’t he know we are all going the same way?” Barb said, breaking the silence of the library. The three of you dissolved into giggles, and you took your time packing your book bag, not not in the hopes that you would avoid running into Steve again in the parking lot. As much as you loved Nancy, it was almost painful for you and Barb to watch her try to keep whatever is going on with her and Steve from the two of you.

______________________________________________________________

“What about this?” Nancy held up a pink blouse off the rack, eyebrows raised. 

“It’s nice, Nance, but I just can’t understand the urgency.” You laughed. The three of you’d had plans to head to Benny’s for milkshakes, as you did every Friday, but on the way Nancy had begged to stop at Pam’s, the clothing store downtown. Reluctantly, you’d parked your dad’s car out front and let her drag the two of you inside. Nancy ducked her head, blush taking over her cheeks as she put the shirt back. Her dismissive muttering could barely be heard over the store’s speakers, blaring the new Cyndi Lauper single. 

“Oh come on, Nance.” Barb rolled her eyes, snatching the blouse off the rack again. Nancy’s eyes were wide as her head snapped up to meet Barb’s gaze. “You are horrible at this. Just tell us what’s going on with Steve!”

Nancy grabbed for the shirt, but Barb was holding it over her head while you did your best to hold in your laughter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Nancy grabbed for the shirt, looking back at you over her shoulder clearly asking for help. All you could do was shrug. 

“We saw him put his number in your notebook, and the last two times I called your line was busy! It’s never busy!” Nancy’s blush was creeping down her neck. She gave up the fight for the blouse, looking at you accusatorially. Another shrug, and a nod had her looking like she was going to stomp her foot. 

“I just-“ she paused, taking a deep breath “I need to make sure that Steve Harrington isn’t going to steal both of my friends.” 

“Barb what are you talking about?” On some level, you could understand why she was worried about Nancy. It wasn’t typical for the three of you to have secrets. But you’d tutored countless people, or joined different after school activities, and she’d never worried about the state of your friendship before. 

Barb hesitated, suddenly looking ashamed. “Nothing, it’s-” she dropped the hanger back on the rack, her hands twisting together nervously. “It’s nothing, swear.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. You and Nancy shared a look, not entirely convinced. 

Without a word, the two of you wrapped your arms around Barb sandwiching her between the two of you as you had done since preschool whenever someone was having a hard day. It had been a while since you’d had reason for a best friend sandwich, but when Barb wrapped her arms around the both of you, leaning her head on top of Nancy’s, you knew you’d made the right choice. “You should get the shirt, Nance. I think Steve will really like it.” Your voice came out muffled, and you couldn’t see Nancy’s face because it was smushed into your arm, but you would have sworn that you felt her smile.

______________________________________________________________________________

You pulled into the Hawkins Middle parking lot doing your best to keep your smile from turning into a grimace. Nancy had been stuck debating between two options at Pam’s for a solid twenty minutes, and after Barb’s minor breakdown, you hadn’t felt it was the time to rush anyone. You threw the car into park and barely managed to stop yourself from sprinting as you headed for your dad’s classroom. The tension left your chest when you heard the screaming from down the hall. In any other situation it would have had the opposite effect, but hearing the AV Club chattering away meant that even if you were running late, your dad is running later. 

“Like I said boys, it should be here next week but there is just no telling for sure.” Your dad had run the Hawkins Middle AV Club for as long as you could remember, but he had never had such an enthusiastic membership. In years past, you’d stop by a meeting or two after outgrowing the appropriate age for club participation, but you’d babysat for a few of the kids before, and you had a special soft spot for them. The unanimous, synchronized exclamations of “Bea!” as you rounded the corner led you to believe the feelings were mutual. 

Bea was a nickname that had pulled double duty since you were little. Bea, as in short for Beatrice, your middle name after your grandmother who had passed long before your arrival, and Bea as in bumble bee. You were a Bea to everyone, but when your dad used the name, you both knew the difference. You gave everyone a warm smile and a small wave, plopping down in a desk close to the door. 

“As soon as it comes in, you all will be the first to know.” 

“And the only ones to care.” Mike muttered, causing you to hid your smile behind your hand, in an effort not to encourage them. The boys almost instantly began to speak over one another, calling dibs on who got the first go, where they should call first. Your dad gave you a smile that said ‘there’s nothing I can do about this’. 

You coughed a few times, gaining the boys’ attention. “You guys do know you are cutting it close if you want to be somewhere with cable, so you can catch the new episode of that Dungeons and Dragons show. It comes out on Fridays, right?” The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, before they started hastily shoving books into backpacks and tearing out of the room. You stuck your head out of the doorway, calling after the boys to remind them you would see them at the Wheeler’s on Sunday. You were planning on studying for your chemistry test with Nancy. You had probably fifty vocab words to make flashcards for, not to mention the equations and elements you needed to know for your test next week. They waved without turning around before sprinting out the doors of the school. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Sunday, November 6, 1983

You’d been able to hear the boys screaming in the basement from your spot on Nancy’s bed for the last few hours. You had a rare weekend off from babysitting, as most of your regulars were currently 9 hours deep into a Dungeons and Dragons campaign in the Wheeler’s basement. Weekends without a babysitting gig were more frequent now that the boys were old enough to bike home from school alone. You would watch Lucas’s little sister on occasion, and Holly more regularly, but it was far more common to end up at the Wheeler’s with Nancy for a while and then offer give the boys a ride home. They would take you up on it if the weather is bad but more often than not, they preferred to race home. 

You and Nancy had been pretending to study for the same amount of time. You’d arrived with the best of intentions, your bag heavy with notecards and textbooks, but Nancy had a new copy of Tiger Beat, and then she’d launched into an hours-long grievance against Steve having yet to take her on a real date. Apparently, grabbing a milkshake after school didn’t count, “we do that all the time anyways”, and a makeout session in his care was not cutting it either, “besides it was only like, one time”. Ever since Barb had weaseled the confession out of her at Pam’s, it was like the dam was broken. You’d managed to corral her into focusing on studying for all of ten minutes  while you secretly contemplated if it was over stepping to bully him into just asking her to go steady if it meant you got your study partner back, when her new blue phone started ringing on her bedside table. She popped up to answer it, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You’d made double the note cards she had and you still had two chapters to go. You’d largely tuned her out until you heard Steve’s name. 

Your eyes snapped to Nancy’s, a blush already having taken over a vast majority of her face. You heard some murmuring from your spot across the bed, but nothing that you could make out clearly. Maybe he was finally working up the nerve to invite her on a proper date. Her shoulders deflated, and the blush was quickly receding from her face when she looked at you. Without a word, she held the phone out to you. 

You frantically shook your head, she shoved the phone farther across the bed, causing the base to tumble onto the floor, pulling the handset out of her grasp with it. You both scrambled for the phone but Nancy was quicker, snatching it off of the floor and holding it up to your ear. “Hello?” You asked, wincing when your voice came out squeakier than you were used to. 

“Hi, I, uh, I called the number you gave me but your dad answered. Said you’d be here.” Steve sounded almost bashful, which was not something you were used to hearing from him. 

“Did my dad say something to you?” Nancy leaned her head closer to the receiver, and you adjusted to make more room for her. 

“Just that learning is a voracious and exciting river, and you have to give yourself over to the current, or something.” Nancy started to giggle, you gently shoved her back against her pillows. 

“Yeah, that sounds like him. Did you,” you pause, struggling to sound less surprised than you were, “need something, Harrington?” 

“I just,” he paused, and you could almost see the way his gaze gets stuck on the ceiling while he tries to work up the nerve to say something he is worried will make him sound stupid. “I needed to know what was up with Lady Macbeth’s weird bloodstain monologue. All you had in the margins was that she was ‘wickedly fucked’. Don’t get me wrong, you’re right, I think anyway, but why is she so crazy all of a sudden.” 

You sighed. You’d given him your number after he’d canceled a session during lunch after you and your dad had already arranged the car schedule one too many times, and begged him to call if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it as soon as he could. It wasn’t exactly for study emergencies, not that you had ever really expected Steve Harrington to have one. “She and Macbeth have swapped how they were at the beginning. Remember how you said he was being a bitch and she was a badass for plotting Duncan’s murder?” You could hear his hair rustling against the speaker, and you could picture him nodding through the phone. It didn’t seem like the time to remind him there was no possible way you could see him. “Well, now she is regretting rushing in and being brash, and he has fully accepted what the witches said at the beginning.” “That it’s his destiny to be the king?” “Yep, you’ve got it. The whole thing is about how power and ambition is corrupting.” More rustling. “Steve, are you nearly done with the play?” “I finished it, that one part was bugging me that’s all.” 

“You finished it?!” You winced at the surprise that was clear in your voice. Nancy had not looked this confused since the time you told her the boy’s campaign had actually been interesting the last time you watched them as a group after Joyce got called in for a last minute shift, and Jonathan had photography club, rendering him unavailable. You shrugged, not sure how to explain it. 

“Your notes were really helpful, and funny. I didn’t mean to but, yeah.” 

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” 

“I just, you said that reading Macbeth was worse than taking sandpaper to your eyes.” He’d looked like Mike when he was ten and realized that you had tricked him into finishing the steamed broccoli his mother had left for dinner, the picture of theatrical disgust. 

“I said your notes made it better, didn’t I?” 

You blinked a few times as Nancy scooched back to your side. “Well, I guess we will have a lot to talk about on Monday, then.” “Yeah, yeah. Um, tell Nancy to have a good night.” He went silent for a moment, and you searched for the right words. “And you too.” He added, derailing your train of thought. 

“Sure, Steve, goodnight.” You placed the phone back on the base as if it were a live bomb. “What was that?” 

“What do you mean what was that? You’re the one he was calling!”  

You gasped. “If one of us is more accustomed to receiving phone calls from Steve Harrington, it’s going to be you!” 

Nancy rolled her eyes, a signal as clear as ever that she was gearing up for what she liked to call a lively discussion, and you hated to admit was an argument. Before she could, the phone rang again. You held your breath, preparing to hear Steve’s voice through the phone. Thankfully, it was Barb calling to ask if Nancy needed a ride to school tomorrow, she did, and if they had been studying for Kaminsky’s test, sort of. The conversation quickly devolved into talking about Steve after Barb asked if Nancy had heard from him. Nancy was recounting the awkward conversation you’d just finished and you were doing your best not to help when there was a knock on the door frame. 

You glance up to see Dustin standing at the threshold of Nancy’s room, holding a pizza box. He shook it enthusiastically. “There’ two slices left if you want ‘em, sausage and pepperoni!” 

You are about to nod enthusiastically when Nancy tells Barb to hold on. She leaves the phone on the bed and shuts the door in Dustin’s face. “Nance!” You frown at her, and you’re off the bed and out the door before she can respond. “Dusty, wait up!” You call when you get to the top of the stairs, catching a glimpse of his hat disappearing around the corner. You find him in the kitchen, depositing the pizza box on the counter. “Did you finish the campaign?” 

“Nah, we just got to the fight with the-”

“With the demogorgon? Mike was telling me about it when I was here watching Holly last week. He seemed pleased with the planning.” Dustin shrugged, looking unusually gloomy. “Is this about Nancy?” Another shrug. You throw an arm around his shoulders, walking him to the backdoor. “She didn’t mean it, she’s having a weird night.” 

“Seems like she’s been having a weird year.” He mumbled, pulling the door and stepping outside. “There’s something wrong with your sister,” he announced, making his way over to his bike, where it sat in the Wheeler’s garage. 

“What are you talking about?” Mike huffed, exasperated. 

Lucas was quick to chime in. “Yeah, it’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” His gaze shifted to you, looking guilty. 

You held your hands up in the air in surrender. “Don’t look at me, I’m just trying to keep him from getting kicked off the basketball team on account of his English grade.” A touch of mirth made it’s way into your eyes. “Didn’t you hear, we might actually have a shot at State this year.” The boys dissolved into giggles, kicking up the stands on their bikes, fully aware that you had never the willpower to know anything about the school’s sports teams. 

“The day that you care about the basketball team is the day that Will rolls two nat twenties in a row.” Lucas laughed. Will was a notoriously bad roller. 

You ruffled Will’s hair, discreetly checking to make sure all of the boys had their bags and the flashlights on their bikes turned on. You’d been called late at night over forgotten homework one enough that you did your best to confirm they had anything before they got too far down the street. Lucas rolled his eyes. “We have everything mom.” The rest of the boys shook with laughter. 

“Let’s see how you feel being woken up at eleven o’clock over missing math homework, and then we can talk. Are you sure you guys wouldn’t rather have a ride home?” The boys shook their heads in unison, rebuffing you when you asked fi they were sure.

They confirmed one more time that you had no updates about the new radio your dad had ordered for the AV club, before beginning to pedal away. “Be safe, boys!” You called, stepping inside, leaving Lucas and Dustin’s unified “We will!” And the sounds of Mike and Will talking softly drifting in from the garage behind you. 

You quickly said your goodbyes to Mr. And Mrs. Wheeler, stuck your head in to say goodnight to Nancy and gave Holly a hug before heading out to your car. By the time you got home, your dad was in bed, a note on the fridge reminding you about your early wake up time for tomorrow, so that he could be at Hawkins’ Middle to receive a package. You were thoroughly tired by the time that your head hit the pillow, but somehow, a pit had formed in the bottom of your stomach. It wasn’t often you tossed and turned, but when you did, you were an old pro. You lasted fifteen minutes before crawling out of bed and setting yourself up on the couch, a cup of tea and a worn old copy of A Wrinkle in Time your dad acquired in high school. It was your favorite bedtime story growing up and it usually did the trick even now. You read until your eyes got heavy and your tea grew cold, before dragging yourself back to bed in the hopes of feeling more like a well rested, responsible, functioning human in the morning. If you were being honest, the chances of that were slim. 

next chapter

[klausysworld]

Any chance of something With Klaus and reader, where reader is worried about how much time Klaus and Cami spend together, but Klaus plus everyone tells her not to worry. It their anniversary and reader is all ready for the night out that Klaus has planned but Klaus doesn’t show and comes home to find reader asleep on their bed still dressed in her gorgeous dress it then he remembers their anniversary.

You were with Cami

Pt 2

For weeks i had listened to the entire Mikaelson family had been persuading me that Klaus was loyal and would never do anything to harm me.

See he’d been spending the majority of his time with his new friend Camille, i’ve met her a few times and she’s so unbelievably nice. Like she’s polite, smiles, gives her perfect opinions and makes everything laugh. And just to top it off she likes me, decided we should be friends too. We even went out for lunch. She’s lovely. I would want her too. And i hate her for that.

It’s wrong to be mad at her but she must know that she’s some what harming mine and Klaus’s relationship. You can’t be giggling at every little thing he says with your hand on his bicep without knowing that you’re flirting.

One time she kissed his cheek right in front of me, she gave me such a kind smile i would have looked like a dick if i didn’t return it. When i brought it up to Klaus he told me i was being dramatic and needed to ‘calm down’

Somehow i’m not allowed to talk to a single being of the male community but if i get upset over him dancing with a gorgeous blond then i’m being jealous and pathetic. I thought at least Elijah would back me up being the ‘feminist’ he says he is but noooo “Niklaus loves you y/n, you’re imagining things. You’re hid redemption and you can’t be thinking silly things, it will ruin your relationship”

Well bet they weren’t prepared for me storming through the compound in a very expensive body con dress. One i had spent hours choosing so that my own boyfriend or whatever he was meant to be would notice me

See he had asked me to meet him at this restaurant and let me just say it was nice restaurant with a lot of snobs sat in it. Lets imagine the immense embarrassment i felt when i sat waiting at a table for over 4 hours. Thankfully the waiter was sympathetic and felt bad so he gave me some free drinks. I actually ended up having a pretty good chat with him, his fiancé had left him a week before their wedding, i think we both cried a little too much and the people in there did not like us.

Once the place closed i came back to the compound and the second i stepped foot inside it seemed to hit me again. He left me alone, no text, no call, no excuses. I was holding together until the other Mikaelsons came into view and Rebekah just had to mention him

“where’s Nik? i thought you two would’ve been back ages ago”

and i burst into tears. I saw the panic in all their faces as they quickly went to comfort me. Rebekah wrapped her arm around me and Kol took my hand but i shoved both of them off

“no! none of you get to pretend you care anymore, you all knew didn’t you? you knew he was with her, knew he wouldn’t come to be with me because why would he anymore!? And i swear if anyone of you says that i make him a better person i think i might just scream, i am not his redemption and i don’t mean anything to him anymore, your entire family is one big lie, you’re all liars and i hate all of you, i’m staying the night and that’s only because i have drank way too much to be driving but i don’t want any of you saying goodbye because i will be gone by the time you wake up and yes Elijah i know you get up fucking early” half of my words were definitely slurred but i think the message was clear regardless as i made my way upstairs and collapsed on Klaus and i’s bed. The bed that i thought we would both come back to, instead i was cold, alone and drunk.

———————————————————————

(third person)

Klaus had just got home to three nervous siblings. Elijah was pacing the length of the living area while Kol chugged his scotch and Rebekah chewed at her once perfectly manicured nails. Klaus narrowed his eyes as they all froze upon his arrival

“who did something stupid?” he asked with a sigh and Kol hesitantly raised his hand

“don’t dagger me but um i think you did…”

“what?”

“i’d check upstairs if i were you”

and so he did

Klaus turned the light on only to find his love curled up in a beautiful tight dress and a tear stained face. It took him a minute before he finally realised what had happened

“no no no no” he whispered as he lifted her passed out body, the smell of alcohol was strong as he held her in his arms

“oh my love, please forgive me” he uttered as he peppered her face with kisses

“i’m so sorry” he told her despite her unconscious state.

“you look so gorgeous sweetheart, you look like an angel” he whispered rocking her gently

“i’m going to make this all up to you when you wake up, i promise you y/n, i love you so so much” he carefully removed her dress and slipped one of his shirts onto her, he wiped her once flawless makeup off of her face

“i’m so sorry” he repeated continuously while getting her ready, slipping her heels from her feet and taking out her elegantly styled hair before brushing it through and plaiting it for her. He didn’t bother changing his clothes as he got into bed and held her as close to him as he could

“i’m so sorry i wasn’t with you”

“you were with Cami” she tiredly uttered, still pretty much unconscious though that didn’t stop the flow of tears in her sleep. His heart hurt as he heard her broken voice

“i’ll never speak to her again, i’ll never see her again” he promised both her and himself

“i love you” he muttered kissing her lips softly

[keelt9]

Chapter 4

Masterlist

Breathless with my legs shaking every step, isn’t how I picture myself arriving in Barcelona, that’s what happened when you lost a flight last night. Thomas came with me to check apartments, with his clinic eye, after all, he’s an amazing architect.

I believed if I woke up early in the dawn, I arrived at the perfect time at the airport. I didn’t anticipate that multiple factors could ruin my plan, so I missed the flight; spending 3 hours at the airport waiting for another flight to Barcelona. 

Here I asked for a cab to drive faster to the hotel to leave my bags, but the receptionist took 20 minutes making my reservation, obligating me to get stuck in the traffic 30 minutes before the race started. I have one option, run.

When I arrive at the paddock the drivers are walking to the garage talking with their staff; Mercedes hospitality was the second-to-last building.

One of the PR girls, when she saw me almost with a lung out, giggled and screamed getting out of the building. “He’s already in the garage!”

You must be kidding me. I thank her running back, crashing with people avoiding a fall. 

All was worth it because I arrived when Lewis was about to put his helmet on. The drivers are already putting them on too, gloves, even some of them inside of his cars.

I jumped on his back, taking him by surprise. “Oh my lord.” He saw me when turn his head. “Why don't you pick up your phone?”

I get down and show it to him. “Out of battery.”

“Lewis it's time.” One of his mechanics told him. I pat his shoulders.

“Whatever, details we talk about later, now go.” Lewis clicked his tongue putting his helmet on.

“I'm not in the greatest spot.” It was an awful qualify, he barely reached the 13th position and the car hasn't been working as he expects so it's natural he feels so down.

“You always say, fight until the last minute, right? So go and fight. I'm already so proud of you.” Lewis hugs me tight before go.

The loud noise of the cars as they passed in front of the garage is usual, just this time the blue, yellow and red car stole a long glance from me.

Lewis was right, he and his team pushed until the last lap but simply reached the 5th position. As Lewis got into the garage talking with a few members of his team before going to where I was standing.

I opened my arms and he chuckled. “You did amazing.” He nods but doesn't say another word more than thank you.

“Go to the hospitality you look tired, I'll reach you when I finish here, ok?” He kissed my cheek. “It means a lot that you still come.” 

“In the winnings and in the lost.” He genuinely smiled this time before being dragged for his PR team.

I walk in the opposite direction of people who are walking to watch the ceremony. It's been a week of ups and downs with Thomas and I around Newport searching apartments along the work and flights have drained me of energy. 

I go to the upper part of the Mercedes building, ask for a coffee and unconsciously fall asleep on the table.

The soft movement on my shoulder makes me realize the cap I’m wearing over my head is the only thing that saves me from an embarrassing moment. 

“Long week?” Bono is sitting next me changing my coffee. “This is awfully cold.” 

I grab the coffee while taking a sip, and thank him. “Lewis?” Yeah, goddess liquid.

“Oh, he’s finishing the last interviews, I come for this too, but you look defeated. You should go to the hotel, I don’t think there is so much to do either.” Bono put my cap on before leaving. 

He’s right, I stand with my coffee going to the main door hoping to find my brother on the way and telling him I’ll be waiting for him for dinner in the hotel.

On my way out my hoodie got stuck in one of the boys passes so it made me stop turning around and take a step aside of the hallways trying to untangle.

“Great race mate, I’m sorry for the result. Hey… uh, where is Y/N? I didn’t see her today.” That’s definitely Max's voice, making my body tense.

“Oh, she’s been here, all the race.” Lewis answers like he’s pointing out the most obvious thing in the world.

The boy makes our passes untangle, he leaves me there eardroping. 

“I guess, I didn’t search…I mean notice her.” It’s like that should be a thought for himself instead of an out of loud answer.

“Yeah, congrats Max.” I hear loud crashing hands and steps approaching and others going down the steps.

I waited for Lewis to pass the small room where I was standing, for coming out pretending I just came inside looking for him.

Lewis narrowed his eyes. “Are you all right?” I choke my head. “You look surprised, even, you have a soft…” I realize my lips are coming up so I shake my head and take a deep breath.

I shake the cup of my coffee with extra whipped cream. “Bono made me a coffee.” 

Since I was a little kid Bono noticed the deep affection my brother had for me and even he started to spoil me as Lewis, becoming another old brother for me.

He takes a sip. “Oh my word. Too sweet, too sweet.” I giggle and try to put my words in order. “Go to the hotel, I have a few things to do. I’ll be there for dinner.” 

Lewis speaks being dragged for Rosa one more time, as she whispers to me “I’m sorry.” 

As I walked out of the paddock and the fresh air hit my face, reality did too. Why do I even take importance to those words?

“I’m crazy.” I speak to myself.

“You’re definitely stealing moments.” Lewis keeps scrolling in his phone, and notices that actually some people and reporters start to suspect that the girl running along the paddick is no one else than, Y/N Hamilton.

“Yeah, they have good eyes.” My eyes are on the waitress walking with my dessert. 

Lewis takes the last sip of his glass of wine. “Talking about good eyes.” 

My skin crawled just with the thought of Lewis could mention something about his talk with Max.

“The investor confirms the appointment, all seems perfectly right.” He laid back in his chair with a proud smile.

Here in Barcelona, Lewis contacted some people who could be interested in becoming investors of the refugee. Both of us refused to be in an office with the most formal and uncomfortable place, so he invited them to a casual breakfast.

“Don’t worry, we already sent them the advance of the past month any question they could have I’m pretty sure you can handle pretty well.” Every advance I send, makes it more real and makes me more excited.

The dinner was amazing but my body needs a proper sleep to recover energy and go to breakfast fully focused and concentrated. 

“You think I should wear a suit?” Lewis scoffed and pushed me softly.

“My god, it's breakfast Y/N and they aren’t that old.” I take a deep breath trying to relax. 

As we crossed the lobby we found Checo and his personal trainer, Jose; bags on their hands ready to leave, as another lift opened too; drivers, mechanics and some engineers, accompanied with a few girls ready to celebrate the results.

Checo greeted us on their way to the door. “Are you not going?” My brother asked, pointing with his head to the small crowd walking to the exit too.

“Family is waiting.” Checo jokes about Lewis should go, even Bottas is thinking about going.

“Yeah, you should go. I’m actually fighting to keep my eyes open.” I put my fingers over my eyelids making them laugh.

“LEWIS, YOU COME?!” Charles screams at the other side of the lobby holding the crystal door to Alex who waves her hand to me. “Y/N YOU SHOULD COME TOO, IT’S GOING TO BE FUN.”

I shake my head taking a step back. “Sorry! But have fun!” I push Lewis to go but he just replay the same as we watch them go.

“Big day tomorrow, right?” Lewis smiled at me, hugging me with one arm.

Checo and Jo cry out a big “Aw” saying goodbye to us.

“Oh, Y/N do you like Mexican food?” Lewis covers his face with his hand.

“I love it!” Checo keeps thinking for a second.

“If you’re not too busy by the end of the week, you should pass by home, I bet we can prepare something.” He makes a face playing with Lewis. “Yes, Lewis, you’re invited too.”

“Sounds great, we text you.” Lewis rolls his eyes as we walk to the elevator after the final goodbye.

“We?” He’s smiling, we both know I’m not ready to open up to other people, risking me to be vulnerable one more time.

“It’s Checo, it’s going to be fun.” After all, like Bottas, they’ve known each other for a long time. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!”

Mika screams, makes me realize I've been staring at the ceiling with her on the phone. 

“Yes, yes, of course.” We were talking about the next party and if I’m coming too.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressure.” I stand going to the window to get some fresh air.

“It's ok, I want to go.” My head is spinning around the same. “Mika I'm tired, I'll call you tomorrow ok?” I sit on the balcony watching the buildings and the night lights. 

The breakfast it’s the best idea by far, all developed in a full calm, and casual manner but with the formality a business needs, after all Lewis has right, the investors are Lewis' age and good friends of his.

“I must say Y/N you have us.” One of his friends said after they watched the sketch that I was working this month. “I’m in.” 

I see Lewis at the other side of the table smiling, ⅓. “This is spectacular, and a good option of location, focus on what it’s the main cause. Count me in, too.” ⅔

I have my fist tight tapping my legs. “Who’s going to be the face of the refugee?”

The last investor asks, watching the tablet in his hands. “The star of the family, absolutely.” My words put all eyes on me. “Roscoe.”

All laugh and he gave me the tablet. “That’s all I need. I’m in.” 3/3

“Well, that's the merit of a toast.” Lewis calls for a waitress as he winks at me. “This is going to be great, I can assure you that.”

After the breakfast Lewis makes us go back to the hotel, he has a call from the reception, one of the brands he’s ambassador delivers a special item for him.

“It’s going to be quick, but I can’t leave that on the reception.” Lewis says as we enter the hotel. “Wait for me in the cafe, I’ll be there in a blink.”

He runs to the reception as I walk there, taking my time to relax; I’ve been tense for the meeting, now with a good result I feel I take a huge weight over my shoulders.

I sit on the empty table near the big crystal door facing the lift so Lewis can see me easily. I close my eyes and take a deep breath lying back my head relaxing every muscle of my body. 

A nice girl comes closer to me asking if I need something. I say to her I am just waiting for someone, when I see one more time the lift, Max is coming out of one of them, bag at his back and cellphone in hand as another guy helping with his other bags.

The picture from last night, him in the middle of the drivers and girls laughing and talking so freely makes me feel it’s the right thing to do is taking my distance, like I've been doing all these time; making me move my eyes to my phone.

Apparently we don’t think the same, because by the time I lift my eyes one more time Max casually sits in the chair next to me, removing his bag and keeping his phone in his pocket.

That’s the multiple benefits about the sunglasses, the perfect cover all the time. With a barely raise of the corner of my lips I greeted him, didn’t say any other word, my sight stuck to my phone, pretending I’m busy on something.

It was the longest and quiet seconds of the day, until he cleared his throat speaking first, and put in front of me a small purple bottle.

I raised my eyebrows looking at him, my expectations were a serious face however he has a genuine smile on his face.

“It’s nothing weird or bad I swear.” He scoffed, shaking his hands in front of him. “But…you looked really tired yesterday and.” He lay back moving his cap, rushing his words. “Lewis said you were tired because you have a long week, so probably you didn’t sleep well...”

“You ask Lewis about me?” I interrupt his rambling taking the bottle, vitamin B6 and B12. 

“Well, not exactly, I just wonder randomly.” I nod slowly, but the warning sign on my head turns on too. “I…” 

It’s confusing seeing a guy who’s always been so direct and freely talks in battle with his own words.

“I’m always talking to you in the most awkward moments, it’s just… Have you ever been curious about someone? Like that curious that you can't avoid finding an excuse for coming closer.” 

People around him microphones on and cameras focus on him, it’s the only thing that comes to my mind.

“I think you have a better answer than me.” He scoffs like my answer it’s the last thing he expects. 

“I guess it’s dumb on my part to wish you joined us last night, right?” I definitely didn’t expect this answer. “I wonder what it feels having you there.”

What is happening? Perplex it’s my only feeling, but I see honesty in his eyes. The table turns because now I’m the one who's fighting to find some words.

“Ready!” Lewis entered the cafe clapping his hands and a big smile on his face. “Max, hi.” 

Max looks right to my face, smiles cutely at me before standing and greeting my brother. 

“I leave you, I have to go.” Max put his bag on. “Nice to see you again Y/N.” 

Lewis watches him go as I have trouble to recover myself, I grab the bottle and put it inside of my purse.

“That was…” He rested the importance, moving his head. “Whatever, let’s go, multiple things to do.”

“That was nice.” Mika is playing with her pen.

The weather in London it’s been kind of a troublemaker, some days a big sun on the top of your head while others a dark cloud and strong wind.

“I know, but finally we found it.” My hands raising to the sky leave it clear my frustrations for finding a home it’s finally over.

Last weekend with a no race week Thomas and I got on finding the perfect apartment; after a day of walking around Newport we found a nice house almost outside of the town. 

An old man, Richard, came out of it with a big red banner, “For sale.” Thomas dragged me to go inside and just took a look. Richard explains to us, the old house is where he and his wife spend a life together but years ago, her wife died and his daughter with his grandkids who live in France insisted he should come with them, and that's exactly what he’s going to do.

Thomas sees the house like a magnifying glass included in his eyes, I limit myself to see around until I find a back room.

“Oh, my wife likes to draw, so my kids adapted this room for her.” Big windows point to the backyard surrounded by brown walls and a big tree apple on the corner.

A few drawings are still on the wall. “May I?” Richards nods with a big smile. 

“It feels bittersweet.” He says as I look at the draw of two little kids playing with a ball. “Have to restart your life taking the golden moments with you, but the piece of a life too.”

His words touch deeply in my heart and he sees the emotion in my eyes. “But it’s worthy, new adventures waiting for us, right?”

I found Thomas in the kitchen, and said at the same time. “This is the one.”

Mika smiles. “So, he’s going to be in charge of the renovation?” 

Thomas offers me to make the house more 21st century, keeping the essence of the house. I agree with just one condition leaving the drawing room as it was, at the end of it.

“Indeed.” The waitress with our food walks and puts it in front of us.

The soft taste of butter and prosciutto is like from another world and by the way I open my eyes Mika knows and giggles. 

“I told you right?” She takes a sip of his coffee. “This place is a treasure.” Accidentally a few drops of her coffee fall in her medical uniform. “Damn.”

I gave her a napkin; the cafeteria is near to the hospital where she works, so everytime I’m in London I try to take my time and have breakfast, lunch or dinner with her in her free time.

“Yeah, you should go and wash this off.” I laugh because now the drops of coffee in her blue uniform look like drops of blood. “You’ll terrify Mrs.Collins with that.” 

Mika laughs because her next patient is a lady who at his 77, it’s skeptical about having to go with a cardiologist, Mika. 

“Wise girl. I’ll be back in a minute.” Mika stands for washing off the stains. 

After a couple of seconds, the buzz of my phone stole a glance from me, a reminder. 

Mika comes with a damp uniform but she covers it with her hospital gown. “Now, you take care of yourself without someone telling you.” 

“What?” She pointed to the purple bottle. “Oh, it’s just vitamins.” 

She grabs it and examines it from closer. “They're pretty good, though.” 

I bit my lip containing a proud smile. “Can I ask you a question?”  

Mika laughs, shaking her head. “All your malaise please make an appointment with my secretary and I’ll be pleased to assist you.”

I push her feet under the table.

“All right, all right. This is pretty clear, one in every meal.” I shake my head

“It’s not about vitamins. It’s about another thing.” Mika waits for me to continue. “What does it mean <be curious about someone>?” 

Mike frowned her eyebrows, and chuckled, not in a mocking way, like if I just asked the most obvious thing.

“Are you talking seriously?” A plain “yup” was my only answer, confusing her more. “Well, am, you’re interested in someone, maybe in their likes, hobbies, habits… I don’t know Y/N, is such a deeply-confused question.” 

I giggle, whispering and repeating her words. “I know, deep-confuse.” 

“Hey, don’t try to confuse my brain. I’m glad you finally are taking care of you. I was about to give you an IV every time you come.” Mika grabs my hand across the table and smiles. “Remember, a new beginning, a fresh new start.”

“I’m afraid.” I sigh. “I don’t want to…seeing me again like I did months ago.” 

The image of me standing in front of my mirror with red eyes shaking wondering what I did wrong, still wakes me up from time to time.

“Baby steps.” I laugh. “A great way to start.” 

I see the vitamins and the recalling of that night, seeing the post under the bottle with a careful and still messy  writing that just says. 

>Take one in every meal and drink water, please!

Put a genuinely  smile on my face, and softly shake my heart.

[its-vannah]

The Alternative | Warren Rojas x Reader

A/N: Again, this took over a week for me to write because I get distracted easily. It's a shorter one, more like a blurb, but it's cute and does the job 💕

Request: hiiii warren request🫣 can you write a one shot where warren and reader sneak off at camilla’s housewarming party in ep. 4 to get high and there is a lot of sexual tension and they end up hooking up. THANK YOU

Warnings: Getting high, mentions of the band fighting, reader and Warren sneaking off

Taglist: @celestialstar111 @stokzr

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

There were many things you could look past when it came to The Six's behavior. Their constant arguments were one of them.

Once the disagreements started, you knew better than to stick around and watch it play out. So you just took your things and sat on the back porch, waiting for the yelling to die down.

On most days, it was Billy telling everybody to fuck off. Other days, it was Eddie telling Billy to fuck off. And some days, it was Karen telling them both to fuck off.

Being their neighbor, you heard most of their arguments. I mean, there wasn't much space between your houses and they weren't exactly quiet people.

Regardless, you had grown to love them. You, Karen, and Camila hung out every Thursday night at your place so they could get a break from whatever shit the boys were getting into.

Other days, Warren came over with his drumsticks to test how they sounded on your pots and pans—which he claimed "sounded different" than the ones they used at their house.

He'd spend hours just banging on different pieces of metal until he found a beat he liked. Then, he'd take your face in his hands, loudly say, "I'm a genius", and run back to show Billy what he's figured out.

Of course, Billy told him to talk to him when he wasn't high on marijuana—which wasn't often.

Those were the moments you enjoyed. Not wanting to ruin your friendships with the band, you stayed out of any drama that ensued between them for your own sanity. Sure, you had plenty of things you could say, but you'd never be able to finish a sentence without being spoken over.

So you kept your mouth shut, grabbed a bottle of wine, and sat in what had become "your chair."

Tonight was like most nights, the band was having a small spat. Billy was irritated that Daisy was there, Graham and Karen were God knows where, Eddie was sulking, and Camila was trying to fix everything.

You were in the same spot as always, rocking back and forth with a bottle in your hand, looking up at the endless array of stars.

It was peaceful and oddly humbling—knowing you were just a tiny fragment in the world. God, you were drunk off your ass.

Light footsteps behind you broke your train of thought and you watched as Warren came into view.

"Hey, neighbor," He said with a smile, nursing a bottle of beer, "Mind if I join you?"

"They're still fighting?"

He shrugged, sitting beside you in the other rocking chair, taking a swig of his drink, "Billy's not happy."

"When is he?" You scoffed, throwing back your wine, finishing the bottle, "He's always in a fucking mood."

"That's Billy for you. Always grumpy."

You dipped your head back with a groan, "I don't know who's worse—him or Eddie."

"Oh, Billy. It's definitely Billy."

Unable to stop yourself, you burst out laughing. The alcohol was starting to take a toll on your physical state, "So, what brings you out here? You stargaze often?

He grinned at your teasing tone, breaking eye contact and looking down at his feet, shaking his head, "No, no, just wanted to keep you company. And see if you'd do weed with me."

"Better than the alternative."

"What's the alternative?"

You gave him a knowing look, "Not doing weed with you."

- - -

You and Warren were laying on the floor of the back porch, laughing hysterically at something he said—but you couldn't exactly remember what he said—and neither did he. That itself added to the humor of it all. At least, it did for you.

Nothing could disturb the two of you, not the lights going out, Julia's crying, or the loud sound of the swarm of people inside of the house.

"So she walked in to see Eddie in a dress and Graham in nothing but his—his—" You couldn't even get the words out without laughing.

Warren slapped the wooden boards beside him, laughing so hard he was practically snorting, "I wasn't any better, I was a pirate."

You kicked your legs, holding your stomach, "I can't—I can't breathe—"

Warren sat up, leaning over you, "I can give you CPR."

You were pretty out of it, but you understood what he was saying. The thing is—you didn't want him to give you CPR.

"We could just go to my place instead."

Warren raised his brows, "You think we can make it that far?"

"I think we can at least make it to my front lawn."

He got on his knees, grabbing the rocking chair to pull himself up. The chair swung back, causing him to fall back down to the ground.

You looked over at him—and as soon as his eyes met yours, the two of you burst out laughing.

Pushing yourself up off the ground, you reached your hand out, "Come on, let's get you out of those clothes."

You've never seen him run faster in your life.

[mournersandfunerals]

The thing is, I can forgive a lot of it. The scene where Kaz tries to help Inej with her wounds? I guess it was a nice nod to the CK scene, if slightly too soon. The "I will have you without Armour?" Fine. We all wanted to see that anyway. Rushing Wesper into a relationship rather than keeping as the slow-burn from the books? Okay. I really loved them on screen despite that. Kaz beating up the dregs? Definitely could have done without it for obvious reasons, but whatever. I can brush it off.

But the two things that are really grating on me are Kaz's face-off with Pekka Rollins and Inej leaving to hunt slavers. Because the POINT of these things happening towards the end of the second book is that there's a build up.

These characters go through so much. We learn everything about them, we see their struggles and we root for them. We spend SO much time learning about Kaz's thirst for revenge. We see moments where he starts to lose it when it comes to Pekka, and slowly start to learn why. And at the climax of Crooked Kingdom, there's so much on the line. We finally see him snap. There's a build up there of something that he's spent his entire life and two whole books working towards.

The first season of Shadow and Bone consisted of 8 episodes. So we can estimate that the crows had probably less than 4 hours of screen time. And we learned nothing about them, really. They were the mysterious trio that were hired to steal something. And then suddenly S2E1's "Brick by brick" turns into the peak of Kaz's character arc. It takes away the impact and the reasoning behind it.

And the same for Inej. Where is the journey? Where's the trauma that was inflicted by a woman who was truly evil? When we see Inej running into Tante Heleen for the first time in the duology, she freezes. She can't do anything. Are you telling me that the same girl who is so terrified of this woman can face her without a problem?

Again, there's so much of a development here as well. Inej has this realisation and this epiphany about what she wants to do. She wants to hunt down these slavers. She wants to make sure that nobody goes through the same stuff that she did. And when she sees Heleen after that, it's when she slowly starts to lose power over Inej. I mean, she steals the necklace straight from her neck, for crying out loud. Erasing Inej's trauma from S1 was a problem but they dug themselves in a deeper hole by killing off Heleen. She can't go through the journey that she's supposed to. Her entire character arc was just completely erased.

And the thing is, in the duology, Inej still goes through even more hell before she can get free from her indenture. The Ice Court Heist, Van Eck's torture, Dunyasha, etc. And yet... she's free before the start of the heist?

The heist is an important job for each crow. They all have a reason for being there, and they all have something on the line. None of them really think they're going to survive it, but they're trying anyway because, at this point, what do they really have to lose? And for Inej, this is her chance to get the money to leave the barrel. So... are you telling me that she's going to willingly come back to help on a life-threatening job for freedom that she no longer needs? What's going to happen with Kaz now that he's already had that stand-off?

Would love to know because right now I'm as lost as the rest of the book fans.

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 3

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6  | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, eventual drinking and drugs, a little smut but nothing crazy (yet), a bit slow burn but not really.  

word count: 1,509

Over the first month, your friendship with Pedro only grew stronger. You were afraid once the production set was moved to the country, he was going to just disappear, as you were no longer roommates. You’d be lying to yourself if you said he didn’t make you feel anything, especially with how charming and flirting he was. You both had shared a lot of personal stuff over smoking joints and you were already used to hanging out together after a day of filming. But today things were going to be different, because the producers had organized a little happy hour for the crew.

Speaking of them, you had asked Pedro to keep your friendship on the low, at least during the job. You knew what everyone would say and think, mostly about you alone, so you were looking after yourself. He understood that and apparently didn’t care to be sneaking out like a teenager to spend some time with you.

“There you are”, Pedro happily greeted you on the corner of the happy hour room, about two hours into the event. “I almost didn’t get the chance to see you today. How’s everything going?”

At this point, you were certain the director hated you, but thank God he was the only one. Everyone else seemed to really like you and your work, which helped a lot with your anxiety.

“He spent the day trying to drive me crazy… Again”, you told Pedro. “You?”

“I would definitely rather be directed by you, if I’m being honest” he said in sympathy. “But yeah, it won’t take long for me to tell him to fuck off. Super nicely, of course.”

You both laughed. You could see he had been drinking and so did everybody in the room. Somebody turned up the music and Pedro dragged you to the improvised dance floor. You danced for about half an hour, until you saw him going to talk to Donna, one of the producers. They seemed friendly— too friendly, if somebody asked your opinion. You noticed it before, how close they acted sometimes, but at the end of the day, it was none of your business. Flo, the make-up artist that got you the job, got your attention and you walked to her.

“What’s up with that face?” She shot you the question. Flo was in her mid 40s and you got to know her in your first gig, since then she was always trying to connect you with people. You really liked her and, most importantly, trusted her. “You looked like you were about to commit murder on the dance floor. I know Dave is giving you a hard time, but honestly he is doing this to every single soul.”

“I was just wondering, is Donna taken?”, you asked as if you had no intention behind it.

“Yeah, I think so”, she told you. “Why? You gay too?”

“Someti— wait, what?” You stared at each other for a few seconds. “Is she?”

“As far as I know”, she said simply. “And by that I mean I’ve known her for about 10 years now. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, you didn’t. I mean, good for her, right.”

You decided you need to put your shit together now on. You excused yourself and went to get another drink — you can be a new woman tomorrow. You took some shots and got a drink to hold while you watched everyone dancing and having a good time. You tried to force yourself to stop thinking about your crush on Pedro.

“I need professional help”, you whispered to yourself.

“And why is that?”

“Shit, Pedro!” You jumped, realizing he was right by your side. “You scared the shit out of me, you shithead.”

“Wow, language, sweetheart”, he laughed at your reaction, putting his arm over your shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Not much, just enjoying the free drinks”, you replied, also enjoying the proximity of his body. “I can see you’re enjoying them yourself.”

“Nah, I’m thinking about getting out of here, people are starting to get too drunk and God forbid I witness anything I can’t unsee”, he was being playful and seemed happy when he got a smile out of you. “Care to join me? Or you already have plans for tonight?”

“Yeah, you know me, Miss Popularity herself”, you both laughed. “Seriously, though. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Is it okay if we leave together? Considering your privacy policy”, he whispered in your ear. Only if he knew how weak that makes you. You just nodded. “After you, mi princesa.”

Fuck you, Pedro Pascal, you thought as you made the effort to move your shaking legs. Two options: first, he had no idea of his effects on you, or second, he did know that and he just liked to torture you. However it is, you were not willing to make a move to figure it out. 

The location of the shooting was a huge farm, so you walked together through the open field, towards his cabin. You got inside and took your shoes off.

“Hey, mister ‘I’m just a common worker as everybody else’, tell me again why exactly you are the only one with a private hot tube”, you teased him. He laughed. “Is it because you’re such good friends with Donna?”.

“So that’s what it was about back in the happy hour?” Pedro looked deeply into your eyes. “Such a jealous little girl, uh?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You can’t deny your brain formulated that sentence, but the alcohol spilled it out your mouth.

“Answering your question, I’m not really friends with Donna, but her partner is one of my closest colleagues in the industry”, he said in a patient tone. “And you’re welcome to use the hot tube whenever you feel like it.”

You could feel your cheeks burning. Fuck.

“I didn’t mean to— to be honest, I don’t even know what I meant, so don’t mind drunk Y/N”, you breathed out strongly.

“Why don’t we forget about it and instead go chill in the hot tube?” He offered you a smile. Pedro was so easy to deal with, always trying to make you comfortable. “I have more of that nice whisky you like.”

You quickly put on your bikini in your room and head back to Pedro’s cabin. You could hear the happy hour turning into a party on the back, as you joined him inside the tub. You did your best to not stare at his toned, tanned body. He was smoking a cigar and handed you a glass.

“You know what’s funny”, he started, you already knew you wouldn’t find it funny at all. “This is the second time I see you in a tub.”

“Well, fuck you very much sir”, you held a serious face before letting a smile scape. “That was traumatic.”

“Why is that? I would say you made quite an impression”, he laughed, something different sparkling in his eyes. “Would it bother you if I said I still think about it?”

You felt your body hot, as if the water was on boiling point.

“God”, you whispered. He never took his eyes off yours. “I don’t know what to say, Pedro.”

“It’s a simple question, sweetheart”, he replied, coming a little closer. You got chills all over your body. “Honestly, I don’t know if you only see me as this friendly, older, disgusting man—”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” you cut him before he could finish. “Feel free to think about whatever you like.”

“Good”, he said quietly, his body even closer, but still not touching yours. “Tell me what you were doing on the tub that day, sweetheart.”

“I-I was, uh,” you felt like you were about to explode, your brain trying to process if this was really happening. “I was touching myself.”

“Finally, princesa”, he let out a deep breath against your neck. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to hear you say this, to be sure my memory wasn’t fucking with me.”

He touched your waist with his hand, putting the cigar away with the other one. You felt delirious.

“What are you going to do now that you know?” The question popped out of your mouth.

He grabbed your arm to move your body, making you sit on his lap. Face to face. He was hard as fuck.

“I will take you back to your cabin, give you a goodnight kiss…” He made a pause. His stare was deep down your soul. “Come back to mine and think ‘bout you while I mind my own business.”

He was dead serious.

“I’m too horny to go to sleep”, you cried to him, all your blood concentrated between your legs. You moved on his lap, rubbing against his cook.

“Trust me”, he said as his hands firmly held your hips down, making you stop and yet feel him ever harder. “I feel the same way.”

He gave you a little forehead kiss.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

CHAPTER 4 AVALIABLE NOW

TAGLIST: @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86​ (edit: i’m not sure why i wasn’t able to tag everybody i’m trying my best here)

[peachhcs]

I feel like will and Sammy were one of those friends that like took naps while cuddling, or maybe at any free time they would be together, sometimes they said flirty comments to each other and still be like “we are best friends, we would never like each other”

no, no we’re just friends | the wonder years

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

1.5k words

takes place fall of will’s first dev program year (samy is a junior) this was genuinely so fun to write. i added some more plot to it, i hope that’s okay, but keep sending in requests for the wonder years i love writing their younger dynamic!

au masterlist

a weekend of no hockey games? not even traveling? those types of weekends were rare for the boys. 

they'd been on the move since the start of the season in august meaning two straight months of nonstop hockey every day, every week, every weekend. things were hectic–chaotic even—but they loved it. playing hockey everyday? it was the dream and so was finally getting to sleep in on saturday morning without worrying about waking up at ungodly hours for morning practice. 

the boys scattered themselves across the hughes family living room after a long night in ann arbor. what other way would they spend their free weekend besides driving an hour to samy's house where ellen welcomed them with open arms—secretly excited that her house was filled with people again. 

things were quiet now that the brothers were gone even though luke came back every weekend to do his laundry. 

samy excitedly showed them around the city she grew up in for most of her life with will chirping in every now and then with tidbits from the places he's visited. surprisingly, the boys were really into the museum of art by the university, especially ryan and drew. 

"no way someone painted that," ryan mumbled as their gazes stared up at the large 4 foot painting hanging off the wall. 

"i could do it better," aram shrugged earning a slap on the arm from jacob. 

"no you could not," the brunette muttered, shaking his head. 

the two began quietly bickering about who could paint better. will rolled his eyes before flicking over to briefly meet samy's gaze who lingered beside the blonde. she softly giggled at his friends' antics which resulted in a soft smile on the boy's lips. 

"i'd really like to see you guys try and paint," samy cut into their bickering as she led the way to the next painting. 

"you think we can't paint?" jacob raised his eyebrow at the girl. she only shrugged. 

"let's be real, you can't paint to save your life," ryan added with his own laughter. 

"uh, i can to. i took art classes my freshman year," jacob defensively crossed his arms. 

"ooh, so cool," ryan's mimicry voice made the group laugh. 

the banter didn't stop the entire time they were in the art museum. at least not until they made it to the natural history museum where the boys were really excited to look at dinosaurs. samy couldn't help but giggle as she watched the six boys hurry to see the t-rex up close. 

"how do you think they got it here?" gabe wondered. 

"a plane?" drew raised his eyebrow. the dark-haired boy smacked him on the arm, rolling his eyes. "smartass," gabe mumbled. 

"what's your favorite dinosaur?" will wondered over the commotion of the other guys. 

the girl's eyes slid to his, sparking some in the light while she thought about her answer. "good question. i really like rhinos. they don't have any in this museum though," she finally decided with a tiny smile. 

"didn't quinn buy you a rhino stuffed animal however many years ago?" the blonde asked. 

"he did! it was like my 7th birthday or something. i can't believe you remembered that," the youngest hughes chuckled. 

"only because i remember we sent you the nerf guns after being upset all summer that your brothers had them and you didn't," will informed making samy laugh again. 

"those were the best gift. i think we still have them in our basement somewhere, but i definitely lost all the..what do you call them? pellets?" the two shared another small laugh before the group headed to a different exhibit. 

after the museums, luke graciously met up with all of them and took them to dinner close to campus (but secretly ellen sent him money to pay for all eight of them because poor luke was a broke college student). the boys were definitely excited to see luke and they got him into a long conversation about hockey and what college was like. 

samy and will were at one at one end of the table where they immersed themselves in their own conversation again letting the others talk luke up because the two already saw him all the time. 

"happy there's no saturday practice tomorrow?" the brunette wondered, sipping on her lemonade. 

"mhm. i don't think i've really slept in since like..i moved here," will chuckled. 

"do you ever sleep in though? i'm pretty sure i always hear you awake at like eight in the morning with luke and jack at the lake house," samy raised her eyebrow which brought a flush to will's face. 

"you gotta get up early to hit the green," the boy argued referring to all the times they went golfing. 

"oh, right, right. how could i forget?" samy made a face. 

a small silence settled between them as their eyes drifted down the table where their friends excitedly talked with luke. something warmed in both of their chests seeing how well they everyone got along. samy really couldn't be more happier that will introduced her to these boys and seeing how much her brother loved them all too. will thought the exact same thing. 

the two years ahead were gonna be the best years. will knew it and so did samy. 

it was late when the group made it back to the hughes house. ellen and jim already had the air mattresses blown up meaning everyone immediately collapsed on sight after changing into pajamas. samy made herself comfortable beside will who briefly scrolled through his phone. the girl had a small cup of ice cream in her hand, quickly offering some to the blonde. 

"mm love rocky road," will hummed as he took the bite. 

"i know we have the same taste," the brunette giggled. she fished around for the remote before turning the tv on the lowest setting and flipping to some random movie playing. 

the girl stretched out, letting her eyes grow sleepy. her head dipped onto will's shoulder making the boy flush briefly before he hooked his arm around her own shoulders. this wasn't abnormal for the two, especially after the past summer. they'd become a lot more touchy with one another, always poking and prodding—so a head on the shoulder as samy fell asleep wasn't something the two thought twice about. 

not until the morning where they were in the same position except samy's head fell more onto will's chest with one of her arms spread out across his torso. the guys woke up before they did and ryan was the first one to notice the sleeping pair curled up on the couch together. 

"dude, look," the brunette nudged drew's shoulder who slowly sat himself up while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"are we sure smitty doesn't like her?" drew mumbled with a tiny snicker. 

"he's gotta or something. i mean look at them!" ryan exclaimed. 

all of the guys were still in denial about will saying he didn't have feelings for samy and never has. they were literally staring at the two asleep together. gabe, aram, and jacob woke up a few minutes later hearing ryan and drew's voices. 

"why are you guys talking so damn loud?" aram grumbled. 

"look at smitty and hughesy," ryan urged his friends. the other three shifted their gazes towards the sleeping pair and they immediately understood what the fuss was about. 

"damn. if i didn't know any better.." jacob trailed off earning laughs across the group. 

"should we wake them up?" gabe asked as ryan took some pictures on his phone for later use whenever will wanted to try and deny his feelings. 

"i think your voices were loud enough.." samy's eyes fluttered open. the boys immediately quieted down, but the smirks didn't disappear on their faces. 

samy slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. will shifted against the couch, his own eyes opening up too. 

"good morning love birds," ryan sang. 

"oh this again," samy playfully rolled her eyes. 

"what do you mean this again? you guys were literally cuddling," aram pointed out and all of the guys nodded in agreement. 

"and?" the girl raised her eyebrow, gazing over at will briefly who was now fully awake. 

"and? y'all are acting like a couple!" ryan exclaimed again. 

samy and will instantly bursted into laughter which left the boys silent and confused. 

"no, no we're just friends," the brunette got out through her laughter. 

"friends don't cuddle," drew cut in. 

"yes they do. i cuddle with my friends all the time. you guys are just afraid to," samy argued, pushing herself off the couch. she looked down at will for confirmation. he saw the guys' looks, knowing exactly what they were thinking. 

"come on, we're just friends. it's nothing," the boy agreed with samy. 

"exactly, thank you. can we stop making a big deal out of it and get breakfast?" the boys looked between the two for a few more seconds before deciding to drop the subject for now, but still not believing a word either of them said. 

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4

ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 4590

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

PART 1: Chapter 4

Unconditional Violence.

Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.

You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.

You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.

It always does.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.

And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.

Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.

The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.

All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”

Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.

“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”

Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”

The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”

You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”

He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.

--

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.

There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.

But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.

Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.

So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.

You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.

“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”

All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.

Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.

You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.

Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.

On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.

Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.

“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.

Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.

Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.

Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.

Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.

Extroverted people.

Yeesh.

At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.

Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.

Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.

“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.

Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.

Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.

The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.

This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.

Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.

You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.

Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.

“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”

You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”

Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”

Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.

--

Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.

Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.

The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.

“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”

During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.

Looked like someone else was listening in too.

Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.

Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.

When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”

Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.

“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”

All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.

“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.

Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”

Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”

Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.

--

You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.

With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.

What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.

“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”

A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.

Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.

Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.

A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.

You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.

“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”

Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”

You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.

Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?

Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.

“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.

Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.

Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.

“Boudreaux.”

Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.

You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”

Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!”  he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.

Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.

Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”

You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”

The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”

Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.

“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.

You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.

“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”

Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.

The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.

“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”

Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.

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

ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

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[angelst4re]

hi sweetie! i have been dying for a teacher x student type of story trope with jamie ;) with some smut if your comfortable <3

i dont think i've ever written for teacher!jamie before so i could not just let this request sit in my inbox for another 4 months... i also combined it with a jealous jamie smut request but i'm thinking of making a part 2 to this which has more jealous jamie... which i may even be writing right now!!! <3

Sugar- Teacher!Jamie x Reader

♡ warnings: NSFW!!! contains smut!!! please don't read if you're not comfortable love! NEITHER AGES ARE SPECIFIED BUT READER IS 18+ <3 it’s only ever mentioned that theres a 15 year age gap

♡ notes: i attempted to keep this as gender neutral as possible but reader is afab! also i kinda rushed this because i just needed to post something!! but there's going to be a part 2 I PROMISE!!!

“...Oh, and don’t forget, y/l/n, we have a one to one scheduled for 3:30 to discuss your exam results. I’ll be in my office.” Mr Bower, who insisted you call him Jamie, reminded you with a smile as you left the classroom. 

“I haven’t forgotten, sir.” You say as you turn back around to smile at him, and give him a little wave before you leave the room. 

You had two hours to spare before your meeting with the music teacher, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t spend the majority of the time in the bathroom making sure you looked perfect. You had been waiting for a moment like this, a moment alone with the teacher that has plagued your mind since the beginning of the school year. You and your friends, and most likely the entire class, had been captivated by not only his looks but his personality. Having learnt that he had recently become single after a three year long relationship, you felt like you stood a chance, but then you were quickly reminded of the 15 year age gap. 

However, his behaviour around you didn’t go unnoticed. You’d catch him eyeing you up when you would come in wearing a new outfit that evidently boosted your confidence, or you would catch him looking over at you whilst you were in the middle of a written exam, and he would quickly divert his eyes when they met yours. 

Despite the clear indication he may be into you the way you’re into him, you both had a very positive, friendly relationship. He would give you the best tips and advice, and be more than willing to help you progress in the ways you wished to, as he would with anybody in the class, but there was one particular encounter that you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

You and your boyfriend, Andy, had a fight the night before and you had missed your class in the morning. Jamie got in contact with you to ask about the absence, and you felt comfortable enough to explain the situation to him. He told you that even if you didn’t attend your classes that day, to at least come in to talk about how you’re feeling. He assured you that although he didn’t qualify as a therapist, it would be good to talk to someone. And so you did. 

You came in with unbrushed hair, wearing yesterday's clothes and threw yourself onto the chair in his office as you broke down in tears. You don’t remember much of that day, besides the pet names he would casually drop into his sentences. 

Sweetheart, love, darling.

He definitely knew how to charm. 

You also had a memory of staining his white shirt with tears as he let you cry into his chest, telling him how your boyfriend was a dick. How he was caught in bed with a random girl (to which there was proof) but he tried to convince you it never happened. 

You remember Jamie telling you something along the lines of, “every failed relationship should be thought of as a blessing. It might be upsetting to see it come to an end, but it means you’re still yet to find the one out there who’s for you, and it's giving the chance to find them. The one that will treat you right, even on their bad days. You’ll never know where this person may be, but they’re definitely out there.”

It was apparent through a quick google search that Jamie was definitely experienced when it came to relationships, so you knew to trust him on this one. 

You kept checking the time on your phone, waiting and waiting and waiting for it to hit 3:25 so you could begin walking towards Jamie’s office, but the time seemed to pass so slow. 

It was only 3pm. 

You sighed, placing your phone back down on the table you were sat at in the library. All your friends had gone home as you finish early on a Wednesday, yet you agreed to meet Jamie today as it was the only afternoon he had free this week. 

Only seconds after placing your phone down on the table, the screen lights up as it begins to ring, the noise causing everyone to turn around, some even sending dirty looks your way as you pick up your bag and leave, answering the phone as you begin to walk towards the building where Jamie’s office was. 

“What do you want, Andy?” You sighed, holding the phone up to your ear. 

“I miss you,” he said, a feeble attempt to guilt trip you, “I was just looking at some old pictures and-”

“It was your idea for us to take a break in the first place. I’m not just going to drop everything and come running back to you because you ‘miss me’.” 

“I’m sorry, okay. I realised what I did was wrong and…” 

You stopped listening to what Andy was saying as Jamie passed you in the hallway, sensing your distressed state he stopped quickly to mouth an ‘is everything okay?’, to which you nodded your head. 

“I don’t care, okay. Whatever you have to say I’m sure I’ve heard it all before. When I’m ready to talk to you I will, until then just please give me some space.” You say before ending the call, and you jump as you realise Jamie was waiting by your side. 

You were blocking the door to his office. 

“I’m so sorry!” You apologise, stepping to the side. 

“Don’t apologise!” Jamie gasped, as if you had offended him, before opening the door for you, “we can start early if that’s okay with you, I have nothing else planned this afternoon.” 

Nodding your head, you entered his office. 

“So he’s still giving you grief- Andy?” 

“How did you guess?” You scoff as you sit down on the chair opposite his desk. 

“I don’t know how a someone like you can stay with someone like him-”

“We’re on a break, actually.” You interrupted. “Although he seems to care about me more now than he did in the 8 months we were together.” 

“You need to leave him for good, sweetheart.” He told you, as he rummaged through the cabinet beside his desk, pulling out your exam papers and setting them in front of you. “So, let’s begin!”

Only twenty minutes into the session, your phone began to ring again, and you apologised to Jamie, getting ready to leave the room to take the call before realising it was Andy again. Jamie didn't look best impressed as you ran a hand through your hair stressfully. 

“Give me your phone.” Jamie sighed. 

“No, it’s okay, really. I’ll just switch it off-”

“Y/n. Phone.”

The sternness in his voice sent chills through your body, yet a warmth grew in your lower stomach. 

By the time you handed your phone over to him, Andy had stopped calling. Hopefully, he had given up, but you knew he would keep going until he got his way, like always. 

“You know, sweetheart, the look on your face when you saw it was him calling you told me everything.” Jamie said, leaning back in his chair. 

“What do you mean?” You scoffed. 

“You know what I mean, darling. Please stop trying to convince yourself he’s a good guy, not when he treats you like shit and expects you to drop everything for him. You deserve better.”

“And how do you know that? Sure, me and Andy might have our moments, but when he can be nice… he’s somebody completely different. Deep down, he’s a really good guy, Jamie.” You explain, feeling tears of frustration begin to gloss your eyes. 

“I’m not buying it, love.” He said, shaking his head in disbelief. 

And that was all it took to push you over the edge, shoving your phone into your bag as you pushed your exam papers towards him and stood up. 

“That’s it, I’m not taking this anymore.” You frown, turning around to leave. 

“There we go, that’s what you should say next time Andy’s on the phone-”

“Oh, Jamie, won’t you just shut up!” You shout, throwing your arms in the air. “What is your fucking problem today?”

“Well, technically your ‘boyfriend’ isn’t my problem, so…”

“Why do you care so much?” You finally say after a moment's silence, your hands placed on the back of the chair you were previously sitting on. 

“You’re my student. It’s my job to care.” He answers, simply. 

“But there’s more to it than that. Isn’t there?” You swallow, bracing yourself for his reply, “c’mon Jamie, I’m not stupid.” 

“What are you trying to imply, darling?” He chuckles, standing up from his chair and making his way towards you, “are you talking about the way I catch you staring at me in class when everyone else is working, or how about when I hear you gossiping with your friends about my love life, or about how you could tell I had used a different aftershave one day…” 

The smirk on his face was devilish, but you had no time to process that with your recent revelation. 

“You’re jealous.” You stated, turning to look up at him. “You’re jealous of Andy.” 

“Darling, I have no need to be jealous of him. Not when I know you’re leaving him.” 

“You don’t know whether I’m-”

You never got to finish that sentence as you were met with his lips on yours. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear which had fallen in your moment of frustration. As he pulled back from the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours before whispering,

“What if I prove you- show to you why you should leave him, hm?” He asked, although it wasn’t much of a question as he could tell by the way you were looking at him what the answer was going to be. “I need words, baby.” 

“Yes.” You managed to say, after catching your breath. 

A smile spread across Jamie’s lips briefly before you pulled him back in, missing the feeling of his soft lips against yours. With one hand on your waist, holding you against him, the other was placed on your cheek again, whilst your arms wrapped around his neck. You had dreamt and fantasised about this moment for months, but you never expected it to ever happen. It was always more of a scenario to help you fall asleep rather than something that would actually come true. 

“Does he fuck you good, hm? The way you want?” He asks, breathlessly, as he lifts you up onto his desk, shoving everything out of the way. 

You shake your head, using the slight space between you to reach for his belt, but he seemed to have other plans. 

“Has he ever gone down on you?” He asked bluntly, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts, easing them down your legs along with your underwear. 

You once again shake your head, you have only received head once, and that was during a drunk fling at your friends birthday party- and even then you didn’t get to finish. 

Jamie simply chuckled, as if to say he wasn’t surprised. 

“Poor thing,” he frowns, lowering himself to his knees in front of you as he holds your legs open for him, placing kisses on your inner thighs, trailing down to your knees before going back up again, stopping where you needed him the most. “You ever cum when he fucks you?” 

And as if on command, you shook your head again.

“Only when I’m alone.” You confess. 

“Oh yeah, and who do you think about whilst you touch yourself?” He teases, his thumb gently stroking your clit as you fight the urge to close your legs. He looks up at you, stopping all movement as he waits on your answer. 

“You, I think about you, Jamie.” You whine.

“Oh, honey, I know.” He says before you feel his lips on your skin, his tongue circling your clit as his fingers move a little lower, finding your opening and teasing circles around it before gently pushing one in. 

His fingers were a favourite in your fantasies, thinking about what they could do, and he certainly did not disappoint. 

A second finger followed the first and they began curling inside you, searching for a spot Jamie was sure your ex would never have been able to find, and when you let out a choked moan he smirked against you, knowing he’d found it. 

Hif fingers rubbed against this spot inside you as his tongue licked, sucked and nibbled on the sensitive nub, and you were frighteningly close to the edge. You had never reached your high so quickly before, but as his hot breath fanned over your clit you tumbled off the edge, your orgasm washing over you. Your release began to drip down his hand as he continued at the pace he started, and your legs shook as you panted, your fingers pulling at his hair. 

“Jesus,” you whispered breathlessly. 

“Just me, darling.” He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before coming back up to place a kiss on your forehead. 

You couldn’t believe the timing as there was a knock at the door to Jamie’s office. The two of you both froze for a moment, before Jamie handed you your clothes and rushed to the door. 

“Mr Bower, I know you usually go home early today but Margaret told me you were here so I was just wondering if I could-” 

“I’m in a meeting right now, Sasha, can you wait just two minutes?” He put on his best grin as he his behind the slightly open door to disguise his hard on. 

“Oh, of course! Sorry to interrupt!” The girl apologised before Jamie shut the door. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, we have to cut it short today. But you’re sure to be back in here later this week, or should I say let's reschedule?” He tried to hide his smirk when your legs wobbled as you got off his desk.

“I’m available all week, unless I decide to see Andy-”

“Honey, if I have to hear about him once more-”

“You’ll get all heated and fuck me senseless over your desk?” You grinned, feeling slightly giddy after the mind blowing orgasm he had given you, “why on earth would I want that?”