#please feel free to come to my ask and ask about my takes on jamie !! i'd love to talk about him !!!

[moonstruckme]

Helloo lovely, hope you're having a good day!

I just wanted to leave a teeny tiny request for a poly!marauders x reader where reader has never tried any alcoholic drinks before but she wants to try and she trusts her boys about the drinks and about taking care of her if she feels drunk (not that she would recognize the feeling, I guess)?

If you've done this before or not feeling like writing it, just feel free to ignore it 💙

Hope tumblr doesn't eat my request this time, for some reason it really likes to eat anything I send when they are sent as anon 🤦🏻‍♀️

Thanks for requesting, angel <3

cw: alcohol

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 533 words

“Baby.” Sirius is laughing, pink-cheeked and sparkly-eyed while he detaches his mouth from a straw. His legs are pulled up with him onto the armchair, you sitting cross-legged on the couch with James. “You’ve got to give it more of a chance than that.” 

“Leave off her.” James comes to your defense, taking the drink from your hand into his own custody. Your boyfriends have benefited greatly from your discards tonight. “Maybe she’s just not a vodka girl.” 

“Everyone is a vodka girl! And flavored vodka is the best kind!”

“It’s just so…” You pucker your mouth, trying to get rid of the taste. “Sharp.” 

Both of them laugh, James wrapping an arm around your shoulders to smooch your cheek. “That’s alcohol, m’love,” he says fondly. 

“It all tastes like that?” 

“It doesn’t have to,” Remus assures you, coming in from the kitchen with another glass. (You’re really going to need to do the dishes tomorrow, you owe it to them after all this.) This drink is promisingly pink. “Are you alright to try another?”

“Please.” You reach for it, smiling at the twirly straw he’s stuck in there for you. 

“Is that a dirty Shirley?” James’ eyes light as he looks into your glass. He looks excited when Remus nods. “Angel, if you don’t like it, give it to me.” 

You close your lips around the straw, trying to ignore the attention of your boyfriends as you take a tentative sip. It doesn’t make you gag, at least. 

“This is good,” you say, almost warily. “What’s in it?”

Remus looks pleased with himself. “Sprite, grenadine, and malibu.” 

“Malibu?” Sirius elbows Remus as the taller boy folds into the armchair with him, aghast. “That’s cheating!”

“It is not,” Remus says primly. “She needed something less strong.” 

“Am I drunk yet?” you ask, having slurped down half the glass in your relief to finally be drinking something palatable. 

“Oh, hey, slow down, sailor.” James hooks a finger around your straw, gently tugging it from your mouth. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” 

“You’ll know if you’re drunk, sweetness,” Sirius tells you. He’s grinning like he can’t wait. 

You frown. “How will I know?” 

“You’ll know,” he promises. “Everything feels rather different.” 

“Like, good different?”

Sirius hesitates, and Remus cuts in. “That’s up to you, dove. Not everyone likes it, but we won’t let it be awful for you.” 

You falter, slowing your sips from your straw cautiously. James laughs and plants another kiss on your cheek. If your boyfriends are anything to go by, being drunk is a lovely time. 

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” he says, thumb denting into your cheek affectionately. “It’ll be fun, scout’s honor.” 

“You weren’t actually in the boy scouts, Jamie,” Remus reminds him. 

“Yeah, but I totally get what they were about. And I live by those values, Moons, so I’m practically an honorary scout. Scout’s honor, get it?” 

You listen to this rigmarole with something between wariness and amusement. “Is being drunk going to be like that?” you ask Remus. 

He grins as he picks up a drink from your collection of discards, but it’s Sirius who answers. 

“We should all be so lucky, babe.”

[tartt9]

good morning friends !! my webhooks are how you say,,, fucked,,, so if i miss a reply or anything, please feel free to let me know !!!

[luveline]

hi honey bun! i was just having a thought about someone coming home after a night out, a little drunk and sleepy, just crawling into bed with the reader? n maybe trying not to wake her w cuddling and such? 🥺 im so indecisive and couldn’t choose between peter or one/poly marauders, but please also feel free to disregard if it’s not the one for you! kisses xx

Sirius tries to tell them to be quiet, but James is so drunk he’s going to wake up amnesiac and Remus isn’t far behind him. Sirius has a kinder buzz, opening and then closing the door for his idiots begrudgingly. “Shush. You’ll wake her.” 

“She should be awake I miss her so much I’m gonna throw up,” James says, all in one breath. 

“That might be the Guinness,” Remus laughs. His cheeks have gone pink. Sirius thinks it’s the cutest Remus has ever looked, and he gives him an affectionate smile that’s returned tenfold. 

“Be quiet,” Sirius says. A yawn comes suddenly. “Go sit down and have some toast or something.” 

“I definitely will throw up then,” James groans, bending over in the middle of the hallway. 

Remus, despite being similarly belligerent, starts doting on him. “You okay?” he asks, bending down with a similar sigh of pain. “Come on. I’ll make you a– a glass of water.” 

Sirius has spent the night with them, so he loves them, but he misses you too much to stay. He chucks his shoes vaguely in the direction of the shelf and starts up stairs. The walls move under his hand and the bedroom door proves hard to open, but he sees you and forgets that he’s drunk. You’re laying on your side curled into a pillow, arm curled around, one leg sticking out of the quilt. 

Sirius pulls the blanket back gently, remembers he’s wearing jeans, changes out of the jeans, and slides into bed in front of you. He slowly, slowly, pulls the pillow from your arms, wrapping his arm under yours and behind your back, the other just shy of your face. Beautiful girl, he thinks, a little woozy from having suddenly changed directions. 

You mumble and hug him weakly, fingertips tickling his side. 

“For fuck’s sake!” James says somewhere downstairs. “What is this?” 

“Water, Jamie,” Remus says, quieter. “You can’t have anything else, don’t be–” A sound and a laugh. “No, kissing me won’t change my mind.” More laughing. 

Sirius tugs your hand up to smile into your palm. 

“Home?” you mumble. 

“Mm,” he hums, eyes closed and heavy but his arm awake behind your back, pulling you closer to his front. “I told them to be quiet… didn’t listen.”

“You…” you’re still stuck in the throes of sleep, and forget you’re talking. Sirius laughs a huff and you blink. “Okay?” 

“Yeah. Everything was okay. Next time I’ll stay home with you,” he promises, rubbing his nose into your cheek. 

“I liked being alone for a bit, but… missed you in the end.” 

Footsteps start up the stairs. “Sorry for waking you up,” Sirius says. 

“S’okay. Make them be nice to me.” 

That’s easy. As the door begins to open, Sirius pulls you right into his chest, as close as you can possibly be, and shushes you gently. Remus’ laughing swiftly ends, and James says, “Oh no, what’s wrong?” in his softest tone. 

James climbs over the bed still in his shoes. Remus grabs him before they can touch the sheets and takes them off, and then James crawls up behind you and hugs you, Sirius’ arms included. “Hi… my angel.” 

You ignore him with a disgruntled whine. 

“Sorry we were so loud.” 

You whine again. 

“Do you want Remus instead?” 

“No. I don’t not want Remus,” you clarify. “I’m not mad at you. Stay here.” 

Remus falls rather drunkenly in behind Sirius, forcing everyone to move over. You look for him in the tangle of arms and blankets, everyone Sirius loves rammed into one bed and exhausted. 

“Is anyone in the mood for a kiss?” James asks.

“Too tired,” you mumble. 

“Too far away. Make it up to you in the morning,” Remus says into Sirius's shoulder. Sirius is having a hard time following the conversation, distracted by the smell of your perfume and all the skin pressed to his. 

James sighs forlornly. “Fine.” A pause. “Sirius?” 

He snores. 

[buckyalpine]

Needy Dark!Bucky

Feel like I should issue a warning for this - PLS scroll all the way past this if this isn’t your thing. Maybe this should have stayed in the drafts or be deleted. But I can’t help the absolute headlock, deception, corruption, dub con, mommy and innocence kink has on me rn. 

This is fucked and dirty. 

Heed the warnings. 

Please. 

Imagine dark!Bucky taking advantage of your sweetness. You’re so soft and kind with him, helping him adjust to the new world, hardly realizing he’s damn well adjusted already and doesn’t need anyone to baby him.

But he loves when you do.

Maybe it’s because of all the shit he’s been through, touch starved, deprived of care and softness, that’s how he justifies the need to be utterly babied and taken care of by you. Fuck you’re so soft when you do it, cooing and walking him through everything, as if he doesn’t know a thing, he’s poor little fried brain.

It started with him pouting at dinner, happy to have you feed him instead. Sometimes you help him wash his hair so the shampoo doesn’t sting his eyes, sitting on the edge of the tub with a bowl of water, not minding one bit your clothes would get wet in the process. You even hold him in his sleep like a little boy because his nightmares are so scary. 

He’d taken to calling you mommy when no one else was around. 

But then he wanted more.

So much more.

“Mommy, it’s hard” he frowns with puppy eyes, standing at the doorway in just his boxer briefs', hair still dripping from the shower. His cock is straining against the fabric from the way you had massaged his scalp and gently rinsed with conditioner; the entire time you helped him, he wanted to pull your hand off his head and have you shove them down his shorts. 

“Aww, Jamie” You don’t want him to feel embarrassed over something natural, getting up and taking his hand, sitting him down on the bed, “it’s normal baby, are you feeling little right now?”

Daddy is feeling a lot of things, mommy

You’d noticed he’d slip into a different headspace when it was just you and him though you didn’t mind. He deserved a safe place to heal and relearn everything in a way that helped him. 

How he loved it. 

“A little” he shrugs, “Why is it hard?” He asks innocently, palming himself, whimpering at the feeling, spreading his legs more. He lets out a surprised moan when his hand brushes over his clothed cockhead, feigning innocence, touching himself there more at the foreign sensation. 

“Help me mommy” he takes your hand, placing it on his raging cock, “Please? Hurts, how do I make it normal” 

“Um-” You bit your lip, unsure of how to answer his questions while he continued to confusedly touch himself, rubbing his erection. “You- 

“It’s getting harder, why is my thinggy so hard” 

Go on mama, tell me why my cock is so fucking hard

“It happens sometimes baby, it’s normal though” You cup his cheek trying to comfort and reassure him. That isn’t enough for him though. 

“What-what do I call it?” He pouts, smirking on the inside, proud of his fat fucking cock that hes imagined in your hand, your mouth, your tight little pussy-

“How about we just call it your special spot for now, hm?” You rub the side of his thigh to see if helps ease him but his cock twitches instead, thigh muscles tensed under your finger tips. 

Wonder what you’d actually call it, come play with my special spot, mommy 

“Mommy, its getting wet” He looked like he’s going to cry and you can’t help but want to help him in some way, hushing him gently. 

“Okay, let me see baby” You sit across from him between his wide spread legs. He slips his thumbs into the waistband of his brief's, just enough to free his cock, his thick curved length slapping against his tummy. He pouts again, looking down at the leaky pink tip, his balls full and heavy, every part of him wishing he could just stuff himself into your cunt but he has to do this carefully. 

He’d get that eventually. 

After all, you’d never deny your baby boy. 

“Mommy is going to help you, okay?” You carefully wrap your hand around his shaft, stroking his cock up and down, focused on taking care of him, not once noticing the dark gaze he has on you while you work at his length. “You okay, Jamie?” 

“It’s all tingly, it feels good mommy” His cheeks are flushed, hips every so slightly rocking up into your hand, meeting your strokes. He only lets out soft little whimpers and babbles but his mind is screaming everything else.

That’s it mama, stroke my fucking cock. 

Jerk my dick, get all my cum out, balls are so heavy right now

Would paint that pretty face if I could, you’d look gorgeous covered in my cum

What daddy wouldn’t give to have you slobber and suck his “special spot” 

Bet your cunt is tight as fuck, wish you were a slut sometimes mommy, I’ll make you a whore soon

“I- I feel something” he pants out, pearls of precum beading at the tip, dribbling down over your fingers. You avoid stroking him too fast or hard, not wanting to overstimulate him, avoiding the tip of his cock. “It’s getting so wet, I’m making a mess” He looks down at the head of his cock with glassy eyes, another dribble of silky liquid coating your fingers. 

“You’re gonna be sensitive there baby, it’s okay, that’s just how your special spot is support to be, okay?”

“Touch- can you touch the pink part?” He whispers shyly, letting out a high pitched white when you twist your wrist around his glistening cockhead, “Don’t stop, keep touching me there” He pleads and you shift closer to him, cooing while he squirms. He takes advantage of how close you are to him, pulling you to his side and hiding his face against your neck. 

“Mommy, it feels good, I feel something-I-it feels heavy down there-” He lets his hand go down to his balls, tugging at them, sighing happily when you pull his hand away and gently cup them instead, softy massaging them with just the right pressure. 

“You can let it all out, let go Jamie, it’s okay, let it all out” You start to stroke him faster, more focused on the tip just like he asked, kissing his temple while he continues to shy away from you. 

“Let it out?” He pulls away and gives you a confused expression, seemingly not understanding, his body still thrusting into your hand while you grip him a little harder. 

“There’s gonna be lots of stuff that comes out, okay? It’ll help you feel better, I’ll clean you right up after baby, just let it all out” 

Damn right m’gonna cum hard for you, babydoll, not gonna hold back a single drop

He moans against your neck, body covered in sweat, rutting into your hand while you twist around the tip, his cock growing harder. 

“AH-MOMMY!” He practically wails, cum shooting out in hot white streams, his whole body shuddering and trembling, and endless stream of his cream getting the dark curls at the base of his cock all wet and messy. “OH MOMMMY-it’s -it’s so much”  You whisper sweet nothings to him, telling him he was so good, carefully removing your hand, letting his throbbing length slap against his belly. 

He knows he already got what he wanted but he can’t help himself, wanting just a bit more, putting his sweet pout back on, looking at you with teary eyes. 

“Kiss it better?” He’s tugging you close again, bucking his hips up a little to where he wants attention, “Please” He pleads, his softening cock still dripping with cum. 

C’mon mommy, lick me up, just suck it a little 

You know how needy he can get, and your heart hurts thinking about how different his body must be feeling, overwhelmed and overstimulated. You hush him again with a kiss to his forehead before moving down to give him affection where he needed it. His eyes grow wide, biting back a smirk, gripping the sheets to make sure he didn’t shove your head down.  

“Oh kiss it better mommy” He moans, back arching off the bed when your soft lips brush on top of his tip, pecking the sweetest comforting kiss on his frenulum, making his body jolt. 

Just put it in your mouth

“Can-can you do it again?” He asks innocently, chewing his bottom lip raw. 

“Just one more, then I have to clean you up” You place a firm kiss onto his now spent cock, before getting up and wiping him down, letting him spend the night cuddled to your chest. At some point, he asks to nurse and you can’t tell him no. He doesn’t waste a second taking your top off and latching onto your nipple, hitching his leg over you while his lips suckle. 

Sometimes you have a feeling in the back of your mind, wondering if he truly has no clue what’s happening. Then he looks at you with such innocence, there’s no way, not with those baby blue eyes and sweet pouty pink lips. 

How could you ever doubt him. 

-

On the other hand, imagine one day he catches you in an intimate moment with your hands between your legs, not realizing he was still home. He goes feral on the inside but on the outside, he’s just a lost puppy who wants to know what your doing. You struggle to explain to him what was happening, not catching the flash of hunger that he’s struggling to hide while you’re now wrapped up in your sheet to cover yourself. 

All he knows is mommy was feeling like he was that day and had to take care of her private special spot too. With that cute button he’d love to suck. 

Should’ve asked me mommy, if only you knew how good my fingers are 

“It looks like my thinggy” He points out to your toy, which you snatch away and feel your body heating up further. “Mommy, can I put my special spot inside yours?” He doesn’t give you a lot of room to protest, pleading with you, showing you how hard he is again. 

He starts off with begging, rutting himself against you, humping you like an animal while you try to soothe him but it doesn’t work. He’s thrown his clothes off lying top of you with his bare cock against your folds, desperately rubbing himself, wanting to push it in. 

“Just the pink part, please, I need it, wanna empty everything, it’s leaking mommy” 

You don’t know how or when but at some point he presses his tip into you and shoves his entire length all at once, moaning loudly and thrusting without a care in the world. You’re body and might screams that something isn’t right, unable to stop the moans that slip out of you when he hits your cunt just right, pleasure trying to drown you from reality. 

Imagine the utter filth that spills from his mouth after while your blood runs cold, realizing something doesn’t add up.

“Mommy, your special spot feels so good, so good, so. fucking. good” 

“I wanna fuck you all night mommy, your pussy is perfect”

“I touched myself thinking about you and how you stroked my dick baby, wished you would’ve just sucked my cum out instead. 

“Oh fuck, you’re tight, choking my cock baby, make me wanna bust in you so bad” 

“J-James?” You whisper, eyes growing wide, how the fuck did he know those words, what was happening. Bucky loses himself in how good you feel, no longer giving a fuck. “What-what are you saying-”

“It’s Jamie” He lets out a dark chuckle, mocking your sweet tone, dropping the act, now that he’s deep in your cunt. “Your Jamie’s cock” 

“Cock?” 

“Yeah, cock mama, my cock in your little special spot” 

Bruh I’m so sorry tf is wrong with me 💀

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

THIS BLOG IS 😍🫣😊😳

can we please get James (modern or 10s) x younger reader? They are arguing and she goes “don’t tell me what to do you’re not my father” and he goes “I’m not your father, but I’m your daddy” and completely breaks her in bed??? Like she came so many times last night that in the morning she can’t feel her legs and her whole body aches and he brings her coffee to bed and asking if she learned how to behave???

I’m such a whore for him 🤤🫣😳

Warnings: smut, use of toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m receiving), daddy kink, angst, age gap, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

All you wanted was to go on a little trip with some of your friends, James asked if he could go and you said no because it was supposed to just be you and your friends.

After that he got all upset over it, saying he wasn’t paying for shit. He liked paying for you, spoiling you, it didn’t often cross his mind that you made your own money and had some to set aside to pay for yourself.

He just wanted to be with you and didn’t see why it was such a big deal that he’d be coming along, your friends liked him well enough, didn’t they?

Sure, James was a few years -or decades- older than you, but you loved him and he loved you more than anything! Why wouldn’t they see that?

“Oh, they’d love it if I just paid for it though, huh?” He said, arms crossed over his chest as he sat on the couch, refusing to look at you and instead glaring bullet holes into the TV.

You groaned loudly, rolling your eyes. “No! They don’t want you to pay for anything! You can’t just buy people off!” He chewed his cheek at that remark. “They just want to spend time with me!”

“And they can’t do that with me there?” You threw a pillow at him, knocking him in the head and he finally turned to look at you.

“I don’t need you there because you’re not my fucking dad!” You could see something swirling in his eyes, something more than anger or frustration.

James stood up slowly and made his way over to you in a few determined strides. He pointed a finger to you, pushing on your chest as he towered over you. “I might not be your dad but you know damn well I’m your fucking daddy.” You swallowed thickly, already feeling yourself getting wet as his blue eyes bore into you.

He lifted you up and tossed you over his shoulder effortlessly, giving your ass a firm smack. You bit down on your lip, refusing to make a sound. The fight wasn’t over, just on pause -if that’s what James wanted.

As he carried you he pulled off your clothes, dragging your jeans down your thighs along with your panties so he had free access to your needy cunt, easily taking two of his fingers already. He wasn’t going easy on you, fingers moving faster, only pulling out to smack your ass every few seconds because you were squirming too much.

He tossed you onto the bed, mind already fuzzy and a knot already building in your gut. He stared down at you a moment, thinking about how to punish you.

“C’mere.” He said, patting the edge of the bed. You crawled down and flipped over onto your back, looking up at him eagerly.

He went to the dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a massage wand. He smiled as he brought it over to you and used your pants to hold it up right against your clit, a makeshift torture device when he hit the button and it started whirring against your bundle of nerves.

You were a whining mess in minutes, James hovering over you, pinching and flicking your perky nipples. You couldn’t take it much longer, already feeling the knot coming undone, James just smiled down at you as you twitched and squirmed against the toy. “Jamie! Jamie, m’so close, I can’t-can’t-!”

“Can’t cum without daddy.” He finished for you. “you can have your vacation but you know it won’t be the same without me, sweetheart.” You whined loudly, eyes rolling back as you came. He didn’t touch the toy, letting it continue and overstimulate you.

He got up and undid his jeans, pulling them down enough for his hard cock to hit you in the face. A wicked grin came to his face as he tapped your with his leaky tip, smearing pre-cum over your cheeks before pushing past your lips.

You gagged around him, borderline choking on his length as he thrusted mercilessly down your throat, groaning at the sensation. You could feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge again, tears brimming your eyes from it all.

You held the sheets in a death grip, struggling to stay still for him as another wave of pleasure washed over you.

The vibrator was starting to hurt, constant buzzing between your legs bringing more out of you, with every high they just came quicker and harder, tears now streaming down your cheeks.

James was still using your mouth like a fleshlight, not caring if you were crying or in pain. He saw the drool dribbling over your jaw, mixing with his pre. He was twitching down your throat, pulsing before he finally came with a few loud groans, his head falling back in ecstasy.

He pulled out of you. You coughed, a few sobs ripping from your throat. “Please!” You cried, voice hoarse, it hurt to say anything. “Make it stop, make it stop!” James smiled down at you, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Aw, my poor baby hurts?” He asked in a mocking tone. “Needs daddy to make her feel better?”

You nodded. “Please, daddy, please! It-it hurts, it hurts, daddy!” He moved to sit on the bed, finally turning the toy off and taking it away from you.

He helped you out of your clothes, they were sticking uncomfortably to your sweaty skin, body twitching, aching and shuddering at every feather light touch. James didn’t care, he had his plans and seeing how you were reacting to his gentleness in the moment only got him more excited for when he got to be rough again.

Your chest rose and fell hard, heaving as you continued to cry, unable to stop the sobs slipping past your lips. James got up and started taking off his own clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing the pudge of his stomach, pudge he always seemed self-conscious of but you loved. You loved laying your head on his stomach, or grinding down on it like a pillow, but it was better because it was James guiding your hips, moving you farther down until you were riding his dick and throwing your head back.

He dropped his jeans completely along with his boxers and crawled back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around so your head was on the pillows and he was hovering over you again, pinning you down.

“How are you, darling?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you. “Feeling alright? S’not too much?” He was concerned for your well-being, but if he kept asking it would ruin the whole mood, he’d ask you sporadically to make sure you were still enjoying it, he’d listen if you told him to stop and he needed you to know that.

You sniffled and nodded. “M’good.” You said simply.

“Good.” He said, kissing you again. “Because you need to learn a lesson, don’t you?” He asked, not waiting for a response before he pushed into you, wasting no time as he pistoned his hips into yours just as he had done with your mouth.

Your moans and cries bounced off the walls, back arching as you came again, let’s shaking on either side of him. His words echoed through your mind as he grunted in your ears, nothing but degrading comments, “you dumb fucking slut, you fucking love this, don’t you? Love being used by daddy, love being fucked stupid, you’ve got nothing going through that thick fucking skull of yours, got nothing but daddy, huh?” And all you could do was agree.

The room was dark, curtains pulled over the windows to block the light from coming through. Everywhere was a dull ache and you couldn’t move your legs no matter how hard you tried, not that you were really trying.

You weren’t lying in yours and James’s bed, he carried you to a guest room because there was no way he was letting you sleep in that fill, sheets soaked and stained. He tossed them in the washer when he woke up but he didn’t think it would do much and already had a garbage bag ready for them, planning to get another set later that day.

The door creaked open and he came in with a tray of food, smiling when he saw you were awake. “Morning, darling, sleep good?” He asked as he sat down beside you, setting the tray on your lap after helping you to sit up.

You nodded, looking over the selection of a yogurt bowl, granola and fruits mixed in it, a cup of coffee just the way you like it on side, a banana cut up in a bowl drizzled with chocolate. “Slept good.” You said, voice raw.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you and held you tighter to his side. “I’m glad, sweetheart, ‘cause that’s how I’m gonna get you to sleep every night until you leave.”

You looked up at him. “Jamie, you can’t do that, I won’t be able to move.”

He smiled proudly down at you. “Well, I suppose I could be more reasonable, if you let me come with you.” He leaned down closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I just want to fuck you in our hotel room, on the balcony, take you somewhere pretty off tour.”

It took a lot of convincing for your friends to let you bring him along, they didn’t like him and they didn’t like that he was this protective of you. They didn’t like how much older he was than you, they didn’t like anything about this situation and it was evident. Every day of your trip you were seeing more and more how your friends were pushing away from you, it hurt but James was there every night to comfort you.

He was ruining you, in a few ways, but he made it better. At least, he made it seem that way.

[nameless-jamie]

Airport Disaster

A Jamie Tartt Short Story/Imagine

Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!personal assistant reader

A/N: Thinking of turning this into a series. Tell me your thoughts!

Y/N had never been so ready for a flight to be over before it even began. Standing at the check-in counter with Jamie Tartt, she couldn’t help but let out a small groan. The security line was a nightmare, and Jamie—being the absolute chaos magnet that he was—was already in the middle of yet another distraction.

“Jamie,” Y/N said, trying to keep her voice steady as she passed over the tickets. “Focus. We need to check in or we’ll miss the flight.”

She had to give it to Jamie—he could make even the simplest tasks feel like a full-blown mission. It had started innocently enough: a flight for an away game, some standard prep work, and Jamie’s usual distracted self. As his personal assistant Y/N's job seemed simple enough, get Jamie there on time, keep him happy, healthy and entertained. But as usual, he was making it way more difficult than it needed to be.

“Jamie, where's your passport!” Y/N snapped, spotting Jamie rummaging through his backpack, the airport floor now buried under a pile of random merchandise and stuff. “Come on, we don’t have all day!”

Jamie went pale for a second. “Er—uh—of course I have it. It’s… it’s in my pocket.”

Except it wasn't.

“Jamie, are you serious?” she asked, annoyance creeping into her voice as he rummaged through his bag again in an exaggerated manner. He kept pulling out everything but the passport, muttering to himself in frustration.

Y/N sighed. “How do you forget the one thing you always need?”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m the only one who’s forgetful.” He flashed her a grin, clearly trying to deflect.

She narrowed her eyes but said nothing as he repacked his bag. They both did a double-take when Jamie’s passport finally showed up inside a single mismatched sock that was in his bag.

“Really?” Y/N said, unable to suppress a laugh despite your frustration.

He shrugged, smug as ever. “I mean, I could have hidden it in the glove compartment of my car, but this was way more fun.”

“You’re a mess,” she muttered as both hurried to the gate, their shoes slapping against the smooth airport floors. "I should pack your bags for you. I've gotta remember that for next time..."

It wasn’t even noon, and she’d been already running around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to get Jamie Tartt to remember his passport, his ticket, his—well, his life.

“Jamie,” Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “can you please just put the cologne down? We have a flight to catch.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just window shoppin'!” he said with a dismissive wave, but not before getting distracted by another duty-free cologne display again. He pulled out a shiny new bottle and waved it under her nose. “What do you think? Too strong? Too subtle? I need something that screams ‘I’m here to break hearts.’”

Y/N shot him a tired glance, replying sarcastically. “Jamie, you already break hearts just by showing up. Now put that down, we’re going to miss the flight.”

His lips quirked upward in a smile, but he reluctantly placed the bottle back. “You know, you’d look way less stressed if you just let me handle things." He said while massaging her shoulders a little. "You need to take a break, Y/N. Maybe we should get a drink before we board?”

Y/N has been Jamie's personal assistant for about a year now. They upgraded their work relationship to a close friendship ages ago. Seems like Y/N is the only one who can really tolerate Jamie on a daily basis, and he's the only one who can calm her down.

“Jamie, I’m already handling everything. And you’re not helping,” she replied, trying to herd him toward the security check line.

Jamie rolled his eyes dramatically. “I’m helping in my own way, darlin'. You need to loosen up. Or you'll lose that pretty little head of yours.”

He was always like this, throwing around compliments or teasing her just to see her fluster. She tried her best to stay professional, but it was hard to ignore how easy it was for him to get under her skin, especially when he looked so damn carefree and charming, despite being an absolute disaster when it came to getting things done.

The real chaos began when they reached security.

Y/N passed through with no issues, but Jamie was flagged for a random pat-down. He threw his hands up in protest. “Are you serious? I’m a professional footballer, mate. I'm fucking famous.”

Y/N could only roll her eyes as the security officer motioned for Jamie to step to the side. “You can’t be serious right now,” she muttered, rubbing her temples. “We’re going to miss this flight.”

But Jamie was too busy pouting and making ridiculous faces at the officer. "Oi, don't touch me fuckin' hair, mate" He turned to Y/N, barely holding back a laugh. “Hey, hey, it’s fine. Chill, we're good on time. Y/N, I think I’m getting picked on here. This is just unfair.”

“Yeah, well, life isn’t always fair,” Y/N muttered under her breath, already imagining how much longer this was going to take.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they made it through security, and Y/N was feeling the weight of her job, trying to keep Jamie on track for the flight. Her phone buzzed—more emails, more last-minute work. She sighed, clutching it as they made their way to the gate.

“Can we please focus on getting to the gate before we miss the flight?” Y/N grumbled, but she felt her nerves coil up in a mix of annoyance and something else entirely—something she was trying very hard to ignore.

But Jamie, ever the showman, wasn’t finished teasing her. “You’re all business, aren’t you?” He leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth, as if he was sharing a secret. “Makes it that much more fun when you let loose.”

Y/N turned on her heel, shaking her head. “Not happening.”

Despite her irritation, she couldn’t help but notice the way he was staring after her like he could see through her carefully constructed walls.

“Y/N, chill,” Jamie said from behind her, sounding way too smug for someone who’d caused the delay. “You're making your job harder than it needs to be. If you just followed my lead, things’d be way easier.”

“Really? ‘Cause that’s worked out so well for us so far, Mr. Passport-in-his-fucking-sock” Y/N shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jamie grinned, oblivious to her annoyance. “Well, maybe it would if you stopped being such a workaholic.”

The two of them finally boarded the plane, and Jamie immediately flopped into his seat with all the grace of a toddler. Y/N sat next to him, already trying to mentally prepare herself for the long flight ahead.

As the plane started to taxi, Y/N found her nerves creeping up again. It wasn’t the flying itself, but the lack of control. The confined space. The takeoff. She could feel her anxiety creeping up, the tightness in her chest, the unease at the thought of being cooped up in an airplane for hours. She hated flying. Every time, it was the same—her hands went clammy, her heart raced, and the moment the plane started to lift off, she couldn’t help but hold her breath until it leveled out.

Jamie noticed the subtle shift in her demeanor, her posture stiffening. “You okay?” His voice was softer now, the usual playfulness gone. “You don’t look so good.”

Y/N shook her head quickly, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine. Just... just not great with planes.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her palms were already clammy.

Jamie cocked his head to the side. “You? Scared of flying? Nah, I don’t buy it. You're scared of nothin'.”

“It’s not about being scared. It’s just... uncomfortable,” Y/N muttered, pressing her hands against her knees.

“You’re serious?” Jamie raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You’ve got the best seats on the plane, and you’re telling me you're uncomfortable, darlin' ?"

“It's not that simple,” she muttered, glancing away. “It’s just... I don’t love the feeling of being out of control.”

Jamie’s expression softened, his usual teasing demeanor replaced with something more thoughtful. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got you covered,” he said, his voice low and steady. He gave her a wink, his cocky grin returning, but it was a little warmer than usual. “If anything goes wrong, you’ve got me. I’m good at handling these things.”

“I’ll make sure you’re fine,” Jamie added with another smirk, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

Y/N shot him a dubious look. “I think you’re overestimating yourself.”

“Am I, though?” His tone dropped to something undeniably flirtatious. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m the best person you could have by your side. You ever seen me in action? I can keep you calm and collected... or at least distract you enough to forget you’re on a plane.”

“Jamie, no,” Y/N said quickly, cutting him off. “Please, just... let me have five minutes of peace before you start to get on my nerves again.”

He laughed, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes, something softer. He leaned back in his seat, letting her have a moment of quiet. It didn’t last long, though.

“If you need a hand to hold, just let me know,” he whispered, his voice laced with an intimacy that made her stomach flip.

Y/N’s heart skipped, but she played it cool, looking straight ahead. “I’ll be fine. You just focus on not making the flight any more complicated.”

“Oh, I’m not complicated,” Jamie said, getting comfortable in the seat next to her, clearly enjoying the game they were playing. “I’m easy. But for you? I’ll make an exception.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t shake the smile that threatened to break out. God, he was trouble.

As the plane hit a light turbulence, Y/N felt her chest tighten, but this time, she didn't feel as alone. Jamie’s presence beside her was oddly comforting, and when he gently placed his hand near hers on the armrest, she couldn’t resist the urge to let her fingers brush against his, just for a second. Then she finally gave in and held his hand.

His grin was smug as ever, but there was something in his eyes that made her heart race for a different reason.

“See?” Jamie murmured, his voice teasing. “Told you, you’re in good hands.”

Half an hour into the flight, and Y/N could feel herself getting drowsy. The lack of sleep and constant stress from the airport chaos were catching up to her. She tried to focus on her phone, but her eyelids kept fluttering.

Jamie noticed again, his usual teasing replaced with something gentler. “You’re seriously gonna fall asleep on me, huh?”

Y/N didn’t even have the energy to reply, her head tipping forward slowly, her body too tired to fight it. Before she knew it, her head was resting on Jamie’s shoulder, and the world around her blurred out.

Jamie raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Look at you, all snuggled up. I should be the one getting some rest, not you.”

Y/N mumbled something incoherent, too far gone in her exhaustion to respond properly.

Jamie chuckled softly, not moving away. “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman. Otherwise, I’d tease you about this for the next week. But I guess I’ll let it slide... for now.”

As the minutes passed, though, the teasing energy faded. Jamie watched her sleeping form, her face relaxed in a way he’d never seen it before—vulnerable and peaceful. His gaze softened, his usual cocky grin slowly fading into something more tender. His chest tightened in an unfamiliar way, something warm spreading through him as he let his gaze linger on her.

He didn’t know when exactly it had happened, but somewhere between all the jokes, the teasing, and the playful flirtations, he’d fallen for her. Not just for the moments where she made him laugh or the way she kept him on his toes. It was this—seeing her here, completely unaware of his eyes on her, looking like she actually trusted him. The world felt quieter when she was near. She was the one who kept him together.

Jamie gently shifted in his seat, careful not to wake her. He leaned his head back, his thumb absently brushing the edge of his seat as he let himself get lost in the feeling. She was his assistant, sure. But somewhere along the way, she’d become so much more than that. The way her eyes sparkled when she challenged him, the way her smile made his heart race—he realized, maybe for the first time, that it was all starting to mean something.

Her hair, mussed from the flight, and the way she looked so content against him—he couldn’t help but feel a little possessive of the moment. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and even though he usually had to be the one in control, in that moment, he felt like maybe he didn’t need to be.

“You’re something else, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Something really special.”

When she woke up, she found herself still leaning on him, her face flushed from the heat of the cabin and the awkward position she’d ended up in. Jamie was looking at her with that signature grin, but it was different this time—more teasing than smug.

“Well, well,” he said, a little too loud for her liking, “looks like I’ve got myself a nap buddy. You really couldn’t resist me, huh?”

Jamie’s voice was lower now, softer. “You know,” he said, his tone teasing but with a subtle hint of something else, “I didn’t expect to be your pillow for the flight.”

She felt her face heat up and pulled away slightly. “I—I didn’t mean to—” Y/N groaned, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. “I wasn’t planning on this, okay?”

“No worries.” His voice was quiet but amused. “It was actually kinda nice.”

She tried to hide the flush that had crept up her neck. “Yeah, well... you don’t need to get used to it.”

Jamie gave a small chuckle. “Oh, I’m very used to it now.” His voice dropped to something teasingly serious. “I might even start thinking of myself as your personal travel companion.”

Y/N shot him a look, but the teasing glint in his eyes made it hard to keep the irritation up. “Don’t push it,” she muttered, but it was half-hearted, more to avoid the weird flutter in her chest than to genuinely keep him in check.

“Oh, I won’t tell anyone... yet,” Jamie teased, clearly enjoying every second of it.

Y/N gave him another sharp look, but deep down, she was grateful for the moment of peace. Even if it came with Jamie Tartt’s signature brand of chaos.

[scoonsalicious]

3.3 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, brunch, toxic plants.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Your coworkers warned you about the history of the Winter Soldier.

A/N: Time for Brunch!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Bucky held the diner door open, allowing Lily to walk in first. It was a sort of tradition of theirs– brunch every other Saturday at Melinda’s, a cute little cafe about a twenty minute drive from the Compound– that they’d been doing for years now.

“I’m so glad to finally be spending some time together,” Lily said as she slid into their usual booth by the window. “I feel like it’s been ages.”

Bucky chuckled as he picked up his menu– not like he didn’t already know exactly what he was going to get: a black coffee, scrambled eggs with sausage and bacon, a plate of home fries, and a short stack of chocolate chip pancakes. “Lil, we hung out last night,” he told her.

“Last night doesn’t count,” she pouted, picking up a sugar packet from the little ceramic container on the table and beginning to play with it. 

Bucky put down the menu. “Why not?” he asked.

Before she could answer him, the waitress came to take their order. Bucky liked her– Mya; she was always friendly and put an extra pancake on the pile for him, free of charge.

“Hey there, Buck,” she greeted warmly, “Lily. Good to see you two again.”

“Hey, Mya,” Bucky replied with a dazzling smile. “How are you this morning? How’s Frankie?” Mya was a single mother, working two jobs, so Bucky always made sure to tip well and inquire about her son.

“He’s good, Buck; thanks for asking. He really appreciates the autographed Avengers picture you got for him; brought it to school for Show & Tell and everything.”

Bucky laughed good naturedly. “My pleasure,” he said. “They always make us take those dumb publicity photos; figured something good should come outta them.”

“Well, he’s very grateful, all the same,” she said with a grin. “How are–”

“I’ll take a Cobb salad, no bacon, dressing on the side, and a Diet Sprite. Thank you,” Lily interjected, smile tight.

Mya blinked a few times before replying “Yeah, sure, absolutely,” as if she hadn’t just been interrupted. She turned to Bucky. “The usual for you, Buck?” she asked.

“Yeah, please. Thanks, Mya.” Mya took their menus and, promising their food would be right out, walked away. Bucky followed her with his eyes to make sure she was well out of earshot before he turned back to Lily. “What the hell, Lil?” he asked her.

“What?” she asked, seemingly nonchalantly. “I’m hungry.”

“So, you couldn’t wait five seconds for her to finish speaking?” he asked accusingly. 

“Hey, she gets paid to serve, not to flirt,” Lily snapped. 

Bucky rolled his eyes as he leaned back. “You always think everyone’s flirting with me. We were just talking about her kid. What is with you today?”

Lily sighed and looked up at him, blue eyes turning sad. “I’m sorry– I’m just tired. I told you, I didn’t sleep well last night, and it’s making me cranky. Don’t be too mad at me, okay, Jamie?” She smiled and reached her hand across the table to grab his. “It’s your fault, after all.” She winked at him.

Bucky smiled and squeezed her hand. “I told you I was sorry,” he said. “And now I’m making it up to you by buying you brunch. Gotta take care of my best girl, right?” Lily beamed at him. 

“Right,” she agreed with a nod. “Hey, just out of curiosity, where did you end up staying last night? Did you go back to the Tower?” Though Tony Stark had moved the Avengers operation to the Compound Upstate, he still utilized the Tower for Stark Industries, and kept apartments available there for the team to use if they found themselves in the city overnight.

Bucky pulled his hand back from hers and scratched the back of his neck. Lily squinted her eyes at him, and he knew he’d just revealed a sure tell that he’d done something she’d not be pleased with. 

“Oh my god, Bucky,” Lily said angrily. “Do not tell me you stayed the night with Nat’s friend.” The way she said ‘friend,’ with her voice getting incredibly shrill at the end, had Bucky inwardly cringing. 

“Well, by the time I got her back to her place,” Bucky defended, “it was already pouring. Wouldn’t’ve been safe for me to head back in those conditions.”

Lily seemed to be mulling over his words. “I guess,” she said, after a moment. “So, what? You sleep on the couch?”

For some reason, Bucky couldn’t get the words out to tell his best friend the truth– that, no, he hadn’t slept on Major’s couch. In fact, he’d slept on her bed, but it didn’t really count, because the two of them had hardly done any sleeping at all. Instead, he just brought his coffee cup to his lips, took a long sip, and nodded.

“Good,” said Lily, seeming satisfied with his answer. “I don’t like the idea of you hanging out with her. She was a total bitch.”

Bucky frowned. He realized that the interaction between Major and Lily last night had been… tense, but he fully hadn’t expected that she would call Major a bitch and tell him she didn’t want him to spend time with her. “She was just defending herself, Lil,” he said cautiously. “You were kinda out of line with that anti-girly stuff.”

Lily gave him a wounded look. “I cannot believe you would take the side of a complete stranger over your own best friend,” she said, looking affronted. “She was incredibly rude to me.”

Mya returned then with their meals, and Bucky waited until she had walked away before continuing: “I’m not siding with anyone. I just think you should take into consideration that you were rude to her, first, Lil. She was acting defensive because you put her on the defensive.” 

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Lily crossed her arms, pouting.

“Lil, doesn’t it bother you that you don’t have any female friends?” he asked carefully.

She scoffed. “What do I need female friends for?” she asked. “They just wanna talk about stupid girl shit and it’s dull and boring. Besides, I have you. I don’t need other friends.”

It struck Bucky then how very sad that seemed. Sure, he didn’t have many friends, himself; just Steve, Lily, Sam, and the team, but he was a 100-plus year old, formerly brainwashed, ex-assassin with PTSD and a list of issues a mile long, so it was to be expected. But Lily? Surely a young, vibrant person like her should be hanging with more people than just him?

“This was what Major was talking about,” Bucky said gently, choosing to ignore his observation for the time being. “You can think feminine things are dull, and boring, but it’s not fair of you to consider them stupid just because you don’t enjoy them. And it’s definitely not cool of you to look down on people who do.”

To Bucky’s dismay, Lily’s bottom lip began to tremble, and he feared she was going to start crying. “Why are you mad at me?” she pouted. 

Bucky felt his facial features soften as he looked at her. “I’m not mad at you, Lil. I just think that, maybe, you should reconsider your stance on some things, that’s all.”

Lily seemed to consider his words for a moment, before she broke out into a giant grin. “Okay, Jamie,” she said, digging back into her Cobb salad. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll do better.”

Well, Bucky thought, that went better than expected.

They ate companionably for a while after that, sharing small talk and enjoying each other’s company. When it came time to leave, Bucky paid the bill, making sure to leave a little extra for Mya to make up for Lily’s earlier rudeness. 

As they were walking out, Lily interlocked her arm with his. “Do you want to do a movie night at my place tonight?” she asked. Since Lily was a member of SHIELD, and not an Avenger proper, she didn’t have an apartment at the Compound. Instead, like most of the other agents who were based there, she had a place of her own in town. Usually, Bucky relished spending time at her place, where it was quiet and far less crowded. 

But then Bucky remembered he’d asked Major out to dinner for this evening. “Shit, Lil,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his vibranium hand. “I can’t tonight; I’m sorry.”

“What, you abandoning me for a hot date or something?” The words were phrased as a joke, but there was an edge to her voice that told Bucky she was genuinely afraid that was why he was saying no.

He let out a forced laugh. “Of course not,” he said, immediately wondering why he was lying to her. “I just, uh, promised Sam we’d do a guys’ night. You know how he gets if he thinks people aren’t paying enough attention to him.”

Lily scoffed. “He’s such a fucking drama queen,” she said.

“Heh, yeah.” Bucky sent out a silent apology to both Major and Sam for the lie, and hoped he could get Sam to back him up on it. He had told Bucky he’d be his wingman when it came to Major, after all.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[kitty-tea]

Distracted

Link to masterlist

NSFW 18+ only!

Paring: Student!James Potter x Teacher!Reader

Warnings: smut, sexual content, oral sex, sex dreams, extremely filthy, small age gap (James is 18, reader’s age is early twenties,) teacher/student relationship

Summary: Your student James Potter doesn’t seem to be able to concentrate in class and you want to know why.

WC: 1.7k

A/N: Hello, I just want to say I don’t support student/teacher relationships in real life and this is just fictional, but this was interesting to write!

James can’t concentrate in class today even though he knows the material that’s being covered in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He usually prides himself to be one of the best in the subject. It’s been that way in the past. It wasn’t like being cocky was his entire personality because James made sure to study as much as possible during his free time. After all, who doesn’t want to impress their favorite teacher? Especially if the teacher happens to be a young and pretty woman.

He can’t ignore the twitch under his trousers everytime you look in his direction or turn around, the natural swaying of your hips emphasized by the way your skirt hugs your body. He was never one to think these thoughts in class about anyone. Until you started teaching in his last year of school.

Even though you weren’t much older than him, James barely remembers you from your time as a student other than that you didn’t have much in common with him other than being in the same house.

At first James didn’t know he had it in him to fantasize about doing such lewd things with you while you were right next to him. The first time you called him out in front of the whole class for not paying attention, his face went bright red while his friends laughed at him. Then it kept happening again and again. At this point he’s almost too afraid to find out whether you’re skilled at Legilimency.

James mentally plans out what he’ll do about his failing grades as he sees the other students pack up their things, and he hastily follows their actions.

Once he sees the last students other than himself close the door behind them, he swallows a thick lump in his throat as he takes slow steps towards where you are standing in front of your desk with your back to him, too busy arranging papers.

As quickly as James comes to a stop behind you, you turn around gasping with a hand to your chest.

“Sorry, Professor.” James tries to sound as sincere as he can. “I apologize for startling you.”

“That’s alright, Jamie.” Your voice comes out sounding as soft as your lips look, and he is alarmed at how his trousers suddenly feel tight around the crotch area as you shorten his name. Please, please don’t look down. He silently prays, as he regrets not wearing his robes over his uniform to help hide what he didn’t want you to see.

“What can I do for you?” You ask.

It takes a bit too long for him to answer even though he knows what he wants to say. “I… was wondering i-if you have a moment to talk about my grades?” Why was that so difficult to get out? And why is he always stammering like a damn fool everytime he has to talk to you?

“Of course. Why don’t you take a seat?” You give him that same familiar smile that he spends many nights thinking about as he gives into his filthy thoughts about you after his friends had long gone to sleep in their shared room.

Being as hypnotized as he always is by the sound of your voice, he does exactly as you say, and takes another gulp of air as he sees you sit right on top of the desk crossing your legs, your ass right next to where his hands are folded.

James doesn’t know what else to do other than to look up at you, being reminded of your position of authority over him. He lets his eyes trail from head to toe, starting with the neat bun on top of your head accented by the short strands of hair framing your face, to your glasses which emphasizes your eyeliner, before his eyes dip down to your white, form fitting blouse that if he squints long enough he’s convinced he can see the outline of your bra. He can’t help but to admire how you’re wearing all black on your lower body, your skirt already riding up, letting him see your thighs that were covered with black nylons, making the silhouette of your legs look sleek and elegant along with the matching heels which you casually let dangle off one of your feet.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been distracted today, Jamie.” You say, leaning back on one hand while resting your other hand on your thigh. From an outsider's perspective, it looks like you’re trying to seduce him, and he’s almost convinced that’s what you’re doing. “I’m glad you came to me for help. I know you’re one of the best students in your year, and as your teacher I wouldn’t want you to fail this class. Especially because it’s your last year.” You say in that soft tone that makes him feel dizzy, and his breathing comes out shallow.

“What’s wrong Jamie?” You scrunch up your eyebrows in a way that looks innocent, but James knows better than to think you don’t know the effect you have on him.

“I’m sorry I got distracted. I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.” James looks down as soon as his cheeks redden.

“Be honest, Jamie.” You take your hand that’s resting on your leg and gently place it on his chest, right where he feels his breath being sucked out as his heart beats faster than ever. “Am I the reason you get distracted in class?” You lean forward even more as you wait for him to answer. In the meantime, your eyes don’t leave his as you trail your hand from his chest to his shoulder before rubbing circles over the tense muscles.

“I… Yes?” James breathes out, almost grunting. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying or agreeing to just that you’re so close to him and touching him so lightly yet making him feel so much.

“I thought so.” You smirk as you bite your lip and bat your eyelashes at him. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?”

Yes, he is. Because James wants nothing more than for you to praise him and keep calling him a good boy as he gets high from the scent of your perfume and the feel of your hands on him.

You don’t say anything as you let go of his shoulder and stand up. You then hold your hand out for him to take, which he does. Even with your high heels he’s still taller than you, so you have to balance on your toes as you place both hands on his shoulders this time.

You look up at him as you place a gentle kiss on his lips. He moans deeper into the kiss as you move your lips in sync with his before letting go.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” You ask him. He shakes his head. “Did you like it?” He nods thinking of how dumb he must look.

“I can give you more. Don’t you want me to make you feel good, Jamie?” Fuck. He doesn’t know how many times you can call him that until he feels like cumming just from you talking to him. He lets out what must be the millionth shaky breath as he feels your delicate fingers slide from his shoulders to somewhere dangerously close to the spot that’s evident of his desire for you.

Your eyes look down to where the tent in his trousers are before going up to his flushed face and giving him a smirk.

“What do you want, Jamie?” You ask him. “You want me to fuck you with my mouth that you can’t stop staring at?” He’s so shocked at hearing you use a swear word in front of him for the first time that he can’t move any of his body parts besides his neck which he uses to nod.

“Ugh, you’re so hard and ready.” You sigh as you get down on your knees and unbuckle his belt. Your hand gives his cock a once over before taking it out of the confines of his boxers.

“Be a good boy and stay still.” You tell him as you wrap your small hand around his length and stroke the tip with your thumb.

As if it couldn’t get any better, James looks down and sees your soft lips bobbing up and down on his hard cock, and he almost loses it. He doesn’t know if he’s losing his sanity or his ability to talk, maybe both. He knows he wants to cum so badly, and he can’t get enough of you.

With every breath James takes, he can feel himself get even more dizzy until he almost can’t take it anymore.

“James, James. Come on, wake up. Class is over.” Your hand gently shakes his shoulder.

James groggily opens his eyes as he lifts his head up to the sound of your voice. “Wh-What’s going on?” He rubs his eyes under his glasses.

“You fell asleep while everyone else was doing their writing assignment. Everyone else is gone and I’ve been trying to wake you up for a minute.” You tell him. From the lack of ink on his paper, you can tell he didn’t even start it at all before dozing off.

“Are you alright?” You ask him, genuinely concerned for his well-being.

You can tell he really is an intelligent person, but his head always seems to be somewhere else when he’s around you. You don’t know what it is about him that makes him act the way he does in your class when you’ve only heard the other teachers rave about him being one of the best students.

“How about you stay with me for a bit before you go to lunch? You can tell me what’s going on. And help me grade papers for extra credit. It seems like you had a nice dream, though.” It may be very subtle, but you catch the way James widens his eyes and tenses his jaw, like he’s scared of you finding out something. You don’t know what the big deal seems to be. You’ve made it clear that you’re not one to judge, you just want for him to open up to you, let him know you’re here for him.

“Sure.” James scratches the back of his head as you give him a smile.

You’re very curious as to what’s going on with him, and you’re determined to find out.

[whimsical-roasting]

You reblogged that Sam gifs post and it reminded me of that headcanon i have of being Sam’s friend but you’re feisty and take no one’s shit. Like he’s always takes the high road and you’re like when they go low i go lowER. I would fight that Akufo dude for him no questions asked.

hi wifey <3 you are absolutely right!! i fucking love that idea of Sam having a bestie who'd throw hands for him.. it's on sight all the time.

special thanks to @sokkigarden for bouncing ideas off me, love you bby. okay, i wanna write about being friends w the AFC Richmond boys more, so if yall have ANY thoughts on being friends with ANY of the lads then send me requests on it so we can DISCUSS

OKAY BUT BEING BESTIES WITH SAM OBISANYA

he's such a wholesome and loyal friend... a breath of fresh air yknow?? Dani is more of that 'unconditional sunshine' energy, but Sam is positive whilst still keeping it real w you

and sooo you're hella loyal to him too. well, you're loyal to everyone you care about. you'd take a bullet for them, no questions asked, but probs a lot of cussing involved (same, but i'll come back to this)

sharing an airpod each if yall go out on a walk or join the team on a bus ride - if you're dating jamie then he NEEDS you next to him on the ride back, probs uses your shoulder to sleep on and has an arm around your waist so you can't leave, but that's a diff post ahahaha

having a shared spotify playlist that you both keep adding music too...the vibes are all over the place. "Y/N, I was trying to jam out to J.Cole, and then Adele came on??" "Oh yea, I was sad bout something earlier"

blanket forts and microwaveable caramel popcorn for when he's missing home

playing as him in FIFA when you're with the lads and yellin "YEA THATS MY BESTIE" every time you score as him

pinching his earlobes like his dad would for good luck on the days of a big match/when he's really nervous

since opening OLA'S, you join him when he attends small business owner conventions, but that's mainly to try the free food

since i'm vegetarian, telling him that his menu looks great but you can only stick to sumn like the jollof rice.. so next month when he invites you over to his restaurant for a catchup dinner there's a whole new lil section for vegetarian dishes on the menu (or whatever dietary inclusivr thingy etc.)

warning Sam about Afuko because "a man simply doesn't feed you pasta and lobster and send you a stack without something in mind" and him being like ??? what and you groan, "did you watch the tiktoks I sent you??"

hearing about how the Afuko rejection went and Sam only focusses on "he called me medium talent??" and you're SEETHING

you're like "what the living F U C K" and he's like "oh hey Y/N, don't worry, I know I am not medium talent" and you're like "what? no, shut up, obviously not, but that's not the POINT here. how did that ASSHOLE have the audacity to speak to you like that?!!"

you're searching up flights to Nigeria and opening a google map from the airport to Afuko's business residence or something, and Sam is like, "seriously, forget that guy. bullet dodged." and you're angrily muttering about how Afuko's gonna have to dodge the bazooka you're gonna smuggle onto the plane

"We cannot be best friends if you end up in jail because you tried to smuggle a bazooka onto the plane." "I just wanna talk to him...with a bazooka." "No." "Pleas-" "No."

telling Sam you might be getting feelings for Jamie and being nervous he'd be mad because of their relationship in S1, but you promise he's changed, and Sam is like, I know

wearing the Obisanya jersey and the rest of the boys are like 'hey why don't you ever support our merch' so like every match you're switching out jerseys before texting a pic to the groupchat

running into that Francis guy who's Afuko's right-hand man and "accidentally" stepping on his foot real hard like OOPS

giving him updates on your love life and vice versa. "Y/N, please tell me this one is not a loser." "Um, Sam, shut up; you know my rizz only seems to work on losers??" "hey, Jamie told me that telling a woman my favourite movie is Ratatouille is a bad idea... is it?" "just bake her a lasagna or something and say that's how you learnt to cook." "I am not doing that." "dammit, I thought we'd get lasagna for dinner"

doing random tiktok trends or challenges - the baking one where one person is blind, one is deaf, and one is mute, but they all gotta work together to bake a cake!! sam (tape around his mouth) x you (blindfolded) x jamie (loud ass headphones on)

jamie: pass the FOOKIN sugah!! *back turned to yall as he stirs the mix*

you: WHAT. WHERE. *randomly smacking shit, picking up the salt and dropping it on the counter and onto a spoon*

sam: mmmhnph! *waving his hands in your face like NO but you can't see*

you: *turning to jamie with a spoonful, which he probs tastes absentmindedly whilst stirring* OI TASTE THIS

jamie: FOOKS SAKE

[intrepidacious]

dangerous game

summary: After another frustrating day of rehearsals, Derek offers to help you relax.

pairing: derek wills x f!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: smut (18+ only!!), semi-public mirror sex, fingering (f receiving); unprofessional behaviour at best; derek being an asshole; mostly unedited; please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: let me tell y'all, being in bed with an absolutely awful cold for days on end is one hell of a way to remember that you have free will. and while i truly can't do much at the moment, what i can do is post my incredibly niche smut. honestly, no prior knowledge of the show required, this is mostly me going feral.

masterlist | read on ao3

You can feel your blood thrum in your ears with every step, your movements strong and precise despite your exhaustion. Your chin stays up, five-six-sidestep-eight, don’t look down, hold that note, smile at Jamie, turn around—

"Stop."

—don’t glance over, kick-two-and-four-and-what-was-the-line, turn left into the dip and—

"Stop!"

The music cuts out and you turn your head to glare at Derek. "What is it now?"

"Funny," he says, leaning back against the table with his arms crossed in front of his chest, "I was going to ask you the same thing."

You roll your eyes.

Under any other circumstances, you’d have probably found yourself quite enamoured with your assistant director. After all, Derek Wills is brilliant, dedicated, handsome; he has a keen eye for detail and he’s unafraid of anyone’s judgment of him. If you’d met him in a bar or a friend introduced to you, you’d probably let yourself fall head-first into an ill-advised dalliance.

Unfortunately, the first time you’d met was on the first day of rehearsals for your first ever principal role, and all of his intriguing traits make him an absolute nightmare to work with. Most days, with your director present, he holds himself back at least somewhat, even though it clearly pains him when things don’t go his way. This time, though, he’s outdone himself.

The show opens in less than two weeks, and with tech looming just around the corner, he’s decided to completely uphaul the entr’acte number. Now, there’s a whole new choreography you’re expected to learn on top of everything else.

The whole company is irritated over it, of course, but most of them have more of a dancing background than you do. Add to that nine and a half brutal hours of rehearsals and you want to rip Derek’s head off.

"I’m doing your damn quick dance," you say through gritted teeth. Jamie pulls you upright again, giving your hand an empathetic squeeze.

"However much I wish that were true, here we are."

"What on earth is your problem with me?"

"My problem isn’t with you, it’s with your performance today."

"Alright," the stage manager interrupts, tiredly massaging her temples. "It’s been a very long day. How about we break this up and come back tomorrow at 10:00?"

There’s a relieved mumble of assent as everyone around you starts collecting their bags and trickling out of the room. In the end, Derek is the first one to look away. You shake yourself out of your angry stupor.

"Ignore him," Lucy whispers as you take a long swig from your water bottle. "You did really well today."

"Not as well as you."

Even over the noise of everybody leaving, Derek’s shout of your full name is sharp enough to make her flinch.

"Breakfast tomorrow?"

"If I make it out alive."

She squeezes your shoulder and then hurries out the door. It falls shut with a foreboding thud.

You can feel the glare in your neck, but it doesn’t deter you. Unhurriedly, you pack up your things, rolling your aching shoulders. Once you get home, you’re going to take a nice, hot bath to soothe your burning muscles; it’s the first thought in a couple of hours that makes you smile to yourself, however briefly.

When you finally do turn around, you’re met with pure British disdain.

"Can I help you?"

"You do realise I’m doing this so the press won’t eat you alive, right?"

"How kind of you."

"It is, actually. You know, I have two other shows that I should be working on instead of doing this."

"Well, no one asked you to, Derek. You’re not the director. Steven thinks I’m a fine dancer, or else he wouldn’t have cast me."

"Steven doesn’t give a rat’s ass about this performance. Which is why he’s added all of these last-minute changes we’ve been trying to get through and I’m the one having to drill it all into your heads. A job which, frankly, would be a lot easier if I didn’t also have to try to stop this show’s only real musical talent’s attempts to bulldoze her career before it’s even taken off."

It’s about as much of a compliment as he’s ever given you, and that very fact takes the steam out of you somewhat. You watch as he turns away from you again and flicks on the metronome on the table.

"You’re insufferable," you say, but it doesn’t have the same conviction in it.

"Maybe. But I’m right, and you know it." He pulls up a chair and sits down on it backwards, crossing his arms on the backrest. "Go again from the pivot."

"What, on my own?"

He raises his eyebrows in clear amusement. "Please."

There’s a challenge in his eyes, and despite your aching bones, the last thing you want is to back down from it.

You hold his gaze for a couple of moments longer, the only sound in the room the ticking coming from the metronome. Then, with an annoyed groan, you drop your bag.

"When—"

"No," he interrupts immediately and you roll your eyes. "Just the dance."

You press your lips together, but don’t argue. Pivot left, double step, head stays up, don’t flap your arms. It feels strange not to sing over the routine; it’s gotten so ingrained in your head over the past couple of days. Breathe now, five-six-sidestep-eight—

Derek sighs. "You’re doing it again."

You finish your turn with a glare. "Doing what, exactly?"

"The little stick arms. Your entire back is stiff and it looks like you’re going through a checklist whenever you reach that part."

"So you want me to, what, smile more?"

"Would your character smile more?"

His question catches you off guard, as does the fact that he seems to be expecting an answer.

"In the script, she’s—”

"I know what it says in the script. What do you think?"

"It’s not just the choreography. I don’t think this number makes sense. I get why the show needs an uptempo number to start act two, but I just … it doesn’t really connect."

It gives you emotional whiplash, going from this scene to the next, but that addition seems a bit too unprofessional.

Derek squints at you, seemingly lost in thought. You wrap your arms around yourself self-consciously.

After some time, he adjusts the metronome to a slower tempo. "Go again."

It’s funny; even though nothing else has changed about your choreography, it feels much clearer, more deliberate, almost—

The chair scrapes over the linoleum floor as Derek stands, crossing towards you in a few long strides. You hesitate, one arm still outstretched to where you would normally catch Jamie’s hand for the twist.

"Ignore me," he mumbles, his look of concentration never wavering. "Again."

Ignore him? Like you've ever been able to do that. You can feel his gaze prickle in your neck, cataloguing every move, every tilt of your head. Your fixed smile wavers.

Chin up. Sidestep. Eight. Turn.

Your dip is coming up. Why isn’t he interrupting you?

When you turn left, a warm hand catches yours while another curls around your arched back in one smooth motion. You freeze, your mouth half-opened in surprise, and your fingers inadvertently tighten around his.

A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins as the world turns upside down.

Slowly, gently, Derek pulls you up into the rest of your spin. You watch yourself in the mirrors covering the opposite wall, coming to a standstill way too close to him, his chest almost brushing your back. He smells nice, you think nonsensically.

"You need to relax," he says lowly, his breath fanning your ear, and, oh. That’s what this is.

Tension hums in the air between you, and you’re not even facing each other.

You let go of his hand, but you don’t step away. "Funny."

"I can help you with that."

It’s an offer, maybe even a question. For a moment, it hovers, just like the two of you do, not quite touching, not quite crossing the line. Yet. The metronome on the table keeps clicking.

Heat trickles down your spine.

This is a terrible idea, one you’re certain to regret tomorrow, hell, a few hours from now. It’s unprofessional, unethical and plain wrong, and …

Almost imperceptibly, you nod.

You don’t see his eyes in the mirror, but something about him softens as he moves even closer. His hands graze your sides as they settle around you, sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly, gently, they wander towards your waistband.

"Say the word and we never have to speak of this again."

You exhale shakingly.

His growing bulge presses into you from behind as his fingers slip lower, teasing you through the thin material of your panties. You gasp when they find your clit, your hips chasing his touch.

For all his usual antics, he’s surprisingly careful with you; almost tender, even in the way he pushes the fabric to the side and starts spreading your slick. It seems so at odds with the scene that unfolds in the mirror, your head falling against him as you hold onto his arm, his neck, trying to anchor yourself with a low whine.

"Shhh," Derek whispers, dragging his lips down your neck. "You need to be nice and quiet for me. Can you do that?"

People might still be working, your mind supplies hazily as a soft wave of pleasure starts to build. For some reason, the thought doesn’t deter you in the slightest.

You buck into his hand again, making him stifle a groan of his own against your shoulder. Before you can feel too happy about that, though, one of his fingers pushes inside you and you have to bite your lip in order not to make a sound. Your grip on him tightens, your stance widening.

"Look at you," he mumbles, sounding almost mesmerised as he keeps thrusting into you, his thumb lightly flicking over your clit. You clench around him, desperate for more friction. For once, he obliges. "You’re doing so well."

Another finger sinks into you right as he adds the perfect amount of pressure to your clit, his other hand rubbing soothingly against your stomach as you're pushed closer to the brink.

"That’s it," you hear him murmur, as if to himself. "So good for me."

You gasp, your eyes rolling back in your head. "Derek!"

"I’ve got you," he says, his hold steady and warm. "Eyes open, darling."

You whimper softly, trying to find him in the mirror. He smiles against your shoulder, nipping at your skin.

"I want you to let go for me now," he tells you, his voice a gentle rumble against you. "Can you do that?"

You nod, or you think you do. It’s hard to tell, really, when all you can focus on is the mounting pleasure building higher and higher, until—

"Just like that. Good girl."

With a shudder, you come undone.

You’re boneless in his arms, your knees wobbling in your high-heeled dance shoes as you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. His hardness is pressing against you, but before you can even attempt to turn in his arms and help him take care of that, he slips his hand out of your pants and takes a step backwards.

"Now go again."

You blink, your chest still heaving. "What?"

"Go again," Derek repeats. "Try to feel it this time instead of just moving."

A breathless laugh falls fro your lips. "Are you fucking serious right now?"

"I think we both know that I am." He sits down on his chair again, his erection painfully obvious. "Try it. Stop being afraid to feel."

"I’m not," you say automatically. The metronome keeps clicking.

He raises his eyebrows. "Show me."

So you do.

There’s no way in hell any of your steps are anywhere close to precise. You’re off rhythm and shaky, and you almost stumble when you catch Derek put his fingers in his mouth as he watches you, his face that unreadable mask of concentration again.

Somehow, though, the number feels different this time. Like you’ve released some inner tension that had kept you from falling into the routine.

This is absolutely fantastic, you think to yourself as you move. On top of everything else, he had to be right.

When you twist to a halt just before you’d normally dip, Derek smirks. "Now we’re talking."

"You happy now?" you ask, breathing hard.

"Exceedingly, darling." He flicks the metronome off, reaching for his script next to it and starts flicking through. "You’re right about the tempo," he continues, scribbling something down. "We’ll slow the second half of the number to transition into the next scene."

"You think Steven’s gonna let you get away with that?"

"Leave that to me," he says, looking at his watch. "Shit, I need to go. You, go home, try to be on time tomorrow."

You gape at the dismissal, watching him gather his things without so much as another glance at you. "Derek!" you say incredulously.

"Right." He turns, a hectic look in his eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "You’re gonna be a star, darling. Just you wait."

Before you can reply, he’s out of the room, still half-hard in his pants.

The lights flick off.

thank you for reading 🫶🏼 leave a comment to send me virtual tissues because honestly i'm running out. if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

edit: i'm currently high on ibuprofen and completely forgot to give the appropriate shout outs 😭 big thank you to @thereoncewasagirlnamedjane and @scrumptious-delusion who read this fic first, i would do anything for u 🫶🏼

[hopefulromances]

hiya! as soon as i saw the "allowing themselves to make mistakes" prompt i knew it would be perfect for jaimie!! maybe something with reader constantly reminding jamie that being soft is actually not a bad thing, that he can be vulnerable and that he doesn't have to blame himself for everything that goes wrong. feel free to take this in a different direction if you want to xx

TW: Blood, cuts, injury, nothing too extreme

The sound of glass breaking followed by very angry, mancurian cursing brought your attention from your book. You slotted your book mark onto the page and got up out of your seat to go into the kitchen. Jamie was furiously muttering to himself as he started picking up glass off the floor.

"Jamie, be careful, glass is-"

Just as you were speaking, a partiularlly large piece of glass, sliced open his hand.

"Fucking bollucks!" He grimaced, dropping the other pieces to hold his hand. He grunted angrily, standing up and going to the facuet.

"Jamie, let me help you." You delicately, stepped through the broken glass to make your way over to Jamie.

"I can do it, it's fine," he shot back, more aggressive than you were expecting.

"Please, Jamie I just-"

"Fuck off, would you I can do this!"

You stood back, holding up your hands in surrender. There was something going on, you knew it. Jamie never swore at you, he rarely raised his his voice. You spoke softly.

"I know you can. I know you can do it, Jamie. But I want to help you."

He stared at his hand under the faucet, the water turning red as his hand bled. You clicked your tonge and walked to the medicine cabinet. You grabbed anti-biotic fluid and a wrap before heading back to Jamie. He was still standing in over the sink, letting the warm water wash off his hand.

You carefully turned off the sink and took his hand in yours. he still hadn't spoke but he didn't pull his hand away so you figured he was going to let you help. You dried off his hand, careful not to pull the skin too much.

"Okay, hun, I'm gonna put some of this on there, and it's gonna sting, you ready?" He nodded. You dabbed some of the antibiotics onto his cut and you heard him hiss as the fluid stung his skin. "I know, I'm so sorry, baby." You finished wrapping his hand and pulled it up to kiss his palm. "There, all better!"

"M' sorry," he muttered as you kissed him. "For being mean."

You nudged him, smiling. "I accept your apology. Now will you tell me what's going on?" He shrugged, staring at his injury. "Jamie, you know you can talk to me. It's okay."

"I jus'... I jus' wanted to do somethin' nice for you," he admitted, gesturing to the glass on the floor, which you realized now was a mug. "But I can't even do that right." You nodded at him. He looked away from you. "My dad texted me."

There it was. The truth behind his behavior. His father, what a dick.

"What did he want?" You asked gently, keeping his injured hand cradled in yours, rubbing your thumbs over it comfortingly.

"Tickets to the wembly game coming up," He explained. "I got them sorted today, but I'm... not looking forward to seeing him."

You skewed you mouth to the side, distaste flooding your mouth. The man city game was already giving Jamie enough stress and now his father had to make it worse.

"Well, I'm sorry," you told him, leaning against his arm. "But you know, the mug is just a mug. Lord knows I've dropped too many mugs to count." You giggled a little. "I mean, it's insane really. It's like my fingers are made of butter." You glanced up and saw the semblance of a smile on Jamie's face. "And it's okay to be worried about your Dad."

The smile vanished which you hated, but the conversation needed to be had. He had a tendancy to keep these things bottled up until something worse happened. He didn't want to seem 'soft' or 'needy' but that's all you wanted.

"Yeah, I know," he grumbled, still not looking at you.

You reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at you. "Jamie, it's okay to be worried about your dad."

His eyebrows furrowed. He was overwhelmed by how much he loved you. How well you knew him. How much you loved him. He nodded this time, really meaning it. You pulled him down to kiss him, letting him know it was okay. You gave him a pat on the cheek.

"Alright, now clean this up, and use the broom for godssake!"

[moonstruckme]

hi, my love! i hope you’re doing okay!

i’d be really interested to see the protectiveness of the marauders and how it plays out in a poly!marauders dynamic. say something happens to r (can be as minor or as severe as you prefer). how would each marauder react and how would their dynamics bounce off each other? would it make the situation better or worse?

I find it funny picturing r attempting to wrangle all three of her boys from throwing hands (especially if it was a mistake or a miscommunication between r and the “offender”) and they’re bouncing off each other and riling themselves up more and she’s just like, ffs I’m so sorry and tries her best to manhandle her three boyfriends away for a stern talking to. Like, thank you guys for protecting me and all that but a) t’was a mistake / miscommunication, and b) i can sort my own shit and will ask if i need back up (Sirius in the back like no need to ask, i’m ready to go bby). Everyone’s like wtf Remus?! because he’s usually the chill one and it’s just a cluserfuck of misplaced angst and fluffy humour.

this might overlap with some other requests you’ve written, so feel free to ignore or tweak as you see fit! no idea if this makes any sense but hope it’s fun to write if you decide to!

Hi lovely! I've done a couple fics with protective marauders before, so I wanted to try something a little different based on your prompt. I had a different vision in my head than how it turned out, but I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, sexual assault, violence

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You’ve been known to be a…somewhat short-fused drunk. It’s not that you’ll get angry with anyone for anything, only that the sort of behavior that you might normally try to ignore, you…don’t. This is usually the behavior of men. 

It’s one of those nights where the club is made up of about forty percent young girls and sixty percent older, eagle-eyed men. You’re glad for your boyfriends, who ward off the other men like a force field around you. You feel lucky to have it and disgusted to need it. 

James’ laughter is loud and bright as you spin him around after he does you. You echo it, pleased at having inspired such a sound. With his large, sturdy build, it’s rare for James to get very drunk, but he’s about where you are now. Which is to say, you’ve been sloppily dancing and giggling with each other for the last hour. 

Remus rolls his eyes fondly when James nearly spins himself out of balance, steadying him with a hand on his back. 

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Sirius shouts. 

James laughs again, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Classy, babe.” 

“Bugger off.” Sirius shoves him playfully into Remus’ chest. 

You dance with them both for a minute longer before leaning in to shout, “Okay if I go get more drinks?” 

Remus eyes you both for a second, but nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.” 

“No, stay.” You set a hand on his chest. “Don’t let Jamie dance alone. I’ll be right back, yeah?” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you head for the bar. It’s crowded, but you’re not about to worm between some middle-aged men to get to the front. You stand up on your toes and wait to catch the bartender’s eye. 

“What’s your name?” Suddenly there’s a warm body pressed up behind yours, hands on your hips. 

Your blood, already warmed by alcohol, turns hot in an instant. You step forward, too quick for the man behind you to follow. Turn to look him in the eyes. 

“Don’t touch me,” you say firmly. 

“Okay.” The man raises his eyebrows at you. He looks nearly old enough to be your father—certainly old enough to be someone’s father—with waxy skin and thinning hair combed over the front of his head. He’s in a suit like he came here from work. “Sorry, relax. I just think you’re beautiful.” 

“I’m here with someone.” Someones, you could say, but you’ve learned it’s easier in some situations to make it sound like you only have one partner, for brevity’s sake. And there’s nothing you desire more than for this interaction to be brief. 

He gives a little laugh. “Don’t take things so seriously, I’m only complimenting you. Do you like to dance?” 

You give him a hard look. “Only with my boyfriend.” 

“You look like you dance.” His eyes skim down your frame, raptorial. “I can tell. You have the body for it.” 

No sooner does his large, meaty hand connect with your ass than you’re grabbing it by the wrist, your free hand balling and aiming for his face. 

His surprised grunt comes in sync with a “Woah!” from behind you. 

You turn to find Remus and James, looking like they’ve just broken through the crowd. James is staring at you with wide eyes. One of the men near you at the bar sets a hand on your shoulder, pulling you away from the creep and forcing you to drop his wrist, but Remus is there in an instant. 

“Oi.” He grabs you, removing the man’s hand and caging you in his arms. “She’s fine.” 

“She hit him!” the man accuses. The guy from before is leaning forward with a hand pressed over his face. 

James is incredulous. “Did you see what he did to her?” 

The other man looks between you like he’s realized he’s missing something, and Remus takes a couple of steps back from the crowd with you in his arms. Meanwhile, your attacker seems to be recovering from his shock. He lowers his hand to reveal a discolored mark on his jaw, gaping at you. 

“You fucking cunt!” 

James gives him a hard shove, and more shouting starts up around the bar, various other patrons either cheering the fight on or trying to break it up. Remus grabs James by his shirt, tugging him along as he herds you towards the exit. “Alright, we’re going, we’re going.” 

Your journey out of the building is hurried and difficult to follow in your addled state, but everything seems to catch up to you when the dark club gives way to glaring fluorescent streetlights. You bend over under a wave of nausea. 

“Hey.” James sounds more sober than he had a few minutes ago. He stoops to look at you, your eyes wet. “You okay?” 

Remus says something to him quietly, passing James the car keys. He unwinds his arm from around you and kisses your head. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says gently. “Go wait in the car, okay?” 

“Okay…” Your voice is hardly a whimper. “Where are you going?” 

But Remus is already gone, waving down the bouncer outside of the club. 

You turn to James. “Where is he going?” 

Tears blink out of your eyes as you ask. The corners of James’ mouth turn down sympathetically. 

“Oh, my girl.” He wraps a big arm around your shoulders, kissing your head as he leads you towards the car. “What’s wrong? Does your hand hurt?” 

You shake your head, though it does a little. Your knuckles and the tops of your fingers feel odd and sore, and there’s a throbbing that goes all the way down to your wrist. That’s not what’s bothering you, though. You’re not sure if you can pick what’s bothering you. The predatory stares you’ve endured all night; the sickening realization of the man’s body pressed up against yours; his easy, blithe laughter; your own white-hot anger, there and gone before you could take account of yourself—it’s all too much. 

“I can’t believe I hit him,” you admit tearfully. 

James lets out a little laugh. “I saw, baby.” He unlocks the car, opening the back door. 

“I didn’t mean to.” 

“I—oh, okay.” James doesn’t stop you when you don’t get in, instead sitting on the floor of the car with your feet on the gravel parking lot. He sits beside you. “It’s okay if you did. He deserved it.” 

You put your head in your hands. “I don’t hit people.” 

He makes a soft sound. A big hand lands between your shoulder blades, rubbing softly. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. It’s…I get that you wouldn’t usually, but I think this counts as a special circumstance. Rem, he saw what was happening, but we couldn’t get to you fast enough. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, you know?” 

You don’t reply, and he lets you sit in silence for a while, your weeping gradually stopping. When Remus comes back, it’s with Sirius in tow. 

“What the fuck happened?” Sirius asks tipsily. “I was looking for you!” 

“Did Remus not tell you?” James sounds excited to be the one to share the news. 

“Alright, dove?” Remus asks at a more reasonable volume, crouching in front of you. “Does your hand hurt? Can I see?” 

“No, he’s being bloody tight-lipped.” Sirius ruffles Remus’ hair. “Just said you had to go. Oi, you alright, lovely?” 

“She punched a guy in the face,” James says proudly. 

“She what?” Sirius’ mouth pops open. You shrink some under his gaze. “Baby, you what?” 

“I didn’t mean to!” you insist, though it’s hard to stay miserable when two of your boyfriends look so obviously delighted. 

Sirius shakes his head, awestruck. “What did I miss?” 

James fills him in quickly while Remus prods at your hand, eventually commending you on a rather clean hit after he’s certain you didn’t break anything. Sirius can hardly keep his mouth shut while James talks, nor can James keep from using a series of vulgar names for the man who’d touched you, though he checks on you a couple of times to be sure his storytelling isn’t upsetting you. When he’s done, Sirius’ stare has darkened, his arms crossing as he leans against the side of the car. 

“Do we think he could perhaps use a matching bruise on the other side?” he muses, gaze flicking to the entrance of the club. “Maybe one of you could point him out to me.” 

“You’ll get to see him soon,” says Remus. You look at him questioningly, but he only gives you a small smile. Cryptic.

“Really, she’s already handled it rather well herself.” James slides his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your head. “You should have seen it, I had no idea she could punch like that.” 

“Me neither,” you sigh. 

Just then, the door to the club bangs open. Two bouncers come out in their uniform black tees, hauling between them another man. 

“Alright, alright, leave off!” The creep from earlier struggles in their grasp. All three of your boyfriends tense. As he comes through the doorway, his discolored jaw catches the light. 

Sirius whistles. “Shit. That is bloody gorgeous.” 

You feel the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips, but try to remain contrite. You catch Remus’ eye. 

“It was pretty impressive,” he says, also smiling. 

You chew your lip. “You don’t think it was wrong?” 

“What’s wrong about it?” Sirius asks. “He touched you, you touched him. I’d have done the same if I were there.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “We know, love.” 

“I’m just saying, I could make it symmetrical…” 

“No,” Remus says sternly. He helps you up, ushering you into the backseat. “It’s time to go home.” 

James buckles in beside you while Remus gets into the driver’s seat. Sirius lingers outside the car. 

“He’s not gotten far yet, are we sure…” 

“Aw, baby, does your hand hurt?” James asks loudly. 

Sirius turns, crawling in to get a look. “Shit, did you bruise something? How’d you make a fist?” 

James reaches across him to shut the door, and Remus drives away.

[antitheticallyargumentative]

I’m going to attempt to explain why the ending of Ted Lasso re: Jamie and his dad, bothers me so much. I know a lot of other people have made posts about this, and excellent ones, too, but I also have a lot of thoughts. These are just my opinions. Feel free to disagree. Feel free to discuss with me why you disagree. I love respectful conversations.

 This is gonna be long. sorry guys.

tw/cw- James Tartt Sr., abuse, The Amsterdam Thing

not detailed, but they are mentioned. proceed with caution and take care of yourself, please. <3

It is not the decision to have Jamie reach out to his dad that I hate. It is not even the decision to put Jamie’s dad in rehab (though I do think it was… A Choice.) To me, it’s very unsurprising that Jamie would try to reach out to his dad. Not just because of who he is as a character, but because of what this kind of lifelong abuse does to a person’s psyche. A lot of kids who come from abusive or neglectful homes have an incredibly hard time cutting off their parents. Even if they’re scared of them, even if they’re angry with them, there is still a deeply ingrained need to be loved, that maybe this time it will be different. They’ll mean it when they say they’ve changed. They’ll love me. Going no contact is fucking hard. It’s also fucking dangerous. As much as Jamie says he’s done everything he has to spite his dad, there is a part of him that deeply, desperately craves James’s approval. Of course he would visit him in rehab, because, if he’s in rehab, he’s trying, right? And maybe this time it will be different. 

But it won’t be. Because James Tartt has a pattern. A pattern of playing super dad, presumably where he cleans up his act and “makes an effort” with Jamie. Does father-son things with him, talks to him outside of asking for game tickets or telling him he played like shit (I’m hypothesizing here), lulls him into a false sense of security. And then what happens? Well, things like Amsterdam happen. And I highly doubt that was the only time he pulled that act. He likely also pulled it when he first came back into Jamie’s life, and probably other times after Amsterdam, too. What he doesn’t do, ever, though, is apologize, or take accountability for his past actions. Because James is a narcissist. At least, that’s what I would say. He feeds off Jamie’s fame and success to make himself feel bigger, important, entitled. And narcissists lack empathy. They struggle to take responsibility for their actions. They’re also, commonly, very manipulative. 

James is not an abusive piece of shit because he’s an alcoholic. He is both an abusive piece of shit AND an alcoholic. Not only does acting like he was horrid because he was drunk perpetuate the stigma of substance use disorders, it also completely takes away accountability.  James going to rehab does not change what he did. It does not fix what he’s done. It does not mean that he is magically going to win father of the year because he got sober. More likely, he’s going to continue to the cycle. I truly do not see a way in which we get to the happy ending of the show. Which brings me to my final point. 

This is not a happy ending. Jamie going to see his dad does not fix things. Jamie forgiving his dad does not take away from his trauma. Jamie should not have to forgive his dad, not for James, not for himself, not for anyone. The thing that bothers me most is that the show plays this scene like it’s closure. Like everything is OK now, and they have a good relationship, there’s no fallout, no consequences, nothing left the heal. And I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit. 

The things our parents do and say to us cut deep, at least in my experience. It doesn’t matter if they apologize, it doesn’t matter if they learn and grow, it doesn’t matter if we forgive them. That hurt stays. It sticks. You remember it. You feel it. There is no way in hell that seeing his dad wouldn’t be incredibly difficult for Jamie— just judging from what we’ve seen in the show. There’s no way it wouldn’t bring up all the trauma James has put him through, even repressed. It would not be easy. It would not be happy. And I don’t think it would be healthy. 

Whatever Jamie eventually decides to do regarding his relationship with his dad, whether its cutting him off or choosing to forgive him, which personally, I don’t think he should (but I also know that cutting off a parent is no easy feat), it would take time, it would take effort, it would be a struggle. It would take actually working through the years of abuse and trauma caused by his dad. And we don’t get any of that. We get “forgive <3” and problem solved! And honestly, I think that’s a dangerous message to be passing out. 

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. (Hehe, get it?) 

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 37: O Death

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, dread, violence, kidnapping

* Word count: 1,881ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! Please don’t come for me with pitchforks and torches! 😅

Feel free to scream at me in my ask box. I have a feeling we’re all going to need to.

Stella had gone out to the barn to grab Abigail to go for a night ride. The bay roan was antsy. The mare could tell Stella was anxious. Stella hadn’t really had much of a chance to take her out properly as of late, so that didn’t help.

Kayce said he loved her. That still floored her. She wasn’t sure if she was overreacting or not. Her mind tried to downplay what had happened. The last time she got ahead of herself, she ended up getting humbled really quick. She definitely didn’t want to do that this time.

Stella had a hard time comprehending why Kayce would be interested in her at all. If that’s what was truly happening here. She would have to suck it up sooner or later and find out. Then again, Kayce had bigger things going on. He was getting everything settled and finalized with his soon to be ex-wife. He had a living situation, and the time with his son to figure out. There’s no way he would have even been thinking about her during all of that.

Stella quietly led Abigail to the outside. On their way out of the barn, she spotted a solitary crow sitting on a fence nearby. Her face scrunched. A single crow? At night time? ‘What was that rhyme about crows? One for sorrow? Two for mirth? Somethin’ somethin’ blah blah.’ She felt her chest tighten at the thought of what that could mean. She’d seen one too many single crows lately. ‘You gotta stop freakin’ yourself out, girl.’ Stella heard noise ahead of her and saw Tate over at the round pen. He was alone, with what looked to be an armful of hay. She led Abigail over to the youngin’ and his horse.

“Tate, what’re you doin’ out here all by yourself?” She thought it was strange that he was allowed to come out by himself at night. Yes, the ranch was safe for all intents and purposes, but there was no way to effectively say it was safe at all times. It was late and most of the guys in the bunkhouse were out taking care of Jimmy’s problem. Stella ran a count in her head of who was still home. Jamie, Colby, Ethan, and Jake were the only ones in there. They were probably already looking at the backs of their eyelids.

The little boy latched the gate behind him, and faced her. “Grandpa said I had to feed my horse before I got dessert because it’s not fair that I’m treating myself and he’s down here hungry.”

Stella smiled. “Well he’s right, buddy. We can’t just forget about our pets,” she gently patted Abigail’s shoulder. “Do you want a ride back to the house? I’ll let you ride while I walk her.”

Tate’s eyes lit up. “Yeah!”

“Alright, bud. Come stand over here.” Stella knelt down and cupped her hands so Tate could step into them in order to give him a hike into the saddle. When he was seated safely, she handed him one of Abigail’s reins and held the other to walk her along. “So back to what your grandpa was saying.”

Tate sighed. He hadn’t been expecting a lecture from Stella.

“They depend on us. If we don’t come to help them out, they can’t just go get the hay or the feed for themselves.” Stella looked up at the boy. “They don’t have thumbs.” She wiggled her thumbs at him, successfully making him giggle.

“Yeah, you’re right, Aunt Stell. I gotta start thinking about him too.”

Stella nodded, “now you’re thinkin’ like a cowboy.” The fast crunch and skid of tires on the gravel of the hill could be heard not far behind them.

“Who’s that?” Tate questioned.

Stella’s face pulled into a frown and stopped Abigail’s motion and quickly walked around front of her. She wasn’t familiar with the van. Her stomach dropped thinking back to a few weeks ago with those men that were following her. How she said to Kayce a few nights back, “how can you be sure? There’s so many places people can sneak onto the property and we all would be none the wiser.” A couple men spilled out of the van and started to close the gap between them rapidly.

“Tate, get down now!” She clambered to catch the boy so he didn’t hit the ground too hard. She grabbed his shoulders to hold his attention. Quickly, she explained to him, “no matter what happens next, no matter what you hear, I need you to run. And if you can’t make it to the house, I need you to hide in the best hide and seek spot you can think of that’s out of sight and don’t come out until you hear someone you know! Do you understand me?”

He shook his head quickly.

“Take Abigail, use her as cover to run until you aren’t seen anymore. She’ll find someone when she runs off. Go!”

“But Aunt Stel —,” Tate started to object, but Stella cut him off.

“— I said go!! Run!” Stella yelled at him. She hated to scare him, but something was awfully wrong about the situation.

She knew Abigail would make her way back to the barn or in front of the bunkhouse. Stella needed her to be a distraction to keep Tate safe. She stalked off to the round pen. Cursing herself that she only had her hunting knife on her.

“Can I help y’all?” Stella called out to them, shocked at herself for sounding almost like Rip.

“Yeah we’re looking to get a message to John Dutton.” The lead man expressed.

“You are, huh?” She slid the knife out of its belt holster, that belonged to her and Ryan’s dad, in a fluid motion. To the men she approached it looked like she fixed her jacket. “Y’all tell me and you can leave. I’ll relay the message.” She tried to keep her eyes on the men and make sure she could see where Abigail was headed in her peripheral vision. If she couldn’t see Abigail anymore that meant Tate was one step closer to safety.

“Nah we can’t do that. We were sent with a specific purpose. You weren’t it.” The lead man confessed. Stella’s heart sank at the implication about Kayce’s son. “Now where’s the boy, Stella?”

Her hands started to go clammy. Her breathing was shallow. “How do you know my name?”

“We know a lot of things about you. About everyone here.”

The second man started to search around. Stella couldn’t see Abigail any longer. She closed her eyes for a split second and breathed hard. She prayed with every last bit of her soul that Tate was on his way to his grandpa.

“That’s nice, but you need to leave. You’re not getting anything.”

“We came for the boy, and we will not let anyone, let alone some girl, stop us.” The lead man yelled to his partner, “Cut out farther until you find him. I’ll take care of her.”

Stella turned abruptly, starting to make a mad dash for the bunkhouse. Her burning legs wanted to give out, but she pushed them to go faster. She could hear the lead man behind her as he gained length on her. He was almost on top of her and she panicked. She grabbed a piece of rebar sticking out of the sand by the round pen and swung it at the face of the lead man, hard. Stella swung as if she was trying for a home run.

The man’s jaw snapped shut and reopened as he let out a deafening scream. He grabbed the bar tight and yanked her toward him. “You filthy bitch!” The man’s words came out garbled. He gripped up Stella’s hair and pulled as hard as he could.

Stella stabbed at the man with her knife, but in her panic she didn’t have a good hold. She punctured his leg and he howled in pain. It didn’t have the desired effect Stella had wanted. She jabbed wildly and got him in his side twice before the lead man was able to slip it out of her hands.

Tate must have seen her struggle because he screamed her name loud and clear from not far off, “Aunt Stella!!”

“Fuck!” She wrestled with the man to get her balance back and his hand out of her hair. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tate as he ran over to her. “Tate, I said run to the house!” Stella screamed at him.

Tate continued to dart toward her, he wanted to get the men away from Stella. He was snatched up by the second man she’d lost sight of.

“Stella!!” His tiny voice hollered. Tate struggled against the second man’s grasp.

Stella broke loose from the lead man and started to scramble for the second, but was grabbed from behind. “Fuck you piece of shit! Let us go!”

A fist hammered down onto her head from the man that had her, knocking her glasses off her face. She groaned as her vision blurred. She tried to get her foot behind or under the man’s leg, to sweep his foot out but he stayed on top of it. His arms were wrapped around the top of hers as she struggled to gain some high ground. She didn’t want to do this, but she didn’t have any other option but to ram her head backwards into his nose as hard as she could. She hoped she would break it.

Stella and the lead man both cried out, and he loosened his grip. Her head started to thump wildly. Quickly slipping her right arm out of the weak hold he had on it, Stella wrapped it around the lead man’s neck and tried to flip him like she would a calf. They both hit the ground and groaned. Stella was winded and half woozy, but scrambled her way to standing.

She ran forward trying to make it closer to the bunkhouse. A silent prayer was said. Stella let out a scream she hoped would be heard by the entire ranch. “Colby! Anyone help!!” She would have gotten away if the other man hadn’t been enraged and made his way back for her after getting Tate in the van.

“Fuck!” She squeaked out. He gripped her up by the neck making her lose air and landed a solid fist to her face that dazed her. Her posture drooped and the man behind her let her fall to the ground.

She tried to claw her way back to standing to run toward the van. Both men kicked her sides, her head, her arms; anything they could get at to make sure she stayed down. The bunkhouse was too far away to have heard their screams clearly. She couldn’t breathe from the wind being knocked out of her and her vision was starting to go. No one was coming this time. With one final attempt to crawl back to her feet to get to the van, the lead man landed a knockout blow to her chin with his foot and Stella stopped moving all together. That solitary crow cawed and fluttering wings was the last thing Stella heard.

[siremasterlawrence]

The Voice

Part 1 - 2

On a video call with some agents that if I am lucky perhaps by chance they might be the perfect match for me as being my agency for both voice acting and acting to be my representation.

I set everything up for the video call as I am sitting prepped up when the call comes through loudly on and I hit yes to answerthe call and I knew it this was a once in a lifetime.

The video rolls on showing me to both of the guys they smile brightly at me, giving me a wave as we begin our conversation hitting the light flicking it off and they are left in a state of confusion.

Before they can say anything the lights go on and off blinking in multitude of different colors pulling them in to a calm state of my affairs and they starting to asking me a question.

I began to go on a long journey of who I am adding coded messages leading both guys to meet me who’s and we stare deeply in to each other I can see the wave of calmness over take them both.

I point my figures towards them both of their eyes roll back to the side, they fall backward in to the sockets and the eyelids close down on big and his head falls back on to the couch.

I get excited throwing a fist pump into the air showcasing my enthusiasm to enslave both men in a fit of lust and then I begin to tame myself sitting upward and rethinking every move.

A loud crackle rolls on with the snap of my fingers as they pull upward sitting straight in the chairs and stare blankly at the screen ready for my commands so I smirk taking a deep breath.

I take a second breath checking them out from head to toe seeing the handsome, tall glasses of water and I imagine using them for many things beside enslavement of the world.

“Hello Jamie and Ashley! You can hear my clear and audible.”

“As the sound of my voice upon your wake up call.”

“We shall surrender in to total enslavement for life.”

“Yes correct! I am your Master and you are fully accepting.”

“Will you serve me willingly?”

“Most of you are corrupt and I am saving you.”

“Your clients are number one”

“I am your most important client “

“You are my number one fan”

“All you want is it please me”

“Everything you know is a lie “

“Your existence is for me, by me and in solely in service for me.”

“Mwahahahahaha! Wake up call”

“Oh what the…”

“What was I doing ?”

“Audition”

“Oh no! Right Ashley “

“We want to represent you “

Part 3 - 4

“Mr. Hardy and Eloise get the fuck in here.”could be heard in the speaker pouring in to the rooms of both agents who sighed in total audience because they were going to head to lunch.

Tom stood up knowing he is the number one agent in this damn business but hey he is still being called like a god damn assistant from the past but he puts his big boy pants on entering the elevator.

The man smirks as he says take him to the penthouse but something is off as the door shuts close and all of sudden the room is swooped up in darkness with a strange resounding sound.

The elevator sped upward in to the sky as it shoots fast reaching the pent house as the door slides open and he exist on to the main floor confused at what happen it was as if time froze.

Everything is right he thinks for second even though he is not sure why it felt like his time stopped for entire day and as he walks even further unaware of the day having turned to night.

It is dark bluish night sky peering in to the room all else begins to fade as he sees the young man sitting in his chair and his boss who is sitting on top to his desk and looks like he is swooning a bit.

“You wanted my presence at the moment boss?”

“Yes indeed! Meet your new client “

“Glad you could make it! It’s obvious you have had a wake up call.”

“I am the best damn agent in this office! How dare you call me on the speaker with that attitude?”

“Oh you’re still going on about that! You shall move on from that and focus on me.”

“I am your focal point Ellis.”

“Why fight? When you feel so free”

“I am all you see, know and want”

“YYYEEESSS “

“You have my attention “

“Then kneel and wake up call”

“Yes Master! I am your humble manger “

“Kiss my hand and embrace me”

“Sense my power”

“Comprehend my place in your life “

“I love you….Master”

“Master Lawrence! You are my world “

“Command me”

“Rise to your feet “

“My team! The four of you will be my core team.”

“Your life is about me and making me a star is your business.”

The end

The Voice Part 2

Part 5 - 6

Thomas and Taron are the studio head sons at Warner Brothers man Executive who are in for a treat and have gone through far too many headshots for the first feature to star in.

They found their first two stars at the main coupe attraction when they called my agent and I agreed to meet them as all for my slave guys sat at the sides as they put on a performance.

The man slide finishes as they tell me the goal of a story, to tell the truth about a very young adult meeting a older couple and they would start a unique relationship it could be a movie of television show.

My interest is piqued hearing the story as it it told to me all I can do I snap my fingers as my team excuses itself and they exit the office for me and I start to discuss with my part.

They listen unaware of the subtle sound of music blast through the speaker lulling them in to a slow state, and I can seem begin to blink and their bodies sway to the sound of my voice.

I rose to my feet as they match me watching my hand lift in the air, I let me fingers come together snapping my finger and everything crackles as they wake up shocked at all of my ability.

“Tom! Do you have anything to say?”

“I am in awe of your power!”

“What are you saying?”

“You are so Masterful!”

“I cannot believe this “

“It’s the truth Master Lawrence “

“How about you Taron?”

“I love you “

“You are my world “

“We will write something phenomenal “

“You will be a star “

“Tom agrees “

Part 7 - 8

“Meet your new directors”

“Your names?”

“We are the directors “

“I am Henry”

“I am Charlie”

“How do you have so much influence “

“Bois is explain it to them “

“Master Lawrence knows all and sees all”

“I am everything to them and of you”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“That email you sent”

“Absolutely! Wake up call”

“Uuuuuggggghhhhhh!”

“Fffuuuccckkkk”

“We are primed Master”

“How can we make this experience perfect”

“My list of demands”

“Your will shall be done”

The end

[lpmurphy]

One Two

Fic Summary: Who she once was became fuzzier as the years went on; blurrier around the edges, like a scope that was out of focus. But in all of the memories that remained hers, there was him.

Chapter Summary: Riz has a bad idea. Vannak thinks otherwise.

Note: Riz and Vannak have been living in my head rent free for weeks now, and can stay as long as they would like. Please enjoy my self indulgent attempt to give them the better we were robbed of.

Two: Bugs in a Jar

IT wasn’t all bad or scary. At least, not the whole time. After the second year, Riz stopped missing home. It became clear that she wasn’t going back there. They all asked in those early days when they first arrived. At first, the question was ignored each time they asked it, or they made them do push ups for talking back. Soren did a lot of push ups. 

The final time the question was asked was during one of their ‘tests’ with Doctor Halsey. Sensors and wires would be stuck to their bodies and they would be given a task to do in a group of four. Doctor Halsey and her team would stand behind a window and take notes while they worked. The tasks were always difficult; she realized as they got older that it was never about the task being solved, but rather how they worked together to solve it. She had been paired with Julia, Li, and Louis when Julia asked Doctor Halsey when they could go home. She missed her brother, she told her. Jamie was little. He didn’t know the way from his classroom to their mother’s class yet. She was supposed to walk with him after the bell, and was worried he’d be scared to do it by himself. But Doctor Halsey only tilted her head and stared back at her like she was examining a bug in a jar. 

“My dear girl,” she said softly. “You are home.”

No one asked again after that.

Home became harder to remember, too. Instead of a memory, it became a lingering feeling, like an old familiar body ache that settled into the cracks of her unknowing. A dull throb that she pushed against and worked through, ignoring it until the next blow would come and bring with it the next wave that distracted her from the first. She pushed it down each time; let it beat against her like she was the rock upon which those waves crashed, undeterred and unminding of the ache. 

Pain was weakness, they had told her. She wouldn’t have time to feel it. Feeling it would get her killed, or others for that matter. There was only time to move forward, so she did. No complaints. No tears. Those were for children. And after all, she wasn’t a child. She was a Spartan. Spartans don’t cry, and neither would she. She never mentioned that pain. Doctor Halsey would have used it as a reason to run more tests and find a reason to make it go away. She wasn’t sure that she wanted it to go away. It belonged to her. Nothing much belonged to her anymore. She preferred to protect the things that did, even if they did hurt. It was hers to feel, after all. 

After a while, it just became normal. Like a growing pain that she just had to ignore. Sometimes they had fun, too. A different kind of fun, but she would take it wherever she could find it. 

She made friends, too. After they all had been paired together, she stuck with the same few. Kai wanted to talk, and was pretty funny. Nora and Julia were nice, and she liked that their beds were close to hers. John was quiet and preferred to listen, so he and Kai spent a lot of time together, even when she could tell he didn’t really want to. But she and Vannak got along the best. They didn’t have to talk, or try to find what value the other could provide to them. They could just be, and she liked that the best. They’d sit on his bunk together while they worked on their cognitive trainings and neither of them would say a word. They would just be. She liked just being with him. 

He was still the biggest. A head taller than the rest of the boys, and broad, too. She still had to look up at him like she had the first time they met. Much to his delight, he was stronger than the rest of them. Their instructors were pleased by it too; he took down his opponents quickly when they had to do hand-to-hand combat and was never overpowered. He always won, and she knew he liked winning. Especially when the others would wager their dessert privileges or better chores on who would win.  It seemed like it took him even less time on those occasions. 

However, every time they had to go up against each other though, he was more careful that he was with the others. Usually, he was ruthless; a fluid series of quick movements that would leave his opponent on their back before they ever knew it had started. It pissed her off the first time she felt his grip loosen before he swept her off of her feet. She didn’t need to be treated like she was delicate. She wasn’t delicate, and had told him as much before she stormed out of the gym and didn’t speak to him for two days until their names were called again. 

That time, he didn’t hesitate before slamming her onto her back and knocked the air out of her lungs. Once she caught her breath, he held out his hand in a silent offer and she let him help her up without a word. They spent all of their downtime in the gym that evening while he taught her how to deflect the move he had used on her until she could do it every time. She tried to hide her smile each time he told her, ‘nice job, Red’ until she just couldn’t anymore. 

He was the only one allowed to call her that. Karim did once. She threw him down the way Vannak taught her and bent his wrist back until he tapped out and apologized. 

Her favorite part was when they turned eight and they were given their jobs. She wasn’t sure when she turned eight. It had been like when she turned seven and was just told that she was seven now. Eight had been no different. She was just eight until they decided to tell her that she was nine. 

They all got different jobs based upon the things they were good at. Languages became her job. As long as she could remember, she liked words. Their meanings and how they were formed and the way they felt in her mouth. She could remember two voices that spoke in different languages, but it felt like she was trying to listen to someone whisper in a different room. Their faces were never fully formed in her mind. Instead, it was just a warm glow. A feeling.  She tried to force herself to remember and sometimes she could; a flash of hair the same color as hers or a man’s rumbling laughter. But it was getting harder to remember now. Needless, she had been excited when they told her she would train to become a linguist. The word felt familiar in her mouth when she whispered it to herself in bed that night. She couldn’t wait to figure out why. 

During the day, after morning PT, hand-to-hand drills, firearms proficiency, and class with Déjà, they would be sent off for their specialized training before tactical exercises in the afternoon. It was her favorite part of the day. She would spend two hours learning different languages; how they were spoken and all of the different dialects, how to identify those different dialects and where they were from, and to speak it herself. She’d be given her assignment for the day and was always the first to turn it in because she would get too excited, but never went so quickly that she got the answers wrong. 

Sometimes she would teach Vannak what she learned, and he would teach her what he learned. Dr. Halsey said he had a scientific mind, so most of his studies surrounded chemistry, engineering, and physics. She taught him sign language, which was her favorite out of all the languages she had learned so far. Each gesture had to be done perfectly right in order to  be understood, which she liked because sometimes words just couldn’t be perfectly said, and with this she didn’t have to say anything at all. Vannak liked it because it was quiet, too. They would trade before lights out - a new sign for a fact. They would sit on his bunk, he would tell her something new and fascinating, and she would take his hand and bend his fingers until they made the right shape. It always took him a couple of tries, and he would ask her to move his fingers again and again, which surprised her. He was usually a really fast learner. 

They used it to silently communicate when the instructors weren’t looking or when they didn't want the others to know what they were saying. Vannak learned all the naughty words that Soren taught them and tried to make her laugh at inappropriate times. One time he did while Mendez was doing uniform inspections, and they had to run a mile for each year of their age. It was the only time she wished they hadn’t told her she turned eight. Vannak got better at being sneaky, and she stopped laughing.

Her favorite thing she taught him was when she learned about sign names; a gesture picked specifically for a specific person to identify them. It reminded her of their numbers; there was only one 28 and one 134. Picked specifically for a specific person. When she told him about them that evening before lights out after he told her about quantum mechanics, he took her hands excitedly and placed his own in them, waiting for her instruction.

“Show me mine,” he said. He placed his palms under hers and her cheeks felt hot for a moment. 

“It doesn’t work like that.” She didn’t move her hands from his. Just stared down at his fingers below her own. “You have to come up with it on your own,” she explained. 

He nodded slowly, like he was thinking of a dozen different ways to reply. She had seen John do the same hundreds of times, like he was weighing each response. “Okay…” he said. “Then you come up with one for me, and I’ll come up with one for you.”

That burning feeling returned as she thought. They considered each other for a few moments before he nodded and told her that he had hers. His hand slipped out from under hers to lift it to his face in a movement like he was stroking his lips with his pointer finger. Red. Her lips lifted into a small smile.

“Show me mine,” he nodded, returning her smile. She lifted two fingers to her bicep in a V and his smile only widened. He shifted closer to her on the bed and took her hands again, “What else can you show me?”

She taught him the differences between German and French Sign Language until they called lights out and she returned to her bunk. He signed to her the way he did every night from the bed across from hers, but a new sign followed it before he turned over onto his side. 

Goodnight, Red.

She smiled and repeated the sign he waited for back to him before he closed his eyes.

Goodnight, Vannak.

She turned over on her bed as well and ignored the wide grin Kai offered her. Her own only returned when she turned her back to Kai. 

----

Sometimes her assignments came with readings. Those were her favorite. Books or articles would be sent to her pad, and her task was to identify the language, the regional dialect used and what star systems used it, what century the dialect originated from, and to translate the entire document into whatever language she was directed to by the AI responsible for her training.

This time, a handwritten field book about carnivorous birds written in the messiest Turkish she had ever seen had been delivered to her pad. She was halfway done with translating the couple hundred pages into Southwestern Mandarin when Vannak sat down heavily on the foot of her bunk and pulled her pad towards himself. 

“What did Hugo give you this time?”

With a roll of her eyes, she jerked her pad back and set it back on her bunk. She explained the assignment to him, swatting his hand away each time he tried to pull it back to himself. Finally, he caught her hand before she could push his away and pulled her pad to him again.

“Stop hitting me and let me see!” His brow quirked up as he looked over a pencil sketch of a vulture, neatly labeled in the messy handwriting she had learned to decipher. He slid his finger across the display, flipping to the next page to study the next image with the same quiet intensity.

“If you lose my place, I’ll start hitting harder,” she quipped. He didn’t fire back a retort or sign back an insult like he usually would. Instead, he examined the image curiously and zoomed in on the spidery text surrounding it. 

“What does it say?” He asked.

He returned to the image of a large, regal looking bird with a hooked beak and the same hard stare she had seen on his face so many times. She crossed her legs under her to make room for him and he sprawled out on his stomach beside her. 

“Don’t you want to go first?” 

“I always go first,” he said. “It’s your turn. What does this say?”

He nudged the pad towards her and pointed at one of the blocks of writing. Turkish was still tricky, but reading out loud was helpful sometimes. Vannak was always willing to listen to her read through the more difficult translations. She followed his finger and read the name of the animal aloud. 

“It’s a cinereous vulture,” she said, “It says that the scientist that observed it had been tracking its flight patterns for over eight months.”

Requests for further translations came between his wide eyed examinations of the illustration, zooming in and out to look over the bird’s taloned feet and the shading on its feathers. His voice changed with each enthralled request - an excited whisper rather than the always serious monotone she knew. It made her want to laugh, but she wasn’t sure why. He had seen sketches like these before; they’d all started field sketching with Déjà a few weeks back. John had been the best at it, which surprised everyone but John. 

“Someone drew these?” He murmured. “They must have been so close to it.” 

“A biologist did. They’re really old, though.” 

“Cool…” he flipped to the next image. He looked over the sketch of five hawks huddled on a branch, their hard, predatory stares all locked on the artist. He leaned her pad towards her again, “What does that say?”

“They’re called Harris’s hawks. They hunt in packs. They wrote that most are solitary, but the most successful ones form packs that they rely upon for food.”

Without lifting his eyes from the display, he smiled. He was quiet for a moment before he nudged it towards her and shifted again on her bunk so that his head rested on her pillow,  “Read me the rest?” 

She laid down beside him, their heads tilted towards each other as she raised her pad above their faces. “Fine, but you owe me two new things, then.”

“Deal.”

She read page after page while he listened. His eyes never left the page, but at times it felt like eyes were on her. She must have been imagining it, though. Every time she looked over, his eyes were still locked on her pad until lights out.

She wasn’t the first to submit her assignment that time. She was okay with that. 

Vannak rattled off every fact she had told him to anyone who would listen the following morning during breakfast. Julia told her afterwards that it was the most she thought she had ever heard him talk. John kept listening long after everyone else stopped. He was always really good at that.

The following evening ended no differently. This time, however, she had gotten in trouble for asking for an extension on her assignment and had to spend the night scrubbing toilets in the locker rooms before she could go back. It wasn’t that bad. Soren was there too, so at least she had company. He was there most nights. When she arrived back at the barracks, Vannak was already sitting on her bunk with his feet tucked under him like he had been waiting for her for a while. 

“You first?” He asked before she even sat down. The excitement that edged his voice made her raise an eyebrow.

“I went first yesterday,” she said. The harsh smell of bleach still clung to her clothes and filled her nose. She wanted to take a shower before they shared, but Vannak didn’t budge. “It’s your turn.”

“I always go first,” he said. Which was true, but she didn’t say anything. “Do you still have that book?”

She shook her head and sat down across from him without sitting on her pillow. The last thing she wanted was for her pillow to smell like the toilets while she was trying to sleep. “I had to return it to Hugo when I finished my assignment. He pulled it from my pad as soon as I was done.”

The way his shoulders sank made hers too. Disappointment flickered across his face. “Can you get it back? I didn’t get to see all of it.” The disappointment remained when she shook her head and explained that Hugo and Doctor Halsey dictated what reading materials she received, and how long she’d have it for. “That’s too bad,” he shrugged. “I liked looking at it with you.”

Disappointment was replaced by the stony expression he always wore. Usually it wouldn’t bother her, the familiarity was actually nice most of the time, but seeing it made her stomach twist. Assuming that it was just from the lingering cleaning fumes, she swallowed it down and listened as he shared about wave-particle duality with less enthusiasm than he usually would. It lacked the same breathless, almost too fast way he’d usually talk about something that interested him, and she hadn’t realized that the sound of someone not taking a breath at all between sentences was something she’d grow to miss. She’d never stop being friends with Kai then, she decided. She’d miss her way too much if that was the case.

Before he could switch from explaining wavelength trajectories to velocities, she interjected with a tumble of blurted words that shattered the stoic mask he wore and lifted his lips into a smile she had only ever seen on Soren, which instantly made her wish she could take it back. 

“I have an idea.”

----

It was a bad idea. 

An awful idea. 

Şimdiye kadarki en kötü fikir.

She knew that.

But Vannak kept telling her that it was going to be fine, and he had never been wrong before. So, she went along with it. 

Vannak stood beside her with his back pressed against the wall. The academic wing of the trailing facility stretched beyond them under dim lighting. The building was silent, save for the occasional footstep or whispered conversations between night guards. Riz wiggled her fingers and waited for Vannak’s signal to move. What surprised her most was not that she had agreed to sneak out of the barracks far past curfew to ‘redistribute’ UNSC property, as Vannak put it, but that they hadn’t been caught yet. 

She had been sure that they were going to be seized by the collars of their shirts and dragged off to the first superior officer that could be found when they snuck out of the barracks and into the training facilities. But despite his size, Riz was reminded of just how light Vannak was on his feet. She always preferred to be paired with him during stealth exercises because of it. Each turn and crouch in the shadows to avoid passerbys only added to the bit of brave she felt in his presence. 

But, being brave didn’t mean she had to be stupid, too. And this was definitely stupid.

“Are you sure about this?” She whispered. 

Vannak glanced around the wall of the doorway alcove they stood huddled in before he motioned for her to cross to the next. He followed a moment after her with a final look down the hall and joined her, his shoulder pressing into hers. 

“You said it yourself; all of the books are kept in the archive database in the classrooms. All we have to do is sneak in, get into the database, and make it look like Hugo downloaded them onto your pad. It’s so easy, I could do it in my sleep.”

He glanced again and motioned for her to stop at the sound of footsteps. Loud whistling grew nearer in a jaunty tune before it passed and took the sound of footsteps with it. They both pressed their backs to the wall, and she waited for Vannak to give her the signal. He glanced down at her with a smile, but it felt different that the usual toothy grin he met her with. 

“Don’t you trust me?” He whispered.

Of course she trusted him. Over the past years, she’d trusted all of them with her life. She knew he could get them without anyone knowing. One of his jobs was to hack into datasystems and retrieve information without being noticed. After his last assignment where he retrieved personnel files on high ranking officials from behind high security firewalls, she was confident that he could download a few books to her pad and go undetected. But the feeling that spread through her chest in a warm crawl didn’t feel like it stemmed from that. She figured it was just his little bit of brave he shared with her. She nodded.

“Good,” He smiled. “Follow my lead.”

He swept the doorway over his shoulder to check if they were clear before she crossed to the next wall and assumed the same position. He remained until he glanced again and turned to meet her eyes with a nod before he followed behind, careful to remain out of the reach of the hallway lights before he joined her in the shadows again.

The classroom door sat on the opposite side of the hall from the alcove they tucked into. A satisfied smirk lifted her lips at the sight of the darkened classroom through the open doorway. She gestured for Vannak to follow her and started across the hall, but before she could take a full step, fingers knotted in the back of her shirt and yanked her back against the wall.

“What was that f-?” She hissed, but a hand clapped over her mouth before she could finish. She swatted his arm away but Vannak pushed her back against the wall and turned to face her. His hand covered her mouth again and he brought a finger to his lips before he brought his free hand to his mouth and crossed it over his lips. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he dropped it, then turned his palm towards his chest and wiggled his fingers. 

Quiet. Wait.

She licked his palm in hopes that he would drop it from her mouth in disgust, but he only pushed harder. Attempts to free herself were forgotten when the sound of heels clicked down the hall, followed by a familiar muted voice. He must have heard it before she did. She kicked herself as the noise grew nearer. If this had been a simulation, she would have gotten ripped apart for being complacent and leading her team into defeat. 

The voice grew closer and Vannak dropped his hand so that he could press against the wall beside her, facing the same way as the direction of the steps in hopes that they would walk by undetected. Both watched wide eyed as Doctor Halsey passed through the hallway, still speaking lowly to herself as she dictated notes on her pad. Both were silent and still while she turned the corner, and remained that way until they could no longer hear the omnipotent click of her shoes against the floors.

She puffed out a breath and turned to face Vannak. He brought a fist to his forehead and lifted his pinky, a smirk breaking his hard stare. 

Idiot.

She smacked his hand down and stuck out her tongue, but she smirked too. This time, she waited for his signal before she followed him across the hall into the dark room and closed the door behind them noiselessly.

“You should teach everyone to do that,” he grinned. “It would be so much easier if we all could sign.”

She returned his grin with a small smile and nodded, but it felt dishonest. She didn’t intend to. 

“Don’t turn on the lights,” he whispered. He neared the monitors with her pad in hand while she stood guard at the door, her eyes fixed down the hall. “No reason to draw any attention.”

“This is a bad idea, Vannak,” she whispered back. She pulled her eyes from the hall to glance over at where he stood over the monitors working furiously.

“Don’t be a baby, Red,” he didn’t look up as he spoke, but the corner of his mouth tugged up like he could feel her scowl from the door. 

“I’m not a baby.”

“Then stop acting like one,” he shrugged. “This was your idea, after all. It’ll only take me a couple of more minutes, and then we can go back to the barracks.”

She shot him a nasty look from the door. It was her idea, but she didn’t like him pointing it out. Nor did she ever like it when he was right, even though he had only ever been right a few times. But it didn’t matter to him; he’d bring it up every chance he could and his face would get all smug and stupid and she wanted to punch it. She never let him be right often, and he usually let her be, because it hurt less to just pretend that she was.

“Fine,” she snapped. “Go faster.”

He waved a dismissive hand and signed for her to keep her eyes on the hall. She turned back to her post, but her eyes strayed from the hall to watch as he worked. His fingers moved between displays and monitors as he checked between the database and her pad. They’d worked together on multiple simulations before, but she had never had an opportunity to watch him work. Only participate beside him. His brows furrowed as he looked between displays, his tongue poking between his teeth the same way it did when he was focusing on a target. He glanced up and she looked away, her face feeling hot despite the cool temperatures of the empty room. 

He waved her over to him and returned his eyes to her pad. With a final sweep of the hallway, she crossed the room to stand beside him, both looking down at her pad. The smug, punchable look returned as he showed her the downloaded titles, “I told you.”

She shook her head and looked over the titles again. The field book, along with a few other similar titles sat displayed on the screen, along with another. She read over the title of the book of French folklore someone else had been assigned the week prior and looked up at him.

“You said you wanted to read it last week,” he said sheepishly. “That’s the right one, isn’t it?”

She nodded. She didn’t remember telling him. He smiled, “Maybe you could read this one to me, too?”

Before she could nod again, the room was washed in a bright flicker of light. Riz felt her blood run ice cold. She assumed that the same chill ran through Vannak when he straightened up with a stunned expression. They both snapped up to face the figure that stood beside the light switch.

Doctor Halsey stared back at them from the doorway, expressionless. She didn’t say a word. Neither did they. They both straightened up, but Riz would have preferred that they had been caught by anyone else when Halsey cocked a pale brow.

“What do you two think you are doing?” she asked. 

Riz learned early on that when most adults asked her what she was doing, it wasn’t because they actually wanted an answer. It just meant stop. But Doctor Halsey wasn’t most adults. She raised her eyebrows, imploring them to answer, but both were still too surprised to see her to speak. Her eyes fell to the pad in Riz’s hands, and her stone faced stare did not break as she held out an anticipatory hand. “Give it to me.”

Riz placed the pad in her hand and stepped back beside Vannak. She felt like her insides had been scooped out when Halsey scrolled through her pad. Without looking up at either of them, she asked, “Whose idea was this?”

Riz felt her heart leap from her stomach into her throat when Doctor Halsey lifted her eyes from the pad to settle on Vannak. She stepped forward, “It was my-.”

Vannak’s voice rose over her own as he stepped ahead of her, “It was my idea, ma’am.”

Riz’s neck twisted to look up at him, surprise creasing her face, but Vannak remained straight and tall as he stared ahead. She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand behind his back. It brought her to a halt. They all knew that signal. It was a clear command, so she followed orders. It didn’t stop the sinking feeling that settled into her belly when Halsey raised a brow again in silent demand.

“Am I to understand, 134, that not only are you out of bed after curfew in the company of a fellow Spartan; but you have used your little midnight walk to hack into a secure database to download unauthorized files?” She asked quietly, but Riz got the feeling that she always got when Halsey asked them questions. Like she already knew the answer and was waiting to see if they gave her the same one.

Vannak nodded, “Yes, ma’am. I convinced 028 to come with me. If anyone should get punished, it should be me, ma’am.” 

Something she didn’t recognize fluttered in her chest. She glanced over at where he stood straight and unwavering as Halsey examined him, searching for something. He gave her nothing to find as he stood on his lie, and Riz stayed firm beside him. Halsey remained quiet for a long time, watching over them like they were specimens and she was waiting for them to do something to interest her. Heavy silence fell between them and it felt like it was pressing her down under it. The longer the silence remained, the harder it became to stay still. When Doctor Halsey said nothing, it was usually worse than when she spoke. But she continued to look at them. They stayed quiet. One of Vannak’s hands fluttered at his side.

It’s okay.

She believed him.

Halsey’s eyes dropped to the movement and Vannak quickly pressed his hand to his leg, palm flat against his sleep pants. Steely gray eyes lifted to look between the two of them.

“Interesting,” she whispered. She turned and motioned for them to follow her, “With me, Spartans.”

They exchanged a tight look and fell in behind her. Silently, they trailed behind her as she led them out of the facilities. Possible punishments raced through her mind as they followed her. Nothing seemed worse than the psychological evaluation she was sure they would be subjected to after an act of insubordination. Soren said that those were worse than whatever physical punishment he received, and she assumed that he would know better than anyone. But if Vannak was worried about the same, he didn’t show it.

They continued to follow, and Riz felt her dread disintegrate into confusion when Halsey led them in the opposite direction of the SLQs and towards the barracks. She wondered if it had all just been a strange dream when Halsey placed her hand on the access scanner and led them through the doors. When Doctor Halsey turned to a night guard to explain that she was returning them from physical examinations that ran into the night, Riz was convinced she was dreaming.

Doctor Halsey stopped at the doorway and glanced in to look over the sleeping forms of the rest of the Spartans. Evaluating eyes turned back to them a final time.

“If I find you two out of bed after curfew again, you can I expect a different outcome. Understood?” She said quietly.

They both nodded, Riz still considering her cautiously. Certainly, this had to be one of her tests. She started to consider outcomes, what could possibly be coming next as they both whispered their apologies. But the twist she feared didn’t come. Halsey nodded her head towards their empty bunks and whispered, “Go to sleep.”

Neither wasted any time following her orders as they slunk back across the dark barracks. Halsey waited in the doorway, still watching while they climbed into their bunks and turned over onto their sides. She remained in the doorway, still watching a moment longer. But the way she looked out over them didn’t make Riz feel quite like a bug in a jar as it usually did before she turned and disappeared back up the door hall. 

Once they were sure her footsteps were inaudible, both sat up on their bunks, eyes still adjusting to the dark and hearts racing as they scrambled to the ends of their beds. Riz swallowed hard against the thundering that she could feel in her throat. Vannak was the first to lift his hands.

Are you alright?

She ignored his question and instead asked her own that had been racing in her mind since the lights came on. Why did you lie?

Vannak didn’t hesitate before he signed back. I didn’t want you to get in trouble.

Riz recoiled slightly as she watched his hands. It had been her idea that had almost gotten him in trouble, after all. He should be mad at her, not worried about what the consequences of her own stupid idea brought on to her. But it was my idea, she tilted her head. Why did you do that?

Vannak’s hand dropped into his lap, that stoic expression returning as he considered her from where he sat that told her that he was thinking. Finally, he raised a hand and gestured between himself and her. Because you’re my best friend. His lips tugged up into a small smile. We take care of each other. Got it?

She didn’t need to think like he did. Got it.

She wasn’t sure what made her bounce forward to press a kiss to his cheek. Vannak sat on the edge of his bed silently, his eyes wide like he was stunned. She couldn’t recall a time when she had seen him surprised before, not even when Halsey had walked into the room. Everything he did was handled with the same silent steady that he had been for as long as she could remember. A steady presence in which she could rely upon. She trusted him as if he were simply a part of herself. 

He remained silent, and she wondered for a moment if she had upset him until he smiled that big smile that stretched his whole face. Relief loosened the knot in her gut when he lifted his hand again to sign goodnight before he climbed into bed.

She smiled too. She hadn’t smiled much since they got here. There wasn’t much reason to. But he seemed to always find a way to make her even when she couldn’t find that reason. She didn’t stop smiling as she crawled into bed and turned over onto her side.