#yes I am still watching more of the early dub instead of finishing the water seven arc sub Do Not @ me

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

Me watching the East blue arc the first time: man this opening song is kinda lame. So very early 00s. Eh whatever.

Me watching the East blue arc for the third time: There’s always room For You! If you wanna be my ~frieeend~ we are! We Are! On the cruuuuuise!!!!

[darkmindsotome]

Icy Interrogation

Title: Icy Interrogation

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss

Pairing:  Kazuomi Shido x MC

Word count: 2,998

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Summary:  A sudden trip with no explanation triggers a game of unmasking that becomes hotter than the weather.

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #10: Ice Cube Cool Down | Ice Cream Cool Down

---

It was a lazy day and I found myself still temporarily “homeless” and staying at Raven. When everything had happened, Kazuomi stepped up and offered me a job and a roof over my head. I was really grateful to him. Not just with the offer but knowing that I would have lost another part of myself in the line of duty without him.

As ludicrous as it sounded, he was my safe place I could run to and know I would be accepted. The man topping the world's blacklists as the number one bad guy. The man who at any moment could once more be my target. It was his loving arms always reaching out for me, willing to hold me. Me as I am, not who I was for work. Plain old Mc. It was a joy I had never experienced before in any other relationship. He was his own brand of dangerous persuasion and I continue to fall fast and hard for it every time.

Since becoming a couple, he had helped me remember the me who I was before all the lies, aliases and espionage. He comforted me when I didn’t even know I needed it and accepted me no matter how I was acting. The love and kindness of this man was an absolute truth he hid well behind his usual playboy mask. That’s not to say he was an Angel, if anything he was a Devil at times. Still, better the Devil you know right?

Raven in England was different to Raven in New York or Tokyo. It was still a grand luxury hotel but there was something a bit more reserved about it. I giggled imagining how that sat with Mr Dramatic. A man famed the world over for his extravagance and love of all things opulent.

I had been rushed onto a private jet in the early hours of the morning in New York only to wake up in an airfield in England nearly seven hours later. All my repeated requests for my boyfriend to explain why I was here were met with evasive answers. In typical Kazuomi fashion, he would not reveal any secrets, if I wanted to know I would have to uncover the answers myself. Well, game on.

When I was pondering how I would get him to crack the door to the penthouse opened, the man in question strolling inside. The dark green bags in his hand had the words Harrods picked out clearly on them in gold. He vanished into the kitchen and reappeared empty-handed moments later with a big grin on his face.

“Welcome back.” I adjusted myself on the sofa dropping the magazine I had been idly perusing on the coffee table. The ice in my glass clinked against the tumbler where a final mouthful of fruit juice remained waiting to be drunk.

“What no third degree?” Kazuomi practically purred. He was really in a very happy mood which made me even more suspicious. Seriously what was this guy up to?

“What would be the point? You already made it very clear you intend on telling me nothing. I’m not in the habit of wasting my time on a blisteringly hot day.” I shrugged pretending my curiosity was not reaching its limits.

Kazuomi was watching me intently. My little act was no doubt doing nothing to hide anything from him. Damn him and his observational superpowers. It was easy to tell that he was wanting me to bite. Take the bait and play along with his little games. ever since my questioning on the plane he had this playful look in his eyes.

The heat of the summer here was different to that from back home and I was feeling sluggish. It was so hot even the locals had dubbed the weather “unseasonal” and I had found a bit of solace in a light cotton dress.

“Fair point.” He agreed with me smiling that Cheshire cat grin. I was just about to reach for my glass to finish the last of my drink when he took it for himself. I watched as the minted apple juice was drained over his lips and slid down his throat. “Ah, that’s the stuff.”

“Hey!”

“Yes?” He kept hold of the glass in his hand-balancing it on the back of the sofa we were sharing. The look on his face was far from guilty if anything it was yet another taunt to get me to play with him. A silent request I was already planning on fulfilling.

“Oh, you are so going to regret that.”

“Am I? I can’t wait to see what my Goddess has in mind for retribution.”

That cocky grin on his face was as irritating as it was sexy. Well, the game had officially started so I guess now it's time to play. His successful theft of my drink had given me an idea.

I moved over to his side careful to push my breast against his arm and let him see them taking a new form as they pressed into him. He was observant enough to have seen from the second he walked in that I wasn't in a full set of lingerie. Trailing my hand over his leg from his knee to the top of his thigh, I made sure to brush a little too close to his cock. He relaxed back into the sofa. Both arms now stretched out over the seat he looked like the epitome of a lion surveying the savannah.

“Mm don’t tell me my girl has been bored waiting for me?” That same playful happy purr rippled through the room. This time instead of spiking my curiosity it made my heartbeat speed up.

“You left me all alone again without a single word as to when you’d be back and with only glossy magazines to keep me company.” I whined a little as I played the part he wanted. I wasn’t so new at these little games that I would not know my own role.

Reading my target was something that kept me alive on missions. It was what made our games together so much fun. Both of us competing to unmask the other. To get the other to surrender and declare a winner. It was a little amusing that it normally “officially” ended in a draw between us even if Kazuomi was really the winner in all honesty.

“A disastrous oversight on my part. How ever would you like me to make it up to you?” On cue, he made the first play. He was matching my mock whine with fake placation in his voice. Moving his hips so my hand brushed harder where he wanted it to.

“Well, you could tell me why we are here. I thought you had work in New York to attend too.” I pulled my hand away preventing his move and brought it up to his cheek. Brushing my thumb over his lips as I looked into his eyes. He took the pad of my thumb between his lips biting down onto it before answering.

“Somethings are more important and can’t wait.”

“What things?” I tried pressing for a real answer knowing how futile it was. His eyes were locked on me in that stubbornly defiant manner he had where he was not going to give up anything until he was ready.

“All will be revealed in due time.” The grin on his face spread wider. He was certainly enjoying this.

I gave up simply stroking him and decided to straddle him instead. The sight of him trapped under me was always a thrill and not one I always had. Kazuomi was the type to enjoy what he called a perfect view. It only happened for as long as he would allow it before I was usually flipped over and he ended up on top.

Our bedroom activities were always a flurry of motion and give and take. The endless competition between us to come out on top. This kind of contest that carried throughout our relationship and into sex left us both craving more. Right now, I was looking for something he had, the key to the secret emergency trip to England that in his mind couldn’t wait.

My fingers undid his shirt while he remained very calm and collected, his arms still locked over the back of the sofa. The only part of him moving except for the growing bulge under my thighs was his eyes. They were roaming over me taking in every detail and mapping every curve.

After uncovering his broad bare chest, I dipped my hand down and relieved him of his belt. Leaning forward I covered his lips with mine. His tongue lapped at my lower lip before pushing past and ravishing my mouth. The remnants of mint and apple on his tongue dissolved inside me as the heat between us rose.

The arms that had been holding back were wrapping around me tight like a snake. The cold glass in his hand pressed into the dip of my spine causing me to groan into his mouth. If I wasn’t careful, he was going to steal all of my rational thoughts and I would forget about my self-imposed mission.

Reaching behind I took the empty glass from his hand. After breaking out of our lip lock I poured one of the melting ice cubes into my mouth. The devilish smirk on his face was still plastered there. He had never once tried to hide how he loved his kinky little games and I was always willing to play along.

I reached up and pulled a fist full of his reddish-brown hair exposing his neck to me. Dragging the ice in my mouth over that pulsating artery and feeling him moaning under me was like I was charged with an electrical current. His hands settled on my ass rubbing his thumbs over the top of the elastic on my panties through my dress. I pushed his hands away pinning one on either side of him and brought my mouth lower.

The water from the melting ice escaped my lips running across his muscles. That broad chest becoming something of a salacious slip and slide. I tracked the flow to his own waistband and slid my weight from his lap to rest my head over his now rock hard desire.

He hissed as I pulled it free from the confines of his pants exposing enough to do what I planned and no more. The hiss became an almost instant grunt as he bucked his hips against me when I slid the ice along his shaft. Rolling it and my tongue around that throbbing head and back down again. He hated to be in clothes at times like this and I was taking a little satisfaction in his discomfort. Karma is a bitch, isn’t it?

Ice melted now I wrapped my mouth around his cock bobbing my head alternating fast and slow. I was taking full advantage of the chill in my mouth before it had time to fade, seeking peeks at him from between his thighs. Each time I looked up I saw that dark and powerful look waiting for me. The one that didn’t just threaten to eat me up but promised to. I felt my own passions stirring more and was a little thankful when he freed his hands and pulled me off his cock back up into his lap.

“Is that another of your little spy tricks?” He was rushing to free me from my dress. His fingers fumbling with the buttons.

“You know I never sleep with someone when I’m working.” I reminded him of the facts, rolling my hips against him before whispering in his ear. “It’s all me.” He shuddered when I took the lobe of his ear in my mouth and gave it a little tug. Our little game was only just beginning.

“What a bad girl you are.” He chuckled pulling me to him so he could clamp down on my collar bone. A sting of pain later and I had a fresh very visible mark for the world to see. It was childish and as much as I would complain later about it I also loved the idea that he wants me so badly he felt compelled to do it. “I always knew you were my kind of woman.”

His fingers now given up with undoing my dress properly slipped into the gaps between them and tugged hard. The sound of fabric ripping and popped buttons hitting the floor like a rainmaker only served to create the music to our mood. His trousers and my panties were yet more fallen victims to our passions.

Shimming to the edge of the sofa he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted us both off the seat. I didn’t complain about the dress I knew it would only be met with “I’ll get you a new one” later. What did make me confused was we weren’t moving towards the bedroom at all.

“Mhm… where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Kazuomi walked into the brightly lit space that was the kitchen. Instead of putting me down on the floor, he sat my ass on the cold hard countertop. The polished marble was beautiful and smooth but damn it was freezing.

He bent down and rummaged around in the freezer for a second before pulling out a small tub with a very familiar logo.

“Is that Lady Borden?”

“A completely new and exclusive flavour. It was released today.” He smiled pulling the paper cap from the carton and then dipping his fingers into the frozen treat. He brought it to my mouth and bit his lips as I slid my tongue over his digits chasing that luxurious creamy delight.

I was so absorbed in not letting the ice cream on his fingers go to waste that it took a few seconds for what he had just said to sink in. Lady Borden was known to produce limited flavours in different countries all over the world. They were exclusive to the place so it was not a massive shock that one would be done in England, but it was released today?

“H-hang on. Are you telling me you put work on hold and flew from one side of the Atlantic to the other JUST to get this?” I snatched the carton from his hand and looked at the pale green container. Luxury Early Grey Tea flavour ice cream. I’d been so into what we were doing I didn’t even taste it.

“Naturally. I know you’re a superfan too and the chance to get my hands on the first tubs of this was too much to pass up.” He took the pot back with one hand and used his other to push me lower onto the marble. “And now I also get to have my favourite dessert on the best plate in the house.”

I felt ridiculous laying on a countertop but I knew that feeling wasn’t going to be in my mind very long. I shivered as he took a scoop of the ice cream out once more on his fingers and drew a line on me from my belly button to my clavicle.

“It’s cold.” I squirmed. Kazuomi dipped down and dragged his tongue along the line he had just painted. Instead of going right to the top, he stopped at my chest. Taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before moving to the other side.

“I’ll warm you up.” His breath over my flushed skin was hotter than anything else in the room.

“It’s all sticky.” I arched against him his trail of kisses and gentle nips with his teeth continued as he lazily painted me with more of the ice cream.  

“I’ll be sure to clean it all up and lick you nice and clean.” He vanished from my peripheral vision. I felt his heat move away leaving me laid out for all to see. His “plate”.

The ice cream was melting fast running in ticklish rivers over me and one that he had placed low down was working its way towards my core. I didn’t have time to look to see where my bad boy boyfriend had gone. With a slap on the counter from his hands, he pounced, his face buried between my thighs as he pinned me in place with his arms and tongue. All strength in my body vanished as it tried to focus on him and his targeted attacks.

“Ah! Kazuomi!” I wasn’t just arching I was sure I had probably contorted into a pretzel at the intensity of the pleasure he was giving me. His mouth was always so talented and the things he did with his fingers? My mind was getting foggy trying to keep up with him.

I was so close and if history told me anything he wasn’t far behind. I was lost in his eyes when he stood back up. The gleam of my own juices lingering on his lips as he licked them clean. With one hand on my hip and the other dragging one of my legs to his shoulder, he positioned me well enough to tell me what was happening next.

Hanging partly off the edge and stretched out in a way that meant he had full control I saw sparks the second he entered me.

“Ngh… Mc.”

The sounds of us joined together echoed in the bright space of the kitchen. The ice cream on my skin adding a new scent between us as our heat soared higher than the weather outside.

I said before Karma was a bitch. The games we had as we had our unmasking sessions added to that knowledge. Right now though as we both lost ourselves in the moment for the first of many times today I really couldn’t bring myself to be angry with them.

---

[onedayiwillflyfree]

When the Sun Begins to Fall Chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255530/chapters/50816953

For the previous two chapters, check it out on AO3

Chapter 3

Gilbert had loved train rides for as long as he could remember. When he was a boy, he always marvelled at their speed and how the scenery looked as they passed by. Now when he boarded one, his mind filled with happy memories of his father and their many adventures in his last few months of life. It had never failed to bring a smile to his face until today.

Today, the train seemed to be trudging along far too slowly and, despite the changing leaves and the cerulean water crashing against the outer edges of the island, the scenery looked dull. Gilbert’s foot bounced as anxiety coursed through his body, his eyes glued out the window.

You haven’t seen her yet, you don’t know that it is consumption. You need to see her. Stop jumping to conclusions.

Bash nudged Gilbert’s twitching foot gently with his own. His attention shot to the man across from him, who in turn gestured towards Gilberts hands and passed him a handkerchief. Gilbert glanced down to notice he had unconsciously tore off the skin surrounding his thumb nail and blood was dripping down the back of his hand. He accepted the rag, pressed it firmly against the ripped skin and turned his attention back to the window. His eyes were starting to burn with exhaustion. Looking down at his watch, he deduced that he had been up for close to fifteen hours already, waking up early to study before he went in to care for back to back patients for twelve hours. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he hadn’t eaten yet either.

“Blythe,” Gilbert lazily rolled his eyes in Bash’s direction. “Get some sleep, worrying won’t make the time go any faster.” Gilbert opened his mouth in protest but Bash lifted his hand. “You and I both know how you are when you don’t sleep. You won’t be any good for her if you’re like this.”

He felt the need to argue but Bash turned his head out the window, indicating the discussion was over. Gilbert rubbed his eyes while quietly deciding that his obnoxious brother was correct. When he was exhausted, he could barely add two and two together, let alone take care of someone. He adjusted himself so that his back was facing the window, resting his head on the cool pane of glass that separates him from the passing world. As he drifted off to sleep, he swore he could hear the trees whispering good night to him.

-------

“So, when do you suppose you will be back?” Anne questioned sorrowfully, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Gilbert hated when she looked this upset. He never quite knew the right thing to say to her. 

He took a deep breath as he walked over to a dying tree at the end of the orchard. “It’s only a semester, but Winnie’s father has set up for me to stay through the summer to attend lectures and expos. So roughly the end of August, give or take.”  He took out spool of twine, wrapping it around the trunk of the tree. Bash would need to cut it before next season to make room for a new tree. 

“And you’re leaving the day after Christmas?” Anne mumbled.

He turned to face her and nodded. “Yes, I am meeting Winnie up in Charlottetown and we will be leaving two days before the new year.” 

“Oh,” she mumbled as she brushed a stray curl behind her ear. Gilbert had always found Anne to be beautiful but recently she had begun to wear her hair up in the most intricate styles, each one complementing her face perfectly. He hated to admit it but everyday, when she met him at the end of the Blythe-Lacroix orchard, his heart skipped a beat. 

They stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other. Anne broke the silence as she turned to face the far end of the orchard. “Perhaps we should keep walking. It’s getting late and if you want to finish tonight, then we should move on.” 

He stepped toward her and instantly they fell back into stride with one another. Over the last four months, since their graduation, each day they would meet on the path where the orchard met the woods and they would walk. Some days they would share ideals and discuss poetry, other days Anne would rant about the pranks some student (whose name began with an M and ended with an innie May) had played on her.

And some days they would get into such a disagreement that Anne would storm off in a rage, claiming she would never speak to him again. But he didn’t worry because he knew the next day, right on time, she would walk up the bend carrying a peace offering. It had become a routine and the most treasured part of his day.

They continued walking the length of the orchard in silence, making Gilbert feel incredibly uncomfortable. They used to be able to silently study with one another, casting occasional glances up at one another. But this silence was different, it wasn’t routine.

 He stopped by one of the final rows of tree and plucked a perfect green apple. He smirked, noticing Anne deep in thought as she continued walking. “Hey, Carrots,” Anne spun around. Her hair caught loosely on a stay branch, pulling her hair pins out of their designated spot as she turned, causing fiery curls to fall over her shoulders. Gilbert’s smirk grew mischievously as a flush crept up her cheeks. “Catch.” He threw the apple, which she caught with ease. She was preparing to throw it back when he turned on his heels and sprinted towards the woods.

“Gilbert Blythe!” he heard her yell as she began to take off after him. “You get back here!” He ran, dodging the trees, occasionally throwing a look over his shoulder to make sure she was still there. She was trying to maintain a serious face as she ran, but every time she yelled at him to stop, he heard laughter in her voice. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

He slowed his stride as they closed in on the lake that Anne had beautifully dubbed The Lake of Shining Waters. Once she closed in, she took aim at his back and threw the apple as hard as she could. It landed on the ground beside him with a soft thud. 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that, Carrots!” he shot a look over his shoulder only to notice she wasn’t running after him any longer. Instead, she stood about ten feet away, panting, her face pink as a peony. He slowed to a stop, meeting her eyes with his own. “Awe Anne,” he ran his fingers through his hair as he started taking steps back towards her. “I was just messin…”

“You promise you will come back, right? To Avonlea, I mean.” Anne asked, stopping him dead in his tracks. He stared at her with wide eyes. “Because when you last left...you promised me that you would come home someday. And you did. And back then...we didn’t even have what we have now.” She looked into his eyes, stepping closer to him slowly.

Gilbert felt as if his heart was going to pound out of his chest. “What do you mean by what we have now?” She continued to step closer to him and he didn’t dare move. Once she was not more than two feet away, she stopped and took a deep breath.

“I just mean this,” she gestured her hands between the two of them as if he was supposed to understand what she meant. He cocked an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes. “Happiness...when we are together. Don’t you feel it too?”

*More than you will ever know*, Gilbert thought to himself. He dared to take a step forward and when she didn’t break his gaze, he closed the remaining foot that separated them.

They continued to hold each other's gaze, Anne not shying away as she used to so often. Something had changed within her since Matthew had passed and she began at Queens. She exuded confidence and strength, becoming the woman she always dreamed she would be as a girl. 

Gilbert wasn’t sure how long they stared at one another for, frankly he didn’t care. He could have stayed there, staring at this beautiful fire queen for the rest of his life if it was allowed. And it was within that moment that he realized the truth. He didn’t want Paris. He didn’t want Sorbonne or even Winifred. He wanted Anne Shirley Cuthbert, the girl who had broken a slate across his face and competed with him so fiercely all these years. Deep down, he had always wanted Anne. 

“Ask me to stay,” he told her, breaking the silence. Anne looked taken aback by the sudden declaration and tears to form in her eyes. They looked on the verge of pooling over when she quickly swept them away. Before she could put her hand back down at her side, he grabbed it in his own. Her skin felt smooth against his calloused palms but her hand fit perfectly within his. It felt right, “I will stay if you ask me to.”

Anne looked at their joined hands and began to contemplate the choice she had been presented with. After a moment, she bit her lip and lifted her free hand up to Gilberts face. She gingerly touched a stray curl before she moving it down to caress his cheek. He held his breath in fear she would pull away if he exhaled.

Sadness flashed across her face and swiftly she pulled away from him, stepping back until they had a few feet between them. Tears fell over her eyelids but she didn’t seem to care. Her voice cracked when she spoke. “I can’t Gil… I’m so sorry…” With that, she turned and ran back up the hill. He wanted to reach out, he wanted to catch her and wrap her up in his arms and never let go. But he knew now that he couldn’t. She had made her choice. 

And it wasn’t him.

------- 

“Gilbert,” he opened his eyes to see Bash standing over him, gently shaking his shoulder. Gilbert straightened and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He peered out the window to the small train platform with a faded sign that read WELCOME TO AVONLEA. Bash patted his shoulder. “Welcome home, brother.”

-------

“Mr. Lacroix, over here!” a voice called from a wagon just down the road. Gilbert smiled, immediately recognizing the wagon and its driver. Jerry Baynard climbed down, tying Belle’s reigns against the hitching post before turning towards the pair. “Gilbert! Welcome home!” Jerry held out his hand that Gilbert accepted, feeling slightly ashamed of how soft his hands had become in the last nine months.

“Jerry, good to see you,” Gilbert replied curtly, throwing his bag onto the back of the wagon and pulling himself up. He wasn’t intentionally trying to be rude, he was excited to be home and to see his old friend, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for small talk. Jerry, seeming to understand Gilberts attitude, swiftly unknotted Belle’s reins and handed them up to Sebastian, who had taken his place in the driver's seat. Bash reached out a hand and pulled Jerry up next to him before giving the reins a sharp flick.

“So,” Jerry turned in his seat. “I have to ask…” He pointed up to Gilberts head. “What’s with the hair?” Bash let out a roar of laughter so loud that it frightened Belle, almost causing them to veer into a ditch. Gilbert rolled his eyes as a confused Jerry looked between the two men.

“See,” Bash, still chuckling as he steered Belle back to center. “Told you there was somethin’ wrong with it.” He cast a glance back at Gilbert, whose jaw tensed. Bash cleared his throat. “Jerry, how about you sing us one of those tunes you’re always hummin’.”

Despite confusion still overwhelming him, Jerry obliged and began to sing. 

------

Even though he was there under peculiar circumstances, it was nice to know that Green Gables stayed the same no matter the occasion. The green shingled room and starch white siding looked the same today as they did the first time he stepped foot on the property, which instantly calmed some worries he felt at the moment. 

“Woah,” Bash pulled Belle to a halt, allowing Jerry to slide down the side of the wagon and open the paddock gate. Once through the gate, Gilbert felt his fingers started to twitch once again. He hadn’t been to Green Gables in over nine months. Not since he had come to say goodbye to Anne, when he had secretly hoped she had reconsidered asking him to stay.

She didn’t.

But she did take him in her arms so tightly he felt as if he was going to burst. They held each other only for a moment, before she walked back into the house, closing the door behind her without another word.

The wagon came to a halt at the entrance of the barn and he threw himself off the back. “I’ll uh, put Belle up. You go on in,” he instructed, beginning to undo Belle’s harness.

He didn’t have to be told twice. In fact, he had to force himself not to bolt up the steps, past Marilla, and straight into Anne’s room. He stepped slow and steady, looking in every direction he could until he stopped just a few feet from the kitchen door, looking down at a cluster of dormant daylily cluster. 

“You know, Green Gables is exquisite as is. However,” Anne wiped her brow, not realizing her forehead was now streaked with soil. “With Matthew gone, the world needs a little more color all around.” She whispered to the plants more so than Gilbert. He didn’t mind, he understood grieving better than most. It had only been a week since Matthews heart had failed him and Anne had been trying her best to cope in any way she could. Two days ago, she baked sixteen apple pies, claiming none of them were perfect and she had to keep trying to get it right. And yesterday, she wrote ten pages on why the Bronte sisters should have never had to pen under a man’s name and discussed society's oppression of women. Gilbert had actually thought the paper to be quite good and wanted to publish it in the paper before she tore it up and threw it into the stove

And today’s method of coping was flowers. She finished patting down the last of the soil and dusted her hands together. “There you are, my dears. Welcome to your new home.” Gilbert looked on as she gently nuzzled her face against each bud, admiring her love for nature and all things good. 

After each bud had received the proper amount of affection, she attempted to stand, only to discover one of her feet had fallen asleep in the process of planting. “Oh no,” she stumbled as Gilbert reached out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her in the opposite direction of the fall. He accidentally pulled her too hard causing her to collide into his chest, sending them both crashing to the ground. Okay, that hurt he thought to himself as he rubbed the small bump that was beginning to form on his tail bone.

Beside him, Anne lay face down in the grass, her shoulders shaking. Gilbert quickly sat up, grabbing her arm. “Anne? Oh God, Anne, are you alright?!” 

She rolled over and he saw why her shoulders were shaking now: she was giggling. No, not just giggling. Laughing so hard that tears began to form in her eyes. “I..am...such...a clutz!” she yelled, barely able to form the sentence.

Gilbert smiled, it was the first time he had seen her smile in a week. Her laughter was uncontrollable and he couldn’t help but join in, her laugh was so sweet that it was contagious. Together, the two lay on the ground, laughing insanely until their stomachs began to ache. After at least two minutes, the laughter began to die down, Gilbert resting his hand on his sore abdomen. Anne stared at the clouds above them as Gilbert turned to look at her. Tears began streaming down her cheeks but she didn’t look upset, she looked hopeful. 

“Gilbert, do you think Marilla will like the flowers? She is so desperately sad.” 

He turned his gaze to join hers, watching the clouds slowly move overhead. “Yeah, Anne, I think she will like them very much.” 

Gilbert pulled his gaze from the flowers and the memories they held when suddenly the screen door crashed opened to reveal a little girl who looked much older than when he last left. Bash’s face lit up excitedly, bending down, ready to hug his little girl. “Hello my little lo…”

“UNSEL GILBUR!” Gilbert barely had time to place his bag on the ground before the toddler launched herself off of the porch. He caught her, wrapping his arms tightly around the girls tiny body as fastened her arms around his neck.

“My girl!” He began smothering his niece’s face with heaps of kisses as her bushy curls tickled his cheeks. He had missed his niece horribly in their time apart from one another, feeling a piece of his heart was missing. She grabbed hold of his face, giggling, and gingerly placed a sloppy kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Well then,” Bash mocked hurt but was unable to hide a jovial tone behind his words. Gilbert allowed a chuckle to escape his lips when the screen door flew open once more, only this time revealing the harrowing Marilla Cuthbert. Wiping her flour covered hands on her apron in frustration, she began to scold the young girl.

“Delphine Lacroix, I have told you a hundred times not to…” her demeanor changed when her gaze met Gilberts own. “Gilbert Blythe, well aren’t you a site for sore eyes.”

Gilbert slowly lowered Dellie to the ground next to him, taking her small hand within his own. “Hello Marilla.” Tears formed in the older woman’s eyes as she took gently strides towards him, stopping when she was an arms length away. “You look well.” he bent down to kiss her cheek softly. Stunned, she reached her hands and grasped his biceps, letting the tears dampen her cheeks. 

“Look at you,” she scanned the length of his body, still in shock of the man that stood before her. “You left for Paris a boy, and they sent us back a man.” 

“Yeah, they also sent him back with a haircut that makes him look like a moke,” Bash lifted his daughter, who seemingly just noticed that her father was there. Marilla whacked the towel that had sitting on her shoulder against Bash’s arm. Dellie giggled when her father jumped “Ow, its true!” Bash and Marilla stared at one another before they too began to laugh.

Gilberts eyes moistened, unable to fight the happiness he was feeling at that very moment. He was home, truly home. Surrounded by people who loved him for the man he was, never asking him to be anything else. It almost made the anxiety he was feeling at that moment fade into a distant memory. Almost.

The moment was interrupted all too quickly by an intense coughing fit coming from the upper level of the house. Everyone silenced immediately as Gilberts heart fell into his stomach. “How is she?” He whispered.

Marilla shot a glance to Bash, who nodded in silent understanding. “Hey sweet girl, why don’t you go show me what you and Miss Marilla were workin’ on in the kitchen, eh?” Dellie quickly whipped her head back and forth, pointing over to her Uncle.

“Don’t worry Del, I’m not leaving,” Gilbert took his bag in his hand and pointed upstairs. “I just need to go check on Auntie Anne, alright?” Dellie contemplated his response for a brief moment before accepting it and pointed to the kitchen. 

“Go Papa!” Bash obliged, flying her into the kitchen as if she were a bird, letting the door slam behind them. Marilla’s eyes met Gilbert’s, so much fear sat behind them that it sent a chill down his spine. 

“This was in her coat pocket when Bash brought her home.” She slid her hand into her apron pocket and pulled out a handkerchief with tiny purple and pink flowers embroidered along the edges. Something so intricate could only belong to one person. She gestured it towards him, which he swiftly began to unfold to reveal a crimson spot in the center. Before he could stop himself, he inhaled sharply. Marilla, trying to remain strong, let a single tear roll down her cheek. “Does she have it? Does she have what the Gillis girl had?”

“I need to see her,” his voice cracking as he put the handkerchief into his coat pocket. Marilla nodded as they made their way up and through the door.

----- ----

Gilbert rapped his knuckles against the door at the end of the upstairs hallway. “Come in,” a weak voice called from within the room. 

Taking a deep breath, Gilbert pushed gently against the door, eyes immediately shooting towards the bed. Much to his surprise, it was empty and panic began to set it. Quickly, he scanned the room, searching for the person he desired to see. He found her sitting near her window, wrapped in a thick quilt, staring out to the setting sun.

“I know that I need to stay in bed Marilla, but,” Anne let out a series of chesty cough that shook her entire body. Perfect flaming curls bounced against her back with each one. Gilberts stood silently, unable to find words for what he was feeling. “Sorry,” she whispered once the coughing had ceased. “But you know how I feel about sunsets.”

“I do,” he answered, somehow preventing his voice from cracking. Anne stiffened in her chair, holding her breath. Slowly, she rotated so that she was facing Gilbert head on. “Long time no see Carrots.

[thecleverdame]

Control and Release - 10

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: With the rest of the staff caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification,  mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, dub-con, nipple clamps, breath play (more warnings as the story continues)  

Words: 3.5k

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Parts Eleven and Twelve are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

You sleep until well past noon and when you do wake up it's to your phone vibrating. You smile, face pressed into the pillow and pick it up expecting a message from Sam but instead it’s Max’s name is scrawled across the screen.

Max: I’m sorry about the other night

Max: Give me a chance to make it up to you when you get back

You sigh, putting the phone down and rolling onto your back, staring at the ceiling. The room is still and quiet, there aren’t the busy city noises that you normally hear in your own apartment. As you lie there you think about last night, the way Sam made you feel. Until he came along you would have never considered yourself to be submissive in any sense of the word. Quiet sure, but definitely strong-willed and hard-headed. He’s woken a sleeping giant, a need inside you that’s been aroused and there’s no putting it back to sleep.

Making good on your commitment, you throw back the covers and look down at your naked body, still sleep warm as your nipples harden instantly in the cool air. They’re still sore, throbbing gently the harder they get, a nice reminder of what you went through in the name of pleasure and the lengths you would go to if asked.

One hand slides over your belly and between your legs as you begin to make gentle circles around your clit. Your body responds in an instant, as if all of yesterday's teasing was just waiting for you pick back up. Your pussy clenches, legs clamping closed for a moment as you moan gently and suck in a deep breath.

You glance at the phone, reminded that several times he’s taken photos of you in compromising positions. You’ve never seen them, but you suspect he’s keeping them for when you're not together. It’s a thought that gets you even more excited.

Picking up your phone you open the text thread with Keith Campbell and type.

Y/N: I’m completing my morning task

Y/N: Would you like a picture?

The moment you hit send you’re second-guessing the boldness of this interaction. He likes to give the orders and perhaps it’s too presumptuous to think he’s concerned about you masturbating in his behalf while he’s making one the biggest deals of his professional career.

It’s only a few minutes later that the phone vibrates again. You take a breath and look at the response, half expecting him to chastise you.

Keith Campbell: Yes.

Keith Campbell: Make sure I can see your face and your pussy.

You can’t help but giggle, sorting the logistics of how to fulfill this request. You prop the phone up against the television and sit on the bed with your legs spread, testing the set up before setting the timer and taking nearly a dozen photos of you touching yourself.

The best one looks the most natural, your lips are slightly parted, eyes half shut as you rub your clit. You send it to him and then lie back and finish the task at hand, touching your pussy until you’re right at the edge, sweating and desperate for an orgasm before you stop.

There’s no response, so you get up and dig into your suitcase for a pair of leggings and a sports bra. The hotel has a world class gym and you might as well take advantage while you have the chance.

You’re about to leave the room when he responds.

Keith Campbell: Perfect

Keith Campbell: That wet little pussy is going to be put to good use later

Keith Campbell: I won’t be free until the evening.

Keith Campbell: Come to my room at 9:30. No undergarments.

You stare at the phone trying to think of a smart response and then confirm.

Y/N: Yes, Mr. Campbell

-

Your excitement is palpable, almost shaking as you approach his room. This feels like the next step. After tonight things will be different, exactly how you’re not sure, but it’s inevitable.

One knock and the door swings open as if he’s been waiting for you. He looks different than you’re used to seeing him. His hair is wet and he’s barefoot in jeans and a plain white undershirt as he steps aside for you to join him.

While you know full well he doesn’t dress in a suit during his personal time, it’s still a shock. He almost looks like a normal person.

“Am I early?” you ask, knowing full well you waited outside his hotel room, watching your phone until 9:30 blinked back at you.

“No.” He looks you over then closing the door. “I’m running late. Our dinner went over and I always have pent up energy after I close a deal. I went to the gym.”

“On time is late,” you parrot his favorite saying, eyes going wide once you realize what you’ve done.

“Indeed.” He smiles, and you’re thankful he’s amused. “You’re the one who was on time and ready to go. You deserve a reward.”

“It went well then?” you inquire, turning to look at him, trying desperately to act like it’s not killing you to make small talk instead of dropping to your knees and offering to suck him off.

“Very well.” He looks at you, eyes shining. “This partnership could take us to the next level. But it’s more money, more responsibility. There’s always give and take.”

He’s silent as you stare at each other, his eyes boring holes into you.

“What did you do with your day?” The question takes you off guard, and you can’t help but grin.  

“I went to the gym, then went out into the city to explore. My phone died and I got lost. I was hoping I’d be able to see the Yoyoi Kusama exhibit but by the time I got there it was too late.”

“The mirrors exhibit?” he asks, stepping closer. “Its coming to Boston isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but only for two weeks and it was sold out before I could get tickets.” You swallow as he gets closer, bare feet padding over the carpet.

“And you completed both tasks I gave you?” Sam shifts the tone of the room with a single question and your cheeks turn red.

“Yes,” you confirm, setting your purse on a small table by the wall. “The first time in my room. The second in the dressing room at Nordstrom. I would have sent you another picture but I was having enough trouble staying quiet.”

“Good.” He steps forward, reaching out to slide a hand along your jaw, his thumb pulling down your lower lip to expose your teeth. He’s done this before and it never fails to make you feel like a prize racehorse up for inspection. “Take your clothes off.”

He wanders over to the couch, taking a seat, watching you disrobe, head tilting as he appraises your breasts, then your stomach and lower.

“How are you feeling after last night?”

“Fine.” You’re completely nude, standing in the middle of the room. “My nipples are sore. It was hard to wear a bra, they’re still a little raw.”

“Do you enjoy that?” He leans back, finger tapping over his knee in thought. “Feeling the after effects the next day?”

“I do. It makes me re-play the things you do to me over and over in my head. I get to relive them all over again,” you confess, watching his throat bob.

“This evening I’m going to start with a spanking,” he explains calmly, patting his thigh. “Come lay here.”

Excitement hums in your veins as you walk to the couch. You look at him, up close and personal as you crawl over his lap and settle down with your ass over his lap. He wedges his hand between your thighs and you spread yourself open as best you can, feeling his finger swipe over your pussy, thumb checking to see how wet you are before he starts.

“How many do you want?” he asks, rubbing an open palm over your butt cheek.

“I-” you hesitate, unsure if this is a test or a genuine question so you throw out the first number that pops into your head. “Twenty.”

“Twenty?” There’s faint surprise in his voice. “I expect you to count out loud.”

And with that his open palm comes down on your ass so hard you shout in surprise, lurching forward.

Crack. Crack.

Two more follow in rapid succession, nasty slaps that makes your skin sting hot as he rubs his hand over the sore flesh.

“Three,” you wheeze, already breathless as your eyes start to water.

“Stay still,” he corrects as you squirm in his lap, reaching down and holding your upper thigh. “I’ll tie you up if I have to.”

“I’m sorry,” you counter, tensing your muscles.

“Don’t be sorry, do better.” This correction is followed by nearly a dozen hard fast spanks that leave you whimpering into the couch cushion. Both legs are shaking, trembling as you fight through the pain to stay still.

“It hurts,” you sputter, voice ratcheting up an octave.  

“It’s supposed to hurt,” he quips, his hand snaking toward your cunt. “Is it too much?”

“Almost...maybe,” you confess, fingers curling into the fabric of the sofa.

His thumb finds your clit and your eyes roll back into your skull. He rubs you gently, a press over your bud while his other hand massages your ass. You were so concentrated on the pain that you didn’t realize how wet you were, but you can feel it now. The ache between your legs growing as he touches you.

“Better?” He lets up, waiting for your go ahead.

“Yes. Please finish.”

He grunts, shifting under you and you feel his cock straining against his jeans, pressing into your stomach.

He gives you five more solid whacks on your behind and a sixth for good measure, leaving you shaking like a leaf as he sits you up, wiping the corners of your eyes.

“Can I suck your cock?” you ask, the request falling out before you even think about. He gets you so worked up your brain seems to short circuit.

A grin crosses his mouth, as he palms the crotch of his pants.

“Get on your knees,” he instructs. You slink off his lap and onto the carpet as he frees his cock. “Take it all the first time, nice and slow.”

You look up at him, gulping and then slowly swallowing the head of his dick as both hands thread into your hair. It’s a challenge; you normally work up to this, but you don’t stop until he’s lodged in your throat, and you're drooling around the base of his cock.

“Look at me.” The hands on your hair tighten and you look up, only to find him watching you with his mouth open. “I can see the outline of my cock in your throat, you’re taking me so deep. Just hold it...right there.”

You try to concentrate on suppressing your gag reflex, eyes watering as you groan around his dick. His eyes flutter shut in response.

He tugs on your hair, pulling you off his cock as you gasp for air, spit hanging from your chin.

“Suck,” he commands and you take the head back into your mouth, moaning, feeling your pussy throb between your legs. You lick and suck and stroke him until he’s painfully hard, the swollen crown catching with each pass of your lips.

“That’s enough.” He takes you by the hair again, twisting until there’s a pull at your scalp and you both stand as he pulls you to your feet. “Bend over the bed, spread your legs.”

He guides you to the mattress with a fist full of hair, only releasing so that you can lay belly down across the duvet. Opening your thighs you shiver in excitement.

“Hands over your head.” His instruction is calm and even as you feel him between your thighs, one hand on each leg directly below your butt cheeks.

Reaching up you spread your fingers wide, palms down and wait for what’s to come.

“Beg me for it,” he grits, one hand pressing down on your lower back, the other wrapped around his cock as he drags the head through your folds.

“Please fuck me,” you whine, trying to buck backward. “Please, I want your cock in my pussy. I need it, need to feel you inside me.”

“Your wet little cunt needs this?” He dips the head inside, then pulls back out, rubbing the tip over your clit as you cry out. “How bad?”

“So bad.” You’re utterly desperate now, fingers curling into the bedspread. “I’ll do anything you want. I’ll let you fuck me any way you want to, just please fuck me like this right now. I can’t take it.”

“You feel that ache inside you?” he asks, pressing the head between your lips once again. “Have you ever felt that before?”

“No,” you wheeze, turning your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut. “Never, it hurts, I need you to fuck me. Please, Sam, please.”

He’s quiet and still for a moment and then presses forward, stretching your cunt open as he slides inside in one long thrust. A strained, low mewl escapes your throat, mouth gaping open as he bottoms out and his balls rock into your clit.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hands gripping the meat of each butt cheek. “You’re tight.”

You can’t speak, just whimper as he pulls out and shoves himself back in with a groan. After the maiden thrust, he quickly finds a rhythm, stroking tip to root with each pass. You’ve never felt so full or so stretched, he’s just this side of being too big as you fight to relax.

Sam fills you again and again as you writhe and squirm, desperate to take as much of him as possible. He moves closer, thighs against the edge of the bed and the angle changes, the head of his cock hitting just right deep inside and your clit rubbing the sheets. The pleasure builds fast as you begin to shake unable to control yourself.

“Can I cum?” you beg, unsure of what you’ll do if he says no because this is completely out of your control.

“Of course,” he responds as if you’re asking the silliest question he’s ever heard. “Cum on my cock, let me feel it.”

His permission allows you to relax and enjoy the pleasure, but for only for a moment before you wind up and explode. Your pussy tightens around his thick shaft, desperate pulses, sucking and clutching him deeper as you call out, pressing your face into the bedding with a muffled scream.

Your entire body winds up, goes tight and releases in a flood of relief and ecstasy that’s better than any orgasm you’ve ever had before. Sam doesn’t stop, he just slows down, fucking you through it, rocking steadily until you’re twitching and boneless.

You lay there, limp, wilted on the bed as he takes you by the hips and fucks you with everything he’s got.

“Don’t tell me you’re done already?” He chuckles, breathless as he thrusts into your cunt, the wet smack of your bodies only made louder by the sheen of sweat covering both of you.

“I think you broke me,” you mutter, cheek pressed against the bed.

“You can do better than that.” He slows for a moment, pressing all his weight over you with his cock deep inside.  His hand snakes around your hip and under your belly, middle finger finding your clit.

You jerk the moment he touches you, but there’s nothing you can do to get away, the combined weight of both your bodies keeps his arm pinned in place. You squirm as he rubs lightly over the sensitive bud.

“I can’t-” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut and burying your head face-first into the bed. “I need a break, please.”

“No breaks.” He swats your ass with his free hand and then begins to fuck you again, all while making torturous circles around your clit.

“Sam!” His name comes out a plea, low and long as you squirm underneath him. He’s grinding deep, holding himself inside you with each stroke, before doing it all over again. “Please, please, it’s too much, I can’t cum again.”

“Yes, you can.” He leans down, pressing the side of his face to your temple. “Concentrate on how it feels where I touch, how my cock feels inside you. Breathe slow and steady, stop thinking and just feel.”

Your mouth opens wide, eyes still closed in concentration as you take a deep breath and focus on his finger, slowly moving over your clit. Every other stroke he uses two fingers, pressing on either side and then back to direct contact. He repeats this pattern a dozen times and you’re finally able to come down from your previous high, as he coaxes you toward a new growing pleasure.

His cock is unrelenting, slow even strokes that force you to open up and take all of him in your pussy with every move of his hips.

The pleasure builds on itself, each stroke, every touch bringing you closer and closer to some new finish line. It’s not desperate like the first orgasm, that was fast and explosive from days of teasing and anticipation. This is something deeper, a building thrill that starts between your legs and fans out in all directions.

When you cum the second time there’s no warming. The gradual build stops, then bubbles over as the muscles of your stomach go taught, legs stiffening, neck arching backward. For a moment you can't breathe, whole body clenching in silent satisfaction, twitching and contracting. The next breath is a desperate sob, pleasure still coursing through you. You howl in desperation, momentarily on another planet. Your mind goes blank, there’s no Sam or job or contract, just the feeling of him filling you and ultimate gratification as you jerk in one final release and go slack.

“Good girl,” he whispers, the warmth of his chest pressing over your back.

He thrusts half a dozen times and holds himself balls deep in your cunt, grunting as he cums, shooting warm and thick in your overworked pussy.  

“Fuck.” He places a hand on your lower back and pulls out. One hand slaps your thighs further apart. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you're aware that he's appraising the mess he’s made between your legs, watching his spunk drip out of your cunt.

He’s quiet for a moment and then you feel him flop onto the bed next to you. It’s the better part of ten minutes before you finally open your eyes, turning your head to look at him. He’s watching you as you blink, trying to free your brain from the fog of it all. You’re still pleasure-soaked and dizzy, floating on a high that shouldn’t even exist.

“How do you feel?” he asks, reaching over to push sweat-soaked hair away from your face. The pads of his fingers trail over your temple, then upward sweeping across your forehead.

“Like you drugged me.” You smile wide, looking at his pink cheeks.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone cum that hard before.” His voice is soft, and there’s that look again. “You’re beautiful when you cum, it’s like watching someone die and come back to life.”

“That’s sort of what it felt like.” You lie there, watching each other in silence for a long time. His fingers trailing along your hairline, gently stroking across skin, threading into your hair and across your scalp as you practically hum in contentment.

Eventually, his hand falls away, sitting up with a groan. “I’m going to take a shower. You can join me if you want to.”

“Would you prefer I leave now?” you ask, trying to gauge exactly what he wants from this as you roll over and prop yourself up. You appreciate his attention to your request of more thorough aftercare but you also don’t want him to placate you beyond what you need. This is a contractual arrangement after all.

“You can go if you’d like to,” he offers, turning back to face you stark naked in the doorway. “Or you can take a shower and sleep here, with me.”

You try to read his face, but he’s gone stealth again, mouth an even line, eyes staring right through you. You’re about to question this proposition when he beats you to the chase.

“Don’t think for one second that I would offer something that I don’t want or enjoy. I have no desire to bend to anyone else’s needs. If I wanted you to leave, I would tell you to leave. But I’m asking you to stay.”

And with that, he disappears into the bathroom, the shower turns on and you’re left wordless in his bed.

-

Parts Eleven and Twelve are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

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[kittensjonsa]

Otherwise, Engaged

The Proposal AU

Summary: Sansa has to get through a tough weekend. Her boss, weekend with the family and saving her job. Oh, right, and a fake engagement too.

---

Sansa could feel her heart thumping in sync with the throbbing in her temples. Five more minutes.. just five more minutes please.

He was always early and almost everday he would step in just three minutes shy of nine o' clock in the morning. And here she was internally screaming at the line at Starbucks, moving at a glacial pace.

“Okay thanks!” Sansa hollered at the ruddy boy, the same one whom she greeted every morning when she stopped by to get her cuppas. Lucky for her, he knew exactly what her order was and all she needed to do was swipe her credit card. He was her life saver. Scrambling into a cab, she prayed, at least she'd get there a minute before her boss.

Sansa knew she should have stopped at one chapter but a wave of inspiration came over and one chapter became three - and the next thing she knew she jumped, awakened by the loud metal clang of her stationery holder that must have toppled onto the floor in the midst of her slumber.

“Oh shit! Hold please!” Sansa sighed in relief and mumbled her thanks as she rushed into the lift. She could still make in time.

8.56 am. Whew.

But of course like most of her days, it all turned to shit in a split second.

“Son of a! Nooo!” a warm sensation pooled at her chest, one of the coffee cups had smashed onto her black dress as the mail boy she raced into frantically picked up the envelopes strewn all over the floor.

“Arrghhh!” Sansa screeched and glared at him as she stomped to her desk. Angrily, she punched her computer start button. Nothing ever goes right. Nothing. 8.57 am.

“This will have to do. Jeyne will have to do without this shirt for one more day,” Sansa mumbled to herself, ripping open the plastic that covered a dry-cleaned white silk shirt she could wear over her dress. She meant to return it to Jeyne that morning but well, this was an emergency. The stain wasn't noticeable at all but Sansa was too self-conscious to ignore it.

Tying up the hems into somewhat of a cropped top over her v-neck black dress now stained and smelling of triple shot espresso, Sansa figured it looked professional enough for any meetings today. She just had to pull it off for the next ten hours or so.

“Good morn- hey is that my top?” Jeyne chuckled at Sansa's makeshift style statement.

“A teeny accident but I swear I will return this to you tonight if I have to okay. I am so sorry,” Sansa pouted, hoping her one and only friend at work would just let it go and leave it, seeing how the day was turning out to be.

“No biggie Sansa but looks good on you. I should try that some time.”

Oh thank god.

Then, the IM dinged. Two words flashed on her computer screen.

“IT'S HERE!”

Sansa looked around and watched everyone scramble back into their cubicles; no more giggling by the water dispenser, no longer was there laughing by the coffee machine just heard seconds ago. Everyone was just trying to avoid getting stuck in any common areas, any walkways that meant they had to come face to face with the boss.

Her boss, that is. Jon Snow.

How unfortunate was she to have a boss everyone loathed. Satan, she dubbed him once. Well she had many names for him, recounting many tales of her frustrations at work during her many calls to her family and it became a term of endearment almost. She could probably write a best seller one day alá Devil Wears Prada - with film rights and everything. But for now, it's ten hours a day, weekends at the office and crowded book fairs.

A figure in black went past her. His head of jet black curls was unmistakable. He was a male Medusa; never look him in the eye unless you want to be turned to ash, metaphorically speaking. The rumours that went around were ridiculously vicious albeit amusing.

“Good morning, Mr Snow. As always, here's your c-”

“Sansa, get George on the line. I just scored him an interview on Oprah and I'm gonna need to talk to him. Also, after that get Aliser a meeting with me because that dick is gonna get it from me today,” her boss strutted into his office, as if he owned the building, without as much as greeting her since his eyes were too glued to the email he was furiously typing on his phone.

“Coffee.” Sansa mumbled and cleared her throat as she waited for him to grab the takeaway cup from her outstretched hand. Like clockwork, he did, still ignoring her like as always, every morning. Sansa had gotten used to it.

Jon Snow settled into his chair and immediately turned on his computer, his phone now tossed aside now that there were more important things to start off with.

Yep, good morning to you too Satan.

“Well, so we have a staff meeting at 10, a conference call with the Westerlands office at 11 and you have an appointment at the Immigration office at 1. So should I cancel your lunch and push it back to 2 pm?”

Jon swivelled from the screen and looked at her. His brows were furrowed and to Sansa that was never a good thing. Three years with this man, this slave driver, she knew everything there was to know about him, his likes, dislikes, his micro expressions that helped her navigate through this murky depths of hell she called a job - of being the executive assistant of one the most well known and respected former Pulitzer prize winning journalist now turned editor-in-chief of Mormont & Sons Publishing. Good things don't come easy, she would tell herself that every day, through the late night coffee and dinner runs, the book fairs and the weekends in the office.

“Immigration? What? No, cancel that. I filled out those papers already. You sent them out, didn't you?”

Sansa nodded. Of course she did, she also collected his dry cleaning, his groceries and the expensive watch he had serviced, which took her an hour and half to get to the other side of the city because they were the only ones Jon trusted enough to do.

“Right, so back on with the lunch meeting then.” Sansa inched her way to the door as Jon turned back around to his computer.

“Sansa?”

Ugh.

“Who's Rick and why does he think I'm hot? Why does he have his Tinder handle here?”

What?

“Umm.. I have no idea who that is.” Sansa froze at her spot.

Jon took a sip of his coffee, his stern face visibly amused by the awful scribble on the white coffee cup. “Triple espresso shot, no sugar. Hmm.”

“Well, I'm guessing that should be my coffee that was meant for me,” Sansa finally admitted.

Jon pursed his lips as he stared at her. “So, you're telling me that you too, drink triple espresso shot with no sugar?”

Sansa shrugged. “It grows on you.. I guess.”

“I thought you drank tea.”

“Well... variety, right?”

Jon's eyes were still on her, unamused. “You spilled my coffee didn't you?”

Sansa sighed. This day was no better than any other. If only she could catch a break.

Jon pointed to his own jacket and then to her. Sansa looked down and saw a small spot of dark brown on her makeshift cropped jacket, the pristine, shiny and well pressed silk blouse. Damn it.

“Good save on the shirt.”

Umm.. thanks?

“If... there's nothing else, you know where I'll be,” Sansa pointed to her desk outside as she slowly made her exit.

Then, the phone rang.

“Mr Snow's office,” Sansa answered dutifully. “It's Mr Thorne. Do you want to take it?”

Jon thought for a moment, then gestured to a general direction - it could only mean he wanted a one on one.

“Mr Thorne, Mr Snow is on his way to you right now.”

Jon stood up and tossed a notepad to Sansa. “You're coming with me, I need a witness.”

A witness? For what?

Murder?

“Oh you self righteous son of bitch!” the bellow shook her and Sansa almost dropped her notepad.

“You think you can waltz right in here with your big head and big ass editor ego and tell me what to do? I don't think so!” Aliser yelled at him, ripping the glasses from his face.

Shit. Don't punch each other. Please.

“Oh Thorne, you really are a thorn in my ass. Actually everyone's ass. You're just a lazy, entitled braggart who can't do the job right.”

Aliser only scoffed. “So you think your hot shot award is going to get you places huh? Throw your weight around like you own this shit?

“We told you many times, get George on board, get George on board, sign him and write a couple of books. But guess who did that instead? Me. I always have to finish your job for you because you can't do it ever.”

Aliser turned silent but his face was red with rage. Sansa couldn't blame him. He was being fired.

“Look, you have two months to look for another gig. I won't make you sign a non-compete and I'll tell everyone you resigned. I'll make sure Finance settles a leaving bonus for you. For all your years of service. How about that, huh?” Jon coolly offered in an effort to diffuse the rapidly growing tension in the air. Sansa gulped. Please take it, I want to get out of this room.

“You're going to regret this Jon Snow,” Aliser warned. Jon only shrugged and made his way to the door. Sansa quickly followed behind him and only managed a polite smile to Aliser.

“You got all that down didn't you? About the non compete and everything?” Jon asked as they made their way back to his office.

“Make a note to HR and let them get on it. And tell them I'm scouting for new editors. Which means I need you this weekend.”

Sansa's heart sank at the thought. No not this weekend. It's Gramp's 80th.

“Sansa? Did you hear what I just said?”

Sansa cursed under her breath and turned her attention back to Jon as they both stood in front of his office.

“Yes.. yes of course. Got it all down. But this weekend-”

“Why? Do you have plans?” Jon's tone was enough to warrant a slap from her.

“It's my grandfather's birthday weekend and I already told them I'll be there.”

Jon looked at her unblinking. “Well, tell them you'll come for the next one. I mean, if you want to keep your job that is. You do know birthdays happen every year, right?”

Sansa hated every time he brought that up. If it wasn't the book fairs it would be overtime at the office. When does it end?

Sansa bit her lip; there was no point arguing. “All right. I'll call them later.”

Jon winked and gave a token smile. “That's the spirit.”

Defeated, Sansa inhaled deeply, picking up the phone on her desk, hoping no one would be home pick up the call.

Sansa Stark, Editor. Sansa Stark, Editor. Sansa Stark, Editor.

It was the only thing in her mind that could help pull her through whatever life had in store for her that day.

“Hey Sansa, Mr Mormont wants to see Mr Snow right away. He says it's urgent,” Jeyne's voice broke her out her reverie.

Great, another one.