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kedsandtubesocks · 10 months ago

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game changer

MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: back from your first semester of grad school your parents lovingly drag you out to celebrate with an old family friend - but what unfolds there (and after) cracks you wide open

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, dad’s friend!Joel, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is in his early 50’s), light use of gendered language, yearning & flirting, some light angst, brief alcohol consumption, masturbation (f), smutty thoughts, heavy makeout, spicy themes, allusions to smut (p in v), Joel’s dirty talk, one use of “good girl,” one light ass smack, reserved but soft!Joel, start of secret relationship, lots of baseball talk

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: i know, i know another non-typical AU for Joel but I blame my sports girlie heart & baseball season so here we are lol big thank you to @swiftispunk for always putting up with my sports ramblings LMAO im so sorry Han ily, special thanks to @burntheedges @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @msjarvis because this truly wouldn’t be here without y’all - you don’t know how much you babes mean to me & I can’t thank y’all enough…now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You barely have any solid memories of Joel Miller, even if he was your dad’s oldest friend. And if you were being honest, you remember his brother Tommy more who smiled so warmly and seemed to radiate warmth.

Now you stand before Joel Miller’s face on the side of the Globe Life field along with the rest of the Texas Rangers professional baseball team.

It’s a cool evening in Arlington. Everyone seems to bask in the weather that feels perfect for a night of baseball.

Home from your first grad school semester, you didn’t think you’d be going to a game. But your parents explained how good the tickets were, and that even if you didn’t care about the game, you could just enjoy the stadium. So with the promise of free food and a nice night out, you were sold.

Now you’re here.

“Yesterday Joel said to head to the side entrance, that’s where we can check in.” Your dad eagerly explains and stunned you simply follow along like a confused duckling.

The sea of jerseys sweeps you into a sports wave until you’re deposited in a new space. Your jaw almost drops.

The VIP suites sit at the very side edge of the field, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.

The seats are incredible. Everything feels deluxe but comfortable. Someone calls out to your mom, and soon enough the rest of the Miller family approaches.

Tommy’s married now and his wife Maria is lovely, so is their baby. Joel’s daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are older. Time sucker punches you in the gut seeing how much time has passed, but you warmly greet everyone. You realize how long it really has been since you saw any of them.

You greet everyone warmly and appreciate all their surprised welcome seeing you back.

“Joel’s glad y’all were finally able to make it. Been talking about it since yesterday.” Tommy explains.

“Yeah us too! Just worked out that we all could come out and enjoy this with someone back home now.” You mom teases, but it’s warm.

Even though you were cities away, the new workload just kept you so busy.

You’re grateful to be here too. Even though your mind still swirls trying to grasp all of this.

You knew your dad’s friend made it big as a professional baseball player. Joel and his family left Austin to move to Arlington after he signed for the Rangers. So you rarely saw them. But with your mom’s job recently relocating here, your dad talked non stop about maybe seeing more of the games. It never really clicked that your family knew a professional sports athlete. Plus you never cared too much for sports to even look more into it.

Now as the game starts with a wild explosive and electric opening, you feel like you’ve slipped into another reality.

Then Joel’s entrance arrives, and your heart jumps out of your chest. The stadium erupts in a wild frenzy. The music for his arrival is western themed, grand and epic.

“All of this is because the league calls him Cowboy Miller.” Your dad explains.

The nickname was given to him not just because of his very southern twang, but Joel’s cold demeanor on the mound along with his wild style of pitching. All this led to him being deemed a Cowboy.

You understand why.

A serious air of power radiates from Joel while he approaches the mound.

Wearing a jersey with the number two on it, he’s older, more distinguished than the last time you remember him. Grays pepper his beard and the shadow of his baseball cap highlights the wrinkles flowing across his face.

He’s handsome, utterly gorgeous. His shoulders look broad, pure striking mountains, in his white jersey.

It’s like your mind finally registers and settles into the reality he’s a man, a full grown and incredible man.

And he really is incredible.

Even though he’s older for a pitcher, he still possesses dazzling talent. You even clap loudly when he strikes one of the batters out.

Your eyes never leave him. Joel sternly staring down the batter is terrifying. His legs look strong as he whips the ball fast to the home plate. Your eyes can’t help but flicker to his ass when he walks back to the dugout.

He’s gorgeous.

But cold reality crashes into you when your dad brightly yells. Joel is your dad’s friend, and that thought sours the bubbling feelings in your chest.

So you try focusing on the game, which actually turns out to be rather fun. The vibe of the stadium, along with the atmosphere of the game itself, is easy to melt into.

At one point someone gets a hit off Joel and he has to run to cover first. He’s surprisingly fast. Seeing him catch the ball, get the out, is so impressive and hot as fuck.

After that the Rangers switch pitchers.

As he leaves the mound, the stadium cheers at Joel’s exit. Very politely he nods, raising his hand in a quick goodbye to everyone. Then he scans the crowd.

It’s admirable seeing how he instantly finds where his family is. Joel’s roughed face melts soft with a small crooked grin hearing the applause they give him. He even spots your dad proudly cheering.

Joel’s eyes then lock with yours. Still walking towards the dugout, his face stays on you while his focus narrows in a cloudy confusion like he’s trying to recognize you.

Then his eyes go wide as realization sinks in.

You weakly grin back. It’s all you can do before Joel is fully gone from your line sight. Your heart thumps erratically within its cage.

The Rangers unfortunately lose by three. Once the game ends, you decide to swing by the merch store.

“Guess the game made you a fan huh?” You mom perks up noticing you eyeing the jerseys.

You shrug easily with an eased grin.

After this the Rangers have a five game stretch at home.

You only know because after the game you check for all things about the team, about Joel. You haven’t brought yourself to look at any videos of Joel yet. But you did discover from the team's instagram that he has one too.

Early the next morning, still lounging in bed, you scroll through Joel’s instagram page. It seems very professional, like it’s run by a social media manager primarily using it to promote Joel without being too personal.

You’re not paying attention, still a bit too focused on your phone, when a knock comes at the door.

Your face scrunches up confused. Then terror sucker punches you when you see who’s at the door.

No way.

Opening the door Joel stares at you, but this time wearing striking thick black rimmed glasses. They make him incredibly distinguished. Instead of seeming like a professional baseball player you’re reminded of a studious professor. And without a baseball cap on, you’re given sight of his soft glorious curls and the light gray streaks dancing among them.

He’s knockout beautiful.

Of course, you’re still in your mismatched lounge clothes and barely look like you’ve left bed.

He says your name, greeting you with a curt nod. You swiftly greet him with an awkward hello.

“Are you going for like a Clark Kent thing?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

Joel’s face scrunches up as he sighs.

“Gotta take a break from my contacts s’all.” He admits with a grumpy reply.

But it’s his thick twang, the familiar southern accent - that sweeps you breathless.

“How do they even let you pitch?” You lightly tease, and

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Good to see ya too.” He rumbles, finally greeting you.

Now realizing he’s still standing in your doorway, you let him in.

Joel explains how he wanted to come by, visit your folks, catch up, and thank them for getting to stop by.

You’re the one early thanking him.

“The tickets were incredible. And you did amazing the other night.” You add sincerely.

“Oh, yeah thanks. Glad we won.” Joel nods.

“So they let you just roam around?” You ask slightly stunned still seeing him here in your family kitchen.

Joel scoffs. “Ain’t gotta be at the stadium till later.”

“So, was uh…surprised to see ya at the game.” His tone now reeks of trying to just make small talk.

Weakly you grin back explaining it was a nice change from your days on campus.

“So…back from school, huh.” That awkward thick small talk tone of his gets worse especially as he asks how’s it going and what you’re doing.

For being a talented professional pitcher, right now he simply seems like just some guy…

Just your dad’s pal.

The thought brings a strange acidic taste in your mouth.

You explain school is going good and how you’re here just visiting until the next semester starts up again.

Politely he asks what you’re going to school for. You tell him about your program, explaining all the classes you’re taking and even about the undergrad classes you help TA for.

Joel nods, quiet. You wonder if this sounds boring to a man who professionally plays baseball everyday.

“You’re damn smart.” He then whistles low, and his compliment jumpstarts your heart.

“Haven’t read a book since… shit can’t even remember when.” Joel muses.

“What? They don’t have you take baseball quizzes for pitching?” You joke, but it falls flat. Joel just gives you a dull look.

However his lips twitch faintly, like he’s fighting a grin, and it makes you grin.

“Though, I’ve heard you could maybe work on your slider pitch.” You add.

From the clips you’ve seen and the comments you’ve read, that's the one thing others have commented on, along with how unbearably handsome he is. ESPN even named him one of sports top most eligible bachelors.

“Oh?” Joel’s eyebrows rise up fast. Crossing his hands over his chest, Joel turns towards you more.

“Suddenly you’re a sports analyst now, huh?” The way his voice perks up confidently, matching your edge of playfulness, causes something to get stuck in your throat.

“Y’gonna start telling me how to pitch too? Just like your old man used to.” Joel adds still with that same tone and even chuckles.

But his words slice through you. Swallowing hard, you steel yourself tight.

Thankfully the sound of the front door unlocking arrives. Your parents are home.

“You’re fantastic, Joel. Glad I got to see it live.” You tell him earnestly looking him straight in the eye, as if to stare him down and remind him unwavering you’re a grown adult. Even if you’re in lounge shorts and holey t-shirt, you try holding your head high with as much grace as you can.

With that you head to tell your parents Joel is here then quietly slip back to your room.

Eventually your mom knocks on your door and pops her head in.

“There’s another game tonight. Wanna go?” She offers.

You decline, explaining you want to rest and catch up with a few shows you’ve been neglecting. Thankfully neither of your parents pressure you to join them.

With the house to yourself, you now search for as many videos of Joel you can.

Even slowly starting to understand baseball at a base level, you realize Joel ‘Cowboy’ Miller really is spectacular. You hear about his time playing for The University of Texas and how adored he is by his alma mater.

Then heat crawls up your chest when you see clips of him drenched in sweat, heavily breathing, or even licking his lingers to help with the ball grip.

You quickly turn the videos off before you get yourself worked up.

This has to be just a simple infatuated infestation. You simply need to try to shake it off.

The last home game the Rangers play the Minnesota Twins and Joel isn’t pitching. You again decide to sit this game out. You just have to detox yourself of Joel Miller.

Until you’re invited to a dinner cookout at his home. You thought about maybe playing sick, but with how hungry you are, you see this just as an opportunity to get a nice meal.

Your dad casually mentions Joel’s house has a pool, a nice bonus. He just forgot to mention how huge the Miller house would be.

Though gorgeously grand, it’s still surprisingly cozy. In the backyard you spot Joel at the grill and it makes your head spin. The weathered old burnt orange Texas longhorn shirt he wears looks cozy and casual, sits on him beautifully highlighting his shoulders.

You slip into the pool hoping it will cool you off. But your eyes always find Joel who now laughs with your dad.

Joel’s eyes suddenly flicker to yours, catching you staring red handed. Immediately you sink back into the water.

There’s more people here than expected and you feel a bit out of place. After drying off, you decide to head inside for a drink.

The soft Texas evening illuminates the home in a gentle glow. The music from outside floats in a soft hum making the room feel like it’s underwater.

Ellie told you the house was free for you to roam and from the quick tour she gave, you caught a glimpse of something you want to see more.

So letting yourself maybe take another peek, you walk back to the small alcove carved in the wall. It’s honestly a rather quiet achievement exhibition compared to other grand trophy rooms you’ve imagined.

There are honestly more pictures of Sarah and Ellie, along with Tommy and the rest of the Miller clan, decorating the main hallway of the house. All of it suits Joel.

His UT longhorn jersey is framed on the wall. There are a few awards clustered together, a couple of magazine covers where he looks so dashing in his uniform.

But what makes your heart float are the framed drawings of Joel with a baseball on the mound that range from adorable scribbles to a rather good pencil sketch. These had to be Ellie and Sarah’s work.

“If you’re thinkin’ about stealin’ somethin’ maybe go for the jersey. I can always get another one.”

Joel’s drawl trickles out, and you almost jump out of your skin. Turning to the side he walks to where you are. You hate how exposed you feel just being caught in his gaze and also obviously browsing in his home.

“Nah, I was hoping for a World Series ring to steal and sell but.” You shrug playful, knowing now he’s gone to the Series but never won.

Joel makes a low hissing sound like he’s injured.

“Damn, y’hit low.” He chuckles low.

You grin triumphantly.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get a ring someday.” You say simply.

“Sound sure about that.” He replies.

“Cause it’s true.” You nod. “You’re pretty great.”

Even with your limited knowledge of baseball, it’s easy to see how great he is. Joel is incredibly talented, a shining star stitched in accomplishment. Yet you can tell hasn’t let it go to his head. He’s anchored by his loved ones, and it’s admirable. You even tell him that.

“I…thanks.” He stumbles for a moment, deep dark eyes a bit cloudy as he searches your face with his voice thick and rumbled.

“What game has been your favorite?” You suddenly ask, wanting to know more about him.

His eyebrows furrow and his deep eyes glaze over a bit distant, creating a face of thought that looks adorable.

Then he nods with a soft grin remembering.

“One of the first games the girls gotta go to.” He paints a picture of seeing his daughters, sitting with their uncle Tommy, wearing too large adorable Texas Rangers jerseys.

“One of the best games I ever played.” He adds gently.

He really is a rare beauty of a man with a gilded heart of gold.

“And you? Your folks talk about ya nonstop. Tell me about grad school. And none of that simple ‘it’s good’ crap.” The quick playful mimic he does of your voice makes you laugh warm and bright.

So you tell him about your favorite moments from lecture and the fondness you have for simply embracing subjects you love so much.

Joel stares fully focused on you. You swear his eyes twinkle like stars might be sowed right in his deep earth depths.

He opens his mouth, eager to continue the conversation. Until the kitchen comes alive with more people entering inside. The bubble breaks, but electricity still brews under your skin.

The next day the Rangers have a game at Globe Life Field you go.

Even if Joel isn’t pitching, you want to experience this world he loves so much. You’re however surprised to find Joel is starting.

Your dad explains how one of the pitchers planned for today had to rest. So Joel will simply be the opener before the rest of the bullpen steps in.

Your heart doesn’t rage wildly as it did like seeing him the first time. Now you feel almost drawn to Joel. You focus on his stance on the mound, so disciplined and almost hauntingly serious.

The Arizona Diamondbacks batter hits the ball solid. It flies straight at Joel, and fear sinks its fangs into you.

Until with fast reflexes Cowboy Miller catches the ball eased. You and the stadium erupt wild.

The Rangers win one to four. On the high of the game, you head to the jerseys again in the shop.

“You should get one!” Your mom urges.

Your fingers itch, almost begging you to grab the jersey that says Miller on it. But something continues to hold you back.

On the drive back home, you now see all the great reaction clips and memes of the game. There's a particular one of Joel catching the ball that includes a great western music overlay, like he’s a hero in an old cowboy movie.

Feeling brave, you send the reel to his Instagram profile. You even add underneath the message “now you just gotta work on that slider pitch.”

You send it. Think, hell at worst the poor social media manager will see it and not even give it the time or day. He must get so many messages anyway.

When you get home, you see the message has been read.

But also, a new profile has followed you.

JM_8712

The profile also sent you a message.

JM_8712: ain’t nothing wrong with my slider

No way.

This can’t be who you think it is. You message back saying this possibly can’t be the real Joel Miller because he doesn’t seem like the type to even know how to send a gif.

JM_8712: think ur so funny huh

The account sends a simple gif of someone rolling their eyes.

Then another message flies in.

JM_8712: ur dad get those damn nachos he kept bitchin about with Tommy?

It feels like one of Joel’s changeup pitches knocks you out.

Because it’s really him messaging you. When you even go to double check the blank profile just to make sure, it barely follows more than twenty people and you spot Ellie and Sarah’s accounts among those profiles.

Warmth unfolds from your chest, dangerous and electric. This is Joel’s personal private account.

Unknowingly this all kicks off something you never thought would have ever started. You and Joel start talking.

The messages flow between you and him, back and forth, at first just talking about the games. Then, when the Rangers leave to travel, the messaging increases.

Joel sends you pictures of the places he travels, the food he eats, the vacant stadiums he gets to enjoy.

You devour it all with a greedy eagerness. However it dawns on you that you’re sliding down a slope too slippery to stop.

For the rest of the summer you earnestly check your messages on the app.

One evening, on a stormy delayed game against the Dodgers, your messages don’t send through. The weather is getting worse in Los Angeles.

“They’re gonna reschedule the game. Storm’s not letting up.” Your dad comments glumly.

You just hope Joel is alright.

Instagram finally alerts you of a message and your heart jumps.

Joel.

JM_8712: sorry connections shit

Then he simply sends you his phone number.

You wonder if you’re seeing things.

Trying to keep calm you text the number a simple message asking if he’s alright.

When your text alert chimes, it rattles your brain.

Yeah im good thanks

Then another message follows. It’s a photo from the locker, bags packed like he’s ready to leave.

Looks like room service for tonight

It’s Joel. You’re texting Joel right now.

It feels like a step deeper into a current you never want to leave.

Texting seems to shift the energy between you and him, a transmutation you never could have imagined.

You text Joel good morning and he tells you good night. You and him bond over a love of music. He’s got incredible taste while also complimenting yours. You stay up late on game days when pitched and now feel your throat dry up knowing you’re getting to know the man on the mound.

The desire brewing more for Joel mixes with the summer heat and melts the days away. Soon enough summer dwindles away, and your new semester approaches.

The drive back to your apartment is a good couple of hours. Funny enough Joel is also traveling today for a game. Stopping for gas midway, your phone goes off.

You think at first it must be one of your parents.

But instead it’s Joel.

You scramble to answer.

“Hey,” his voice sounds incredibly richer and deep on the phone.

“Y’doin’ alright?” Joel asks hesitant.

That catches you off guard.

“Oh yeah, just finished putting in gas actually. Why, what’s up?” You relax more into the conversation now curious to why he called asking that.

Joel sighs.

“Sorry I just…your last text uh, it just got me worried.”

Now you’re really curious about what you texted him. It had been half an incomplete response you sent. Even from your side it seemed abrupted and strange.

Sighing, you apologize that you didn’t even realize you had done that. In the rush of wanting to get out on the road you must have just sent the text.

But it suddenly hits you. Joel called because he was worried. That thought rips into you with a ferocious rawness.

“Okay yeah,” Joel says a bit clumsily. “I’ll…let you go.”

“No, it’s okay.” You quickly reassure him. “How’s the traveling going?”

“Good, just finished rewatching one of the inflight movies.”

“Please tell me it was Field of Dreams.” You tease him with the iconic baseball film as you head back on the road. Just now with Joel on the phone.

On speaker, Joel scoffs echoing in your car all around you. You realize this might be a bad decision trying to stay focused driving while also talking to him.

“Funny.” His thick drawl is dry but so softly teasing just below the surface.

“Was some new movie Sarah told me to watch but…fell asleep.” Joel admits low.

Thinking of him asleep on the plane clutches at something warm and deep in you.

Yes you can admit how badly you want Joel, how you picture what his calloused fingers would feel like on you, in you. But you also are finding yourself aching for more now…

Like falling asleep beside him while watching a movie, or sharing a meal with him and teasing him over his dry sense of humor.

It’s dangerous falling deeper like this.

Especially now in a blink you realize you’ve been talking to Joel this entire drive to your apartment.

“Shit sorry.” He realizes it when he sees the time. “Y’should’ve told me to fuck off. Don’t gotta waste your time talkin’ to some old ass like me.”

He rarely comments on his age, and his words sink hard into your gut.

“Trust me… I’m glad I get to talk to you.” You truthfully tell him.

“You’re the one who probably has better things to do than talk to me.” You add slightly dejected. The words even sting your lips.

“Like watching Field of Dreams.” You quickly add some light humor trying to dispel your heartache leaking in.

Joel snorts.

“Definitely would rather chat with you than watch that.” Joel mutters, but his world electrifies your skin.

“I’m flattered knowing I can beat Kevin Costner.” You joke. When he snorts amused, warmth fills you to the brim.

Someone in the distance calls out to Joel, and you know your time with him is limited. It’s confirmed when he sighs.

“Gonna be landing soon. Ya make it to your place okay?” He asks.

“I did, thank you. And thanks for keeping me company on the drive.” You smile to yourself.

“Don’t mention it. Uh, glad you made it back safe.” Joel replies and his words make you melt.

You say his name quick.

“Can you just… Text me when you make it to the hotel?” Just to know he’s safe. It’s simple, but it feels as if the words weigh a ton.

A moment passes.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees.

He doesn’t text you. Instead Joel calls you when he gets to the hotel.

“Saw a full on fuckin’ fight at the airport when we landed.” Joel rambles immediately, and you learn how much of a secret gossip he is. While Joel breaks down all the details of what he saw, you realize he wanted to tell you about this.

A light burst in your chest because you want to tell Joel everything too.

And when your next semester starts, you tell him all you can.

The texting stays but evolves into more frequent phone calls. Joel listens to you with a gruff saint’s patience. He faintly picks up the names of your professors, even the name of your roommate. At one point he even stays on the phone with you when you cook dinner.

Joel calls during the stretch of waiting at the airports, a few times after games. Sometimes he rants about his teammates, sighs about his frustrations when they lose or when he ends up not doing well on the mound.

While every inch in your body still hums for Joel, it’s steady now - like you’re slowly accepting these emotions fully into your bloodstream and part of your existence.

You adore Joel, maybe more than you want to admit.

During a rare night out with your friends from class, feeling nice in your favorite outfit, courage courses through you. After posting a few photos from your night out, you also post a rather nice selfie.

You pray Joel sees it. Then you get a bit tipsy, and it takes all your willpower not to text Joel.

But the alcohol burns in you. Once you’re back at your apartment, in the safety of your room, you pull up your favorite video.

It’s a spring training video the Rangers made of the team preparing for the upcoming season. The video ranged from showing the guys on the field practicing, to them in the weight room.

There’s a nice small segment just on Cowboy Joel Miller. Specifically he’s training with a few weights and when you first saw it, your throat got so dry.

Joel is drenched in sweat. The simple worn navy blue shirt sticks to his body, highlighting the tone of his arms and width of his shoulders. Curls wet with sweat stick to his forehead. His concentrated face is sinful.

But not as hot as the sounds he makes.

The grunts, the soft growls, the exhales he gives lifting the weights… they drench your thoughts with images of him fucking.

You’ve never done this before, never gotten off on his videos. You never wanted to fall this far.

But it’s so hard when your body feels molten, so wet hearing with his groans directly in your ears. Your fingers trail down to relieve the throbbing wet ache between your legs.

Imagining Joel’s sweaty gorgeous body pressed against yours, picturing his thicker fingers in you, getting to taste him on your tongue - you come incredibly fast.

The next morning a text and a somber guilt wait for you.

Joel of course had messaged you.

Looks like you had fun last night

So he did see your pictures. A blistering heat crawls in your throat.

But reality sinks in fast. You got off to Joel. You don’t want to feel guilty. You reason there’s probably others who have maybe done it. But it does quietly eat at you.

So much that you don’t even reply to Joel for the whole day trying to sort your mind out. He’s the one that eventually calls you.

“Y’go out on a date or somethin’?” Joel asks about the night out, and your mind sputters to a halt.

“Oh uh, no. Just went out with some friends in class.”

“Oh.” He replies quick. “Well, looked like fun.”

You agree and thank him.

“But yeah, no dates for me.” You weakly laugh.

“Yeah? Any reason why?” Joel presses.

Because you’re partially head over heels for him, but you can’t admit that yet.

“No one’s asked me recently that’s all.” You reply simply. You’ve done the dating apps, had the headache mess of ghosting and awkward dates.

Joel snorts. “Pretty thing like you? Hard to imagine.”

His words, like a change up ball that drops wildly in the air, disorient you.

“Trust me, it’s real.” You dryly reply.

“And you? You must be seeing some famous celebrity in secret huh?” You teasingly ask.

You’ve seen the ESPN clips of the beautiful reporters flirting with him, cooing at how handsome he is. He probably could snag a supermodel or other famous person.

Joel barks a hollow laugh of a thing.

“No, none of that.” He answers.

“Ain’t not time for that or…mainly…haven’t found anyone who’s got the patience for me.”

Your heart sinks.

“Wait, what do you mean?” You quietly press.

He sighs.

“M’ older, a single dad. My schedule ain’t perfect. And those that have tried to uh… pursue something haven’t always had the best intentions.”

His voice trails off somber. You wonder how many just wanted him for his money or fame.

A grim cloud seems to settle above you.

“You’re a great guy Joel, an incredible one.” You earnestly tell him. “Those who can’t see it don’t deserve you.”

“And I have to say it but…you’re a real catch.” You go for the obvious baseball pun.

Joel’s chuckle is a beautiful low gruff treasure.

“That was bad.” You can almost picture him shaking his head. “But thanks…same uh, same goes for you. You’re smart, gorgeous. Someone will come around to see you’re worth it.”

You’re drowning in his words. They feel too much.

He ends up having to quickly end the call with his manager calling, and you’re thankful for it. Because this blooming rawness in you feels like it’s getting too much, yet not enough.

Joel’s compliments are sincere. But many feelings tangle you up. It hurts, like you’re stuck in a rose bush trying to get comfortable within the thorns.

Then, the universe decides to pull you away from Joel.

Classes kick up and the workload piles on. You’re exhausted. It even gets harder to reply to Joel as swiftly as you did. You even miss a few of his phone calls and don’t even call him back.

The days blur together.

Then, one morning you find a text waiting for you.

hope you’re alright

You want to cradle that message.

When you call Joel, it’s like not a day has passed between you and him. Your heart soars hearing his voice again.

“So uh…” Joel begins cautiously, and you’ve never heard him this nervous almost. “We’ll be heading your way into town soon.”

That’s right.

Caught up in the semester you completely forgot the team would be playing the Astros soon. Excitement immediately rises in you.

“Hope ya can come out and see us. And if ya do, let me know.” Joel suggests and you swear his voice sounds shy.

The minute the conversation ends, you try checking for tickets. But they’re a pretty penny. You jokingly circle the top section, the highest nosebleeds, and text him saying he needs to try and find you from here.

He texts back immediately.

Don’t worry about the tickets. Just head to will call and let them know you’re with me. Got it covered

That might be one of the hottest things you’ve ever read.

Game day can’t approach any faster. Your parents even mention the upcoming game when you call to check up.

“You should try to go!” Your dad urges, eager.

A part of you has wondered if Joel mentioned you to your dad. You’ve kept quiet, not saying a thing about whatever this is with Joel, and you now think so did Joel.

You take a small comfort in that.

When game day does arrive, you head to Minute Maid Park alone. Your closest friend and classmate couldn’t make it, and neither could your roommate. But for some reason, you’re slightly okay with being here by yourself.

At the ticket window, you nervously say that you’re here for Joel. Like if nothing they verify your name, and with an ease slide tickets your way.

Not just any tickets, but seats right by the Rangers dugout.

Still stunned, but now slightly lost, you can’t help but feel stranded in the stadium.

“You okay, sweetie?” A lovely voice comes and when you turn, you find a sweet older motherly woman. She wears a Texas Rangers jersey and another younger woman stands besides her in the same jersey. They both stare at you concerned.

“You lost?” The younger woman asks sympathetically.

It must be that obvious. The motherly older woman politely asks to check your tickets to point you in the right direction. She perks up.

“Aw look at that! You’re sitting close to us! Come on, we’ll show ya around!” She beams warmly.

“Wait, are you sure?” You ask worried.

“Oh of course,” the younger woman reassures you with a smile. “The stadium is so huge and besides, us Rangers fans gotta stick together.”

She then winks, noticing the Rangers shirt you bought and wore for the game.

You find out Malinda, the older woman, is the mother of the first baseman. And the other lady, Casey, is his wife.

Kindly, this sweet family adopts you, guiding you towards the section literally right besides the dugout on the other side of the net.

You’re stunned in shock yet again.

Even though your tickets are a few rows away from the two sweet ladies, they reassure you you’ll be fine sitting with them.

It’s beautiful and comforting.

“So, who are you here for?” Casey asks with a friendly gossip like whisper. “These seats are for friends and family, and I haven’t seen you around before.”

But then she quickly reassures you don’t have to explain if you don't want to.

You with a weak laugh you’re here to see Joel, adding that he’s a family friend. Her eyes go wide.

“Oh wow! And he warmed up today too so he might pitch!” She says excitedly.

Joel had texted you before the line up was confirmed that he would be warming up.

Don’t know if I’m gonna get put in but just in case

Even if he didn’t, you told him you just wanted to be there to support him.

With the Rangers being the visiting team, they bat first. You want to root for the guys to get a hit and get on base, but you also already selfishly want to see Joel.

Three outs come and the Rangers switch to take the field. No sign of Joel.

In fact he doesn’t show up until the fifth inning, and it happens so casually. Joel simply walks out from the dugout and takes your breath away.

The team wears their cobalt blue jerseys and the color flatters Joel marvelously.

It feels like seeing him for the first time all over again but through a deeper lens you can’t explain.

You clap and cheer with pride when he manages to strike out the first batter. Then the second.

Two strikeouts back to back.

Joel told you back in his younger days he struck out seven hitters in a row. Now for him to get two, much less strike out the third batter, is something to applaud and admire. And the Rangers fans here, including yourself, cheer loud when the team heads back for the next inning.

“Cowboy Miller in his golden age.” Someone off to the side whistles appreciatively.

You don’t fight the syrupy fondness swallowing you whole.

“It’s rare that a more…seasoned pitcher like Joel still is relied on,” your new friend Casey explains. “But it’s hard to see why not. Everyone’s been saying like he’s almost found a new groove and still has so much power.”

He’s a force you’re terribly in awe of.

Seeing the whip of how strong his body still pitches the ball with a dizzying speed, how handsome he looks under the baseball cap, you want to savor this as much as you can.

Joel manages to get two more strikes out in the second inning. Then by the seventh they get a hit off him but thankfully, no runs come in. Cowboy Miller ends the inning striking out the final batter. You, and the other Rangers fans present, erupt wild.

He did amazing.

Laser focused, locked in on the game, he doesn’t search the crowd or even glance up and you understand. The game gets intense when the Astros manage to hit a home run in the eight. In the end the Rangers win because of an error.

But it’s still a sweet victory.

You relish and warmly celebrate it with your co cheerleaders for the game that made you feel so welcomed with them. You’re about to head up and leave, start looking for an Uber ride home, when Malinda calls to you.

“Sweetie? Aren’t ya gonna wait with us and greet the guys!?” She asks with warm curious sweetness.

You can’t say no.

The commotion sweeps you into a neon coated excitement. There’s a special area sectioned off, almost in a backstage-like section that connects to the entry way for the visiting teams. You’re surprised at how many others wait here.

The team slowly trickles out of the locker room and into the hallway. You’re hilariously reminded of a class being let out.

Then the world then melts away when Joel walks out. Focused on his phone you almost want to call out to him, but your voice gets caught in your throat.

Putting his phone away Joel finally glances up and spots you.

Even with his baseball cap on, you see his eyes widen for a fraction. Your body reacts on its own moving towards him. But he also walks fiercely towards you.

The world blurs away for a moment and then without even thinking, you’re embracing him.

It happens so naturally you don’t even realize what you did until you blink and it’s like you’ve been thrown into cold water.

Panicking, you’re about to pull away until Joel’s arms slowly wrap around you.

“Good to see ya too.” He says low gruff but you’re taken out by the knees grateful your body doesn’t give out.

He smells of sweat, of the dirt on the field, and something sharply Joel, and it’s wonderful.

Quickly you draw yourself away to proudly tell him how amazing he did. Joel waves you off with a gruff noise as his eyes refuse to meet you, almost bashful.

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him this close, been in the same space as him. And it feels so different.

“Alright, dinner?” Someone says, and when you turn, you’re stunned to see it’s the team manager.

Guess this means you’ll be saying goodbye.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks when he notices you staying back once everyone funnels outside.

“Uh yeah, gotta grab an Uber first. Didn’t wanna drive down here and deal with Houston traffic along with awful parking during a game.” You joke, and Joel snorts.

“Let me take ya back then.” He offers, and you almost drop your phone.

You scramble out reassuring Joel it’s fine.

“Besides, don’t you have dinner to go to?” And where would he even get a car to take you.

“S’fine. Would rather make sure you get home safe anyway.” He then tells you to hang tight then goes to grab one of the rental cars the team has on ready.

Because of course they do.

Your blood hums wild knowing Joel is taking you home, that you’re going to be alone with him. Even in this glimmering dusted dream you still want to tell Malinda and Casey goodbye and thanks for treating you so kindly.

You wish them well and even welcome their warm goodbye hug.

“Wish you could come to dinner!” Casey frowns.

“Maybe next time.” Her mother in law says bright.

Next time.

“Yes hope to see you at more games.” Casey grins and the possibility bubbles iridescent in you.

With a goodbye to them you wait for Joel. There are still a few others of the wives or girlfriends hanging around while the team sorts out where to go.

You haven’t turned to give them any attention. However something crawls on your skin like you’re hyper aware of being watched.

“Did you see how she hugged him? Probably just using him, poor Joel.” One of them whispers.

“She’s not even that pretty.” Another one giggles.

“Oh then you know he’s maybe just using her then! And if that’s the case then good for Joel.” The other replies with a searing joke that makes your stomach sick.

Joel returns, keys in his hand. “Ready to go?”

You weakly grin back.

You should be basking in this moment of finally getting to be alone with Joel, of getting to see him drive you around. Once in the car he took off his cap allowing you sight of his soft hair. The darkness of the car, the warmth of the city lights flickering by, all coat him glorious. Yet those comments from earlier fester poisonous and sour any hope of enjoying this.

You stay rather quiet while giving him directions to your place.

Joel however is surprisingly talkative.

“So you’ll have to give me recommendations of places to go around here.” His voice even sounds just traces softer, higher almost - like he’s happy being here.

And it kills you.

“Y’seem quiet, you okay?” He notices it of course, ever aware.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t know the game would take that much outta me.” You lie.

Eventually you arrive at your apartment complex.

“Your place is nice.” Joel admires as he helps you out of the car like the Texan gentleman he is. He even follows you to your door.

You graciously thank him again for this night and for taking you home.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

You walk a few steps away from him. The night all around is still quiet, feels soupy with how much hangs in you.

You refuse to cry about this, don’t want to get emotional. If anything, you deserve to treat this like an adult.

“Joel…” you start cautiously, already hating the way your voice wavers.

“Yeah?” His voice stays steady, unbothered, but his eyes furrowing say otherwise.

“What…what is this? What are we?” You ask as steady as you can, but your tone continues to crack.

Joel’s eyes brow furrow and his mouth closes, tightening his jaw.

“Just…good friends.” He replies simply, almost cold. “Just showing my pal’s daughter a nice night.”

There it is.

Your soul deflates. So all the times you’ve felt like this might be something, maybe it's just been you wishing it would be.

So salvaging whatever dignity left, you nod.

“Thanks again, Joel.” You reply briskly and return walking towards your door.

He says your name. It stops you dead in your tracks.

“Why? Why d’ya ask that?” He asks, pressing firm and hard.

You turn back to him, and a deep scowl is etched on his face.

“It doesn’t matter.” You answer.

“The fuck does that mean?” He snaps a bit sharp.

“It means what it means.” You fire back.

“Bullshit. Why did you ask that?” Joel growls out firmer.

“Even if I told you, it doesn’t matter.” You repeat.

“Stop sounding like a fuckin’ owl.” His voice rises hard and fast, like a hand slamming on the wall.

It startles you, makes your eyes water and something in you shakes. Mainly because you know this is beginning to taste like the end. The smallest trace of hope is dissipating right before you.

You blink back tears, and immediately Joel’s face falls.

“Honey, I’m sorry-”

Shaking your head, you cut him off. Not even the sweet pet name he effortlessly uses can shake you.

Through gritted teeth you tell him to go.

“Not when you’re this upset.” He urges.

Through tears a sad water laugh escapes you and Joel’s eyes go cloudy.

“I’m realizing…I’ll never be anything to you then just your friend's kid, huh?” Your voice is waterlogged and you can’t fight it.

“You are.” He states simple and straightforward.

You nod, swallowing back the heartache boiling over.

“Can’t be anythin’ more than that.” Joel adds through mutter.

“Why?” You now ask him. Under the amber light of your apartment’s hallway the most frustrated cloudy look hardens his face.

His eyes scan your face then he steps closer towards you

“Don’t act dumb, sweetheart.” His voice rips out low cruel, slightly harsh.

You’re not and you tell him that.

“I…” the words you’ve held locked up so fiercely in your heart now sneak out from their bars to escape.

“I’d give anything to be yours, Joel.” You croak barely realizing you even said that.

He inhales, and his face goes taunt.

You wait for the sharp reply, even brace for it.

Instead Joel swoops in, kisses you wild like a sudden storm, and presses you against the door of your apartment.

Greedily, you claw onto him not wanting to ever let this go, to let him go. Your mouth begs him more to invade and consume. And he does so with a steady hunger.

The clamor into your apartment is messy, but at one point Joel cautiously stops to look around.

“My roommate’s visiting family…” you reassure, kissing his neck and softly under the side of his jaw with delicate cautious lips.

“Just you and me.” You whisper soft.

Joel takes command the minute you lead him to your room.

“Thought about this. Fuck, think about ya all the damn time.” He growls against your neck as he slides your bra off and runs a callous hand over your chest.

“Fucked my fist that first night you went swimmin’ at m’house.” Joel’s words make you whine and then his lips lick against your skin trying to savor you.

“Me too.” You admit through a whimper. “Touched myself thinking of you.”

Joel freezes.

“Tell me,” he says rather calmly, deadly almost.

Your syrupy lust begins fading away when you realize what you said, what he asks for, and what your answer will be.

Your lips and eyes shut close.

Then Joel’s warm breath, like a ghost, crawls against up your chest and tickles against your ear now.

“Come on, honey,” his voice is utterly decadent with a plea. “Tell me, please.”

You swallow hard telling Joel you don't want him to get weirded out.

He hums against your neck already starting to suck a mark against your skin. Your eyes roll back, and the embarrassment is quickly fading away.

“Promise, I’ll be okay.” Joel reassures you with a mumble against your skin.

So with a shaky voice, you weakly admit how you touched yourself to videos of him.

He groans.

“Baby, oh fuck, fuckin - shit.” Joel sputters out hard, like he just got kicked in the gut, and you’re worried until his lips smash into yours.

He devours you.

You’re swept into a tangled dizzying frenzy. Your clothes practically get ripped off as do Joel’s while he clutches onto you and licks into your mouth.

“That’s my girl. Knew you’d be m’good girl.” He says almost drunk and you’re done for.

You fall into the chasm with no hopes of turning back. But you don’t want to.

Joel feels like a god carving open your universe. You want to consume him and want him to consume you. He becomes your center of gravity.

In the aftermath, you’re left basking in Joel’s warmth and never want to leave.

Even though you were in his arms, Joel had to sit up to take a call and now scrolls through his phone. Your fingers trace his beautiful back.

You’re thankful for all the soft lamps you bought that now melt him into a dreamlike glow.

“Joel.”

He hums a gruff gentle noise that says he’s listening.

“I don’t…” you begin softly, then tell him your doubts. You don’t want him to think you’re simply using him for his status or money.

“Joel… you could quit or retire tomorrow and work with your brother as a contractor and I’d still always want you the way I want you.” Your deliciously aching limbs, the soft afterglow, all of it has you speaking soft and freely.

You never wanted Joel because of his fame or even because of the forbidden taste of him being friends with your dad. You wanted Joel for deeper reasons, some that have carved out a chasm in your heart.

You explain this all to him best as you can without rambling or sounding silly.

Joel sighs.

“Y’shouldn’t.” His voice is a hollow rumble. “I’m old, friends with your dad. We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”

Now a bitter venom spills in you.

You glare at his back, how his shoulders slump defeated while you sit up

“I'm an adult, Joel. And if that’s all you’re worried about then sorry it’s a shit reason.” You launch back.

Over his shoulder he glares at you.

“If…” you swallow hard. “If you’re the one who wants to leave, because i’m that young, or you really don't want this or don’t feel what I feel, then fine. At least tell me that.”

“But I care about you. And I want to make this, us, work.” You finish firmly, even with how much emotions clash in your chest.

Joel sighs again. His eyes face turns away now down downcasted.

“Didn’t wanna want you the way I do. You’re so bright, fucking’ smart and so g’damn gorgeous.” He softly admits.

A pause settles between him and you.

“Y’could be with someone younger, less complicated.” Joel admits low.

“Don’t want anyone younger or less complicated. Just want you.” You reassure with a soft steady mutter.

He goes quiet again.

“Used to not get bothered when I started leavin’ away games by myself. With Tommy married and the business booming, then the girls startin’ to have their own lives…I didn’t mind doing this alone.”

Underneath his words you catch it, his rusting loneliness.

“But then…these past few months…and now today seeing ya waitin’ for me…” he says clipped, like the rest of his words are caught in his throat and he can’t free them yet

Joel turns, and his eyes bore into you.

The silence stays as you stare unflinchingly back at him.

He doesn’t need to say anything else. You don’t think you have to either. Like a magnetic pull, it’s effortless moving towards him. Joel’s warm large calloused hand, seasoned from so many seasons of hard work, of pitching, cradles your face. You kiss him with every inch of your heart.

Even after spending the night, you’re surprised Joel hasn’t left yet. He even comments about figuring out lunch plans with you.

“You have another game today, Cowboy.” You comment.

The term makes his eyebrows rise, and the most coy smirk tugs his face making him look so charming.

“Got today off to rest, ya little shit.” It’s affectionate. “Besides my back ain’t what it use to be and after goin’ more rounds with ya this morning-”

In the middle of your living room you rush to kiss him.

The rest of the day unfolds like a dream drenched and stitched from every domestic fantasy you’ve ever had. Joel stands in your kitchen when you make him a quick lunch and you laugh apologizing that your fridge isn’t MLB diet certified. Joel steals your last saved snack after that joke.

Cuddled snug on the couch with him, you try watching a movie but Joel, so greedy and handsy, ends up fucking your brains out with his tongue.

When dinner rolls around, you order from your favorite local takeout place and Joel pays for everything. You ignore all the work you need to do for the week and don’t care. You’re here at this moment and want to stay crystalized in it for as long as you can.

But tomorrow is the last day before the team leaves to Miami to play the Marlins.

While showering with him, you wrap yourself against Joel’s back already dreading his leave. He seems to sense it too because his hands squeezes yours.

Against your shower wall he glides into you tender and slow, almost trying to draw out every inch of this.

Later that night, you try staying up but the day begins settling in. Your eyes flutter trying to fight sleep.

He mutters your name soft while his fingers run soft against your side.

“Hm?” You answer, trying hard to fight your tired eyes.

“Don’t want ya to think i’m ever using you, honey. You’re not just some young thing keepin’ me company.”

His words are simple, but they erupt so much in you.

Joel had been spooning you from behind, but now you immediately turn around to burrow your face against his chest. You reassure him and his arms tighten around you wonderful chains you wish never break.

But the next morning arrives.

“Gonna come to our last game here?” Joel asks while he packs up.

“Don’t know, I heard you guys still have that really old guy who might be pitching.” You say with a shrug.

His face frowns hard, but Joel moves to playfully smack your ass while you laugh. He quickly draws you in for another kiss.

You have class tomorrow and work you need to jump on, but you go to the game. Joel doesn’t play, but you don’t mind. Getting to hug him goodbye one last night in the shadow of the stadium is worth it.

“Text ya when we get to the airport.” Joel promises, secretly placing a soft kiss on your head.

That night when you get home you order not one, but two Joel Miller jerseys.

#again I blame baseball season and the recent dodgers game so here we are lol #but seriously thank you so much if you take the time to read me and pitcher Joel think you’re a home run #pitcher!Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #baseball player!joel #joel miller fic #pedrostories #Joel 🤎#game changer series

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erodasfishtacos · 9 months ago

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Digging A Deeper Hole || MLB ||

Prompt: Harry is going through a rough adjustment to his new life. At twenty-one, he was the face of a massive franchise, a father, and a husband with millions watching his every mood. He starts to feel it. Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Angst - please keep in mind H is young here so he’s a bit more immature than one shots where he’s older. He’s still figuring stuff out

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========================= Harry had the weight on the world on his shoulders.

The past year had been the best but most stressful time that he has ever had in his life.

He hadn’t had a break, it was go, go, go.

At the age of twenty-one, it felt like he had responsibilities that most people never had this amount of.

He had expectations from every side, especially from work, though it sounded like a dream to be the new face of Major League Baseball, to be the highest paid rookie to start, or the fact that he was a projected to be one of the best players of all time.

It came at a cost.

A really fucking big cost.

It took Harry a while to realize that he was experiencing some depression, the pressure of his coaches, the team, the public, and on top of that, he was navigating being newly married with a baby.

”Styles, get off the phone!” His assistant coach shouted from the field, he should be jogging onto the mound because practice was nearly over, and everyone was ready to head back to the hotels.

“Hold the fuck on!” Harry shouts back without looking up, waiting for the FaceTime call to connect, he had thought he had more time before they started up again.

Harry’s heart leaps when it connects, his perfect baby in the camera view, blowing raspberries between chewing on teether that looked like car keys, “Say ‘hi’ to your daddy!”

Easton is too little to quite comprehend the phone but he blinks in confusion at the screen before blowing another wet raspberry towards his father.

”Hi East, look at how handsome you look,” Harry croons, trying to memorize every little feature because he’s only going to be this small for a little while, “Your daddy misses you so much.”

YN pulls the phone to her face for a moment, “I took him on a walk around Central Park earlier today and he saw a group of pigeons. He squealed so loudly that they all flew away in a flock and he started giggling. I wish I would have gotten it on video.”

”He really does love the pigeons-“ Harry begins but is cut off.

”Styles, final warning. Get off your phone or I’m locking it up! Now,” The other coach yells, starting to actually get pissed, and Harry has to resist the urge to flip them off.

”H,” YN says knowingly, it was pretty common that he was getting yelled at, “Go practice.”

“I want to be home with you,” Harry frowns, he truly means it.

”I know,” YN agrees with kind understanding on her face, “Go kick some ass for us.”

He didn’t get to spend the time he wanted at home with his family, the away games caused him to panic, and he was starting to have anxiety attacks as he steps onto the private jet.

Harry was blowing YN’s phone up at any free moment he got, asking to FaceTime to see her and Easton, and YN had noticed how much more he was asking for reassurance, it was frequent.

”He’s sleepy. He just fed for almost an hour,” YN murmurs, tired herself and her eyes were heavy, it was undeniable that she had a lot on her plate with taking care of Easton by herself.

YN did see Anne once or twice a week but she was adamant that she did not need help raising her own baby, that she was fully capable of taking care of Easton by herself when Harry wasn’t home.

Easton was ten-months at this point, splayed on his mother’s chest with a milk-drunk little smile as he laid his small fist on her neck, easily starting to drift to sleep.

Harry feels a pang of disgusting, gnarly guilt and disappointment that he’s not there to lay in bed with them, and he felt like a piece of shit for sitting in this swanky hotel room by himself.

”Harry?” YN asks after he doesn’t respond, he was just watching the screen as his wife ran her fingers through Easton’s soft baby curls, silky smooth.

Harry swallows harshly to avoid the tears prickling, “I love you so much. You know that?”

YN smiles at him, soft and warm, “We love you so much. We miss you and cannot wait for you to get home. We both want so many cuddles with you.”

Harry’s jaw clenches, scrunching his nose, and feel the pit in his stomach get deeper, darker, rawer, and it felt overwhelming as he sat alone with his family on the other side of the country.

It felt suffocating that he wanted to go home but he couldn’t because he had a contract, a job, he had to provide, and he worked his whole life to be where he’s at.

He’s in a position that billions would want to be in but all he can think about is being with his family, he would give up everything he’d ever accomplished to cuddle with them every night.

But he couldn’t, deep down, he knew that it was his emotions getting the best of him, and it’s disappointing that he’s not enjoying baseball like he thought he would right now.

“I…I’m sorry,” Harry sniffles, rubbing his eye roughly to catch the tears before they fall any further.

YN’s smile falls which makes him feel even worse, “Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you apologizing?”

”I’m not there to help you,” Harry presses his face into his forearm to try to stop the tears, “I’m just sittin’ here in a hotel room, I’m fuckin’ useless to you.”

”Hey,” YN says firmly, lips going into a straight line, “Harry, you are not useless. How could you think that? You’re providing for us. You make it possible for me to stay at home, in this beautiful home, with everything we’d ever need, and spend every moment with Easton. That’s because of you.”

It makes Harry feel a bit better, that perspective on the situation because he hadn’t looked at it like that, “I’ll always provide for you two.”

”You’re the best provider. We love you so much. We are so proud of you. Easton is going to be so so proud of his daddy and what a good man you are to us,” YN tells him confidently, thter’s no wavering in her voice as she watches Harry’s reaction.

Harry hangs his head, done trying to stop the tears, he didn’t feel good.

He had felt depression a few times in his life, the most when he was going through his struggles with his sexuality, and it was starting to feel like that again.

”Harry,” YN’s voice is soft, careful, “Are you okay, baby? What made you so upset?”

Harry wipes his face with the back of his hand, he didn’t want to worry YN.

She had so much on her plate right now that the last thing she needed to worry about was his mental health because he needed to pull it together and stop being so emotional.

”I just miss you,” Harry tells her, it wasn’t a lie but it really wasn’t the full truth, there was so much more to it than what he was letting on but he could handle it on his own.

Lord knows he had enough time while he was sitting in this hotel room alone or had a flight on the private jet.

Harry felt like a car ran him over, twice, and then backed up over him.

He did as good as everyone expected him to do during the games in San Diego, he won all three of the games with too many strikeouts to count, and two home runs to get them scores.

Harry was able to shut his mind off during the games, all he was thinking about was his job, and what he needed to do to make sure that they won the games - that was it.

Afterwards, the creeping feelings that had been haunting him especially hard this past month or so wouldn’t wait very long to pop up again after the games.

He started demanding a flight home the night of the last game, everyone else always waited until the next day because traveling right after playing was near torture with the exhaustion.

Harry felt like death as he landed in New York City, his bones were heavy as if they weighed a thousand pounds each, his arm was sore from how many pitches he had to throw, and he hadn’t been sleeping well when he was away from YN and the baby.

His heart was a bit lighter as he opened the front door to their home, the smell of his favorite brownies hitting his nose, and a peel of bubbly, angelic baby giggles echoed through the hallway.

Harry needed to see them, he dropped his bag and didn’t care that his cologne bottle most likely just shattered inside because of how careless he was being.

No, he was making his way toward the smell and sounds, and when he found what he waas looking for - his stomach untwisted just the slightest and everything didn’t seem so bleak for a moment.

YN turns around, having been alerted to his entrance by his bag dropping, Easton was on her hip and had a spatula in his hand, gnawing on it happily.

”Who is that, East?” YN bounces him up and down, “Is that your daddy?”

Harry wants to cry tears of relief when Easton drops the spatula, letting it clatter onto the tile, and starts to cry.

He was the cutest little thing.

Whenever Harry got home from work, Easton would start to cry because he wanted him, and was sad like he just realized that he had been missing him all day and he was finally home with him.

”Oh my goodness,” YN hums as Easton wiggles, starting to reach out for him with grabbing hands, dramatic tears running down his face as his pouty bottom lip wobbles.

”No tears, bub,” Harry coos as he steps forward, taking Easton out of her arms, and giving him the biggest hug he can manage as he presses kisses to the side of his face, his hair, his nose, “I missed you so much. I hate being away from you, East, miss you every moment.”

YN is watching with a content smile, patiently waiting her turn as he blinks over at her, his voice still soft and raspy, “Hi mama.”

”Hi H,” YN whispers back, stepping forward to cup his jaw and bring their lips together in a kiss, her thumb rubbing the stubble of his jawline and her other squeezing his hip, “I missed you.”

Harry hates that he feels the lump in his throat, “I fuckin’ missed you so much. I can’t explain how much I hate being away from you and him. I am so grateful that you’re so good to me and East. You know that?”

One of YN’s love languages was definitely words of affirmation so to hear such nice compliments really did mean a lot to her because she didn’t always feel the most secure either.

It was a lot to have her husband traveling all the time, where if he wanted, there would be unlimited opportunities for him to make bad choices because there was not a shortage of men and women who would bed him without a second thought.

YN had complete and utter trust in him.

It wasn’t ever a real concern but when Harry was as gorgeous as he was, it was hard not to feel a bit of insecurity when people often let it be known how much they found him attractive.

”Thank you, H,” YN brings him in for another kiss, “Dinner is almost ready. Brownies are also baking in the oven. Easton was my little helper but was trying to get his chunky fingers in the raw batter which he had an attitude about when I told him ‘no’.”

”You better listen to your mama,” Harry hums at his son, munching at his neck until Easton is giggling and pulling at his curls to keep him close, he loved his father so much, “Be nice to mama, Easton Robin.”

YN reaches forward, “Go get a shower. Settle in a little bit.”

Harry passes Easton back but frowns, “Darling, I can take him and manage. You have had him for the last week.”

YN waves him off, “I got him for a few minutes longer. Get showered, dressed, then we can eat dinner, and cuddle. Okay?”

”Sounds like a dream,” Harry replies because it really does, all that he wants is to be able to hold them in his arms, and start filling this hole that starts to eat away at him every time he has to leave.`

After Harry showers, he tugs on his briefs, and sits on the edge of the bed.

He doesn’t know how he fell asleep like that but it seemed to happen nearly as soon as he plopped down on the plush of their bed because he hadn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours, after an exhausting game and seven hours of travel.

The next time he wakes up, it’s completely dark in the bedroom, and he blinks his eyes open to see the alarm clock reading that it was three in the morning.

YN was fast asleep on her side of the bed, baby monitor on the side table, and Easton was sleeping in his nursery on his back with a binky halfway out of his mouth.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, putting his fists to them for a moment as he grits his teeth, “Fuck fuck fuck.”

He gets out of bed, not wanting to disturb YN, she looked so fucking pretty while she slept and Harry was in disbelief of what a fucking idiot he was.

YN not only watched Easton for the past week, she managed everything else for their household, made Harry dinner and dessert, all for him to fall asleep.

She needs a break from the baby, YN should have gotten one last night after all her hard work, and Harry just went and fell asleep like a bloody teenager with no responsibilities.

He grabs the baby monitor so that YN won’t be woken up, hoping that she will sleep in for as long as possible in the morning, and Harry can take on baby duties.

Harry’s plan was to clean the house, the least he could do as an apology but everything was near spotless thanks to his wife, and when he went into the kitchen to clean the dishes from dinner.

There were none, YN had put all the leftovers away, wrapped the brownies, and cleaned all the pots and pans - as well as all of Easton’s bottles.

”Fuck me,” Harry grunts as he resists the urge to hit something, instead slamming his fists on the countertop, and staring at nothing as he feels the deep hole become bigger, “Such a fuck-up.”

Harry doesn’t even know what he can do to repay her, to make it up to her, and the mixture of his anxiety and depression had to be the gnarliest combination because they were kicking his ass.

His anxiety starts taking over and an intrusive thought starts to pop into his brain and he can’t shake it.

What if she leaves you?

What if she doesn’t think you’re a good enough father?

She does all this for you and you treat her like shit the moment you come home?

You don’t deserve her.

Harry’s throat tightens up, it feels hard to breathe for a few minutes as he tries taking slow, deep inhales before repeating the process to help try to regulate his breathing.

He had to make this up to her.

Harry manages Easton by himself, that wasn’t an issue, and he was even able to run out to grab YN’s favorite donuts from a few blocks down before she was up.

Harry was currently in the living room, laying on the floor with Easton as he played with these soft, big blocks, and smiled at his father with only two little teeth showing on his bottom gums.

”Morning, well afternoon,” YN laughs as she looks at the clock on the wall, it was nearly twelve and she was able to catch up on all the sleep she desperately needs, “You didn’t need to let me sleep for that long, H. I appreciate it though, felt super nice to be able to get re-energized.”

”It’s the least I could do,” Harry replies, the enthusiasm that was usually in his voice was missing, and he struggled to meet her eye because he was embarassed.

YN knows something is off as she sits down next to them, scooping Easton up and tucking him under her big shirt where he can excitedly start to nurse - he very begrudgingly used a bottle but it was always a bit more difficult to get him to eat with one.

”Are you sure you’re okay?” YN frowns as she rubs his knee, “You seem down. Did something happen?”

”I’m a piece of shit,” Harry chuckles without humor, throwing his hands up, “Isn’t it obvious? I leave you at home with the baby and then the minute I get home, I fall asleep and don’t do shit to help you. On top of that, you made dinner and I didn’t even eat it.”

YN’s frown turns into more of a scowl, “Harry, what has you talking like this? Did someone say something to you? I don’t like when you talk like that. You were exhausted! You were just away for a week, training and playing, and have so much other than that going on. Do you really think that I’m mad about that?”

“I’m mad about how I acted because it effects you,” Harry grits back, his anxiety and depression had a tendency to make him cranky in a way that he normally wouldn’t be, “It’s no excuse. You get no excuses. I need to do better.”

”You need to stop talking like that,” YN retorts as she stares back at him with a twitch of her brow, “Everything is fine. We are fine. Nothing is wrong. This is how our life looks sometimes and that’s okay. You are doing this to take care of us.”

“It feels pretty fuckin’ selfish right now,” Harry shakes his head, standing up and trying to hide the wince from how achey his muscles were, he should do a cold plunge but he’s not going to take anymore time for himself - he dosn’t deserve it.

“How is it selfish?” YN is getting frustrated, her leg shaking slightly but then she stops when she realizes that it’s jostling Easton and he whines in displeasure.

”I get to get a full night’s sleep in a luxury hotel room, you’re here.”

YN scoffs, licking over her teeth, “Yeah, Harry. It’s a massive hardship, living in a three million dollar home in the middle of the Upper East Side. I think I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the fuckin’ point,” Harry cracks his neck, his anxiety made his heart rate feel like he was constantly running a marathon, it was hard for him to keep his composure.

”Don’t talk to me like that,” YN raises her voice, moving to get up with Easton still suckling away, “This isn’t how you show appreciation, Harry. I’m just trying to have a conversation and you have an attitude.”

Harry knows that he’s just going to continue to dig himself a deeper pit than he’s already in if he keeps talking.

Most of the time, he did not feel like like a twenty-one year old despite his boyish looks but right now, he felt like he was acting his age and it wasn’t a good thing.

”Why don’t you take Easton and see your mom today,” YN offers, her voice is still tight but trying to keep it cordial as she brings Easton out from under her shirt.

He was blinking languidly, his lips smacking in satisfaction as his belly was full, and YN hands him over to Harry to take, “Yeah, I’ll get him ready and go.”

It was a good opportunity to give YN a break but he was honestly a bit surprised that she took him up on it or that she didn’t want to come with because when Harry came home, they tried to stay together as much as possible.

He does know that he’s acting like a complete dickhead which makes sense why she wasn’t dying to spend time with him right night, still it was just odd because it’s unlike her.

”Sounds good,” YN pulls out her phone, looking down and fingers flitting across the screen which was also a bit odd, how she was a distracted by it because it was unlike her just like her letting him go alone.

God, Harry was making a fucking mess, wasn’t he? +++++++++++++++++

It stuck out like a sore thumb when Harry was off.

Normally, he was the most easy-going, bubbly, funny person who stole most of the attention when he wasn’t even trying.

It was how he captured everyone’s interest whether it was his big grin that had his dimples showing deep in the pockets of his cheeks, the way he threw his head back and let out these low raspy chuckles, or just how he nodded attentively when someone else was talking.

So when he wasn’t feeling like himself, all those things that lit up rooms disappeared, and it was hard for him to socialize.

Harry was still beating himself up the entire ride outside of the city to his mother’s house, Easton was napping in the back and this would be a nice sleep before the excitement of Nana’s house.

Harry was replaying everything with YN, from the way he was sharp with her to get short with her when she did absolutely nothing to deserve that from him because she was so fucking good to him - all the time.

YN never complained about anything.

She never complained about being at home with the baby alone.

YN never tied to guilt Harry because he was away during the season so much.

It makes it so much worse that he’s not able to hold his shit together even just for YN, he didn’t want her to worry about his mental health, that’s the last thing she needed on her plate.

He was going to figure this out himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like he couldn’t talk to her, it was more that he knew she cares so much that it might upset her or make her worry when he’s on the road, all he wants for her is to focus on Easton and herself.

Harry normally loves going up to his mom’s, a little lake house that he had bought her with one of his first paychecks, despite how much she huffed and puffed, he knew that it was a dream of hers to live on the water.

It was the least he could do after she did so much to make his dreams come true.

However, despite Harry getting a decent amount of sleep, he felt bone tired and just drained was the best way to explain it - he felt like all the energy that he normally feels has been sucked clean out of him.

He wanted to turn the car around, go home, crawl into bed with YN and Easton, and not have to interact with anyone else for at least a week but that wasn’t possible with his schedule.

Harry should be enjoying his time right now.

They have an off week which meant that he had nearly two and a half weeks at home because the following week were games at their home stadium so he could be home every night.

Harry just couldn’t wait for this season to be over.

And that thought alone alarmed him because he fucking loved baseball, he loved being the best of the best, he loved all the recognition he got but right now his desire was lower than it’s been in a really long time.

When he pulls down the long driveway, a house sat back off the residential road where she had neighbors but there was a good amount of distance between the them to give privacy and seclusion.

He sees that there are multiple cars in the driveway which makes Harry groan because he didn’t realize that his mom was going to call over friends and family since he was coming to visit.

Anne did that sometimes, when Harry called saying that he’d be up, she would call aunts, uncles, relatives, and close friends to come for a barbecue, and it was the last thing he wanted right now.

He was already a bit peeved that his mother didn’t ask him first because he would have very clearly told her that he wasn’t in the mood to entertain people, to answer questions, and talk about baseball for a good five hours.

When Harry opens the back door, Easton’s already awake and smiling at his father with a gummy smile, his two bottom baby teeth made him look so adorable but he knew that more were going to popping through soon.

”Hi, sweetheart,” Harry hums softly as he unbuckles his baby, bringing him up into his arms and into a hug, kissing his temple, “I love you so much, you know that? M’only away so that you have everythin’ you’d ever want. Miss you every second-“

A smack comes heartily on his back, right on his throwing shoulder where the soreness is radiating like a motherfucker, and he has to grit his teeth to not curse and startle Easton.

”Buddy, how much did this ride cost ya?” His Uncle Chuck, his mom’s brother asks obnoxiously, “Saw these things were going for a hundred and some change?”

Harry takes a deep breath, his patience was wearing thin, and he had barely made it out of the car, “I don’t remember how much it cost.”

“That’s what being rich gets you, huh? Twenty-one with a fat bank account and no responsibilities. I would have loved to have a life like yours,” Chuck chortles as he leans up against said expensive SUV, beer in his hand.

“I have plenty of fuckin’ responsibilities,” Harry bites back, scolding himself for cursing in from of Easton, even if he was too young to understand, he tried not to make it a habit.

“Sure you do, bud,” His uncle laughs, clearly not catching onto Harry’s mood, “Last thing I’d want is a baby with everything that you have going on. Growing up too fast.”

“Luckily, it’s not your life,” Harry brushes him off, picking up Easton’s diaper bag on his free shoulder and hikes him up, “We’ll be in soon. Give us a minute.”

His uncle shrugs before staggering off, a drunken sway in his step as he stumbles back towards the house.

Harry buries his nose in Easton’s downy, fresh smelling wispy curls to steady his breathing, he feels a bit emotional as he talks to his son.

“M’sorry, East. Daddy doesn’t feel good right now,” Harry swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut, “I just have to pull it together. God, I love you. My baby.”

Harry gives himself another minute of grounding before taking a deep exhale and shutting the door, walking towards the house.

Everyone was on the back patio, sipping on drinks, and cheering when they saw him.

Dread settles heavy in Harry’s stomach as his family members as they start asking him about his games, wanting to recap every play he’s made, his sponsorships and his much he’s getting paid.

Harry’s trying to keep up the conversation but all he can think about is how much he didn’t want to be there, and he should have just taken Easton to the park or something more low-key.

When he bumps into his mom in the kitchen, Anne is prepping a salad and smiles back at her son - unaware of his mood.

“Isn’t this fun, hun?” Anne asks happily, sprinkling in some spices as she hums.

“Why couldn’t it have just been us? I have to be around people all the time and I thought it was just going to be you. Now I have to entertain all of them,” Harry’s tone definitely takes her aback as she puts down the tongs she was using.

“Usually you love when everyone’s here, I don’t understand,” Anne’s smile drops, wiping her hands on the dishrag.

“Does anybody ever consider that I don’t love talking about baseball every second of the day or how much money is in my bank account?” Harry’s tone is venomous and resentful, unfairly harsh on his mom when she hadn’t tried to upset him.

“Harr-“ Anne begins to apologize, albeit, a bit confused.

“Easton’s almost ready for a nap,” He cuts her off as he checks his watch, it didn’t really matter what time it was, he was done.

“My bedroom-“

“No, I’m going home,” Harry shakes his head, turning on his heel. He has the decency to look back and say, “Sorry, mom. I just can’t be here.”

Easton was currently being held by his Aunt Jane, he was starting to fuss because he had a bottle not too long ago and he was starting to get cranky.

“Alright, we’re going to head out. East needs his nap,” Harry announces, hiking on the diaper bag, and starting to walk over.

“Oh, we barely see him! Just a few more minutes with this little one. You can hold off his nap for a little!” His Aunt Jane jokingly holds him tighter for a minute and nothing right now is funny to Harry.

Harry doesn’t get loud but his voice gets steely as he reaches down and scoops Easton up from her lap, “Don’t tell me how to take care of my baby, understood?”

His poor aunt is taken aback, just like his mom, and nods.

Harry storms out without another glance back, ignoring the whispers about how odd he was acting and rude.

When he straps Easton in, the dark bubble in belly subsides for a moment- like sun breaking through storm clouds.

“Daaa,” Easton coos, happy but tired, tucking his binky back between his lips.

“Good job, baby,” Harry sniffles, blinking up towards the sky to keep the tears away, “Fuck, get it together.”

Harry had to pepper at least ten kisses on Easton’s warm, sleepy face before he’s able to close the door and get in the driver’s seat.

Harry presses on the console touch screen, calling YN, and he frowns when it goes straight to voicemail which was very unlike her.

He tries again.

Voicemail.

He pulls out his phone, trying to check her location, and it hasn’t updated in the past hour - it was just unusual for her phone to die, always on standby but he tries not to worry.

YN was probably still very pissed off at him, if he was to bet, she put her phone on ‘do not disturb’ so that she could take a well deserved nap and not be bothered.

Harry squeezes the steering wheel, reminding himself once again, “Pull yourself together.”

But in the back of his mind, an anxious thought pops in, well multiple.

What is YN is leaving you?

What if she’s sick of not having you around as much as other wives have their husbands?

First time you see her in a week and you treat her like shit. You really think she’ll stay?

Harry has never once thought like that, even when they’ve gotten in serious fights but god damn, he couldn’t stop his mind from going a million miles a minute, and it felt like shit.

Nothing was wrong.

Everything felt like it’s crumbling.

#ano #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #update #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n

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otaku0411 · 10 months ago

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A GLASS OF WHISKEY PLEASE?

SUMMARY: This takes place in LA, before the movie. You’re a bartender and you two meet and it might become a regular occurrence. *MIXED POV* *18+*

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It’s another Friday night shift for you. Because of the nice sunny weather and the sports games that’s going on tonight, you have a good chance at making some money. You work a a fine casual dining restaurant as a bartender. The job is enough to be comfortable but not long term. When arriving at work, you greet your coworkers and begin prepping the bar.

Finishing up, you turn the TV to the MLB channel and see that the Dodgers and Yankees were playing. You let it play in the background, not knowing what is to come and soon you started getting customers.

It’s now 9:45 p.m. and the bar is PACKED! Middle aged men watching the game while drinking their beers, and guests conversing among each other. Despite all of the noise and some inconsiderate people, you were holding up well and just trying to make it through the night.

Eventually, you get everyone situated and things started to slow down. You got one more hour til closing and you’re relieved that it’s almost over.

I’m washing the glasses in the sink when I see a man sitting at the bar. I dry my hands off and go to take his order.

“How you doing sir, what can I get you started off with?” I asked him. He look at me and gave me a small smile. I was never one to be nervous around men, especially since being a bartender I dealt with the worse in men, but his aura and demeanor did something to me that even I couldn’t put into words.

“I’m fine, can you start me off with a whiskey meat and some wings please?” He answered, still holding that grin. I nodded “ID please?” He hands me his ID KENJI SATO, never heard of him. I handed his ID back and fixed his drink. Once I gave it to him, I commented, “I wouldn’t expect you to be a whiskey kind of guy.”

His thick eyebrows rise up with my comment. “What do you mean by that.” “I mean you’re a young and seemingly fit person. I would’ve just expected like a tequila or a beer kind of guy is all I’m saying.”

He chuckled at my answer. “If I’m being honest, I do prefer my beers. But after the day I’m having, only whiskey could make me feel better.” He sips on his drink.

“Well if you ever wan to talk about my day. I would be more than happy to hear. After all, a bartender is like part therapist.” I joked at the end. For a minute it look like he was considering it, but ultimately he declined. “No I don’t want to get into it. It’s Friday and everyone should be in a good mood. Plus I don’t like making pretty women upset with my problems.” He smirked as I could feel myself getting flustered. I quickly turned away from him before he could see my face.

I continue to tend to other customers but I glance at him whenever I get the opportunity. He seems to be focused on the TVs. I admire him a little more and see how well kept and attractive he is. His black compression shirt is complimenting his physique and he run through his hair every now and again. Of course, it’s Hollywood and there’s beautiful people everywhere but as corny as it sounds he’s different.

I go back to him to check up on how’s he’s doing and offer another drink. “No thank I’m good. I’m ready for my tab please.” I print out his ticket and he asked “How much is it?” “Just $32 dollars. You just got a drink and appetizer.”

He takes out a fifty and a twenty. “Keep the rest. I had a good time. When you work if you don’t mind me asking?” I was a little taken aback from his questions. I never give out my work schedules because of creeps and stories I hear. However there’s a first time for many.

“Well I obviously work Friday night and Saturday night. If you want to see me, you’ll have to come here every night to see for yourself.” I smirked. Most guys would just say fuck you! But his guy, he smirked back and came forward to in my ears “Challenge accepted.” He whispered. “I’ll see you next week then.” He walked off but before he did, he looked back and gave me a final smile.

By the time he left, it was ready to close. As I’m cleaning up my station, my coworker comes up to me and shrieked. “OMG! YOURE SO LUCKY! YOU GOT TO SERVE KENJI SATO!!” I look at her confused not knowing what the heck she’s talking about. “Yeah, what about him?” I asked. She look at me dumbfounded “KENJI SATO! The baseball who plays for the Dodgers.” She pull up her phone and my mouth dropped when I saw who was on her screen.

How tf can I be so dumb. It all makes sense now. His Jacket, the muscle, his attractive face. I get celebrities and influencers often time, but rarely do I get athletes.Especially now that he’s going to be a regular of mine.

“Well this job just got a lot more interesting.”

_______________________________________________

A/N: HEYY YALL! Thank you so much for reading this story! It’s the first fanfics I’ve written in years😭 So if I make any mistakes, please tell me.

But I’ve been fixated on this man for a week now, which is why I’m writing this story. I hope you enjoy this story.

Also this will be a three part story. I am already halfway done with part two so it’ll be released by tomorrow🌸!

‼️‼️UPDATE: PART TWO IS OUT, ITS PINNED ON MY PAGE‼️‼️

#ultraman rising #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #x reader #ultraman #ken sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato x y/n #Kenji #fanfic #ken sato smut #Spotify

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tumblingxelian · 5 days ago

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MLB AU - Headshot (Virus Timeline)

Summary:

The careless flick of a yoyo in anger leads to a death, which sets of a daisy-chain of chaos that no one could hope to predict let alone control.

Prologue

Lila, bedecked in a cleaning lady disguise in her apartment, was caught somewhere between giddy satisfaction and paranoid dread as she skimmed the results of her latest play.

Things had gone beyond well when Ladybug & Chat Noir decided to help an Akuma toss the mayor out of office. Ordering Chloe to burst in with the press and make them look bad had been an inspired adaptation on her part. Really she'd never expected things to go that well.

Then it went side-ways and Ladybug caved Chloe's head in with her yoyo.

A simple "That's enough" and suddenly the blonde bimbos supposedly empty head was splattered across everyone's TV screen before those stupid Tsurugi robots could do anything. Now Tsurugi stocks were falling almost as fast as Ladybug's reputation in the polls!

Lila should be ecstatic, but the reality Ladybug might turn that same violence on her was now a real and genuine concern and for all that Chloe was a vacuous and obnoxious tool. Lila couldn't deny seeing her skull split open, her blood flow and her brain splatter across the floor hadn't been horrifying to behold.

But Lila was a practical girl, & once Chloe was healed she calmed right down and tried to regain control of the situation. Unfortunately that proved harder than she'd have liked.

Chloe had seemingly dropped her ear piece or was just too panicked to listen because she had let out a hysterical half scream, half shout, then practically vaulted over the press and took off running. & for all Chloe lacked swift mental faculties she made up for it in legs because the press lost her almost instantly.

Still, Lila could work with this, she was adaptable after all and would play the hand she was dealt, and Chloe’s parents had certainly given her some fine cards to play.

Andre had swooped in to try and look like a grief stricken father, while somehow weaving in a reference to his plans to become a director again. Only to get counter swooped by Audrey tearing into him over divorcing herself and Chloe. Both wanted their newly sympathetic tragedy doll and fortunately for Lila neither made themselves look like remotely functional parents.

Slagging each other off even hours after the public meltdowns had started, with every scrap of dirty laundry from over a decade of marriage aired for all to see, and no real mention of their missing daughter. To say that their shameful display, compounded with Chloe’s public death had spun public sympathy towards the blonde would be an understatement.

Lila had been quick to set up an online funding campaign, for Chloe's benefit of course.

Now if she could just find the blonde she'd have her little cash cow back in its barn and could move on to trying to figure out Gabriel and Ladybug's next move -

There was a thumping on her door, followed by a tired but trill, "Let me in Lila, I have had a day."

"Chloe!" Lila cheered.

Leaping from her seat and throwing open the door she began fussing, keeping her words small, flattering and subtly guiding the blonde on exactly what to think.

"Oh my dear, exceptional, wonderfully brave friend! I saw what that monster did to you! I've been trying to reach you and find you but I knew if you would go to anyone it would be your closest and most loyal friend so I stayed here, waiting, hoping you'd come back!" Managing Chloe was easy but she required constant elaboration for understanding anything more complicated than, ‘want grab now’.

Seeing Chloe looking around the apartment hallway furtively, Lila pulled the blonde into the apartment and her embrace which the blonde slowly returned without any of her usual energy or clumsy attempts at haughtiness.

Burying her face into Lila's neck Chloe murmured, "It's nice that someone... Cares..."

"Of course I care, Chloe. Even if the world turns against you I'm here for you and I always will be." The fact Chloe's online following went from a respectable seventy two thousand to several million with donors to match certainly helped.

"The emancipation campaign, that was you right? I don't recall us sharing bank details."

Lila was used to having to swiftly reorient her deceptions but Chloe usually required so little effort to manage she maybe said too much. "I did, after the horrible things your father said I thought you deserved some resources all your own. I know you have your mother-"

"No I don't, she won't remember my name by tomorrow," Chloe's hug grew firmer, tighter. "I need that money Lila, transfer it to my private account."

Squirming, she answered, "I thought I could manage it for you, it'd be so heavy- uh, Chloe, I know you had a hard- day, ah- tight!"

Chloe's hug was like a viper constricting her upper arms to her chest and Lila could barely breath as the girl whispered.

"I need that money, you'll send it to my account. Won't you, friend?"

Panicking and unable to get away Lila accented, "Of course, of course my dear friend!" A few haphazard presses on her Alliance ring and a projected image showing her changing the fundraiser details to Chloe's account filled the otherwise dark room.

Chloe's hold slowly loosened and she pulled back enough to kiss Lila on the cheek, once, twice and then pulling away she looked her over with… Lila couldn't quite describe it.

She was used to Chloe having a sort of hazy, twitchiness about her, like one might expect of a drugged up horse. But this new expression was somehow both strangely misty and yet all too focused for the Chloe she knew.

Stepping back Chloe nodded to herself and said, "I will be staying here until I sort out a new living situation." With that declared like it was a fact the blonde made her way to Lila's bedroom.

"I, of course you can stay over Chloe, but I only have one bed."

Chloe held the door and looked at her with half lidded eyes, "Haven't you ever read fanfiction?"

'Since when can you read?' A part of her wanted to ask, but out loud Lila answered honestly for once, "I don't really read fanfiction."

The dour look Chloe sent her was usually directed at anyone but Lila & was followed with her bedroom door slamming shut.

"That was the sound of you missing your shot, but I suppose educating you will pass the time and be almost as entertaining. Order some room service, this will take awhile."

Clapping her hands she answered. "Oh I am sure you have such wisdom to share, but don't you want to get your beauty sleep?" What a relief Chloe was back to having the attention span of a goldfish.

"I am too wired to sleep, too hungry to scheme and in desperate need of a distraction." Chloe plopped down on the lounge and snatched up Lila's laptop. "So help me de-stress one way or another, or... Go clean something. You are dressed for it and the view would be more pleasant than the conversation."

'Something's changed, a lot has changed, what the hell changed!?' Lila mind was frantic even as she smiled gamely and ordered a platter of her and Chloe's favorites as the blonde poured over the laptop.

'Chloe was never that obvious with her interest, she barely ever spoke coherently for that long and normally she'd drop everything and re-shift focus if all I did was give her a compliment and promise something nice!'

Biting her tongue, Lila smiled at the delivery person before carting the food back to the plush lounge where Chloe sat cross-legged and sharp-eyed. Grabbing at her plate of sushi, Chloe turned the lap-top around to show some kind of archive website.

'Maybe Ladybug finally gave her a brain?' Lila wondered.

"Now to your education, the first trope, there was only one bed!"

Lila sighed, she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up.

Chapter 1

Lila liked to think she was a patient person.

She wouldn't be much of a plotter if she was impatient now would she?

But after a night in disguise because Ladybug might come and crack her skull open, hours fretting over trying to get her plan to rob Gabriel back on track but meeting nothing but road-blocks and now seemingly losing control over the once malleable Chloe.

Lila was more than a little stressed.

Made worse by sitting through a multi-hour long lecture on fanfiction tropes and conventions, which under other circumstances might have been useful for the insights into Chloe's psyche. But this late at night and with so many other things on her mind, the girl's penchant for enemies to lovers, redemption and childhood friendships were like droplets of water bouncing off clay.

Still, she could have bore it if not for the hour-long lecture on pseudo biology that Chloe evidently was just reading from the author notes of her 'fanfiction' like it was a legitimate text book!

So Lila lost her patience, just a smidgen when Chloe said: "It's all quite realistic really."

"Chloe, a well educated and intelligent girl like you must know this kind of thing is, as your mother would say. Utterly ridiculous."

Chloe's glare sharpened and flickered to the big billboard TV screen outside where reruns of Chloe's injury and her parents' nine hour long break up were being played side by side. "My mother would call the rising of the sun utterly ridiculous if it reflected off her martini at the wrong angle and while I'm no doctor, the author is. They know more of what they are speaking of than you do, Lila."

Her mother was a bad avenue, Lila needed to readjust, "Well I'm not sure about that, I know more than a thing or two about medicine. You remember the massage I gave you-"

"Yes, yes," Chloe said with an airy wave, "You have very talented hands, that does not give you a PHD in genetic science and viruses like the author has."

It was 1-AM and Lila had just been dismissed and talked over by someone she had previously needed to coach through pronouncing democracy and lectured as though she were the ignorant one!

‘I’ve started blood feuds over less!’

Then a voice boomed in her mind, or maybe it had been there longer than that, Lila couldn't say.

Her Alliance ring hummed and soon all she knew were the words of the Monarch, of Gabriel Agreste.

"Such vexation and venom, my Lila I promise you the power to prove yourself as wise and put this fool in their place by putting their little theory to the test!"

If Lila were more aware she'd realize Gabriel’s plan barely addressed her anger, only doing so in the most roundabout way, as though he was just using her as a vessel for some other scheme.

But Lila couldn’t think about that, could not see or sense it.

She'd never been good at resisting Akumatization after all.

So all she heard was the promise of power & vindication.

Thus she answered as she always did, "Yes, my monarch!" Lila didn't hear Chloe cursing as she flung herself off the lounge and scittered out of sight as the transformation took hold. A myriad of colors suffused Lila as her Alliance ring pulsed with arcane power.

She sent a single sharp gesture towards her laptop and the magic washed over it like locusts descending upon a field and drew from it the words that began to float drift around her right hand, slowly infusing themselves into an orb of magic and the helix within.

"I'll encode this fool's DNA-Virus into every Alliance Ring on Earth and when it fails, you will finally see that whether it's fact or fiction, lie or truth, I am your one and only authority!"

The orb engulfed Lila's hand and shrunk down into her Alliance ring, pulsing with eldritch light she raised it high and the virus was multiplied and unleashed across the world!

Then Chloe leapt onto her back, tore the Alliance ring from her finger and hurled it through the apartment window. Lila's instinctive cry of, "Noooo!" was cut off when they both hit the floor and some distant part of her registered a car driving over the ring and breaking the connection.

The heady feeling brought on by the Butterflies presence began fading with an echoing chuckle.

Chloe turned her over, all fangs and claws and growls. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" She dragged Lila's face close to hers and snarled, "I just got my brain back, and I am not letting you throw it away over something so utterly ridiculous!"

Muddy thoughts becoming clearer pieces fell into place too fast for her lips to stop, "It was Gabriel who made you..." Lila's mouth snapped shut as Chloe's eyes widened, pupils turned to pin-pricks as she violently convulsed above her before letting out a choked rasp, almost a sob.

"Gabriel... Of course... Of course it was him, it makes too much sense. The movie, the rings and robots, that day on the roof. He knew, he's always known how to twist the knife!"

Rolling with the punches, Lila answered, "I assumed you’d already figured it out if he flambeed your brain," her words came with a sort of cavalier shrug but as the pieces locked into place there was a cold, churning horror in her guts at the thought of him doing the same to her. Lila's mind was her everything if she'd been rendered to barely above a toddler like Chloe she wouldn't-

Lila cut that thought off before it could form as Chloe tightened her grip and growled, "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, what I want to know is how you knew."

A lie, even now Chloe wasn't a natural liar, even her stone-walling when Lila had tried to divert her attention from stories was blunt. The blonde was not a deceiver, that much at least remained true.

Still, Lila was flying blind as to what this new or old version of Chloe could do and with her heart thumping against her chest she decided something like honesty was the best policy.

"He used me like he used you Chloe. Why do you think those Scarlet Akuma were ready and waiting when I tried to have Marinette expelled?" She glanced away, "Not that it stopped him from throwing me away either." The bitter resentment in her tone was real enough and Chloe seemed willing to accept that much at least.

Slowly the blonde loosened her grip and lolled back up to simple kneel over Lila staring at the ceiling of the dim apartment room. As seconds drifted by Lila wanted to speak or at least get the blonde off of her but she was still feeling strangely fuzzy and flushed, her heart was racing but she couldn't bring herself to move.

She felt too hot for the cool night air.

Finally, Chloe worked through whatever it was that was holding her back and with gnashed teeth she shot to her feet, pulling Lila up with her like a rag doll and began absently brushing invisible lint off her shoulders.

"I suppose I should thank you, now I don't need to keep going in circles on whether it's Adrien or Felix who has what I need."

Without another word she turned and began marching for the door.

Confused and slightly at odds with the sudden loss of the other girls presence, Lila pursued, "What are we after?"

Chloe glanced back over her shoulder, expression flickering for a moment before a vicious sort of smirk was forced onto her lips, "Follow me and you'll find out soon enough. If not, well, you'll see once I'm done tearing Gabriel to shreds!"

The subtle growl inflecting her tone sent shivers down Lila's spine and the prospect of seeing Gabriel pay for using her and throwing her away was already tempting. The prospect he could never do to her what he'd evidently done to Chloe only sweetened the deal and was all the temptation she needed.

"Then lead on, I can't wait to see what you have for us~" God she hoped it was worth it.

"Trust me, it'll be better than anything Lady-bum and Chat-Chump could come up with, but first, we need to see an old not friend of mine."

Lila let Chloe drag her out of the apartment without even a coat, she felt warm enough as it was.

Chapter 2

Felix was not one who liked being woken suddenly, least of all by Duusu prodding at his cheek, but he grudgingly acceded to the Kwami and groaned, "What is it Duusu?"

"I sense two new presence, distantly familiar to me, and rippling with emotional intensity, young master."

"It's not Ladybug & Chat Noir is it?"

"No young master, nor any other Miraculous wielder I could name."

That ruled out his uncle and his human pet Nathalie, so Felix hoisted himself out of bed just in time for mother to push open his door, "My treasure, it seems we have guests, Chloe and a little friend of hers forced their way passed our security."

Felix snorted, "How much screaming was involved?"

His mother chuckled, "Less than you'd think, but enough to make the beginnings of a scene. It seems Chloe’s injury hasn't quenched that fiery personality."

"It'd take more than than a bucket of ice to douse a raging house fire I suppose," Felix slipped Duusu's Miraculous into his pajamas front pocket and the Kwami de-materialized as he strode down into the foyer where Chloe awaited with a faintly familiar redhead at her side.

'Lila wasn't it? Kagami and Adrien couldn't make heads or tails of her until recently, I suppose she's latched onto the last wealthy fool who will tolerate her.' Latched on was a rather fitting term for how the brunette was leaning against Chloe, an arm snaking through the blonde's and head on her shoulder.

Chloe meanwhile stood stiff as a board, a forced and mildly manic grin stretched on her features like it had been forced there by Botox as she greeted, "Felix, my dear lady Amilie, so sorry to wake you."

"Not sorry enough to wait till morning though," Felix snarked.

His mother rested a hand on his shoulder, "Not that we blame you dear, I imagine you had quite the fright yesterday, how are you now?"

A mechanical shrug as she met his eyes intensely, "As well as can be, this isn't the first time someone with magic powers decided to knock me around for some petty reason" She capped that off with a wave of her fingers as though sprinkling fairy dust on a gaping wound.

"Still," Lila cut in, "We felt it was best to get somewhere safer until something could be done about that wreck-loose Ladybug!"

"Well how flattering," His mother intoned generously. "But did you get your parents permission?" Mother, clever mother was looking for a way out that wouldn't be their fault.

Chloe strode forward, more strutted really, with the Lila girl whispering in her ear as she answered. "My parents are still tearing each other apart on live TV to the delight of the masses. I came here because when looking for security against super powers there's only so many places one can turn, Felix."

The pieces clicked into place as the night Felix had tried to cast from his memory flared to the forefront of his mind, Chloe had seen him in his Adrien guise transform and snap her out of existence!

He tried to fall into a defensive stance, Duusu's name on his lips, but Chloe had started moving before she finished speaking and snagged his front pocket. The expensive fabric couldn't hold up to her nails and was ripped asunder.

Lila flung herself bodily at his mother when she tried to intervene and sent them both to the floor. The manors security sentinels flaring to life in time to see Felix land a sharp blow across Chloe's face, but in his haste to get passed her he didn't see her roll with the motion. Turning the momentum into a devastating roundhouse kick that sent him crashing to the floor.

Felix watched helplessly as his mother tried and failed to catch Chloe's feet as the blonde pounced.

"Kwami, tell me your name!" She called, rolling and vaulting to her feet as Duusu answered the order, despite Felix's hasty calls for silence. The manors' guns flared to life, but they were too late as Chloe cried, "Duusu, transform moi!"

In a flash of ocean blues, pinks and blinding white, Chloe was transformed, her skin a dark blue, her frame taller and broader with her hair taking on a nearly stark white color. She was adorned in form fitting leggings and a sharp open collared top with a vibrant and half cape of feathers draped over her shoulder.

Chloe flicked open the fan and in a blur launched herself from the floor and across the hall with a howling, "Yeees!"

She struck down the first turret with a kick, crying out, "I am strong!"

Launching herself from the rear wall she rocketed towards the door and ripped apart the second turret, "Strong!"

She flipped through the air and cut the chandelier loose, forcing Felix to retreat backwards towards mother, while Lila watched in wicked glee as Chloe obliterated the last turret. "Strong again!"

Chloe landed before them, marble shattering beneath her feet and the last remnants of the turrets crumbling in her fingers.

Lila launched herself at the blonde and Chloe didn't even budge as Lila swung around her and snuggled up against the blonde with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, "That you are," she purred, "& so well dressed too, much better than the fop."

That drew a snort of amusement from the blonde as she came down from her high and locked her shining pink eyes on them; his mother stepped between Chloe and Felix hid the family signet ring behind his back.

"So," Chloe hummed, "That explains a lot," She held up her ring-ed hand and dread swallowed him whole even as his mother cried out, "Chloe, he's your friend!"

"My friend!?" She roared, "He snapped me out of existence, his friendship is as shiftless and unreliable as the rest of yours!"

"He saw the error of his ways, he undid it," his mother reasoned, desperately.

"Oh how convenient," Chloe rolled her eyes, "Because he was able to unbreak what he broke, all is forgiven apparently. Isn't that convenient Lila?"

The brunette giggled wickedly, "Convenient for some and not for others, a double standard one might say."

Chloe huffed, "I do say," the look she was sending them wasn't one of mere rage but one Felix recognized, seething jealousy, no doubt from the way his mother stood between him and death. He'd once relished in that distinction between them, now it might only be worsening his chances, but Felix couldn't bring himself to speak lest that dreaded snap ring out and be the last thing he heard.

Amilie fell to the floor, "Please, he's all I have," She continued despite the girl's scoff, "You aren't an evil person Chloe, there's no need for you to do this."

The blonde's fangs were gnashing, her fingers tightened, and then slackened with an aggrieved rolling of eyes. "You two really are pathetic, utterly pathetic," The scorn didn't ring true, her words sounding more aching than angered.

Lila nuzzled against Chloe, "They'd be more useful alive, so long as they keep their mouths shut."

"Hmm, I suppose," Chloe tilted her head and zeroed her gaze in on Felix again even as his mother hugged him close. "Keep this in mind going forward, if anyone finds out I have this," she motioned to the Miraculous on her lapel. "Then I will blame you.”

Her tone grew heavier, “I don't care if Kagami and Marinette somehow uncover and try to steal it, I will blame you. I don't care if Adrien figures it out I have it because his dad has almost all the others, I will blame you. I don't care if the magic stops working and everyone can see it's me. I. Will. Blame. You!"

She held her fingers up again, ready to snap, "& I promise, the fallout from that will hit your head Felix, long before it hits mine? Understood?"

He swallowed, but along with his mother nodded, "Understood."

She held a hand up to her ear, "Understood who-" She hummed. "Hmm, actually, what should I call myself? I need something beyond a queen, but Empress Peacock sounds stupid."

Lila was evidently quick on the up-take and suggested, "Imperatus, a term tying to the great emperors and empresses of Rome."

Chloe smirked and tapped the fan to her chin, "Oh I like that, Yes, Imperatus Peacock, that can work."

Finally, Felix found his voice and despite his mothers subtle beckoning said, "Chloe," he grimaced at the dual glare that met him and corrected,"… Imperatus, if you go to Gabriel with that he will just steal it."

Chloe let out a shriek of laughter, "Go to Gabriel!? Go to Hawk Moth who turned my brain into his personal playground until it was little better than play dough? No, I'm not going to give this to Gabriel. I am going to use it to make an army of Senitmonsters and have them rip that simpering, back-stabbing, wretch, limb from limb!"

Her voice echoed and resounded off the walls, the air around her suffused with energy before Chloe forcibly composed herself. With that she scooped Lila up in her arms and added, "but first, breakfast, I am famished!"

With that she leapt into the air and kicked her way through a window before leaping into the early morning light.

Felix flopped to the ground against his mother, his whole world turned upside down in mere moments, and only three words seemed fitting.

"What the hell?"

Duusu came back into being on a rooftop somewhere, the city was not yet awake even if their new holder was, stalking around both the Kwami and their newly minted manifestation.

Duusu looked over the new Sentimonster of rage and dread, it was a black and yellow creature, with red eyes, purple sclera, and a physical form akin to that of a gorilla but stretched too long and made too sharp. It was equipped with a massive jaw and subtle spikes along its hulking frame.

It was also barely thirty centimeters tall.

"Young Mistress," Duusu greeted politely, bringing the blonde to a stop as her jumbled emotions solidified behind several walls of pride and vexation.

"Ah yes, Duusu wasn't it? How do you take your meals?"

"I am partial to sweet and sour candies if it pleases you!"

The blonde nodded and pulled a small roll of sweet smelling breath mints from her purse, "I'll find you something higher quality later, Lila's apartment is swarming with reporters so we can't go back there and we need to work on making more Sentimonsters anyway."

That stopped Duusu from taking a second bite and gave time for the second mass of emotions to close the distance, bringing with her warm beverages and pre-wrapped snacks.

"Before you complain, the only thing open at this ungodly hour are vending machines," She passed a cringing Chloe her snacks and then leaned against the blonde. Breathing in her scent, Lila was sending waves of confusion and contentment in equal measure, along with a subtler mix of desire and greed.

"Where are your hands traveling?" Chloe intoned, not quite suspicious or amused but a secret third thing.

"Mine?" Lila crooned, letting them run over Chloe's chest, down her hips and snaking around her back, "Nowhere special, don't you trust me?"

Chloe scoffed, "No, I don't, it's what I like about you. I know what to expect."

There was a moment of stark shock running through Lila that was quickly engulfed as she nuzzled against the blonde’s neck, "Then this relationship might just last!" She purred.

Chloe's own emotions roiled, relief but not joy, control but not satisfaction, this was not love by any stretch. Duusu wanted to shake his head but held their tongue and let the little tit for tat continue.

"I recognize this one, it's... Smaller," Lila hummed, almost teasing as she refused to budge from where she had glued herself to Chloe's side.

"It is, but that can change, show her." Chloe's instructions were met with the Sentimonster letting out a tiny roar before slamming both fists against the roof, the force fed back into its frame and it swelled in size and strength.

"Oh it's a grower, not a shower, how clever!" Lila cheered.

"Ugh so vulgar, but yes, it's much better than that one Gabriel made me. I think you deserve a more fitting name no? Seeing as you'll be taking down a monarch, how about Recigider? Regina for short." The Sentimonster thumped fists against its chest and roared in approval. "Perfect, you'll be the one to lead my army on Gabriel's rancid little compound."

"Young Mistress," Duusu intoned gravely as they swallowed the last of their mint, "as much as I too wish to see the Monarch fall, I must warn you there are limits to this power."

"Limits? Since when?!" Chloe groused, rage and offense cloaked a bone deep fear.

"Since you do not have the Butterfly to help supply you with excess energies or trans-formative properties, the Sentimonsters will be purer and far more reliant on ‘us’ alone to work."

Chloe stared, blinking in a slow, uncomprehending manner before beckoning them to elaborate.

"Young Mistress, the variety and flexibility of my emotional manifestations was born from my union with the Butterfly. Without its powers, You will only create either weak Sentimonsters from minor emotions, or identical Senitmonsters, with perhaps slight variances based on your emotional state."

He could already see the wheels turning in her head and pressed on.

"What's more, a Sentimonster like this is akin to a familiar of myth, it directly connects to the Amok and to you. It draws a degree of vitality from you, that is what makes them such ideal protectors. But having too many can exhaust you. The strain can be lessened by using others as a basis for the Senitmonster but only if they keep the Amok and even then, there are limits..."

Chloe was gritting her teeth, rage bubbling inside her. Regicider began slamming its fists to the roof, roaring and swelling in size until Lila short-circuited Chloe's emotional episode with a kiss. Regina froze, as if Blue-Screening, Duusu had once heard it called. Chloe was not much better before shaking her head and taking several deep breaths, almost drinking in Lila's scent and... Not being soothed, but calmed at least.

Chloe pulled back, confused at her own actions even while Lila hung on equally confused but lost in her own hazy thoughts for the moment. ‘How queer,’ the Kwami mused.

Swallowing, Chloe looked to Duusu, "If that's true, how am I meant to take down Gabriel when he has all the other Miraculous? & don't tell me to team up with Ladybug and Chat Noir, that ship sailed!"

"Well Young Mistress, I believe the saying is, the right tool for the right job, You already have a fine war hammer-"

"But you need something sneakier first," Lila purred, "Think of it, something that could slip into Gabriel's little Parisian Palace and pilfer every power he has." A wicked smirk spread on her face, fear and revelry and ambition all mingling into a sordid soup. "Imagine making him as scared and confused as he must have made you and watching him twist in the wind, then finally crushing him."

Anger stoked and pride nettled, Chloe nodded, "Let's hope you're Akuma is as sneaky as you then." She reluctantly pulled away from Lila and marched over to her Sentimonster, the creature obediently handed back the Peacock Miraculous.

As Chloe fitted the jewelry to her jacket she added, “By the way, Duusu. Did Adrien know of his fathers schemes?”

“No, my former holders did not, as far as I know, inform him of their plans.”

Chloe frowned but nodded, “Very well then I guess I’ll leave him be, frankly he should be thanking me once all this is over. For now though. Duusu, transform moi!”

& Duusu was once again suffused with their new handler.

Even as magical power filled her form and enhanced her frame, Chloe felt tired.

She’d been sleeping terribly for weeks and since waking up from her untimely death hadn't slept at all.

A part of her was afraid to sleep, to relax enough to let go of even some of the simmering rage keeping her up. Afraid to wake up and see her mind returned to that hazy miasma from which fits of awareness had been all too brief. Maybe if she destroyed Gabriel she’d feel better, safer.

A quiet part of Chloe doubted it.

As the bursting light faded Lila was now visible to her again but in two layers, emotions and physically.

Technically three if the faint sense of cocoa powder on coffee was indeed Lila's scent but Chloe couldn't be sure she wasn't imagining that. & frankly she didn’t have the where with all to deal with the implications of that if it were true. The emotional spectrum was already too much to parse. A blend of desire and confusion, fear and hunger, cold withdrawal and almost primal intensity all at war with one another.

It was so different to how Aimilie’s love and Felix's fear registered so clearly and so strongly, almost overwhelming. In truth Chloe couldn't have killed them if she tried. 'Which just makes Gabriel being able to do what he's done even worse!' That righteous indignation clicked her mind back into gear and she sent her partner in crime a smirk, a single feather offered to her like a ring.

"Let's make a monster together~"

Lila faux giggled behind her hand, cheeks surprisingly vibrant as she revealed a fox-tail styled pendant, “So forward, but who could resist such a charming offer,” she purred.

With a sharp flick of her wrist, Chloe loosed the feather into the necklace. The amulet pulsed and shone, Chloe could feel it in real time as Lila's predatory hunger blended with cautious wariness sprung from her form and were shaped into the form of a looming fox.

Easily as large as a horse with one then several and then one again tails. Its colors were darker than Chloe thought foxes came in, a closer match to Lila's almost maroon hair and its features while vulpine had an unmistakably off lilt to them that belied an almost human structure and with it, intelligence.

"Oh you are beautiful, to be expected from our work," Lila cooed, stroking the beasts head which welcomed it with a pleased rumble.

"Refined looking certainly," Chloe squinted as she tried to interpret the waves of sensations as facts but Lila did the heavy lifting for her here as she tapped the necklace and the Senitmonsters began to blend into the surroundings until it was almost invisible, save if one knew where to look.

"Oh that's perfect, did you have a name in mind?" She asked as Lila trotted over to her, pleased as punch with herself.

"Vulpin-X, the hunter and thief of game in the king's forest."

"Very fitting," Chloe took Lila's hand and twirled the girl around, "And large enough to carry us wherever we want to go before we send them after our prey."

That peeked the other girl's interest, "What about Regina Regicider the first? She's rather... big," Lila leaned against her as she said that, appreciative hands running across Chloe's Miraculous enhanced shoulders.

"Regina, release," Chloe ordered and was obeyed.

The Sentimonster opened its mighty maw and unleashed a wave of golden energy into the sky, shrinking as they did so back to pocket sized where-upon it clambered up her arm to rest on her shoulder.

Lila chuckled devilishly, nuzzling Chloe's neck, "We make a perfect team, Gabriel won't know what hit him."

Chloe relished for a moment in the touch she had starved for from anyone for so long, even as a part of her tuned out how her own body felt like it should be responding more, differently. Her efforts to parse the blend of bafflement, lust, primal greed and genuine joy in Lila's mind was no simpler and she finally gave up as the Miraculous began to beep.

Regina obediently snatched it up and hid the magical item in its maw of steel.

Duusu reappeared and welcomed the remainder of Chloe's breath mints with a smile, while Chloe and Lila mounted up on Vulpin-X's back and Regina sat atop the foxes head alongside Duusu. As they took off across the roof-tops the pair discussed the beginnings of their plan.

"We can't go back to your apartment, it's been swarmed by my parents goons and reporters."

"Well we can't be too close to Agreste Manor, what if he senses the Peacock?"

"So we need somewhere to hide out."

"While Vulpin-X scopes things out."

Chloe smirked, "I know a place."

The fact that place was school and Lila was adorably huffy about it was icing on the cake, though it hardly stopped the brunette from leaning against Chloe as they both drifted off to sleep at their desk well before classes began.

Regina was safely hidden away out of sight in Chloe's bag and dozing like its master and Duusu, while Vulpin-X took to the streets of Paris, nothing more than a ghostly shimmer as it slowly made its way to Agreste manor as Paris began to wake on the dawn of a new day, in more ways than one.

Chapter 3

Caline Bustier arrived at work late, but she was hardly the only one feeling under the weather in the school alone. She’d arrived to find Olga fiddling with the keys and dabbing at her sweaty forehead along with several other exhausted looking staff members.

Caline could easily attribute her own symptoms to pregnancy and the utterly nightmarish day she’d had. For everyone else though… Well it was either a rapid and sudden flu on-set or maybe she was nott the only one miserably stressed by what happened the day before.

One of her students, yes one who had broken her heart a little, but still a child was struck down in a bloody display and Caline could, would never forget that horrific sight. But also the responsible one’s panicked and childish words, "I didn't- she was just- I thought- this was an accident!" said between sobs as her partner dragged away.

Chloe had never looked so terrified as when she was restored and Ladybug had never sounded so young and Caline... Caline didn't know what to do about any of it. Frankly it was all she could do to pull herself from her wife's cool and soothing presence because the kids might need her.

'If this sudden flu hasn't kept everyone at home,' she thought, passing by another teacher bundled up in three coats and shivering still.

Mind swirling as she tried to think about what to say about what transpired in the mayors office, everything came to a grinding halt as Caline opened the door to her classroom, "Chloe?" The name escaped her lips before she could stop herself at the spectacle before her.

Chloe and Lila of all people bundled up at one of the front desks and dozing atop one another.

Caline was frozen in place, genuine joy and dreadful uncertainty side by side inside her mind. Memories of trying to reach Chloe and failing, of what inspired her worry and the ensuing disappointment running wild. Let alone her own shame at being duped by the machinations of a fifteen year old in Lila and yet-

'They came here to hide, they are children, this is a classroom and... and I am their teacher.'

Resolve affirmed, Bustier stepped inside and despite her efforts to be quiet, Chloe shot up like a bullet, her bag rustling at her feet while Lila let out a keening whine and dragged herself up Chloe's body only half awake.

"Chloe I-" Bustier froze as Chloe's hand shot out.

The blonde stared her down intently, gaze strangely focused and familiar as she said, "Madame, I am glad to see you back," as if by wrote. "Yesterday's spectacle was... Unwarranted. I have not been myself for some time, and while it would have behooved you to notice, it was out of your hands." She swallowed, "I think it best that we try and run out the rest of this year in peace, no?"

Chloe offered Bustier her hand, with only a subtle sign of trepidation.

Bustier took it but did not shake, instead cradling Chloe's hands in her own.

"I appreciate you saying that Chloe and I just want to say how glad I am you're healed. I hope that we can both try for something better than merely passing the rest of this semester by, but any step forward we both take is a good one in my reckoning. Even if we stumble."

Chloe was watching her intently, her gaze flickered to her bag and back again before she squeezed back and nodded, "Well, let's see what the morning brings."

"Let's," Rising to her full height, Bustier added, "Now, can I fetch you girls something to drink?"

Adrien was exhausted, stressed and miserable, a far cry from radiant, carefree or dreamy.

He'd been lucky to have gotten any sleep the night before, not that it had lasted, anxiety and dreadful dreams of crimson red forcing him awake before even his father. Suffice to say, Adrien had opted against giving the man a pretext to keep him in and slipped out early.

Every day away from home might be his last after all.

Lingering anxieties about London, his fathers ever increasing ambitions and near mania were running in the back of his mind. But taking lead over them were the events of the day prior.

He knew, he finally knew Ladybug's true identity and it was Marinette, his girlfriend. He should be over the moon, it was everything he could ever want. To know that the person she’d been pining for so long had evidently been him? By all rights he should be ecstatic.

Save that he found out because a careless act of anger led to her accidentally killing someone. To that act being seen by millions. To her spiraling into a panicked tempest of guilt and dread, frantically trying to undo it and revealing herself to him in the process.

Adrien wasn't even sure Marinette realized she did it, he would have told her had he the presence of mind, would have confessed himself if he didn't fear it would only make things worse. Instead, after assuring himself Chloe survived he had to focus all his energy on keeping Marinette from fragmenting.

Hours spent cajoling, comforting and oh so carefully making sure she never had the chance to simply renounce guardianship to himself or Alya paid off with Marinette's memory still being intact if not her will. The Ladybug earrings now rested with Alya, convinced her friend had merely slipped up due to stress and sharing Chat’s view that Marinette should not, and frankly could not, surrender guardianship given how much knowledge would be lost.

He’d passed by the bakery as Chat Noir on the way into school and seen Marinette sluggishly being guided around by Alya. He could have gone in as Chat, but that would stress her. He could have gone by as Adrien, save he wouldn’t be able to explain himself.

So instead, he just left, and hoped he could see her soon.

Mind returning to the moment as Adrien walked up the schools steps, he remembered his first day, of all the expectations and hopes which had somehow both been fulfilled and others that had been left hollow as his mind drifted to Chloe.

His childhood friend turned... Not friend.

A girl who had been a constant companion until she wasn't, who his mental image of had shifted and broken over and over again across a single school year. Someone who he knew could be cruel, but also could never forget having stayed when his family fell apart and kept his head above water.

He had tried to find her, to call her, but it had amounted to nothing and if he had gotten through what would he have said, have done? He couldn't answer that question and a part of Adrien hoped he wouldn't need to find the answer just yet.

But it never rained when it could pour and as Adrien opened the door to class his feet felt like anvils as he saw Chloe and Lila of all people sitting on their desk. Lila practically snuggling up to a mildly perturbed looking Chloe as they both nursed warm drinks.

Both of them were also now staring at him intently, Lila’s expression one of mock amusement he was sure obscured annoyance. While Chloe’s expression fluttered wildly through an array of emotions he could barely place before she sculled her mug and returned it with a firm clink to the desk.

'Say something. There's nothing to say. Do something. There's nothing to do. I can't just do nothing!'

He tried to open his mouth but it tasted like bile and no sounds came out.

‘The girl I love killed her.’

It was an accident, he knew it was an accident, anyone with a brain could see it was an accident!

He looked at Chloe again, the image of her blonde hair matted and stained in crimson and gore-

Adrien looked away, a full body shudder overtaking him as he tried to quell the guilt and shame.

‘Did I cause it? I was upset with Chloe, I wanted her to just go away, to stop all this. Did my bad luck break the Ladybug’s good luck?’ Did he somehow will it to happen so he could consign his memory of her to a peaceful grave in his mind as he had done to his own mother?

Adrien tried to meet her gaze again, the memory of the day before, of the break, and the blood, and-

“Adrien,” Chloe finally said, her tone was… firm in the way cracking ice was hard and it forced him to look at her, as much as he could stand to.

“Chloe, I’m-”

She interrupted him, her words halting and stiff. “I apologize, for trying to get you thrown out of school, that was miss-spent effort at best.”

With that she met his gaze for a moment and then turned away, not huffy exactly, not even angry, not much of anything. Or more, too many things she barely seemed to be keeping under her skin as she glared a hole in the wall.

It was all so mundane and just… Strange that it actually buoyed him, for just a moment, long enough to finally gather his thoughts from the miasma of his mind.

“Consider it water under the bridge, things like that can come and go between us easily enough. I'm just glad you were healed after," he wanted to say accident, but settled on, "what happened yesterday."

She took his words and seemed to roll them around in her head before scoffing, "I seem to have a talent for drawing ire from powerful people."

The splatter of blood and brain was back, it all came rushing back to squash that small kernel of mundane relief. He wanted to say something, anything to quench the fire he could practically feel coming on, but he wasn’t Chat Noir right now. Who could ramble and amble and chatter through even the worst of circumstances.

He was just Adrien and he couldn’t find his voice.

So he retreated to his desk, faintly aware of Lila whispering In Chloe’s ear, lips trailing along tanned skin.

Chloe remained silent

Marinette kept her head down as she walked and tried to keep her ears closed. Alya, sweet, loyal Alya kept up a good amount of chatter on the most inane topics from their home-work, to the bakery’s goods. Even with her phone blowing up and doubtless endless drama and rage on the Ladyblog forums-

Alya bumped her hip against Marinette’s, “Don’t get lost in your own head now girl.”

Marinette swallowed, “Yeah, you’re right, I can’t lose focus for even a second, ow, ow, sorry!” Alya released her ear.

“Not what I said and going completely against what we discussed last night,” Alya pulled her into an over the shoulder hug. “You need to let yourself rest and re-calibrate.”

Marinette saw a flicker of bloody red out of the corner of her eyes and dug her hands deeper into her pockets leaning against Alya all the more, her words low.

“That’s easier said than done, especially with where we’re going, I mean, just imagine what everyone will be thinking and Chloe might be there! I mean I hope she’s OK, she is OK, I know she is but at the same time-”

“You’re not sure how to handle seeing her? I can’t say I get it like you did, but I get it. But hey she’s apparently still in the wind, so that’s… Something?” Alya ventured.

“Its worse!” She hissed. “At least when Chloe’s in front of me I’d know she was healed and could do something,” Maybe even say something but Marinette never got passed. I am sorry I killed you, I keep seeing it replay every time I close my eyes and feel really bad but it was an accident and you just make me so mad and I forgot I had super powers for a second and it was an accident but-

Alya gave her a companionable shake again and Marinette forced herself back into the moment as they marched up the steps and towards their classroom. Before they could go in however they were ambushed by Zoe and Sabrina, both girls looking as dreadful as Marinette felt.

Sabrina was flushed and pink and looked, frankly exhausted and like she’d been crying on and off. Ribs constricted against her chest in guilt. Zoe looked marginally better, her jacket was done up however and she looked pale and weary.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here,” Zoe murmured, “Are you OK? You look-” she caught herself and said “Under the weather,” while Sabrina fidgeted nervously at her side, be-speckled gaze drifting towards their class door and back again.

Alya spoke for her, “I don’t think a lot of us got much sleep last night, add in a cold and helping me cool down from ‘everything’ on the forums last night and we’re both kind of out of it.”

Marinette looked between the pair and filed in the blanks, “Chloe’s here isn’t she?”

Sabrina nodded, a choked sound escaping her lips, “She came here to hide even though she hates school. This is all my fault.”

Zoe wrapped an arm around the girl and pulled her closer, “Its not your fault everything’s a mess.”

‘Its my fault and I need to fix it, I just don’t know how!’

Every time she had tried to fix Chloe it blew up in her face, her mother, the macaroons, Queen Bee, the party, the movie! Did some of those even count? Marinette didn’t know anymore!

Perhaps seeing her spiral, Alya cut in, “Hiding, did something else happen? I mean, we saw your parents meltdown, are you OK?”

Zoe shrugged, “Its been… Enlightening. I really thought Andre was different than my mother, that he was just a poor guy she brow-beat into following her every whim.”

The, ‘& Chloe was spoiled as a result’ went unsaid as Zoe continued.

“But after seeing them tear into each other last night…” she bit her lip and shook her head, “Andre can look after himself. It seems like he’s good at that,” bitterness practically wafted off her words. “Trying to get him to find his recently revived daughter though? That was a no go and I gave up,” she shrugged and otioned at the redhead to her side. “I found Sabrina when looking for Chloe and we decided to pool our resources.”

Sabrina was hugging herself even tighter at those words, murmuring, “We should have kept looking.”

“Hey, we didn’t know she’d go to her of all people-”

“Well we should have-”

Marinette needed to stop the fight, “Well you tried,” her voice was cracking. “That’s the important thing, the effort spent, I’m sure she will appreciate that, probably, maybe. Definitely!” She stressed with as much enthusiasm as she could manage.

Both girls were looking at her strangely now, but even then their minds seemed elsewhere.

Marinette had to see inside that room, now.

She ducked around the pair and peaked inside only to start slipping under under her own discombobulation save for Alya grabbing her backpack. She pulled her back but not before Marientte caught sight of Adrien who looked so sullen it made her ill with dread. & more, saw Chloe, a rictus glare on her lips as she glared a hole in the wall. While snuggled up at her side like a viper coiling around its prey was Lila.

“Lila’s back?!” She nearly shrieked but kept it low, just a little, almost silent scream. “Wasn’t she expelled? Was she involved in what happened yesterday with the robots?” Could this all somehow be Lila’s fault, that would be nice, but Marinette wasn’t that lucky.

Sabrina and Zoe shared a mutual shrug before the redhead answered, “I don’t know, maybe, she’s done nothing but make things worse since she showed up and she still has her claws in Chloe.”

“Not for nothing,” Alya intoned gently, “but they were working together.”

“You don’t get it!” Sabrina rasped out, only stilling when Zoe clasped her shoulders and murmured something to the flushed face girl, who took several deep breaths. “You don’t though, I know, I know how people see Chloe, I know how… Intense she can be. But she never used to be… That intense. Not until Lila showed up.”

Zoe rolled her shoulders, “Apparently the closet was a new arrangement?”

The Non sequitur threw Marinette but Sabrina was building steam again, “We used to hang out, watch shows, play games, we were friends and things were actually getting even better for awhile. But then everything started going wrong, and this year turned into a nightmare.” Sabrina started sobbing again and basically collapsed against Zoe who looked equal parts worried, oddly used to it and put out.

Patting her back, Zoe added, “Look, I know you two don’t have any reason to like her but… I got a second chance at this school and well. If Chloe’s not run back to our parents yet, I think she might see what I do now. That mom’s not worth fighting for, her father can’t be trusted and that neither of them are people to imitate.”

Alya hummed, arms folded, “Well they did make asses of themselves, still are last time I saw the news, even Chloe could see that. But I’m not sure what you want us to do about it, we aren’t exactly Chloe’s favorite people.”

“We know,” Zoe assured, “But you two are brilliant and we thought you could maybe help us come up with a plan? I want to just go up to her and say like. Things can change, you can change, we can actually be sisters and not just our mothers imitators.”

Sabrina let out a hiccup, “I just want to tell her I’m glad she’s OK, but I don’t know if she’ll want to see me and… And…”

“You’re scared she’ll reject you,” Marinette murmured, entirely lost on what to feel. Her mind working in a dozen different directions as she tried to process all that and somehow not keep circling back tot he bloody affair that inspired it.

Zoe nodded, “There is that and with Lila there….I knew girls like her back in New York, even if Chloe sees how empty our parents are that liar still has her claws in my sister and will try and keep Chloe all to herself.”

Thing clicked into place, a solution, a plan, a something to do that could make things better!

Marinette grabbed both girls wrists and pulled them close, “So what you need is to get Chloe alone where Lila can’t trick her is what I’m hearing.” Both nodded uncertainty while Alya tapped her on the shoulder.

“Girl were we not just discussing how overwhelmed you’ve been lately, plus you and Chloe... There’s history there,” she finished uncomfortably.

Yes, history, years of bullying, resentment and a murder, but that was the past and Ladybug and not Marinette and this was something she could do, could fix, that maybe could make things better!

“Don’t worry Alya, this is-”

Madame Bustiers cheery voice cut off her thought., “Good morning girls,” Their teacher intoned gently as she stepped out of the door tot heir class.

“Madame,” Marinette’s voice may have cracked, “You’re back! I mean of course you’re back, I just mean its very good you’re back, I should ave brought you a cupcake!” Was she rambling it felt like she was rambling.

Bustier gently dabbed at her flushed brow and smiled serenely, “That’s quite all right Marinette, your enthusiasm is more than enough.” She looked to Zoe, “Ms Lee, I believe your class will begin soon, I promise to look after everyone in class, so you can rest easy and focus on learning.”

Zoe’s anxious expression and manner bled away like it was never there, “Thank you Madame,” she rested a hand On Serena’s shoulder, “I’ll be back when lunch starts.” Accepting a second clingy hug from the girl that both seemed unhappy to break, Zoe raced down the halls.

Bustier looked over them and gently patted Sabrina’s hair, “Alya would you mind showing Sabrina to her chair? I need to speak with Marinette for a moment.”

‘I’ve been had! Done-so! She’s knows!’ Marinette’s anxious mind screamed as she went stiff as a board, electricity short-circuiting her brain matter.

“Sure thing Madame, I assume you want to talk to Marinette about our returning redhead and recently resurrected blonde?”

Madame Bustier merely smiled placidly, an ever so subtle nod indicating Alya’s accurate assessment as she let the two girls pass her by before resting a gentle hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

‘This is about Chloe, who you killed, by accident but-’

“Marrinete, given everything that’s happened over… Frankly too long of a time, I understand if you will be uncomfortable with some of your classmates.” She gave Marinette’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I just want to assure you that Chloe insisted she intends to run out the rest of the school year in peace and that there should be no… Outside interference in our classes proper running and that. But if you have a problem bring it to me straight away, I will handle it, I promise.”

‘Oh, it was that kind of talk,’ Marinette’s anxious energy fled her body as swiftly as it arrived and she nearly felt like doubling over, her whole brain and body feeling fuzzy and tingly at the same time.

“Marinette are you feeling well?” Bustier asked urgently.

Perking up, Marinette grinned, “Just tired Madame and don’t worry I can handle Chloe,” Perhaps too well, or too terribly or not at all really.

Bustier squeezed her shoulder again, “You are a student its not your responsibility to handle these matters, leave it to me and just focus on yourself all right? You aren’t responsible for fixing every little thing.” She chuckled, “Leave some work for the rest of us OK?”

Marientte wasn’t sure if she could fix anything right now, but she did know that Bustier was wrong about one thing. It was Marinette’s job to fix things. She just needed to figure out how.

Still, she smiled warmly and answered, “Thank you Madam, I will keep that in mind.” -

Chloe’s sunglasses were a long time favored accessory.

Sturdy but stylish, they could be lowered strategically to protect from the bright lights obviously but also to convey everything from scorn to thoughtfulness if placed juuuust right. They also were large and dark enough that it was hard to tell exactly where she was looking.

An excellent way to avoid dealing with head-ache inducing eye contact, stare down a plunging neck-line but most of all, very helpful for eyeing Alya’s new accessories. The brunette gently guided Sabrina, Chloe felt her throat tighten at the sight but said nothing as Cesair led her towards one of the chairs at the back of the room. Chloe instead turned to the door, watching for Marinette’s arrival.

When the girl finally stepped through into class Chloe felt something dreadful un-clench in her chest at the sight of Marinette bereft her ear rings. Even as her nails dug into the desk as the flashing of a yoyo rolled through her memory, the last sound she heard before a crack and squelching of flesh and-

Chloe kept it bottled up and held back. Marinette and Ladybug could-

Lila was whispering in her ear.

“With your new power imagine all we can do to here,” she purred.

Chloe’s body vibrated at the other girls touch, sound and scent, but she kept herself still as ice, easy given her temperature felt like it was sinking with every moment even as something inside her roiled and ached.

Lila was still purring some seductive promise of petty revenge in her ear and Chloe stilled the brunette with a low rumble from her throat. Turning her attention ever so briefly to Lila she traced her fingers over her necklace and saw the Agreste Manor interior through her Sentimonster’s eyes.

“Don’t you think we have more important things to deal with than schoolyard feuds?” Lila pouted but quickly turned her attention back to the Amok with devilish glee.

Madame Bustier was beginning her lesson and Chloe forced herself to take a calming breath.

‘Her little cure did fix whatever Gabriel did to me, even if it was an accident that deserves a temporary reprieve from our little war.’ Once Gabriel was dealt with however Chloe knew there could only be a few ends to a war like theirs.

Treaty, surrender or mutually assured destruction.

It remained to be seen which they’d would pick.

NOTES:

I decided to finally say screw it and just publish it here and see what happens. There's a none virus version somewhere in my head too, but I kept bouncing between the cracky virus idea and the none virus version and didn't wanna write both and someone can use the framework from the virus AU for a none Virus one anyway.

#text post #fanfic #fanfiction #mlb #mlb fandom #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #miraculous au #chloe bourgeois #lila rossi #Crack taken Seriously #I get weird with this one fam #Chlolila

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hsficrecommendation · 1 year ago

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Hello Everyone! This is masterlist #4 (June of 2023!) for the all fics I have reblogged on this side blog I hold super close to me. Remember to leave feedback and reblog all the writings below!

Also, a huge thank you to all the writers mentioned, I adore you so very much and I hope you keep writing for yourselves <3

••• JUNE •••

Valentine's Day | Y/N receives a special candy gram on Valentine’s Day. - @nationalharryleague

French Fries | Harry kept glancing at her as he drove. “M’sorry about our date,” he whispered. “I don’t know what you’re apologizing for,” she shrugged and reached over to squeeze his arm while he held the steering wheel. “I had a lovely time.” - @1d1195

Shy | Close | Motherly Love | Don't Leave Me | Mother's Day | ♡ When Harry runs into a perfect stranger at a supermarket, he doesn’t know what to expect. After having been single for over a year and raising Amelia without a mother, dating somebody new feels impossible… that is, until she wins over the heart of his daughter. - @harry-writings

Vogue Beauty Secrets | Actress!Y/N does the Vogue Beauty Secrets video, and Harry decides to help. - @astranva

Gonna be Better in the Morning | Jeff and reader get into a fight and Harry takes Jeff's side. (As always, there is a happy ending with lots of comforts) - @harryhoney-bee

Work of Art | A cute little fluffy artist!Harry piece with a hint of angst! - @nationalharryleague

Update | The Best Present | Harry falls for a mysterious girl from YouTube. - @watchmegetobsessed

When The Levee Breaks | You're a waitress and Harry is being stood up. - @songbirdstyles

Playball | ♡ The reader owns a bakery and hates baseball, but what happens when her town’s bigshot MLB player walks into her bakery and she finds herself catching feelings unaware of his occupation? - @writingsbymarie

The Con Artist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | ♡ You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you- he finds it difficult to resist your charms. - @gurugirl

Baby Steps | You’re Harry’s son's therapist, and he isn’t the only one you end up helping. - @enthusiasticharry

Mute | ♡♡ Where Harry doesn’t talk and falls in love with Y/n. - @harry-writings

Score and Smash | In which their university holds an annual boy vs girl football match, the highly anticipated game of the year has arrived and Harry and Y/N hate each other just as equally until Y/N is under Harry.

Quid Pro Quo | Another lawyer!Harry. Technically six years before this piece. Enemies to lovers with plenty of angst! - @talesofstyles

Six Months (Part 23) | ♡ Layla desperately needs a vacation and her Aunt and Uncle come to her rescue. So, at twenty two, she packs her bag and jets off to America. Harry took a break from education and is now a full fledged content creator on OnlyFans. At twenty, he makes more money than almost all of his friends. What ensues when these two meet and realise the windows in their rooms face each other? How will paper airplanes bring them closer together? - @fishnets-fingers

2022 : Masterlist #1 , #2 , #3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. 2023 : Masterlist #1, 2, 3 (June masterlist would be continued in the next list!)

My official writing account in case you'd like to check out my fics too: @0oolookitsme :)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fic rec #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic recommendation #fic rec #harry styles fan fic #harry styles au #harry styles concept

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starlightwoofwoof · 23 hours ago

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okay so ……. why do I always say that when I begin posts- anyway

so I really wanted to put all my Glisten/Perfect ideas I have for my DW x MLB AU in one post because I feel like I talk about them too much- I love talking about them but yeah, I need to talk more about other characters lol

First of all, let’s talk about nightmares

Now, Glisten does seem to have nightmares normally, as seen in his interaction with Astro, which I’m extremely curious of what they’re specifically about-

but in this AU, because of Perfect’s sheer existence, he started almost immediately having them a little more often after Perfect’s defeat, and they were somehow even scarier than his previous ones (until Astro was tired of it and stepped up, of course)

This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot- I like to think Glisten’s first nightmare after his akumatization started normal at first. He’s basically on a runway with the other toons in the audience, and he’s showing off a new fabulous outfit and everyone’s hyping him up

until Glisten hears a giggle from behind the curtains backstage

“Alright, alright, we’ve had enough of ‘admiring’ you. Make way for the real star of the show!”

Perfect shows up and brings up his vanity mirror and everyone directs their attention to him instead due to ✨ magic ✨

and then Perfect bullies the crap out of Glisten yadda yadda yadda-

I haven’t thought of anything beyond that but I like to think it got really spooky and trippy- cause to be fair, dreams can get very weird sometimes

lol sorry idk why I went full fanfic mode for a split second there uh

anyway, next

who wants lore noooooooottttttteeeeeesssssss-

okay, one more thing, I’ve yapped too much already lol

sooooooo I got a comment on Perfect’s original post about how Glisten and Perfect’s ordeal was Midnight Sparkle from MLP Equestria Girls Legends of Everfree Core ……… and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I don’t think because that was exactly what I was going for

and so I was like “you know what frick it” and I redrew that one scene in the movie that everyone made bases of and all that-

this looks incredibly weird without context I hope you know what I’m talking about-

man all of this kinda makes me want to give this dynamic to other characters, honestly, definitely not on Glisten/Perfect’s level but I think it would be kinda cool-

one more thing, thank you guys for all the DW x MLB fanart recently!! I appreciate it a lot and I hope to see more :] 💙✨

okay I think that’s enough for now lol okie byeeeeeeeee

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jack-of-heartstrings · 2 years ago

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I hear you, and I'm sorry you've had to deal with this. It's honestly so ridiculous, because a lot of the same people will turn around and be totally fine with or even positive toward the same kind of obsessive interest in other things. Look at like... the elitism in a lot of older Mainstream Nerd Media(TM), like Star Wars or Marvel/DC comics for example, where you get the opposite problem of people gatekeeping unless they deem someone obsessed enough with their thing. Or like, you know, Sports Fans and how all-consuming that can get. But sure, being into stories we find interesting is totally different and inferior just because they happen to be animated and written in a way that's easily accessible to younger audiences. No double standards there! [/sarcasm]

Anyway you're very valid and tons of cartoons slap. And you know, even if a show IS "bad", at times or just in general, you can still find it fun or comforting or otherwise enjoy it for whatever reasons. People need to chill and let others enjoy stuff in peace, damn.

not to pull the "wahhh im autistic!" card everytime ppl make fun of me for liking a kids cartoon but. its very. in my actual experience. in my own personal experience as an autistic person, who has struggled so much due to it, really hurtful when people put down me for liking a kids show, as if im "stupid" and cant comprehend things. sometimes i cant comprehend basic things, yknow, the autism, childrens shows have always helped me during meltdowns, have helped me articulate emotions and get through things. thats pretty integral to my experience w autism. i watch adult shows, i read adults books, actual adult stuff, i do not post much about it, but thats just a personal preference as someone who mainly posts about the childrens centric things i like, i do sometimes but. yknow. its just not my Main Thing online.

i know its tired to say "dont make fun of that guy for liking a baby show hes autistic" but itslike. you shouldnt either way really. and also people who deflect this wanting to make fun of people more. itslike. does your solidarity with autistic ppl really end when theyre a bit too into a kids show. thats a litte pathetic.

in my experience, i do genuinely get upset and defensive to an embarassing degree when people make fun of the kids show i like, but i think its a little warranted when a lot of that making fun does imply that people are stupid or have the minds of children. i am an adult who struggles really hard with adult things too, i just also happen to like a kids show, and i get pretty sad when people are mean about it intentionally.

#i haven't been keeping up with this blog but I've damn sure been keeping up with MLB #And like... God damn #I can have critical opinions at times but that will never stop me from praising and defending the many things it does so well #Yes it's silly! Yes the writing is very rough or unfortunate in a few episodes! Yes some of the drama is contrived at times!#Also almost everyone is kind of stupid (/affectionate) but that's because Félix owns like 90% of the world's braincells okay 😩#None of that changes how extremely well done other parts are or how much fun it is or how wildly intricate the lore gets #People who only focus on the flaws or don't even give it a chance because cartoon are missing out tbh #reblog talk

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sheyfu · 10 months ago

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》 even with all the sae in my mind, miyuki kazuya is still no. 1 in my heart 😭😭😭; another silly thought with miyuki kazuya from ace of the diamond; literally one of my comfort animes ahu ahu ahu 😓😓; fluff/comedy; you guys fight over the blanket (you love e/o dearly tho); (implied) mlb!kazuya (bro is your husband); no specified gender; wcc 555; read for a banger 🙏🙏

nights are never dull with miyuki kazuya. said nights include staying up well past midnight playing console games, gossiping about random couples you saw in his game a while ago, and something as simple as fighting over the blanket.

well, this night is definitely one of those.

“stop moving i'm about to fall off the bed!” you complain.

“it's not my fault it's damn cold, who set the ac to 16 degrees anyways?!” miyuki quips.

him and his stupid brain. “you, stupid!” you say as you pull the blanket over to your side with all your strength.

it had been a very hot day which meant a very hot room in your shared apartment. while outside felt a bit cooler with the wind, the inside felt like hell. so here you both are snuggled up in your king size bed fighting over a stupid blanket because some stupid guy who plays baseball set the temperature to 16 degrees and left the ac remote on a very far table in the room. of course, neither of you plan to get out of the bed and walk those ten steps. amazing, right? yeah. definitely one of the worst nights with him 0/10, -1090200 aura points. never doing this again.

you felt a jab on your chest. “hey! watch it, stupid”

“it's not my fault you're hogging the blanket!” he complains.

you take deep breathes to calm yourself before threatening him with a white lie, “okay you know what just because of that im going to sleep in the bathroom.”

then you heard it. he whines. miyuki kazuya whines and kicks his feet like a little toddler. “don't! it's cold and you're going to leave your poor and lonely husband here?! what a traitor!” he turns away from you and hugs the blanket closer to him.

great, he’s sulking now. and worse, he has the blanket.

you sigh deeply, agitated with the way he's acting. yet, it's very endearing.

what a doofus.

you close your eyes and try not to think about the discomfort of the skin-biting cold.

a few minutes pass and you faintly hear the sheets ruffling again—almost succumbing to the sweet embrace of slumber. however, your tranquility was interrupted by two strong arms and a heated blanket around your figure.

you slightly open your eyes to see a pouting thing beside you.

“what's your problem now, kazuya?”

“go to sleep, stupid.”

“okay, whatever. thanks for sharing my blanket with me, handsome” yeah. your blanket definitely.

right as you drift off to dreamland, you feel his lips on yours for a brief moment.

“i love you”

okay, maybe the night wasn't bad at all. +10000 aura points, 11/10 will do again.

and thanks to that, miyuki kazuya woke up to his favourite sight on the bed-–a sticky note that says, hey, just went to pick up some groceries and supplies for my project. you're on cleaning duty today btw. also, mr. and mrs. fluff's litter boxes need changes. pls do them. it's to make up for hogging the blanket :)). love, your dearest 💛. definitely put a scowl on his face.

safe to say miyuki kazuya will never ever hog the blanket…

and forget about the ac remote. tsk. who even decided to put that stupid table in the corner?

it was him.

HELLOOOOO tried something new with dialogue! i hope this was enjoyable for everyone!! even though ace of diamond has a small audience, i can't not write about miyuki kazuya, he's just too 😭😭😭. i'm still trying to find out my writing style so for now, similar pieces will be posted!! thanks for being here and hope to see you soon :)) reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated!! <3

#🐈‍⬛.scorebook #⚾.ace of diamond #🧢.miyuki kazuya #ace of diamond #daiya no ace #miyuki kazuya #miyuki kazuya x reader #daiya #the hold this man has on me

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kedsandtubesocks · 6 months ago

Text

game changer (national league)

MLB catcher!Frankie Morales x F!Reader

summary: it’s your boyfriend’s first big game on his new team & you can’t wait to see what fun the match holds for you and your favorite player

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, baseball AU, light use of gendered language, good cozy fluff, lovesick & sweet!Frankie, competency kink, smutty thoughts, spicy themes, light mask & outfit kink, car sex, heavy making out, oral (f receiving), allusion to p in v, eventual!husband Frankie, lots of baseball talk

word count: 2.9k

a/n: yeah didn’t think I’d ever make a new baseball story for another Pedro boy but I’m on that World Series championship celebration high so here we are LMAO, thanks to @tonysopranosrobe my darling for always dealing with my sports ass (ily forever Han) & to @jolapeno for always being the best Frankie enabler i could ever scream with (I adore you Jo) - and to anyone who decides to read please know I appreciate you thank you so much ♡

This is Frankie’s first season catching as a Los Angeles Dodger. You thought he’d be playing for Miami until he eventually retired. But baseball is still a strange sport, an almost chaotic rush of chess at times with pieces switching all around.

“A team still wants me even when I’m about to turn thirty nine. So fuck, yeah I’ll take it.” Frankie had joked then, but you knew, even for his age, he’s considered one of the league’s best veteran players.

Then before the trade was finalized, Frankie sat you down and told you he might be moving to LA.

“This means…we really might not be seeing each other as often.” He muttered. “But I can maybe try to see if Tampa can be an option.”

He was willing to find a way to stay in Florida for you. Even though you were a bit heartbroken he was leaving, you couldn’t let him pass up on this amazing deal and new opportunity.

The gentle cooling California breeze now flutters all around. You won’t be able to make many trips out here often, but you wanted to at least be here for the first home game to support your favorite baseball player.

You first were introduced to Frankie at your best friend’s cookout. You had met her cousins Benny and his brother Will before. You were instead being introduced to all their friends, including the very handsome Santiago who insisted you call him Pope.

However, it was Frankie who stole your heart that day.

You and him had accidentally walked into each other, causing your drink to spill on him. Frantic, and so embarrassingly apologetic, you immediately went to wipe away your mess.

“I gotta admit… I’ve been trying to work up the confidence to talk to you. Guess the universe helped me out a bit.” Frankie had shyly said, and his words sent your heart fluttering.

It was an effortlessly sweet introduction after that, filled with easy small talk. When you asked what he did for work, Frankie explained he worked at the stadium for the Miami Marlins.

“Oh that’s cool!” You had said bright, but Benny just as bright yelled out -

“It’s cause he fucking plays there!”

Frankie had blushed furious, cussing angrily in Spanish at Benny. But what Benny said was true.

Frankie, very humbled and almost embarrassed, confirmed he did in fact play for the Marlins.

“But I’m just a water boy.” He added with a boyish grin.

“He’s a fucking liar! He’s one of the league’s best catchers!” Pope had then yelled proud.

You became friends with Frankie that day, but you also quickly learned about Francisco Morales.

Professional Major League Baseball player Francisco Morales.

That very first day you met Frankie your knowledge of baseball was bare bones.

Now, as his girlfriend, he jokes how hot it is hearing you talk about the game with him or anyone else.

It’s how you’re able to mingle with the others in the large friends and family suite for the team now. The food of course is delicious, and everyone warmly welcomes you. But you want to be by the action when the game starts.

You need to be near your guy.

Frankie’s job as a catcher has him sitting behind home plate.

A catcher is an intense position. They’re the one person during the game that has full eyes on the field. They alone protect home plate and sometimes call pitches for the pitcher to throw. The catcher is even argued to be the commander of the field. Catchers need to be solid, almost a rock like foundation for their team.

“I only started playing catcher in high school ‘cause our team’s catcher got suspended, and they needed someone, so I just did it.” Frankie had told you with a shrug.

To you though, Frankie seemed born to be a catcher.

Even as quietly warm and playful your Frankie can be, he holds a stead quiet diligence. Always watching, protective of those he cares for. He’s hardworking and incredibly resilient.

However, there was a joke you read about catchers being stubborn because what person willingly and stubbornly sits in the same position game after game. You can greatly agree to the hidden stubborn streak Frankie holds, like stubbornly telling you he was going to fix your ceiling fan and then getting pissy when you had Benny simply do it for you.

But stubborn or not, Frankie has been the most perfect and openly communicative partner. Even with the long distance between you and him, he has always been a phone call away. He even stepped away from a pregame warm up when you called him crying and upset.

Your heart tries not to burst just thinking about him.

Then you catch a glimpse of him sliding his protective mask on, and your throat gets dry.

The first time you went to a game and witnessed Frankie in full catcher mode, you almost didn’t think it was him. The mask covered his face most of the time and the gear almost made him seem bigger.

It’s been many games since that first match, yet he still takes your breath away.

The mask covers most of his face, but you can still catch peaks of him. It does something to you knowing it’s him beneath it.

Now he takes the field in his new lovely blue catcher’s gear.

The chest guard extenuates his broad shoulders and strong chest. And if you thought baseball pants did amazing things for men’s legs and butts, the catcher’s leg guards highlight Frankie’s gloriously thick thighs and study legs.

Pride absolutely courses through you watching him behind the plate and warming up with the dodger’s pitcher.

“Come on, catfish!” Someone from the crowd even yells his famous nickname, and your lips twitch fondly.

With your Morales jersey on, you cheer loud and exhilarated when the game starts.

Frankie is unwavering behind the plate, rarely letting any wild pitch get past him. He earns the love of his new team fast.

Especially when he goes up to bat.

The walk up song he picked to play in the stadium is Led Zeppelin’s Black Dog, and the crowd cheers electrified when it booms loud over the speakers.

As hot as Frankie looks in his catcher’s gear, seeing him in the base uniform, with his batter’s helmet on, working on his swing just amplifies the strength of his shoulder and amazing arms - you’re in awe of how absolutely gorgeous he is.

He ends up striking out, but you still cheer loud and with reassurance.

“Looking good, Morales!” You even scream, and you swear you see his lips twitch fighting a grin.

The Cardinals take the lead fast with two runs. The game becomes a slow claw to catch up. By the fifth the score hasn’t changed with St. Louis leading. But then the bats get hot and the dodgers manage to get on the board to tie.

The game heads to the bottom of the eight inning and the atmosphere dances electrified with the hope of a chance.

Eventually two players get on base with two outs, a very dangerous situation.

And Frankie goes up to bat.

You along with the rest of your section close by the field stand to cheer him and the rest of the team on.

This is a chance to score.

The first pitch comes too high.

The second speeds in, a sharp inside pitch that has Frankie swinging a strike.

It stings, but it’s a good swing. Plus there’s still time, more pitches. You reassuringly rally behind Frankie hoping just an inch of your words reach him among the buzz of the game.

The pitcher throws the next pitch, a wild breaking ball.

Frankie swings. The bat hits the ball with a rattling whack sending it zooming right along the first base line.

The stadium erupts wild. You scream watching Frankie run to first then watching a player run in, scoring the run. Francisco’s hit brought in the lead.

Your favorite player now on first base screams jubilant and punches the air elated.

The excitement of seeing Frankie bring the run in, seeing him so exuberant…it’s a moment coated in a glimmering confetti that cements into your soul.

The start of the ninth inning comes, and Frankie emerges behind the plate, your armored hero.

If the Dodgers manage to hold the Cardinals, they’ll win.

Each pitch, each play, has you on the edge of your seat.

At one point the batter for St. Louis hits a foul ball. Frankie flips off his mask, allowing for sight to catch the ball.

Of course the ball soared over the net into the stands unable for him to maybe catch it. But without his catcher mask on, you’re rewarded a glimpse of his gorgeous face.

Frankie’s traditional catcher’s helmet keeps his hair flat, hidden, but it highlights his strong features, that beautiful nose of his and his perfectly classic scruffy Frankie beard.

Then seeing him covered in sweat, your mind can’t help but flash to images of him in bed sweaty, his face blissed out and panting. Your mouth waters just thinking about your tongue dragging across his sweaty neck and tasting the salt of him-

You immediately snap yourself of the too heated thoughts when the crowd yells upset at a bad call.

With a runner on base now and two outs, the tension piles on as dread trickles in.

Soon enough the cardinal’s batter makes a solid hit. The ball gets fired up high in the air.

Then center field rushes in and catches the ball.

Game over.

Dodgers win.

The stadium overflows with excited pride, and you happily embrace the atmosphere in all its warmth.

You don’t move from your spot, too hypnotized by Frankie who beams with the brightest smile while he celebrates with his new teammates.

You feel prouder than ever to wear his jersey.

The third baseman's wife, who you clicked with earlier, brightly tells you to follow her so she can show you to the locker room. You readily go.

Excitement electrifies every inch of the place. Even though you feel slightly awkward being here for the first time, no one seems to pay you attention.

Until you hear someone shout your name.

When you turn to spot Frankie, he's in gear looking intimidating and sexy wearing his chest guard and protective leg gear. Heading down from the dugout, your catcher rushes over to you. Like a magnet, almost like sensing a tug at your soul, you instantly move towards him.

Frankie collides into you solid, all encompassing as he gathers you into your arms squeezing you tight.

“You need to get out of your gear, Morales!” You laugh.

“It’s fine. Bebita, you’re gonna have to keep coming to the games now. I’ve told ya, you’re my good luck charm.” Frankie’s voice sounds like the bright sun from today’s game still shines brilliantly in it.

You hug him back, spilling nothing but praise.

“You were amazing! I’m so proud of you!” You gush.

You’re already thinking of how to celebrate.

“Marry me.” Frankie says simply that you think you maybe misheard him.

“Frankie honey, what?” Curiosity has you about pulling away from his grasp. Instead Frankie clutches onto you even more.

He says your name. “I…fuck I don’t have the ring with me here, and I know just sprang this up but-“

“You wanna marry me?” Your voice wavers, cutting him off.

You and him have talked about the future, a tentative slow swim treading the possible waters. Frankie’s mentioned buying an apartment together. He’s made the joke, lightly teasing, about you one day becoming a baseball wife.

You had held onto all these small edges of hope. It now all unfurls beautifully overwhelming.

“Yeah baby, but only if you’ll have me.” Frankie nods, his voice thick as he finally draws back out of your arms to get down on one knee.

You wonder if this is a dream you’ve slipped into.

Asking this still in uniform is so Frankie, and your eyes spill over with tears. You nod yes, and your favorite baseball catcher springs to life bolting up to kiss you.

You forgot you’re still in a very open and public setting until all the gasps and excited claps fill the space.

Taking it all in stride you warmly laugh it off letting Frankie hold you close to his side. His eyes even shimmer, precious earth stones.

The evening feels soaked in joy like a beautiful watercolor dream.

You urge your favorite baseball player to go eat dinner with his team, celebrate. But he leans down to whisper in your ear -

“I wanna eat my fiancée’s pussy for dinner.”

Your knees almost give out that second.

Frankie and you barely make it to his truck before he’s drawing you into the backseat, clawing at you, frantically. And you’re just as bad.

You want him inside you. But as promised, Frankie maneuvers you to sit up for him to crawl between your legs. The position is cramped, but you could care less.

Your sweet Frankie, who normally loves to take his time, tear you apart with the most focused and patient ease, now is replaced by a man wild who grips your thighs so tight and laps at your clit messy. You come ridiculously fast on his skilled fingers and feverish tongue feasting on you.

You whine unbearably needy for him, can't go on anymore without him inside of you.

Frankie shifts to sit on the back seat and keep you close while you slide on top of his cock. His stretch in you rips a fire up your spine and you moan as your eyes close.

“Mi amor, my future wife.” Frankie’s voice fills the heated sweaty space with a gilded reverence, and you scramble to kiss him.

Your future husband.

You were slightly worrie about Frankie being tried from his game, but the way he frantically fucks up into you reminds you of a man compeltely possessed. His hands grab you as if he’s worried you’ll float away.

“God, I fucking love you…gonna marry you,” Frankie mumbles, pussy drunk.

You feel just as drunk and reborn as he does, melting into this love.

Your climax knocks you breathless, a blazing star, and Frankie is not far behind.

You don’t move off him and with the way his arms tighten around you, he’s alright with you staying simply close to him as possible.

“You said you had a ring?” You ask tentatively, running your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” Frankie chuckles. “Bought it the day after you face timed me about that cute dog you saw at the store.”

That was a year ago. Your heart feels like it’s blooming a new world right in your chest, and you curl closer into him.

“Thought about proposing to you when I picked you up at the airport yesterday, but you were so tired baby.” He softly says, his hands a warm cocoon around you.

“And today…fuck seeing you cheering in the stands, hearing you. It just got me to more.”

Curiously, you ask what he means.

Frankie, confident as he is on the field, is still so shy, especially now as he burrows his face into your shoulder.

“I mean…I just want to see you at every game. Wanna come home to you. Then just thinking about that, and seeing you wearing my jersey, maybe having it as your last name-”

You rush to kiss him quickly, overtaken by so much adoration and love for this man. The thought had come once, or twice, about being a Morales yourself. You even tell him that.

“Yeah, you ready to be mine officially?” His voice drops low and silky.

You nod moving to kiss his cheek, then rest your face against his.

A soft moment passes while his warm hands rub against every inch of you he can reach.

“Know it’s still early to even talk about wedding shit or living arrangements, but just wanna take care of you, that’s all.” Frankie says firm. “I’ve joked about it but… you could quit your job tomorrow, move out here this weekend, and I’d be fucking over the moon. But I also want you to have your own path too.”

You think of Frankie, your stable ever loving and giving Francisco. His heart shines beautiful right here, right now. It’s like a live wire dances on your skin. Everything still feels intense. Maybe the sensation and rawness of becoming engaged has your mind feeling deliciously fuzzy.

“Just want you Frankie, that’s all.” You breathe those words letting them sink past your bones.

You softly kiss him, love sick syrupy drunk again.

It’s a promise to talk about this more later, about the possibility of living among the California weather with your future husband, it’s a dream you want to soak in.

But it summons up another dream, a sticky hot desire that crawls its way up.

“You remember that fantasy I told you about?” So dazed and in love, your thoughts slip out.

Frankie groans clutching onto you tighter.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” he sighs. “Trying to fuck me in my gear, before a game.”

“Yeah but that was before when I was just your girlfriend.” You coo already feeling your body slowly roll against him.

“As your wife maybe I could-”

Frankie swiftly cuts you off, kissing you so fast that it rattles your bones, and it’s beautiful.

You laugh feeling like maybe you’re the one who truly won tonight.

#WE WON IT ALL SO THIS IS ME STILL CELEBRATING IM SORRY!! if you’re reading this know you’re a true champ & me and baseball frankie love you #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #baseball player!frankie #game changer series #frankie morales fic #Frankie 🤎

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