#and new chapters started coming out recently so it's not like there was a gap of years that's making the plot hard to follow for me

[loveshotzz]

{ trying } a new position with them

I have this in my mind with AIRWIY!Steve, ‘cause I know he’s so soft during sex and you do it in missionary or you ride him, but then you ask him if he will take you from behind (feel free to change) and be a little rough🥹

Hi angel! thank you for your request 💗 I hope you enjoy. This is a request is from my All I Really Want Is You series but can be read as a stand alone.

older!steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ established relationship, smut, dirty talk, cream pie, age gap.

wc: 1.3k

authors note: for those that read the series this takes place during the gap between chapter ten and the epilogue. the relationship is still new and they are trying new things 🧡

Something felt different about tonight.

You think it might’ve been the fancy cocktails that were stronger than normal, and the dim lighting of The Violet Hour that danced across Steve’s sharp features. Or his big hand that stayed high on your thigh through the entirety of dinner. Salt and pepper scruff tickling your cheek every time he leaned in to whisper low in your ear. 

Maybe it was the lemon zest still fresh on his tongue when he licked into your mouth at the end of your date pressing you against your front door. Whatever it was Steve Harrington made your body feel like it was on fire tonight, embers burning in the pit of your stomach waiting to combust with every touch. 

The roll of his hips only stokes the flames when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you after barely making it to your bed, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake. His full weight keeps you pressed into the mattress, with your knee hooked over the crook of his elbow. The tip of him hitting the spot that makes your back arch with every slow stroke over and over again, but god, it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

That loose strand falls damp across his forehead, a bead of sweat dangerously close to falling off the end. His eyes never leave yours, the black of his pupils making the gold and moss colored flecks disappear. Lips brushing with every thrust, the whiskey on his breath mingles with the pineapple on yours, while your nails dig half crescent moons into the constellations on his back.

He shifts hitting a different spot when he drives back in, and it makes your jaw go slack. Steve takes advantage, tracing your top lip with his tongue while the tip of his nose bumps into yours. He starts a slow grind instead of pulling out, the dark thatch of hair that frames the part of him hugged tight by your walls rubs against your clit in a way that has his name sound like a prayer. But it still wasn’t enough. Not even when your hands make their way down, fingers digging into the soft dough of his ass to try and coax him even deeper.

“Fuck - honey,” He grunts, pushing in as far as he can, eyes rolling in the back of his head when you nip at his bottom lip, recently discovering how much he liked it when you did that.

“I need - “ You start but a quick snap of his hips steals the breath out of your lungs for a second.

“What do you need?” His brows furrow when you flutter around him, watching the way your eyes glaze over when he hits that spot again, “tell me, I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I - I want- I want you to fuck me from behind.” The words make the grind of his hips falter, the black of his eyes turning into an abyss. 

“Yeah?” Steve sounds breathless when he finally comes back to his body.

Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, all you can do is nod, a shy smile playing at the corners of your mouth despite feeling the twitch of him inside of you. He rolls his hips again, something smug flickering in his eyes when he sees the way it makes your face crumble.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.” He rubs the tip of his nose with yours before he starts to slowly pull out. Cursing under his breath, the feeling of your walls trying to suck him back in is almost enough for him to cum. 

You shudder at the feeling of being so empty when he sits back on his haunches, long fingers wrapping around his cock, stroking himself as he watches you get on all fours for him. He’s never seen you presented to him like this, and he almost cums again in the span of a minute.

“Jesus Christ, look at you.” He sounds wrecked when he talks, and when you peek over your shoulder at him, he looks it too.

Wiggling your hips, his free hand finds the soft fat of your ass, while his strokes with his other get quicker. He squeezes at the dough of it, groaning when he sees the way you’re dripping down your thighs. The precum that leaks from his fat tip mixes with your slick as he drags himself through your folds, a lewd squelching noise filling your room when he does it over and over again. 

“Steve - fuck - please, please.” Your fingers tangle into your sheets, pushing your hips back into his for more when he adds pressure to your bundle of nerves before catching at your entrance.

“Shhh, It’s okay, I got you, I got you.” He coos when the tip of him breaches your walls, both hands finding the curve of your hips. “Gonna take all of me like the tough girl you are, aren’t you baby?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Too cock drunk not to babble when he pushes half way in, the lingering effects of the drinks you had at dinner has your body ignited. You’ve never felt so full and it’s not even all of him.

“God, you’re so wet. Always so wet for me.” He groans with one final roll of his hips, burying himself as far as he can go, the stretch making you keen the heat inside your belly turning white.

He doesn’t move, letting your body adjust to the length of him like this, fingers digging into the soft skin of your sides hard enough to bruise. Your walls won’t stop clenching and it makes him twitch. He leans over earning him a soft ‘oh’ from you at the feel of him somehow pushing deeper, warm lips trailing kisses up your spine, leaving more over the hard plain of your shoulder blade before stopping at the shell of your ear.

“You ready honey?” 

He can’t see the way the deep baritone makes your eyes hit the back of your head, and all you can do is nod. He gives a smug kind of chuckle that you’ve never heard before, pulling himself back up. His hands squeeze at you one more time, a low breath escaping through his nose while he takes in the sight in front of him. 

“Ste-“ His name dies on your tongue when he pulls almost all the way out, before a rough snap of his hips pushes him all the way back in. “Oh my god!’

Steve’s never heard you make sounds like this for him before and he thinks he might lose his mind, something primal unlocking deep inside his brain. The softness he’s always treated you with is replaced by the animalistic need to fill you to the brim. The springs of your mattress squeak loudly under his knees, the head board he helped you set up after a trip to Ikea smacking against your wall with every harsh thrust. 

“Gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?” He doesn’t sound like the man who leaves you silly notes with all his gifts, his voice is rough just like his touch. The hair on his thighs rubbing against the wet backs of yours.

“Please, yeah, it’s all - fuck, fuck, yeah it’s all I want Steve, please.” You're babbling now too close to worry about how you sound with your cheek pressed to the mattress as he holds your hips up. The grip on your sheets is tight enough to pull them off the corners of your bed, and the fire that's threatened to consume you finally does when the tip of him hits a spot he’s never found before. “Oh god, i‘m gonna - Steve! -i’mgonnacum!”

He keeps his unrelenting pace watching the way your eyes screw shut, and your jaw go slack. A shudder rolling through your body, toes curling while your walls milk him with the strength of your orgasm. 

“Oh fuck - honey.” Steve’s loud when he paints your insides white, the warmth of him filling you up until it drips down your thighs is enough to make you moan with him at the feel of it, aftershocks running though your fingertips that grasp at anything.

The blunt ends of his nails dig into your hips, his body staying ridgid as he tries to get a grip. Yours is limp in his hands, eyes slowly blinking while everything comes back into focus. When he finally regains enough brain power, he leans forward again, trailing lazy wet kisses up your spine that make the corners of your lips twitch before he stops at your ear.

“So we’re absolutely going to get drinks there again.” 

[mybworlds]

Wintry dance

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You, after a very long trip alone across the country, arrive in Jackson. Joel is a very lonely man and after Ellie broke up with him, he's even more alone and grumpy. Tommy and Maria decide that you're going to stay at Joel's house for a while, at least until more houses are built. Will your cohabitation be easy? Or will it be more complicated than everyone thinks?

Warnings: use of you, use of alcohol, loneliness, suicidal thoughts, a short story about sexual assault that occurred in the past I won't go into details, violence, blood, lots of sexually explicit content, use of petnames, dirty talk, fluff elements, mutual pining, the main characters spy on each other for a while, the image of the female character has the sole purpose of representing the character, but you can imagine her however you want, unspecified age gap, no physical description of the female character except for long hair often gathered in a ponytail or braid, she wears a bra and jeans (most of the time).

A/N Hey there, I'm sorry to make you wait almost a month between one chapter and another, but I really care about writing everything well and so I often take more time to write. I hope you like it as much as I do and if you don't like it, please be merciful. Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️

Masterlist

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Taglist: @harriedandharassed

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

Winter comes and even the first snowflakes begin their wintry dance.

You love snow, from time immemorial. It gives you the idea of magic. You find yourself to smile behind the windows of the house.

Your life is finally regular, no unexpected events, no runaways, nothing. Everything is. . . strangely normal. You still struggle to get used to all this!

It's good for you. Finally you are not afraid anymore, you sleep in a really comfortable bed, you have a regular breakfast, lunch and dinner. You started going out with guys around your age a few days ago, you get out with Dina and Jesse even if they're younger than you, but it's okay. They are funny. And all you need now is to relax and let go a little, at least as much as you can.

From time to time, Jesse or Dina or sometimes Tommy call you for patrols and you go. You are really good to shoot with a bow, it's what people say about you and it's okay because it means you became part of a community, part of something and it's not bad as you thought.

Well, that's not all rosy. . . there's Joel who never changes his icy courtesy, after those strange moments you experienced together a few days ago. Not a word to you more than necessary, not a glance more than necessary. You don't know how long you can stay here in his house. Sooner or later he will tell you to go away, you're sure of it.

Where will you go? Probably you'll go to Dina's or Maria's. . . no idea.

Today it's your 40th patrol and you'll go with Joel. The idea doesn't excite you, but you don't want to be a troublemaker for anyone. Joel's annoyed look is enough.

The only sound is the hoof of horses in the snow, it's a good sound. Snow doesn't fall and at least you can find the way to go back to Jackson.

The two of you don't say a word, you often look at each other to point to a prey or if one of you see an infected. You kill at least three of those clickers before to get off the horse and heading into the forest. Joel is by your side, he's quiet, precise and a couple of times kills two runners who tried to reach you. You look at him surprised, "Thanks," you say.

"Uh, uh," it's his only reply.

After ten feet you ask him, "Those things were uhm. . ." you whisper.

"Runners, yeah." he says in the same tone as your.

"But it means. . ."

"It means they have recently turned into infected."

"So, it's probably. . ."

"Yeah, it's probably some of those things are somewhere around here."

You swallow looking at him, you are not afraid, it's not your first time. But you usually kill them alone and so you didn't have to think to anyone else except you, "Afraid?" he asks.

You look at him "No, but I always faced 'em alone. I never watched someone's back before."

"‘s okay, you won't start today," he says before to start to walk turning his back to you.

In some places, snow is deeper so your steps are slower and you often sunk, a couple of times Joel gives his hands to you to reach a higher point or to help you to walk, his hands are bigger than yours and his grip is firm. He holds you until you don't reach him then he abruptly lets go of your grip as if the mere contact with you bothers him.

Finally you see a deer, it's a good prey, you hold the string and then you let the arrow fly, the deer has no escape. Your arrow hits its neck, the poor deer tries to escape, but it falls to the ground dead.

"You really good," Joel says when the two of you reach the deer and he pulls the arrow away from its neck "I thought everyone was exaggerating,” he adds, bringing you right back down to earth.

"Thanks, let's take it away," you say tying it with a double rope so the two of you can drag it away.

You two don't talk on the way back, partly because of the cold and partly because you don't know what to say to each other. You hoped that that half-compliment would bring about a slight change in your relationship, but instead he immediately underlined his opinion of you. You only glance at each other from time to time and then return to focus on the road ahead of you.

The two of you reach your horses where you double rope the deer and then take off again and head towards Jackson.

"I can't wait to drink two large glasses of wine and fall asleep," he says, closing his eyes almost as if he's already savoring that moment, you notice how two dimples form on the sides of his cheeks when he gets that rare relaxed expression and you can't help but smile "What? Why d' ya smile?"

You shrug your shoulders, "When you make that face you're funny" you say unable to get your smile back.

"Glad to hear that! So, I'm some kind of clown!" he exclaims.

"No, clowns have always made me sad." you reply by wrinkling your nose.

When you look up at Joel, you see him staring at you, you frown in confusion.

“So, what is it that you like?” he asks you.

"Tsk, I know you're only asking out of politeness, not out of interest," you say.

Joel doesn't answer, you probably hit the nail on the head, you look ahead, you know he can't stand you.

It's evening. It's snowing again outside and it's very cold. Joel prepared the fire and strangely he didn't freeze you with his gaze nor did he give you the usual look with which he chases you away, you prepare a soup with meat and you bring him a plate that you place on his coffee table, then you turn your back and go to the kitchen, you're used to act like this with him. On the kitchen island there is also a hot dish for you that you prepared earlier, after two spoonfuls you hear a husky voice coming from the other room, "Why don't you come over to the fireplace? It's cold tonight."

You turn towards the fire and see Joel looking at you with the dish you prepared for him in his hands, "Come, won't bite" you look at his face as if to understand if he is joking or serious, his gaze is concentrated, but not hostile as usual so you nod, you get off the stool and you join him taking your dish with you.

He's sitting in an armchair, while you sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace. You look at him furtively at least a dozen times, then seeing him calmly eating, you imitate him.

The fire produces a familiar and pleasant crackling sound which heats both of you quickly and paints the walls and your faces a deep orange and black nuances.

"‘s good this soup!" he says savoring your dish down to the last spoonful.

"I'm glad you like it," you say, "is there any other dish you might like to eat? I can't guarantee success, but I'll try!" you exclaim trying to talk civilly with him without being attacked or cold-shouldered by his words..

He shakes his head, "Whatever it is, it'll be fine," he reassures you.

You nod.

For a while you only hear the crackling of the fire and the creaking of the burning wood, it's a strange but pleasant silence.

"You asked me earlier what it is that I like." you say after a while "I love the snow, seeing the snowflakes swirling in the air creating those little swirls. I love the expanses of wild flowers in spring or see a pristine meadow. I love going to the beach to see the ocean waves crash on the shore when summer arrives and then in autumn I love the carpets of red, yellow, brown leaves," you smile staring at the fire.

"You like nature, but. . . nothing about relationships with other people," he notes, you look up "You don't trust ‘em or is there some other reason?" he asks looking at you.

You bite your bottom lip, you find yourself looking at his face for a few moments before sighing, "Never mind. It's none of my business and I don't even care," he replies, suddenly freezing the room "Have you finished?" he asks you, getting up from the chair and pointing to the now empty plate in your hands, “Sure,” you reply.

"Good, gimme," he says, holding out his hand to take the plate that you immediately hand him, "If you wanna, stay close to the fire a little longer." he says as he's about to take his leave.

"Joel," he pauses, "I know I'm a burden to you, someone to get rid of, but I promise you, I'll try not to make you feel my presence too much, I know you don't wanna me around" you tell him, turning your torso partially towards him "when maybe they build more houses, I'll leave."

Joel stares at you in the semi-darkness and then he walks away without saying a word.

Actually, you love many other things, but you still don't feel completely at ease with Joel and above all he just admitted that deep down he doesn't really care what you like or what you're interested in.

Joel washes those two plates and those two spoons at least twenty times. He doesn't know what to replicate to your words and therefore he delays the moment when he will find himself alone with you again. The truth is he doesn't know what he wants right now. You're still a burden, you're still a hindrance to his routine, but it's become harder to treat you badly now. Maybe it was Tommy's words, maybe Ellie's or maybe it was you with all your unspoken words, your sweetness, your attitude, your look that made him understand that he's not the only one who suffers from something.

He pours himself a drink, he places his lips against the glass, but then he thinks better and puts the glass down.

"Fuck!" he exclaims, then dries the dishes and finally joins you.

By the time he reaches you, you are fast asleep. You're on your stomach and hugging the sofa cushion.

He watches you, he runs a hand through his hair, then takes two blankets and he places them on you. You visibly relax, Joel can even swear he saw you smile and twice in the same evening is a lot.

He sits in the armchair and turns on the small light on the side table, he puts on his reading glasses and then takes a book from the drawer of the side table.

He reads several pages, stopping every now and then when he hears you moan meaningless words in your sleep or when he sees you wrinkle your forehead. He takes off his glasses and places the book on the side table, he puts out the fire and puts on the spark arrestor, then fixes the blankets for you, he gives you one last look and then leaves. When he gets into bed, he realizes that it's the first time in probably months that he has reached his room sober.

When you wake up the next day, you have two warm, thick blankets over you. You stretch and yawn loudly, then you sit up and realize you're not in your bed, but in Joel's living room.

Did he let you stay here to sleep? This is really weird.

You get up and fold the blankets to the side, then you go to the kitchen and make yourself some coffee, it has a unique taste, but it's not that bad.

It's been a long time since you drank coffee. . .

You decide to make one for Joel, he's an asshole, but he'll still host you at his house. You take a cup that you imagine is his with an owl on it, you smile. The owl actually represents him very well, it's a nocturnal, solitary and extremely territorial animal.

You pour the coffee into the cup and go upstairs, the door to his room is almost completely closed, you knock weakly a couple of times, then open it. Joel is lying face up in the center of the bed, his arms completely open so that he takes up the entire bed, the pulled aside covers show his exposed torso.

You watch his thick fingers full of small cracks and cuts, his hands relaxed, his face is a mixture of sweetness and masculinity, the wrinkles are barely noticeable, the lips parted, his chest is broad as it looked and you watch a lot of scratches and a very large old scar on his abdomen.

You swallow, you lower your head unsure about what to do or what to say, maybe you have to go back to the hall and knock again and pretend you didn't stare at him for so long. You can almost hear his voice thundering against you.

Yes, you'll do so.

You are about to get out, when you hear him move into the bed and mumbles something to you, you clearly hear your name so you slowly turn your back to the door again, fuck. . .

"Hey, that's my mug!" he says with a sleepy expression and tone of voice.

You clear your throat and then you offer his cup, "Yeah, it is. Here."

He sits in the center of the bed exposing even more his torso. You look at him or rather you look at his bare chest.

He follows your gaze, “Oh, fuck. . . sorry, I'm wearing a t-shirt," Joel apologizes, as you see him lean towards a nearby chair and cover himself.

You look everywhere but him who is now wearing a grey shirt and reaches out a hand towards the cup you're holding out to him and begins to sip his coffee.

"D' ya feel uncomfortable?" he asks you all of a sudden.

You look at him again, "N - n - no," you say barely hold his gaze.

"‘s okay, darlin'. I won't bite." he says putting the cup on his bedside table "Comin' in a while, I'll see ya downstairs, okay?" you nod before to leave.

Darling?

No one has ever used these nicknames and above all you don't expect them from a person who is so openly hostile towards you.

Joel is a living enigma. He says such harsh words, but then he does such sweet things like tucking you in. You don't understand.

You walk down the stairs slowly feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest. When you reach the kitchen, it almost feels like someone has sucked the air out of your lungs.

Ralph. . . the thought of him suddenly comes back violently before your eyes.

You pour some cold water into a glass and sip it slowly, “Fuck...” you murmur sitting on a stool, you place your hands on the shelf feeling your head spin, you close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, counting from fifty backwards.

When you regain control of yourself, you get up and go out onto the porch, you find yourself thinking that you need to get out of this house as soon as possible.

In a certain sense your life has improved, you think, you have friends, days that are almost identical to each other, you have a roof over your head, food in your stomach, but your nightmares continue to haunt you.

You have pain everywhere. He beat you mercilessly, he punched you under an eye, he violently squeezed your wrists while he raped you, you stagger, you want to report what you lived, but in the QZ, when they saw you in that state, they thought you had been bitten and they pointed all sorts of weapons at you. You were shaking, you peed on yourself, you were raped and they were pointing guns at you and looking at you like you were filthy. After verifying that you were not infected, they listened to you, but their response was that they have much more serious problems than yours, that's what an officer told you when you told him why you were covered in blood and bruises. You are treated and a nurse gives you a painkiller, the same scene repeats itself before your eyes without stopping, you can't breathe. You fall asleep seeing Ralph push himself inside you with increasing violence and feeling your flesh tear under his thrusts.

You wake up with a start, screaming and waving your hands in the air to free yourself from his grip. You sit up and bring your knees close to your chest, you place your hands on your ears and burst into tears.

NEXT CHAPTER ➢

[milfhunter6698]

Under pressure

synopsis: Upon joining the NYC firm as a new associate, you quickly find yourself facing the pressure of working under the firm’s star senior partner, Victoria neuman. With a reputation for excellence and an eye for potential, she was searching for a junior partner who can meet her exacting standards. You, with your impressive credentials and unwavering ambition, seemed like a perfect fit…until the pressure of meeting those high expectations started taking their toll. 

Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, angst, teasing, hurt & comfort, power imbalance, slight AU, some similarities to cannon, mentions of the boys characters (Hughie), slight age gap, rival associates, young!reader, older!Victoria, slow-burn. 

notes: Woah thank you guys for the support on my recent posts, so sorry I haven’t been more active on here just been busy with life! But finally I had enough time to finish this story. Like I said before I’ve been cooking up a little something that’s a bit slightly different than usual and well here it is, this is kind of inspired by suits if you couldn’t already tell I love that show so much Anyway a little reminder that it’s an AU so Vic isn’t a supe she isn’t married and she doesn’t have a daughter, reader has a conflicted love interest, only in the beginning. Also just a small age gap (reader’s like 2 years younger). And well that’s it!! I will be posting a new chapter every week really anytime I can but until now I don’t have a specific posting schedule yet, now enjoy.

chapter 1

wc: 2k

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the gleaming glass and steel interior of the building, one of the most prestigious law firms in New York City. You took a deep breath, smoothing out the front of your suit jacket. You had literally dreamed of this moment walking into a top firm as a freshly minted Harvard Law graduate—but the reality of it felt far more overwhelming than you had anticipated.

An assistant greeted you the moment you stepped into the bustling reception area. “Welcome, I’m Claire, and I’l be showing you around.”

Before you could respond, a commanding voice cut through the ambient noise of ringing phones and low murmurs of legal conversations. “Claire, I’ll take it from here.”

Turning, You saw Victoria neuman standing near the glass partition of her corner office. She was even more striking in person than she had been in the firm’s profile you had studied religiously. Sharp cheekbones, sleek long dark hair, and an air of complete control. Her expression, unreadable but undeniably powerful, was enough to make even the seasoned attorneys in the firm glance her way with deference. She strode toward you with an assured grace.

“I was expecting you,” she said, offering a firm handshake. “Welcome, I’ll be conducting your orientation personally.”

Claire gave a polite nod and retreated, leaving You alone with Victoria. You tried to keep your cool, even though standing in front of the firm’s most formidable senior partner sent a surge of adrenaline through you. Holy shit this  is it, you thought. This is where it all begins.

Victoria’s gaze was intense, eyes scanned your figure appraising you without a word for a few beats longer than comfortable. You could feel your own heartbeat quicken in response. Then, with a subtle nod of approval, she motioned for you to follow.

“Come. I’ll show you around,” she said. “I want to ensure you understand exactly what’s expected of you.”

As you walked, Victoria didn’t bother with the typical pleasantries. Instead, she dove straight into the firm’s culture and expectations. “At this firm, we pride ourselves on delivering results. Clients expect nothing less than perfection. You’ll be expected to hit the ground running, and I don’t tolerate mistakes. Learn fast, think faster.”

She led you past rows of open offices, filled with sharp-suited attorneys hunched over laptops or on hurried phone calls. The energy in the room was palpable, like a live wire buzzing beneath the surface.

“You came highly recommended,” she continued, glancing at you sideways, “so I assume you’re ready for what this job demands. Your education is impressive, but that won’t matter much if you can’t perform here. I don’t give second chances.”

You arrived at a glass-walled conference room. Victoria paused in front of it, turning to face you fully. “This is where deals are won and lost. Every conversation in this room has the power to change the course of someone’s life—or their career. You’ll need to be as sharp as a blade if you want to survive here.”

You swallowed, nodding, the weight of her words settling heavily on your shoulders. hmm no pressure, you thought wryly.

Victoria’s expression softened for a fraction of a second. “You’ll be working closely with me. I expect dedication and loyalty above all else. You deliver, and you’ll go far. Fail, and—well, let’s just say you won’t have time to pack your desk.”

The edge in her tone sent a chill through you, but it also lit a spark. This was exactly what you wanted—the chance to prove yourself, to become someone worthy of standing in such a firm like this. The stakes were high, but so was the reward.

“Any questions?” Victoria asked, crossing her arms, waiting.

You shook your head. “No, I’m ready.”

Victoria’s lips curved slightly, just shy of a smile. “Good. We’ll see about that.”

You returned the smile and watched as she trailed down the hallway, your eyes fixated on the way her curls danced with her every movement. The sway of her hips hypnotized you, a vision you couldn't tear your gaze away from. Her delicate blossom pink skirt hugged her body, outlining her curves that made your heart skip a beat.

You spent the rest of the morning buried in a flood of emails, client files, and case briefings that had been stacked neatly on your desk. It was a lot to take in more than you had imagined—but you welcomed the challenge. 

The buzz of the office continued around you phones ringing, associates pacing with urgent phone calls, and the distant hum of printers churning out documents by the dozen.

As you settled into your cubicle, you felt a presence lingering nearby. Glancing up, you saw a guy, another associate—tall, sharp-dressed, and carrying the kind of swagger that suggested he had something to prove. You had seen him briefly during your orientation but hadn’t yet exchanged words.

“It’s you, right?” He leaned against the edge of your cubicle, arms folded across his chest. “Heard you’re the new associate.” His tone was casual, but there was something in his eyes that felt like a challenge.

You nodded, unsure of where this was going. “Yeah, just started today.”

“Harvard, huh?” He scoffed slightly, shaking his head. “Well, let me give you some advice. This place doesn’t care where you went to school. All that matters is how fast you can keep up, and—” He paused, leaning in slightly, lowering his voice. “—how well you play the game.”

You raised an eyebrow, What the?- not entirely sure what this guy was getting at, but before you could even respond, a sharp voice sliced through the conversation.

“Hughie,” came Victoria’s voice, cutting through the air with a tone that brooked no argument. She was striding down the hall, her eyes fixed on him. “Quit wasting time, and get back to work. I need you in my office now.”

Hughie stiffened, his cocky expression dropping in an instant. Without another word, he pushed himself off your desk and muttered, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” before turning and following Victoria down the hall.

You watched them go, Victoria not bothering to glance back as Hughie trailed after her like a scolded schoolboy. You turned back to your desk. 

Shaking it off, you focused back on the files in front of you. You didn’t have time for distractions. And Victoria had made it pretty clear that there was no room for error here, and you were determined to prove that you were more than just another Harvard graduate with a shiny diploma.

The office was quieter now, the once-bustling space reduced to a few late-night workers finishing up their tasks. You, exhausted but resolute, packed up the last of your paperwork and headed for the exit. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the hallway as you made your way towards the elevators.

Passing by Victoria’s office, you glanced in through the glass panels to see her still working, her silhouette illuminated by the glow of her desk lamp. You were about to step into the elevator when you noticed her approaching.

“Late night?” She asked as she arrived beside you, her tone softer than it had been during the day.

“Just trying to get up to speed,” You replied, pressing the button for the elevator.

She nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “Hey um, listen about earlier. Hughie can be a bit… intense. I’m sorry if his behavior was off-putting. He’s known for his competitive nature and his, well, cocky personality. It’s not personal.”

You raised an eyebrow, nodding appreciating the gesture. “Thanks for letting me know. It’s been a bit… overwhelming.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. You both stepped inside, the small space cocooning you in an unexpected moment of quiet. Victoria glanced at you, her professional demeanor giving way to something more genuine.

“Just keep your head up and stay focused. You’ve got potential, and that’s why you’re here,” she said, offering a small smile.

You nodded, feeling a flicker of reassurance from her words. “I will. Thank you.”

The elevator came to a gentle halt on the ground floor. As the doors opened, Victoria stepped out, pausing to give you one last look.

“Good night,” she said, her voice carrying a note of warmth. “See you tomorrow.”

“Night,” You replied, watching as she walked away down the corridor to the lobby.

You trudged up the stairs to your apartment, exhausted after the demanding day at the office. You fumbled with your keys and finally managed to unlock the door. Pushing it open, the dim light from the hallway barely illuminated the space as you stepped inside.

Your hand instinctively reached for the light switch, only to find the room already bathed in a soft glow. Your eyes were drawn to the figure sitting on the couch, arms crossed, a silhouette against the light. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh hey, you scared me,” You said, letting out a sigh of relief as you recognized the figure. You jingled the keys nervously and held a hand to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

Her eyes were fixed on the floor, her expression a mix of frustration and sadness. She didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch.

“What’s going on?” You asked, stepping closer. You reached out to lift her chin to meet your gaze, but she turned her head away, brushing your hand aside.

“We need to talk,” She finally said, her voice trembling slightly.

Your brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? You’re acting like something’s terribly wrong.”

Her frustration boiled over. “It’s not just ‘something’—it’s everything! You’re always working. When you’re home, you’re so distant. It’s like you’re not even here.”

Your face hardened. “I’m working hard to build my career, This job is important. I thought you understood that.”

She stood up abruptly, her face flushed with emotion. “I understand that you’re working hard, but at what cost? You’re neglecting us. You’re never around, and when you are, it’s like you’re so preoccupied that you don’t even notice how this is affecting me!”

Your frustration matched hers. “Are you saying that my career is more important than our relationship? I’m doing this for us, to secure a future. What more do you want from me?”

Her voice cracked with anger. “I want you to be present! I want you to be here, with me. I want us to have a future together, but not if it means you’re absent from it!”

Your jaw clenched, your anger and guilt conflicting inside you. “You think it’s easy for me? I’m doing the best I can, and it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough. You’re not making this any easier by attacking me like this!”

Her eyes filled with tears as her anger reached its peak. “I’m not attacking you. I’m telling you how I feel. I need to know that you’re committed to us, not just your job. But it seems like that’s not something you’re willing to do.”

She turned towards the door, her movements sharp and decisive. “I can’t keep doing this anymore, I need someone who’s truly here for me, not just physically but emotionally. And right now, that’s not you.”

Your voice faltered. “Hey, wait. please I’m sorry. I’ll try to make things right.”

She paused at the door, her back still turned to you. “Words aren’t enough anymore,” she said quietly. “I need actions. Until you can show me that, I need some time.”

With that, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The door closed behind her with a definitive click, leaving you standing alone in the dim light of your apartment.

You knew the decisions and the sacrifices you had to make balancing your personal and professional life, when you applied for this position, but the choice was becoming increasingly unbearable. 

The job was intense sure, but your relationship with your girlfriend was just as crucial to you. The thought of losing her was eating you alive, gnawing at your concentration and filling you with a deep sense of anxiety.

With a deep sigh you sank down onto the couch, your heart ached at the emptiness of the place that now felt suffocating. 

[ldysmfrst]

Incomplete (1) - A Pull to Where?

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 1 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 3,376  

Word count for Story: 3,376  

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does not really contain anything to warn about. (let me know if I am wrong)

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

“I can’t believe it! We are all here for the LA concert! This will be the first time for us. I am so proud of everything and love you all,” exclaimed Hongjoong. Looking around BMO stadium quickly before the VIP ticket holders came in, he could not believe they finally made it after six years. 

“All thanks to our wonderful Captain,” Seonghwa says as he back-hugs his shortest soulmate. “Did you see the lines are already starting to fill with our Atiny? Are you sure we brought enough Merch for all of them?”

“Don’t worry about that, Hwa. I am sure our management brought what they could. Remember, we have to split it between two shows. Are you sure you are up for this? You haven't taken the time to lament your grandfather’s passing. I am sure Atiny will understand if you cannot make it through the show,” Yeosang comments with a concerned look.

Smiling softly, Seonghwa replies, “Atiny are my light in my darkest times. Right now, performing for them… I feel like I am performing to keep my own light shining inside. I couldn’t do this without them, and want to perform best for this tour to honor my late grandfather.”

“Hwa, he is so proud of you. I can tell,” Hongjoong says, turning his head to kiss Seonghwa on the cheek.

One of the stagehands tells the three soulmates, “You have one hour to get ready for sound check.” 

“Let's head backstage and get ready to charm our Atiny,” Yeosang remarks as he pushes Seonghwa and Hongjoong towards the back. 

As the three missing soulmates make it behind the stage, Seonghwa feels his chest tighten. Dropping his hug on Hongjoong, Seonghwa makes his way to the side, where he can glimpse the lawn where the queue is set up for the merchandise and the standard entry. His eyes search the crowd for something. 

Maybe someone familiar or someone to stand out. 

Seonghwa was the most sensitive of all his soulmates, which is why he was known to Atiny as Momhwa. He always cared for the children (San, Wooyoung, Johngo, Yeosang, Mingi, and Yunho) while the Captain was off doing captain-like things. He was also the one to beg for alone time but then worried 24/7 that the rest of his soulmates were being taken good care of when they weren’t in his eyesight. 

Recently, the kids have grown up, which has allowed Hongjoong and Seonghwa to focus on other things. During this time, Seonghwa noticed that he felt like something was missing, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Looking over the crowds, it felt like something was nearby, but what could it be?

“Hwa-hyung, are you okay? Did you see someone out there?” asked San after noticing the intense look on Seonghwa’s face as he peeked out the gap in the stands. 

Rubbing his chest, Hwa replied, “Yeah… I think so. It just gotta be nerves. Still get them, ya know?” San nodded with a smile. “Being back in LA means so much to Joong-ah, and I don’t want to mess it up.” 

Shrugging off the tightness, Seonghwa went to his chair to prepare for sound check. He took his seat between Mingi and Yunho, who are always inseparable; their idle chatter overtook Hwas's thoughts as they got closer to showtime.

“Good job on the sound check, boys! BE:FIRST is ready to go on, and the rest of the gates will open in five,” called another stagehand as they rushed by.

“Mingi-ah, how is your back? You seemed like you were limping a little,” asked Yunho.

“It’s my chest that feels like… I don’t know, like a burning but not a painful burn,” Mingi answered, rubbing his chest. 

“You too?” San and Seonghwa asked at the same time. The three of them looked at each other with wide eyes. Grabbing the other two, Seonghwa pulled them closer to the rest of the group.

“Hey guys, listen to this. San, tell us what you feel,” ordered Hwa.

“Umm… well, it is like a strap around my chest, and it’s pulling me out of the stadium,” San told the group, “Why, hyung?”

“Mingi?” prompted Hwa.

“Yeah, that’s pretty accurate,” he agreed. Looking over his shoulder at BE:FIRST taking the stage, he rubbed his chest harder. "Whatever it is, it just kicked up a notch, but now it's pulling…”

“Toward the stage, right?” Seonghwa urgently says. “Like it’s pulling us to the other side of the stadium?”

San and Mingi nod in agreement. Seonghwa, however, watches Hongjoong’s confused reaction to this information. 

“Hey guys! First set of costumes now, please!” urges the wardrobe noona. Reluctantly to end the conversation, the members get dressed and head to their positions to start the first of two LA Shows. 

The feeling of pulling intensifies as they take the stage, pulling around the stadium and then towards the crowd. The three who feel this intensity seemingly find themselves consistently on the same side of the stage. So often, when they return for their first intermission, the Captain pulls them aside.

“What is going on with the three of you?” Hongjoong asks urgently. “San, you have to pull it together. You are up next. Focus on all of our Atiny, not just the one side. Remember, the performance for our Atiny comes first. We wouldn’t be here without them. Please don’t make the others feel left out.”

“Sorry, Captain. I will do better. I better hurry and change,” San pouts as he runs toward Wooyoung, who also looks concerned. 

“You two, figure out what is going on. I know you both are sensitive to energies and such. If it is something bad, we need to warn security. Even though we are in Korea, it doesn’t mean they don’t have crazed fans, too,” warns Hongjoong.

“You got it, Hyung. Hwa-hyung and I will try to figure it out, but the performance won’t suffer,” Mingi says confidently. Seonghwa nods in agreement as they change costumes and proceed with part 2 of the concert. 

“Seonghwa, San, Mingi, and Hongjoong, what in the hell is going on with you?” exclaims their manager. “Green room. NOW. All eight of you.”

Thankfully, this is a longer intermission as the eight follow their manager’s orders. Pilling into the room, they notice their following change of costumes is laid out and ready for them. Without hesitation or shyness, the soulmates start to change as the manager comes in, “Talk.”

“Manager-nim, we are trying our hardest, but there is something about that side of the venue that is pulling the three of us,” Seonghwa says, pulling up his pants. “I think there is either someone important over there, either someone we already know or someone we need to know.”

“Only the three of you feel this way?” asks the manager, looking around at the rest of the group. 

The rest of the group nods or voices their agreement as they change. He continues, “If that is the case, then you three must stick together, and the rest of you will entertain the rest of Atiny. See if you can figure out what section this “important person” is in.”

“Yes, manager-nim. Thank you,” San bows with a huge smile. Even though Seonghwa and Mingi were the more sensitive ones, San was the one who could hone in on the source the best of them all. He could technically leave the stage and run around with the manager's permission. 

San glanced at their Captain and Seonghwa with a questioning smile, to which both nodded, and San took off looking for his personal security guard. None of the security guards liked it when the boys would go around Atiny, but they got paid extra, so no complaints were heard. Once they discussed San's route, during which song(s), it was time to get in place. 

Taking a deep breath, San focuses on the pull and latches on. It was time to figure out who or what was causing them such a feeling.

This member of the Demon line was on a hunt. 

“Damn it!” San yelled, throwing his hat against the make-up vanity. 

Wooyoung ran up behind him, pulling the fuming soulmate into his arms. “Sannie, it’s okay. Maybe they left early? Do you still feel them?”

“Yes. Yes, I do, but because of the send-off, we cannot go out there and find out what is happening,” San whined into Wooyoung’s neck as he hugged the slightly younger soulmate. “I know what section the pull is centered on, but what 50-100 seats are in that section alone?”

“Maybe they will be at the send-off or back tomorrow night?” offered Wooyoung.

“Hey, San-ah, thank you for trying,” Seonghwa says, entering the room with the rest of the group. “We had a sold-out stadium, and I am proud of you for getting the section down. We can talk to the arena or Ticketmaster to see if they can share any information with us.”

“You know that is all private information, Hwa-hyung,” chides Jongho. “They can’t give out that information. It probably isn’t anything big. If it was something or someone important, they would have reached out to KQ or RCA Records by now or will soon. Don’t let it bother you much longer.”

“You three need to make sure to get rest for tomorrow, please,” asks Yunho.

San, Hwa, and Mingi sigh at the idea that they can’t find any more information right now. San swears that he almost had it. Mingi knows that it is more important than the others believe. Seonghwa thinks he has finally found what is missing.

Today couldn’t have started any worse! 

First, you were so excited that you didn’t get a proper night's rest because you couldn’t fall asleep, and then you kept waking up, hoping not to sleep through your alarms. 

Second, your car breaks down and won't be ready til Monday, but luckily, it is the dealership's fault, so they give you a rental car. 

Third, your make-up artist, who you paid extra for, is sick, so you get the newbie who can’t do a dramatic eye to save anyone's life.

When you meet up with friends who had pushed you to listen to the K-pop band known as Ateez, things finally turn around. You hadn’t seen the two of them in a couple of years, but because of your mutual delulu (not really) ((well kind of)) love of the eight-membered band coming to Los Angles for their World Tour, you finally got to spend time together pining over some of the hottest men in the world. 

You spent the better part of the first half of 2024 sharing shorts, reels, Facebook posts, and YouTube videos back and forth. Because of those interactions, you realize you don’t have a bias.

True, you did lean towards Seonghwa and San, but then again, you always liked eyes like theirs or Hwa’s unisexual vibes, and even San's boyfriend code made you smile to yourself when he wandered into your daydreams. 

With that in mind, your friends got you a “Baby Atiny Bias package,” which included a photo facecard of San in a cute fuzzy kitty-looking pouch, a SANdeoki mini doll, and a Lightiny with Ateez logo keychain. You shocked them with your excitement to finally have something representing that you were and will always be an Atiny! 

After changing into concert-attending clothes and correcting the failed makeup job, the three of you decided to make your way to the Pop-Up, hoping to get some merch before the concert. This was your first pop-up, and it was at a place called Hello82! By the time you arrived, hardly anything was left, and your friends said you would have better picks at the arena. 

After grabbing some extremely needed coffee due to damn insomnia and the weird dreams of the eight men fawning over you, then some lunch, it was time to head to BMO stadium.

LA traffic sucked on a typical day; add in a K-pop concert, and the Dodgers playing just made it a bajillion times worse. However, parking was a breeze, which was surprising, to say the least. 

That’s when the good times came to a standstill. 

Literally. 

Over three hours of standing in the sun before you finally made it to the front of the merch line, they were sold out of everything you originally wanted besides the Seonghwa picket. So you settled on a sleeveless shirt and the picket.

You decided that you would have to get the Hwa one because you already had all the San stan stuff (s-cubed, you giggled to yourself), and you didn't save up enough to get all eight.

When the three of you needed clarification on which entryway was right, your friend asked a BMO employee, who guided you to the standard line. 

Well, they lied. 

After an hour of waiting in line to go to the standard entrance, you were informed that you actually had floor tickets that required you to enter the other end of the arena.

By this time, BE:FIRST had just taken to the stage, which pissed you off because you loved the new song they collaborated with Ateez on called Hush Hush, and you wanted to support them too. 

Finally making it into the arena, you are still walking to your seats as Ateez takes the stage in their white princely uniforms, making you want to melt on the spot. You weren't normally a lover of white, but you loved them in white. The demon-line looks like angels before their fall right now.

Luckily, the floor tickets came with someone to take you to your seats, so you could at least follow the worker while your eyes never left the stage as Crazy Form kicked off the show. 

Once in your seats, you never used them aside from the strange little intermission video thingies they did. You were standing, yelling, screaming, attempting to sing in Korean, and jumping up and down. You were amazed at the sold-out arena that they had. I'm so lucky to have a master ticket-grabber friend to get these seats.

Spinning around, you noticed another reason for the group to fall even harder: they had American Sign Language interpreters.

With how hard the base was in most of their songs, you knew they had to have a decent following from the Deaf community, and seeing them honor those Atinys almost made you want to cry. Your mom is hard of hearing, so you know ASL also, and your mom was a closet Atiny, but no one will ever know. 

They sang so many songs, and you knew all of them. EEEKK!!

Maybe you were a little obsessed with them over the last two years. But they were mixed in with others like Stray Kids, Astro, ZeroBaseOne, BigOcean, OmegaX, WaveV, and BTS. You had variety in K-pop and even started listening to J-pop and T-pop as well.

As for Western music, don’t ask about anything that happened or who was hot because you hadn’t a clue. Suddenly, the concertgoers around you start screaming their heads off, breaking you out of your inner discussion.

“Look, look! It’s San!” exclaimed your friend Kat while poking you in the side. Pointing over to the section next to you…

There

He

Was

San was there, like… right there, and he was walking this way while singing. 

OUCH

You grip your chest at the sudden tightness. Damn. You knew you would react if you ever got close to any of the K-pop idols you loved, but this was a bit extreme. You lived in LA County. You see actors all the time. It’s no biggy… so why?

Your eyes never left his form as he walked around the section you were in. He is so attentive to all of the Atiny that gain his attention, you notice. Being older than the 7/8s of the group and conscious of the age-haters out there, you sink back, letting the younger fans have their time.

Besides, you are a baby Atiny, and people like your friends Kat and Cindy have wanted to see them since they debuted. Plus, you also had a healthy understanding that they were just people who decided to share their talent with the world. That was another thing you learned living in LA for so long.

“Where did you go?” Cindy asked. “He was right here. You could have gotten some amazing pictures. I bet if you had shown him your SANdeoki, he would have given you at least a high-five.”

Standing back up, you looked around, “Cindy, I am not gonna take his time away from others that are bigger stans than I am. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, sure, you just got nervous meeting one of your crushes,” Kat teased you. “If Seonghwa came down, you would have spontaneously combusted.”

“I think after the looks she gave Mingi, SanHwa now has competition for their spot as her bias,” Cindy laughed. 

“Oh, quite you two. You guys know that I have a hard time picking my favorites. I have an easier time picking ones that I would have a harder time meeting, like Jongho, Lee Know, or Seokjin. Those guys scare me with their seriousness.”

As the eight members said their goodbyes, your chest got even tighter, and your eyes started to well up. Why does it feel like you are leaving a part of yourself behind?

My goodness.

You had heard of post-concert depression, but you thought that was a joke. You attended a N*SYNC concert as a little girl and even a Creed Concert in college, but you never cried when the show was over. 

That is when you heard the laughing. Looking up at your friends, they are trying their best not to bust a gut as they watch you lamenting over the end of the nearly three-and-a-half-hour show. Glaring at them playfully, you stood up to leave but noticed a group of fans sticking around in a section near the stage.

“What is that for?” you ask.

“Oh, they must have VIP with send-off included,” offers Kat.

“What is a send-off?”

“It’s when the bands come out and meet fans, sign some stuff, take pictures, blah blah blah as they leave the venue they are in,” she clarifies. “Those were sold out before I could get them. Actually, all the VIP stuff was gone in the blink of an eye.”

“Coachella totally boosted their American Atiny numbers,” commented Cindy.

“I almost went to Coachella. You know Bethany? She works with Coachella and a few other festivals around here. She offered me to join the team for the first weekend because they were short-staffed, but I couldn’t swing it,” you said as you headed up the stairs to exit. “I wish I had said yes because she got to meet them all. She says that San and Wooyoung are a total couple, and the Twin Towers are too.”

“Well, I am glad you didn’t go, or I wouldn’t have been able to have our first Ateez concert as a memory, plus YOUR first K-pop concert EVER!!!” screamed Kat!

“Well, now that all of BMO knows,” giggled Cindy.

Laughing along with them, you rub your chest, still feeling a tightness you swear is pulling you to the stage area.

Ignoring the strange and slightly painful pull in your chest because you are not a delulu American sasaeng, you take a deep breath and focus on your photos.

“Holy Shit! I have over 700 photos and videos!”

“Yeah, and wasn’t she just mumbling about not being a sasaeng?” questions Cindy as you get to the car to go home. 

“Well, I have until the Stray Kids concert next year to go through them all and widdle it down to my favorites. That way, I can take 800 of Felix and Bang Chan,” you snark back. 

Buckling up your seat belt, you can’t help but keep your eyes on the BMO Stadium. Your chest gets tighter and tighter as you get farther away. Your mom has always mentioned following your instincts because they would know better than anything your mind will tell you.

So why are your instincts telling you that you left something important behind?

Next

Permanent Taglist - OPEN

@bethanysnow @braveangel777 @danielle143 @elliegrace1999

Series Taglist - OPEN

@nenefix-on @dimeb29

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 7. The All Hands Meeting

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: A look into a typical day at Miller Construction Group. Chaos ensues (naturally).

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Desk sex, Inappropriate usage of PowerPoint, Tommy fucks around and finds out, No Beta we die like men!

Word Count: 4.4K

A/N: And the hijinks are back! I wanted to try something new this week, and it was the perfect opportunity to showcase all of our fun supporting characters in 'The Girl in IT'! I thought what better way to introduce everyone was to include their commentary, like an episode of 'The Office'! This one is a doozy, and I hope you all enjoy!

#MCG ADMIN 50 members Sarah (HR) Good morning, Team! I hope you're all doing well. I'd like to announce a mandatory All-Hands HR Meeting today at 11 am in Conference Room A, co-facilitated by Tess and me. We'll have a brief presentation, and for those working remotely, please log into Zoom to join the meeting. Following the session, thanks to Bill, we'll have lunch and refreshments provided. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions. Looking forward to seeing all of you soon! Tommy  Sarah, are you gonna bust your Papi's balls in front of everyone for posting that naughty photo? 💀☠️🪦 Frank (Interior Design) Will there be an opportunity for discussion following the presentation? I'm eager to delve into the minds of SlackGate and understand the motivations behind their actions the other day. Connie (Reception) It's clearly because they're fucking, Frank. 🍆🍑🦪 Frank (Interior Design) Who is? Our fearless leader and our shy girl in IT? Until one of them makes it official, it's just hearsay! Is this meeting a hard launch for a new power couple? 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 Sarah (HR) Yes, there will be an open-forum discussion after my presentation but NO, we will not be talking about the events of the other day in detail. Connie, this is a professional space and we will conduct ourselves as such. Connie (Reception) Why am I always being singled out?? Frank started it! Frank (Interior Design) Did I not professionally conduct myself? Geez Connie, I'm not the one sending nudes to our Boss when clearly, he has a girlfriend. Wait. Oops? (Sorry Connie 🤡) Bill (Civil) Frank! What do I have to do to get you to behave for once? Frank (Interior Design) Oh, I could think of a few ways... Why don't you come and find out once you're done handling your bratwurst out there? Sarah (HR) I don't get paid enough for this shit.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming together at such short notice. While I'm aware this all-hands meeting was abrupt, recent events in the past few days have made it essential. Tess and I genuinely appreciate your presence as we address these important matters," Sarah says with a bright smile, handing out materials. "Here's an updated Employee Handbook with a few edits. I thought it would be beneficial for us to go through it together. Are there any questions before we begin?"

"Yeah!" Tommy exclaims from the back of the room, his feet casually resting against the edge of the table. "How long until we get to the part of this meeting where we discuss just how much of a bad boy your Daddy was the other day?"

Tommy Look, I love my brother, I do. He's always so serious, so noble, providing for everyone and all that, making sure we have a roof over our heads. Shit, he's gotten me out of a lot of binds in my life- [He looks a bit uncomfortable and clears his throat, nodding.] ... anyway, it's a rare thing to see my brother slip up like that, you know? Didn't think he had it in him, honestly. It's been a few decades since I've seen his twig and berries, but shit, I know he's packing! He's a Miller, for fucks sake!  [he puffs his chest out a little at that, chuckling to himself] But Sugar? She's been a fucking godsend! Never in my life have I seen my big ol brother act a fool, especially over a woman! What can I say? It's great to not be the fuck-up brother for once! I'm gonna milk out SlackGate til the end of time!

"Tommy," Joel warns through his teeth, glaring at his brother. "Cut it out."

Sarah rolls her eyes in response as she fiddles with her laptop, the projector behind her illuminating with her PowerPoint presentation. "Like I was saying, this presentation is just going to go over the changes we have implemented in the last few days, including proper Slack etiquette and conduct. You would think that as grown adults, we would know better than sending inappropriate images and messages through company property and time," she clears her throat, glancing over at Joel, then to Tommy, who winks in her direction knowingly. "...including those who decide to engage and participate in unsanctioned secret channels-"

Frank's hand suddenly shoots up, his face awash in mock outrage. "I'll have you know, the watercooler channel serves a purpose, folks! When I caught wind of this 'secret channel' gossip circulating among the Nosy Nancies in the breakroom, I was appalled! Who would dare to stoop so low—"

"Frank, you invited me to the chat just this morning," Jesse remarks, casually holding up his phone as evidence. "It's titled 'Frank's-secret-slack-chat.' I thought it was some kind of exclusive club or something."

Frank Hi, [waves to you] is this on? Yeah? Hi. I'm Frank.   Listen, Sarah was getting a little too vigilant about monitoring Slack ever since Tommy sent us a little treat last year [he laughs] so I had to do something about it, you know? [It pans out to Frank leaning against his desk chair, typing away on his secret Slack Chat.] The chat started as an open forum for discussion on the everyday going-ons of Miller Construction Group. Do we just so happen to discuss the private lives of our peers? Maybe. Do we mean any harm by it?  [He gives you a wicked smile] Maybe.

"You guys, you know, the longer I keep getting interrupted, the longer we're all going to stay here in this conference room, and the longer we have to wait to eat Bill's food. You know how he is," She looks outside of the window, the smoke from Bill's grill swirls like a plume as he flips over a juicy steak. "He hates it when he has to serve his food cold. As I was saying, it should be obvious that we shouldn't be sending inappropriate images or photos to one another through Slack or e-mail."

"Hey! It was just one time, and it was an accident!" Tommy retorts, "Besides, it was hardly inappropriate, I was just only trying to show Maria this weird rash I got-"

"What does that mean, anyway?" Connie cuts in, casting a glance your way. "Inappropriate photos? And is there a difference between accidentally sending them or doing it on purpose?"

"Yeah," you shoot her a pointed look. "Sending nude photos to someone who doesn't want them is actually considered sexual harassment," you say, raising your voice a bit and turning in your seat. "I mean, you could get arrested for that, Connie," you add with a sing-song tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you glance at her. "You have nothing to worry about though, right?" you challenge, rolling your chair towards Joel, and taking his hand in his. "Not unless you did send naked photos to my boyfriend?"

Connie Look, I didn't know that Mr. Miller and Sugar were boning. I know how this looks- like I don't believe in girl code or something. I am a girls girl! If Sugar was just forthcoming about who gave her those damn hickeys before SlackGate happened, I wouldn't have sent her boyfriend nude photos of myself! A girl's gotta try, you know? I was only trying to shoot my shot! [She looks a bit uncomfortable, picking at a hangnail.] ... but you have to admit, Mr. Miller is H-O-T hot. God. I love me a graying man in flannel. I always thought to myself, there must be a story here. How does a millionaire who looks like that be single all this time? does he have anyone? is it a sugar baby? does he have a secret love child? I mean-  [she looks over her shoulder where Joel is, arms around his chest as he winks at Sugar. There's a hint of jealousy in Connie's eyes.] Is it true, though? Is it really sexual harassment if I send unsolicited photos of myself? Do you think he's gonna press charges? 

"It's true. Sending unsolicited photos of yourself to unsuspecting parties is sexual harassment, Connie. Not to mention creepy," Sarah winces, shooting you an apologetic smile. "So please don't be sending any photos of that nature to anyone that you work with, especially not in the admin group Slack."

"Yeah, Joel!" Tommy chides. "Keep that shlong in your pants, brother!"

Sarah You would think that working for my family is a cakewalk? Please. I've been diagnosed with IBS and GAD since I started working here five years ago. I sometimes take half an edible just to make it to lunchtime.   [Her head rests on her desk, and as the events of SlackGate unfold, an endless barrage of messages from the admin Slack channel floods her monitor. She can't help but groan in response.] Listen. I love my Dad. I've never really had to worry about his behavior at work before, not like how I have to with Uncle Tommy... but what the hell was he thinking? I can't unsee that! What if Ellie was on that chat? Could you imagine the trauma? My trauma?

"Okay, let's turn to page 12, where we'll go over all the recent updates," Sarah announces, clicking through her PowerPoint. A collective gasp echoes in the room as the slide projects onto the screen, revealing an image – the image of Joel. However, where his exposed package would be, an eggplant emoji tastefully takes its place. It resembles one of those generic memes easily made with a phone app, complete with the semi-imposed words 'Keep Calm and Shlong On!' in big bold letters.

"Shit!" she exclaims, hurriedly pressing the ESC button as she tries to close out her PowerPoint. She slams her laptop shut, the tell-tell sound of a crack echoing throughout the conference room. You hear Tess silently scoff in the distance, and Sarah closes her eyes in embarrassment as the room falls silent.

... and then, all hell breaks loose.  

Tommy is beside himself, his face red, and his eyes filled with tears as he doubles over in laughter, clutching at his middle. "Shit, Henry! When I asked you to do this, I honestly didn't think you had the balls to go through with it, but I so owe you, my man!" he exclaims, enthusiastically high-fiving his nephew-in-law. "This is the best fucking day of my life!"

"Henry?!" Sarah exclaims, her face flushed with rage. "This is what you needed to do in the office at 6 am this morning?!"

Henry's expression crumbles as he witnesses his wife's ire, suddenly realizing that he's just dug himself into a deep hole. "Sarah," he stammers, attempting to regain composure. "This isn't what it looks like—"

Henry Yeah, Tommy asked me to put that meme into Sarah's PowerPoint last night. I would have done it at home, but Sarah doesn't like to bring her laptop home, you know, work-life balance? So I had to make an excuse to come to the office this morning. Was it a dumb ass idea? Yeah, probably. Did I kind of want to get back at Sarah's dad for making my life a living hell? [He looks at you awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.] Honestly, when you're like five beers in, drinking with Tommy- everything seems like a good idea. He dared me, you know? Said that I'm such a simp, trying to always please Joel. Called me a fucking pussy and everything! What else was I supposed to do? Sarah's going to kill me, huh? Do you think that she's gonna ask for a divorce?

"It's a meme. A meme of my Dad's dick pic with AN EGGPLANT EMOJI?!?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??! WHAT DID YOU MEAN FOR IT TO LOOK LIKE?!" she screams, pulling at her hair. "AND YOU, TOMMY MILLER!" she points at her uncle furiously, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??!"

"Baby," Henry replies, his hands raised in an attempt to calm her down. "It's just a harmless prank, look—"

"No, you look, Henry! Does it seem like it's just a harmless prank?" she gestures to the room, her eyes wide. "Don't even think about coming to bed tonight. I can't even look at you! How dare you collaborate with Tommy, do you really want to go this way? Because I see you fucking around, and you're about to find out-"

"Oh come on, Sarah! you know these all-hands meetings are dull as fuck, I don't even know why you even bother, no one ever listens anyway!" Tommy exclaims, looking around the room. "Isn't this fun you guys? Come on, lighten up! It's not like y'all haven't seen my dick before! Your Papi's gonna live another day, I think we should all feel as comfortable as we want, fuck the rules!"

"...but Joel's is much bigger than yours!" someone yells amid the chaos, laughter, and banter echoing through the room. Sarah looks around helplessly in a panic, trying to grasp the situation unfolding.

"Hey! I'll have you know that I ain't small!" Tommy yells in retaliation.

"Do you think that this is helping, Uncle Tommy? I'm beginning to believe that the only reason why people don't take me seriously is because of all of the shit that you pull!" Sarah groans, looking like she's at the end of her rope. "I could mention that Tess is helping me facilitate this meeting to scare everyone but she's just off to the side, pretending to not be drinking under the table!"  

Tess [She is sitting off to the side, smiling to herself as the chaos ensues, shaking her head.] I am drinking, because who else thinks it's appropriate to call an all-hands meeting first thing in the morning? I don't even want to be here. It's so fucking pointless, trying to get these shitheads to conform to a set of rules.   [She witnesses Joel storming up to Tommy, his face full of rage and irritation, finger pointed right at him.] This is the consequence of hiring friends and family, isn't it? I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but who's listening to me? I get it, everyone thinks I'm a bit of a bitch, and well... yeah, I am. Alright, time to rein this in— [She suddenly stands from her seat and walks over to Sarah, who appears to be disassociating into madness.]

"HEY!" Tess bellows, clapping her hands together. The room abruptly falls silent, Joel's hands frozen mid-grab on Tommy's flannel. Forty-eight pairs of eyes pivot towards Tess, a blend of shock and embarrassment spreading across their faces, reminiscent of children caught sneaking cookies from the jar by their mother. "Okay, that's enough!"

Her eyes are narrowed, hands on her hips. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to stop sending each other dick and tit pics through Slack, because as much as it is amusing," she smirks, winking at you, "I would really rather not have to deal with the fallout that comes with it," she shoots a pointed look at Connie, whose eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.  

"The next time someone tries to fuck around and find out? I'm going to take that dirty photo, print a thousand fucking copies of it and stick that shit all over the office. Every fucking inch, every fucking nook and cranny is just gonna be dick and tit central," she paces around the room, placing a warning hand on Frank's shoulder. "As for this secret Slack chat, I'm going to give you all one chance to come clean. If you don't, and Sugar's report doesn't match who outs themselves right now," She scans the room, a smirk on the corner of her mouth appearing in satisfaction. "Yeah, you didn't think that we were monitoring that shit, huh? Well, I'll throw you all a bone: raise your hands if you are in this secret group chat, and I'll consider not docking your pay for insubordination. Your choice."

Frank [Looking at Tess as she slightly stumbles from where she's standing.] Yeah, she's toast.

The majority of the room begins to raise their hands, except you, Tess, Joel, and surprisingly, Frank.

Tess scoffs. "Really Frank? Really?"

"I have no clue what you're trying to imply, and seriously Tess? Are you really going to play that card? Are you going to dock your pay too?" Frank retorts. "I mean, just last night, you were drunkenly telling me that you heard Joel and Sugar-"

"If you utter another word, I'll fire you on the spot, Frank!" Joel shouts from across the room. "I mean it this time!"

Joel and Sugar [Joel wraps his arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your forehead while gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ears.] There, that's better. Don't hide your face, Mami; you're too beautiful to be hiding all of that, okay? Right, [he clears his throat.] You would think that people would be a little more professional around here, show me a bit of respect— [His gaze shifts to Tommy, who's engaged in laughter and banter with the team, his chest puffed out in triumph. Joel glares at him, shaking his head.] I'd like to think I try really hard to be a good boss. I pay fairly, I allow remote work, and damn it, I take pride in offering the best employee benefits in all of Austin. We even take a company trip to Hawaii every year, for fucks sake! [You squeeze his hand, pressing a kiss to his temple as he takes a frustrated breath.] Papi, if it means anything, I think you're the best boss any of these folks could ever ask for. They don't deserve you. [Joel nods.] Look, I don't know what to tell you. I got the ride of my life that morning, my sweet Mami riding my cock just right, you know? I would have been okay, going into my meeting with blue balls, just as long as Sugar got hers. Your pleasure is my pleasure... but I was just so fucking horny! I started to work out, yeah? Wanted to keep shit tight for my baby, and fuck, I was... what do they young kids say?   Feeling yourself? [Joel nods again, smiling at you.] Yeah, 'feeling myself' or whatever. Anyway, I was in the meeting, and you messaged me, right? saying that you weren't going to be in for lunch? and I don't know if was the disappointment, or if I was just too horny, but fuck. I quickly excused myself and took a quick dick pic in my bathroom. I thought I was in the right Slack channel... so I sent it, and then the guys at The H Group asked me a whole bunch of questions, and then an hour later- Chaos. The messages kept flooding in! Frank was asking about how long I was, and Connie was sending me nude photos of herself- in my fucking office! Wait, what? [Your gaze meets Connie's, nervously seated as Frank goes on and on beside her. Her hands twitch like a possum that just got run over by an 18-wheeler. Yeah. Squirm for me, you think to yourself.] Yeah! And I just sat there, in shock, you know? Like this is the kind of shit that Tommy pulls, and I couldn't believe that I was so fucking stupid! Can you imagine the kind of therapy Sarah's gonna need? What if Ellie saw this?

"Who's up for some snacks?" Tommy calls out to the team, holding a basket filled with rather sizable cucumbers, bananas, and eggplants. "Help yourselves, compliments of Joel!"

Ellie  [at the job site across town, hard hat fixed crookedly on top of her head.] Yeah, I saw it. There is not enough bleach in this world that could ever erase that image from my existence.   [she glares at Sam, who just shrugs.] Thanks a lot, asshole!

"Alright, you degenerates!" Bill booms, bursting through the conference doors wearing a 'Kiss the Cook' apron, tongs in one hand, and a tray piled high with thickly cut steaks in the other. "This steak isn't going to eat itself!" 

The team swarms Bill like seagulls spotting a tasty piece of bread on the boardwalk. Tommy grabs a t-bone with his bare hands, biting into it with the enthusiasm of a caveman.

"Hey," Joel whispers to you, his shoulder gently bumping yours. "Want to help me with something?" You nod eagerly as Joel swiftly guides you out of the conference room, heading towards the executive offices. You giggle as Joel ushers you into the room, pulling you into a kiss, his foot playfully kicking the door shut.

He moves the both of you over to where Tommy's desk is, pushing aside its contents off the tabletop in one fell swoop, the items clattering onto the floor. "Papi, what are you doing?" you ask cheekily as he bends you over the desk, lifting your skirt.  

Joel growls and shoves you down onto the desk, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. Your arms scramble to find purchase as you knock over a framed photo of Tommy and Maria, watching helplessly as the image of their smiling faces falls onto the floor. His palm travels across your back, pinning you in place as he fiddles with his zipper with his other hand. "Line item 6," Joel murmurs as his hands begin to travel across the globes of your ass, squeezing and spreading and slapping them until you're so wet you can feel it dripping down your thighs.  

Joel hums in appreciation. "Thats right Mami, get nice and wet for me, okay?" You can feel him pump his cock against you, notching his head at your entrance. "You gonna make a nice mess for me, baby?" he asks through gritted teeth as he strokes through your folds with his dick.

"Yesss," you moan, pushing your ass back toward him.  

Joel pushes into you to the hilt in one brutal thrust as you cry out, grabbing onto the edge of the desk as he begins to pound into you in earnest, his thrusts so hard and punishing that the desk begins to rattle. You squeeze your eyes shut as Joel gathers your hair in his hand, pulling you back towards him. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna come so fucking hard, fill this pussy up and watch as it drips out of you, maybe fuck you again if we still have time-"

You gasp, taking a deep breath as his thrusts become so erratic it pushes you up the desk, lifting one leg onto the surface as Joel angles himself higher, hitting a spot so deep within you that you bite your lip from crying out, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. You squeeze around his cock as you chase your high, hoping that Joel can maintain his composure long enough so you both can finish together. "No Mami, stay with me, come with me-"

He leans over you, pressing you onto the desk as he grabs onto your shoulders, pounding into you, his breath hot against your neck as he buries his face into it, huffing from exertion. "I'm so close Mami, I'm gonna... Fuck!" He bites your shoulder as he cums in one last brutal stroke, his hands harshly grasping your thighs as you feel his hot spend flow deep into your belly. You rock your hips onto him as his hand goes to your clit, rubbing until you are weak in the knees, your body trembling beneath his. "Fuck Joel," you say a little breathless as you slump onto the table as Joel pulls out of you, his finger probing into you as he pushes his leaking cum back where it belongs. "Come on, lets clean this up and head back before they notice-"

Joel just snorts as he zips up his jeans. "No," he replies nonchalantly as he catches his breath. 

"No?" you ask as you straighten yourself up, frowning at him.  

"Line item six says I bend you over his desk and leave a little souvenir," he motions to the mess on the floor, pens and papers scattered about.  

"He's going to fucking murder you, Joel," you chuckle, pulling him into a kiss.  

"Yeah? Well, he shouldn't have fucked around, because he's about to find out." He simply replies, taking your hand in his. "Come on, little Mami, quickly now, before he realizes we're gone..."

You share a laugh as he guides you back into the conference room. Bill raises an eyebrow at both of you, handing over a plate with steaming steak, as if he just finished cooking it. "I thought I'd save your lunches for last, figured you guys needed some extra time," he says, clearing his throat and nodding towards Tommy, who seems entirely oblivious to your brief disappearance. "You know Tommy, can't resist a good piece of steak," Bill continues, gesturing at Joel. "It's like everything around him disappears for a moment; you could rob him blind, and he wouldn't even notice," he adds with a small smile, placing a hand on Joel's shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "Enjoy your lunch, you two."

Bill Look, I wouldn't call myself a nosy person, but I am perceptive.   [He glances at Frank whispering and giggling to Connie off to the side, rolling his eyes.] Look at them. They think that they're the eyes and ears of this operation, but what they don't know, is that I. Know. Everything. I am a survivalist. I gather intel on all of my surroundings, even if I am surrounded by absolute morons.   [Bill takes another sip of coffee, subtly glancing around him before making eye contact with you, the reader, once more] So if you want to know the real scoop, the real ins-and-outs of this company, and not have to deal with the lunatics in Frank's not-so-secret shit talk club, come to me, I'll set you on the right path. At least I have snacks.   [He looks off to you and Joel, giving a curt nod as he starts to cut into his own steak.] As much as I respect Tommy, he's not the one signing my checks at the end of the day. If there's anything that I value more than anything, it's loyalty. I don't like to play around, hate it when people bite the hands that feed them. People like that need to be taught a lesson. Joel's a good man, and sometimes, we fuck up... but it's how we handle ourselves after the fact that matters. If that means I help out an old friend, well- [he smiles as Tommy walks towards the conference room doors, heading back to his office. Bill smiles out into the distance.]

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[simons-purplehoodie]

Sunday Snippet

This snippet is from Ch 1 of my new fic I’ve recently started working on called “Hard to Break.” Hopefully I’ll have enough chapters written in advance to start posting it soon! Anyone ready for a lil roommates to lovers? 👀

Eventually Simon packs up his homework and heads into the bedroom when his eyes start to become tired and he sees Marcus getting ready for bed. Simon doesn’t exactly know what to say so he stays quiet, sliding out of his pants and into his boxers. He takes off his shirt too like he usually does as he hears Marcus slide under the covers, but instead of getting in bed too he heads to one of his drawers. He usually sleeps with no shirt on but for some reason now he just feels too exposed like this, like the ache in his heart will be visible if he doesn’t have something to cover it, so he opens the drawer and takes out an oversized shirt of his and slides it on.

He turns the light off and climbs into bed, lifting up the covers and pulling them over himself, leaving some space between himself and Marcus’ back where his boyfriend is on his side and facing the wall away from him.

“Goodnight,” he whispers out into the darkness, reaching out to touch his boyfriend’s arm gently. His boyfriend just shifts farther from him in response and Simon sighs, turning over onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. He knows that Marcus is just more of an emotional person than he is, and that he deals with conflict differently, but Simon wishes that sometimes it could be easier to resolve things with the person he loves.

He lies awake for a while, looking at the sliver of moonlight coming in from the little gap in the curtains. He just wishes he knew what it was he did that was so wrong.

[wonderingsoftly]

His Little Sister

so theo and charlotte have kind of become a lot more than i expected them to, and i also wanted to draw and write some wlw wg stuff too (though not quite in this chapter yet), so prepare to meet his little sister.

but it's still got a lot of exploration on theo's feelings and the liberation being fat has brought him. and this will...inevitably rub off on his sister and her girlfriend. it ended up growing (fattening? ha) into several chapters...which, for someone who's into this kind of stuff, kind of makes sense.

next

---

Chapter 1

Theo stared ahead blankly as Charlotte walked in through the front door, keys jingling while she absent-mindedly hummed a tune. He could feel her look at the couch, where he knew she would find him, but she slowed to a stop when she saw his frozen, almost-horrified expression.

He was sitting rod-straight near the edge of the couch, a very unusual position for him given how he usually preferred taking up as much of the cushions as possible. He fidgeted nervously with his slacks, his dress shirt still buttoned, instead of undone and relaxed–and he could feel her demeanor change.

“Theo…?” Charlotte asked in a way that made his stomach drop. He knew never looked like this. At least, not in recent memory.

Theo didn't move, almost scared to really acknowledge her entrance. “Hey, Babe,” he made himself reply, beyond distracted.

“Is everything okay?” Charlotte moved to Theo’s side, gently running her fingers through his short, curly blond hair and then carefully caressing his fat cheek. Her touch briefly shook him from his agitation, but it wasn’t for long.

“Yeah, I, uh,” he started to stammer, gripping his pants hard. “My sister. She, uh, got in touch with me.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened and she moved her hand to Theo’s huge, soft shoulder.

His family was a part of his life he had left behind by the time he had first met Charlotte. But he had made the mistake of giving his mother the benefit of the doubt when she reached out to him a few years ago–a while after he had started gaining weight.

His mom was displeased, to say the least. Theo quickly remembered and Charlotte quickly discovered why he went no contact with his parents when he left for college–but unfortunately that meant he had to leave his little sister behind.

There was a significant age gap between them, Theo being a whole 10 years older, but he still deeply cared for her and in a part of his heart, hidden and locked away, he yearned to see her again.

Charlotte bit her lip. “...Rachel?”

The sound of his sister’s name coming from his beloved wife’s mouth was like a shock to his system. What had happened right before Charlotte came home was very real. And becoming very scary to Theo.

Theo nodded absently, still looking straight ahead. He could feel himself starting to tremble.

“Theo, isn't that a good thing? You said your parents kept her from talking to you…” she tried to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “So if she reached out, that means she’s not living with them anymore. Or something else changed in a big way.”

Theo’s eyes started to dart around, like he was looking for the next words to say.

This was not lost on Charlotte, whose own concern was becoming rather unbearable.

“Theodore. Talk to me.”

The use of his full name somehow snapped his attention to her face, and his eyes were wide with fear.

“I…I somehow–I don’t know why–invited her to come see us this weekend. She’s close by, actually living with her girlfriend.”

He saw the tension in Charlotte’s shoulders quickly deflate and she let out a relieved, almost choking sigh.

“Well, company is nothing new for us, we have our friends over all the time,” she said with a small smile.

He tried not to groan. She still didn’t understand why he was terrified. He almost didn’t understand why he was terrified. It shouldn’t have been affecting him like this. He thought he had long-outgrown this part of himself.

Theo’s eyes remained frightened. “Char, I haven’t seen her in years.”

Charlotte tilted her head in confusion. “Yeah, and?”

“Years, Charlotte,” he repeated, emphasizing each word, his eyes now full of fear and expectation, silently begging her to connect the dots.

And then with a flash of surprise on her face, it hit her. She looked down at Theo’s enormous body, his fat leg now bouncing nervously–making all of him tremble, and trailed her gaze all the way back up to his face.

There was a little relief for Theo in Charlotte’s realization, but his heart was starting to ache from the fear in his chest.

The last time Rachel saw her big brother, Theo was most certainly not the mountain of fat he was now. Big, sure, but not like this.

Her confusion gave way to heavy realization and she nodded, a grimace trying to take over her lips.

“I invited her over, Charlotte, what kind of an idiot am I? I told her I’d put on some weight, but I didn’t tell her I’m the size of a house now…” Theo put his head in his hands and groaned.

He was panicking like he used to when he was lighter. Scared. Insecure.

He could feel Charlotte’s heart began to break. And that made him feel even worse.

“Hey, hey, Theo,” she knelt down to be level with Theo’s face, gently slipping her hand past his and onto his cheek. She pulled his face to look at hers, giving him a sympathetic smile. His eyes were burning, tears starting to blur his vision. “Do we need to make a change?”

His stomach dropped at the question. Theo’s eyes moistened with more tears and he gripped Charlotte’s hand in his–warm and soft. This broke the dam of his emotions and now he found himself able to articulate why he was so scared.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m not making sense…I don’t want to change us. I like being this big, I just…” he trailed off, giving Charlotte’s hand a hesitant kiss. “I don’t want to scare her. She was 10 and I was already way bigger than her when I left, and who knows what kind of stuff Mom’s told her about me since…you know.”

A grim flash of an abandoned memory entered Theo’s mind, but he quickly stamped it down.

Charlotte nodded in understanding, moving to plant a little kiss on Theo’s forehead. She let her lips linger on his skin, warm and agitated from his nerves. He could smell her soothing, citrus perfume on her neck and chest.

“Was she happy to talk to you?” she asked, pulling away enough to see his face.

He nodded quietly, looking down at the floor for a moment.

Charlotte gave his fat cheek a soft pinch, making him respond with a brief smile. “And were you happy to talk to her?”

“I was. Which…is why I invited her over. And her girlfriend, too. I just wanted to see her again and didn’t think it through very far.”

She replied with a laughing hum, which started to soothe Theo’s frayed nerves. “So…it’s not the weekend just yet, right? Do you want to tell her the details about who you are now? Or should we cancel until you’re ready?”

Theo gave her a rueful smile and nod, reaching his pudgy hand for her thigh and giving it a squeeze. “Well, when you make it sound so simple like that…”

“You miss her. She probably misses you, otherwise she wouldn’t have called. And if she wants to see you, she deserves the chance to decide for herself what she thinks of her big,” Charlotte grinned and emphasized by giving his belly a squeeze, “big brother.”

Theo was disarmed by Charlotte’s squeeze and laughed, making his belly shake.

“Ugh, sorry,” he sighed after a moment, feeling a bit embarrassed and rubbing his eyes. “I haven't been like this in a long time, huh?”

Charlotte shook her head, playfully and gently pulling at the small, blond curls on his head.

“You got worried, it’s okay. You care a lot about your sister. You finally get the chance to reconnect…I’d be nervous too.”

Theo quickly wrapped a fat arm around Charlotte and pulled her into a hug, planting a kiss on the crown of her dark head.

“What would I do without you?” he murmured, nuzzling her hair.

“Do you want me to message Rachel and…warn her about your size?” Charlotte’s voice was tender.

Theo gave her head another grateful kiss. “No, I’ll do it. I’ve gotta be brave. I’m the big brother, after all.”

***

Rachel paced back and forth in the living room of the apartment she shared with her girlfriend of two years, Lee. Her long, blond curls bounced around her shoulders with every step she took.

“Nervous, Doll?” Lee, a tall, lanky woman with long, pin-straight, dark brown hair, teased. She was reclined on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table in front of her.

Rachel merely gave her a withering look before coming to a stop in the middle of the floor.

“Why am I so scared to see him again? It's Theo…he’s always been so nice to me…” she groaned, sliding her hands over her hair and pulling it back behind her neck.

“Cause it's been ages since you've seen him. It's normal.” Lee reached her hand out to Rachel, giving a pleading pout for her to come sit next to her.

“Lee…” Rachel whined, shuffling over to her around the coffee table and landing with a soft crash. Lee’s long, straight hair fluttered with the air sent from Rachel’s descent. Lee wrapped her arm around Rachel’s shoulder and she pressed a kiss to her temple.

“And he said he’s gained a lot of weight since I last saw him…like why would he warn me about that? Won’t he still look like himself? Why would he say that?” Rachel gestured a little wildly, shaking herself against Lee’s body.

“Oh, my poor little worrywart,” Lee teased again, gently stroking Rachel’s curls.

“Come on…” Rachel whined again, burying her face in Lee’s chest. “I mean, my mom said all that stuff about him being fat and useless…”

Lee replied with an unimpressed grunt. “And, pardon my language, you remember that your mom’s a piece of shit, right? Wouldn't let you talk to him forever?”

Rachel gave Lee a conceding moan, muffled against Lee’s shirt.

“And so what if he’s fat? He’s still your brother, and you wanna see him again. ‘s all there is to it.” Lee tilted Rachel’s head up to peer at her and give her a toothy smile. “Besides, guys look better with some meat on their bones anyway.”

Rachel gave Lee a pout and a sigh. Lee tried to catch her gaze, but Rachel looked away in childlike defiance.

Lee snorted and shook her head. “He’s happily married too, yeah, and has a good job? Obviously things are working out for him.” She finished by kissing Rachel’s nose, grabbing a little of her attention again.

“Plus, he invited us over for dinner, so if he is fat, then the food’s gonna be killer!” Lee added with a goofy waggle of her eyebrows.

“Lee!” Rachel said with humorous indignation, batting a balled fist at her arm.

“What? You were the one talking about it! I’m just giving you some pros to balance out whatever cons you got rolling around in that pretty head of yours.”

Rachel rolled her eyes and sat up away from Lee, wringing her hands together. Lee let out an apologetic sigh, sitting up and scooting close to her.

“I know this is important to you. I’m sorry. But he invited you to see him not even five minutes into your call. I don't know the guy, but it's obvious he still loves you.”

Rachel looked at Lee, taking her hand and intertwining her fingers in Lee’s long ones.

“Forget anything your parents ever said about him. I’ll be there with you, too.” Lee gave Rachel’s hand a squeeze.

“Yeah,” Rachel replied, her heart racing just a little bit slower now.

***

The day had arrived. Theo sat nervously on the couch, acutely aware today of just how large he was. He fiddled with the end of his unbuttoned shirt, taking a deep breath to try and settle his leaping stomach.

He glanced at Charlotte, who was walking back and forth between the kitchen and the dinner table, proudly setting huge dishes down. The smell was amazing, Charlotte pulling out all the stops to impress her sister-in-law (and perhaps soothe Theo once they were all seated at the table.)

A sudden knock at the door made Theo jump to his feet with a substantial thud, surprising him and Charlotte. He looked at her with reluctance and nervously patted his belly.

Charlotte laughed and waved Theo to the door, giving him a reassuring nod.

Theo waddled himself to the door, taking one more large breath in and out before turning the knob and opening.

She looked older now, but it was unmistakably his little sister–her curly blonde hair was unforgettable and her big, round eyes and full cheeks made him feel like he was saying goodbye to her again all those years ago.

A nostalgic, longing feeling grabbed his heart and he let out a sharp exhale.

“Theo…?” Rachel asked nervously, looking up at him, her eyes wide with shock–though Theo wasn't sure if it was the reunion itself or his gigantic body that was causing her reaction.

“It’s good to see you, Rachel,” Theo finally spoke, embarrassed heat prickling the back of his neck. He looked at her, unsure of what else to say.

With a grunt, Rachel practically slammed into Theo’s belly, hugging him tightly. Theo’s heart leapt into his throat as he processed what was happening, but wasted no time in wrapping his huge arms around his little sister.

He could feel her gripping the back of his shirt, muffled weeping starting to shake her body against his. He carefully stroked her hair, a warm smile creeping across his face.

He then realized that there was another, taller figure nearby and he looked up sheepishly at Lee. She was smiling, her long hair and blunt bangs curtaining her face.

“Sorry, you must be Lee,” Theo said warmly, patting Rachel’s head as she continued to cling to him.

Lee chuckled, shaking her head. “No worries, it's nice to finally meet you. Rachel’s been wearing a path in our carpet all week cause she’s been so excited to see you.”

Theo heard Rachel groan, her face now half-emerging from his pillowy chest.

“Lee…likes to tease me.”

He laughed, making his belly bounce as he patted Rachel’s head again. He offered a hand out to Lee, who took it in a firm handshake.

“Please come in, Charlotte’s got dinner ready on the table.”

***

Rachel managed to peel herself from her brother long enough to walk into his and Charlotte’s roomy home and wipe the sudden tears from her eyes.

All the anxiety she felt during the week seemed like a distant memory now. While she was shocked for a split second at the size of the man who opened the door, she immediately recognized him as her kind, loving brother.

He was so soft and warm, moreso now than any memory she had had told her. His deep, gentle voice, his short, curly hair; his kind, dark eyes.

He was still Theo. There was just way more of him than there used to be.

She felt Lee place her hand on her lower back in reassurance and smiled. Rachel watched as Theo waddled himself to the dining table and then as Charlotte came out from behind him, her dark, wavy hair billowing out around her head–a wide, excited smile on her face.

Charlotte pulled Rachel into a surprisingly firm hug, Rachel catching the smell of her citrusy perfume before she released her and went to hug Lee.

Rachel looked at Theo, who lovingly watched Charlotte, and smiled.

Maybe that was the biggest relief of all.

He looked so happy. So content. He held himself like a man who was totally fulfilled. The huge belly and body seemed to suit Theo very well, Rachel thought.

“Come, come, let's eat! Theo’s been so nervous he hardly ate any lunch, so I know he must be starving!” Charlotte laughed.

“Char, come on, I’m sure they didn't need to know that…” Theo replied, his cheeks turning red.

Rachel smiled wide, glancing at Lee, who had a pleased smile of her own, and took her to the dinner table.

***

Rachel slowly followed as Lee let out a happy moan walking to their car, hand in hand.

“Told you the food would be good,” she grinned, glancing at Rachel.

Rachel’s expression was pensive, which was clear Lee noticed when Rachel felt her hand get squeezed. They stopped and Rachel looked up at Lee.

“Everything okay?” Lee asked quietly, sidling up to Rachel and tucking some blonde hair behind her ear.

“I can't believe…I let my parents keep me from seeing him for so long.” Rachel didn't feel sad–just a bit of regret for a slightly different life that may have happened in some other universe.

Lee let out an affirmative hum. “Come on, tell me about it in the car on the way home.”

Rachel nodded, giving Lee’s hand a squeeze. She got settled in the car, with Lee at the driver's seat and she let out a long sigh as the lights began passing them in colorful blurs.

Years and years of missed emotions and feelings welled up in Rachel and she began to cry.

“Lee, he was so happy…he’s been happy.”

Lee simply nodded and gave Rachel a glance.

“And yeah, he's way bigger than he was when I last saw him, but he’s so happy…why didn't I try harder to see him?” Rachel started to blubber, messily wiping tears from her face with her sleeves.

Lee glanced at Rachel again, letting out a sigh. “Rachel…you know none of that matters now, right?”

Rachel was quiet, save for her sniffling.

“...Yeah. I know,” she finally conceded.

“You’ve got his number, and he invited us over again next weekend, so you have nothing but time to reconnect with him.” Lee reached a hand over to Rachel’s thigh and gave it squeeze. Rachel smiled at the warmth of her girlfriend’s hand and placed hers on top of it.

“Plus, his wife was so cute, huh?” Lee added with a goofy grin, swiftly poking a hole in Rachel’s tension. She laughed in response, shaking her head. “They make a cute couple.”

“Very cute. And a great cook…no wonder Theo got so big, I’d have given in too.”

“Oho,” Lee said in the teasing tone Rachel was very familiar with now, “you saying that my cooking isn’t that good?”

“Yes. Your cooking is average,” Rachel teased back. “But so is mine.”

Lee hummed back in an unusual way, making Rachel curious.

“What?” Rachel asked, looking fully at Lee now.

Lee simply gave a faux-oblivious shrug and a knowing glance back at her.

“What?” Rachel pressed again, now fully aware that Lee seemed to know something she didn’t.

“You didn’t notice because you spent most of your time talking to Theo–which is totally good and normal and great–but you didn’t really see the way she would hold onto him.” Lee chuckled. “I think your brother’s weight is a little more on purpose than you might believe.”

Rachel scrunched her eyebrows together. “What the heck are you even talking about, she’s just madly in love with my brother, that’s all.”

Lee shrugged a shoulder, smiling back at the road.

“Just a thought I had.”

Rachel playfully huffed at Lee, leaning back in her seat and looking out the window again. But now she couldn’t deny the idea was peeling at something in her mind.

She remembered Theo going to the gym often–usually to be away from their parents–and he was usually pretty conscious about not overeating to avoid the ire of their judging parents. Granted, no matter what Theo did, Mom and Dad always had something to belittle him over. And the last conversation he had with Mom…

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the memory.

She was 16 years old. He had actually shown up at the house, not looking too different from what she remembered–not that she got a very good look at him before he left for the last time. Mom made her stay inside, but she managed to get a peek at him through the window.

Lots of unkind words from Mom. Lots of insults at him and at who Rachel now realized must have been Charlotte. Dad didn’t even get home before Theo left…which was probably for the best.

Then, years later, Rachel remembered letting slip that she was dating Lee. She got into her own screaming match with Mom. Plenty of unkind words for Rachel, just like she had for Theo. Shortly after that, Rachel moved in with her and ignored the angry attempts at her Mom trying to get her to come back.

And then, amazingly enough, she found out that Lee’s apartment was close to her long-lost brother.

And now here they were, after a year of building courage.

She thought about the way he held himself. The way he warned her about his weight. The way the couch cushions had a very Theo-shaped crater in them. The extra-wide doorways, the sturdy furniture, the incredible amount of food he ate–Charlotte had even refilled his plate several times and fed him a few bites of food herself.

Rachel quietly cursed, making Lee glance at her and laugh.

“I hate when you’re right,” Rachel explained with a playful pout. “You get so smug.”

“Ha, you can kinda see it now too, right?”

Rachel went silent, trying to process the idea that Theo had gotten so large on purpose. Was it rebellion? A kink? Some combination of reasons?

She still believed he wore his enormous weight well, but now she began to realize that he had probably been wearing it for a while now. And he had at the very least, made peace with it.

She sighed, suddenly not wanting to speculate any further than that tonight.

“Hey, I…I wasn’t trying to sully the image of your brother or anything,” Lee said apologetically. “I honestly thought it was pretty cute that he’d be into something like that with his wife. I like a big brother-in-law better than a skinny one, anyway.”

She looked at Lee, who now had a rather severe expression on her face, which didn’t quite match the last thing she had said.

“No, you didn’t, don’t worry,” Rachel sighed again. She went silent again, hoping to let Lee sit in the presence of her own big mouth for a moment. Lee squirmed a little in her seat, pitifully glancing at Rachel.

Rachel had a small, devious grin. “You think it's pretty cute though, huh? Him getting fat for his wife?”

This made Lee blush and glance nervously between Rachel and the road for a while.

Rachel let out a loud, chirpy laugh in response–pleased at Lee’s squirming. This made Lee relax again and she looked gratefully at Rachel.

“Guess I should have told you I was a big weirdo sooner then.”

Rachel chuckled, shaking her head. The darkening blush on her girlfriend's face was not lost on her, however. A new, tiny, devious thought whispered something to her that made her ears burn.

“Would you still like me if I was big like that?” She asked as nonchalantly as possible.

Lee was quiet for a moment before she responded with a raspy laugh that gave Rachel goosebumps. “No question to it. More of you? More for me to love.”

“So you're also into big…well, fat people?” Rachel mused.

“Doll, I go wherever my heart takes me…which, right now? Happens to be totally in your hands.” Lee’s response was surprisingly more poignant and tender than Rachel expected. Butterflies began fluttering in her stomach.

They fell into a warm, content silence, the radio playing softly.

Rachel started humming along absently to whatever song was playing, now letting her mind wander to just how soft her brother was when she hugged him.

[happilyfeatherafter]

Happilyfeatherafter’s ficrec Fridays

Good friday y'all. Welcome back to a new fortnight of fics that I’ve read and loved recently. I took my first holiday of the year and IMMEDIATELY caught a cold that knocked me out for the week but at least it meant I got reading done. Save me, destiel, save me.

If you want to find more you can see my previous rec lists here!

29 March 2024

virga(e) by @shineforthee (art by @neversleepuntilfive) has gone straight to the top of the favourite fics ever pile, oh my god you guys, please read it immediately and admire the art that inspired it as part of @deancasreversebang. This fic is a thing of beauty from start to finish. In one version of the story of Dean and Cas, we find Castiel perpetually waiting in the desert, when a 26 year old Dean stumbles upon him drawn to the location mid-hunt. They must learn to trust each other, to figure out what's causing the push and pull that bonds them. The poetry of this fic, run through with this yearning devastating emotion on their journey together, coupled with the incredibly evocatively descriptions and research into the setting, come together to make the most gorgeous picture, the desert a place that seems desolate but is teeming with life. Much like the slowburn romance that flourishes between them. It also links back to post-canon in a way that is seeded so carefully and cleverly, and made my heart explode. It's funny, romantic, devastating, emotional, moving....I can't do justice to this fic with such a short snapshot, please read it for yourselves and come yell at me about it. It's so beautiful. shineforthee also has a great 9x06 fanfic gap one shot and an ongoing wip now too and I can't wait to read that! (Somehow need any more convincing? Check out @bloodydeanwinchester's Virga(e) liveblog).

It's all very complex by artichokeflower okay that was all very serious, so let's turn to a short and sweet smut fic that had me giggling gleefully throughout. 'After walking in on Dean's private time, Cas decides to do a little research and experimentation of his own and gets magically trapped in a book about sexual fantasies. And if that means Dean has to go in after him, well what are buddies for, right?' The thing that is just GOLDEN about this fic aside from the hot smut is the dry sense of humour, borderline French Mistake parody level porn and dialogue between Dean and especially Cas which just gets them so well...the cowboy scenes in particular. Glorious: “I’m sorry, Dean. That’s the end of the erotic violence. Are you hurt?” “Is there going to be any sex in your sexy fantasies?” Dean wheezed. “Not that the whole shoot out wasn’t fun. I just wasn’t expecting as much plot is all.” He coughed. That had probably sounded too eager.

Just Being and Just Having by Englandwouldfall I have recced before but is now complete!! This the post-canon fic series delves so incredibly beautifully into Dean and Cas’ history of miscommunication and gives them the chance to truly talk things out, finding themselves falling more deeply in love as they do so and understand their own mistakes but also what makes them work so well together when they’re no longer under Chuck’s thumb. Each chapter feels like therapy and a brain and heart massage! It sticks the landing so well and I just love these boys so much.

Something Happening Somewhen by allthismusic (@folkbloodbaths, art by @eggchef) aaaahhh time travel young Dean brought to the future to meet older Dean and Cas fic trope my beloved. A @deancaspinefest fic, Allthismusic is a fan of the trope too and this fic is a gorgeous tribute to it and the fics that came before. Cas saves 24yo Dean from an accident and brings him to the future when he witnesses what his life will be. Will Cas have to remove his memories to stop a paradox? Sweet and heartfelt, a joy to read.

Books, Pies, and Roommates by @seidenapfel (art by @kitshay) is a @deancaspinefest two-person love hexagon, with some excellently farcical misdirection. Cas moves in to the spare room of Dean's house, but he doesn't meet him, he meets Sam, as Dean is busy working. Cas is professor but helps his cousin out as a barista and his favourite customer is Deano. Dean's intrigued by the barista but he's not his online penpal and best friend Angel. Lines blur, connections are made, and hearts are gonna get broken...or are they?

Tag list under the cut, let me know if you'd like to be added! Please reblog <3

@dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you

[galacticseonghwa]

Nothing Matters in Paris - Liu Yang Yang (chapter one)

INCLUDES: fem!reader x "teacher"!yang yang, swearing, age gap, yang yang is like 10 years older than he actually is, fluff, smut, angst(?), somnophilia, fingering, katoptronophilia, degrading, name-calling, cockwarming, idk if i go everything so just lmk what i've forgotten. wc: 2k a/n: please DNI if you're not comfortable with the "teacher" x student dynamic, the dynamic was explained better in the profiles post. however, as the story goes on you will understand how and why yang yang is classified as a teacher. ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF TWENTY-ONE!

“good morning class, this will be my last class teaching you for the year.” our music teacher says, a smile on her face. a loud chorus of shock erupted in the class at the news.

“ten dollars she says she’s pregnant” shotaro whispers from the right of me. i nod my head agreeing. “she’s started glowing recently, i wouldn't be surprised if she is.” i say.

“i’m going to be on maternal leave from tomorrow until a few months after my little one is born,” the teacher pauses with a smile. “i have mr. qian coming in to teach you all until the stand-in teacher comes in next week.” just as she finishes her sentence mr. qian walks into the classroom.

“hi guys.” he says happily, his black hair slicked back in his usual fashion while wearing what looks like bike gear. as if he could sense my gaze, mr. qian turns his head towards me while taking off his motorbike jacket, a smile placed on his face as he reveals the tight black shirt he was wearing.

“i’m just here to sit in and see where you guys are up to.” mr. qian turns away from me as he speaks to the class. “also i would prefer if you guys called me kun. mr. qian is my father.” kun’s smile doesn’t leave his face.

before long, mrs. rivas starts the class. “we’ll be doing our group projects now, just so kun has a fair idea of what our class is about.” mrs. rivas looks through the paper on her desk quickly. “shotaro and y/n you two are up first.” her voice is soft as she looks at shotaro and i with a smile on her face.

taro and i make our way up to the front of the class and look at each other, anxiety in both of our eyes. “uh, hello.” shotaro begins awkwardly earning giggles from a few of the girls in the class. i look at taro and nod my head in reassurance. “we got this.” i whisper to him, he nods his head and takes a deep breath.

“y/n and i will be performing our favourite song, Love Wins All by IU. we hope you like it” shotaro steps back and clicks play on the backing track we had both spent time on making together. taro starts off the song, turning to me as he starts singing. i nod with a smile and give him a thumbs up.

as the pre-chorus starts coming up, i start hearing the loud beating of my heart in my ears. i’m sure shotaro senses my fear as he steps closer towards me and grips my hand in his. “you’ve got this.” taro whispers into my ear.

the next moment i open my eyes, everyone is smiling and clapping. taro throws his arm over my shoulders as he smiles widely down at me. “you did it! i’m proud of you!” he says and brings me in for a hug.

i pull away from shotaro with a shy smile and bow. “thank you.” i squeak. mrs. rivas stands up and claps with a wide smile. “you two did amazing. what are your thoughts mr. qian?” her voice is quiet as she watches kun cross his arms over his chest, a frown on his face as he studies shotaro and i.

“you two have a real talent,” he pauses as he nods. “although it would be nice to see you more confident in yourself y/n, you have the talent a lot of people would die for.” kun uncrosses his arms and claps. “good job, truly.” he smiles softly.

shotaro and i look at each other baffled. kun was never one to give out praises to students unless they were truly talented, he had a knick for picking out the next big name. shotaro bows instantaneously as we begin walking towards our seats.

kun was quick to wave us off with a smile and a small shake of his head. “did kun just complement us, specifically you though?” shotaro stares at me wide-eyed, the laugh that escaped my lips was quiet as i coo and squish his cheeks.

“you’re so cute, i just want to eat you.” i giggle, shotaro frown with a scoff and swats my hands away from his face.

“i’m anything but cute!” he defends himself. i nod tauntingly and watch as shotaro scoffs again and sits back in his chair while crossing his arms across his chest. “i’m not talking to you for the rest of the day.” shotaro states and turns his back towards me.

i laugh wholeheartedly at his outburst and poke his side, he jolts and almost falls off his chair. “don’t do that, i’m mad at you” he whispers harshly. “uh-huh.” i drawl out and watch as he side eyes me before turning back around in his chair.

“how old are you again, taro?”

shotaro says nothing but gives me his middle finger. “you know damn well, we’re the oldest people in this class other than the teachers.” shotaro says.

“it’s not our fault our gap year turned into a four-year-long gap year.” i shrug with a laugh. shotaro and i vowed to have a gap year after graduating high school and then going straight to uni, but then somehow one year turned into four before we decided to put our plan into effect.

feeling a very demanding gaze on me, i look towards the front and see kun staring at me. kun does nothing but raise his eyebrows as i look at him, there was something in his gaze that made me believe he knew something that i didn’t.

“why’s he staring at you like that?” shotaro whispers to me as he brings his chair as close to me as he can. seeing this, kun coughs awkwardly and looks away from me. i turn to shotaro and frown at him. “i don’t know, but it looks like he knows something i don’t” i mumble.

“well no shit, he’s a teacher. he’s bound to know something you don’t.” shotaro rolls his eyes dramatically. i smack his arm, earning an ‘ow’ mumbled from him. “you know that’s not what i meant.” 

“i mean, he knows something about me or something that’s about to happen to me that i don’t” shotaro looks at me, i can see the gears turn in his head while he tries to think of something. “i could be wrong but maybe you’ve caught the eye of a friend of his.” he shrugs, my mouth hangs open before the loudest laugh escapes my mouth.

“want to share with the class what you find so funny, y/n?” kun asks, a frown on his face as he steps behind the teacher's desk and leans forward to place both his hands on the edge closest to him.

i try my hardest to stifle my laugh, but fail miserably as i look at kun. “no, i’m sorry.” i cough to stop myself from laughing anymore. kun raises his eyebrows and clears his throat. “very well then, pay attention.” he points towards mrs. rivas.

the rest of the class drones on as group after group performs their projects for mrs. rivas and kun. the bell for lunch finally rings, shotaro and i look at each other and nod. shotaro bolts out of his chair and all but sprints out of the classroom.

i giggle to myself as i watch. taking my time collecting my own and shotaro’s stuff, i notice i was one of the last students to exit the classroom. “y/n” kun calls for me as i pick up shotaro’s laptop and place it into my arms.

i turn to kun and wait for him as he walks up the class steps towards me. “yes?” 

kun stops in front of me and looks me over with something hidden behind his eyes. “have you ever thought about getting a vocal coach?” his voice was low as he crossed his arms and leans his hip onto the desk next to us.

my mouth drops open before his eyes widen. “wait i didn’t mean it like that!” he raises his hands in defence. “i meant it as in for your performance anxiety, you seem to really struggle with it.” he says quietly.

“oh, uh. i’ve thought about it before, but never thought it would be a good idea.” my face turns hot as i turn away from kun’s intense gaze.

“why do you think it wouldn’t be a good idea?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious. “i don’t know, i guess the shame i’d feel explaining to someone that i struggle to sing in front of people who isn’t shotaro.” i say with a shrug.

kun nods, a hum leaves his throat. “well i happen to know someone who could help you if you would like that is,” he pauses and uncrosses his arms. “just let me know by the end of class on friday, then i can give you his details.” kun finishes.

“thank you kun, i’ll let you know.” i smile, kun nods with a soft smile as i walk away to go find shotaro. 

i find shotaro sitting at our usual spot in the library, typing away on his phone angrily. “why’re you grumpy?” i ask and sit down next to him. shotaro lifts his head with a deep frown before it disappears when he sees me.

shotaro quickly pulls his bag from my hands and opens it to throw out all sorts of snacks, including sandwiches. “some loser is trying to doxx me on discord.” he says with a roll of his eyes.

shotaro places chocolate milk in front of me as well as one of those cream and strawberry sandwiches that his mum makes and that i am in love with. “i could kiss you on the lips right now.” i say and dig straight into the sandwich in front of me.

“do it then, you’re all bark no bite.” shotaro rolls his eyes comically and shakes his head. i squint my eyes at him as i contemplate on whether i should or not.

deciding there’s nothing to lose, i grip shotaro’s face in my hands and place a soft kiss on his lips. when i pull away, shotaro’s staring at me with the widest eyes i have ever seen on anyone. his eyes narrow before he slides his own cream and strawberry sandwich towards me.

i laugh at this and watch as shotaro puckers his lips and moves towards me. i push his face away from me and giggle as he huffs dramatically. “fine” he says and pouts at me. 

“kun asked me if i wanted a vocal coach.” i say to shotaro as i take a bite of the cream and strawberry sandwich. shotaro stops mid-bite then his eyes dart towards me. “he said it could help me with my performance anxiety. i’m thinking of saying yes.”

“well if it could benefit you, i don’t see why you don’t say yes.” he nods at me.

“that’s what i’ve been thinking, he says it’ll be someone he knows.” shotaro chokes on his drink, he laughs wildly at this.

“i told you! i bet you that the friend he’s referring to is the one you caught the eye of!” shotaro laughs harder. i roll my eyes. “him and his friends would all be out of my age range.” it was shotaro’s turn to roll his eyes.

“it’s probably a younger friend, and that age range of yours doesn't stop you from drooling over hyde, which need i remind you is my uncle.” shotaro points a finger at me.

“okay but that’s different!” i say defensively. “he’s a celebrity!”.

shotaro looks at me knowingly. “you saw him on the weekend when you came to my family’s countryside house, he’s just about as normal as you and i” shotaro states matter of factly. “yeah, well-” shotaro cuts me off by shoving a strawberry into my mouth.

“it’s not different, you two know each other personally.” he shakes his head with a laugh. “anyway, i think you should say yes to kun. it’ll be good for you.” i nod as i think about it, having a vocal coach to help me overcome my performance anxiety would be really good.

profiles | previous | next | masterlist

this chapter was VERY rushed so 90% of it won't really make sense, as the series goes on the chapters will get better i promise.

TAGLIST: @yourbeomiebear

request to be in my taglist here

[joelalorian]

Tides of Desire - Chapter Seven: From Stem to Stern

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, alcohol, fluff, angst, smut (eventual), unprotected p in v (though Joel had the best of intentions), little bit of fingering and oral (f receiving). Reader is a badass. Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). No use of y/n, though reader is of British descent and has the nickname Brit (occasionally used).

AN: New mood board courtesy of the wonderful @janaispunk! Thank you so much, love!

The fun nakey times are finally here! Took them long enough, but Joel finally got his head out of his ass. Hope you enjoy!

Series masterlist

Chapter Seven: From Stem to Stern

A subtle ding sounded as the elevator reached Joel’s floor, jolting the two of you to awareness of your surroundings before the doors opened. The tingle from the merest brushing of Joel’s lips against yours had you floating on air as you followed him to his room, your mind a flurry of wonder. If that simple act was so damn good, what would if feel like to really kiss him, to run your fingers through his hair, to brush your hand over his hardening cock, to slip each other’s clothes off and climb into bed, to feel your bodies come together…

Jesus Christ, you were already hot and bothered as Joel swept you up toward another crest on the roller coaster you were on.

Once inside the room, you froze, wide eyes sweeping over the open concept, oversized room with a king size bed, a chaise lounge, glass exposing the large shower and garden tub to the rest of the room. It was a room for lovers, where nothing was hidden but the toilet. Joel booked this room with specific intent, or at least hope, that much was clear. He said you didn’t have to do anything, but clearly, this room was made for exactly what you wanted to do. The butterflies fluttering in your stomach became a flurry of activity equivalent to CAT 3 hurricane-force winds.

Holy shit.

Soft, cautious puppy eyes met yours, a hint of worry visible behind his glasses at your reaction to all this. A lock of dark curls had fallen over Joel’s forehead, giving him a youthful look. Your heart clenched. You wanted this. You wanted it so bad. Had he finally given in?

Your thoughts scanned through recent interactions, recalling Frank’s cryptic chat with you and the insight from Donna before her charter departed. Did they all know something you didn’t? See something you couldn’t?

Joel’s hand started to twitch waiting for your response to his silent question. Smiling brightly, you reached for him with urgency. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck. “It will shatter me if you change your mind halfway through or regret this, us, tomorrow.”

Those dark chocolate eyes seared into yours, etching his words into your soul as he spoke. “I want this. I want you. I’m tired of sacrificing the things I want because I’m afraid of history repeating itself. Everyone has told me I deserve to be happy, it’s about time I believe it myself. And you… you make me happy.”

He kissed you then, hard, tongue running along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Your tongues tangled in a mix between gentle exploration and heated passion. It was the kiss of someone starved of intimacy, seeking to feel, to consume, yet not quite devour., not yet. That would come later, you hoped.

Face cradled in the palms of his hands; Joel caressed your cheekbones with his thumbs as the kiss continued. Your senses were consumed with him – his scent, taste, touch, the sounds of his subtle groans and whines at the feel, taste of you in return. It was all encompassing and you wondered how you survived those five weeks being close to him without doing this…

Wait, had it only been five weeks? That seemed so short in the grand span of things, but everything about yacht life was exaggerated, more intense. Time stretched differently when you lived and worked in a confined space with the same people. Feelings developed faster, more deeply during ‘boatmances’. And they burned out quicker, too, if you weren’t careful. Almost everyone who worked on a yacht learned that one the hard way.

Still, the five weeks of dancing around each other, your feelings, only made you realize how much you wanted this, wanted him. It wasn’t just a fling. It could, would be so much more than a boatmance. You had been willing to wait the entirety of the season to be with him. That was evident of something real, something sustainable, something that could so easily become… love.

Part of you wondered what really happened to change Joel’s mind. He had been so adamant about not pursuing something on the yacht and now here you were, wrapped up in his arms, in the hottest kiss you ever experienced – granted you were in a hotel room and not aboard the yacht, but still, it was still season. What changed his mind, exactly?

Equally, another part of you wondered what happened in his past to make Joel so rigid and sacrificial about the rules to begin with.

The moment one of Joel’s hands slipped down from your face to skillfully paw at your breast, all thought left your head. The moan that emanated from the depths of your belly was sinful and you could feel Joel’s lips twitch toward a smirk against your own.

Minutes – hours? – later, Joel forced himself back with a deep-seated sigh. “We need to go, or we’ll miss dinner.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” you asked, raking in the sight of him looking so thoroughly snogged. You were not ready to let him go yet.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest as he speared his fingers through his hair, attempting to collect himself. “No, not as such. But I know we’ll need the energy later, sweetheart, so we better get to dinner.”

Now that you’d kissed, Joel calling you sweetheart hit a bit different, leaving you weak in the knees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lanterns filled with fairy lights were placed along the middle of the dark wooden table, elegant place settings in front of each seat. By the time Joel and you arrived, there were only two seats left, one across the table from the other. You slipped into the seat between Tess and Sarah when they waved you over and Joel sat next to his brother and Jake. Your eyes met across the table before Joel dipped his head toward his brother, a hushed conversation taking place. Tommy’s gaze shot to you with a leering grin before he turned back to nod at Joel, the movement of their arms indicating something was being passed between them beneath the table. You searched Joel’s face for a clue by he gave nothing away, simply taking a sip from the glass of ice water and continuing to talk to his brother.

“Soooo…” Tess drew your attention, “Where’s your room? Sarah and I are on the third floor.”

Willing the heat rushing your cheeks away, you forced yourself not to glance in Joel’s direction. “I’m on the sixth floor.”

“Ohhh reeealllyy?” Sarah chimed in, drawing out the words. “My dad is on the sixth floor, too. Quite the coincidence, don’t you think, Tess?”

The pair of them leaned across you, broad grins on their pretty faces as they teased you. “Definitely a coincidence. I heard the sixth floor only has a few, larger rooms… special ones. You know the kind, right, Sarah?”

You expected this ridiculousness from someone Sarah’s age, but Tess was almost worst in how much enjoyment she was finding in it. “Will you two quit it,” you hissed, though the inability to stop smiling lessened the effect.

“I’m just glad he’s manning up, honestly,” Sarah admitted once the laughter settled. “I know it’s probably weird to be concerned about my dad’s, you know, sex life, but I’m just really happy he’s loosening up.” After a beat, she added, “But I DO NOT want any details. None. Ever. Got it?”

Nearly choking on a sip of water, you nodded emphatically. “I have no interest in sharing any. Ever. Promise.” You hesitated a moment, graciously offering Tess a chance to add her two pence, but she only winked in return, broad grin gracing her face. “Can we, please, change the fucking subject now?”

As drink and dinner orders were placed, you glanced across the table to see that Joel hadn’t fared much better than you, his attention torn between his brother’s teasing and relentless questions from Jake. Your gazes met briefly, taking a moment to acknowledge each other, the hint of what was to come after dinner sparkling behind both your eyes.

Dinner could not be over soon enough. It was torture sitting across from Joel, sharing glances yet not really speaking, while also dodging Jake’s flirtatious attempts at conversation. You wanted so badly to temper your nerves with alcohol but didn’t want to risk drinking too much. Nothing could get in the way of a whole night alone with Joel. Instead, you sipped at a glass of cabernet and focused on chatting with Sarah and Tess.

Mid-way through dinner, a commotion sounded at the far end of the table, and you looked up to see Connor walking toward the group, one arm in a cast held tight to his torso with a sling. He looked a little worse for wear, but his young face was lit up with happiness at seeing everyone again. Emmy was nearly in tears as she jumped out of her seat to rush toward him, only calming when she glanced at his arm and pulled him into a tight side hug.

The rest of the evening past more quickly as everyone caught up with Connor. He was heading home the following morning and happily accepted Joel’s offer to join them for one last dinner.

When dessert was served, you excused yourself from the table with the excuse of wanting to relax in a bubble bath rather than hit the outdoor bar with the group. You accepted a fair amount of ribbing from the group for being an old lady, though two of the Millers and Tess teased you with knowing looks. The third Miller tilted his lips into a half smile, longing in his chocolate puppy eyes.

“Good night, mates!” you called over your shoulder, slipping through the tables to the lobby where you waited for the next elevator.

The resort was busy, it was near peak tourist season in the tropics with plenty of northerners seeking respite from the cold, and the elevator was packed. You squeezed between bodies and rolling luggage to reach the back corner of the elevator, knowing you were in for a few stops before you reached the top floor. The elevator slowly emptied floor-by-floor until you were the only one left going to the sixth floor.

Entering the extravagant room and kicking your strappy sandals off with a sigh of relief, you let the sundress you wore slip to the floor not far from the door. Dark blue lace panties and a matching bra were next to fall from your body, creating a trail leading to the tub. The thought of Joel spotting it all as soon as he walked through the door thrilled you as the large garden tub was filling with steaming water and the scented bubble bath provided by the resort.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joel tried to escape as promptly as he could, the thought of you waiting – hopefully naked – in his room calling to him like a siren, but Tommy insisted that he join them for at least one shot at the pool bar before calling it a night.

“Big night, huh, brother?” Tommy teased, gulping heavily from the beer in his hand. Swiping the back of his free hand across his mouth, he grinned madly at Joel. “Ya sure ya remember how everything works? What parts go where and what not?”

“Asshole,” Joel grumbled, pink tinging his tanned face. “Let’s just do this shot already. I have somewhere much better to be.”

“Alright, alright. Here,” Tommy handed him the small glass full of amber liquid. “Cheers to your dick seeing some action finally.”

“Jesus Christ.” Joel rolled his eyes, tossing back the shot to let the liquid burn down his throat. “Behave tonight. Stay away from the married ladies. I’ll be too busy to bail your ass out of anything.” Clasping his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, Joel nodded to himself before turning to walk away.

“Enjoy yourself and make sure she comes first!” Tommy called after him much to Joel’s chagrin, the nervous captain glancing around to make sure none of the other crew heard. He didn’t necessarily want to advertise that he was about to sleep with a member of his crew.

His brother was such a little shit, but Joel was grateful that Tommy always had an extra condom on him. It had been so long, Joel forgot all about the importance of protection and asked his brother for one at dinner in a panic. Having come prepared for his own night of potential fun, Tommy had extras and passed Joel two beneath the table. It occurred to him now that he probably could have tracked some down for purchase in this huge resort, but whatever.

A man on a mission, Joel stalked through the lobby to the elevators, not so patiently waiting for the next available one to take him up to the sixth floor. He wondered what you were doing, his mind swirling with possible images – you draped across the oversized bed, naked and waiting for him, or neck deep in the garden tub, equally naked with bubbles hiding all your delectable bits from his view as you waited for him to join you.

God dammit, his pants were already becoming uncomfortable, his cock swelling at his thoughts alone. He would be fit to burst when he finally set eyes on you.

A nervous tick settled into his hands, thick fingers flexing as the elevator ascended. Part of him could not believe he was doing this – what the fuck was he thinking?! But another part of him overflowed with virility, eager to prove to himself that he was ready and able to feel something again.

Right then and there, in that boxy elevator surrounded by Muzak, Joel made a promise to himself to allow happiness and love back into his life without regard to past hurts or failures.

Small beads of sweat gathered beneath his glasses when he stepped into the hallway of his floor. Removing the frames, Joel wiped his face and shook the nerves out of his shoulders. It was go time!

Heart beating heavily in his chest, cock still half hard, he entered the room, the trail of your clothes visible in the dim lighting. He followed them like a homing beacon to find you in the large tub, instrumental music playing softly from your phone as you relaxed, immersed in fragrant bubbles. The sight stole the breath from his lungs, glasses fogging up from the heat emanating from his body and the humidity of the bath. He tore them from his face, tossing them toward the vanity with a careless flick of his hand.

Neither of you uttered a word, gazes clashing as you stared at each other in a haze of need and want. He was already stripping out of his clothes before words finally fell from his lips. “Mind if I join you?”

You stared back at him, flawless skin dewy from the water and eyes wide, the curve of an inviting smile upon your lips as you took in every inch of his broad form as it was bared before you. “I’ve been waiting,” you murmured, sliding forward to allow him to slip into the tub behind you.

Joel’s confidence soared as your gaze roved over his now bare body, lingering for long moments on his cock, now fully hard and glistening with pre-come. He felt like a man reborn, giving into something he wanted, needed for the first time in far too long. “See something you like, sweetheart?”

The tops of your breasts peeked above the suds as you sat up in the water, eyes alight with playfulness. “Mmhmm, I like everything I’m seeing. Get in here, please.”

He followed your order at once, slipping into the tub with careful movements, and pulled you back against his chest once settled, the hard press of him against your lower back. Momentarily disappointed that he hadn’t gotten the chance to see all of you yet, Joel wrapped his arms around you, eager hands already roaming your skin beneath the water, which was dangerously high with the addition of his broad frame.

 “You feel amazing in my arms.” Joel’s voice rumbled from his chest, and he could feel the gooseflesh spread across your skin as his breath washed over you. “I could so easily fall for you, ya know?” He felt you nod against him.

“Me, too, Joel” you breathed. Your hands wandered over every bit of him you could reach, both of you explored each other until the desire for more became too much and the water began to cool. “Take me to bed, Joel.”

He could refuse you nothing. Helping you from the tub, Joel gently wrapped you up in a bath sheet before drying himself off. When you dropped the towel to the floor, Joel pounced, sealing his lips to yours in an intimate kiss, a mere precursor to what more was to come as his own towel fell to the floor.

Stepping back, Joel bent down and fished around in the pocket of his pants for the condoms. A wave of lightheadedness washed over him as he stood up again, the sight of you naked and waiting for him too much for his senses. He grasped your hand, quickly bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss on your knuckles before leading you to the bed.

He you laid down on the bed, skin chilled from the air conditioning and Joel peppered your body with soft, wet kisses as his worked his way up to meet your lips. The kiss started as a gentle press of your mouths but quickly turned into a passionate tangling of your tongues and shared breaths. Joel could not keep his hands still, callused fingers caressing from the soft nook of your neck to the swell of your ass and everywhere in between. He could not get enough of you.

Your fingers tangled in his thick curls, tugging experimentally until he groaned with a deep rumble. One hand continued working through his hair as the other roamed, short nails scraping over his broad shoulders and back, along the softness of his belly and love handles, grabbing a handful of the ass you had spent many a moment admiring in his uniform pants. Finally, your hand moved between you to feel the heft of his cock in your grip, and watched Joel’s eyes roll back.

Loving the feel of your hands on him, Joel rolled until he was hovering over you, cock pressed against your lower belly. “Hi,” he whispered with a boyish grin, his left hand wandering down between your thighs, fingertips exploring your folds.

“Hi,” you giggled in return, squirming slightly at the intimate touch.

“You are mesmerizing, did you know that? I am completely under your spell, and I can’t fight it anymore. I don’t want to fight it anymore.” Settling more of his weight down on you, pressing his hardened cock further against you, Joel added, “Do you feel what you do to me, sweetheart?”

He watched your eyelids flutter shut as you nodded, his finger slipping inside you with a sigh. You were soaked and he murmured as much in your ear, adding a second thick finger, hitting depths he knew you couldn’t reach on your own. Joel used his thumb to pluck at your clit until you were a writhing mess beneath him.

“You gonna come for me, gorgeous? Lemme hear those delightful sounds, yeah?” He worked you faster, harder, watching as your eyes rolled back with pleasure. “That’s it, sweetheart. Show me how fucking good it feels.” His cock swelled impossibly harder at your moans as you tipped headlong over the edge into an abyss of pleasure. “You are fucking beautiful.”

Still high on your orgasm, you clawed at him, pulling him closer until his full body weight was on you, mouths meeting with sloppy kisses. A quick reach down and he was notched at your entrance, pushing into you with precision.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, the breath swept from your lungs as you were filled to the brim with the enormity of Joel fucking Miller. Your arms clutched him, left hand coming up to tangle your fingers into the thick hair on the back of his head, and your legs wrapped around his hips.

Whispering your name like a prayer against your skin as he pressed open mouth kisses down your neck, Joel moved his hips in a steady rhythm, increasing the intensity as the tension in your bellies built and built.

“You feel so fucking good. Your pretty pussy is like heaven, I never want to leave. It’s so tight, gripping me like a fucking vice.” Words of appreciation and praise tumbled from Joel’s lips as he surrounded you, working you both toward that beautiful peak.

His thrusts lost their rhythm as you came, your walls squeezing him until he exploded, emptying himself inside you, moans and sighs echoing off the walls of the oversized room. You remained tangled together, chests heaving and sweaty, until Joel’s weight became too much. His softening cock slipped out of you as he rolled to the side, eyes catching the unopened condoms packets on the nightstand once he was on his back.

“Oh fuck!”

The sudden exclamation in the quiet room startled you and you sat up. “What? What’s wrong?”

Eyes squeezed closed, Joel’s hand curled into a fist, bumping against his forehead in frustration. “I forgot to put on a fucking condom. I’m so sorry.” Figured, the first intimate moment he had in a long while and he forgot protection.

Your small hand ran over his belly, curling yourself into his side, chin resting on his chest. “Joel, it’s ok, I promise. I’m on birth control and clean. I always stay on it, regulates the monthlies, yeah? Besides, it’s been a bit since I was with anyone.”

Arm falling to his side, Joel’s head raised to meet your eyes, relief flooding his veins. “You sure? I mean, I’m clean, too, and it’s been… a long while since I was with someone.”

“It’s settled then. We’re clean and protected against pregnancy. When can we go for round two?” You burst into laughter at the expression on his face.

“Sweetheart, I’m forty. Gimme a bit of recovery time. I can go all night with a little recovery,” Joel promised, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, then your forehead, before pulling you up for a soft kiss on the mouth.

Cuddled together, you filled the time talking, and you finally got some context on why he refused you initially. There was history with Sarah’s mom, whom he met on a yacht in the early stages of his career, and it was a disaster, nearly sidelining his captaincy. He didn’t share the gritty details, not yet at least, but it burned him, badly, and left him avoiding intimacy on or off the boat for a long time. He focused, instead, on Sarah and his career, having a few dalliances and short-term relationships over the years, but nothing he ever committed himself to. Until you. He could see himself in a life with you.

“You make me happy,” Joel said, kissing his way down your body.

“You make me happy, too, Joel Miller,” you squeaked as his tongue delved between your folds, licking upwards to tease that little bundle of nerves.

Round two, three, and four carried well into the early morning hours, leaving you both satiated and exhausted. You slept in, missing the crew breakfast and half the day at the beach club, though neither of you cared. You knew Sarah, Tess, and Tommy would make excuses for you if anyone noticed.

The thought of going back to the yacht, where you’d have to resume your professional relationship again – at least in front of the crew and guests – left you both feeling empty and sad, but you agreed to enjoy every single moment you had left together at the resort. Everything else could be figured out as the season winded down.

TBC

[agentstarkid]

FOREVER IS THE SWEETEST CON ✦ DR3

✦ DEBRIEF: While isolating in a hotel room, some things can't be ignored any more and, as stars fade in the dawn's light, some bonds were meant to be broken, like whispers carried away by the desert wind.

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 4.3K words

✦ TRACK LIMITS: female!reader, latina!reader, established relationship, lots of angst, covid-19 & quarantine mentions, there's a nine-year age gap, forced proximity (if you squint), language.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: holis babes! before you all come for me with your pitchforks, I'd like to remind you that english is not my first language so I wanna give a big biiig thank you to Tally (@onceuponaoneshotfanfic) for englishing this baby and for encouraging me to write it when I told her I was thinking about it ❤️ I actually wrote this back in october and I can finally post it!! It is tied to Saudade, if you want more context to their story. This is not the end, okay?... or is it? hehe byeee

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Wednesday, just a day before his scheduled morning session, the symptoms began to show. They knew from the moment he started to complain about his body aching all over. The uncertainty and concern were present from the first moment, intensifying when, as a precaution, he underwent several medical tests to verify whether he suffered from Covid or not. However, the first test came back negative. It was a breath of relief, at least for a moment. But on Friday afternoon the alarms went off, and the Aussie driver's negative became a terrifying positive that further disrupted the false peace that they had tried so hard to preserve in recent weeks.

Practice for the opening race was scheduled for the following Friday, and having to isolate in accordance with local regulations meant that Daniel would go into the new season without having driven the car since last month.

Locked away from the outside world, tension brewed within the confines of a hotel room. This forced proximity only served to accentuate the strains that had long been present. The fraying edges of your relationship were now illuminated under the harsh fluorescent lights, magnified by the claustrophobic confinement of quarantine.

You entered the bedroom and found him lying on the bed, wearing a navy shirt and a pair of sweats, his feet locked at the ankles and his attention focused on his phone.

“How are you feeling?”

“’m fine,” he sighed.

“Do you need anything?” you tried again.

“Nope.”

You went to lay down on your side of the bed. “Heard Lando had problems with the car today.”

“Seems the car is even shittier than last year.” He let out a dry laugh. “But I wouldn’t know because I’m stuck in this fucking hotel room for the rest of the week.”

“Look on the bright side, you’ve got a couple of extra days to relax before the craziness of the season begins.” You gave a half shrug.

“Wouldn’t exactly call this relaxing. But you wouldn’t understand.”

“What does that mean? I know how you’re feeling-”

He shook his head and huffed, dropping his phone on the bed. “No, that’s the thing. You don’t know, sweetheart. How would you know? You didn’t get a fucking positive result and was forced to stay inside these walls, watching how everyone else gets the chance to freely try out their cars before they really have to focus on the season. You’re only stuck here as a precaution. It’s funny, you know…” He snorted. “You’ve been traveling a lot lately. And it’s been fine in the meantime. But as soon as you get here—”

“Are you saying that all of this is my fault?” The tension in the room was palpable as the argument raged on.

He rubbed his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling. He wouldn't even look at you — and somehow that annoyed you even more.

“Oh, I’m sorry for not being considerate enough to also get sick, it’s not like I can actually control that. But that might be my fucking fault, too. I’m too fucking busy being worried about your health. My bad.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm your beating heart. You turned back over to face away from him.

You felt so tired and hurt. In the last few days, these walls have felt like a battleground, waiting for you to engage in combat. And all you keep doing is try to stand tall pretending to be the bravest soldier.

It all began with the relentless hate that had been heaped upon you recently. At first, it was fine, it was expected, and you would laugh about the things they were saying. You must have been blinded by the honeymoon phase, as some people call it, but all things must come to an end. Lately, Daniel's devoted fans had turned into a fierce mob, outraged and blaming you for his performance last year, saying it was all the time he's been spending with you instead of focusing on his career. The hateful comments and messages had started to poison the relationship.

You guessed that it was easier when you were the only target. It was bearable to an extent; you could take it. Wasn't the first time it happened, and you supposed it was all part of the “big show”. But once they started targeting him too – things took a 180-degree turn.

Daniel and you had been inseparable for two years, celebrating your anniversary not too long ago. Now, you both lay silently in your hotel room; the once fiery love now reduced to smoldering embers.

He sighed and turned his head in your direction. “Babe, I—”

“It’s okay.” You mumbled squeezing your eyes shut, trying to keep in the tears that threatened to fall. “Goodnight.”

He covered his eyes with his hands; he didn’t mean to snap at you like that. He could hear you taking deep breaths, and something in his chest felt heavy. This need to bicker, to fight with you had been present for a few weeks, but lately had reached an all-time high.

The 2021 Formula 1 season had brought with it a surge of emotions that Daniel hadn't anticipated. As he settled into his new role with McLaren, the pressure to prove he was the more experienced driver in his first year with the team weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Every race was a chance to show the world that he still had what it took to compete at the highest level of motorsport. The expectations were high, and the scrutiny was relentless. Fans, the media, and fellow drivers all wondered if the Honey Badger could return to his former glory.

The season brought a mix of highs and lows. The highlight, undoubtedly, was the victory in Monza. It was a moment that should have been celebrated longer as a triumph for both Daniel and McLaren. However, amidst the jubilation, there was a bitter undercurrent of frustration. It seemed that the team's focus was already shifting to the next race, their first win in 12 years overshadowed by the relentless march of time.

Daniel's frustration grew as he watched the spotlight turn away from Monza's victory. He yearned for the recognition, the culmination of a year of hard work and perseverance. But as the season continued, the pressure only increased. The wins were non-existent, and the losses weighed heavily on him, each one gnawing at his confidence.

The expectations for the coming season were higher than ever. He knew that he had to perform at his best to silence the critics and prove that he still had that competitive edge. The weight of those expectations seemed to hang over him, a constant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.

Each race weekend would become a test, a chance to prove himself once again. The roar of the engines, the smell of burning rubber, and the pressure of the competition were all part of the Formula 1 world that he loved, but they also added to the mounting stress.

You couldn’t sleep at all.

Sleep evaded you that night. Your mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to fix the fractured parts of the relationship. Where did it go wrong? The question replayed over and over again like a broken record.

You stretched your arm to grab your phone from the nightstand and check the time.

2:30 A.M. Just a little bit less than 4 hours until the sun would come out. And 5 more days until you both would be free to leave this room.

You stood up from the bed and went to Daniel’s bedside table to look for the fingertip pulse oximeter. Once you found it, you knelt down and took his hand, careful not to wake him, and placed the oximeter on the tip of his index finger. After a few seconds of waiting for the values to remain constant, you sighed with relief when a big 98 appeared under the oxygen saturation. Thankfully, his symptoms were not of great concern, and he showed constant improvements. But you didn’t want to risk it, so every few hours you made sure to check his vitals just so you could have a little peace of mind. Especially when he was sleeping.

You couldn’t help but look at him for a moment. He looked to be in a profound state of sleep, so calm and so beautiful. His features, usually animated and lively, rested in a serene calm. You observed the rise and fall of his chest, the tranquil expressions that danced across his face, and the gentle harmony of his breathing. In these hushed moments, it was like nothing had changed, where you were still you and he was still the same Daniel that promised you that you were a team.

As you gazed upon him, your heart was a mix of conflicting emotions. On one hand, there was the undeniable warmth and affection that comes from witnessing his vulnerability in slumber. Yet, a touch of sadness lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the unresolved tension from the previous fight. The serenity of his sleep served as a poignant backdrop to your disagreements, and you desperately longed for the chance to mend the rift and return to the peace you once shared.

It didn’t take long for the tears to appear again and you couldn’t help but curse being so sensitive. You stood up; you knew that going back to bed was useless, so you headed out of the room. You ended up curled up on the couch in the dark living room of your hotel room, the soft glow of your phone screen casting a bright light on your tear-streaked face. You debated whether calling one of the girls or just text them in need of letting all this helplessness out. But you didn't want to bother them with your problems, you knew they already had enough with their owns. So, you gave up on the idea.

Your relationship with Daniel had been a whirlwind of love and excitement, a passionate journey that had weathered ups and downs, but always coming out stronger on the other side. Now, you weren’t so sure you would come out of this unscathed.

Was it time to let it go? You couldn’t help but wonder. You weren’t new to this predicament. It happened before with your last relationship. But with Harry, the revelation that it was over came naturally and gently. You both were on the same page and knew it was inevitable. But with Daniel, your heart told you to continue, begged you to keep fighting while your mind was sending out warning signals that you chose to completely ignore.

The bright Bahraini sun shone through the big windows when Daniel, out of habit, rolled over to pull your body closer and instead felt the coldness of the sheets on your side of the bed. He opened his eyes and searched around the room. The bathroom door was open, and the lights were off, so you couldn’t be there. He stood up and left the room, yawning. He found you in the same place you ended up last night, curled up and holding a pillow to your chest.

The dark bags under your eyes were more prominent this morning. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in his chest at the sight of you. He got closer and leaned down to place a tender kiss on your forehead and felt you stir for a moment before slowly opening your eyes. You rubbed your eyes before looking up at him silently.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you said in a sleepy voice.

“What are you doing here?” he yawned, taking a seat on the couch as you moved back to give him space.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied in a muted voice, eyes downcast, fiddling with your fingernails.

And that was the routine after an argument: fight. One of you would try to walk away to calm down (most of the time it was you). Pretend nothing happened and go back to normal – well, whatever normal meant these days. Repeat.

A heavy silence settled between you. He leaned back on the couch, just staring at your face. He knew he should say something. Apologize even. But the words refused to come out. Meanwhile, thoughts swirled in your mind, doubts that had been lingering for a while now. Was it all in your head? Had you been the problem all along?

No.

As the seconds ticked by, the fog began to lift, and with it came a newfound clarity. It wasn't all in your head, and you weren't the sole problem. You had believed for so long it was your responsibility to make things right, to hold everything together. But it had been a shared responsibility, a partnership that had eroded in different ways.

Yes. You had both contributed to this.

You had underestimated the significance of his actions, his choices, and his words. In the process of taking all the blame, you had overlooked how he had let things slip away, how he had failed to communicate, and how he had allowed the distance to grow. You realized that it was a two-way street, and while you had been quick to accept responsibility for your part, it was time for both of you to acknowledge your roles in your shared demise.

Something within you was stirring, a growing realization that you couldn't keep shouldering the blame for everything. It wasn't fair to you, nor was it the path to a healthy and equal relationship.

"I can't do this anymore, Daniel," you murmured, your eyes brimming with sadness.

"No, no no— no we're not doing this—"

“Amor, please,” you pleaded in a whisper. Tears welled up in your eyes, but your resolve held firm. “We've been arguing about everything lately. All of this is hurting us. Your fans—”

Daniel's heart ached, but he lashed out in defense. “You know it's not that simple! I can't control what my fans say—”

Your irritation boiled over. "But you can defend me, Daniel! You can stand up for us!”

Frustration welled up in Daniel, his voice growing sharper. "I'm trying to protect what's left of my career, YN! Last season was awful for me, apart from one win, which was insignificant, apparently. I've got my own fucking problems!” He stood up forcefully and started to pace around the room.

Your anger flared and big angry tears streamed down your face. “You think it's only your career that's on the line? What about us? We're supposed to be a team, supporting each other. ‘Us against everything else’, remember? But you're making it all about you!” you screamed at him, standing up from where you were previously sitting.

He suddenly stopped in front of you. “You're too young and naive to understand the pressure I'm under. It's not just about us. It's about my career, it’s about my life! And that’s very rich coming from you,” he scoffed. “What about your fans, huh? The hate I'm getting from them and other people, it's taking a fucking toll!” he hissed. You stared at him, feeling shocked by his words. He kept going. “And let’s not forget how fucking clingy you’ve been. You suffocate me sometimes. Must be nice to have a job where you can just drop everything anytime you want and take paid vacations to follow me around.”

His words left you feeling as though the ground had been yanked from beneath your feet.

You're too young and naive. How fucking clingy you’ve been — You suffocate me sometimes. His words echoed incessantly in your mind like a stuck playback.

When did the insecurities shared transform into arrows, aimed at your most profound wounds?

You snapped, “You knew what you were getting into when we started dating. And I warned you. I gave you an out so many times, but you decided to stay.” A bitter laugh left your mouth. “You said I was the greatest risk you’ve ever taken and the greatest reward—”

“And I did think that, YN,” he uttered. “We lived inside a bubble for so long, but reality is different. Maybe we rushed into this too soon.”

“Come on, bury my heart deeper, Danielito. If that's what you're trying to do— it's working,” you said with a pained smile, eyes only focused on him.

The room seemed to grow colder, and your voices decreased in volume. But the damage had been done. Daniel realized the pain his words had caused, but his own frustration clouded his judgment. “This wouldn’t even be a problem, if you wouldn’t make one out of it,” he muttered bitterly.

“Please, don’t make this worse than it already is,” you agonized; your voice was shaky. Invisible claws of grief and anguish were tearing at the muscles and tendons in your chest. You never knew that emotions could possess such tangible, physical presence.

“If only we had met on different grounds. Then maybe things would have been different, we would be different.”

You couldn't help but add more fuel to the fire. You lacked the capacity for a graceful exit, and if you were aflame, you'd ensure that he, too, would turn to ashes. “Do you mean what if I was different?” A new wave of anger swept over you.

That question caught him off guard, forcing Daniel to pause and stare at you, honest surprise and confusion coloring his face. “What?”

Your voice trembled with a mix of frustration and hurt as you confronted him. “Heidi's constant presence in the paddock these past few months, the way you've been talking to her, and how people are speculating about you two... It's causing me to doubt myself and my place in your life.”

Daniel's brows furrowed, and his voice carried irritation. “YN, this is ridiculous. Heidi is just a friend. We've been through this countless times.”

You inched forward as you tried to make him understand. “I know she's your friend, but the way you've been spending time with her lately... it's different. I can't shake off the feeling that there might be something more.”

Daniel rolled his eyes, his frustration mounting. “You're being crazy, YN. We're just friends, and it's unfair of you to accuse me, and especially her, like this.” In a further defensive move, he shot back, “You're the one who had those cheating rumors circulating, not me. You should know how destructive and unfounded these accusations can be. And now, you're doing the same thing with Heidi?”

It felt like a hard punch to your gut, you took in a sharp breath, “So, you're bringing this up again? We already cleared the air about those false accusations when they hit us. I would never dare cheat on you!” Your frustration was palpable.

“And why is it so fucking hard to believe I wouldn’t either?” Suddenly, you could clearly see how sadness clouded his features.

The room seemed to close in around you both. Then, all of a sudden, you realized that healing from this and moving forward required a level of understanding and compassion that seemed beyond reach in the heat of this argument.

In that moment, you knew for certain that it was over. The love you had once celebrated, the memories you had shared, now felt like distant echoes of a happier time.

How did you both allow things to spiral into such chaos? This living room had transformed into a battleground, where words cut like knives. Where were the Daniel and YN who were deeply in love? The ones who, for the first time, felt safe to be vulnerable and discuss a future they had envisioned together; one with a couple of tiny little feet running around the farm in a couple of years and joking about how wild a perfect mix of Australian and Latino genes would be. Now, you stood face to face, unrecognizable, refusing to show any sign of surrender.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It wasn’t supposed to end at all.

The silence in the room was suffocating. All the energy and adrenaline left your body at once. You felt emotionally drained, as though a storm had swept through your heart and left it battered and exhausted.

You took a sit back on the couch and ran your hands across your face, squeezing your eyes shut. “We can't go on like this.”

So, this is it, Daniel thought. Dread twisted in his gut; he felt like he might throw up. His shoulders slumped and he raked his fingers through his hair as he took a seat next to you. The vulnerability in your words cut him deeply, but he understood the gravity of the situation. "You're right," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. “We tried, didn’t we? We gave it our best shot” a sad smile adorned his tired face. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” he murmured as tears shone in his eyes.

“I'm sorry, too. I wanted to make it work. I always just wanted to be the one.” Your heart seemed to shatter into even smaller fragments. As you wiped away a single tear that trickled down your cheek, the physical act of brushing it away only served to accentuate the profound pain that had settled within your chest. It felt as though each tear carried with it a piece of your shattered dreams and the love that was now slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. In that fleeting moment, your heartache intensified, and you realized that this breakup was leaving you more broken than you had ever thought possible.

As the final words echoed in the room, you, your tears spent, turned and walked out into the bedroom, leaving Daniel alone with the weight of what had just transpired.

As soon as you left the room, you locked yourself in the bathroom and texted Blake. You asked him if there was any chance, he could talk to the hotel so you could get another room for the remaining time you had to be in quarantine. The request took him by complete surprise, and you explained shortly that Daniel and you had just broken up.

He assured you he was going to do everything in his power to get you a new room. You were sure that as soon as you hung up the phone, he was already texting Daniel asking for a better explanation.

As you sat on the bathroom floor, the pain was all-encompassing, a relentless throb deep within your chest that left you gasping for air. It felt as though a gaping void had taken up residence in your heart, and you weren’t sure how to fill it.

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks. Numbness had started to settle in. A surreal feeling that this couldn't be real, that you would wake up from this nightmare at any moment. You wished that a switch would flip and make it all go away, but the pain persisted.

Bitterness and anger boiled within you. You felt wronged by the universe, by the cruel twist of fate that had torn you both apart. You resented the public scrutiny, the relentless judgment from fans and strangers alike, and the demands of your high-profile careers.

You felt unbearably alone. You longed for Daniel’s presence, for the familiar comfort of his arms, but he was no longer yours to hold. Your heart ached for the man you thought, for a short period, you would spend the rest of your life with, even though you knew that was no longer possible. The pain of heartbreak was, for you, an agonizing and inescapable reality, and you had yet to discover how to heal and move forward.

Turns out Blake went beyond of what you initially asked for. He arranged for you to take the PCR test again to confirm that you had not contracted the virus while sharing a room with Daniel.

After two slow and torturous days, where you spent your time curled up on the couch and Daniel spent his in the bedroom — a decision you made, he was the sick one after all. After two consecutive negative results, you were given the green light to leave. You had already packed your things after your call with Blake a few days ago, hoping you could change rooms. He had asked you if you needed anything else, saying he was willing to facilitate everything for you. He saw you as a fundamental part of this little dysfunctional family and had developed a deep affection for you. You couldn’t thank him enough.

Soon you had a plane waiting to take you back to L.A., to a house, not a home, all alone. You were leaving behind what you've come to realize was your home in the last two years.

You awkwardly said goodbye to Daniel. Your voice sounded tired, while he shifted on his feet on the threshold of the bedroom door. Curls wild, beard a bit longer than the past days and the bags under his eyes looked even more prominent. Despite the visible signs of weariness on both of you, you still couldn't draw any solace from the shared pain.

You knew you had to find your own path, to heal from these wounds, and to rediscover who you were outside of the relationship. As the plane took off, you made a silent promise to yourself to emerge from this ordeal stronger, wiser, and ready to face the world, no matter how unforgiving it might be.

[mrghostrat]

i appreciate all the kindness for my uni rejection, and anyone going through the same thing should def read through my replies if they need similar comfort. there’s a lot of “ATAR isn’t everything!” comments tho, which made me realise i haven’t actually talked much about my goals, so i wanted to share a little context.

i’m 30 (on the 17th). i took a gap year after high school and i went to uni at 19. i even dropped out a semester before graduating to pursue the one thing that was making me happy (my first original comic) during a really bad depression (undiagnosed adhd burnout). i got the last units and graduated a year later, a bachelor of game design.

haven’t used my degree once. i went into comics and freelance rather than games. but i also loved that degree and would do it all again, it was absolutely worth it.

i’ve been freelance and self sufficient for 6-7 years, and it’s fun and i’m proud of the things i’ve made, but i’m so tired. i’m specifically tired of having to work 7 different angles to make up one sufficient salary, and even if it ends up being temporary, i’d give anything for a 9-5. have someone else in charge for once.

got to the end of my rope last year and sat down to figure out what i like and what i’m good at. a Life Plan, yknow. i’ve always had an interest in teaching, helping, connecting like that. figured out degrees and became really invested in this new trajectory i pictured my life going on. i was also tired of waiting, because every time i wanted to move back to the city from this tiny town we’re in, somethings come up or delayed it. so zita helped me figure out how we could get the ball rolling and break our lease 3 months early, so we could move back to melbourne and i could start my degree this year. we looked for (and found) an apartment specifically on the side of the city that would be closest to my campus.

i hope that gives a lil context as to why i’m so devastated right now. the last 5 months have been me revving up to start this new chapter at the end of feb and one little email said nah.

the degree i wanted to do was a double degree, secondary education (hons) and a BA of fine arts. i was equally excited for both, because i never got to do a lot of actual art learning in my last degree, and the BA would give me all of that— life drawing, sculpting, painting, wood/metal/jewellery working, digital, fuckin everything. but it was the less important of the pair, when it comes to getting myself a job as an art teacher, because i already have the art experience. it was just a fun bonus, and the education degree was the one i NEEDED.

in nov i had to travel to melbourne to present a portfolio and interview for the BA. they showed me around the studio too, and i fell a little bit in love. i got the acceptance email in december, but i still didn’t have an offer for the education degree. another reason why i’m so discombobulated— i technically have an invitation, but it’s for the less important degree that would just be a money sink. do i go to uni anyway?? or just ignore this invitation and move on?

my state recently made education/teaching degrees free as a way of encouraging more teacher jobs. i learnt about this after i decided i wanted to pursue teaching, so it was just a fun lil bonus that i wouldn’t be adding to my student debt. apparently not, bc i didn’t think about how every teenager and their dog would apply for teaching degrees so they could get straight into uni without any debt. so, even tho i’m a graduate and i’m not relying on school scores, i was one in a million, likely just numbers on a page, and didn’t get in.

there could be other paths. i could start the BA and add the Edu degree later? i could reapply for mid year intake. i could… idk, most of what i could do requires emailing Monash and asking wtf, because i have no idea what’s actually possible and will need someone to lay it out for me.

still feels like i’ve run into a brick wall though. little bit shut down. more sad, not quite angry, but suddenly really spiteful for some reason— like “oh, you don’t want me? okay fuck you then, i won’t ever teach.” so stupid. just a bit fragile rn

[shittalkcornstalk]

“Take One For The Team”

Part 3

Synopsis- After another week of successfully placating Buggy the Clown, you start seeing him in a new light. You unassuredness on these feelings leads you to take some one on one time with him, maybe that’ll clear your mind, or just make things worse…

A/n: This chapter is longer than the previous ones since it was the first chapter I wrote after sharing the first one! I am still figuring out the order of how I want certain events to play out, but I have a few scenes/plot points figured out. This chapter is nothing but fluff. Any comments on missing tags is appreciated!

Warnings- xfemreader!, Use of Y/n, 18+ minor dni, Eventual Smut, mild manipulation on both your parts at h this point, alcohol use, weapons mention, age gap mention

Word Count- 3.8k

Chapter 3 “A Change In Course”

Your pretty outfits continued, as well as Buggy’s new style of flirting. Every so often you were pulled into his gaze and words trapping you in moments that felt more and more intense. He got very good at making you lose yourself for a moment only to pull you back out and act like nothing happened. Comments were often in passing but they still made you go blank. It became very clear you were stepping into uncharted waters, but life had never been better. Buggy may have been a mean Captain, but he could be just as fun and exciting. The last week had been nothing but fun, as the crew lavished in drinks and music in the nights as you docked onto a small town. Whenever you all trained he watched over you all with an encouraging support rallying you all to his cause. It made you believe he actually wanted you all to succeed by his side. It was kind of cute seeing him so passionate about all of you. And that’s where the problem arose. You found yourself calling him cute in your head, genuinely giggling at his jokes at dinner, and maybe even enjoying his lingering eyes. Shit shit shit. You are not developing a crush on him, not at all, you can’t.

You meet up with the “Keep Buggy Happy” team a couple times a week to go over plans and celebrate your continued success. Lately though you find yourself drinking heavier than usual as the two men discuss your recent attempts at winning the Captain over.

“You’ve really upped your game y/n you look like you're flirting with him so effortlessly-“ Moji commends you.

You aren’t doing much of anything intentionally anymore, other than the outfits, all the giggles and blushing is all too real. Cabaji and Moji haven’t noticed you’ve been slipping on your act, but a very observant woman is well aware.

“Yesssss she’s been doing such a good job -faking- all those reactions, haven’t you y/n.” She chuckles to herself and takes a swig.

“ Well it helps he’s an easy target and this liquor makes things a lot easier” You take a sip from your glass and appreciate the nicer richer flavors of the liquor selection that Alvida has permitted you to take from. The stuff in there is only really allowed to be drunk by her and…

She leans in to whisper in your ears suddenly.

“You know that’s Captains personal favorite~”

Your breath hitches , maybe it’s the alcohol hitting your system but your body gets warmer. You’ve smelt this drink on his breath before whenever he leaned in to whisper his advancements in your ear. As the drink hits your tongue you can only imagine him drinking it. The way his mouth must taste like this after a night out… You immediately start feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Alvida laughs at your reaction and pats you on the back taking you out of your intrusive thoughts.

“Well it seems our honeypot is doing just fine at her job without your input, why don’t you boys give us some time alone. On a ship full of men us girls rarely get time for girl talk” She waves them away. Alvida had never been this chummy with you before, but based off of that last line you were expecting more teasing to come your way. Cabaji and Moji left and she leaned into you closer.

“You little slut, you really like him don’t you-“ She laughed at your expense as you droop your head down.

“I don’t know, maybe…” You really weren’t sure. All this attention from him was getting to your head. You’d seen a slightly different version of Buggy this past week, and this one wasn’t totally reprehensible.

She sighed at your apprehension. “Listen, why don’t you take advantage of us docking in town tonight. I was supposed to run some errands with the clown tomorrow , but I can send you instead, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the company. It’ll give you some time to clear your head and get to see him out of the context of Captain a bit. Maybe it’ll help you figure out some of this confusion.”

You took a swig of your drink and took a deep breath considering your options. You hadn’t had a lot of alone time with Buggy before, maybe this would make you realize this silly crush was just a phase.

“Ok I’ll give it a go”

The next day you got ready without Alvida. You took the time to take care of your appearance but you opted for a more relaxed outfit. You didn’t want to work him up if he was gonna spend an entire afternoon with you. Heading to the docks you met up outside with Buggy. He grumbled looking at a small paper with a list of supplies for the ship, adding a couple of things with a small pencil he tucked into his hat. You tapped him on the shoulder as he concentrated on the sheet.

“Captain Buggy? Alvida told me you needed help shopping today and sent me to find you.”

Buggy turned around fast and crumbled the paper in his hands as he was shocked to see you.

“Gah! You scared me y/n. Sneaking up on your Captain like that is how you get a knife to the throat-“ His chest puffed as his breath quickened, you noticed his limbs had detached at the joints only a smidge. He was always so reactive like that, always on edge, but you’d imagine you’d be too if you were a wanted pirate captain. You pat him on the shoulders giggling at the response, hearing the subtle noise of his limbs reattaching.

“I’ll keep that in mind- now what did you need to do in this town anyway?”

“Well Alvida and I were supposed to pick up some food rations for the ship and ammo before we headed out, this will be the last town for a while so we’re docking here until we’re fully set. I needed to order stuff now and I was hoping Alvida could keep track of todays shopping for when we needed to load the cargo, but you’ll do fine-“

Most of the time Buggy had been either ordering you around or flirting with you, you weren’t used to seeing him this calmly professional. You obliged and followed him around doing this busy work, after all you were one of his crew. You kind of forgot he was your boss sometimes. You made your way to the food markets where Buggy pulled a knife on a butcher who noticeably tried to upcharge him on meat. You never took notice of how much money it took to keep the ship well fed, it made your portion sizes seem more significant. After the food market, Buggy rushed over to the ammo shop he’d marked out on a little map of the town you were in. He was so giddy to restock on his favorite items, he didn’t realize he gripped your wrist to pull you faster to your destination.

“You’re gonna love this y/n” He spoke so excitedly rushing through the crowded streets not letting go.

His eyes lit up at seeing the selection this shop had. He pointed out the bombs he inspired his own Buggy Balls after and the tiny cherry bombs he practiced with as a kid. He pulled up to the clerk to talk shop with him and you browsed the selection as he negotiated. You took your time looking at a small gun that sat under glass. It was a cute little revolver with a bright red handle. You’d dabble with guns before but always stuck to more hand to hand combat. The bright red was eye-catching, certainly flashy enough to be a weapon for a Buggy pirate.

You hear the shop clerk and Buggy make some joke only two weapons experts would get. They get a bit louder as the joking continues when you hear a deal being made.

“I’ll give you the lot for a discount, and I’ll throw in the cherry revolver your little girlfriend keeps eyeing up-“

You immediately turn your head away to keep Buggy from seeing how the little misunderstanding made you feel. Buggy laughs it off and shakes the man’s hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal!” He turns to you. “Can’t go wrong with a little added self defense, right doll?” He played into the clerk’s perception and watched as you shifted your head back to respond, seeing if you’ll take the bait and play into the role.

“Yeah… of course babe-“ You are flustered but want to keep on the clerks good side, he was giving you quite the deal after all.

It takes a little longer than expected for Buggy to finish off the transaction and shopkeep left the room for a moment with your new pistol. You both leave the store and you take note of the added inventory the ship will be taking in. Buggy watched you fill out the form waiting for the silent concentration to break so he could tease you about what just happened. You place the papers in your bag and he hands you a nice leather box.

“Anything for my girlfriend-“ He teased you, really emphasizing the last word. You open it and as expected it was the gun, what you weren’t expecting was his name engraved on the handle in a swirly font.

“Just letting the people you plan to shoot with that thing, just who your captain is-“

He’d held off on any greater advancements early today, but after that little scene in the store he couldn’t keep himself from being assertive.

“You did such a great job as my little helper today, why don’t we get some lunch before doing the rest of the day’s itinerary, my treat-“ He grinned at you as you still inspected your new weapon, now branded with his identity.

You nodded and walked with him to a fairly nice seaside restaurant. Now you two were alone with each other truly, no distractions or store workers to keep you from really talking. He ordered a drink and you followed suit, hoping to get some liquid courage as he leered at you. When it hit the table you gulped it down rather quickly, he noticed.

“Are you thirsty doll? You could always order another if you want-“ He looked at you humming before taking a long sip of his drink, taking it all down at once as you see his throat bob. “In fact let’s both get another round, we deserve to loosen up a bit don’t we?” He chuckles and signs to the waiter to bring two more to the table. It takes all your courage to break the silence, but you finally pipe up.

“So what does the rest of the day have in store for us Captain Buggy? More shopping I assume-“

“Captain Buggy…I thought I was babe now?” He laughed at you and your face tightened. “Take a joke sweets, I just thought it was funny that guy thought a girl like you would be seen with a guy like me-“ He waves his hands over himself taking a little too much time around his face, specifically his nose.

“Oh Captain I don’t see it that way, it was just a little awkward ya know? Since you're my boss and all? I just played along so we could get that discount he was talking about-“ Even if this little crush was a phase, it was kind of disheartening to hear Buggy talk about himself like that. You never noticed how self deprecating he could be. He wasn’t unattractive and you certainly wouldn’t be embarrassed if more people thought you were his- now you were digging yourself in a hole… luckily he broke you out.

“Yeah well it was nice to get to talk about my speciality with someone, as for the rest of the day we mainly need to pick up smaller items. Stuff we won’t have to worry about having the crew load onto the ship. I need to pick up more map making supplies, Alvida requested more liquor as it seems it’s been running out faster, and we’ll need a bit more medical supplies.” You never realized how much Buggy was really in control of. He had a moderate crew but his inclination to hire ‘freaks’ left him with a lot of fighters, but not a lot of specialists. You wish you could lighten the load for him, but you weren’t hired for any special talents either.

“Wow that’s a lot to keep track of, I don’t know how you do it Buggy-“ You looked down at your drink swirling the tiny straw. You didn’t mean too but you did two things that rang in Buggy’s ears like wedding bells. You stroked his ego so subtly, praising him for his underappreciated efforts, and for the first time you called him by just his first name. He liked how casually you saw him in the moment. It made his cheeks flush, maybe he was closer than he thought.

“We’ll it’s always nice to be appreciated- but it helps a lot to have a crew like you… you all..” He coughs out the last words, to make it seem impersonal.

Before you knew it the food came out and you two shared stories about your lives. Buggy told about his past like it was a performance but you noticed him skipping over a couple of ‘unimportant’ details. He mainly brushed over a straw hat character, but based on timing, you’d place the kid who stole his map a few months back was far too young to be the same person. He got so excited telling you about his adventures that you got lost in his words. He really had so much life experience, and even with the caveat that you were younger than him, you really hadn’t had any big adventures in your life, at least not till him. Buggy opened up the world to you with very little to go off on. And now you were sitting across from him as he told you about his life, things you never heard before from him. That kind of trust shouldn’t be taken lightly. You feel a warmth rush over you as you smile and giggle at all the little flourishes he does to make the story seem grander, to make it more entertaining for you, his only audience member. He really is one of a kind. As you look into his eyes you feel the pit in your stomach form you break your attention from him. You excuse yourself to the ladies room and feel the impending dread rush over you. You pull the gun from your pocket tracing your fingers on the engravement. You look up at your flushed face and it all falls together.

“Shit-“

You have a crush on Buggy the Clown.

You give yourself a light pat on the cheek to get yourself to focus. He’s out there, you know how he feels about you, and now you return those feelings. How the hell are you supposed to go about this day like normal? How can you look at the guy and watch him flirt without losing your cool? Does this count as a date? The errands before could be chocked up to just a Captain and crewmate running inventory, but now you two were alone at a restaurant sharing drinks and stories. Maybe the second drink wasn’t smart. You could feel your cheeks get flushed and your head spin. You wondered what Buggy was thinking out there, you didn’t want to have him wait too long but you couldn’t bear to leave the bathroom just yet.

Meanwhile Buggy leaned back in his chair, thumping his leg up and down anxiously. He called the waiter over and requested another drink, anything to calm him down. This entire time he’s been flipping between that cool guy exterior he so desperately wants you to fall for and the absolute loser he believes himself to be. He can’t believe he talked himself into pulling that engravement stunt in the weapons shop, but seeing you get all shy at the clerk’s miscommunication did something to him. He wanted to draw more of that embarrassment out of you no matter how direct he had to be. He wanted to see you flustered and skittish thinking about how cute it was when you played along with the game. He tried to clear the air later, a bit of self deprecation always saved him from getting hurt, but when you fought back even just a little at the notion you two didn’t make sense he was over the moon. He wanted that to mean so much more than just an off handed comment. Buggy wanted himself to not be a joke to you. While you were held up in the bathroom he fought between wanting you back in his sight and wishing you’d stay in just a little longer. He needed to compose himself if you were to finish the meal in one piece

Meanwhile you finally calmed down enough to go back to the table. If this was a date or just two people sharing a meal there was no real reason to make it awkward. Buggy looked at you walking back to the table and gulped down his drink. He’d made sure to have the previous glass removed so as far as you knew he’d been sipping on the second drink just like you. He was already worried about looking like a jackass, he couldn’t deal with being a drunk as well.

“So this is the last time we’ll be on land for a while right? We’re heading out to a big stretch of sea after we get done here-“ You recall seeing the plans spread out at dinner a day ago. You’d be out at sea for at least a month before you’d be docking again somewhere.

“Yeah if all goes according to plan. Now's the time to pick up anything you’ll need in the incoming weeks. We’ve been making good time so if you need to stop anywhere while we’re out today, just let me know. I’ll add it to the list.” He leaned back into professional talk as it seemed to be the only way to calm his nerves.

You thought patiently about if there really was anything you’d run low on. You were fine on clothes, though you wished Alvida hadn’t ransacked your closet. Nothing came to mind until you realized you were low on shower supplies.

“Oh I think I need more shampoo and conditioner- the stuff stocked in the bathroom is running dry-“

“Ah well I’ll see if there’s a store nearby that sells that kind of stuff- what were you looking for anyways-“ He didn’t want to let on that he’d known the exact brand and scent of hair care you used.

You absentmindedly forget yourself and slip out how much you know as you respond “oh whatever you usually pick out for me works-“

Buggy gawks at you. Who told you this information? As far as he was concerned he’d sneak it to your room and drop them off without your notice . He never let on that he’d personally bought all of your shower supplies, taking special care to pick fragrances he enjoyed smelling on you when he had those moments where he was just close enough to catch it in the air. He loved vanilla and musky woody smells on you, it reminded him of sweets and old ships. But nevertheless you clearly knew something, what was he supposed to say?

You pick up on this slip of the tongue, you gotta save this somehow- “Well you pick out all our supplies, right? I always assumed you bulk ordered them, I’m sure the others will need some supplies as well. Should I add it to the list for all of us?”

Buggy could afford to maintain a ship, but he couldn’t afford to pay for a crew's worth of fancy soaps. It wasn’t cheap keeping you smelling like that, to give everyone the same treatment would not only break his wallet, it would totally kill the mood of your scent if he started smelling it on Moji…the thought of that pissed him off. He thought today was going smooth enough so maybe he could let this one little secret slip.

“Actually those are just for you- you always had such nice hair, I thought it’d be a shame to ruin it with the rest of the crew’s 3 in 1 garbage-“ He mumbled it a bit. You already knew he’d been going out of his way for you, but him finally being honest with you, especially about why, made your heart flutter.

“Oh, um…thank you Buggy, I really appreciate that-“Curling your hair in your fingers, taking notice to feel just how soft it really was thanks to him. He really did want to give you nothing but the best.

“You know I should’ve guessed you’d be the one on the crew to know about hair maintenance-“ You laugh a little. “You’ve always done such a great job on your own, I couldn’t believe it was real when I first saw it.”

Buggy had once again failed a task successfully. You were blushing at him, playing with your hair, and giving him compliments. He’d become jelly in the knees. You spent the rest of the lunch continuing with stories. After the little heart attack both of you endured, the conversation was a bit more stilted and quiet, both of you a little too on edge to really perform for one another. You told Buggy about your youth and how you used to want to be a marine till you saw how corrupt the system was. It had only been since you heard about Buggy and a couple others that the idea of being a pirate even crossed your mind. Back then when you heard he was in town, you’d rush to see if you could join them before it was too late. Now your audition seems a little different in context to what you now know about Buggy, but you'll keep that part to yourself. You didn’t originally plan on staying with the crew for as long as you’ve been, but the crew became more than a means to an end, they became your friends. As you voice this to Buggy he smiles softly and nods.

“I’m glad you feel that way y/n, we are truly all happy to have you on the crew-“

The lunch ends and you head out for the rest of the days shopping.

[goldenseresinretriever]

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 1

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, violence, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, eventual smut, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, You Catch More Bees With Honey. It was originally posted in November-March 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

“BRADLEY! BRADSHAW!” The flush that started on Cyclone’s neck has crept up to encompass his whole face much like a glass filling with fruit punch. You fight the urge to check your phone for the time. He might actually break his record for the longest screaming session yet and there’s a pool in the staff room riding on it that would definitely cover those new heels you’d been eyeing. Next to you, Dare Mitchell, the head coach of the San Diego Dogfighters as of last month, blatantly checks her watch and if you weren’t already enamored with everything this woman did, you definitely were now.

Cyclone’s still yelling, but the two of you stopped listening a long time ago it seems as Dare stands before looking down at you. “Come on Zam, let’s go.” If you weren’t so good at maintaining a poker face you think your jaw might have dropped. You get to your feet and follow Dare as she marches towards the door of Cyclone’s office and he finally pauses his tirade and you glance at your phone. New record indeed. “I am NOT finished!” He snaps and Dare turns in the doorway to face him coolly.

“Beau you were finished the minute this stopped being a conversation. When you’re ready to resume said conversation, you know where to find us.” She doesn’t wait for him to respond before turning on her heel and walking off down the hallway and you’re right behind her. When the elevator doors finally close behind the two of you, you feel the obligation to say SOMETHING. In your few months in San Diego, you haven’t met a lot of people with the balls to stand up to Beau Simpson. Until recently, the list began and ended with the Dogfighters’s Captain, Jake Seresin. Admittedly it only extended to when Cyclone was threatening his now-girlfriend Bugs, the assistant team physician but it was nice to see that at least someone was willing to do something about the man’s unchecked temper.

Now it included Dragon, the new goalie development coach who also happened to be Cyclone’s daughter. When she’d joined the staff, everyone had been apprehensive at best. One Simpson was already tough enough to handle but she’d surprised everyone by being congenial and even fun. She truly became one of the team, however, the day that she placed a crisp hundred dollar bill into the betting pool against her father’s temper. While Cyclone was a storm with no eye, Dragon was an eye that only seemed to blow into a storm when she stood toe to toe with her father. At least that was the word through the grapevine. Bugs had been going to drop off some paperwork in his office last week and said she’d been able to hear their shouting match from the other end of the hallway. Good for her.

The third entry was the woman standing next to you. Dare Mitchell was NHL royalty. She had been the league’s first female assistant coach and then head coach, going on to coach the Pittsburgh Penguins to no short of five Stanley Cup victories. Her nickname, Dare, stands for Definitive Authority on Rink Education, or Referee Ejection depending on who you ask. The fact that you were working alongside her still had you pinching yourself when you walked into work every morning. There’s definitely been a shift in the energy of the team since she took over the Head Coach title from Maverick after Game 3. This is just one of the many side effects and you can’t say you’re not grateful for the change.

There are unpopular whispers that Maverick asked Cyclone for the demotion himself but you know they're probably true. While Pete Mitchell is a talented hockey player, and he’s spent the years since his retirement coaching rec leagues, he’s not exactly on the level of the NHL. Why would he willingly pass the title to someone else, people ask. Well, it probably begins with the fact that she’s his wife. Dare and Pete Mitchell’s marriage is anything but common knowledge. In fact, the only people on the team that know are you, Bugs, Jake, and Maverick’s girlfriend, Penny. Sure they share a last name but Maverick’s been publically dating Penny Benjamin for the last few decades, so no one would even consider that he’s married to someone else entirely. According to Bugs and Jake, Maverick claims they separated amicably, not feeling the need to finalize a divorce but sometimes you see the way Dare stares at him when he’s not looking and wonder if that’s just his version of events.

“Thanks,” you say, awkwardly breaking the silence as the elevator travels back down to the ground floor. You never know how to talk to Dare, the temptation to make a fool of yourself by accidentally letting slip that you’re her biggest fan is a hazard you have to avoid every time you open your mouth. “Not many people are willing to stand up to Cyclone like that.”

She snorts, “It’s hard to take him seriously when every time I look at him, I just see the snot-nosed kid whose lunch money I used to steal.” You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck as you try to imagine Beau Simpson as a snot-nosed kid while also trying to process that Dare has known him for that long and used to steal his lunch money.

“You’ve known him that long?” You stammer as the elevator jolts to a halt and the two of you step out, walking side by side towards your respective offices.

“Beau and I grew up in the same town. We were never really friends but we were acquainted in the way that you know everyone in a town that small.” She shrugs. “He wasn’t always so full of hot air but maybe that’s why he is now. Needless to say, I have zero tolerance for childish tantrums in the workplace, regardless of who’s throwing them, my players or my colleagues.” You nod in agreement as you reach your office door. “And Zam? I think it might be in your best interest to have a word with Bradley Bradshaw.” The corner of her lips is teasing into the faintest hint of a smirk as you roll your eyes.

“You think?” She chuckles at that, before turning to continue to her own office.

Entering your office, you drop into your desk chair, letting out the frustrated groan you’ve been holding back all morning. You pull up Bradley Bradshaw’s profile on your computer and absently think that you should update the photo you have to his official Dogfighters’s headshot because he’s smiling in this photo and you’re pretty sure in the three months that you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him smile let alone show any expression of joy or even happiness. You jot down a note on your pink sticky note pad to update player photos. Heaving a huge sigh, you open the team portal and put in a request for a meeting with Bradley. One of the coaches will send him your way when he has a moment so in the meantime you read over his profile yet again. When Maverick first entertained the idea of trading for Bradley you hadn’t really batted an eye, even considering him a decent pick, all things considered, but now you wish you’d pushed back that day in the conference room because this man has been the beginning and end of all your problems ever since the season started. Sure you have other problems that you’re juggling. Despite your best efforts, Javy Machado continues to sleep with anything with tits, but right now it’s the least of your worries. You’re more concerned with the fact that Bradley Bradshaw’s almost spent more time in the penalty box this season than the rest of the team combined. He’s been irritable, to say the least, and while he used to play the role of enforcer more often, preferring to retaliate than provoke, ever since coming to San Diego he’s done nothing but pick fights on the ice. To the point that Cyclone’s yelling at you and Dare about it instead of Bradshaw himself. Dare because she’s his coach. You because this is doing disastrous things for the team’s reputation. Just because “fighter” is in the team name doesn’t mean it needs to be taken literally, apparently.

You don’t get it. Maverick asked for Bradley specifically, and he’s his godfather, you’d think Bradley would be ecstatic to be here. After all, his father died when he was just a kid. You’d assume that he and Maverick are close. You wonder if Dare knows anything about it. If things get dire enough you may have to ask her, even if she doesn’t know that you know about her and Maverick. Sighing, you click away from Bradley’s profile as you move on to other work while you wait for him to show, sparing a glance at the clock on the wall before picking up your phone to text the group chat labeled Cyclone Relief Fund. “19 minutes,” followed by a partying emoji. Mama’s getting a new pair of heels.

~~~~~

It’s a little after noon when there’s finally a knock on your door. You call for the knocker to enter and Bradley Bradshaw opens the door, taking a seat across from your desk. You fight an amused chuckle at the way his giant body dwarfs the petite pink armchair across from you. You have a feeling he won’t find it as funny as you do. He’s wearing a black Dogfighters’s tee that’s gripping his muscular arms for dear life over sweats, his curly hair still damp from the showers.

His whisky eyes are studying the space around you with curiosity mixed with thinly veiled disgust. You try to see it through his eyes. The boring white walls have been meticulously covered with adhesive wallpaper in a soft baby pink. Hanging on them is a carefully curated collection of art prints in matching white frames. Floating shelves on the wall are decorated with various tchotchkes in various shades of pink and white. A bright pink shag rug sits under your white wood desk, housing the pink faux leather desk chair you’re seated in and the plush pink armchair that Bradley’s spilling out of.

“Something wrong?” You ask when it’s been too long with him just blatantly ogling your decor.

“This looks like Barbie’s dream house.” He states, unamused, as his eyes come back to you.

“Actually I was going for more of an office or career Barbie than Malibu but it was probably on the vision board too.” You say, turning to your computer as you pull up the folder of articles that Cyclone sent you this morning. “Glad you like it.”

“I don’t.” His voice is flat and you peer up at him over the top of your screen. Your eyebrow twitches with annoyance at his blunt rudeness.

“Well if I ever get a suggestion box, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know, Bradshaw.” You snip as you turn the screen you’re looking at so that Bradley can see it. “So I think you can guess what you’re here to talk about. In the last fifteen games you’ve played, you’ve spent more time in the penalty box than any other player.”

He arches a dark brown eyebrow, “Hockey is a contact sport, honey.” Your eyebrow twitches again at the nickname.

“I’m sure the occasional bump is considered contact but throwing down your gloves to punch your opponent in the nose has very little to do with puck handling don’t you think?” Your voice is civil, and reasonable, as you pull up the video of Bradley’s fist making contact with the face of the Jets’s defenseman. That had handed him a five-minute major penalty for fighting.

“You’re not on the ice. Sometimes they’re asking for it.” You say a silent prayer for patience.

“You realize that you can get suspended for this right? You’re lucky you only have one instigator penalty so far out of all those fighting penalties.”

“I know that, honey. Three instigators earn you a two-game suspension, and it increases after that. I’ve read the rules.” You clench your jaw at how nonchalant he’s being about this. He’s got a smorgasbord of minor penalties, a couple of majors for general fighting, and one blatant instigator penalty. He’s on thin ice, pun intended.

“Regardless of the official NHL rules, what are you going to do if your coaches decide to bench you?” You raise an eyebrow at him and watch as he stiffens. It seems you’re finally a move ahead of him. You like it. “And given that Cyclone just yelled at me and Dare over the state of your performance? I’d say it’s bound to happen sooner rather than later.” His fists clench in his lap, but he doesn’t say anything. You decide to plow ahead while he’s not fighting every word coming out of your mouth.

“While your performance on the ice isn’t my department, how it reflects on the team is. Currently media outlets are describing you as a loose cannon and bordering on a danger to other players. If this keeps up, the team could be forced to bench you indefinitely or even let you go completely.” You purse your lips in a thin line. “I’m doing what I can in terms of damage control but we have to work together here. I can’t promise that you’re working on it if we don’t see any actual change.”

He snorts at that, sitting back as best he can. “You want some advice, honey? Stay out of it. It’s none of your business.” You clench a fist in your lap. WHY DOES HE INSIST ON FIGHTING YOU?

“Actually, it is. This is my JOB, Bradshaw. Just because you don’t feel like doing yours doesn’t mean I’m going to follow suit just because you want me to.” His honey eyes flash with warning but you don’t back down, meeting them with yours, steel in your gaze. “I didn’t get this job by letting people like you walk all over me, Bradshaw and I don’t intend on starting now.” Your fingers fly over the keyboard and you pull up some paparazzi photos from the last few weeks. “You’re getting drunk and causing trouble in public,” you click through photos of an intoxicated Bradley leaving a bar and getting into a shoving match with some guy. You sigh, fighting the urge to pinch your nose as a dull throbbing takes up residence in your temples.

Bradley just gives you a cold look. “What? So a man can’t go to a bar and have a drink anymore?” The throbbing intensifies and you fantasize about launching yourself over your desk and wrapping your perfectly manicured hands around his enormous neck.

“Look,” your voice is pure ice to hide the vitriol threatening to take over, “if you’re not going to change your behavior, at least do me a favor and be a train wreck in private from now on.” You could hear a pin drop as you barely hold back from spitting the words at Bradley. The two of you glare at each other, the white expanse of your desk a no-man’s-land between the wars in your eyes. “You’re free to go.” Your voice is the exact opposite of your face. It’s prim, proper, congenial. It matches the rest of your persona. Your bright butter-yellow suit makes you look like sunshine incarnate even as you burn underneath with the fury of a thousand suns. Bradley’s still glaring at you as he extricates himself from the armchair and stalks out the door without another word, letting the door slam behind him. You want to scream but the walls in the place are far too thin, so you do the next best thing, launching yourself out of your chair not bothering to push it back as you storm out of your office.

***

You barge into Bugs’s office and she looks up from whatever chart she’s currently perusing as you grab a handful of gummy bears from her candy dish and throw yourself into the chair across from her. She raises a single eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything as you aggressively chew the green confections.

“I’d think you’d be happier since you just won the betting pool but what’s up?” She says finally when it’s obvious that you won’t be volunteering any information.

“Bradley. Bradshaw.” You spit as you pop another gummy bear into your mouth and her eyes soften in

understanding even as her mouth tightens into a tense line. You know she knows what you’re talking about, especially since she’s been the one patching him up. “Cyclone asked me to do something about him because he’s dragging the team through the mud, and you know what he said? He told me to stay out of it! As if this isn’t MY JOB! He doesn’t care about his reputation, he doesn’t care if he doesn’t get to play, I don’t get it! What’s got his panties in such a twist!” You’re fuming as you continue to shred through gummy bears. “This is an amazing opportunity! Why is he so eager to throw it away?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be here?” Bugs asks, brows furrowed in thought. “He did exclusively play for the Flyers for the last sixteen years.” You shake your head.

“That doesn’t make any sense. The Flyers have been trying to pawn him off to the highest bidder for the better part of the last two seasons.” Bugs’s eyes raise in surprise and you shrug. “He’s getting old and they would much rather have a good draft pick for rookie talent. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks and all that. At least that’s what their manager told me. When Maverick asked them for a trade they practically threw him at us, they couldn’t believe their luck.”

“Maverick asked to trade for Bradley?” She asks, confused. “Isn’t it usually the manager’s job to do that?”

You nod. “Normally, yeah, but Maverick asked for Bradley himself. Apparently, he’s his godson.” Bugs’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Bradley is Mav’s GODSON?!” You nod.

“It makes sense actually, given that he’s Nick Bradshaw’s son and all.” You watch the realization hit Bugs’s face.

“Oh my god, I never put it together.” She whispers. You can’t blame her. Bradshaw is a common enough last name and no one’s first instinct is to tie someone to a tragedy as well known as that of Nick “Goose” Bradshaw.

Nick “Goose” Bradshaw played for the Philadelphia Flyers back in the 80s, at the same time as Maverick. The two were best friends, inseparable on and off the ice. Nick Bradshaw got his nickname, Goose, because he was always sticking his neck out for Maverick and it ended in one of the most infamous hockey tragedies in NHL history.

While hockey is one of the most violent of the contact sports, it’s highly regulated to ensure that fatal injuries don’t occur due to fighting, but every now and then something slips through the cracks and that’s what happened in the case of Goose Bradshaw. Maverick got into an altercation on the ice and when another player tried to get involved, Goose tried to interfere to keep the numbers even, which resulted in him losing his helmet in the fray and being thrown into the boards, hitting his head. While the physician on duty deemed that Goose was fine, he sat out the rest of the game. Two days later he died of a brain hemorrhage, widowing his wife Carole and leaving his two-year-old son, Bradley Bradshaw, fatherless. The Bradshaw family disappeared from the public eye until Bradley caught the media’s attention when he joined the Penn State Nittany Lions in college as a left winger, following in his late father’s footsteps.

“So you’d think he’d be happy to be here, with Maverick.” You muse and Bugs nods, still frowning.

“Family doesn’t always get along, though,” she says with a shrug. You know she’s close with hers and you’re as close as you can be with yours. “But still why would he throw his whole career away like this? It doesn’t make sense.” She’s right, it doesn’t and so you’re left to ponder the enigma that is Bradley Bradshaw.

***

You’re still thinking about it as you get ready to leave for the night. Unsurprisingly, you’re the only one left. The sky has long since darkened outside, but you’re married to your job. You need to do the best you can to keep Cyclone off your back for long enough for Bradley to figure his shit out. You step into the arena proper, the lights are on as the Zamboni drives around, cleaning up the ice after practice so it’ll be perfect tomorrow morning. You gaze at the rink as the machine drives back and forth across the surface and your heart aches. A part of you longs to step back out onto the smooth surface and feel the cool air radiating off the rink kiss your cheeks just one more time. You aren’t sure when the tears filled your eyes but you blink them out as you whisper. “I miss you, Mom. I wish you were here. I wish you could see this. I’m in California now, and it’s so different from home, but you were right. As long as there’s ice, it’s not that different after all.”

[ldysmfrst]

Hello, dearest readers!

I have a new story! It kind of came out of nowhere! Well, let's be honest: post-concert Delulu mind-induced writing is where it really came from.

It was a dream I had, and then I brought it up to my friend @bethanysnow, who proceeded to convince me that it would be worth writing. The first chapter, Main Title Banner, and big and small page breaks were created in about 2.5 hours.

Remember, if you want to get early access to any of my works, it's only $5 a month. You get the extra scenes and can "Ask a character a question"!

Here is a teaser for you all. If you want the full chapter now, please go to my Patreon.

Incomplete (1) - A Pull to Where?

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 1 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 3,384 

Word count for Story: 3,384 

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does not really contain anything to warn about. (let me know if I am wrong)

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

“I can’t believe it! We are all here for the LA concert! This will be the first time for us. I am so proud of everything and love you all,” exclaimed Hongjoong. Looking around BMO stadium quickly before the VIP ticket holders came in, he could not believe they finally made it after six years. 

“All thanks to our wonderful Captain,” Seonghwa says as he back-hugs his shortest soulmate. “Did you see the lines are already starting to fill with our Atiny? Are you sure we brought enough Merch for all of them?”

“Don’t worry about that, Hwa. I am sure our management brought what they could. Remember, we have to split it between two shows. Are you sure you are up for this? You haven't taken the time to lament your grandfather’s passing. I am sure Atiny will understand if you cannot make it through the show,” Yeosang comments with a concerned look.

Smiling softly, Seonghwa replies, “Atiny are my light in my darkest times. Right now, performing for them… I feel like I am performing to keep my own light shining inside. I couldn’t do this without them, and want to perform best for this tour to honor my late grandfather.”

“Hwa, he is so proud of you. I can tell,” Hongjoong says, turning his head to kiss Seonghwa on the cheek.

One of the stagehands tells the three soulmates, “You have one hour to get ready for sound check.” 

“Let's head backstage and get ready to charm our Atiny,” Yeosang remarks as he pushes Seonghwa and Hongjoong towards the back. 

As the three missing soulmates make it behind the stage, Seonghwa feels his chest tighten. Dropping his hug on Hongjoong, Seonghwa makes his way to the side, where he can glimpse the lawn where the queue is set up for the merchandise and the standard entry. His eyes search the crowd for something. 

Maybe someone familiar or someone to stand out. 

Seonghwa was the most sensitive of all his soulmates, which is why he was known to Atiny as Momhwa. He always cared for the children (San, Wooyoung, Johngo, Yeosang, Mingi, and Yunho) while the Captain was off doing captain-like things. He was also the one to beg for alone time but then worried 24/7 that the rest of his soulmates were being taken good care of when they weren’t in his eyesight. 

Recently, the kids have grown up, which has allowed Hongjoong and Seonghwa to focus on other things. During this time, Seonghwa noticed that he felt like something was missing, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Looking over the crowds, it felt like something was nearby, but what could it be?

“Hwa-hyung, are you okay? Did you see someone out there?” asked San after noticing the intense look on Seonghwa’s face as he peeked out the gap in the stands. 

Rubbing his chest, Hwa replied, “Yeah… I think so. It just gotta be nerves. Still get them, ya know?” San nodded with a smile. “Being back in LA means so much to Joong-ah, and I don’t want to mess it up.” 

Shrugging off the tightness, Seonghwa went to his chair to prepare for sound check. He took his seat between Mingi and Yunho, who are always inseparable; their idle chatter overtook Hwas's thoughts as they got closer to showtime.

Tag List - OPEN

@bethanysnow @reallysparklychaos @braveangel777 @danielle143

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire: Exile

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: The cracks start showing

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: Some gore.... i think that's it? Pretty standard terribleness.

4.8k words

a/n: shorted song quote in a while lol This goes out to Alicia who always is drawing parallels between characters. Even if I didn't do it on purpose tee hee

a/n 2: please take note of my update on my writing here

"Second, third, and hundredth chances, balancing on breaking branches, Those eyes add insult to injury. I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending." ~Exile, Taylor Swift Ft. Bon Iver

When you wake up, you see Jonah’s head on the pillow next to you, bloody and nose caved in, eye bulging but looking directly at you. You feel hands around your waist.

You scream.

*

When Frankie and Will finally calm you down, you were coming down from another attack, his arms around your body rightly like the day in the meadow, Will’s hands on your face even though Frankie said you didn’t need that right now. 

“He’s dead.” Santi’s voice breaks your frozen state, making you jolt and turn to the right where he stood. His arms were crossed, as were his legs as he leaned against the desk.

Frankie felt your gasping chest again. “Santi, not now.”

The changes in Frankie recently were obvious… there was something different in his eyes. You found yourself clinging to him after every new disaster, his face being the guidance you need in these trying times… Until this morning when you woke up beside him, In Ben’s arms, and instead of his face you saw Jonah.

“No…” You whisper. “No he can’t be dead.” Your eyes begin to well up with tears again at the though of him being gone. He can’t be dead, you need him, you need him still. “He can’t… he can’t leave me…” Your face is already turned to the floor where you sat, but you can sense Pope’s displeasured face.

“What are you talk about?”

Angered, you shout, surprising everyone. “HE CAN”T LEAVE ME! I NEED HIM!” Your legs kick a bit like you are throwing a tantrum, but you simply can’t control your feelings.

Pope’s short legs stride over despite a warning call from Will still knelt near you. He ignores it. “Were you fucking him?”

“NO!”

Frankie’s grasp on you grows tight again, trying to prevent another melt down. 

Pope bends over. “WHY WERE YOU GOING TO MEET HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT DRESSED LIKE THIS!” He grabs your nightgown roughly, the material yanking on your still pain skin and you scream. 

“SANTI KNOCK IT OFF!” Will shoves him out of the way, giving his husband a stern look.

You begin to rock yourself, gritting teeth as you reply. “Because other clothes hurt my skin now, SANTIAGO!” You shout his real name, the sound foreign on your lips… the room lay silent as you watched the realization that you have forgone the honorific, something that might have pleased everyone in the early days… But this was not the blissful first month of your marriage. This was not a time where he wanted you comfortable, where there was an illusion that the 5 of you could leave peacefully, you as their center, not tearing each other apart with the 5 of you fighting for affection of each other. You swear you can see him put his mask on.

 Face softening, you flinch when he kneels down beside you, cupping your face in his hands with a soft smile. You are reminded of the day you met him, the day he told you that you were perfect. 

‘From now on, as long as you are what we need you to be, whatever you need, you’ll have.’

You were everything he needed you to be. You carried the savior. That was the condition, wasn’t it? Get pregnant? But the goalpost had been moved now. Remembering the burning, you think his threat

‘If that baby comes out with blonde hair, we’re going to have a problem.’ 

How could this be the same man? How could the man who seconds ago screamed at your and pulled at your sensitive skin be the same who gently knelt beside you, holding your face like he did in your first kiss.

“It’s going to be okay, love. You’re safe now, no harm will come to you. I will protect you.”

But it was different now. You realize he never protected you. Ever. Will killed Jonah for you. Will took the bullet for you. Will bathed you and healed you and massaged you. Santiago didn’t do shit.

But your body hurt, your skin aching in a reminder of what he could do to you. So you nod, tears filling your eyes. “Thank you, my husband. I just… I wish to sleep now. I’m tired.”

Seemingly buying it, he stands. “Frank, leave her be.” The gestures to the others to leave.

“Oh, uh… can Francisco stay?” You begin to sit up, off of him.

He narrowed his eyes. “I supposed. Just until you fall asleep. He’s needing to bless the water.”

Iris would have to clean the kitchen of Jonah’s blood… a cleaning ritual would have to take place with the water. Jonah couldn’t be burned alive, which is good because you doubted Iris would dance as he did. You couldn’t bear it if whatver you did to tempt Jonah resulted in her death too.

Getting into bed, Francisco goes to take his usual place in your arms, but you pull back when he reached for you.

“Sorry, sorry…” You are quick with an apology when his face crumbles. “I just… I need company. Not touch.”

He nods, looking guilty as he climbs under the blankets. “I’m so, so sorry Madonna… I never thought Jonah could do this… never thought he was the kind to… to…”

But you shake your head. “I don’t wanna talk about this, Francisco.” But after a beat, still, you ask. “Was that you that held me last night? You and Rey… you smell the same.”

“It was me. I don’t… I don’t think any of the guards should be touching you after this. Especially Rey.” You agree. Despite not wanting touch, you reach out your hand. You fall asleep to him rubbing his thumb over the top, feeling the mangled skin.

*

“Benjamin…” Frankie holds his lover, one leg hitched up against the pants Ben was trying to pull down. Francisco was always bottomless, his pants stripped away the moment they made it into Ben’s room. “Benjamin we can’t do this… she needs us…”

“We’ll be quick.” Shucking off his pants with little kicks of his leg that make Frankie smile against the younger man’s skin, Ben grips Frankie’s broad shoulders, wraps his legs around his thighs and forces them both to roll over. Francisco is always considerably impressed by his strength, always finds it hard to reconcile him with the starving boy that was found so long ago. Ben rasps, ordering Frankie where he wanted to go with such dominance, such self assuredness… “Ride me”

Guilt tightens his chest when he thinks about Madonna, how sometimes he wishes she’d take charge more… but then he remembers what the pay off is. Unlike Santi, he doesn’t have to worry about you hurting him. Unlike Ben, he knows you aren’t fucking the entire community.

His thoughts of you are pushed back when he sinks down on Ben’s cock, the long member driving right up to his prostate when Frankie’s ass hits Ben’s firm thighs. He was so different now, so capable, so strong… He wasn’t like this when he was young. No, back then, he needed Will for everything, refused to leave his side for a while… Frankie wasn’t sure who it was that found the Millers, but Jonah brought them into the mansion during a blizzard, said he found the orphans in a shitty lean-to that had caved in. The ruckous of Jonah's billowing entry has drawn Santi and Frankie downstairs where Beatriz was telling him they couldn’t stay. Jonah insisted that he’d take them to the boys dormitory in the morning, but that it was too cold to go outside again.

Will has frostbite from giving his warm clothes to Ben in hopes he’d survive. Ben was emaciated. They never did find out what was wrong with him as a child, why he was so much thinner than Will who’d give him so much more of the rare food… but even after becoming permanent members of the Garcia family, for years Ben didn’t put on weight. Then in his teens, he beefed up and became who everyone knows him as now.

“Just like that… fuck, fuck thats good Frankie…” Ben praised him, so vocal as he always was, feeding him what he needed in these moments. Frankie was aware his body was different than how the others looked, that the weight in his 30’s packed on more around his stomach, but he when he was with you, when he was with Ben, hell even when he was with Santi and Will he didn’t care. The validation he got from feeling needed, feeling desired was enough for him.

Ben thrust up into him, making Frankie cry out louder than he should, and Ben yanked him down to his level to swollow his sounds of pleasure with a kiss. And fuck, could Ben kiss. With every roll of his hips and slide of his tongue, Frankie’s eyes rolled back into his head. Nothing else mattered but Benjamin. 

Ben was only 4 when he was brought to the house, Will was 8, Frankie and Santi were 9, but Santi was almost 10. When Beatriz approached the boys huddled in each others arms, she stared for a while. They were helpless and small, and while Beatriz was a lot of things, something probably tugged at her heart. Ben gazed up at her like she was the savior herself, like all her bullshit about godhood was true. He never doubted her for a second, firmly obeying every order, explicit or implicit. That loyalty extended to Santi, and he never, ever betrayed him…. Except with Frankie. 

Tugging at Ben’s hair, Frankie humped against Ben’s body as they kissed, fucking himself on his dick and seeing stars. He loved Ben so fucking much it hurt sometimes, and it was near unbearable, it burned him from the inside out and crushed his chest but they could never, ever be together. Not with Santi.

It didn’t start out like this. Of course not, not with the age. Ben was his little brother, someone he loved as such and whose company he enjoyed. Ben and Will never left the house in the morning, Beatriz taking them in. She had her reasons of course. She said Will showed immense courage taking care of Ben after being orphaned, that the self sacrifice he showed was that of a healer's nature. Will became the God of healing and war. Duality. Ben was always full of smiles, even as a starving child. “Mi sol”, as Beatriz called him. He was the sun god.

For a long time, the four of them remained as brothers. Homosexuality wasn’t discouraged, perse… but it wasn’t encouraged. Men and women were needed to pair up to birth children. When things began to bubble up between him and Santi, Beatriz set him up with Iris. For a long time, Francisco thought something was wrong with him for not wanting Iris the way he did Santi. It wasn’t her fault; clearly she was stunning to look at, and the… activities… they had gotten up to that went beyond kissing proved that he WAS attracted to her. But nothing felt like Santi… not until Ben.

Francisco had seen Ben at the orgies they used to have, and for a long time he simply had sense of protection over him. He was too young, and Frankie worried when he reached 19, the age Frankie had been, that Beatriz would touch him too… he thought that was it. 

Then suddenly Beatriz was dead, and everything changed.

Jonah was almost killed for being found fucking Delilah who had participated in the coup. Marcus was burned to death and their future wife was burned to dance, a trauma that gives her a glassy stare for a moment every time she smells smoke. Iris was forced into servitude at the house to pay for Jonah’s sins and the engagement was, of course, called off by Santi. A vacuum had been created, power sucked in and Santiago tried to take her place.

With the chaos, Ben and Franscisco simply… fell into each other, and suddenly what he had with Santi pales in comparison.

With a fistful of hair in his hand, Ben pulled Frankie off his mouth, admiring his kiss-swollen lips as he pants. “Gotta be quite, Frankie. Gonna get you off, but you gotta be quiet. Can you do that for me, pretty boy?”

Unable to speak, Frankie simply nodded. He sat up, bouncing on his cock as Ben jerked him off. Their eyes locked together, Francisco was lost in the sky of blue in his eyes, a cloudy sky his sun god resided in.

Cum flies out of him in strong spurts onto Bens chest, cumming hard as Ben filled his asshole with his spend. Rain fell from those skies he felt burning into him, and he fell over to kiss them away. A soft smile. A gentle touch. A warm hand in his hair and body on fire. The warmth of the sun blessed him.

*

“Baby’s hungry.” You mutter on the couch, sitting on the oppiset side as Ben strummed his guitar.

Francisco smiled. “Oh, it’s the baby, is it?”

“Yeah.” You nudge him with your foot. “Baby says enchilada’s sound great.”

“Let’s go to the kitchen then. I got you.”

Ben lights up, looking away from plucking at the chords. “Oh shit, you’re making enchiada’s? FUCK yeah!”

“Noooo, I don’t wanna get up, can’t you make them?”

This makes Francisco frown. “I wanna stay near you, Madonna.”

“She doesn’t wanna see Iris.” Ben points out your fears, and Francisco’s shoulders drop.

“I let her take some time off… We’re on our own for a few days… It’s okay.”

It felt wrong being in Iris’s domain without her, watching Frankie go through her cupboards, her fridge, her pantry… Jonah was dead and it was her fault. Now both of you are orphans… How could you explain to her that you could have never meant for this to happen? That you loved him like a father, that you felt lost without him here… 

“It’s not your fault, you know.” Ben’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, making you turn to him as Francisco busied himself with the food. “Jonah will fuck anything that walks. Asshole practically raised us, then slept with Delilah.”

“Ben, I don’t really wanna-”

“Man, I used to see him at the parties, he’d bury his head in any cunt he could get his hands on-”

Your brow furrows at that. “What parties?”

“Ben!” Francisco calls. “Come help me with this.”

The men whisper argue to each other at the counter, indiscriminate words grating at your ears as you try to make sense of Ben’s words.

That’s when she walked in, trailing behind her was Reyansh.

The door opens, Iris stopping in her tracks. Her eyes were clearly red and puffy but the tears had clearly been wiped away, trying to appear indifferent. It wasn’t working. You scramble to stand, knowing you have to face her, face the consequences.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could get out.

Iris’s face crumbles. “Honey…”

The sound of Jonah’s nickname for you from his daughter's lips shatters something in your heart, and you feel your lip quiver and eyes burn. “I’m so sorry…”

She takes a step forward, speaking softer to you than you ever heard before. “What on earth are you apologizing for…”

“It’s my fault! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You shout, and Ben places himself between you and Iris protectively, trying to usher you out of the room but you stay firm. “I should’ve seen the signs! I shouldn’t have been sneaking out of my room! I shouldn’t have gone unguarded!” Rey are vaguely aware of Rey behind Iris, of Francisco and Ben trying to talk to you but you couldn’t pay attention to that. The moment existed between two women whose fathers couldn’t be what they wanted, in whatever way that meant. Two women who were left abandoned. Two women who understood each other in a way the others couldn’t, no matter how much love was there. “I ruin everything I touch!” Sobbing, you shout ‘I’m sorry’ again and again and again.

Your knees buckle, and you hear Francisco shout your name as arms wrap around you, saving you and your baby from a fall. Then, Iris is knelt in front of you, hands on either side of your head and pulling you to look at her. Her voice is firm, steady and sure as it always is but an air of empathy that didn’t exist before. You understood each other now. When you eyes meet hers, eyes like a sturdy oak and just as unwavering, she spoke her words repeatedly. 

“It’s not your fault. None of this is.”

And suddenly, her voice mattered than Santiago’s.

*

“It’s okay to miss him.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Madonna-” Francisco’s hand reached for you, but you jolted back and away from him with wide eyes. “Sorry… Can I tuck you in?”

You scoot into bed. “Just… don’t touch me…”

He nods as you lay down, pulling the blanket over you and laying it nicely around you, careful not to touch your body or pull anything against your skin. 

“Do you… do you want to be alone?”

He watches you think for a minute. You’d been through a lot, Jonah’s attack leaving you… not yourself. Usually when things happened; the burning, the shooting, etc, you craved closeness from your husbands, but after this… You were so far from him, all the time.

“I… I don’t want to have sex, is that okay?”

His heart crumbles at your question, quickly sitting on the bed but far enough not to scare you. “Oh my god, Madonna… that’s always okay…and I would never, ever expect that from you after something like this…” Still, you  didn’t meet his eyes… just silently crying as you had been all day. He watched a tear drip over the bridge of your nose while you lay on your side. He sighs. “When Beatriz first… when she first touched me, I felt sick, honestly. She said it was a divine union or whatever… but she was my mom. To me, anyway. I didn’t… I didn’t want that to happen.

“The she died and I thought… you know I thought I’d be relieved. God knows I’ve thought about it enough… But I didn’t. I cried for weeks,  felt lost, directionless… there was nowhere to put my anger, my sadness…” That’s when he fell into Ben. “There was… I guess I remember being confused. I didn’t understand how someone I loved could hurt me… and why I still loved someone who could do that…”

You choke back a sob, and when he sees your hand reach out, smooth and soft compared to the other, he takes it. “I don’t understand why Jonah would do that to me… But… I’m also angry at him… not for…” You swallow hard. “but for leaving me. Jonah always knew what to do, what to say… he helped me figure this whole thing out… I feel violated but… also abandoned… If he had stopped, I never would have told anyone.” Shame swallows you as you get more and more intimate. “I don’t think I would have told anyone if he was successful, Francisco. If he didn’t start punching the wall, I wouldn’t have screamed! I such a fucking idiot! I just didn’t want him to die!”

Resisting the urge to hold you is difficult, knowing you have to be the one to make that move. You have to be the one to express it… Still, he lies down beside you. “Madonna, you lost your dad at a young age and you spent 10 years alone with no friends, no family, no love… It makes sense why you’d want to cling to any connection you have. He took care of you, you didn’t want to let go of feeling loved. Lord knows I’ve forgiven worse for the same.”

You turn into him, your face settling on your chest as you cried yourself to sleep.

His heart ached for you, panges pulsing through his body and he clung to you, holding you steady so you could let go. He would be your rock. He would pull it together, be the man you and his baby needed…

You were so precious when you slept, your body trusting him to keep you safe,to keep you wrapped up in love and adoration. He felt so, so horrible for what happened to you, that you were hurt so badly by someone you trusted… He was probably as shocked as you were when he found out why Will was beating Jonah bloody and why you were catatonic on the floor. Jonah, of all fucking people knew what it was like to have your body violated… It angered Frankie in a way he rarely felt.

Usually his emotions were pushed down, shoved away so he could be whatever Santi needed him to be. A stress toy, a cock, a hole, an emotional sounding board. His needs and wants didn’t matter much more than they did with Beatriz, but at least Santi was protective of him, showed affection without needing reward. Still, Frankie couldn’t be himself, so often… but today, as his sleeping girl breathed heavily on his chest, her face still on shirt in a pool of her tears, he let himself feel. He’d be better for her, he’d do better. He’d stay and protect-

The door opens. “Santi wants you.”

*

When you wake with Ben next to you, you’re heart sinks. Not because of Ben, no, never. He was a sweetheart, your sunshine, your joy. Seconds later, his sweet sleeping face makes you smile. You like the floppy chunk of dirty blonde hair that always tickles his face when he sleeps. No, you’re sad because you miss Francisco. Nightmares woke you up again, but Ben was out like a light. It was warm in the bed, Ben always ran hot and you felt like you were melting, even in your nighty. You always chose this one no, it was flouncy enough to allow room for your belly but the material didn’t irritate your burns that were still recovering. 

You think of how many members of Delta saw you naked, the scars and wondered if Santiago wanted you humiliated or not. You wonder if he knew what Divine Mother did to Francisco… Your mind reeled with questions, like what this meant for you. If the God you worshiped so clearly abused your beautiful husband, could she truly be good? You couldn’t imagine kneeling to say your prayers now, knowing she made him feel the way Jonah did to you. And then you realize you can’t stomach kneeling to Santiago either.

It’s too hot. It’s too muggy. The sheet felt wrong and you needed to get out of this room.

When the door opens, you expect to find Reyansh sleeping, but his eyes were open this time. He wore a small, sleepy smirk on his face. “Somehow, I knew you’d still find a reason to sneak out.” He had a busted open lip.

You smile back, quietly closing the door behind you. Really, you knew after Jonah you shouldn’t be around men who aren’t your husbands in skimpy nightgowns but… it was Rey. You trusted him and yeah, you trusted Jonah too but… If Rey betrayed you, there was nothing left to trust.

He stands, letting you sit in his chair and he takes a seat up against the wall next to you, despite your protests.

“Rey? Do you… pray?”

He gives a soft chuckle, resting his head on the chair. “No, I don’t. Call me a heathen. Or a heretic. Or a blasphemer? I’m not entirely sure the difference.”

“I don’t know either, honestly. I just… I’m starting to think Divine Mother wasn’t… good.”

Rey lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank fucking god, girl. No, she wasn’t.” He looks up at you, those big brown eyes framed by the curls falling around his face. He was beautiful, truly. Shame he wasn’t a god, he’d be a good one. “Beatriz Garcia is a piece of shit who sexually abused multiple young men- boys, really. She had hundred of people put to death, and she is not God, none of this is real, she’s a crazy woman who-”

“Wait.” You shake your head, frowning hard. “No, of course she’s a god. How else would Santiago, Francisco, Ben and Will be gods?”

The light in his eyes fades, and he looks sad. “Sorry, sorry. RIght. Why don’t… why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking…”

You’re curious about his reaction, but too tired to think on it further. You settle into your chair more. “I’m thinking if she’s not a good god, maybe she’s a bad one? Or a demon? I don’t know… I don’t really have anyone to talk theology with…”

Reyansh pats your leg. “You’ll figure it out, I trust you. You’re smarter than they give you credit for. You know that, right? That you’re more than just a womb?”

You laugh a little. “Well, yeah, but that's not really important, is it? My job isn’t to be smart, it’s to have the savior.”

He sighs. “You’re so much more… and yes, that is important. Just know, you matter after you give birth, okay?”

“Rey, I-”

“Just say it, please?” He sounded desperate, so much more serious than you knew him. Your eyes droop closed.

“Okay. I matter after I give birth. I know that.”

“Good. And I’m gonna be here for you, always.”

“I know.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll watch out for us.”

*

When Ben woke up, he was worried when he didn’t see you in the bed. Santi had sent him to go get Frankie, but not before filling his ass with cum, ensuring Ben couldn’t have a quickie with Frankie. Did he know? Did he know Ben was fucking he most favored lover? Everyone with eyes knew Santi loved Frankie more than anything on this planet, only Madonna was too stupid to figure it out. He liked her that way, though. 

Ben loved Frankie with a burning passion. It was an ache that was never satiated unless they were skin to skin, unless he was buried inside him or fingers interlaced with his. No one compared to Frankie, no one made him smile, no one made him laugh, no one eased that pain buried inside him that blinded his rationale like Frankie did. Frankie knew him in a way no one could.

When he was brought to the mansion, Ben remembered two things. Will’s arms refusing to let go until Beatriz insisted, and Frankie, watching from a corner. He was so quite that day, but the way he hovered… the way he watched with curious eyes wherever they were taken, sometimes whispering to Santi. Ben had no idea these two would become closer to him than his own brother. The chill of the winter he almost froze to death in rattles in his bones to this day. Maybe that’s why his body over-compensates, why the sun bows to him. Maybe it’s his anger at the sun for hiding as the winter nearly took his life, took his family’s. 

Years later, another storm would leave a child orphaned, a little baby girl. She’d be found huddled up in her parents arms as they froze to death, the last of their body heat sustaining the child until Jonah and Marcus found her. Instead of taking her to the mansion, she was brought to Marcus. Ben wondered what might have happened if she’d been brought there like he was.

Will never relinquished his grip on him, not for the next multiple decades. At first, it was endearing, the protective nature… but then it became grating, an irritant. Will prevented him from exploring his true self, his power, the things he could do… Beatriz said he was jealous, that Will liked having Ben to take care of, to control, tha the shift in the dynamic would make him try to hold on tighter and she was right. When Ben insisted he was ready to participate in the orgies, Will tried to stop him, argued with Beatriz about it and tried to get Jonah to intervene. Jonah tried, but who gave a shit what he had to say? He was a consort at best. WIll never let Ben do anything fun, anything enriching, always tried to keep him out of the activities of the other gods. He was selfish.

When he realized Madonna was not in her bathroom, he stood up quickly to find her. Francisco had been summoned by Santi, making Ben in charge of Madonna and if something happened to her, he was taking a beating for sure. Santi has Beatriz's temper, although Ben never received that end from either of them. He was as loyal as they came, did exactly as both wanted… save for his affair with Frankie.

But then Ben opened the door and he found you, asleep on the chair… with that shithead guard sleeping with his head resting on your leg.

I loved the reactions to the last chapter LMFAOOOOO everyone feeling v betrayed by jonah ;-;

AS YOU SHOULD

milder chapter, more world building focused than anything tbh learning more about ben and frankie, how will and ben came to be in beatriz's "care" if you call it that.

Thank you all for the continued support! we are getting close to the end! Ima try and finish either If You wanna Be wild (javi p x reader/oc x santi) next chapter or he finale for blessed be the fruit (joel x reader) then 4 or maybe 5 chapters. depends. the last chapters seems like a lot to squeeze in there. ANYWAY

Save the children (which has absolutely nothing to do with QAnon who hijacked their hashtag) our currently supporting relief efforts in the Congo above our listed some quick facts that I hope you’ll take a moment to read, and if you can afford it, please consider making a donation. I have made a small one, but if we band together small donations make a difference

LOVE YOU ALL!

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