#i contemplated turning reblogs off even

[rielzero]

you oc meme templates made me draw my ocs for the first time in years so thank you 🙏

Dhshjahrjskdhfkskfj

I've been going through a lot of emotions the past few days because I never expected the template post to get reblogged so much and so rapidly out of nowhere. I have NEVER BEFORE gotten this much attention or follows at once.

I've been reading people's cute little comments in the tags and their excitement. I've seen the tags of some people who used some of the templates.

I don't remember when I made them, 2021 or 2022? Last year? I originally posted them on twitter before I left and was happy when a small amount of artists were excitedly posting the god meme specificly, the majority of my prompts were ignored beyond that one.

And then.. there's 1000s of people commenting stuff like this, saying they like all the prompts, telling me thank you. And they're drawing, and sharing, and tagging their friends who end up tagging their friends.

Meanwhile, I'm having a small mental breakdown because every minute, my inbox is full of 99+ notifications and unsure how to feel about the attention.. but that's never been the point of me sharing the templates..

People are using them!! 🥺 people are having fun with them.

Keep drawing. Please. Never stop having fun drawing your ocs. Do it for you. Thank you so much for sharing your experience. I'm so fucking happy for you! This made me cry 😭 thank you for your message!!

I should use my own templates sometime, too. If I can find the time.

[nightmare-niko]

F*cked My Way Up To The Top [Father Charlie Mayhew x reader]

pt.1

Prompts: 2/6/8

Word count: 1457

Warnings: oral! fem receiving, dom! Ish reader— this ones actually kinda just cute lol

A/n: this one was requested but i changed one of the prompts a tiny bit to fit the scheme better! i hope yall still like it tho hehe :3 and also lets pretend that the whip cuts on his back aren't fresh !!! for Y/ns sheets sake...

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

The last time you visited Church, you forgot to leave your number. You were too busy trying to sneak out to your car with no one seeing the priest's cum running down your bare (but marked) legs. Charlie had offered for you to stay the night, but you'd rather die than do the walk of shame out of a church in the daylight. When you found out you had a rare three-day weekend you began your planning. It would be unfair for you to show up and cause chaos on a Sunday... again, which is why you chose to dress your best and show up to church on a Monday.

When you strolled into the church, Father Charlie was deep in a conversation with someone you honestly couldn't get less of a shit about. Taking a seat near the back, you watch as Charlie's eyes rake over your form. You shamelessly stare as he gets visibly more and more nervous under your hungry gaze. What power you had over him, it was pathetic on his part. You loved it. The minutes ticked by agonizingly as you watched him. Nothing about the look in his eyes told you he gave a single shit about the person before him. It was honestly extremely amusing.

It wasn't long before he was making his way over to you. "Y/N, I'm surprised to see you back." He slips into the space beside you. Your head reels as his cologne invades your senses.

"I was just so touched by last week's service I had to pay another visit.” You gesture down to your slightly more church-appropriate outfit, "I even dressed modestly.

He hums, eyes darting right to your stocking-covered thighs and pencil skirt, “Are we sure...”

You follow his eyes and flush, “It's not my fault it's cold in here..." You defend.

He laughs quietly, "That's true.” He pauses for a moment before leaning closer. "You think I don't know why you’re here?" His breath is hot against your face.

"You think I don't know you’re itching to get your hands on me?" You’re quick with your response, it shocks him. "You started fidgeting like a schoolboy the moment I walked in.”

You watch as the blood rushes to Charlie’s face, painting the tips of his ears pink. He clears his throat, "Well then, what's your plan?"

"Well, my car is parked out back. So, either we sneak out and go to mine...” you pause in faux contemplation, “or we could risk everyone in this church, hearing us fucking in your office.”

The man before you gasps, you fight to contain your amusement. You try to get up, but he stops you. “What if someone sees?"

"We've been friends since high school, Father. This whole town knows we know each other."

The worry in his brow doesn’t budge, you sigh- “Look, maybe this was a mistake, we can just forget—“ "No- No it—“ he cuts you off, “Well maybe it is but I don’t care. I will repent later, go wait and I'll be out in a few minutes.”

oh god not again

"I won't leave you for thirty minutes again, I promise,” He reassures.

•

You’re 100% sure you blacked out because now you were pulling into your driveway with Charlie in your passenger seat. “Aren’t I just such a gentleman?” You tease.

“Yeah? In what way?” His voice matches your playful tone.

"I drove you to my house before— ya know...” you put the car in park.

“No, I don't know, before what?"

"Before fucking your brains out." You shrug nonchalantly as you pull the key out of the ignition.

“Is that what I did? Fucked your brains out?"

"Yup!" You open your car door, stepping one foot out before turning back to him. "And that's what I'm gonna do to you so— c'mon!”

You skip towards your front door with Charlie right on your trail. It's been a while since you had a man in your house, your body vibrates with anticipation as you unlock your front door.

"You know, one of these days you should let me take you to lunch or something.”

"We'll See," You shrug, shrugging off your jacket. "Behave for me today and I'll let you do whatever you want.” You turn to him, pressing your chest against him, and his hands immediately find their place on your hips.

"I think I like the sound of that~" Charlie leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. You revel in the taste of his lips on yours. You didn't know what it was— but something about Charlie was so intoxicating. He was tall, much taller than you— and as your torso pressed against his, you realized he was hard in his slacks. "That's," he groans, pressing his visible bulge into your stomach, "that, darling, is what you do to me."

You hum and take him by the hand to lead him through your house and into your bedroom. He looked good-- When did he not look good? Wasting no time you bring Charlie's face back to yours for another searing kiss.

Charlie's hands greedily pull your neatly tucked blouse out from your skirt. You help him lift it over your head, the chill of the room sending goosebumps up your arms. You quickly pull your skirt and tights down, leaving you in just your white ruffle socks and underwear. Charlie quickly mirrors your actions, ridding himself of his shirt and pants quicker than you had expected— damn he was hot.

Your padded feet patter across the hardwood as you make your way onto your bed. You beckon Charlie over to you with your finger. His strong body towers over you as your back collides with the headboard behind you. His finger trails down the side of your neck, the marks he had left last week were mostly faded— that was no good. His lips greedily work to leave more love bites, you whine.

Raking your manicured nails down his toned chest, he groans against your skin, “fuck.” he sits up to get a better look at you under him, “Let me taste you, baby, please?”

You bring your foot up to his chest, pushing gently to get him on his back, "Beg. Maybe I'll consider." You seductively crawl over to him, sitting on his clothed cock. He revels from underneath you, his hands squeezing at your thighs and ass. You kiss all over his torso as he struggles to form a coherent thought— drunk on you.

“Please— Baby please, I need to taste you.” He slurs, “Sit on my face— suffocate me I don't care. I'll die a happy man.”

You giggle against his skin, nipping at him with your teeth playfully. “How did you know flattery works on me~”

“Lucky guess,” he chuckles.

Charlie desperately paws at you wordlessly pleading for you to end his suffering. You comply— removing your underwear. The moment your dripping cunt was close enough his lips were latched onto you. Kissing licking and biting at you like a starved man, he curses against you again.

The grip on your thighs is almost painful, you are certain he would leave crescent moons on them. You loved it. You rut against his nose as his tongue prods at your hole— you moan theatrically, folding over as the pleasure shoots through your whole body. Charlie sloppily laps at your folds until your legs begin to shake.

Your orgasm takes you by complete and utter surprise. Your vision goes white as Charlie licks up everything gratefully.

“fuck!” you pant, removing yourself from above him to slump onto your mattress. Charlie lay there panting— his face and chest kissed in a deep blush. Your eyes trail down his torso and to his boxers, the grey material soiled with a dark spot. You gasp, “did you?”

“yes,” he shamefully admits, hiding his face behind his arms

“Hey hey no it's okay!” you quickly reassure him. You try to pry his arms away from his face. “C'mon lemme see you, baby.”

“I’m embarrassed,” he mumbles.

You laugh lightly, kissing his arms in an attempt to lower his guard. “That was like the hottest thing I've ever experienced.”

“Really?” he peaks out at you.

“uh— are you kidding??” you exclaim, he fully puts down his arm and you leave a peck on his lips. “stay? Just for a little?”

He smiles tiredly, “You're gonna have a hard time getting me to leave.”

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya @lilybellalana

@sleepysongbirdsings @magicalcowboyarbiter

@tadpoleteef @nicholasalexanderchavezdimes

[lowkeyren]

—where hope begins with you!

in which : dan heng was never one to look forward to things. that is, until you entered his life and taught him how to hope once more.

pairing : dan heng x gn!reader

wc 1.3k, so much fluff it's sickening, bro is not nonchalant™, you killed his tough guy personality here, art by @/SP0I0ppp on x. reblogs n comments r much appreciated!!! 

Dan Heng had never been one to anticipate things. Life had taught him not to —his past was filled with moments where people came and went, and life had a way of reminding him how fleeting those things could be. Though it wasn’t that he didn’t care about the future, it was just simpler to deal with what was in front of him. 

So, he stopped expecting. Learning to take each day as it came, to live by the moment, anchored only by the need to keep moving forward, away from his past. 

That was, until you came along.

The steady hum of the train is a sound familiar to Dan Heng, but lately, his mind has been occupied with thoughts that even the constant, low thrum cannot easily calm.

It’s strange how easily you came into his life, like a gentle breeze slipping through the cracks of a fortress. Even with his walls firmly in place, you never pushed his boundaries; instead, you moved around them with a gentle finesse that made him feel surprisingly at ease.

Your influence was undeniable, it awakened a sense of curiosity within him, a yearning to experience the world in ways he had long forgotten. And before he knew it, he found himself looking forward to things he never thought he would.

He looks forward to the way you say his name.

“Dan Heng—” It’s a soft murmur that rolls off your tongue like honey, lingering in the air and wrapping around him in a warm embrace. 

“Dan Heng?” It’s the look in your eyes when those syllables escape your lips, a spark that sets his heart racing in a way he can’t ignore. The slight tilt of your head makes you look impossibly tender, paired with your soft gaze —it only peels away his defenses without you ever trying.

“Dan Heng!” It’s that sound, that singular way you say his name, that fills the quiet corners of his heart he didn’t even know were waiting for you.  “Hello…?” He blinks, eyes darting back to you as you wave your hands in front of his face.

He coughs awkwardly into his fist, a feeble attempt to mask his embarrassment as he becomes acutely aware of how lost in thought he had been. A slight flush creeps onto his cheeks —oh god, he had been staring at you… without even realising it.

“Ahem, sorry about that,” he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoids your gaze. “I got a bit... distracted.” His heart races as he glances back at you, “What were you saying?”

You chuckle softly at his flustered reaction. “I was just wondering if you’d like to join me for lunch,” you say, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “I thought we could finally check out that new place March has been raving about.”

“Of course.” His reply comes out too quickly, a rush of eagerness that catches even him off guard. “Great!” your excitement evident as corners of your mouth lift into a grin,  “I can’t wait, Dan Heng! Let’s go t—”

Oh… if only you knew; there’s a part of him that comes alive every time he hears his name on your lips.

He looks forward to the quiet moments you share in his room.

You sit across from Dan Heng, leaning against the bookshelf, with the gentle glow of the overhead lights casting soft shadows across your face. He’s attuned to every subtle change in your expression, every little crease of your brow when the narrative of the book in your hands takes an unexpected turn.

(Your expression is telling a story he’s far more interested in.)

Neither of you speaks; content to simply bask in the comfort of each other's presence.The air is tranquil, punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional sigh of contemplation. 

There's an undeniable intimacy in the shared silence, where nothing needs to be said for everything to be understood. Dan Heng also thinks you’re quite… mesmerising in moments like these. Perhaps there's something about the way your eyes skim the page, the way you bite your lip in anticipation, the way you turn to him with a gentle smile—

Ah… he’s staring again, and this time you’ve caught him in the act.

You catch his gaze and raise an eyebrow; your playful smirk deepens, a silent challenge lingering in the air as you maintain eye contact —and the corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s holding back a smile too.

The book resting in your lap is momentarily forgotten, the words on the page fading into oblivion. His eyes linger on you, studying every nuance of your expression, every flicker of light that dances in your gaze.

Even in silence, you manage to hold his attention effortlessly, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. 

And for now, that’s enough to fill the space with something profoundly meaningful.

He looks forward to the tomorrows you share.

“I had fun today, thank you, Dan Heng.” 

“Me too,” he stumbles out. A slight pause follows before his gaze shifts to avoid yours. “I mean, I had fun too.”

For a brief moment, he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating, how it stumbles, quickens —each beat louder than the last. The pulse of it seems to echo in the space between you, an unspoken language you’ve become quite fluent in.

Just then, you lean forward slightly, placing your elbow on the table as you rest your chin on your hand. “You know,” you say, your tone laced with a teasing lilt, “If you keep getting all flustered like this, I might just think you’re really into me.”

His breath catches in his throat, and his cheeks flare with a heat that rivals the sun.

Your laughter dances in the air, and it sends a jolt of exhilaration through him. “Relax! I’m just ki—” 

“No.”

His pulse quickens, and he can’t help but fidget in his seat. “You’re right. I’m into you.” His chest tightens as your eyes meet; for once, you’re the one blushing, a rosy hue creeping up your cheeks as surprise flickers across your face. 

You blink, momentarily taken aback. “You… mean that?”

He swallows hard, “I do, I really like you, [name].”

You’re barely trying to contain the smile spreading across your lips. “I’m glad you said it,” you continue, your voice softening. “Because I really like you too, Dan Heng.”

His heart soars, and a breath he didn’t realise he was holding escapes his lips in a rush. “How can I not when you’re so cute?” You reach out to pinch his cheeks, and surprisingly, he lets you have your way. 

“I’m not cute,” he mumbles, but his voice lacks conviction, and the way you’re looking at him makes it impossible to stay composed.

You chuckle softly, as you let go of his face. “Anyway, it’s getting late,” you continue, glancing at the clock nearby. “Let’s talk more about this tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

He tells himself he's looking forward to tomorrow, but maybe, it's really just the promise in your words he's waiting for.

“See you tomorrow, then!” You call out as you make your way to the door. He watches you leave, the gentle sound of your footsteps echoing softly before fading into the distance. Once the door clicks shut behind you, Dan Heng glances at the clock again, counting the minutes until he can see you once more.

With a soft sigh, he leans back in his chair, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “See you tomorrow,” he whispers to the empty room.

And for the first time in ages, he allows himself to hope again.

chronic yapper disease

MASTERLIST.

[milfsloverblog]

Good Luck, Babe! (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: I know, I know. I’ve got series waiting for an update blah blah blah. But when something sparks your inspiration, you just got to get to work!! This one’s - obviously - inspired by the Chappell Roan song. This is full on ANGST, HURT NOT COMFORT, you’ve been warned! One shot, no second chapter to fix it all. We love the pain. Hope you’ll enjoy my darlings and don’t forget to like and reblog if you do!! <3

Larissa had been startled awake by a sudden loud noise, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the bedroom she shared with the banshee that slept next to her.

Not a literal one - although that might have been a better choice, Larissa thought as she turned her head towards the man she’d been sharing a bed with for over a decade and nearly two. Ha, there it was again. That loud snoring that kept her awake for nights on end. A banshee, that’s what he sounded like.

She sat up, carefully swinging her legs on the side of the bed and trying her best not to wake him up - somehow the snoring was still more bearable than his incessant yapping when he was awake.

Larissa took a deep breath, rubbing her hands on her face as she contemplated what to do with the rest of her night. She had a little over four hours left of sleep before her alarm would go off, signifying the beginning of her working day. She brushed her fingers through her silver hair, holding back a whine when some of it got stuck in her wedding ring.

Oh bitter irony, she thought as she pulled away to inspect the golden ring on her left hand.

The banshee snored again, pulling Larissa out of her thoughts and nearly making her consider squeezing a pillow on her husband’s face. Instead, she quietly got out of bed, throwing a silky robe on her silkier shoulders and tying it close as a shiver ran down her spine.

Things could have been so different.

As her hand brushed down the wooden handrails of the main stairs, Larissa couldn’t help but reminisce about her younger days. She thought of Nevermore when she was only a student there and not in charge of it. The Poe cup, the Rave’N, the feeling of soft hands on her skin. Larissa stopped dead in her tracks. She could have sworn that she had felt it, right there in the middle of the staircase, the ghost of soft hands on her midriff. She took a deep breath and hurried down the stairs on the tip of her toes, still not wanting to wake up the banshee that rested upstairs.

Turning the light on as she made her way to the kitchen, Larissa walked straight to the sink and knelt to access the cupboard below it. She didn’t even look at the bottles, grabbing the first one that met her hand and pulling it out of the cupboard. It would be a good one anyway, her darling husband always made sure of it. Grand wine, grand house (that she had been against buying), grand life, grand wife. The thought left a bitter taste in Larissa’s mouth and she hurried to open the bottle, eager to replace the bitterness of a wasted life with the bitter taste of an aged Chianti.

As she sipped on her freshly poured wine, Larissa’s mind transported her back to a night twenty years ago.

“They’ll catch us!” Larissa half-whispered as her hand squeezed yours.

“Everyone’s at the Rave’N, they won’t even notice we’re gone. Come on, even if they did, Nevermore’s brightest student and its biggest weirdo? No one would speculate that we’re together. They’ll think that you went to bed early, as a bright student should, and that I’m hiding in some dark corner all alone like a loser.” You joked, pushing the door to your room open.

“I’m not Nevermore’s brightest student, Morticia is,” Larissa said, her crimson-painted lips falling in a soft pout.

“Ha, so nothing about me not being a weirdo or a loser?” You feigned being hurt before letting out a chuckle. “Morticia doesn’t have half of your intelligence nor a quarter of your beauty. She’s got a big pair of tits, that’s all.” You shrugged, closing the door behind you.

Something churned inside Larissa’s stomach, the early stirrings of jealousy making her face grow hot at the mere thought of you finding Morticia somewhat attractive.

“Kiss me,” she demanded.

“Wait, I’ve got something-“You didn’t have time to finish your sentence as Larissa's lips crashed against yours, bruising and demanding.

Larissa opened her mouth and you quickly followed, allowing her to thrust her tongue against yours in a dance you two had been rehearsing for months. Her lips moved down your chin and up your jaw, leaving a trail of red marks that you’d have to scrub at in the morning.

“Riss-“ you whined when she nipped at the thin skin of your neck, gently pulling away from her. “Wait, wait-“

Larissa reluctantly let go of you, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb and clearing her throat.

“I want to take my time,” you explained. “We always do this so quickly, most of the time I can’t even get you fully naked. Let’s take our time, everyone will be busy downstairs for another couple of hours.”

Larissa pushed a small smile and nodded. She sat down on your bed and watched as you pulled something from underneath it.

“How on earth did you get that?!” She squealed, nearly ripping the green bottle from your hand.

“Borrowed it from the kitchen,” you shrugged.

“You know that borrowing means you’ll give it back at some point, right?” Larissa mumbled as she read the tag on the bottle.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll buy some cheap bottle from the supermarket downtown and put it back in the kitchen.”

Larissa let out a snorting laugh and shook her head.

“Do you even know how much this is worth?” She said, gesturing with the bottle in her hand.

“Now don’t be rude,” you raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one that comes from a rich family, not me.”

“Shut up and pour us a glass, if you have anything to open the bottle with!” Larissa pouted. You knew she hated being reminded that she came from money, but it simply was the truth.

“Who do you take me for, a rookie?” You huffed as you opened your bedside table only to pull out a bottle opener and wave it victoriously in Larissa’s face, making her laugh.

What happened next was a little blurry in Larissa’s mind. She remembered sharing the wine, drinking straight from the bottle as you laughed about everything and nothing. She remembered spilling wine on the awfully expensive gown her father had bought her for the Rave’N, and then soft hands helping her out of it. Her head between your thighs, yours between hers. She remembered falling asleep in your arms and waking up still in your arms the next morning. And that had been the breaking point for Larissa. Her parents would never agree to this, to her having this sort of feelings for women, for you. She had to nip this in the bud before it went too far. And so she did.

Larissa made sure to avoid you like the plague after that night, going as far as becoming friends with Morticia Frump and her clique even though she knew how much you disliked them. And then came Henry. He wasn’t Larissa’s type, obviously. But he would please her parents and so she let him court her until they officially became a thing. Then everything had gone so fast, her final year at Nevermore, the graduation, Henry proposing.

“Larissa!” You ran after her inside Nevermore after witnessing Henry’s proposal in the yard. What a dick move, proposing right after she had graduated. Nice way to steal her spotlight.

Larissa spun on her heels, fidgeting with the new ring that felt unfamiliar on her left hand.

“What do you want?” She sighed, trying her best to keep her eyes off of you.

“You can’t do that,” you said, shaking your head. “You can’t marry him, you don’t even love him! Larissa, please…”

“Please what?” Larissa snapped. “What did you think? That this fling we had would turn into more than it was? Don’t be ridiculous.”

You swallowed your pain, refusing to let your heart burst at the seam.

“When you wake up next to him in a decade or two,” you said, fighting against the lump in your throat. “And you’ll realise that you’re nothing more than his wife, you’ll think of me. You’ll think of everything we shared all of those years ago.“

It was Larissa’s turn to swallow thickly as she took in your words. Marrying him meant security, a normal life. But it also meant losing her freedom, Larissa knew that.

“Say something,” you pleaded, hoping that it would be enough for your ex-lover to change her mind.

“I’m sorry,” she simply replied, holding her head high as she always did in any situation - good or bad. “You knew this would come to an end.” She added before giving a small nod and walking past you, the sound of her kitten heels echoing down the corridor.

She hadn’t seen you since. You hadn’t replied to the wedding invite she had sent. She had hoped you’d show up, she’d hoped to prove to you that she had made the right choice. That she was happy in the life she had picked for herself. That she had moved on. But she hadn’t really moved on, had she? Drinking herself half-blind almost two decades after she’d last seen you. Maybe you had moved on. Surely you had.

When Larissa was pulled back to reality, to the empty kitchen and the emptier glass of wine in her hand, tears had started running down her cheeks which she hastily wiped away.

She had thought about reaching out more times than she would ever admit. But she never dared. Not when she had found your Facebook and you seemed so happy with that woman on your profile picture. She would never dare reach out to you for she knew that you would tell her what you always did whenever she had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

I told you so, Larissa. You know I hate to say it but I told you so.

And Larissa wished, she wished she had listened to you. She wished she could go back in time and she wished she could forget you.

But Larissa knew - she would have to stop the world to stop the feeling.

————————————————————————

taglist: @weemssapphic, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @dingdongthetail, @azu-zu, @gwensfz , @erablaise-blog , @rainbow-hedgehog , @renravens , @kaymariesworld , @niceminipotato , @agathaandgwenslesbian, @witchesmortuary , @notmeellaannyy , @gwenilover, @weemswife , @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 , @redkarine , @women-are-so-ethereal , @opheliauniverse , @willisnotmental , @raspburrythief , @vigelvictoria, @fictionalized-lesbian , @weems13 , @lynn1ebug, @ness029 , @geekyarmorel , @h-doodles , @cxndlelightx , @m1lflov3rrr , @winterfireblond , @nocteangelus15 , @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @spacetoaim22 @1-800-milfdilf @vendocrap8008 @opalthefrog @jkregal l @gela123 @lilfartbox1 @raya0jpg @xuukoo @bellatrixsbrat @sadsapphic-rose @dumbasslesbi @larissaoftarthweems @larissalover3 @friskyfisher @thesamesweetie @fliesinmymouth @imprincipalweemspet @forwhichidream11 @amateurwritescm @imlike-so-gaydude @sugipla @lvinhs @http-sam @franouo @mysteriouslysapphic @gweninred @a-queen-and-her-throne

[veltana]

Shared desires

✦ Pairing: Bucky/Fem!Reader, Steve/Fem!Reader, brief Bucky/Steve

✦ Word count: ~4,4k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Canon verse, Wife!Reader, Husband!Bucky, Best friend!Steve, cuckolding, degradation, praise, oral (fem receiving), spit sharing, manhandling, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, angst, hurt/comfort, feels, eventual polyamory, pet names (doll, honey).

✦ Note: NERVOUS! I've never written for an event before, but it gave me the push I needed to finally finish this! For @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar we have Chocolate (a secret revealed) together with Neopolitan (love triangle). Topped with Chocolate Syrup (established relationship) and one could argue a dash of Sprinkles (special event)(it sure is special for them 😂) As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️ Enjoy 😋

Masterlist | AO3

Steve’s mouth is hanging slightly open, cheeks red, and eyes wide. "Excuse me?" he sputters. "You're the only one I trust with this, if you don't feel comfortable I get it, but I thought I’d ask.” "But Buck…" Steve begins, momentarily lost for words, then says, "I don't want to cause a rift between you and your wife." "You wouldn't, we've talked it over so many times and honestly you're the only one she's okay with." "Me?" Bucky reaches over to place a hand on Steve's knee, squeezing it reassuringly. "You've been at our side since the beginning, she knows you, and knows you would never hurt us."

Then he leans back with a smirk. "And don't think I didn't see you looking at her last time we went out drinking." Steve flushes even more, looking away, mumbling, "Those pants should be illegal." Bucky laughs in response.

With a sigh, Steve looks at his best friend, his long lost brother, the person he went through hell to get back. If Bucky knew the truth he wouldn't be laughing. For a second Steve contemplates telling him but as he's done for years, he keeps his deepest secret inside and instead says. "Just let me think about it, okay? It doesn't mean it's a no but just… I need to think, okay?" "Take your time," Bucky reassures him.

***

Several hours later you're ordering take-out while waiting for Bucky to get home from the compound. You could cook but your body is jittery with nervous energy and it's hard to concentrate. Bucky asked Steve today and you have yet to learn how it went. Your husband could have texted you, but Bucky often forgets that texting exists.

When the key turns in the lock you can't keep your cool any longer. Running into the hallway just as Bucky kicks off his shoes you don't even pretend to be nonchalant about it. "Well?" you ask.

With a chuckle, Bucky envelopes you in a hug. To be in his arms is the best feeling in the world. Surrounded by his scent and his warmth, knowing you're safe and cared for. "He's going to think about it, didn't say no. He was just shocked." Pulling back you squeeze Bucky's waist. "I understand that. I was too when you first brought it up," you note.

Bucky starts backing you out of the hallway until your back meets a wall. "But now you can't stop thinking about it," his deep voice taunts, making you light up with desire. "Now you want to get fucked while I watch and get humiliated.” The sound coming from your throat makes it impossible for you to deny it.

***

A few weeks later, you’re sitting beside Bucky, across from Steve in your living room. The guys have beers and you have a glass of wine. Steve's cheeks have been pink since he stepped through the door and looked at you. "I understand if you think it's a little… odd," you say to him. "And even if you say yes now, you can always change your mind later."

Steve nods and takes a swing from the bottle. He's not going to get drunk but it eases the nerves. "So, I'll fuck you while Bucky watches?" "Yeah," you nod. Steve puts the bottle down, dragging a hand over his face. "God, I'm going to be honest, I'm scared it's going to fuck up our friendship Buck. What if we do this and it's not what you imagined?" Bucky nods, but his answer is sure when he responds. "Then we'll stop. And there are no hard feelings. The same goes for you, even if we're right in the middle of it and it starts to feel wrong, just say the word and it stops right away."

Steve doesn’t look convinced. Honestly, you're just glad he wanted to come over and discuss it. A little idea forms in your head. You put down the wine. "How about a trial run?" you suggest. Both men turn to look at you but you only keep your attention on Steve. "If you're okay with it, I'll sit on your lap. If that feels alright we can share a kiss while Bucky watches and if it feels wrong it doesn't have to go any further."

Steve thinks for a moment, then agrees. A small groan comes from Bucky, just the thought of it makes him aroused. You kiss him on the cheek before standing up and slowly walking over to Steve. His eyes follow your every move but he doesn’t look scared.

When you straddle him, his hands immediately come to rest on your hips but then it's as if he realizes what he's done and stiffens. "It's okay," you encourage him. "You can touch me." He relaxes minimally and you settle down completely. "You can stop anytime," you remind him as you cup his bearded face. His tongue comes out and wets his plush lips, nodding.

You let your thumbs run along his cheeks, never breaking eye contact and the moment feels so intimate. You’re unsure what to expect, but your pulse picks up as he becomes more confident, moving his hands up and down your sides. A finger slips in under your sweater and brushes your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine and a pleased whimper comes out of your throat. That seems to encourage him and the light touches turn heavier.

Carefully you lean forward, giving Steve time to stop or to pull away. The hesitation on his face from earlier has fled and instead, you see a spark of eagerness. Pressing your lips softly against his, it takes a second for him to return it.

Turns out Steve Rogers is a great kisser. After sliding your lips together he quickly turns bolder, opening your mouth with his and finding your tongue to play with. His touches get greedier too. When both his hands shift in under your sweater to feel your naked skin you whimper again, longing for more of it. Without noticing you’ve started moving, seeking friction for the throbbing between your legs.

"Oh, fuck yes," you hear Bucky grunt behind you. That makes Steve break the kiss, you meet his wild eyes, pupils blown wide from lust.

"Your husband is getting off on you grinding in my lap, honey." You’ve never heard his voice so deep before. "He has his hand inside his pants, stroking his pathetic little dick while you do your best to hump me.” "Fuckfuckfuck," you hear from Bucky. With a whine you press down hard, feeling that Steve is just as affected as you. With difficulty, you stop yourself from going to the floor and beg to suck his dick. Instead, the both of you continue with the heated make-out session, your hands now heavy on Steve’s body, wishing you had his skin against yours.

The sounds coming from Bucky on the couch grow more urgent and it turns you on to know he's getting off to you making out with Steve. It feels wrong and so right at the same time. Steve nips your lower lip before kissing down your neck, saying, "I can't wait to fuck that sweet cunt of yours." Both you and Bucky moan. "Gonna give you a night you've never had before and make sure every time your husband fucks you all you can think about is my dick."

That makes Bucky lose it, a small shout declaring his climax. Steve and you slow down the tempo of your kissing until it's just soft, barely there caresses. Though the need is alight in your body, coherent thoughts start to tumble back in and after a few minutes, you pull back from him. His lips are swollen, and you feel a tinge of reproach for getting carried away with him. Cupping his face once more you ask, "How are you feeling?" He gives a dry laugh, "It's a mix of shame and horniness."

When you frown he grabs your hands to remove them from his face, squeezing them before letting go. "It's alright, it felt good while it was happening,” he reassures you, before asking over your shoulder. “How about you Buck?" "That's the hardest I've ever come from jerking off in my life I think." Both Steve and you laugh as you collapse against his chest. Immediately he starts caressing your back. You get a familiar feeling in your chest, one you usually only get when Bucky holds you.

"How about you, doll?" Bucky asks. "I liked knowing I was doing something to get you off at the same time as it was kind of "wrong"." A moment later you get off Steve, and sit down on the couch beside Bucky again. Somehow it feels weird to be away from him but you chalk it up to the sexual desire still prominent in your body.

“How about another meeting in a week or so? Get everyone to think it through another round and then we can decide on a date and location?” Bucky suggests. You nod and Steve does too.

***

On a Friday, after numerous more talks to plan the evening and all of you getting your STD tests back clean, it's finally time. The excitement is palpable in the hotel room you decide to stay in.

At Steve and Bucky’s request, you're wearing a very tight dress and the smallest pieces of underwear known to man.

Steve is sitting at the foot of the bed, white shirt tucked into black slacks like he's heading out to dinner, not about to fuck his best friend's wife. Bucky is in jeans and one of his henleys, placing an armchair at the side of the bed.

Even though you know what is about to happen, you feel nervous, but also excited to fulfill your husband's kink. When you take your place in front of Steve, meeting his hungry eyes, there is a buzz in your body making you bite your lip.

"Ready?" Bucky asks and you both nod. The moment Bucky sits down you climb onto Steve's lap. The smooth material of his slacks caresses your inner thighs as you settle. Immediately his hands land at your waists and starts stroking your sides, down to your ass, squeezing and pressing you just a little bit closer. Those blue eyes are a storm, filled with lust and need. Your face probably mirrors his and a second later your lips are pressed together.

Both of you moan and Steve fists the fabric of the dress, threatening to tear it to shreds. A soft groan is heard, and both of you smile into the kiss. Steve pulls away, making you pout, but he tsks at you. "Just be happy that I'm the one kissing you and not the shitty husband you have.”

Something in you wants to defend Bucky because he's not a shitty husband. He's amazing in every way! But you know that this is what he wants, it's part of the game. Bucky gets off on Steve's degradation. You can't deny him that.

Then he's kissing you again, heavier than earlier. Your hands grab his head, messing up the semi-styled hair, anchoring you to him. On their own accord, your hips roll against Steve's crotch, pulling moans from the both of you.

A second later he has you flipped onto your back, smiling down deviously as you stare at him in shock. But when he presses his clothed cock to your soaked panties the shock is forgotten. Pleasure engulfs every sense of your being.

"There you go honey, let me take care of you, let me make you feel better than your husband ever could." With a whine you jerk against him, trying to find relief for the ache in your cunt, but instead, he pulls away, taking your panties with him. Without looking he throws them Bucky's way and another groan comes from him when he feels how wet they are. Steve gets off the bed and starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Show your husband, honey. Show him how fucking wet you are for me."

With a whimper, you spread your legs. The air feels cool against your heated flesh. You don't dare to look at Bucky but understand he sees what Steve wants him to when a broken moan can be heard through the room.

"Touch yourself," Steve commands, and with shaking fingers you find your entrance, letting one sink it into yourself, wondering if you've ever been this wet before.

Slowly you move it, all while watching Steve get undressed. He's in no hurry. With a thick voice, he says, "One more, but don't you dare come."

With stuttered breath push another finger in. The sound that fills the room is obscene but leaves no doubt about how horny you are. When Steve is down to his underwear he pulls the fingers from you, sucking them into his mouth, groaning at the taste. After licking them clean he releases them with a pop and smirks at you. Then he turns to Bucky and it's the first time you get a good look at him.

His hands are gripping the arms of the chair in a death grip, you're surprised his vibranium hand hasn't done more damage. He's taken off his henley and his cock is out, hard and leaking onto his abdomen. Glassy eyes follow Steve's movements. The blond grabs Bucky's face, forcing his mouth open and tilting his head back. Immediately Bucky sticks out his tongue and from above Steve lets his spit run down into Bucky's mouth.

Bucky's dick twitches and leaks more. "That's the only fucking taste you'll have of your wife tonight. Say thank you." Steve rumbles. As soon as Bucky has swallowed down the mix of your slick and Steve's spit he says "Thank you," in a voice hoarser than you've ever heard before.

Steve comes back to you, pulling your dress off and stepping out of his underwear before settling on the bed and pressing your legs up against your stomach. "Now I'm going to get a proper taste of that sweet cunt," he grins.

"Steve!" you cry and your hands immediately find his hair as he dives in. His tongue travels from your opening to your clit, over and over again, soaking you in his spit until you feel it running down your ass. He sucks and licks, alternating pressure, and speed to make sure you're never quite getting enough to make you come but to keep you constantly on edge. The moment he sinks two fingers into you, you arch off the bed and a high-pitched wail leaves your mouth.

You're at the brink of shattering. The current of the climax is cursing through your body. Incoherent babbling fills the room as you try to urge Steve to take pity on you. Luckily for you, he does and concentrates the movements of his tongue to your clit, as his fingers press against your G-spot. A surge of heat fills your core, making it almost unbearable before it takes you and you come with a shout.

Steve works you through it until you're twitching from oversensitivity, pressing on his forehead to get him to stop. "Almost pushed my fingers right out with that," he muses, twisting them, pumping slowly. "Bet your husband has never made you come so hard."

A groan from Bucky accompanies your whimper. "Now tell me what you need honey." "I need you inside me!" "But my fingers are already inside," Steve makes a point by pressing the two fingers inside against your G-spot, making you lose your train of thought for a second.

"I- I mean…" you try. "Yes?" "More, I need more." "Just say the words." "I need your cock inside me, Steve, please!"

Seconds after his fingers have left you, he flips you onto your stomach, then puts you on your hands and knees right at the edge of the bed, at an angle where Bucky can see you. You're trembling with anticipation of what's coming.

Steve caresses your ass and legs, lightly dragging his fingers over your swollen clit and soaked center. "I can't believe this pretty fucking cunt is wasted on your husband." "Please, Steve!" "I bet you're never this wet for him" "No!" "You want me to fuck your sweet cunt, honey?" "Yes!" "Make it drip with my cum?" "Please!" "Should I knock you up, right here in front of your husband?" "Fuck me! Please!" As you feel the warm head against your cunt your arms collapse, your cheek resting against the bed.

"I love it when you beg for me," his strained voice is deep as he pushes inside. Moans, whimpers, and wails fall from your lips once he starts moving. He's big, just like Bucky, and you love to feel so full. You push back as he thrusts forward, the sound of skin against skin filling the room.

Suddenly there is a hand on your neck, making you turn your head until you see Bucky at the edge of your vision. "Tell your husband how my cock feels!" Steve demands. "Ah! Bucky! It feels so good!"

Bucky is still not touching his cock, his mouth is slightly open, his whole face red as he watches you. "Yeah, doll, you like it?" "I do! I do!" "Is he big?" "Yes! I feel so full!" That makes Steve laugh. "All she wants is a big dick and all she got was you," Steve tells Bucky.

Bucky is about to burst with those words and the armchair creeks in his grip. Then Steve turns your head again so you can't see him anymore. Instead, you're focused on how he's fucking you rough and deep. "You're gripping me so tight honey, it's like you don't want to let me go." You answer with a strangled moan. "Yeah, you're too full of cock to talk, just be a good little wife and take what I give you."

And you do, body going almost boneless as Steve fucks you. Carefully another orgasm starts to build in your lower stomach, and soon it has you wiggling and whining, needing release.

Steve's hand finds your aching clit. "That's it," he groans. "I need you to come on my cock before I fill you up with my cum. Make sure you tell your husband whose dick it is you're coming on, honey. I want it seared into his mind. Every time he fucks you from now on all he's going to remember is how loud you screamed my name." Nodding helplessly you do as he says and as the dam breaks and pleasure rushes through you, you wail Steve's name.

A moment later the telltale sign of Steve's orgasm floods you and he groans your name. For a moment his hips are plastered to you, keeping everything inside. Then he pulls out and the cum runs down your legs. When he lets go of your hips you don't have the strength to keep yourself up anymore. Falling to the side you watch Steve walk over to Bucky, pulling him up and pushing him towards you. "Go fuck my cum back into your wife."

Bucky all but scrambles over to you, ridding himself of his pants in the process before carefully turning you over onto your back and sinking into you. You wrap your arms and legs around him, your lips finding his in a familiar dance.

"I won't last, doll," he confesses. "Don't need you to," you promise with a smile. A second later Bucky’s hips stutter, his orgasm causing him to cry out against your shoulder. It lasts longer than usual and brings a wide smile to your lips, knowing Bucky's fantasy is fulfilled.

When he's done he collapses on top of you, his weight heavy but welcoming, making you feel safe and loved. A moment later you look over at the armchair, expecting to find Steve, but he’s not there. His clothes are gone too and then you hear the door to the hotel room shut.

***

The anxiety in Bucky's chest grows for every dial tone that sounds and Steve doesn't pick up. The whole weekend he’s tried to get a hold of him but he hasn't answered his phone or been seen at the compound. Bucky sent hundreds of texts, all being delivered but none replied to. There is a hole in his chest where his best friend used to live and it feels like he's getting a glimpse into how it was for Steve to find him and lose him over and over again.

Bucky wanders into the exhibition, eyes searching for Steve. This is the last place on his list of where he could be. After this, he's out of ideas. Then Steve might as well have gone to outer space and Bucky shudders at the thought of searching aimlessly through the galaxies for him. But he would do it.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots a familiar back. As Bucky steps up beside him, Steve’s shoulders go stiff. "You left," Bucky states. "I know," Steve responds, looking down.

"Why? We agreed to talk afterward to make sure everyone was feeling okay. It's called aftercare for a reason." "I don't know, just seeing the two of you. You love each other so much." "We do. But we love you too."

Steve huffs at that and Bucky's eyebrows draw together. "Am I going to have to beat it out of you, punk?" "Maybe this conversation is better somewhere else," Steve suggests, glancing around. "How about we go to our place? She's worried sick about you." Steve nods and together they leave the museum.

***

You’re going to wear a hole into the floor with your endless pacing. Over and over again you replay the moments after hearing the door shut. The look on Bucky’s face. The scramble to find clothes and run after Steve. Not finding him anywhere. Both of you frantically calling him over and over again.

Then you hear Bucky's truck. And a motorcycle. Your bare feet start running before you know it and you fling the door open to see Steve get off his bike. A heartbeat later you're running across the lawn. He sees you and he’s confused, but when you jump into his arms he catches you without hesitation.

You want to scream and beat him but instead, you cling to him. Bucky says something but you can't hear it and then you feel Steve start heading towards the house.

"Doll, you have to let go," Bucky's soft voice says as Steve sits on the couch. In response, you shake your head like a petulant child. "Yes, you do, come on," It's a little sterner now. "Honey, I'm not disappearing again. I promise." Only then do you slide to the side so you're sitting next to Steve, Bucky on the other side of him.

"We're very sorry we got you into this Steve," Bucky begins right away. "It was supposed to be a fun night for all of us." Finding Steve’s hand you squeeze it to let him know you agree with what Bucky's saying. "We never wanted to hurt you," you whisper.

There is a long beat of silence and you're about to speak again but Steve says, "It's my fault that I wasn't honest with the two of you." His eyes are downcast and he brings your hand into his lap, then grabs Bucky's too. "I should have said something earlier but I was scared."

"Of what Stevie?" you ask softly. "We want you to be happy, you can tell us anything." Steve snorts, weaving all your fingers together. "Scared to tell my best friend and his lovely wife that I care for them more than I should. That when I can't sleep, I wish I could feel their warm bodies beside me. That every time I see them kiss, smile, and be utterly happy together I'm both jealous and delighted. I want the two of you to have a good life. But I also want to be a part of that life, more than just as a friend."

The confession knocks the air from your lungs and you share a look with Bucky. He speaks first. "Steve, I had no idea." "That's kind of the point." "And when I suggested that you join us…" Bucky trails off. "I saw it as the only opportunity to be with the two of you, even if it was just for one night." "And when we were done…" You try to think of it from Steve's perspective. "The way you love each other is so evident. I'll never be able to fit into that. Everything just felt wrong and that I was an intruder. So I left. I know I shouldn't have but I was so disgusted with myself I couldn't stand it."

"Oh Stevie," you lean into his side. Never in a million years could you have predicted this. "I understand if you're feeling like you never want to see me again and I’m truly sorry I hurt you.”

"Hey, Steve, listen." Bucky untangles your hands to grip Steve's face and turn it towards him. "We have talked about a lot of things throughout our marriage. We both agree that even if we're not actively looking for someone else, if someone would come along one day that we both feel would complete us, then we would pursue that person and ask if that's something they're interested in. Apparently, we've both been blind because that person has been right in front of us this whole time."

As soon as Bucky says the words you know they are true. If this weekend has proved anything it is that you and Bucky love Steve just as much as you love each other.

The look on Steve's face says he doesn't believe it. "You've already kissed my wife. Can I kiss you, Steve?"

The disbelief is still evident but he nods and Bucky slowly leans in. Steve's eyelids flutter shut the moment their lips meet and you watch as your husband and his best friend find something new in each other. Steve's free hand comes up and grips Bucky's neck, at the same time and he squeezes your hand. Their kiss is slow and sensual, containing emotions that have been locked away for years. It's beautiful to watch.

As they break apart a blush rises in Steve's cheeks and a smile cracks his face. Bucky grins back at him in answer. Everything isn't solved or worked out but now the ground under you feels more stable to stand on and you know that together with these two men there is nothing the world can't throw at you that you won't be able to handle.

[mxltifxnd0m]

drunken words ↼ d. winchester

summary: drunk you isn't the best at keeping their mouth shut

pairings: dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader, platonic sam winchester x reader

requested: yes/no: by @traiitorjoe; thank you for sending your request!

word count: 3.0K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', none really, some cursing, a little bit of fluff, sam being a meddling little shit, some angst, kinda edited

a/n: i got this request in july and i felt so bad for having put it off for so long but here we have it! there is a potential for a pt.2 so if anyone wants that lmk lol

but enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me!

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Dealing with the Winchesters always felt like a Herculean task when you would run into them while you were on a hunt. The first time you ran into them was when they barged into the farmhouse that you were staking out for a nest of vampires. They went in, guns blazing, and you cursed them out under your breath as you hurriedly left the hiding spot you were in and rushed into the nest to help them clean out. 

It was safe to say that they were surprised and confused by your anger when you guys had killed all of the vamps. You didn’t recognize them at first when they first ran into the farmhouse, but now that you were standing there and really looking at them, you instantly knew that these were the infamous Winchester brothers you’d heard from Bobby and other hunters.  

Regardless of who they were, you were furious that they had messed up the hunt that you were on, and they were on the receiving end of your fury while they looked at you dumbfounded. After you were done yelling at them, you left the farmhouse fuming and decided to leave them with the cleanup job. 

The brothers were so confused by you that they didn’t even think to ask for your name. They also were slightly scared by your fury, and they failed to realize that you clearly knew who they were, but they had no idea who you were, only that they had taken over your hunt and were really mad about it. Dean only hoped that he wouldn’t run into you ever again. 

But as fate was a fickle thing, you would run into the brothers on your next hunt in a small town in Oregon, where a witch was terrorizing the men of the town, and it just so happened that you had arrived at the station the same time they did. You had to play along with them until you got the information you needed, and then when you tried to leave the station before them, a hand slammed your door before you could get into your car. 

You turned around to be met with emerald green eyes filled with irritation and thinly veiled curiosity. 

“Did you need something Winchester?” You said with a scowl etched into your face. 

Dean scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, answers. Who the hell are you?” 

“What’s it matter to you?” 

“Because you’re a hunter and we could use some help on this case.” Sam interjected, and your eyes were ripped away from the man in front of you. You almost forgot about the taller Winchester that was lingering behind Dean. 

You raised an eyebrow at Sam while Dean’s head jerked over his shoulder and glared at his brother. Sam stared back at his brother with raised brows, sending him a look that said, ‘What? It doesn’t hurt to ask.’ 

“I don’t think your brother here is keen on working with me.” 

“You’re damn right I’m not. You went off on us for no reason and left us to clean up.” 

You couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of them cleaning up the plethora of severed heads and bodies from that farmhouse. But you ignored Dean's words as you contemplated the offer Sam was proposing. 

“Fine I’ll help, but you’ll have to follow my lead on this one.” 

Sam nodded, agreeing with you, and sent you a dimpled smile. 

Dean opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by you slicing the air with your hand in front of his face. 

“Zip it Winchester, either you listen to me or I leave you high and dry on this hunt.” You waved around the copy of the case file that you convinced the Sheriff to give you before leaving the station. 

Dean all but glared at you and stomped towards the black Chevy Impala that was parked down the street. You couldn’t help but smirk at Dean’s grumpy attitude, and Sam told you which motel they were staying in and followed them to it. 

With three heads instead of one (more like two since Dean barely did any research and stuck you and Sam with it), you guys found the witch in no time and disposed of her swiftly. You had to admit that working with the brothers was more manageable than working on your own. But you knew that this had to be a one-off occurrence because you had heard about all of the craziness that surrounded the Winchesters. You were not keen on being pulled into any of it. 

Once the hunt was over, Sam gave you his number and told you to call if you needed help or vice versa. You took it to be polite, but you knew that you weren’t going to call them unless your life depended on it. The three of you went your separate ways before Destiny decided to play her games, and somehow, you ended up working on most of the hunts the brothers were working on. 

It’s like some higher power wanted you to work the Winchesters against your better wishes. Alas, you ended up working with them every time because you couldn’t resist Sam Winchester’s pleading puppy dog eyes. But you got on quite well with Sam, and he slowly became a good friend of yours. 

But your relationship with Dean, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say you had a mutual hatred for each other. You guys practically fought like cats and dogs anytime you interacted, and the two of you couldn’t help but let snide comments leave your lips each time the other was wrong or messed up. Both of you bickered like an old married couple that should have divorced a long time ago, so much so that Sam had to be the mediator constantly if you were to work with the brothers. If he hadn’t, he wasn’t sure if you were either going to throw a punch or fuck each other. 

Dean Winchester is an incredibly infuriating man, and you hated that you found him attractive. It wasn’t lost on you that both of the brothers were hot, like they should be on the cover of a magazine hot, but there was something about Dean that drew you to him more. You didn’t want him to know that, so you hid your attraction for him through your sarcastic demeanor. Eventually, Sam had enough of your bickering that held so much sexual tension that he locked the two of you in the motel room he and Dean were sharing until the two of you could have a civil conversation. 

Sam had left the two of you for a couple of hours. He was half expecting to find the two of you naked in Dean’s bed, but when he unlocked the door, he saw the two of you on separate beds and watching a random movie that was playing on the TV in the room.

In the time that Sam was gone, you guys had bickered and gotten in each other’s faces, but you eventually admitted that it was tiring to keep up the fact that you didn’t exactly hate Dean since the moment you met him and to your surprise, he admitted the same thing. After that, you guys sat on separate beds, finding some common ground between the two of you, and watched whatever was on the TV. 

After that incident, the two of you still argued like a married couple, but there wasn’t any heat behind your words, and it turned into friendly banter between you and the older Winchester. Months went by, and you found yourself as the unofficial third partner to the brothers, accompanying them on the majority of the hunts that they picked up.  

You didn’t know how it happened, but to your utter shock and horror, along the way of becoming friends with Dean Winchester, you developed feelings for him. Of course, you had no idea when you started to feel like this around Dean. Sam was perceptive, caught onto your change in behavior, and had basically interrogated you when he saw you glare at the woman Dean decided to take home that night, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in your chest as he left the bar the three of you were at. 

You had vehemently denied that you felt anything for Dean, but all Sam said in response was a shit-eating grin and gave you a look that said, ‘Yeah, you’re lying, and I know it.’ 

Once Sam had figured out that you liked his brother, he stopped at nothing to leave the two of you alone in hopes that you’d put on your big kid pants and admit your feelings towards him (spoiler alert, you never did). As much as you loved Sam, you honestly wanted to punch him in the face every time he urged you to tell Dean about your feelings. 

You knew that Dean wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, and you definitely knew that he wasn’t one for love or relationships, as evident with the women he picked up at bars after successful hunts. Did your heart clench any time you saw the satisfied smirk on his face the morning after the night out at the bar? You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself, but yeah, it did. 

Now, after a successful hunt, you and the Winchesters found yourselves at the bar across the street from the motel you were staying in. The three of you were at a booth at the corner of the bar, and you had gotten the first round of drinks for each of you. But when Dean volunteered to grab the third round (Sam had gotten the second one), Sam said he was turning in for the night and shot you a sly smile, and you knew exactly what he meant by it. You glared at him briefly before telling him goodnight through gritted teeth (Dean had seen this interaction between you and his brother and was confused by it but brushed it off).

Sam left, and Dean turned to you. “Still want a drink?” He asked. 

You nodded in response, and Dean shot you a small smile before his knuckles knocked on the table, and he made his way toward the bar. A couple of minutes had passed, and Dean wasn’t back from the bar. You looked up from your empty glass to see him being chatted up by a woman dressed to the nines, and clearly, Dean was into her. 

You let out a harsh breath before shaking your head, getting up from the booth, heading to the opposite side of the bar Dean was at, and ordering a vodka soda. You downed in quickly and told the bartender to keep the drinks coming. You didn’t know how many you had until you heard a gruff voice telling the bartender to give you water instead of another drink. You could vaguely recognize Dean’s voice through your drunken haze. 

You turned around in your seat to see Dean right next to you with furrowed brows. “You alright there, kid?” 

Dean hadn’t seen you this drunk before, so he was half concerned but also half amused by the cute pout you had on your face. 

“M’not a kid.” You slurred out, irritated. You hated the nickname that Dean had given you; you weren’t much younger than Dean, you were the same age as Sam. 

“Then why are you pouting like you didn’t get the candy you asked for?” Dean asked, his tone amused. 

You couldn’t help but scowl at him and look around for the woman he was talking to earlier. “Where’s the girl-*hiccup* you were talking to?” You questioned, dazed. 

Dean’s face had scrunched up. “Turns out she plays for the same team.” He muttered lowly, but you managed to hear it through the bar chatter. 

You couldn’t help but burst out in drunken giggles at Dean’s failed attempt to take someone home. Dean looked at you, slightly embarrassed, but couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your laughter. 

“Okay, we should probably get you back to your room.” Dean coaxed you off of the bar stool you were sitting on before paying for the tabs and leading you out of the bar. Dean had tucked you into his side as you walked on wobbly legs across the street to the motel. 

Once you reached your room (which was coincidentally right next to the boys’ room). Dean asked where you had your key. You were leaning into Dean, so his question was spoken into your ear quietly, and it sent a shiver down your spine. 

“M’back pocket.” You mumbled out. 

You didn’t see this as your eyes were closed as you rested your head against his shoulder, but his eyes widened at the realization that he’d have to grab it from your jeans pocket. 

“If you remember this in the morning, please don’t punch me, I swear I wasn’t trying to cop a feel.” He had muttered something else under his breath, but you were too out of it to notice what he said. 

Dean managed to get your room key out of your pocket and unlocked your door. He led the two of you inside, and when you saw your bed, you quickly ripped yourself from Dean’s embrace and fell face-first into bed, uncaring if you were still in jeans. 

Dean chuckled at you, and you looked up at him with a pout. “Are you laughing at me?”  

He shook his head, trying to stifle his amusement. “No, of course not.” 

You squinted suspiciously at him before sitting up and pawing at your combat boots. You were fumbling with the laces until you felt a warm hand cover yours. You looked up and found Dean kneeling on the floor in front of you. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he untied your boots for you and pulled them off of your feet. 

“You’re pretty.” You couldn’t help but blurt out drunkenly. 

Dean laughed, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. “Maybe I should get you drunk often, maybe you’ll compliment me more.” He sent you one of his smug smirks before standing up and heading toward the small kitchenette in your room.

He filled a glass with water before heading to the bathroom. He grabbed some aspirin that was stored in the medicine cabinet (you had no idea that he knew where you stored your painkillers). He came over to the bed with the water and painkillers and set them on the nightstand.

As he was bustling around your room, you had managed to wiggle off your jeans and get underneath the covers of the bed.  You looked at Dean underneath the warm lighting of the lamp that illuminated the room. His freckles were prominent in this lighting, and you couldn’t help but stare at his side profile. 

Dean noticed your intense gaze on him and smirked down at you after setting the water and aspirin on your nightstand. “See something you like?” He gently teased. Dean felt his hand twitch, trying to resist the temptation to brush back the stray hairs on your forehead. 

“Mhm, I like your face.” You smiled in a drunken bliss before your eyes fluttered. “I like you a lot actually.” You said before you felt the pull of sleep tug at your eyes. 

Your eyes shut, and your breathing evened out as you succumbed to sleep, leaving Dean standing in shock next to you. He looked down at your sleeping form before shaking his head. He’d deny the fact he felt his heartbeat quicken at your drunken admission. Dean quickly left your room and entered his shared room with Sam. 

Lucky for him, Sam was sound asleep in his bed, and Dean quickly got ready for bed, trying to ignore the fact you may or may not have shared the same feelings as he did. 

You woke up with a groan. Your head was pounding. You saw through your bleary eyes that there were some painkillers left out with a glass of water right next to them on your nightstand. You sat up as quickly as you could and grabbed the things off the nightstand. You downed some of the water before taking the aspirin and then drinking the rest of the water. 

You put the glass back on the nightstand before crawling back under the covers, wanting to let the ache in your head subside slightly before getting ready for the day. But fate was not on your side because pounding came from your door, making pain shoot through your head, and Dean waltzed into your room with a bag of food and a wide smirk on his face. 

“Rise and shine, kid!” He said enthusiastically. 

You shot up from your spot on the bed and glared at him. “I hate you. And stop calling me kid.” 

“Well, that’s not what you said last night.” Dean smirked knowingly. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach; what the hell did you say last night? “What do you mean?” 

Dean placed the food on the table before leaning on its edge. “Do you not remember what you said last night?” 

You shook your head. “Nope. Last thing I remember was you leading me out of the bar.” 

Dean's smirk faltered. He wasn’t expecting that. “You don’t remember anything at all after that?” 

“No. Why did I say anything important?” 

Dean cleared his throat, trying to seem nonchalant and hide what he was actually feeling. He shook his head. 

“Uh, no. But I got you some grub, we’re gonna head out in 30 so be ready then.” He said stiffly before leaving the room. Not looking at you once before the door closed with a click. 

You stared at the door, confused. That was probably the most awkward Dean had ever been around you. But you shook it off and decided to pack up and eat the breakfast Dean got you. 

You’d figure out what you said to Dean later. 

[greenorangevioletgrass]

the albatross, here to destroy you (a.d.)

Pairing: art donaldson x popstar!reader

Summary: three years, three encounters. First, a chance meeting between two rising stars seeking an escape leaves a handprint on their hearts.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: smoking, language, greek mythology references, hella unresolved sexual tension(!!!), art is highkey a baby and lowkey a brat lol, did i mention unresolved sexual tension?, sooo much pining

Notes: this idea has consumed my waking days for weeks. I contemplated making it a really long fic, but after a long and careful consideration, I have decided to make it a trilogy! Two reasons; a) it’s gonna be really long, and b) I wanted to put Art’s look as a reference in each part lmao. Big up to @ysuftmikey and @tommysparker for being awesome and hearing out my incoherent rambles about this story. But anyway, please comment, reblog, talk to me and tell me what you think about it! Happy reading!

**i do not have a taglist. Follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass andd turn on the notifications to be alerted for new fics and updates!**

Part One: London, July 2011.

It was quite an impressive feat. 23-year-old American rising star Art Donaldson had miraculously beat the defending champion-slash-legend Rafael Nadal at the Wimbledon final.

Or so they said.

You don’t know, nor do you care much, to be quite honest. You were basically ordered to attend by your publicist, outfits picked out, hair and makeup team on full throttle only to have you sit pretty on the side of the Centre Court. And now, after milling around and halfheartedly mingling at the afterparty, you decide to give yourself some respite and slip away to the balcony.

“Oh, shit—” the man quickly turns back and stubs his cigarette on the railing, waving away any trace of smoke.

(You say man in a very broad term. He looks more like a teenage boy with that messy blond mop and skittish way about him.)

You raise your hands, showing no threat. “Sorry. Didn’t realize this balcony was taken.”

“Wait, no. Please.” He stops. He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. The only thing more embarrassing than getting caught smoking was getting caught smoking by a pretty girl. And pretty is… a fucking gross understatement, based on what he was seeing. “Don’t leave on my account.”

“You sure?”

You flash him that soft, understanding smile and he very nearly asks you not to leave, like ever. But fortunately, he’s got enough game to hold his tongue and smile back at you, “There’s more than enough room for both of us here, right?”

Technically, the balcony is big enough for the two of you to stand on opposite corners without even addressing each other. But his fingers are resting on a pack of Marlboro Green, and you bite the inside of your cheek thoughtfully. “And more than enough cigarettes, I hope?”

He’s not sure what he was hoping for, but he sure is surprised to hear you accept his invitation to stay. Gosh, he must’ve looked like an idiot right now. “Sure, of course.”

He slides a cigarette out of the pack as he offers it to you, readily leaning in with his zippo. For a split second, the two of you share a breath in the space that he encloses with one hand as he lights your cigarette. You would be lying if it didn’t make your heart stutter.

“So…” you inhale, taking the nicotine hit to calm your thoughts, “I thought smoking was bad for athletes.”

“I thought smoking was bad for singers too, but I guess it’s less frowned upon, huh?” He murmurs, trying to balance a fresh cigarette off of the side of his lips, smirking at you over the flicker of flame he started.

“Touché.” You lean your back against the railing. It’s an interesting game of chess you’re playing. Each of your reputations precede you and don’t at the same time. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re out here smoking on your own, instead of in there…” Celebrating is left unsaid, although the implied word hangs in big and bold letters.

“Ah well, maybe this is my way of celebrating. We’re allowed one vice every now and again, right?”

You look at him like it’s a bullshit excuse—and it is.

“This is gonna sound insane, but…” he takes a drag, looking out at the landscape before him, “I don’t feel like I should be celebrating.”

You look at him like that bullshit excuse grew a new head.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I worked hard for it and I’m glad it paid off, but…” he flicks the ash on the end of his cigarette three times. “I could’ve been better. Quicker. Won more points earlier. Beat him faster. And until I can do that, I don’t think I deserve a celebration just yet.”

You hum softly. “Sounds like you’re making a Sisyphus out of yourself. That can’t be fun.”

His mouth tugs into a crooked smile, not expecting to be called out like this. “I mean, at least I’m not rolling a boulder up a hill. I’d take tennis over that any day.”

“Yeah, but it seems like tennis is your boulder up a hill.”

“Touché.” He smiles bashfully as he takes a long drag. And then, he offers his hand. “I’m Art Donaldson, by the way.”

It’s a formality at this point. He knows who you are, heard your songs on the radio and saw your face on billboards more times than he can count. Hell, he saw you on the stands in your little Dior sunglasses earlier—and you saw him looking, just for a moment, sweat dripping down his perfect nose and all. But out of courtesy, you tell him your name and accept his handshake.

You pull your hand away, and he almost groans in protest. But again, he holds his horses. “Alright, I’ll bite. If I’m Sisyphus, what does that make you?”

“Oh, definitely Dionysus. Living on wine and theater and good vibes.” You’ve got that shit locked and loaded. It’s obvious that you’ve thought of this before.

“Is that so?” He chuckles. “Well… as long as you don’t sacrifice me to the maenads, right?”

“Can’t promise you that,” you quip back, tapping the gray off of your remaining cigarette. Pleasantly surprised that he doesn’t make the obnoxious remark that Dionysus is also the god of sex, as boys would do. Even more so that he knows enough to know the difference between the sirens and the maenads.

There’s no fighting the raging flush in his cheeks anymore, but he just hopes you would spare him. “Will you at least promise to make it swift?”

It comes out faster than a trainwreck, but without even blinking, the one thing that comes out of your mouth is, “What if I wanna take my time with you?”

Fuck.

The party carries on inside, although Stevie Wonder’s ‘My Cherie Amour’ sounds a mile away. His cigarette smoke comes out in a stuttered huff, as he looks away, not knowing what to do with himself. Eventually, though, he recovers, taking another drag. “It wouldn’t be a terrible way to go, huh?”

“I suppose not.” You sigh into a smile, exuding a flume of smoke through your nose. Shit, he doesn’t know which one is hotter; that, or the lipstick mark on your filter. Or the pensive look as you watch the party through the window.

Oh, he’s down bad.

“So, Dionysus…” he leans out against the railing, flicking ash off his stub one, two, three. “What brings you out here? You a tennis fan?”

“Me? Oh, no. No, I… don’t even really understand how it worked until today,” you admit bashfully. Somehow the truth doesn’t feel so embarrassing, even though you spent the day lying through your teeth. “Not until I saw you play. Which… congrats, by the way.”

“Wow. Thanks.” He’s not sure whether it’s the earnestness in your congratulations, or the fact that the game finally makes sense because of him, but his heart grows three sizes.

“But, yeah, no, my publicist dragged me here kicking and screaming.”

“So you were forced into a party, huh? That’s not very Dionysian of you…” He muses playfully, and those lines on each side of his lips aching to break out into a full smile. And they do. And it warms your heart that those smile lines only emphasizes the way his face lights up. “Nah, I get what you mean. My agent had to drag me out of the locker room to make an ‘appearance.’”

“Yeah, she said something about… shifting into a classier, more grownup image?”

“By watching a couple of dudes hit a ball with a racket?”

“By sitting there and looking pretty. It’s the only reason I’m all decked out in this ridiculous fucking thing,” you look down at your outfit with a grumble. Of all the days you could’ve run into someone cute, you’re in a fucking pantsuit like some middle-aged politician.

“But you do look pretty,” he replies without even blinking.

“Thanks, it’s Ralph Lauren.” You smile faux sweetly. “I believe I’m contractually obligated to say that.”

“Still pretty,” and he means it, lackadaisical smile and all. The ivory cape-like blazer is an interesting cut that goes down to your knees, and it makes you look regal. The cut of the pants makes your legs go for miles. It certainly doesn’t hurt that your off-white shirt is unbuttoned halfway, showing a generous amount of cleavage.

(And hey, he’s still a guy. Can you blame him?)

He has this way of looking at you. Like he’s studying you. It would’ve been unsettling, if he weren’t so fucking beautiful to look at and you don’t mind an excuse to stare back and admire the angular lines on his face. Like Apollo in the moonlight. “What?”

Art taps his cigarette much more deliberately and inhales, exhales out of the side of his mouth, much more deliberately this time. “I think you’re more Aphrodite than Dionysus.”

You take another drag. “How so?”

“First of all, for a god of parties, you don’t like to party all that much,” he grins knowingly, smugly, like he’s proud to have figured you out. But his smile softens, and there’s intensity behind his eyes. “And because you’re beautiful. And dangerous.”

Your mouth twists, pausing for a long moment. To calm yourself. To gather yourself. “But it’s so cliched, though…”

“Well, who would you rather be? Medusa, maybe?” He turns his body, leaning on his side against the railing so he’s fully facing you, and you can’t help but mirror his position.

You raise a forefinger pointedly, French manicured nails on display. “Hey. I think Medusa gets a bad rep. Neptune fucked her over, but she was the one cursed.”

“And what, you think you’re as cursed as Medusa, too?”

You shrug, maybe.

Despite the weight of your answer, he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. “There’s no way you’re cursed. A curse wouldn’t be so beautiful.”

“But a curse could be deceiving, no?”

“Or maybe it’s a matter of perspective. Maybe you think you’re cursed, even when you might not necessarily be.”

“Oh, just like you’re so inclined to keep pushing your boulder up a hill?”

Art blinks, and sucks his teeth bashfully. Just when he thought he’s got you figured out… Check and mate. “You know, if I didn’t know you any better, I would’ve thought you were some kind of an oracle. Like Cassandra.”

Your eyebrows raise in interest.

“You have this strange, unnerving ability to see right through me. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had a few drinks, or you’re just very observant, but…” he trails off thoughtfully and then nods like he’s made up his mind. “Cassandra.”

“Cassandra,” you echo quietly. “I like that.”

“Mm-hm. I’d say it’s a very fitting title for you.”

That fond little glint in his eyes is becoming a staple in the way he looks at you. And you don’t ever wanna see it dim. So you speak up again, leaning in conspiratorially. “You wanna hear something funny?”

“What?”

“My parents almost named me Cassandra.”

His jaw drops, dumbstruck. “Shut the fuck up.” His grandmother would have smacked him on the back of his head, knowing the profanity he uses (to a girl he likes, no less). But out of all the things he tried to figure out about her, he never expected to get this one right.

“I shit you not.” You watch him double down laughing, grinning to yourself. “Freaky coincidence, right?”

“Or the Fates working overtime. I’m sure they’d be laughing at us right now.” He looks up at the deep blue sky with a shake of the head.

You wave at the stars, taking a mock bow to your invisible audience. “Thank you. Glad you’re enjoying the show, guys.” The laughter lingers on your lips, and you wonder if it tastes the same on his. “We really are just the court jesters, huh?”

He nods. “Although I wouldn’t mind playing the fool for you.” Maybe it’s the drinks or the cigarettes or the unlikeliest conversation with the most stunning creature he has ever laid eyes on, but at one point, his inhibitions are starting to leave him.

It’s now or never.

The dubious smile that comes out of you is involuntary. He can’t be serious, right? “You are so full of shit, aren’t you?”

“You don’t believe me?”

You look at him like, obviously.

“What are you gonna do, punish me for lying?” There’s that glint again, the bite against the inside of your cheek, and Art steps in.

Your heart catches. He doesn’t feel much like a boy now, inches away from you with a disarming look, his intentions crystal clear. And your head drops for a moment with a wry smile. “You can’t say that to me...”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Because? His grin widens, because for the first time this whole evening, he’s got the upper hand. And he likes it.

“I…” You blink at him, finding yourself cornered. Thankfully, though, your phone comes to the rescue, buzzing in your pocket and popping the tension between you and Art like a balloon. “I’m sorry, do you mind if I—”

“Yeah, sure.” he backs away a step, flashing an understanding smile. He watches you pick up the phone, looking out at the London sky. He would swear up and down that he didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He just loves to watch you gnaw at your lower lip in thought, study your moonbathed profile.

Listen to the sweet, sweet sound of your voice.

“Hi… no, I’m still at the— yeah. I’m not sure… are you still with…? Oh, good. Good, just checking. Say hi to everyone for me... Yeah, I’ll call you when I get back?” You catch Art’s gaze, and your stomach drops as you hear the dreaded words on the line. But again, you’re backed away into a corner. So you look away and say it back, “I love you, too. Bye.”

There it is.

Art really should’ve known this. He should’ve seen it coming. You were way too good to be true, but that doesn’t stop him from getting disappointed. No, his heart breaks on the spot, and he’s pretty sure you can hear it.

(You can’t. But you can see it in his face.)

The silence is awkward. It’s ugly. The steady sounds of cars passing by on the ground feels like it’s right in front of you. For the longest time, the two of you can only look out onto the horizon. Anxiously tracing the outlines of skyscrapers in sight.

He is reeling, like he’s been shaken awake from a dream. “So, I take it you’re taken, huh?”

The look you give him is apologetic, and it kills you as much as it destroys him. “Yeah.”

Art rubs at his jaw like he’s willing himself to say something, anything. “I see you’ve cursed me, then.”

“What?”

It takes him a moment to gather his words. Put together his thoughts in a way that you would understand. He didn’t mean it to sound so damning, but it’s the first thing that comes out. It feels like taking a boulder out of his throat. “By making me like you.”

Oh.

Your face falls. Of course. How cruel of you to play his game, knowing you’re setting him up to lose. “I’m sorry. I never meant to…”

“No, no. I’m not blaming you, I swear,” he quickly interjects. “It’s… not your fault one of us is a fool.” He smiles ruefully at nothing.

“It’s a shame,” you quietly admit.

And even then he can’t be mad at you. Not from the way he looks at you oh so tenderly. “It’s a real shame, love.”

There are no words, no more witty remarks. They’ve all been exhausted out of you. There’s nothing left to exchange but that soft look of resignation. Of defeat.

Of wishful thinking.

The cigarettes have long died out and forgotten, only the filters left between your fingers. Your ashes fall in a big chunk on the railing, while Art’s… have free-dived and dispersed in the muggy night air.

“I should go.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. “Let you go back to your party.”

Art can only nod. He keeps his mouth shut, not trusting himself enough to not beg you to stay.

You reach out, almost pulling back, but you can’t help it. Even if it’s just a nothing hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Art.”

He covers your hand in his, just for a second. His thumb caressing the back of your hand. His heart is in pieces, but at least he will have this. If nothing else, he will still know how your hand feels in his.

And just as quickly as it happens, it ends. Art doesn’t dare watch you leave. He misses your touch instantly, and the sound of your footsteps, and the door opening and closing follows. As Al Green’s ‘What Am I Gonna Do With Myself’ plays on in the party, Art looks out towards the London sky and lights another cigarette.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Lovestruck

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: 1026

Summary: Steve has been holding in his feelings for a while now and finally decides he is ready to express them.

Warnings: Soft smut, unprotected sex, kissing, hand job, oral (fem), Steve with a beard (yes it’s a warning), using “accidental I love you’s during sex & sleepy domestic sex prompts.”

A/N 1: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo 💜 (any mistakes in spelling & grammar are my own. I wrote this on my phone)

A/N 2: divider by @whimsicalrogers & header by me.

A/N 3: This is for @mercurial-chuckles for their Smutty September Fest.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. It has been stolen if you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Steve was usually up at the break of dawn to get his morning run done. He decides to stay in bed this morning as he holds your naked form close to his chest. Your soft snores fill his ears as he lightly chuckles to himself. His hand caresses your arm as he takes in your soft scent of vanilla and lilac. The scent soothes him as he relaxes in bed with you, contemplating how to express his new emotion, love. He has known for months that he loves you but has never expressed it because he was afraid it was too soon in your relationship. When was the right time to express it? As you try to cuddle closer he determines that today would be it. 

He moves his head to the side and kisses your forehead gently. You let out a soft whine and start to stir from your sleep. Your hand lightly drags across his stomach causing him to groan from his cock growing hard. Only your gentle touch could make him feel this turned on and needy for more. His lips kiss you again and he feels you start to stretch your limbs. Your right hand disappears under the blankets and softly strokes his length. Your lips kiss his chest as your hand strokes Steve up and down, drawing out his quiet groans. 

“Good morning, Steve,” you sleepily whisper as you slowly stroke his cock the way he likes. 

“Mor-morning love. Fuck, don’t stop.” Steve lets out a deep groan as your hand tightens around him as you work his cock faster. 

Steve’s hand moves to your breasts and lightly rolls your nipple between his fingers. You end up gasping out from the pleasure it brings you. He is trying his best to focus on you and not what that hand of yours is doing. If you keep stroking him the way you are, Steve knows he will cum before he even gets started. He gently rolls you to your back, your hand letting go of him, while he moves down your body kissing his way to where your pussy is. He softly pushes your legs apart and licks a stripe up your pussy then tenderly kisses your clit. You try to close your thighs around his head but his hands keep you wide open. Steve starts to eat you like a man starved. His tongue dives between your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit and all you can do is moan while he takes you apart. 

Your fingers find purchase in his hair as you feel his beard giving you the best burn while he takes you higher and higher. The knot in your stomach starts to form as you moan his name over and over again until finally, you fall off that ledge. Your arousal soaks his beard and all he can do is groan against you. Steve finally slows down as you start to twitch from being overstimulated. He makes his way back up your body, licking your arousal from his face. Steve situates himself between your legs as you stare up at him sleepily. He leans down and kisses your lips, his tongue and yours caressing one another in a dance for dominance. Your legs wrap around his waist as his cock rubs against your wet pussy. Together you grind against one another until finally Steve’s tip catches on your entrance. Pulling slightly back from the kiss Steve smiles down at you.

“God, I love you, sweetheart. With all my heart and everything that I am. There’s no one else I want to spend my life with.”

Your eyes shine bright up at his blue ones. Did you hear him right in your sleepy state? Did he just confess his love? 

“Did you just say you loved me?” You asked.

He smiles down at you. “I did. I know it took some time but I mean it. I’m so in love with you, sweetheart.”

Your lips crashed against his again as tears welled up in your eyes. “I love you too, Stevie. Make love to me.”

With your answer, Steve pushes his cock into your wet pussy. The feel of his long, thick cock stretching you always takes your breath away. As he bottoms out you moan his name. Pulling his hips back to retreat to just the tip he gives you a hard thrust. Together you both make love to one another. Every thrust, every roll of your hips has you both groaning into the heavens above. There was no rush, just two bodies becoming one in the moment. 

Steve kisses your neck and whispers, “I love you,” into your ear.

Your fingers scratch down his back as he finds that special spot inside you. It nearly has you choking on a gasp and Steve knows you are close by your walls clenching around his manhood. 

“I love you too, Stevie,” you gasp out your reply. 

Steve speeds up his thrusts, skin starting to slap against skin, as he pounds into you. You can do nothing but hold on to him, your heels digging into his back as he takes you apart again. The knot forming in your stomach instantly breaks like a dam and you cum hard for him. Thrusting faster into you Steve chases his end and cums deep inside you. 

You both lay all tangled up together in bed and chuckle. 

“I can’t believe you said you loved me finally during sex Steve.”

He blushes at you, trying to hide his face in your neck. “I meant what I said. I love you so much that I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night telling you how much I love you.” 

“I want that too Steve. How about we get cleaned up and make breakfast.” 

“I would love that sweetheart. But first I’m going to take you in the shower again. I want to hear how much you love me while I take you apart.”

You squealed in delight as Steve chased you into the shower. It would be an amazing day now that you know how he felt.

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More Than This 7

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~3.9k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, fighting, my own rampant abuse of italics and em dashes, non-stop continuous action (not the car chase kind, but like, the no section breaks kind), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: There's no going back now.

Permanent thanks, as always, to @paperweight91 who lets me talk her ear off about this and always has the best input.

I cannot wait to talk to you all about this one, so please leave me a comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think! And if you need to come scream at me, that's even better!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You woke up to the sun streaming in through the windows. You rolled over and checked the time. It was after nine. You’d slept hard—the exhaustion of everything catching up with you. And yet you still hadn’t woken up feeling rested. You couldn’t remember the last time you did.

You grabbed your phone and groaned when you saw all the notifications. Texts, missed calls, two voicemails. All from Steve. He was freaking out. 

Are you ok?

Did something happen?

Please call me

And a few more just like them. You were too tired to answer. You didn’t know how. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t ignored your messages before. You grimaced at your own pettiness. You would answer him when you knew what to say.

As soon as Lola noticed you were awake, she hopped off your makeshift bed and ran to the door, scratching at it to be let out. You sighed. Of course, the safety of your isolation couldn’t last forever. The good news was that it was late enough that Ransom must be gone. You could put that off at least until the evening.

When you opened the door, Lola at your heels, you heard someone moving around downstairs. You hadn’t thought it was a Carol day, but you must’ve lost track. It wasn’t until you were halfway down the stairs that you saw Ransom puttering around in the kitchen, his back to you. Your stomach dropped. Shit shit shit. Why was he here? You contemplated running back into the gym, but as soon as she saw him, Lola darted out ahead of you and raced down the stairs so she could dance around at his feet. He crouched down to greet her. “Morning, Lola,” he rumbled, his voice still full of sleep. “D’you have a good night?” She hopped up and down, pawing at his leg.

You took a deep breath and gathered all of your courage. “She wants breakfast,” you said from your place on the stairs.

His head whipped up to you. He stood up awkwardly. “Oh, uh, where’s her food?”

You came down the rest of the stairs and passed in front of him into the kitchen. “I’ll do it,” you said as you went straight to the cabinet where you kept Lola’s meal supplies. 

Once you had her fed and briefly let her out the back door, you noticed multiple bags of take-out on the island. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, uh,” Ransom rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at you. “I thought we should probably have breakfast. Together. And I didn’t really know what you like, so…” he shrugged.

You quickly took stock of the food. There were diner waffles, pastries from a bakery, eggs benedict from a fancy brunch place. “Thank you,” you said. “That’s nice.” You grabbed a danish from the pastry bag and sat down at the island. “I, uh–” you started then stopped, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I freaked out last night. I, uh– I don’t know what happened. I– I was scared, I guess, by the–” you gestured to your stomach. “But um, I shouldn’t’ve– It won’t happen again, you know? I’m fine now. Everything’s fine.”

Ransom leaned against the counter, facing you, and closed his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, then looked you straight in the eyes and said, “I’m so fucking tired of that word.”

You set down your pastry and looked at him, confused. “What?”

“You’re always so fucking fine, aren’t you? I ask how your day was, it was fine. I ask how you feel about something, it’s fine. I ask what’s wrong when you’re clearly upset, and you say, ‘Oh nothing, everything’s fine.’ It’s fine! It’s fine! It’s fine! I can’t hear it one more time.”

All you could do was sputter for a moment. “What– What are you talking about?! I’ve just been doing what you wanted!”

“How is this what I wanted?” he asked, his frustration shocking you..

But then, your mind started to catch up a bit and you were suddenly filled with indignation. “You told me to pack light! You– You– You made it clear! I know you don’t want me here so I’m just– I’m just trying to do what you want! I'm staying out of your way!”

He laughed and the hollow sound was so startling. “This is you staying out of my way? You’re just this presence that’s always here! That makes me feel unwelcome in my own home!”

That had you standing up so quickly that it sent the stool you’d been on tumbling to the floor behind you. A frightened Lola scampered up the stairs, her collar tinkling sharply, but neither of you noticed. 

“What?!” you shouted, “How could– I– This is your house! How could you ever feel unwelcome here? I’ve never felt welcome here for even a moment! I’m not even a guest here, I’m just this, this– I don’t know! I’m just this pest that you wish you could exterminate but you can’t. You don’t want me here and I feel it every single day.”

“Well, you’ve never told me that, have you?” He almost growled out. “I’m just supposed to know! I see you making this list in your head of everything I’m doing wrong, all the ways I’m disappointing you but you never say anything about any of it. But then when I don’t know how to fix any of it, because I don’t actually know what’s wrong, you resent me for it!” You started to open your mouth and he slammed a hand down on the island between you. “Don’t deny it. I can see it whenever you look at me. You’ve decided that I’m the villain here, right? I’m the bad guy in this story. And I don’t–” He moved his hands to his hips and looked away from you, shaking his head. “I have no idea who you are,” he said, quieter now but no less forceful. “You don’t want me to. You have me just grasping at straws and– But you’ve just decided, huh? That you know exactly who I am.”

All you could do for a full fifteen seconds was just gape at him. He looked tired suddenly. Sad, as if that made any sense at all with anything that had happened. But then you remembered everything that had happened and your anger came flooding back. “Yes, I know who you are. Of course, I do! Because you showed me! It’s like you’ve completely forgotten how we met. Or our wedding!” A tear fell down your cheek and you knew more were about to follow, ready to tip over your lashes. You wanted to wipe them away, but you also just couldn’t take the time to stop right now. “You were awful! Really fucking awful. Right from the beginning you were so cruel and– and now– No! I– How can you expect me to come to you with anything when you all but told me not to during that first dinner?! When you told me you didn’t want me taking up any space here? Or that you would get rid of Lola?! Of course I don’t talk to you! What am I supposed to talk to you about when you terrify me? When everything I have comes from you and you don’t give me anything? When you hold all of the power?!” 

“What fucking power?” Ransom shouted, throwing his arms wide. “If I had any power at all, neither of us would be in this mess!”

“It’s still more than I have! I have nothing! You’re the heir. You matter to people. I’ve only ever been a bargaining chip. And now that they’ve made the deal, no one gives a shit what happens to me. You could do anything to me, and they wouldn’t care! Even my mom–” You cut yourself off, tears choking your voice.

There was a beat of silence, and then, “Even your mom what?” Ransom asked, his voice rough. He was staring at you like the next words out of your mouth would be the most important ever spoken.

And it was only because you felt it too, everything riding on this, that you managed to say, your voice so small and your eyes downcast, “She only ever asks if I’m making you happy.”

When he didn’t say anything to that, you looked back up to find him staring at you, his eyes incredibly serious. But not angry, something– something else. Finally, he sighed and, putting both elbows on the island, said, “I’m really fucking miserable. How ‘bout you?”

You would try to examine it later, the way your instinct in that moment was to apologize or try to downplay your own feelings, your mom’s voice in your head no matter how much you hated it, but instead you took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, I’m– I’ve been so unhappy.”

He nodded then scrubbed a hand over his face. “I think,” he said slowly. “I think we’ve both been acting like if we just ignore this hard enough we’ll wake up one day and this will be over and our lives will go back to normal. But now with the–,” he gestured to you. “We can’t keep doing that. We gotta– We have to figure out a way to live with this.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, wrapping one arm around your stomach. You couldn’t help but look at him a little warily. Was this real? Did he mean it? “How do we do that?” 

He chuckled ruefully. “I don’t know.”

You just looked at him for a moment before you were interrupted by your stomach growling loudly. “Sorry,” you said, awkwardly. “I didn’t eat much last night.”

“Right,” he said with a decisive nod, “breakfast.”

You each served yourselves from all the food he’d ordered. He righted the stool you knocked over and you both sat down to eat. You didn’t say anything, neither of you did. You figured he had just as much to think about as you did. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d said he had no idea who you were. It’d been easy, maybe, to forget that this was something that had happened to both of you, when you were in his house, facing his family, working your way into his life. It’d never occurred to you, after that first meeting, that he might want to get to know you, might want to see past all the walls you’d put up to protect yourself. But you felt like they were fortified now. You weren’t sure how to take them down.

Even though you kept your focus on your food, you could tell he kept glancing at you. You felt his eyes on you every few minutes. Finally, as you both finished up your food, he cleared his throat. “I’m an asshole,” he said quietly. “I just am. I always have been. But uh, you didn’t– You didn’t deserve that at dinner. Or the wedding. Or when I yelled at you last night. It didn’t– I don’t think it occurred to me that you’d take me, what I said, seriously. I’m not used to people listening to me, not like that.”

You stared at your plate for a moment and tried to keep breathing. “I– Of course, I took you seriously. What else would I do? I didn’t know you and I was already so scared and– How was I supposed to know you didn’t mean it?” You could feel yourself starting to cry again and wiped furiously at your eyes.

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I– I didn’t do a good job of understanding how hard this was for you. And I– I’ll try not to do that again.”

All you could do with that was nod.

“But uh– I need you to talk to me, tell me when something’s wrong. I can’t– I need you to talk to me. I’ll, uh, I won’t be mad or– I feel like the few times you’ve let yourself be upset, those are the only times I felt like I could actually see you. I want to be able to see you.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m uh,” you started, trying to find your words. “I’m used to having to put on a mask. It’s really hard for me to not do that.”

He nodded slowly. “How ‘bout,” he said, “I’ll try to be less of an asshole if you try to let yourself be more of one?”

You laughed. You couldn’t help it, it just bubbled out of you, to your own surprise. “Sure,” you smiled, “yeah. Deal.” You met his eyes and he looked proud of himself. There was something about the way he was looking at you that made you have to look away. You put all your attention into taking a last bite of your food.

“So,” he said, and he sounded serious again. “I think we should talk about last night.”

It took everything in you to not shrink down. You wanted to do anything else, but he was right. You needed to. So you nodded and waited for him to start.

“You said– Well. You said a lot of things. But let’s start with– You said I keep you trapped here.”

Your brow furrowed a little bit. “Well, yeah, you only have one car and you don’t have a driver. How am I supposed to go anywhere?”

The dawning realization on his face would have almost been comical if it had been about something that hadn’t caused you so much pain. “Oh my god,” he said. “I– Why didn’t you– No, right. Yeah.” He took out his phone and started typing. “I’ll figure something out. Do you drive?”

“Steve taught me, a little, when I was a teenager. But I’m not– I’m not super comfortable,” you shrugged.

“Ok,” he said typing a few more words, then put his phone down. He looked at you very seriously and said, “Now I need you to tell me exactly what you meant about siccing my mom on you.”

“Oh, well, just that she came over, you know, the next day after I told you I wanted to find a job.”

Ransom’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Here? She came here?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, not entirely sure what was happening. “She let herself in and said you’d talked to her about how I wanted to work and that you wanted me to focus on giving you a family. That that was my job now.”

Ransom’s face darkened in a way you’d never seen before. “Fucking–” he growled. “Goddamnit.” You watched him warily and when he made eye contact, you saw the way he worked to soften his expression. He shook his head. “I never said that. I just, I brought it up to her because she has connections, you know, in surprising places. I should have known. I was stupid. And when you didn’t bring it up again, I just, I assumed it hadn’t worked out and you didn’t want to talk about it.” He took a deep breath, clearly trying to make himself calm down. “Did she say anything else?”

You looked at him carefully. It was almost like he looked different today, something about him. It really did seem like he was trying. So you took a breath and decided to trust him. “She wasn’t very nice to me. She never is. She’s– She’s only ever been awful to me.”

“Yeah,” he said grimly, “that’s fucking Linda. Alright, she comes here again, I want you to tell me. Don’t even talk to her, just call me right away. She tries to call you, you tell me. She ever says anything to you, you tell me, ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, and you didn’t know how to guard yourself from the warmth that spread through you. “I’ll tell you.”

He nodded. “Good. And if you still want to get a job, I’ll help you, ok? I want to do that.”

“Yeah, I,” you sighed, “I don’t know. Everything’s really overwhelming right now.”

“I get that,” he said, “but if you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will,” you promised. Then, when he didn’t immediately bring up another topic from the night before, you raised one of your own. “Um, you never use your gym.” He looked at you, confused, and you shook your head at yourself. “Sorry, it’s just, you have all those rooms upstairs that you never use, and well, you and I,” you rested a hand on your belly, “we did what we needed to do, right? So, uh, I’m having my bedroom furniture shipped here and if it’s alright, I’d like to, uh, turn that room into my room.” 

There was a long pause, long enough for you to get uncomfortable, start to worry that you’d messed up. His face was blank, you couldn’t find any clues there. Then, finally, he seemed to shake himself and said, “Yeah, sure, of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll have it cleared out for you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Great! Thank you! I’m sure you’ll be happy to have your own space back.”

“Right, yeah,” he said and nodded several times. “Yeah.”   

You both got quiet again after that, but it didn’t feel as oppressive as it often had before. Eventually, you began cleaning up breakfast together. As you moved around him in the kitchen to load the dishwasher, you paused. “Hey, uh, what’d you tell your parents? About last night, dinner?”

“Oh,” he said, turning to you from the fridge. “Just that I was suddenly violently ill and we couldn’t make it.”

That stopped you completely. You’d been bent over as you loaded plates, but now you stood up, giving him all of your attention. “Really? You didn’t– didn’t blame me? Or uh, tell them about–”

He finished what he was doing and closed the fridge, then closed some of the space between you. “What? No, fuck that. Listen, any excuse to not have to deal with Richard and Linda is welcome. I’m serious. Fuck them.”

That was when everything really hit you, just how badly you'd misread so much of what had happened. Of all the pain you’d suffered over the past months, how much of it had been self-inflicted? Would everything have been so much easier, for both of you, if you’d just been willing to talk to him? For what felt like the thousandth time that morning, you felt your eyes beginning to well. You tried to turn your head away, but Ransom noticed before you could.

“Hey,” Ransom said quietly as he approached you cautiously, stopping right in front of you, his hands hovering in the air between you both. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know,” you said, your voice tight. “I don’t know. I just– Everything’s just been so hard.”

Ransom sighed, heavily. “Yeah. I know.”

“Um,” you let out a defeated, embarrassed little laugh as the tears began to fall down your face. “Do you think it’s too early to blame pregnancy hormones?” you asked, as you tried to make yourself stop crying.

Instead of dismissing it as a joke, Ransom looked at you very seriously. “I think that you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

There was something about that, the way it felt like acceptance, that made the tears come even harder.

It was then, of course, that your phone started vibrating on the counter, Steve’s ID flashing on the screen. “Oh,” you said, “um, shit.” You just stared at it, not quite able to pick it up. “I, uh, texted him last night. During everything. I’m sure he’s freaking out now.”

“Right,” Ransom nodded. “Well, I’ll give you some privacy.”

You were suddenly filled with the ridiculous need to not be alone right now. “Uh, yeah, thanks. But, uh, maybe, maybe don’t go far.” Your voice dropped out a little at the end of the sentence, embarrassed.

He looked at you carefully and you couldn’t imagine what he saw. A mess, probably. “Yeah,” he said, “of course. I’ll be just upstairs. Shout if you need me.”

Then he left and you took a deep breath. The call had gone to voicemail while you’d dithered, so you called Steve back, sure he’d try again anyway if you delayed any further.

He picked up immediately. “Oh thank god,” he breathed. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just–” you began, trying to keep your voice strong. But of course, you couldn’t hide from Steve.

“Are you crying?” he asked gruffly. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not, Steve,” you lied.

“Chipmunk,” he said, sadly, knowing how hard the childhood nickname would hit you. “What’s going on? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You closed your eyes as tightly as you could. “Nothing. It’s just–” You knew you had to tell him something but you had no idea where to start. You could tell him, you supposed, about– about the baby, but it felt impossible to say out loud. And you had no idea how he’d react. Or, rather you had a very good idea, and it was very, very bad. You didn’t have the energy for that. Or the strength and courage. Not now. Maybe not ever. But you couldn’t talk about what happened the night before and this morning without mentioning that part, so really, you couldn’t talk about anything. And you knew your brother. You knew how that would go over. “I’m tired. And I miss you.”

He was silent for several moments. When he finally spoke, all he said was, “I know something happened.”

“It didn’t Steve. Everything’s fine.”

“I know you’re lying to me. Why are you lying?” He was pleading now and you were too tired and hormonal for this.

“Steve,” you pleaded right back, your voice breaking just a little. “Can you please just believe me? Just this once?”

There was another long pause, and then, “Goddammit, I hate this. I can’t– I worry about you all the time. Every time I see a missed call or text from you, my stomach drops. But now you won’t talk to me. And I can’t help you. I don’t know what to do about any of it.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “I know you think you should always be able to fix everything, but there’s just nothing for you to fix this time, ok? Please?”

He just sighed and you both quietly sat on the phone together. You didn’t know what to say to him but couldn’t hang up. Finally, he broke the silence with “I really fucking miss you.”

You smiled just a little, even as you wiped the tears from your face. “I fucking miss you too. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said quietly. He sighed again. “Ok, I should go. But we’ll talk again soon. Take care of yourself.”

“Ok,” you said softly. “Bye.” You hung up and set your phone down then put your head in your hands and let yourself cry without trying to stop it. You didn’t notice anything happening around you until you felt a weight settle onto the couch beside you and suddenly your lap was full of Lola. Then a hand gingerly touched your back. When you didn’t move away, it started gently moving up and down. You couldn’t help but lean into it.

The strangest sensation came over you. You couldn’t explain it, but as you sat there on the couch, crying while Ransom rubbed your back, you somehow felt the best you had in months.

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✿⠀ׁ⠀𝓳𝐚𝐳 𝓷𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐳 ; something else that's not the smau ! I hate this layout. It looks so messy 😖

✿⠀ׁ⠀𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 : ⸻ 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚 || maknae line ver.

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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 (이희승)

would try to act nonchalant

but in reality is a SIMP for you

you've gotten sick of the little soft baby kisses on your hands, cheeks, or forehead, and decided to take matters into your own hands. you've been contemplating if he even wanted to kiss you in the first place. because every single time you've leaned in, he either dodged it or gave you a kiss on your cheek/forehead. but in reality he's been anxious to even get near your lips. he'd just stare at them aimlessly, not caring if you noticed. so when he leaned over to grab the remote on the couch in the living room, you cupped his jaw and kissed him passionately. heeseung was shocked but quickly kissed you back and deepened the kiss. "woah.. not gonna lie that was my first kiss, and I'm so glad it was with you" heeseung chuckled calmly, knowing damn well he was giggly inside

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 (박종성)

his first kiss with you would most definitely be an accident.

he'd be planning it since yall got together, just for it to happen so fast on a random day

you and jay were in the kitchen late at night, dancing to music mindlessly, until later on into the night, it started getting quiet since the karaoke bluetooth speaker, died, both of you focused on making the food right and cleaning up. it was pitch silent, and you were on one counter cutting rolling the dough, while jay next to you, in front of the stove, boiling water, since both of you collectively decided to make pasta. jay turned around to grab a seasoning next to you, and you turned around to say something to him, and that's when both of your lips met together. it happened so fast since it was a small peck, that both of you backed away. "damn it, I literally planned a whole romantic picnic for this.." jay sadly looked down while you laughed at his poutyness.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (심재윤)

freak out

even though yall have been dating for MONTHS, he'd be all red and shy

you and jake were on a date. Currently, jake is driving you home since the date was over. the car ride was very peaceful. it was very nice and chill, the soft, romantic music going, in the background. once jake drove up to the side of your house, he shut off his car, got off, went to your side of the car, and opened your car door. he grabbed your hand and led you to your house's front door. "I had a fun night today, darling." you decided to cut him off by giving him the biggest smooch on his lips. which caught jake off guard until you called his name. "oh shit.." jake scratched the back of his neck, hiding his red face.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 (박성훈)

literally would stare at you

would be shy too, then overcome it

you decided to come over, sunghoon's house unannounced for the fun of it. you are currently inside of sunghoon's room, cuddling with him on his bed, but sunghoon was playing on his phone, laying on his back while you were hugging him. it had been 10-15 minutes since you got there, and you got bored, so you decided to spice things up a bit. you looked up at him, and sunghoon was mindless of this since he was so focused on his game, that you cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips, in a fast swift motion, that sunghoon had anytime comprehend what just happened, he stared at you blankly. once he realized you kissed him, he turned red so fast. "uh-oh-uh.."

[endlessthxxghts]

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Biology **most recent** Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals. [5.4k]

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745 horny words about daddy dom!joel

Lay Off The Flannels Joel gets handsy while your father temporarily steps away. [1.3k]

Thankful You're trying to prep for Thanksgiving dinner when Joel asks if he can pull you away for a minute. [1.8k]

Forget You're stressed, sad, and every painful emotion you can think of. Joel comes home, and you give him only one option in how he can comfort you. [less than 1k]

Use Me You tell Joel he can use you in an unconventional way. Will he take you up on your offer? [1.2k]

For Your Safety Your bladder forces you to disrupt your make out session with your boyfriend. Joel seeks out a different way to relieve you. [1.8k]

Just One You’re still worked up even though Joel’s tapped out for the night. Maybe you need a kiss to satisfy you—a simple, sweet kiss. Right? [less than 1k]

[joelmillerisapunk]

Beach Daddy III. I can do it with a broken heart

Rich daddy!Joel x F!reader

Series Masterlist • Masterlist

Wordcount: 12,532

Summary: After a day of emotional turmoil, you find solace in a chance encounter with Joel, who invites you to his secret deck.

Warnings: 18+, Joel and reader get closer, Todd does fuckboy things, reader really goes through it in this one, it's like a lil baby soap opera up in here for everyone.

Notes: Welcome, welcome, dear friends. Sorry this is so long. I never know where to end the chapters 😂 so I just add more. Your comments, asks, and reblogs are always so welcome! I appreciate everyone who's in this with me.

You walk out of Amorebelle with light pink clothing bags weighing down each arm, wearing a new outfit. You can't remember a time when you've gotten this many new clothes at once. You also find it hard to wrap your head around the fact that these clothes cost more than you make in an entire year.

The saleswomen Jane and McKenzie won't let you look at the price tags, but as they're ringing up your picks, you catch a glimpse of the total on the computer screen. You can't help but wonder how you'll ever be able to pay Joel back for this shopping trip. 

You also can't help but wonder how often he does this for women.

Jane, who's worked at the shop the longest, had recognized him when you walked in the door. You don't have time to contemplate this because you notice a maid you recognize from the yacht. She makes her way to you and starts relieving you of your bags. You make sure to keep the bag with your dress and shoes for the evening.

"Miss, I was told to take these to your room on the ship while you are at your appointment," the maid tells you.

"What appointment?" you ask her, confused.

"You have an appointment at the salon three stores up.”

"Did Joel set this up for me?" you ask, feeling even more surprised.

"Yes, ma'am," the maid says with a smile.

You're glad that the boutique you've been shopping in has a shower where you're able to rinse off before this appointment. They must be used to sandy beachgoers coming in right before a night out.

You make your way up the street and stop at the salon with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. From the outside, you can see the row of chairs, each in front of its own mirror.

You walk in, and the man at the front desk assures you that you do, in fact, have an appointment, full hair, and makeup, which is all prepaid.

The receptionist walks you back to your stylist, an attractive man whose hair color matches yours. "What do you have in mind today, sweetheart," your stylist asks you.

"I'm honestly not sure. Can I leave it up to you?" you ask.

"That's my favorite request," he says as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Your natural coloring is gorgeous, obviously, I am not going to touch that. So, I'm thinking a quick trim and a blowout."

He has your hair and makeup done within an hour, and you barely recognize yourself in the mirror. You're amazed that your hair is perfectly smooth, with not a single strand of frizz to be found. You gently run your fingers through your hair and can't believe how soft it is.

"What do you think?" the stylist asks you. He hands you a small mirror and turns you in the chair so you can get a better view of the back of your hair.

"Is this really my hair?" you ask, holding up the smaller mirror.

"Of course, sweetheart. You look amazing," he says with a smile.

"I didn't know I could love my hair this much.” You admit.

"So, go enjoy it!" he says with a huge smile.

"I will. I love it. Thank you so much," you say enthusiastically.

You walk out of the salon's front door in your midnight blue silk dress with shining hair, and you feel amazing. For the first time since the breakup, you feel like you can do a whole lot better than Todd.

"All I can say is wow," says Joel. He's been waiting for you outside of the salon.

"I hardly recognize myself," you say with a laugh.

"I wasn't commenting on the dress or your hair. I was impressed by your confidence. It looks good on you darlin," Joel says, looking you up and down unabashedly.

You feel your cheeks get hot. You don't understand how Joel always says exactly what you need to hear.

"But, I do have to admit I was right about that dress; it does look amazing on you," Joel says with a wink.

"I don't know how to thank you–" but Joel cuts you off before you can finish thanking him.

"Please, you don't need to finish what you were about to say. You deserved it. Simple as that."

"Okay," you say with a smile. "Well, then I just want you to know that today has been the best day I have had in a long time." You like that Joel isn't the kind of man who gives gifts because he likes the praise that follows.

"The restaurant is just a few blocks over. I can call for a ride," he says, pulling out his phone.

"Yeah, we could get a ride over," you say and grab his phone. "But, it's such a beautiful night; why don't we walk?" It is a beautiful night, but if you're being honest with yourself, you want to walk to soak up as much time alone with Joel as you can.

Joel smiles and offers you his arm. You notice his new suit jacket goes perfectly with your new dress. You bite your lip to keep yourself from asking if he picked it on purpose, but you secretly hope he had.

"This town is beautiful; I'm surprised that it isn't busier," you say, looking up at the bistro lights strung across the streets in a zig-zag pattern. The light is just barely fading, and the cool breeze catches the slit in your dress, making the end lightly flutter around your ankles as you walk.

"It is a well-kept secret," Joel says.

"For the rich and famous?" you ask.

"Well, kinda, but the locals who live here are what make this place so amazing. The restaurant we’re headed to has some of the best food I've ever eaten. But the chef is just a local man who perfected his art form. Never went to culinary school; just cooked because he loved it."

"How do you know all that about him?" you ask.

"My family has vacationed here for as long as I can remember. When I got tired of listening to my parents argue, I would go exploring the island. I’ve gotten to know a lot of the locals over the years," he explains.

You walk up to a building with a large illuminated sign reading The Coastal Hibiscus. The restaurant has a large deck area with a perfect view of the ocean. As you make your way up the front steps, you drop your hand from Joel's arm, not wanting Sarah to get the wrong idea.

You arrive at the restaurant last, finding the entire party already seated. As you enter, the conversation slows, and Todd's gaze locks onto you, a sense of satisfaction washing over you from the look on his face.

Only two seats remain, so you sit between Alison and Hudson. Joel takes a seat directly across from you, next to his daughter.

"I love that dress on you, by the way." Alison says with a little smile.

"Thanks," you reply as the waiter distributes menus.

"Where did you take off to? I haven't seen you since you went with Sarah's dad to find the dolphins," Alison asks.

"Oh, we never found them, so we just drove around for a long time looking for them," you lie, staring intently at the menu. You don't want to share the details of the intimate day you spent with Joel.

"That's too bad," Alison says, joining the group's conversation about where everyone plans to 'winter' that year.

You continue to look at your menu, overwhelmed by the number of choices. Finally, you look up to see Joel staring at you. You silently mouth 'What should I get?' across the table.

He smiles at you and mouths back 'The lobster.'

When the food arrives, you're grateful for his suggestion. His choice is amazing; the lobster is cooked so well that it feels like it melts in your mouth.

You sit peacefully sipping a glass of wine and listening to the group's conversation, stealing glances at Joel. The waiter brings around dessert menus, and you order a slice of cheesecake, one of your favorites.

A few minutes later, the waiter sets a piece of cheesecake in front of you, and placed delicately in the whipped cream is a stunning cushion cut diamond engagement ring. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart stops. As you try to make sense of what's happening, you hear Todd whisper angrily to the waiter, "No, not her!"

No one seems to notice the mix-up, and a few seconds later, the engagement ring cheesecake is placed in front of Sarah instead. Her small squeak alerts the rest of the table to what's going on.

"Sarah, will you make me the luckiest man in the world? Will you marry me," Todd says, down on one knee next to Sarah.

"Of course, I will." Sarah immediately answers. She jumps up and hugs Todd, all the while letting out ear-piercing squeals.

You look across the table and see Joel's eyes locked on you. Did he see them place the ring in front of you and your reaction to it? 

The restaurant feels like it's closing in around you. You have to get out. You quietly slide your chair away from the table, leaving your ringless cheesecake untouched, and walk out into the open air. You start walking toward the ocean; the water has turned from a vibrant blue to an ominous black. The glassy surface reflects the light of the moon, which sits alone in the sea of darkness. 

You continue walking, your feet aching in the heels, but to your relief, you recognize the yacht docked in a nearby marina. The crew must have sailed over to this marina to drop off the rest of the group while Joel and you were in the shops. So you make your way towards it. However, even before you reach the docks, the tears have already started falling down your face. You wipe them away quickly, not wanting to stain your new dress. The sound of footsteps behind you has you hurrying to the yacht. Whoever is following you, you do not want to speak to them–not now.

Not even if it's Joel.

—

 "Todd, I'm so glad we finally get to spend some time together. It seems like I barely get to see you anymore. I'm so sorry I've been so busy," you said, smiling at your fantastic boyfriend. You really missed him, but with graduation so close, you had to put all of your efforts into studying.

"I'm glad you finally found some time for me," Todd said in a flat tone. You guessed you deserved that, but the comment still stung.

"Where do you want to go eat? I heard there’s a great new sushi place just a few blocks over," you said, trying to switch the mood to a more positive one.

"Yeah, that works," Todd muttered as he pulled out his phone to send a text.

You started walking over, but you couldn't help but feel like something was off, and you relaxed as Todd's fingers locked with yours.

"So, how’s work going?" you asked. Todd had graduated with his Bachelor's degree the year before and started working for his dad's financial firm after that.

"It's been great. You would not believe some of the people I help with their investments. Every single one of them was a millionaire before they were thirty. That is going to be me; just you wait."

"I know you will be, Todd," you said as the hostess showed you to your table. "If anyone can make it happen, you will."

"It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife. Then, we'd become millionaires together," Todd said and smiled at you. He had always been so proud of the fact that you were working towards being a lawyer. You were so relieved that he recognized your time studying was for your future together.

The waiter walked over to your table and asked if you were ready to order. Todd ordered multiple plates of sushi, and then the waiter turned to you.

"I'll have an order of the California rolls and a water," you handed the menu back to the waiter and looked up to see Todd with a strange expression on his face.

"California rolls?" Todd asked as the waiter walked away.

"It's the best deal on the menu. I'm saving for my books. I don't know if I’ll be able to qualify for another loan," you said, slightly defensive. You knew Todd hated how cheap you were, but you had to be if you were going to be able to afford to put yourself through school. You knew he didn't understand; his dad paid for his education.

Todd pulled out his phone again and sent another text. You tried not to let it bother you; it was probably something for work.

You spent the rest of dinner talking about the different investments Todd was making on others' behalf and how one of his clients had just purchased their first private island.

"I'm going to run to the restroom before we head out," Todd said and got up, not realizing he had left his phone sitting face up on the table.

As soon as he walked away, his screen lit up with a text message. All you could see from where you sat was the contact name, 'Her.' Your heart sank.

The screen went black, and you took a deep breath. Todd walked back from the restroom, smiling at you.

"You ready to go?" he asked you as he made it to your table.

"Absolutely."

"Why don't we catch a movie?" Todd asked, grabbing your hand again as you walked out of the restaurant.

"Sure. What do you want to go see?”

—

You slam the door of your room and rest your back against it, catching your breath. You had to get away from whoever was following you out of the restaurant. You can't face anyone after witnessing Todd's engagement to someone else. You take a few minutes to catch your breath, and when a soft knock on the door vibrates your back, you ignore it. The person doesn't knock again.

Your dress clings to your sweaty body, and you want nothing more than to take it off. You slip off the midnight blue silk gown and drape it over the chair in front of the vanity. Noticing the pink garment bags already hung neatly in your closet, you secretly wish that you fit in this world, this world of money. But you know deep down that you don't.

You walk past all of the new clothes and throw back on your usual attire of shorts and a T-shirt; you can't get comfortable in the fancy clothes. You make your way over to your bed and throw yourself on the comforter. Burying your face in the pillow and let the tears come. You cry until your eyes burn. You sit up in bed and wonder where everything went wrong with Todd and you. You had truly been in love with him. You had planned a future together, and even though he never spoke directly of marrying you, you always assumed it would happen one day. So when the waiter placed his engagement ring in front of you perched on a pillow of whipped cream, it hurt even more.

Your roommate had been suspicious of Todd cheating on you for months before you read that text. You went on pretending your relationship was stable, even though deep down, you suspected him, too, especially after the incident at the sushi restaurant.

You didn't confront him about the text until weeks later. He denied everything at first, saying it was his father's receptionist. She was a bitter older woman who was not the kind of woman you wanted to cross. He put the receptionist in his phone as 'her' as a joke.

You knew he was lying, but you were okay to keep on pretending. That was until you caught him texting 'her' again, right in front of you. Then, you exploded, and you got into your worst fight. He finally came clean that it was a woman he met at your birthday party. 

He swore he wasn't cheating and that she was just a friend. You promised that you would work it out even if he was cheating on you, but he wasn't interested in that. He was no longer interested in you. He broke up with you the very next day.

With the memories replaying in your mind, you jump out of bed and run to the balcony. You breathe in quick gasps of the cold sea air. You just realized that you had invited Sarah to your birthday party. Todd had met her there, and they had been in contact ever since. Sarah told you that she'd been dating Todd for four months, but your birthday party was eight months ago. So Todd had been pursuing Sarah for eight months while he was still pretending to be faithful to you.

'It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife; then we'd become millionaires together.' Todd's words ring through your memories. He hadn't been talking about you becoming a lawyer and the two of you becoming wealthy together. He had been talking about marrying Sarah, an heiress. This had been his plan all along. 

This night of realization has your head hammering, and you need to calm down. So you walk back into your room, slip on your shoes, and walk out your door. You’re going to go out to the bar on the deck and make yourself a drink. The lights on the deck are already out, but you quickly realize you’re not there alone.

"Oh, Todd!" Sarah moans.

"You are so damn sexy!"

Two shadowy figures are pressed together in the pool, waves rippling around them, and you quickly realize you have just interrupted Sarah and Todd's after-engagement celebration. You immediately freeze on the spot.

Their moans grow louder, and you try to retreat before either of them sees you. Unfortunately, you don't notice the lounge chair behind you in the dark and topple over it in your rush to get away. You land flat on your back, and all the air is knocked out of your lungs.

"What the hell? Who's there?" Todd's voice yells behind you.

You pray it’s too dark for them to see or recognize you. Then, you start crawling back towards the door, and as soon as you think you are out of sight, you stand up quickly and run. Once you get through the door, you keep running down the hall, the tears stinging your eyes. You are humiliated, heartbroken, and defeated.

You get to a set of stairs and immediately start climbing as many floors as you can. You have to get as far away from the pool as possible. It’s  bad enough knowing Todd is sleeping with Sarah, possibly for eight months, but to see it first hand is too much.

You end up in front of an elevator, and just as you stop to catch your breath, the doors slide open.

"Hey darlin? Are you okay?"

It's Joel. All you want to do is to run into his arms and feel his warmth surround you. But instead, you simply nod and turn to walk away. How could you possibly explain what you just witnessed? Sarah is still his daughter.

"I don't believe you. Somethin’ is wrong. I came to check on you earlier.”

—

Joel hands you a glass of red wine, and you follow him out onto his private deck. The elevator has led up to his room, and Joel, noticing your state, invites you up.

You lean over the railing and swirl the wine in the glass.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Joel asks with a note of concern in his voice.

"Nothing happened; I was just tired," you reply.

"You were so tired that you ran all the way back to the yacht?" Joel asks, clearly not believing you.

You don't say anything and take a small sip of your wine.

"And in the hallway just now? You seemed pretty upset," Joel says.

"I promise, I'm fine, but thank you," you say, trying to muster up a small smile.

Joel does not look convinced, but he lets the topic go. You both stand looking over the ocean for a long time in complete silence. The yacht has left the small island, and so the waves are bubbling lazily behind the propellers.

"When do we make port again?" you ask, finally breaking the silence.

"Tomorrow," Joel replies.

"I’m gonna miss you, Joel," you say quietly.

"What are you talking about, darlin?" Joel says as his eyebrows knit together in concern.

"I'm going to catch a flight back to New York tomorrow.”

Joel stares at you for a long time after saying that you’ll be leaving when you get to port the next day. Or at least you hope you will be. You don't even know where you will be, let alone if there is an airport or a ticket home you can afford.

"I would really hate to see you go, darlin," Joel says with a serious look on his face.

"I think it's for the best," you answer softly.

"The best for you?" he asks. You stay quiet for a long time. Are you deciding what is best for you and/or running from your problems?

"I don't know… " you answer truthfully.

You take another small sip of the wine Joel had poured you and watch the liquid as you swirl it around in your glass.

"You know wine always tastes better in the sauna," Joel says, watching you.

You turn to him, "That does sound nice, but I’m sure the staff who work the spa have already gone to bed."

"Well, good thing the sauna is in my bathroom," he says as the corners of his mouth ease into a smile.

"You have a sauna in your bathroom?" you ask, impressed.

"Of course, so what do you say?"

"I'm not really dressed for a sauna," you gesture down to your shorts and T-shirt.

"I have a robe that you can borrow unless you'd rather go without." Joel winks and starts walking away to grab the robe.

"So what else do you have up here all to yourself?" you ask, liking the distraction from the mess of a night you've been through.

—

You walk through a large sitting room, a bedroom with the biggest bed you've ever seen, and then finally to the bathroom. Joel calling the tub in his bathroom a soaking tub is an understatement; it's more like a small swimming pool sunken in the middle of the floor.

"You can get changed here." Joel leads you into an extravagant walk-in closet, complete with a large vanity table and chaise lounge. He hangs a white cotton robe on a hook next to the door, making it the only garment in the empty closet. You realize Joel's room must include his and her's closets, but Joel has no use for this one.

You undress down to nothing and slip the buttery soft robe over your skin. You could live in this robe. There are definitely some amazing perks to being rich. You walk out of the closet, and Joel is waiting for you in a matching cotton robe.

"See, it's a perfect fit," he says.

"I don't even want to know how much one of these robes costs," you say. 

Joel laughs a little at your comment. "The sauna is through this door here," Joel says and pushes the door next to him open, holding it for you to enter first.

You don't know what you've been expecting when Joel had said he had a sauna in his bathroom, but the sauna you walk into is more than you could have ever imagined.

Every inch of the room is covered in light wood. The benches look as though they conform perfectly to your body and are accented with white pillows. The steam is warm and envelops you as soon as you walk into the room. However, the most breathtaking part of the sauna is the floor-to-ceiling window. It makes it feel like the sauna is open to the ocean itself, and the dark water reflecting the dim light of the room is extremely romantic.

"How do you ever leave?" you ask after a few speechless seconds.

Joel laughs again and takes a seat in the center of the bench, staring out into the dark water. You sit next to him and realize you might be too close, so you try to scoot away subtly.

"I don't bite, darlin."

You laugh awkwardly but remain close enough to feel the heat of his body next to yours. You close your eyes and try to let go of the evening. You think about watching the dolphins swimming in the cove while Joel sits next to you on the jet ski.

"You look like you're feeling a little better," Joel whispers.

"I am. This is exactly what I needed." You pause for a few seconds and add, "You keep saving me today."

"You've saved me on this trip too. Can I tell you a secret?" he asks, leaning in closer to you.

"Of course," you answer, and your heart starts beating faster.

"The rest of Sarah's friends drive me insane."

"That's your secret?" you bump his shoulder with yours. "That’s a really weak secret. They drive me insane too."

"If that’s not a secret, then tell me a better one," he says.

"What kind of secret?"

"Tell me why you’re leaving tomorrow?" he asks and looks into your eyes.

You pause, considering if you should tell him the truth, but he is getting Todd as a son-in-law. So you choose a different path.

"I can't afford to stay," you say finally. Taking Joel's silence as confusion, you elaborate, "I'm completely broke. I've put all of my money into school. I work as a bartender and live off of my tips and ramen noodles."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why that means you need to leave tomorrow," Joel says somberly.

That’s a fair point; Sarah and her father have paid for absolutely everything.  It isn't costing you anything to stay on this once-in-a-lifetime vacation. You need to come up with a reason to leave before he sees through the holes in your story.

"I have to get back to New York, get ready to move to Cambridge, and find a job there before the semester starts. I only have a few weeks of living costs saved up." This is partly true; you do need to do all of those things, but going back early would actually complicate things for you. You can't move into your new apartment in Cambridge until two weeks before the semester starts. So going back early would just mean you'd sit in your old apartment with nothing to do. Plus, if you went back early, you would have a few more weeks of expenses to take care of, and you already quit your job.

"What if I could help you find a new position in Cambridge?" Joel asks.

"What do you mean?" you ask, surprised.

"I have some connections in Cambridge; if I helped you get a few interviews, would you be able to stay longer?"

You can't find any words to respond. You've been really worried about what you would do for work when you got to Cambridge. You don't know anyone there and planned on spending the two weeks before the semester handing in resumes at different restaurants.

"You would do that for me?" you ask.

"Absolutely. I’ll make some calls in the morning. You don't have to stay, but I would enjoy your company if you did. The Bahamas are beautiful this time of year. I don't want you to miss it."

"Okay, I'll stay," you say quietly. "Thank you, Joel."

You can't believe this man's kindness to you. If it's important to Joel that you stay on the trip, then you will figure out how to deal with Todd and Sarah for a little while longer.

"I'm glad to hear it," he says with a smile.

The sky starts to lighten in the early morning hours, so you stand and tell him, "I should head back down to my own room and get some rest."

"Probably a good idea," he says and follows you out of the sauna.

You go back into the massive closet and change back into your clothes, hanging the robe back on the hook. You walk back out into the main room, and Joel is waiting for you, still in his robe.

"Let me walk you down."

"That's really okay. You’ve done so much for me already," you say.

"How long will you stay?"

"I'm not sure. At least another week." You smile at Joel and walk out the door.

***

Joel shuts the door behind you as you walk down the hall. He's relieved that he convinced you to stay for at least another week, but he knows there's something else that's the real cause for you being so upset tonight.

He knows that you're not part of Sarah's usual friend group, but after talking to you tonight, he's confused about how you're even friends at all. You clearly have big goals and work hard to see them happen. Sarah doesn't have any goals other than becoming an 'influencer.'

The thought of you working at every spare moment to put yourself through school makes his stomach twist at how badly he's spoiled Sarah. You deserve so much better than to be just scraping by. He would do anything he could to help you find something better. Hell, he would have offered to pay for your tuition, too, if he thought you would accept it.

Joel pulls out his phone and sends an email to the connection he has at a law firm in Cambridge. He's done some business with them in the past and figures it would be a much better fit for you than making people drinks. With how much business he's given the firm, he knows he can at least get you an interview.

On his home screen, there's a notification of a phone call from his financial advisor, Alester, that he missed while he was in the sauna with you. Alester never calls at this hour, so he knows something is wrong. Joel calls him back immediately, waiting impatiently to hear his voice on the other end.

“Joel, I am so sorry for the early hour," Alester says.

“No need to apologize; what's going on?" He asks urgently.

“I am afraid it is not good news.”

“Just tell me, Alester," he says, doing his best not to get impatient with the man. He's worked for Joel for years, and Joel trusts him with his life. There's an infuriatingly long pause on Alester's end. He sighs before he finally responds. “Blaine is back, sir."

***

The sun is streaming through the glass doors of the balcony as you finally open your eyes. Your head is pounding from a lack of sleep and caffeine. You want to order coffee up to your room, but you need to shower too badly to wait. After running all the way to the yacht and then sitting in the sauna with Joel, you are salty with dried sweat. You probably should have showered last night, but, after reaching your room in the early morning hours, you collapsed on the bed and had fallen asleep in your clothes.

You walk into the bathroom, expecting to look like a mess from all the events of the night, your clothes are extremely wrinkled, but you are surprised to see your hair still looks flawless. "I wish I could afford to get a blowout more often," you say to your reflection, pulling on a few strands as you admire the style.

You put your hair up and step into the hot water of the shower, washing off the previous day. You stand under the steaming water until you are getting a little dizzy from the heat. As you stand there, you can't help but think about Joel. He's been so kind to you, and you can't help but wonder if there's a chance he wants more from your relationship than what one would typically expect between a man and a friend of his daughter's. You shake your head. You can't allow yourself to think that way. Joel lives in a world you know nothing about. Not only is he much older than you, he is also Sarah's dad. Besides, he can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you?

Returning your thoughts to reality, you finish rinsing your hair and turn off the water. You wrap a towel around yourself, and make your way back into the bedroom to cool down.

The screen of your phone is illuminated, so you pick it up and lounge back on the bed. You have several notifications from the group chat between you and your roommates, Aubrey and Lin. You know you need to let them know what's going on.

Aubrey: Hey? Are you still alive? We haven't heard from you in days.

Lin: Maybe she finally found herself a rebound, and that’s why she’s too busy for us. My guess is a sexy pool boy!

You: Sorry, you two. Signal has been spotty. A sexy pool boy, Lin? Is that your guess or your fantasy?

Lin: I think a sexy pool boy should be everyone’s fantasy. ‘Pool boy, refresh my drink, and while you are at it, come rub me down with some tanning lotion.’

Aubrey: Lin, you’re the reason I can’t let Gianni read our group messages!

Lin: Sorry, we aren’t as lucky as you to have an amazing boyfriend who kisses the ground we walk on. Some of us have to use our imaginations.

You: I miss you two so much! I wish you were here with me.

Aubrey: How is everything going? Is the boat as big as we are imagining?

You: Honestly, it is probably bigger than you’re imagining. It’s not so much a boat as it is a super yacht. The bathroom in my room is as big as our entire apartment, and I’m just in a guest room. I have my own private balcony! Oh, and yesterday, I got to see a pod of dolphins!

Lin: Dolphins? How cool! I wish I had a rich friend who took me on expensive vacations.

You: Yeah, it sounds good in theory, but in reality, that rich friend was the one sleeping with my boyfriend for months.

Aubrey: Sarah was the one Todd was cheating on you with?! Why didn’t you lead with that?

You: Oh, that’s not even the worst part. Todd is here on the yacht too. We had already left port when I found out, so I’ve been stuck here with him.

Lin: No way! What the hell did that scumbag have to say for himself when he saw you?

You: Well, he pretended not to know who I am, and I went along with it.

Aubrey: I’m so sorry!

Lin: Why didn’t you call him out?

You: I probably should have, but I didn’t want to make things awkward. Like I said before, I am literally stuck on a boat with these people. Plus, Sarah clearly doesn’t know. I didn’t want to hurt her.

Aubrey: That makes sense. Maybe she will dump him before things get too serious.

You: Oh, one more thing, they got engaged at dinner last night. I had a front row seat for the entire thing. And then their after party.

Aubrey: Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you? I don’t know exactly how I would find you, but you know I would figure it out.

You: Thanks Aubrey, but I’m okay.

Lin: Shit, this is really messed up. What do you mean by ‘you had a front row seat to their after party?’

You: I walked out to the pool deck and caught them having sex in the pool. Then I tripped over a deck chair trying to get out of there.

Lin: Did they catch you?

You: I still don’t know. I really hope not. I don’t know how I would show my face in front of either of them again if they did.

Aubrey: How did Todd even meet Sarah? It’s not like your social circles mix very well.

You: I was thinking about that a lot last night. I am pretty sure that they met at my birthday party.

Lin: So you're telling me when we were all celebrating you, Todd was off hitting on someone else?

You: Pretty much. I’m realizing a lot about who Todd really is. I think his whole plan was to find someone rich. I was thinking about it last night. I remember that towards the end of our relationship, he made lots of comments about how poor I am.

Aubrey: You’re not poor! You’re a college student just trying to make it through school.

Lin: Isn’t Sarah the one who dropped out sophomore year to become an influencer?

You: Yes, that is Sarah. She does actually have a big social media following. And as you both know, she comes from a lot of money.

Lin: Well, that’s pretty easy when you can buy whatever you want and post pictures of yourself on your dad’s billion dollar yacht.

Aubrey: So how long until you get back?

You: I think I’m staying another week. We’re sailing to the Bahamas. I was told that we will make port tonight.

Lin: Well, that sounds amazing. Do you know what you’re going to be doing?

You: I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to ask Joel what has been planned.

Lin: Oh, who is Joel?

You: Joel is just a friend.

Aubrey: I’m glad to hear at least you’re making friends. Then you have a way to escape from Sarah and Todd.

Lin: Me too. Any pool boys?

You: Haha Lin! Very funny. No, I have not made friends with any of the pool boys.

Lin: Well, maybe you should. There is no better way to get over someone than getting under someone.

Aubrey: I hate to say it, but I agree with Lin. Go get some! There have to be some island hotties at one of your stops.

You: I can’t believe you two. I have to go. Someone is knocking at my door. I miss you two so much!

Chuckling at the antics of your two best friends, you set your phone down on the bedside table, smiling to yourself. It's good to know that you have at least two friends you can count on for anything.

You wrap your towel tight around you and check the peephole in the door, relieved to see a maid at your door and not someone else since you're not even dressed yet. You open the door and are surprised to see she's holding a tray and a box in her arms.

"Good morning, Miss," the maid says with a friendly smile on her face.

Confused, you return her smile but look suspiciously at the items she's holding. "Good morning. I think there may have been a mix-up. I didn't call down for anything."

"Don't worry. There was no mix-up," she assures you, taking a step through the open door. "Where would you like me to set this?" she asks.

You open the door wider and let her in to set the tray down on the table. She sets the box gently on the bed and turns to exit, still smiling at you.

"Do you know who sent this?" you ask, tracking the woman with your eyes as she steps away from the bed. However, she does not answer your question. Instead, she continues to proceed to the door with a small knowing smile on her face that makes you wonder what she knows that you don't.

"Have a good day, Miss," she says, giving a small head nod as she flashes you one last grin.

"Thank you," you say and close the door behind her.

You make your way over to the tray first. Lifting the cover, you find a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon and eggs. There's also a small pot of coffee and a fluffy pastry. Your mouth is already watering at the sight of the food, and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes and imagining how good it will all taste, but you replace the cover.

The anticipation for what the box could contain is too great.

The box is tied close with a red ribbon, so you untie it and set it to the side. You remove the lid to the box and are surprised to find a white cotton robe. Immediately, a smile crosses your face, and a small giggle of glee escapes your lips. There's a small handwritten note resting on top.

Darlin,

Please meet me on our secret deck later this evening. Enjoy some time to yourself.

P.S. I wanted you to be comfortable.

Sincerely,

Joel.

You set the card down on the nightstand, right next to the little pink seashell, and you slip on the robe. It's even softer than the night before, if that's possible, and it smells like sandalwood - It smells like Joel.

The clock reads 4:30 pm before you finally get out of bed and dress for the day. You pick out a form-fitting sundress with a delicate blue shell pattern along the hemline. It's one of the pieces that Joel purchased for you at Amorebelle. You aren't used to wearing dresses, but you want to look nice when you see him.

You carefully do your makeup at the vanity table in your bathroom. As you step back and look in the mirror, you are impressed with your own appearance; you look like you belong – almost.

You make your way to Joel's secret deck. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you get closer. You stop as you round the corner to the private location; all you can see is the back of Joel's head as he holds a phone to his ear. The muscles in his shoulders are tense, and you can tell by his low tone that the conversation is not a pleasant one.

"What do you mean he’s threatening to contact members of the family?" You hear Joel say. "He has demands now? What are his demands?"

There is a long pause after what Joel says, and you watch him running a hand through his hair; he seems to be on edge. He listens carefully to whoever he is talking to, and you consider turning around.

"We need to start protecting the family assets. I need you to review my father's will again and ensure it is airtight. He will not get a dime out of me."

You know you should turn around and give Joel privacy, but your curiosity gets the better of you when he starts talking about his family. You lean against the railing to wait, and it squeaks. It squeaks loudly.

Joel turns his head and gives you a small half-smile. He waves his hand, gesturing for you to come to join him. You hesitantly walk over, taking as much time as possible.

"I agree that's a good plan. Lock everything down, and let me know if we get any more calls from him. I'm counting on you, Alester. Don't let me down," Joel says. He hangs up the phone and sets it on the table next to the lounge chair he is sitting in. He sighs, turns to the laptop sitting next to him, and starts typing.

"Hey, I hope I am not interrupting anything," you say and slowly walk up to him.

"Darlin," Joel says as he closes the laptop and turns to face you. "You're not interrupting anything; I was just getting caught up on some work stuff."

"I just noticed you were on the phone, and I didn't want to interrupt a business call or something," you say, trying to explain why you were leaning against the railing and eavesdropping on his phone call.

"Oh, that wasn't business. I just needed to deal with some family issues," he says as he moves a white and blue striped towel and a bottle of tanning lotion off of the lounge chair next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and a natural smile finally mirrors in his eyes.

"I am because of you. Thank you so much for sending me breakfast, and that robe was amazing. I honestly can't remember the last time I let myself lay around in bed all day. I really enjoyed it," you say and sit as gracefully as you can manage in the lounge chair next to Joel.

"Good to hear. You deserved a day to relax like that. You don't need to thank me for the robe; after seeing you in it last night, I knew it belonged to you. It looked like it was made for you, so it was only right that I send it down to you," he says.

His words make your heart beat fast again, and your face flushes. You know you are getting too close to your friend's very handsome and single father than is wise. But, when he says things like that, it is hard not to.

You think about telling him the truth about why you were so upset, but you don't want to ruin the fun you're having together by unloading about your ex-boyfriend, who is about to be his son-in-law.

"So, are you excited to walk your daughter down the aisle?" you ask, quickly trying to change the subject, so you don't blurt out your history with Todd.

"Honestly, I'm not sure if I will walk Sarah down the aisle or if she will want her mom to," Joel answers.

His response surprises you, and it must show on your face because Joel continues with his explanation.

"I was only with Marnie, Sarah's mother, for a short time. Marnie got married to someone else shortly after and had Sarah. She believed that Sarah was biologically her husband's and not mine. I didn't even know Sarah existed. She had Sarah take a DNA test when she was ten; she was linked to some of the Miller family members who had also taken the test. Only then did we find out that Sarah was mine."

"I had no idea, Joel. Sarah never said anything about any of this," you say. You feel so sorry for all of them.

"When Marnie's husband died, she told Sarah and me the truth. However, Sarah had grown up with another man as her father, and I never wanted to try and fill his place in her life. So I never really took on that fatherly role with her. Instead, I bought her everything she ever asked me for, and that was the basis of our relationship for a long time."

You sit there staring at the pain in Joel's face for a while. He never takes his eyes off of the ocean but continues to tell you about his past.

"Over the years, we've tried to build our relationship, and I take her on vacation with me every summer, but we still don't have the typical relationship you would expect. At times, Marnie and I have a hard time getting along; we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. So I stayed back and let Marnie raise Sarah; in a lot of ways, I don't agree with how she raised her," Joel says with a sigh. "That's why you're all here. Sarah and I don't know how to talk to each other because we have nothing in common and barely any memories together. So dinner gets a little awkward without others to fill the silence," Joel says, seeming slightly embarrassed about admitting this.

"I had no idea. Sarah always made it sound like her life was so perfect."

"In all the ways Sarah measures her life, it has been," Joel says, but you aren't quite sure what he means by it.

A maid with a tray of tropical cocktails interrupts your conversation, and she sets the drinks on the table between Joel and you.

"Thank you, Molly, these look wonderful," Joel says.

"Of course, sir," Molly says with a small smile.

"How's your sister doing? I hope she's making a speedy recovery."

"She is, sir. She should be back on her feet again in no time."

"When we get back, you should make some time to go and see her. I'll tell Reggie to add some more PTO for you," Joel says.

"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate that," she says and turnsto leave.

As you observe the interaction between Joel and one of his staff members, you realize you've never seen him treat an employee poorly. However, Sarah snaps at them to get their attention, and you suspect she doesn't even know their names or anything about them. She doesn't even treat them like they're people. This explains why you never felt like you fit in with Sarah and her friends, but you feel comfortable and want to spend all your time with Joel. He doesn't look down on you for being poor, but Sarah does. The irony of it all is that the only one on the ship who knows exactly how poor you are, is Joel.

You stare at Joel, and when he finally meets your gaze, you can't help but smile at him. "Thank you for telling me all of this," you say.

"Thank you for listening," he responds simply.

"It seems like we're making a habit of telling each other all of our secrets," you say with a small giggle.

"I hope that continues."

"Me too," you answer.

"Sarah has another dinner planned on the upper deck. Can I walk you up?" Joel asks you.

"I'm actually feeling a little seasick, I don't think it would be wise for me to eat right now," you answer. You don't feel like spending another evening with Sarah and her new fiance.

"Do you need a doctor? We have a nurse on the yacht, but we'll be making port in just a few hours; I can call and have one meet us at the dock."

"No, I'm okay, really. I just need to go back and lie down."

"Okay, if you're sure. I'll walk you down to your room," Joel said, checking his watch.

"No, no. I'm fine, really."

"Okay," he says reluctantly, "but please use the intercom in your room if you need anything."

"I will, I promise," you say with a small wave and leave to slowly make your way back to your room.

You take your time moving through the ship. You don't want to run into anyone heading to Sarah's dinner, where the topic of conversation is sure to be all about her recent engagement.

You're relieved when you see that most of the hallways are completely empty, so you quickly start toward your room.

"Hey!"

You turn and see Reggie walking up behind you.

"Hey, Reggie. It's been a while," you say with a smile.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"I'm going back to my room. I wasn't really in the mood to spend dinner with everyone."

"Well, I was on my way to play some cards with some of the crew members. Why don't you come?"

Reggie must have seen the hesitation on your face. "Come on. It's actually fun to hang out with normal people every once in a while."

You laugh. You didn't realise that Reggie thought you were just as wealthy as the rest of Sarah's friends. "Reggie, I am a normal person. Let's go.”

—

Joel makes his way up to dinner alone, silently wishing you would be joining. You're one of the only ones in the group that he actually cares to have a conversation with. However, it might be for the best that you're not coming. Joel found himself always drawn to you, and if he wasn't careful, Sarah would catch on to his interest in her friend. He knows that would not go over well.

Joel's the last one to arrive, and he takes the only seat available next to Sarah's new fiance, Todd.

"I never got the chance to congratulate you on the engagement last night," Joel says as he shakes Todd's hand. "I rushed out because I had an urgent business matter I had to attend to."

Joel hoped that would adequately explain his quick departure the night before. He feels a little guilty that he didnt stay to celebrate and instead took off after you to make sure she was okay.

If he's being honest with himself, his evening spent with you, talking in the sauna, was much more enjoyable. He probably won't be winning any best dad of the year awards, though. He already smoothed things over with Sarah this morning. He showed up to her room with a pair of diamond earrings from Tiffany's. He'd bought them for her birthday, but they were perfect as a stand-in engagement present. Once he brought out the diamond, he didn't think she heard another word that he said. He’s happy to see that she’s wearing them tonight. She truly did look happy, and Joel prayed she would be in her marriage.

"Thank you so much, sir. I hope you approve of our engagement," Todd says.

Joel almost forgot that it was customary for a man to ask for his daughter's hand to get the father's approval of the marriage. "I think you two make a great couple. I'm looking forward to having you as part of the family, Todd," Joel says and then stands up. He taps his wine glass to get the group's attention. Everyone at the table quiets quickly and turns to him.

"I want to congratulate Sarah and Todd on their engagement. May they find happiness in each other and enjoy each other's company for many years to come." Sarah's friends all clap at this statement. Once the quiet returns he starts again. “As my engagement gift to the couple, I would like to throw you two an engagement party at my home here in the Bahamas."

This announcement receives a very excited response from all of Sarah's friends. Sarah's face is beaming at all of the attention she is getting. She smiles and stands up to make an announcement of her own. Joel notices she shakes her head gracefully from side to side, causing the earrings to catch the light. She is an expert at showing off wealth; no wonder she’s doing so well as an influencer.

“Thank you so much, Daddy! I'm so glad you approve, and an engagement party will be the perfect way to announce to the world that I'm about to be married. I am so excited about the upcoming wedding, and I would be honoured if all of you were part of our wedding party." Sarah is met with murmurs of agreement from the men and squeals of excitement from the women present. She sits down with a huge smile, clearly pleased with the group's reactions. “Daddy, can you hire some professional photographers for the engagement party? I need some really good pictures to post."

“Of course," Joel says.

“I wish we could have gotten some great shots of the actual engagement, but Todd didn't think about that part of it," Sarah says, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I told you it wasn't exactly planned. We had such an amazing day, and it just felt like the right time," Todd says defensively.

“I'm marrying a true romantic," Sarah says, resting her chin on Todd's shoulder.

“Is there anything else you two need?" Joel asks, trying his best to be supportive.

“I’ll need to pick one more bridesmaid so we have even numbers," Sarah says to Joel.

“Why not ask your old roomate?" Joel asks, confused as to why Sarah isn't planning on asking her most likable and attractive friend.

“Oh, I didn't notice that she wasn't here for my announcement. That sort of works out for the best, though. I’m going to ask someone different. She doesn't really fit into the vision I have for the wedding," Sarah says, sounding very much like a snob.

“And what exactly is your vision for the wedding?" Joel asks, annoyed with his daughter's uncouth response.

“I want everything to be glamorous," Sarah says as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'll still invite her, but as part of the wedding party, you have to fit the aesthetic."

“That's true; it's not like she would be comfortable with the level of finery at the wedding anyway. It’s very obvious that she’s lower class. I think our guests would be able to sense that. If she can't afford to buy a new dress for her birthday party, it's not likely that she will be able to afford a bridesmaid's dress anyway," Todd says with a smug smile on his face.

Sarah giggles and then turns to talk to the woman next to her about possible venues for the wedding.

“Didn't you just meet her this week?" Joel asks Joel in a low voice.

“Yeah, Sarah told me they went to college together or something," Todd says and takes a bite off his plate.

“Then how would you know she couldn't afford a new dress for her birthday party?" Joel says with quiet suspicion.

Todd's eyes go wide in shock, and he nearly chokes on the food in his mouth. He takes a few moments to recover and then says, “I think Sarah told me that. She went to her birthday, and she had to borrow a dress because she couldn't afford a new one."

Although Joel doesn't doubt that Sarah would gossip about something as petty as not being able to afford a new dress, he finds it odd that Todd would remember something like that. Todd's reaction tells Joel that he is hiding something, and Joel's suspicion is only increased by his quick shift to join Sarah's conversation.

Do you and Todd know each other outside of Sarah?

Joel eats the rest of his meal in silence and makes an excuse about having work to do to get out of the rest of the evening's activities. Instead of heading back to his room, he goes to the captain to tell him about the change of plans. 

After Joel's conversation with the captain, he makes his way to his office, which is located a floor below the guest rooms. He thinks about going and checking on you but decides it is best to let you get some sleep.

Joel's office on the yacht is a carbon copy of his office at home. It has a large wooden desk in the center and a large dark leather armchair. The only difference is the view is spectacularly better on the yacht. A large windowed balcony sits behind the desk, so Joel can watch the ocean as he works.

Joel sinks into his leather chair and opens the laptop on his desk. A notification glows on the screen, informing him of the one hundred and twenty-seven emails waiting in his inbox. He pulls out his phone instead and finds his event planner's phone number in his contacts.

“Hello, this is Jessica of Jessica's events."

“Jessica, this is Joel Miller."

“Mr. Miller, it’s great to hear from you again. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

“I'm calling to see if you can organize a party for me. My daughter just got engaged, and I want to throw her an engagement party at my home in the Bahamas."

“Congratulations, Mr. Miller. I would love to help plan such a happy occasion. When can I pencil in your event?"

“Two days from now," he says, knowing the absurdity of the request.

“Did I hear you right? You want me to plan an entire event in two days?"

“If anyone can do it, it's you, Jessica. I’m willing to pay double."

“You have always known how to close a deal. I will have everything ready for you, Mr. Miller. Does your daughter have a theme in mind?”

Joel hates that he has to say it out loud, “She said the theme of her wedding is…glamor."

He hears a small giggle escape from Jessica on the other end of the phone, and she quickly tries to cover it with a cough.

“I know how it sounds," Joel says, embarrassed. “That’s why I am trusting you with this event. I know you will make it tasteful. After the engagement party, I’ll have Sarah talk with you about wedding plans."

“That sounds great, Mr. Miller. I will see you in two days."

“Thank you very much. Goodbye," Joel says and hangs up the phone. This wedding is going to be expensive, and Joel already expects to foot the bill for everything. Extravagant is one thing, but Sarah's taste is beyond even that.

Joel turns his attention back to his laptop screen and the blinking email notification, but he can't get you out of his head. Instead of working, he pulls up his social media pages and searches for your name. He quickly finds your social media pages. You're not very active; most of your pictures are candid shots of you and your friends, two women that looke kind and a lot more down-to-earth than his own daughter.

Joels slightly disappointed that you don't have more pictures for him to scroll through and very little about your life. He wants to know more about you, but it seems like you're very private with your online presence.

He sighs and closes the social media pages, finally returning to the emails he’s dreading sorting through. The newest email in his inbox makes his heart sink. It's from an unknown sender and contains a single sentence.

I know who I really am, and the whole world will, too, if you don't meet my demands.

—

"I am a normal person," you say again, smiling as you walk with Reggie. He raises an eyebrow skeptically at you.

"You don't believe me?" you ask.

"Right, because us normal people get invited to one of the largest private yachts in the world as guests all the time. You don't have to pretend you're not rich to fit in with the crew. They will like you because you are actually nice," Reggie says.

"I am the furthest thing from rich," you laugh.

"Oh, yeah? Prove it," Reggie says with a teasing smile on his face.

You quickly pull out your phone and find a picture of you and your two roommates in your apartment and show it to Reggie.

"What does this prove?" he asks.

"This is a picture of me and my two roommates, Lin and Aubrey; we are sitting in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment. I’m a bartender at a little dive bar, and I currently have two hundred and thirty dollars in my bank account," you say matter of factly.

Reggie's expression changes from one of teasing to one of shock.

"Are you serious?" he asks.

"I mean, I can pull up a bank statement if you really want," you say with a smile.

"Then how did you end up as one of Sarah's friends?"

"Sarah and I were roommates during our first few years at NYU. I think Sarah was placed in the regular dorm rooms to teach her what it was like to be a regular person or something," you say, only half joking. You still haven't figured that one out. Maybe her dad was trying to teach her a life lesson. "Anyway, she hated it and dropped out her sophomore year, but we remained friends and have been in and out of touch over the years. She randomly invited me on this vacation, and I accepted. I didn't expect the yacht to be quite this big, though."

Once you are done with your explanation, you are on the lowest floor of the yacht. You're surprised at how nice the staff area is. Perhaps you'd been expecting it to be like a scene from the lower decks of the movie 'Titanic,' but the lowest level of the ship looks like walking into a lobby of a four-star hotel.

You make your way into what must be the staff dining room. There’s a large group of people surrounding a circular table in the middle of a game of cards. Music is playing in the background, and snacks and beer litter the table. It looks like this is going to be the most comfortable you've been on your trip so far.

"Everyone be nice; we have a newcomer," Reggie says as he pulls out a chair for you.

The mood changes slightly as you sit down, and Reggie sits next to you. You realize you’re still wearing the sundress that Joel bought you, and you must look like you are made of money.

"Hey, I'm Max," says a man with black hair and olive skin.

"Hey, Max," you stick your hand out to shake his and you introduce yourself. 

"Nice to meet you. Tell us about yourself."

"There isn't much to tell. I'm a bartender at a little hole-in-the-wall in New York, and I'm trying to put myself through law school," you say nonchalantly.

"What bar?" a girl across the table asks.

"It's called McGregor's."

"No way! I've been there before," Max says. “You have the best nachos!"

You laugh. “Yeah, we do. I would eat an entire plate by myself if no one were watching."

You feel the entire table relax as they all realize that you aren't like the rest of the guests on the yacht.

"What are we playing?" you ask, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"Strip Poker."

Your throat goes dry at the thought of undressing in front of a room full of strangers. You're afraid to swallow the piece of popcorn you just placed in your mouth. You look around, and everyone is still fully clothed, and your heart rate starts to slow. Max smiles, clearly finding enjoyment in your shock.

"Max, don't scare her off already," Reggie chuckles. “Do you want a beer?”

—

“You wouldn't believe what one of the 'Richies' asked me today,” Brenna says

"Oh, this is going to be good. Brenna always has the best stories," Reggie leans over and whispers to you. After a few beers and a hand or two of actual poker, everyone seems completely at ease with you.

"I was cleaning up a wine glass he'd dropped, and he started hitting on me. Obviously, he has no idea what the real world is like, so he starts asking questions as a way to talk to me."

"Oh no," Max says with a laugh.

"He asked me about living on the bottom deck of the yacht, and I tell him how it takes some getting used to because we are below the water down here. Then he asks me how we use our balconies if they're underwater."

You snort into your glass, glad you hadn't been taking a sip of the beer at the moment, or it would be flowing out of your nose. You set your beer down and ask, "Oh, please tell me you had a good comeback."

She smiles brightly, "I told him we could only use them at low tide. Then he nods and says, 'That makes sense.' I swear they are all clueless."

Brenna starts laughing, and the whole table joins in, but by the time you catch your breath, you have tears in the corners of your eyes. You have not laughed like this the entire time you've been on the ship.

"No offense; I know Sarah is your friend and all, but how do you stand spending time with them?" Max asks.

"Oh, trust me, it’s a challenge. I sneak off by myself whenever I get the chance. No one seems to really notice, especially after Sarah's engagement."

"Oh, man, her fiance is a real tool, isn't he?" Brenna adds.

"He's a social climber too, so they are actually a great fit," Charlotte says. Charlotte is one of the older staff members and hasn't said much throughout the night.

"Well, that makes sense about the fiance, but do you mean Sarah is one too?" Max asks.

They seem to have forgotten that you are there, or at least they forget that you know Sarah personally. However, you keep your mouth shut not because you want to know more, but because you are trying to act as if you don't care too much.

"I started working for Mr. Miller when Sarah and the horrible woman she has as a mother first came around. That same day, the staff was all told that Sarah was Mr. Miller's daughter and to make sure she had everything she needed. Marnie, Sarah's mother, spent the whole day ordering the staff around like she was the owner of the house," said Charlotte.

"From my experience with Marnie, that sounds about right," Max offers.

"Sarah was raised by another man by the name of Winston Radcliff. Some of the staff had been around when Mr. Miller first brought Marnie around. The rumor was that Marnie threw Mr. Miller aside for Radcliff right after she found out she was pregnant because Radcliff could offer her a better position in society."

You can't imagine someone who had the chance to be with Joel choosing another person over him. You can't help but ask, "What did Winston offer that Joel couldn't?"

"Radcliff was the next in line for an earldom. It turned out that the earldom came with a shabby little estate that cost Winston his fortune to keep standing. The marriage quickly turned sour, and when the earl died, Marnie was just as quick to get a paternity test for Sarah."

"In my opinion, Mr. Miller was better off not knowing the truth. Marnie always shows up asking for more money. Sarah has always wanted something, even though Mr. Miller buys her more than she could ever need." Charlotte says.

"Was Joel in love with Marnie?" you ask, not knowing if you really want the answer.

"No, I don't think he ever really loved her. Maybe he could have found a woman right for him if Marnie hadn't been around for the last fourteen years, scaring away every decent woman he has dated. She thinks that if she can keep him single long enough, he will fall back in love with her, but Mr. Miller will never forgive her for what she did."

You nod and turn to see Reggie staring at you with a strange, almost hurt look on his face. He turns away from you before you can ask him what's wrong.

"Well, I think I'm going to head to bed," Brenna says, and the others all stand up to follow.

"You should come play cards with us again," Max says.

"Absolutely! We are here every night, and you are welcome to join us," Brenna adds.

"Thank you. I will." You're happy to know they've welcomed you as one of them.

You say a quick goodnight to everyone and head back up the stairs to the upper decks. Reggie's room is on the lower deck, so you walk by yourself. It must be later than you thought because the lights in the pool area are already turned off.

You feel silly rushing across the dark deck, but it makes you sort of nervous being alone on such a big ship. You're careful to avoid the deck chairs this time, and you're relieved to make it to the doors leading into the guestroom corridor.

"Where the hell have you been?"

You stop dead in your tracks and don't want to turn around. You know that tone of voice from countless arguments. It's Todd, the last person on the entire ship that you want to be alone with. You slowly turn, knowing you're going to have to face him eventually.

He stumbles a step towards you, and you back up to avoid a collision if he falls.

"Are you drunk?"

"I believe I asked a question first," Todd stutters.

"I was playing a game of cards with some of the crew."

Todd laughs and rolls his eyes at you. He again stumbles a little closer, and you're trapped between him and your door. He leans forward and places an arm on either side of you, blocking your escape. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he laughs. He's beyond drunk.

"Just like you. A yacht full of every thing you could want, and you spend your time with the help."

"Get off of me, Todd!"

"You know you still want me," Todd says, lowering his face closer to yours. You push against his chest, trying to get him off.

Todd is suddenly ripped backward, so forcefully you know it wasn't of his own doing. 

You see Joel standing behind Todd with a fist full of his shirt. “Get your ass to bed before I throw you off my ship."

[lam-ila]

Sharpest Tool || Carlos Sainz

Summary: Inspired by Sharpest Tool by Sabrina Carpenter. You admit your issues with your on again off again relationship with Carlos.

Continue Reading: part one, part two

Word Count: 1,590

Warnings: a few swears and an argument between reader and Carlos

please let me know if you find more that i should add

F1 Masterlist

a/n: thank you mel for helping me figure out the ending to this! i had two options and i very much like the one she chose better (which is the one that's in this fic haha)

this is gender neutral. hope you enjoy this! feedback is appreciated

LIKES ARE GREAT, REBLOGS ARE BETTER ♡

You and Carlos were… well you didn’t know. You acted like a couple, you did things like a couple, but you weren’t. You met the whole F1 family, meeting Lando, Charles, and even little Leo Leclerc. You went to a few F1 races in the 2024 season so far, the highlight being the Australian Grand Prix.

The race was just perfect for you and Carlos, and the post-race events were also just perfect. People assumed you were a couple, you felt like a couple, until media day of the Japanese Grand Prix when Carlos stopped texting you.

You two continued like that; sometimes you acted like a couple, you went to his races, then he stopped texting you. You constantly second guessed yourself and your romantic moments with Carlos, but you found yourself going back to himself every time.

You were in one of those times where you and Carlos weren’t talking to each other. You went to the Belgian Grand Prix, then summer break arrived and you hadn’t heard a peep from him. He was all you could think about, even while you sat at your desk at work on a random Tuesday.

Standing up to go on your lunch break, you grabbed your phone and tapped on the screen to check your notifications. You were about to put your phone in your back pocket when your eyes got caught on a text from Carlos.

You rolled your eyes at the soft ‘hey’ he sent, then noticed another text from him asking you if you wanted to go to one of his upcoming races. You quietly scoffed and shoved your phone in your back pocket, walking away from your desk to go on your lunch break.

You were furious. Carlos ignored you for a week and then casually asks you to go to his race? You weren’t sure how to respond. Just ignore him back? Text something snippy? Block him? Answer and say yes?

No. You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. You told yourself you wouldn’t agree to spending more time with Carlos if he asked again. But you wanted to so badly. You craved his touch, his kisses, his romantic gestures, but you knew it would only end in heartbreak, just like it always did.

You busied yourself with your work for the rest of the day, completely engulfing your mind into it to only thinking about it. You hadn’t thought about the texts that were sent to you by Carlos until later that day when you returned home from work. You crashed onto your couch after changing out of your work clothes and as you were about to open a text from one of your friends, your eyes glanced down at the still unopened texts from him.

You stared at it for a few minutes, contemplating everything about those texts and how you should respond, or even if you should respond.

You know what? Fuck it. You only live once, right?

You opened the texts, immediately bringing up the keyboard and typing ‘i’d love to! i’ll let my work know so i can get a few days off’. You quickly pressed send and turned the screen off before you could give yourself a chance to back out and delete the text. You squeezed your eyes shut, the small amount of time before receiving a text back feeling like hours. Your eyes opened once you felt your phone vibrate due to Carlos’ text that read ‘great! let me know when you find out cariño’.

—————

You managed to get a few days off of work and Carlos flew you out to Zandvoort for the Dutch Grand Prix. He greeted you as you got off the plane with his signature smile and you couldn't help but smile back. You felt like an idiot smiling at his stupid smile and admiring his stupid hair and running into his stupid arms for a hug as he kissed you on the top of your head with his stupid lips. His lips travelled down, pressing a kiss against your forehead, then one against your cheek, then you angled your head to press your own lips against his.

And then there was his stupid voice. Once you parted, with your nose nuzzled against his, Carlos mumbled a low "I missed you, cariño." You leaned forward to capture his lips in another kiss, humming into the kiss in agreement.

The rest of that day was euphoric; you and Carlos spent the entire time in his hotel room and ordered room service, watched tv, cuddled, and soaked the presence of each other in. You woke up the next day limbs tangled with Carlos' and light peaking through the curtains. You both groggily got up after a few minutes of laying in bed together, simultaneously getting ready for media day and taking a few seconds out of your routines every now and then to press your lips together in short, but passionate kisses.

You went through media day acting like a couple, just as you had many times before, but at the end of the day when you entered Carlos' hotel room for the night, you broke. You couldn't act like everything was okay anymore.

"What are we?" you asked Carlos the minute after you took your shoes off upon entering the hotel room.

"What do you mean?" Carlos rebutted, stepping closer to you to meet you in a kiss. Knowing what he was about to do, you placed your hand flat against his chest, stopping him in his tracks about one step away from you.

"This isn't normal, Carlos." You kept eye contact with him, trying to portray your sincerity in your words. He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "You're lying to yourself if you think we're fine. You know you are." Carlos took your hand off of his chest, holding it in between the both of you and despite how much you knew you shouldn't let him hold it, you let him do so.

"Cariño, you confuse me." You abruptly pulled your hand out of his at his words, take a step back from his to increase the distance between the two of you.

"That's just it!” You started to pace around the area in between the door and the bed you shared with Carlos the night before. “You're either blissfully ignorant or you actually don't realize anything's wrong because we never talk about it!"

“Cariño-”

“Stop calling me that!” You quickly turned on your heel to pointedly look at Carlos. He looked at you, mouth slightly parted in shock, as you stood in front of him, breathing heavily.

"Okay," Carlos cautiously began, not wanting to provoke you even more. "I'll stop calling you that. But I thought you liked when I called you that?"

"I did. But fuck, I'm such an idiot because this has all just been casual for you, right?" you continued before Carlos could answer your question. "Just a casual little on again off again fling. But this has been everything to me. My life has revolved around you. I've used up so many of my vacation days to be at your races. I've cried myself to sleep because of the multiple times you stopped talking to me. I've never been happier while knowing you, but I've also never been in a worse state of mind while knowing you."

You stopped after spewing out your little monologue, waiting for Carlos to respond. You stood in silence for a few minutes, staring at each other in shock.

"I'm done," you stated after Carlos didn't say anything. "I'm done with all of this, whatever this even was." You started to collect your belongings from around the hotel room, refusing to look at Carlos because you knew you'd fall back into his arms if you looked at him.

"Let me at least get you on a flight home," Carlos finally spoke up.

"Fine."

"And text me when you get home. Please. I need to know that you get home safe." He pleaded, eyes not wavering from you hurriedly moving across the room.

"Why?" You stopped in your tracks, still facing away from him.

Because I really do love you.

"You're not going to like the answer."

"Fair enough." You shrugged, leaning down to pick up your bag and shoving your belongings into it. "I'll be waiting in the lobby until you find a flight for me." Walking past Carlos towards the door without sparing another glance at him, you put on your shoes and hovered your hand above the door nob, giving him one last chance to say something.

"Go," Carlos softly lamented. "I'll text you the information once I book one for you. You won't even have to see me."

You left the room without saying another word, slowly and quietly closing the door behind you to avoid anyone in the neighbouring rooms from hearing a loud slam.

Instead of immediately starting to find a flight for you, Carlos sank down into the desk chair that sat next to the bed. His head fell into his hands as he mentally beat himself up. How did he screw up this bad? How did he lose you?

He glanced towards the closed door, debating whether or not he should run down to the lobby to beg for you back. But he didn't, despite how much he wanted to. He couldn't do that to you after everything he put you through.

Maybe he'd earn your forgiveness one day.

——————————

F1 Taglist: @2manytabsopen @matthewkniesys @fallinallincurls @c-losur3 @sof1shticated

join my taglist here!

[vividraft]

physical contact head cannons ! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

⇢ ˗ˏˋ characters: Yinlin, Rover (female), Jinhsi, Calcharo, Aalto, Rover (male), Jiyan, Mortefi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ readers gender not specified !

⇢ ˗ˏˋ important note: Mortefi might be a little ooc, I forced myself to write for him for you guys... also none of my posts are proofread or anything the like

⇢ ˗ˏˋ a/n: thank you for all the likes and reblogs on the previous post! I really didn't expect that much support on my first post ever!

masterlist

Yinlin: 

In all honesty, Yinlin is not that big of a cuddling person

Sure she hugs you, but she is more the kind of person to have you lay your head down on her lap, or the other way around

also big on holding hands

like very big on holding hands

will drag you around anywhere, holding your hand clinging onto it like her life depends on it

also forehead kisses omll

kiss here kiss there kiss on top of your head

if she is taller than you, os that she has to bend down to give you a kiss on the lips, she will make you ask for one

she just likes to hear that you like her kisses okay

Rover (female):

she plays with your hair

anywhere and everywhere there is a hand in your hair

or head pats SHE IS HUGE ON HEAD PATS

she is kind of really protective of you, so hand holding as well to make sure you don’t get lost

when you guys are sitting down somewhere she always has her head on your shoulder

she crawls your back. Yes she does, let me dream. 

imagine you and her sitting somewhere in Jinzhou at night, her head on your shoulder and a hand traveling (rovering) over your back AAA

she is attached to you, because she loves you, and she is scared of ending up alone so how bout y’all glue each other together

Jinhsi: 

let’s face it, she doesn’t know how to initiate any physical contact

and she is scared of making you uncomfortable

except for, once again, holding hands

she loves to hold your hand as a reminder that you’re still there

but other than that you’re going to have to initiate the physical contact

don’t get me wrong, she definitely wants to hug your or so, but she is just kind of scared

she very clearly remembers the first time you hugged her from behind, and ever since, she started doing it too

very rarely has a chance to relax, so cuddling is going to be an utterly rare occasion

you guys basically live off of kisses on the cheeks from each other

Calcharo: 

does NOT hug you. or touch you. 

I am not kidding at the start of your relationship it’s like he’s allergic to you (omg guys should I write an enemies to lovers calcharo fic??)

you have to start all the physical contact in your relationship

when you at first hug him, he is STIFF AS A BOARD. 

he does not move away, and does not say anything. Just stands there like he was frozen

also your first kiss with him AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

you were contemplating if you should do it at all, but you just ended up giving him a kiss on the cheek

he did start blushing, and he couldn’t even look at you. He also didn’t say anything. No reaction whatsoever and you even thought he was mad at you

until he gave you a kiss on the cheek as well and that was basically the beginning of physical touch being normalized for you two

Aalto: 

IS IN FACT GLUED TO YOU

does not let go of you, unless he absolutely has to 

always has like an arm around your waist

also absolutely, 100%, definitely, shows you off

you’re his most prized possession, what can I say? 

he definitely give you piggy back rides. He started doing it with encore, and now he is giving them to you as well

he has this random habit of placing his hand on your back, when he wants to keep moving 

he probably cannot sit still, UNLESS, you fall asleep in his arms or so

bro turns into a statue, and you have the best sleep of your entire life

Rover (male): 

not as protective as female rover, but still always has an eye on you

both of them hold your hand, argue with the wall

also likes to put his hand around you, and on your shoulder

can I please say that he definitely hugs you a lot 

like A LOT

also the moment you show signs of being even slightly exhausted from anything, he hoists you up into his arms and you’re being carried

and you can’t even talk him out of it

does it count as affectionate physical contact if he gives you boosts, so that you don’t have to climb as much? 

the princess treatment is unreal

Jiyan: 

he is always on the go, there is barely any time for physical contact

kisses on the lips are mandatory and there is no way around them

not like anybody would want to skip a kiss on the lips from Jiyan

if you guys are sleeping in one bed together, he is clinging to you

like you’re a teddybear

I’m so serious when I tell you that you cannot get out of his grip when he is cuddling with you

also carries you bridal style, whenever he is given the chance

HUGS FROM BEHIND AND KISSES ON THE BACK OF YOUR KNECK

also he buries his face in the crook of you neck

Mortefi: 

also does not touch you

almost kind of refuses to

the first time that you give him a hug, he is literally APPALLED. 

like who dares to enter my personal space??? (everyone who is in a two meter distance of him enters his personal space apparently) 

he brushes that hug off and pretends it doesn’t happen

until he starts thinking about that hug. A lot. 

and then one day when you hug him again, he even pats you (kind of awkwardly) on the back! 

but it’s not like he would ever ask for a hug from you… or a kiss…

until he does.

[rafedarling]

𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧

pairing: drew starkey x reader

summary: back to the 1980s era, in a quiet corner of southern italy, you and drew find solace in each other’s company on a rainy evening. the two of you sit by the pool, with “downtown” by triathalon playing on an old radio. you, with your red lipstick and nightgown, enjoy a cigarette while drew swims languidly in the pool. the conversation between you unfolds softly, revealing the deep connection and unspoken emotions shared between you. | word count: 615 (small drabble 🫣)

warning(s): english is not my native language. contains smoking, reflective conversations, and a tranquil, nostalgic atmosphere filled with tender moments.

au: like, reblog and comment are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @mileyraes @xoxohoneymoongirl @enjoymyloves @tracymbcm @rubixgsworld @akobx @maybankslover @nemesyaaa

“Do you think the rain will ever stop?” Drew’s voice drifted from the pool, soft and contemplative, as he floated on his back, his eyes fixed on the cloudy sky above.

You took a slow drag from your cigarette, savoring the familiar taste. The rain was a steady drizzle, tapping gently against the surface of the pool and mixing with the dreamy melody of “DOWNTOWN” playing from the old radio.

“I don’t know,” you replied, your voice calm and unhurried. “But I kind of like it… the rain, I mean.”

Drew turned his head to look at you, his lips curving into a lazy smile. “You like everything, don’t you? The rain, the quiet, the music…” He let his voice trail off, his tone filled with a kind of admiration.

You shrugged lightly, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you exhaled the smoke. “What’s not to like? It’s peaceful. Feels like the world slows down, like we’re the only ones here.”

“Yeah,” Drew murmured, his gaze lingering on you. He swam closer, resting his arms on the pool’s edge beside where you sat. “And you… you look like you belong in a painting, you know that?”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, though you played it off with a small laugh. “You’re always saying things like that. I’m just sitting here, Drew.”

He shook his head, droplets of water trickling down his face. “No, it’s more than that. The way the rain falls around you, the way you sit there with your red lips and your nightgown…” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “It’s like you’re part of this place, part of the moment. I can’t look away.”

His sincerity caught you off guard, making your heart beat a little faster. You glanced away, focusing on the faint glow of your cigarette as it burned down. “You always know how to make something simple sound like poetry.”

“Maybe that’s because you make the simple things feel special,” Drew replied quietly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, with the rain running down his face and that earnest expression in his eyes. There was something about the way he was watching you, something deeper than just the words he was saying. You could feel the weight of it, the unspoken connection between you, humming softly like the music in the background.

You leaned down a little closer, a smirk on your lips. “You’re not just trying to distract me from your bad swimming, are you?”

Drew laughed, the sound rich and warm, cutting through the quiet. “Hey, I’m not that bad! But if it means I get to hear you laugh, maybe I’ll take the blame.”

You shook your head, grinning as you flicked the ash from your cigarette. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he conceded, still smiling as he propped his chin on his arms, staring up at you with that same, soft look. “But at least I’m good company, right?”

You felt your chest tighten slightly, a warmth spreading through you despite the coolness of the rain. “The best,” you admitted softly, feeling the truth of it settle between you.

The song on the radio faded out, the last notes lingering in the air, and you both sat there in comfortable silence, the rain and the quiet stretching out the moment.

Drew reached out and gently took your hand in his, the touch warm and grounding, and you knew that in this quiet corner of the world, with the rain falling around you and the echoes of music in the air, you’d found something rare and beautiful.

[hischeapcigar]

𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓌𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓈 

Pre-outbreak Joel Miller x reader

Part: 1 2 3 4

Summary: you're falling in love with the person your dad hates the most 

Word count: 3.6k ish

Warning: none except your father is a bit deranged so maybe that's all

a/n: it was supposed to be cute little one shot but i think it's gonna be series lolol. reblogs and comments are appreciated. love you mwah

Your dad hated Joel. You never knew why but it had been like this as far as you could think. Your father played the major role in trying his best to keep you away from Joel.  

BBQ party? Everyone's invited except Joel. 

Your birthday? Everyone but Joel 

He’s grumpy all day? Must've had an interaction with Joel  

He even hit Joel, who obviously retaliated but the neighbors showed up to resolve the matter.  

The whole neighborhood knew. How could they not? Your dad insulted him behind his back, which some entertained, but most of them grumbled and left the room. Because they knew Joel and they knew your dad too.  

Even you felt pity for Joel, the few rare interactions told you he may look big and fierce, but he was a charmer. Sarah’s happy face was proof of his kind nature and your anxious state of mind was a reflection of your dad’s nature.  

You once tried to defend Joel, but your father smashed the glass so hard, a sharp piece pierced the skin of your foot, leaving a scar. 

 Your parents always change the subject every time you try to bring it up,  

“Its past, it doesn’t matter,” they’d say 

But it mattered to you, a lot. Since the small get-together in the field the other night, when you first saw him. Sarah had lost track of his father, so you went looking for him with her, and that's when you first met him properly after like forever. 

Eyes locked and you swore brown became your favorite color. Your breath hitched; mouth slightly agape. He mirrored your reaction but both of you let go just as quickly, minding Sarah’s presence. They left but he turned back to bless his eyes one more time, stealing one more glance at you. The smile he slipped, held your heart forever. You prayed to the heavens to let you both meet again. 

- 

 Working in the cafe which Sarah and her friends called their “second home”, you had befriended all those little girls. It was fun to be around them, and they loved your company. 

 You never officially met any of their parents but one of them captured your mind since that night. You didn't know what you could do without offending Sarah.  

But you didn't have to do anything, because Joel took the wheel as he showed up the next day in the cafe. Sunday meant Sarah and her friends were having breakfast together in their corner spot.  

 You came out from the kitchen, passing the tray of coffee to your coworker as you absentmindedly made your way to the counter, ruffling around with the drawer and all the papers.  

“Hey” your head shot up to the sound of the voice and the unmistakable familiarity it carried.  

“Hi” you replied breathlessly, hands frozen on the paper you just grabbed.  

“Um, can I please get a pancake?” his thick Texan accent flowed like honey, his eyes warm and eager. 

“Y-yeah, sure,” you could bet that you conjured him from your imaginations. Seeing him again in a person in less than a week was unbelievable 

You quickly turned around to pass the order to the kitchen window but stopped just as quick, lightly smacking your forehead as you returned to him,  

“Sorry, uh, which flavor would you like?” you cursed yourself for being so clumsy  

He tilted his head to the side, contemplating, before he turned on his good old charm, “su’prise me, sweetheart,” he smirked seeing the look on your face.  

Absolutely flustered at the nickname he just gave you, and how easily it rolled off his tongue.  

You smiled, mumbling a little, “okay,” before you disappeared in the back  

You took a moment, taking a deep breath steadying yourself. Hoping no one notices your flushed cheeks, and no one did.  

In a few minutes, you prepared yourself to serve him. Running a hand on your outfit once smoothing it, you took the tray and made your way to Joel. You were glad he busied himself reading a magazine because if he looked at you, you would have forgotten how to walk.  

“Hello again,” you announced, and he quickly abandoned whatever article he was reading,  

“Hey” he smiled, looking curiously at the pancake plate you just put down, followed by a cup of coffee 

“I didn’t order coffee-” 

“It's on the house, since we believe it's your first time and because your daughter is our loyal customer,” you snickered  

He chuckled, “I- thank you, so much, y’didn’t have to though”  

“Also, i chose strawberry flavor because it’s my favorite so I'm hoping you’d like it too,” you shrugged lightly before taking a step back, leaving him with his breakfast,  

Just as you turned to leave, you heard him call your name, and God that was the sweetest music to your ears. You had no idea how he knew your name, maybe sarah mentioned it, you figured 

You cocked an eyebrow,  

“You looked pretty that night”  

Your heart warmed at the confession, “thank you Joel, you looked great too” you smiled before you left 

- 

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him. Every now and then your gaze found its way to Joel. Even after he caught you stealing glances, he just smirked. He knew what he was doing to you, you knew what you were doing to him. A game for two.  

You had your back on the counter, conversing with your coworker, when she pointed behind you. You turned to see Joel standing there, ready to leave.  

“Thank you once again, I loved the pancake, though I can’t tell if it's my favorite”  

“You could come by every week to try all the flavors until you find your preference” you suggested. Any excuse to bring him back.  

“Tryin’ all the flavors, huh? I had another reasons to come back anyway, might as well try all the other flavors” smile tugging at the corner of his smile 

Oh.  

Oh.  

You didn’t even get the chance to response when he added, “hey ya mind, if y’get the uh, the cup?” he nodded to his table 

“Yeah, sure” you were confused, why would he tell you what to do? 

You went anyway and now you know why as you looked at the tissue piece with his number scribbled in a messy handwriting  

Such a flirt. You smiled so widely your jaw hurt.  

- 

“Is this Joel or some cute stranger left a wrong phone number on the table?”  

You read it for the thousandth time, indecisive if you should send it or is it a bold way to start a conversation. But then it’s Joel, he wouldn’t mind, you thought and hit send.  

Your heart was beating fast, wanting to throw your phone across the room. Checking every other second if he replied, then a few minutes later,  

J- “Stranger? I thought we were befriendin' each other”

you giggled at the response, feeling like a young teenager having her crush moment 

“Well, we’re getting there”  

J- “That so? Hope you realize your dad isn’t really my fan”  

 

“Yes, and I wonder why” curiosity creeping back up at you, 

J- “We got into a fight back then during a job we did, since then we just couldn’t get along”  

Now was that too hard to disclose? Your parents were just dramatic, you thought. 

Before typing your response, he started typing again so you waited,  

J- “Wish it doesn’t change our sweet journey of becoming friends”

you read his text, wide grin plastered on your face , though a little disappointed that he only wants friendship, but you felt giddy nevertheless 

- 

The next week was the beginning of your new, fragile relationship. Joel would stop by at your cafe any chance he got.  

I missed my morning coffee (he missed it on purpose) 

I’m tired and I thought coffee might help (he just wanted to see you)  

Sarah and her friends wanted pancakes (he asked them, “you guys don’t have to go, I'll get you your order if you want” he’d say and gets “okay, Mr. Miller!” “that’s so kind, Mr. Miller”) 

Weeks went by, and you grew to his presence at random hours. You started to look forward to him showing up randomly. Your coworkers were quick to welcome him, noticing how your face would light up every time he was around.  

He made a three-day streak of visiting before he didn’t show up for 2 days. A part of you wanted to text him to find out if he was okay, but you wanted to give it one more day, and you were not even sure about the thing you both had going on. 

- 

  You were preparing the order, Oliver standing next to you, working on his order and occasionally making you laugh with his corny jokes when Gina, another coworker, showed up at your side, pulling you away from your half-done coffee,  

“I’ll take it from here, go and deal with your favorite customer” she nudged your side, 

You couldn’t help but let the smile make its way to grace your lips, but you had to play dumb, 

“What?”  

Gina gave you the stare that said really?  

You snickered as you left, your heartbeat quickening, exhaustion already leaving your body as you saw him sitting at his usual spot, the corner table that nobody likes, so it’s always available, your favorite spot since him. 

You reached him and instead of staying seated as usual, he got up and walked closer to you. It has been 2 days and you didn't know how much you missed him now that he was standing in front of you, all you wanted was to hug him and never let him out of your sight.  

He took one more step towards you, maintaining eye contact as he slowly raised his hand to your waist and pulled you into him in one swift motion. You stiffened at first, then you locked your arms at his nape melting into his big frame. You took a deep breath like this was something you were missing all your life. 

“Hello to my favorite customer,” you smiled at him when you detached yourselves from each other 

“Hello to you too, my sunshine,” he replied, matching your smile 

You both returned to the table, and he slid a small bag towards you, you didn’t have to open to know what was inside, strawberries, as he started getting you those ever since you told him that strawberries were your favorite. 

- 

Whenever you got free from your morning shift, you two would sit in the reserved area of the cafe just to talk. That’s what you both did. Talk about everything and anything. You didn’t need to pretend, you were completely yourself around him, and he, with you.  

He kept buying you strawberries because you loved them. And in turn you would treat him with extra cup of coffee on random days 

Any little time you spent together felt like an escape from reality and everything it offered. There was no toxicity, just pure, innocent and effortless conversations along with different flavors of pancakes.  

Sarah admired Joel showing interest in your company. She wasn’t young enough to see how happy you both looked, and she was genuinely glad about that. She would even make excuses for Joel to come to the cafe,  

Hey dad, can you please bring my notebook, I forgot it on the table and we’re discussing something 

And boy would he be beyond happy whenever he gets the opportunity to show up at the cafe. 

- 

But like waking up from a really good dream,  

Joel had just entered the cafe, standing on the counter, chatting with you (not blocking the way of customers) while you received orders when your eyes went wide at the figure entering through the door,  

“What is it?” Joel asked casually 

You ducked your head, “its dad” you whispered and saw how Joel’s face fell. You both knew you weren’t allowed to hang out with Joel, let alone be around him.  

Suddenly his demeanor changed as he cleared his throat, looking down at the menu card, feeling your dad approaching. You managed to keep a serious and bothered face as you saw your dad stopping deadly in his tracks as he saw Joel. oh boy  

“There are other cafes in the town” your dad grunted, indirectly referring to Joel, who only rolled his eyes in response.  

You bit a smile at his reaction, “hey dad! Didn’t know you were coming” you tried to alleviate the thick tension.  

Your dad gave you a tight nod, “yeah, get me two blueberry pastries; your mom called”  

Never the friendly face, annoyance etched on his face like it was there since he was born. Your father was exactly the kind of customers you hated. Acting like a boss, like you owe a million dollars.   

You looked between two of them before you left to get the box. On your return, you didn’t spot Joel. You frowned, wondering if your dad had said something to him. Your thoughts were cut short by your dad; 

“No need to serve him, tell him to go any other cafe, there are plenty of them,”  

You were speechless, he was being absolutely ridiculous.  

“Wha- dad? He’s just a customer, you can't bring your years’ old absurd beef in this-”  

“Do as i tell you, and if you can’t, then leave the job, you can do better anyway” he threatened in low voice, pointing his finger at you, before leaving 

You knew your dad was overreacting but you kept your mouth shut because you knew he wouldn’t care about the people and just shout on you if you disagreed with him 

- 

It was midnight, your mind was running a hundred thoughts a minute since your dad showed up today. You had no idea how to tell Joel to stop coming to the café, like how could you stop him when it made you the happiest? 

 “Hey, you awake?” you texted joel  

He didn’t reply for 10 minutes, then your phone chimed, you quickly turned it on to see his text,  

J- “Yeah, I'm up, why aren’t you asleep yet?” he replied 

“Wondering what dad told you today at the cafe” there was no filtering when you were with Joel, sharing every piece of your mind and not regretting it 

J- “Except telling me to not ‘roam around you’ he didn't really say anything”  

You were embarrassed, why did your dad have to be like that? you felt bad for Joel 

“I’m sorry” you sent before typing “I just wish he wouldn’t stop you from the cafe, your presence feels natural there”  

J- “Don't be sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mind it at all. He’s only looking out for you; we'll figure it out. plus, I think I can sneak in when I get the chance ;)”  

You scoffed at his text, looking out for me? More like suffocating me from things that I actually like. But you felt affection for him in the way he was willing to be with you.  

- 

It had been a week, he showed up two times. Two times. A day apart. Then he disappeared for the rest of the week. 

After the 3rd long day of him not showing up, you started to worry. Two hours of constant contemplating later, you decided to text him, 

“Hey, Joel” 

It's Sunday afternoon, 2pm. Not that Joel would have something to do so you wait for his text. You toss and twist in bed, smoking cigarettes, reading old magazines, scrolling on your phone, an hour later, there was no reply. 

4 hours; nothing.  

8 hours; nothing.  

Next day, beginning of next week. You passed by his house, praying to get at least a glimpse of him but there was nothing.  

You didn’t even see him on the streets, not with Sarah, just nowhere. As if he didn't even exist.  

  Still your ears pricked up every time you heard the door to the café ring, desperately hoping it was Joel, but it was never him.  

Sarah and her friends were seated at their accustomed table. It distressed you to see Sarah, not knowing how to go and ask her about her dad.  

It upset you even more when Gina asked you about him every other day, and more hurt when you had to lie, like “oh he’s just busy,”  

But Gina knew better when she saw you with pity in her eyes, that look that told you, I'm sorry he ghosted you.   

  You had to hold back your tears to keep her from knowing that she was right.  

But you broke down the second you locked the room to your room, lighting a cigarette, you placed it between your puffy red lips as the tears streamed down your cheeks,  

“Where the hell are you, Joel?” you hit send and threw your phone as you sat on the windowsill, watching the cars go buy,  

You got out of the bathroom when you heard your phone ding, you all but ran to the bed, grabbing and swiping it on,  

J- “Yeah, just around. How’s everything?”  

You were taken aback by the carelessness. As if it wasn't bothering him, as much it was bothering you. As if he didn’t miss you at all like you did. As if it all didn’t matter. As if you didn't matter 

“Really? You ghosted me for two weeks and now you're acting all chill?” you replied 

Frustration getting the best of you, you wanted to cry again.  

J- “Look, I think it’s best for the both of us”  

“Fuck what you think, fuck you” you sent   

You could feel the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. You threw your phone on the table before falling on the bed, face first.  

The next thing you know is you're sobbing, muffling the sounds with the pillow on your face. You didn't realize how much you were attached to him until now, you didn't know how much you wanted to be with him until now.  

You got up to smoke a cigarette to release the stress, but you cried while exhaling puffs of smoke in the air  

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him 

- 

The next two days were a blur. You avoided spending extra time in the cafe, avoided conversations with your coworkers because they ended up asking about Joel. Your father picked a fight with a random guy just because he took longer to deliver some equipment that he ordered online; it was stupid really. You avoided Sarah too, because she painfully reminded you of Joel  

I'm only giving it time, I'll get back to normal eventually, you’d tell yourself  

The third day, you were brewing coffee when your phone vibrated, turning it on, your heart dropped to the stomach as you read Joel’s name on it 

Quickly you swiped to view the message,  

J- “Can we talk?” you felt anxiety rising up. A part of you was excited that he texted while the other part of you was furious, he can't just come and go as he pleases 

You were lost in your thoughts when you received another message, J- “please?”  

You decided to let things be, he ghosted me for a week, now he wants to talk, he can't expect me to go back running  

Putting your phone down, you carried on with your work until it was night. 

You closed the cafe as you stepped out, you saw a familiar truck parked beside your car.  

Unmistakably Joel. 

He stood there leaning against his truck, cigarette smoke around him like a halo. He pushed himself up as he spotted you and he made his way to you.  

You stood there frozen. Resisting the strong urge to go and hug him and never let go. But you stood there and waited,  

He came close but didn't stop until he was only a few inches away from you. Looking at your face, examining it, eyes running all over your features,  

“Sarah said you looked horrible, but God you look worse,” he whispered. Scared if he talks loudly, this all would shatter,  

“Like you care?” you retorted.  

That's when you saw in his eyes. Regret. Remorse. Before he hung his head down, 

Slowly he reached for your hands, hanging on your sides, silently interlacing your fingers. You didn't stop him. You couldn’t  

“Please, can we talk?” his voice was small as he looked at you 

You nodded  

He released a breath, that even he didn’t know he was holding, as he nodded too 

With your fingers still interlaced, he tugged you toward his truck. You both walked the distance, hand in hand as you felt droplets of water kissing your skin.  

You went rigid making Joel turn and face you, watching you wipe away the water beads from your face. A few more drops on both of you before the rain lashes down. 

Joel instinctively became your human shield, as you both ran towards his truck, even though that wouldn’t keep you from drenching, but the action was so Joel. Reaching there, he quickly opened the door for you before getting himself inside from the other side.  

Both of your breaths were ragged as you sat in silence.  

He ignited the engine bringing his truck to life,  

“Where are we going?” you broke the silence  

He sighed, “I- uh, had tis place in mind but,” he looked out the window, at the rain, “‘s rainin’ so we can stay in the truck, I guess,”  

“What place?” you were confused,  

“Y’gonna love it, trus’ me” a small smirk growing in the corner of his lips 

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Part: 1 2 3 

Tags: @strawberri-blonde