#i describe my love for them as a slow burn lol
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patrickztump · 1 year ago
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i’m giving u a free pass: talk abt whichever one u wanted to talk abt most from that fob ask game!
thank you thank you thank you!! ❤︎
12. how did you became a fan? a lot of the questions on that list i've answered unprompted several times over, but never this one. i did have a draft typed up where i went off on how i actually became a fan, but recently deleted because: "who asked?" ...you vibe?
it's actually a boring story. a friend of mine was a massive mcr fan so i heard all about them, and subsequently fob and panic as well. at the time i, myself, was a massive train fan. during this time (2011/12ish) i heard fob here and there via said friend, but it was mostly futct and ioh. it really didn't peak my interest much, so i never dug deeper or set out to listen to them. i did have a song that featured patrick, but honestly didn't know his connection to the band at the time and just thought he was a good singer.
come 2013, i want to say train made a tweet or they retweeted fob (i can't find proof of either, but i am Certain it happened) that said "young volcanoes" incorporated elements of "hey, soul sister." at the time, "my songs" was very popular - i had heard and enjoyed it, so set out to listen to yv. after that i found myself listening to them more and more, downloading some songs, adding them to playlists, and had their station was on heavy rotation on pandora. i told my friend that i was really enjoying their music (srar specifically, but some of folie as well), and she kind of recoiled and said, "i never pictured you liking them." based off her reaction and tone, i kind of took that as a bad thing, so just listened to them without telling anyone (closeted fan lmao).
so between 2013 and 2018/19ish i'd say, i was silently enjoying them because anytime it came out that i did like them, somehow it was met with judgement. only up until late 2021/early 2022 did my brain say, "this is your New Favorite, go on child, Obsess" and here we are lol
normally i don't add this bit, but for anyone's convenience: send me more numbers pls ❤︎
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gracieheartspedro · 22 days ago
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For Cryin’ Out Loud
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pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x afab! reader
how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters
word count: 7.9k
description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.
warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!
author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3
For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep. 
The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you. 
It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar. 
The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos. 
When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot. 
In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you. 
He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often. 
“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance. 
You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification. 
You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”
He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”
You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again. 
“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”
He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”
“I can’t, Joel.”
“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”
“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”
“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”
The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”
"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."
"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.
“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”
You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”
“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”
"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel. 
“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”
"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”
He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome. 
But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.
"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.
You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.
"I don't know." You manage to say.
Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not. 
Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic. 
He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.
"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.
You nod, "I don't know if I want that."
You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed. 
Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked. 
“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”
You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.
"I want to sleep with you."
Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do. 
He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty. 
"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.
You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. 
Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you. 
You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”
-
Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in. 
The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year. 
A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left. 
Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him. 
“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”
He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”
You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing. 
“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."
Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection. 
"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."
You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you. 
“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”
He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.
But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you. 
You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.
"Do you sleep on your side or back?"
Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night. 
"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."
You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"
Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.
"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."
You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.  
"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"
Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.
Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.
He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.
"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.
You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.
"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."
Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.
"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”
He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.
You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.
"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."
Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.
"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."
You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now. 
"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."
Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed. 
"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."
He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.
"Go on..."
Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.
"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."
Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"
Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.
"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified. 
You mentally slap yourself in the face.
"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."
Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.
"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."
"Yeah, exactly..."
He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.
You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.
Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something.  He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.
"So… ten years and no sex?”
You could seriously, not help yourself.
"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.
"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”
He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”
You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town. 
“You just give off the energy…”
“What?”
You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”
“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.” 
You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms. 
But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.
“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.
Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.
You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle. 
You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter. 
It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.
-
When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy. 
You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across. 
His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-
His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles. 
“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.
“I didn’t have a nightmare.”
His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”
The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.
“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”
Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.
"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.
"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..." 
You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him. 
Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you. 
"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."
You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.
Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him. 
He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.
"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you. 
“You’re a brat.”
You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly. 
"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"
"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"
"So, you don't believe me?"
"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."
"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.
"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."
"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful. 
“‘Course I do.”
You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him. 
“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him. 
But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.
“I am always nice to you.”
You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”
He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.” 
Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”
“Because I am!”
And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it. 
“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him. 
Why does he already miss your hands?
He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”
“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”
“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over. 
“Whatever, Joel.” 
As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.
Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live. 
He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them. 
You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen. 
“You got pat-”
“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move. 
“Who are you-”
“Jesse.”
He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer. 
“Hey, can you-”
You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time. 
“Can I what?”
He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”
You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor. 
You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond. 
“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking. 
He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”
���No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”
You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard. 
The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning. 
“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”
You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.
He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word. 
-
All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here. 
You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him. 
You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt. 
You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals. 
You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom. 
You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off. 
You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water. 
When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”
He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud. 
He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”
You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?
“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”
He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”
You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest. 
But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?
He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore. 
Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point? 
His body was on fire, thinking about you. 
You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you. 
You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud. 
“For cryin’ out loud, woman!” 
You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy. 
“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.
He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”
“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?” 
You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing. 
He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”
Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates. 
“Joel-“
“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”
You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 
“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”
As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.
His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 
But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences. 
“Joel, you said we can’t-”
“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”
You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you. 
But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him. 
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.
“Darlin’-”
“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”
It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies. 
You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first. 
His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own. 
“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”
Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful. 
“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”
He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back. 
He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time. 
You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way. 
He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans. 
“Joel… I-“
He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body. 
“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”
That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance. 
“Please, Joel.”
He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then. 
You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan. 
“You are divine, baby.”
The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter. 
He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”
“Y-yes, Joel.”
“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”
Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core. 
“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”
He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”
“God, yes.”
Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself. 
His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming. 
You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you. 
“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”
You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress. 
“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.
When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.
“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”
You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”
“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”
He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance. 
“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”
He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”
You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his. 
But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight. 
“Ready?”
Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone. 
“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”
He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”
When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming. 
He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes. 
You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half. 
He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him. 
“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”
You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.
“‘M all yours, Joel.”
He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”
You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.
“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”
“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”
His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile. 
Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.
He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring. 
“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself. 
“I’m more than okay.”
He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.
Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.
Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.
So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking. 
Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to. 
You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.
“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose. 
He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”
tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld
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milktei · 2 years ago
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Hold me Tight
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Kamisato Ayato x fem!wife!Reader
Genre: Arranged Marriage au, idk if it can be called a slow burn but that’s what I’m calling it, fluff, smidge of angst.
Warnings: unconventional relationship, Reader is described to have long hair that is brushed through. not edited
Requests: Open
a/n: another one out! :o Had to indulge myself a little bit before getting back to requests. arranged marriage au’s are my guilty pleasure and i just felt like writing for genshin again. Hair brushing and physical affection is also just such a big thing for me I had to write it. So if it isn’t obvious i wrote this mostly for selfish reasons and that is the reason why it may be sort of all over the place lol. I hope it’s enjoyable either way!
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A hug is all you longed for really. For someone to wrap warm arms around you and let you completely melt into them.
Being married it should be an easy ask
How unfortunate it is for you that your husband wants nothing to do with you.
Although the more you thought about it, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. He did agree to the marriage hadn’t he?
He was the head of his clan, the Yashiro commissioner. Throughout the entirety of the process of arranging your marriage, Kamisato Ayato had every right, and more than enough chances to stop it from going through.
He had nothing to lose if he decided he wasn’t ready for marriage, which was an excuse many citizens of Inazuma had heard over the years.
He really had nothing to gain from it either.
It confused you from the day the elders of your clan elatedly told you that by some insane amount of luck, the Kamisato Ayato had accepted “your” marriage proposal that had been sent in as almost an obligation.
There was no harm in trying and you were now living proof of that.
Why you? out of all the suitors he definitely had, he had chosen you. While your clan was one of the head producers of tea leaves in the country, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around his acceptance, it was not like the Kamisato’s needed the tea, they could have afforded it anyways.
There was no political gain for him either as he was already a tri-commissioner, you weren’t even in line to become heir! Your uncle was the head of the clan and your cousins would follow in his footsteps.
The gossip about you flew all over inazuma like a storm cloud, and you heard it all, people weren’t always subtle in their curiosity or distaste in you after all.
Some of the talk was harsh and negative, and yet you couldn’t help but partially agree with what some people were saying about you.
You were a nobody as far as nobility went. The only reason you could think of as to why Ayato chose you, was likely to reduce the amount of mail that he got, as the marriage proposals had virtually stopped after your wedding. Aside from some particularly desperate people.
Perhaps you really were the best candidate for him. You weren’t a prominent figure in the public eye, you weren’t after the Kamisato’s fame and fortune, and you weren’t the type of person to fawn over your husband 24/7 and demand he shower you in riches and attention.
Although you almost wish that you were. Maybe then you wouldn’t be longing for a hug as badly as you currently were.
While it was true that being married to Ayato meant that you had nearly everything you could ask for at your fingertips, and that it was rare for you to be denied anything—not like you asked for much anyways—the one thing you could not ask for, was your husband’s affection. How ironic. the one person you spewed rehearsed vows to about being his rock and what not, was the one person you could not get an ounce of love or affection from.
Of course you had never really had the chance to try at this point, as despite being married for 6 months already, you can count the amount of times you had a full conversation with the man on one hand.
“I hope that you can find it in you to excuse my lord. He is a very busy man.” Thoma had told you the day you had moved in and your husband was no where to be seen. The look he gave you the mixture of empathy and a wince.
That was the day reality set in. He looked at you kindly on the day you got married. Soft smiles graced both of your features during the ceremony, and you two spoke amicably during the extravagant reception. But this was an arranged marriage, a contract more than a relationship, and you both had duties to fulfill.
A smile that had been drilled into you since your etiquette classes from your youth crossed your face “There’s no need to worry about me Thoma, I understand.”
So you had to learn to get used to being alone in an estate bustling with people. You opened your wedding gifts alone, sorted them accordingly and even sent out an astonishing amount of individual thank you cards to all the guests you had at your wedding.
You often ate alone, save for the times Ayaka and Thoma had time to accompany you. Aside from being reached out to for second opinions or approval you weren’t given a formal job on the estate. Instead you were given an allowance, and were free to spend your days doing whatever you wanted, so long as the Kamisato name was protected.
Yes that was another thing you had to get used to, “Kamisato y/n”, “My lady Kamisato.” Hearing the latter was especially hard, that title felt as if it was reserved only for your sister-in-law, she definitely represented it with more grace than you thought you were ever capable of.
The name and all the responsibilities it came with weighed down on your shoulders unlike anything you had every experienced prior, and here you pushed against it alone. Forced to go through the transition into married life without the other half of the partnership to support you.
That led you to your predicament now. You were coming to the realization that you were horribly touch starved.
It was even worse on cold windy days, or when it rained. All it did was remind you about how your late parents would use those days to curl up with you, a warm blanket, and a book to laze the day away and wish for nicer weather the next so that you could go out on a picnic.
you longed for those days of warmth and love again. Your family had been quite affectionate with one another. While Ayaka would come and spend time with you, treating you like an older sibling. Nothing could reach the craving deep within you.
You sighed to yourself as you walked through the streets of Inazuma, ignoring the whispers of people who passed and recognized who you were.
Or rather who you were married to.
“My lady Kamisato!” greeted the Yae publishing house worker. “You’ve come at a great time, the new volume of your favourite series has just released.”
The worker handed you the book in question and you couldn’t help the excitement that rose within you as you quickly flipped through “I was hoping that I’d be able to pick something up today. I’ve been needing more things to do when the weather doesn’t permit me to go outside. Any other recommendations?”
The worker smiled at you sweetly and handed you another book “Surely Lord Ayato, is able to keep you from getting too bored at the estate my lady?”
Your smile faltered ever so slightly, you couldn’t let it drop in front of the worker, the last thing you wanted was for anymore rumours to spread. You pretended to read the synopsis of the book that was handed to you. “Yes of course, but there are still times where he is not available. My husband is a very busy man.”
My husband, you didn’t think you would ever get used to referring to him as that. He felt like nothing more than a stranger who’s house you happened to live in, who you shared a family name with, who would grace you with a soft smile and a nod as you passed each other at the estate each making your ways to your separate rooms.
A gust of wind blew through the streets and both you and the worker shivered. You looked at the sky and frowned at the dark clouds rolling in, you flinched as a singular rain drop landed on your cheek.
The worker also looked up “it really is rainy season isn’t it?” they looked to you “I would recommend you head home soon my lady, looks like it’s gonna come down any minute now and you’ve got a long walk back to the Kamisato estate”
You sighed, “what a shame, I was hoping to run a couple more errands today.” you payed for both books and placed them into your bag with a smile “thank you for the advice I’ll head out now.”
You walked away from the shop in the direction of the estate, waving behind you as the worker told you to stay safe.
———
Perhaps you should have stayed in town.
You come to this realization as you’re halfway to the estate. Komore tea house would have been much nicer than the weather you were experiencing currently.
The singular raindrop you had felt earlier had slowly progressed into a little more than a drizzle and you groaned to yourself as your clothing grew heavier as it absorbed more and more water.
You should have grabbed your umbrella
It was practically pouring by the time you had gotten to the estate, the trees of Chinju forest providing surprisingly little shelter against the rain.
Quickly, you rushed under the cover of the roof of the estate and sighed in relief once you weren’t being pelted by water. You looked down at you clothes and cringed at the water dripping from the fabric and your hair onto the dark wood
Wringing out what you could beforehand, you opened the front doors of the estate as quietly as you could, albeit in vain as Thoma and your husband were having a discussion right at the entrance.
Both men turned to look at you as the door closed and you could only stare back awkwardly as the sound of water dripping from you clothes and hair, along with your shivering filled the room.
Thoma was the first to break the silence and began fussing over you not unlike a mother hen.
“My lady you’re soaking wet! You’re going to get sick! I’ll have the maids draw a bath for you. Please allow me to grab your belongings. I’ll have tea ready for you once you’re done.
Before you knew it, you were standing in your bathroom with a steaming tub waiting for you. Still bewildered at what had transpired moments before.
Still, Thoma and his efforts were never unwelcome as the bath was exactly what you needed.
You took your time in the bath, taking in the scent of the flowers and oils put in by the maids, appreciating how well the water warmed your once cold body.
Once finished, you were quick to dry off and get dressed, still towel drying your hair as you entered your room.
As promised, Thoma had left a tea set on the table in your room with a container holding tea leaves, knowing you liked to brew it yourself.
The only thing out of place was an extra tea cup.
As if on cue, the door to your room was gently slid open and your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of pale blue hair.
“My lord!” you greeted, the words leaving you mouth before you could even try to stop them.
Ayato paused as the two of you made eye contact, it was almost as if he was surprised himself that you were in your own room.
Ayato was the first to regain his composure after clearing his throat. “Majority of my plans for today have been cancelled due to the weather, I was hoping you could allow me to join you for a bit.”
Your head was spinning, not able to wrap itself around the fact that your husband was in your room and actively trying to spend time with you.
“Of course if that’s how you wish to spend your free time my lord.” you stammered, part of you still believing that this was some sort of dream.
A small shiver ran down your spine and you were reminded of the damp hair that ran down your back. You looked to the vanity in your room and then back at your husband.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I would like to fix my hair situation beforehand.”
“Of course y/n there’s no need to worry, it’s just me.”
That was precisely why you were panicking on the inside at that moment. It was only the man who was so busy, that his presence in the house on a daily basis resembled that of a gust of wind.
You sat down at you vanity and picked up one of your combs, beginning the task of untangling the mess you had created both in the rain and bath.
You nearly groaned out loud to yourself, you had kept your hair long to be able to use the multitude of flamboyant hair accessories you had acquired, but brushing it had always been your least favourite part of the entire process.
A awkward cough caused you to look at the man in your room.
“if you are comfortable with it…I could help you brush your hair.”
You stared in shock at the man in front of you. His face was genuine but you could tell by the reddening of his ears that he was flustered, the most you had ever seen from him.
The combination of being a witness to such a rare site and the fact that you were still in shock that he was there in the first place, had you speaking without much thought.
“That would be very helpful my lord, thank you.”
The surprise on his face was visible You could only hope that your whirlwind of emotions wasn’t as obvious.
Still, not one to go back on his word, Ayato gently took the comb from your outstretched hand and began to work. His powerful presence behind you almost causing you to curl in on yourself.
He was gentle, his hands warm as they followed your comb, a warm feeling spread throughout you chest as he so carefully detangled your hair, taking his time.
You hoped that he wouldn’t be able notice through your reflection just how flustered you were at this moment. Your face was hot, your breathing was slightly rapid and you couldn’t find it in yourself to look up at the mirror in fear that your eyes would connect.
Yet this moment felt so intimate, so tender and domestic. You could almost believe that you two were much closer than you really were.
A soft chuckle broke you from your thoughts.
“This brings me back.” Ayato sighed wistfully, “when we were younger, Ayaka would let me do this for her. Though she seemed less than impressed when I would try different styles on her. I wonder if she would trust me with her hair again after all this time.”
You smiled down at your fidgeting hands “I’m sure she would if you promised no more experiments my lord.”
Ayato hummed in contemplation “I suppose you may be right, but at the same time maybe I won’t need to ask her if I already have yours within reach.” He leaned closer to your ear, “After all, am I wrong to assume that you are enjoying this my dear wife?”
Your face felt like it was on fire, you had never heard him call you that to your face before. You could feel the smug smile that was currently gracing his features as he leaned back and continued his actions.
“Well?” He urged after a moment
“No you are not wrong to assume that my lord.” You managed to stammer out. Your hands clenched into fists in your lap as you forced yourself to say the truth, knowing well that he would be able to see through any lie.
He sighed. “Please y/n I think we’re at a point where we can drop the formalities.”
Your eyes widened at his words and you spoke the first thing that came to mind.
“Are we really?”
His hand that was holding the brush froze mid stroke, the room was suddenly filled with a chilled silence and you cringed at the amount of malice an anger that you managed to fit into one simple question.
This was no way to talk to the man you were married to.
“Forgive me my… Ayato. I did not mean to sound so harsh I just-“
“No no there’s no need to apologize.” ayato assured. He raked a hand through your hair and chuckled bitterly, “I supposed it is my fault that you feel this way about our…situation
You opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out. What he said wasn’t a lie to make you feel better for snapping at him. It was entirely the truth and you were grateful that he understood where you were coming from.
“Finished.” He stated softly before placing the comb back on your vanity. “I hope that I haven’t worn out my welcome.”
You paused for a moment, thinking about the situation you found yourself in, while wanting to get yourself out of the awkward moment, you knew that a chance to spend time with him again would be rare.
“You haven’t, don’t worry,” you stated as you slowly rose from your seat. Still refusing to look up at him you gestured to the low table where the tea set sat, “Please have a seat, I’ll brew the tea for us.”
It was quiet as you worked, the only sounds in the room being the clink of tea set, and the crinkle of tatami mats. You thanked Thoma in your mind when you saw that he had prepared leaves that were better steeped in lower temperatures, as the water had cooled down since he first boiled it.
“We’ll have to wait a couple minutes.” You said as you closed the lid of the teapot. Ayato nodded and an awkward silence filled the room.
“I don’t want to use me being busy as an excuse.” Ayato suddenly blurted out.
You finally look up at him in surprise “Pardon?”
Ayato cleared his throat “My apologies. It’s just that I know that everyone has been using me being busy to excuse me for being absent in this relationship. While I know that lin its simplest terms, what we have between us is a contract, part of me still hoped that I would be able to get to know you well and we could be much more than strangers. There are many times where I could have put my work aside and spent more time with you, but I for some reason I never found myself taking those opportunities.”
He looked almost guilty as he continued. “Now here I am, months later knowing next to nothing about you, and on top of that I expected you to be comfortable with speaking casually around me when we have barely even spoken before.
You pondered to yourself as you poured tea into his cup “Well if it makes you feel any better,” you poured more into your own “I also know next to nothing about you.”
“Unfortunately that only seems to add salt to the wounds my dear.” Ayato grumbled.
Your eyes widened at the pet name and you quickly lifted your teacup to your face to hide your embarrassment.
Ayato followed suit and hummed in satisfaction as he drank. “Well I do know one thing now. My wife is excellent at brewing tea. It must run in your family’s genes.”
You waved him off “it’s just something that comes with experience, my uncle is the true master.”
“I also now know that my wife finds it hard to accept compliments.”
“Hey!”
Ayato smiled at you teasingly as you glared at him, though there was no anger behind it.
“Well now that’s unfair,” you stated “I should get to learn something about you now.”
Your husband raised an eyebrow, “well what would you like to know?”
You faltered for a moment, not expecting him to relent so easily, “well…” you stuttered, “what type of tea would you consider your favourite?”
“Really digging deep are we y/n?”
“I couldn’t think of something straight away!”
Despite the teasing, the questions continued, it was as if you were on a first date.
Except you were already living together and married.
One question was asked after the other. Ranging from you asking him about the daily life of a tri-commissioner, to him asking about the books you had bought earlier in the day.
It was only after Thoma had brought dinner to your room, that you had finally asked.
“So why me?”
Ayato’s chopsticks paused mid air “Why what?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, he was playing dumb.
“Why did Inazuma’s most desired bachelor, Yashiro commissioner, leader of the famed Shuumatsuban, and the man who brought the Kamisato Clan back to its former glory, the Kamisato Ayato. Decide that a nobody from a tea producing clan was the one you would want to spend the rest of you life with.”
Ayato looked at you in exasperation “You aren’t a nobody y/n there’s so much more to you.”
“We don’t need to get down to the specifics, don’t avoid the question!” You exclaimed, ignoring the pleased smile on his face as he took in your flustered state.
Ayato put a hand to his chin and hummed as if contemplating something grand. He took a moment to respond. “Would you believe me if I said that I found you to be a very interesting person y/n?”
You stared at him blankly.
“Don’t lie to me we didn’t even meet until the wedding.”
The smile that he sent you sent a chill down your spine “Well I suppose that’s true in a sense, but we have been in each other’s presence on multiple occasions.”
You couldn’t mask the your surprise, “we have?”
Ayato looked at you incredulously. “Surely you know how often the Yashiro commission requests supplies from your clan for the multiple events we host.”
You fiddled with your teacup “Well sure but that doesn’t mean that it was a guarantee that we bump into each other. I’m sure I would have remembered being in the presence of you of all people.”
Ayato shrugged, “Being in the public eye is much more my sisters domain. I tend to stick to the shadows during bigger festivals that I’m interested in. During one of these times… you caught my eye.”
Your eyes widened “I did?”
He looked bashful as he continued his story, you were sure that you were the first person to ever see him in this state.
“I always knew of you, as I often meet with your uncle for business. I don’t know if you know this but he often worries about you and tends to talk about you during these meetings.” Ayato hummed in contemplation. “Perhaps it was a tactic to make me say yes to the upcoming proposal”
You groaned in horror at the realization that the two men had been talking about you “I apologize for my uncles actions.”
Ayato waved dismissively “Thats not the point. At a festival is where I first saw you and was able to put a name to a face. What I didn’t expect was the fact that everything about you had fascinated me. The way you danced and had that kind of sparkle in you eyes as you wandered around in wonder. The way you kindly greeted everyone you met. I found myself looking for you at following festivals to see if that was always how you looked…it was.”
“So it was only my looks” you teased
he sighed exasperated “Of course not”
You laughed “I’m kidding. Keep going.”
“Then at one point I was due for a meeting at your estate with your uncle and I might have listened in on a deal you were striking with a business man. The confidence in your voice was obvious and the way you negotiated with grace and kindness, yet still with firmness, had me intrigued within the first couple seconds of me hearing it. My interest only grew when your meeting had concluded and I saw you step out. with an accomplished smile on your face”
You gaped at him, you very rarely took part in your family’s business deals, only helping with what your cousins or uncle were too busy to handle. For him to be there at that time on that day was truly a great coincidence.
“You really piqued my interest that day. Although it was not my first choice in ways to get closer to you, when I saw the proposal sent by your clan, everything seemed to fall into place.” Ayato laughed but his tone soon turned solemn.
“Unfortunately not everything worked out for me, because look at how things are going. I left you to fend for yourself against the public, we rarely see each other, and this is the longest we have ever spoken despite being married for months. I think I was just afraid of crossing any boundaries, after all this marriage is arranged and I had no idea as to how you felt about me.”
Without thinking you reached over the table and grabbed one of his hands in both of yours, touched by how vulnerable he was being with you, “I wouldn’t have agreed to the marriage so easily if I thought ill of you in any way, while I may not have known you, you also piqued my interest. I won’t lie I was- still am extremely shocked, but I saw nothing bad coming out of this marriage really. It started off slow but we’re talking now, and well, don’t you think we’ve made some great progress?”
He smiled endearingly at you, “yes, I am grateful for this opportunity and hope that we can continue on this path.”
You laughed, “now you’re making it sound like a business deal.”
After that, you and Ayato finished your dinner making pleasant conversation. The sun had long gone down when he made the call for the both of you to retire for the night.
He once again stood in the doorway of your room, only this time you were standing right in front of him.
“I’ll have a heavier workload tomorrow but I think I’ll be able to join you for dinner again.”
You smiled up at him “I would like that, please let me know if there’s anything I can help you with, I’m part of this clan too you know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you y/n.”
There was a pause and Ayato reluctantly continued. “Well I should take my leave for the night.”
As he turned, something seemed to overcome you, and you grabbed at his wrist,
“Ayato.”
He froze and turned to look at you curiously. you shyly looked away, “before you go. May I have a hug?”
He gave you a teasing smile, “this is all happening so fast, what will everyone think?”
“Oh please we’re already married.”
He laughed and his smile softened.
Without anymore words, Ayato opened his arms.
You couldn’t hold back the giddy smile that crossed your face and without hesitation you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace for the first time in what would become many.
A scent that was uniquely his filled your nose, and as you pressed against his chest you could feel and hear his heart pounding just as hard as yours. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as you wrapped your arms around his waist. A need you had been suppressing for months had finally been fulfilled. His hold was strong and comforting, his hold making you feel like you again.
Ayato chuckled to himself as his grip tightened, “well now I’ve found myself in a predicament.”
Still holding onto him, you turned your head to look up at him. “What is it?”
“I don’t want to let go.”
2K notes · View notes
saintslewis · 1 year ago
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𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒
— pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!oc
— trope: fake/arranged marriage
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— summary: the Browns and the Hamiltons have been neighbours for many years, Nadia and their oldest son, Lewis, not being as close as the families had hoped they would be. Years later, everyone drifts apart into different neighbourhoods, some others becoming one of the best drivers to ever grace the sport of Formula One however being a man of his stature, fame came along with it and so did the scandals.
can a fake marriage to a complete stranger help keep his image alive? let’s find out!
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✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ———————— let’s meet the lovely couple!
👩🏽‍🏫 —— nadia brown!
“the coolest teacher ever”
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⸰ֺ⭑ - a south african native who moved to stevenage with her mom when she was 8 and gosh, her character development is one for the books. from being the shy one for all of her school years, university changed everything and made her the social butterfly that you will all grow to love soon. fav colour is pink. fav artist is beyoncé. she teaches history and knows jack shit about f1 except that the cool guy that her parents support used to be their neighbour. absolutely loves the moon and is a part time stylist. will fight for you even she met you a second ago.
🏎️ —— lewis hamilton!
“the goat.”
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⸰ֺ⭑ - a literal superstar. the stevenage driver who i would describe as the coolest person ever and many would agree. an adrenaline junky with a heart of gold and filled with positivity (and sass but you didn’t hear it from me). thee fashionista and he knows he’s fine, he just does. father to roscoe. fav colour is purple. loves discussing space and its beauty. did i mention he’s the coolest guy ever? super supportive of everyone around him and he’s knighted. ladies and gents, mr mercedes!
✧༚ ˎˊ˗ info abt renaissance!
˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, a bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, a talk of ad21, south african slang, slight hints of smut (18+ MDNI), not much of a slow burn lol, lots and lots of brand names, slight themes of sugar daddy! lewis at some point lol (think of it as him spoiling her!)
˖ ࣪⭑ - inspo: this idea just spawned into my head as well as a few of my wip’s mushed together to make this masterpiece. i absolutely love beyonce so using RENAISSANCE for a project so special to me just make wanna do a couple cartwheels. i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did making this!
˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: omg hi everybody 🤭. first oc on tumblr woohoo! not a lot of the song lyrics will relate to the plot of the chapter but more so the beat of the song or the vibe? hope that makes sense lol. i hope you guys like the humour i’m gonna add in here. there isn’t a schedule for this yet but hopefully i’ll be more organised in the future. let’s get this party started!
˖ ࣪⭑ - taglist: @thisismeracing @goldsainz @folkloresthings @flowerchild-96 @userlando (i read your blogs as if it’s my morning paper so i hope you like this 😭) @non-stop-imagines @royallyprincesslilly . let me know if you wanna be tagged in this or future fics!
˖ ࣪⭑ - dividers by @cafekitsune 🫶🏽
˖ ࣪⭑ - pictures from pinterest and twitter
˖ ࣪⭑ - nadia faceclaim: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!
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𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 !
1. I’M THAT GIRL
- the first meeting.
2. COZY
- imagine having dinner with your family then they announce that you’re getting married? you better get cozy for this one!
3. ALIEN SUPERSTAR
- first “date”. gotta show the world the newest married couple!
4. CUFF IT
- didn’t Lewis say he was a professional dancer? well now he is 🕺🏽
5. ENERGY
- first day in the paddock, let’s gaurrr
6. BREAK MY SOUL
- ooohhhhh, the school’s calling for a meeting with Nadia 😟
7. CHURCH GIRL
- party time activated ‼️
8. PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA
- a rainy afternoon in the kitchen with the both of them dancing? literally screaming!
9. VIRGO’S GROOVE
- catching feelings there?
10. MOVE
- a visit to Nadia’s work place isn’t so bad, right? …right?
11. HEATED
- time to let the world know who exactly Nadia is and why to not mess with her or her husband. period.
12. THIQUE
- party time pt 2?
13. ALL UP IN YOUR MIND
- how about a little vacation? :D
14. AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM
- coming soon!
15. PURE/HONEY
- coming soon!
16. SUMMER RENAISSANCE
- coming soon!
status: ongoing
saintslewis 🫶🏽
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sandwitchstories · 6 months ago
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Fools Rush In
Hello and welcome once again to story hour featuring, you guess it, more filthy Rengoku brain rot!
(I can't help it, he just makes me feel things. lol)
This was supposed to be pure smut but then it caught feelings at the end. Damn stories have a mind of their own!
If you would rather read on AO3, please click here!
Summary: Angry and frustrated by a bad day and dealing with his alcoholic father, Kyojuro goes for a drive to clear his mind. He winds up at your house and in your arms, where he belongs. CW: Smut, MDNI. AFAB reader, AFAB terms used to describe reader's sexy areas, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex
Kyojuro Rengoku was not  in a good mood. Shinazguawa had pressed every single one of his buttons today. His history students had been more unruly than usual. And he had come home to have yet another evening of arguments with his alcoholic father. 
Once Senjuro had gone to bed, Kyojuro had left. He got into his car and just drove. He didn’t even really think about a destination but he was not exactly surprised when his autopilot mode led him straight to your door.
He was out of the car and knocking on your door without even caring what time of night it was. He knew you would be home. It was a weeknight, you never went out on weeknights unless it was for dinner with him or with one of your families.
You opened the door in a bathrobe, having just got out of the bath. He was on you before the door could be shut. He used his foot to close it behind him as he pulled you into his arms, his mouth descending on yours, tongue pushing past your lips and dominating the kiss as he fumbled behind him for the lock. 
You had no idea what had gotten into him, but you didn’t mind at all. You buried your fingers in his hair, kissing him back. You moaned as he pressed you against the wall. His mouth left yours to move hungrily to your neck, hands damn near ripping open your robe (that you were suddenly glad had only been tied loosely).
“You good baby?” you asked, biting your lip and tilting your head back to give him more access.
“Bad day,” he said between sucks and nips of your skin. He lifted his head to meet your gaze. The fire in his eyes burned hotter than ever before. “I do not wish to speak about it right now. I only wish to lose myself in you.”
“‘I’ve got you, baby, always,” you answered, pulling his head to yours. “Take what you need, it’s yours.”
He growled as he kissed you passionately, before pulling back to rip his shirt off over his head. Your hands were already at his pants, undoing the button and zipper to slide your hand inside and cup his hard cock. 
“Fuck,” he swore as you began to stroke him as he worked his pants down before kicking them off. 
You began to drop to your knees, wanting to feel him and taste him in your mouth but he grabbed your arms and stopped you, pulling you closer, your nude bodies pressed together. He gave you a small smirk, “I believe your words were to take what I need?”
You nodded, feeling yourself getting even more wet. He turned you around and bent you over the back of your couch before moving behind you. He pushed one of your legs up so that your knee rested near your body on the top of the couch. You moaned as you felt his fingers sliding back and forth in your slick before dipping inside, testing the waters.
He dragged the head of his cock back and forth before positioning it at your opening and pressing in. He leaned over you, kissing up your back as you moaned. He felt so good, you were so full, stretched, his cock so deep. 
“Tell me when you’re good,” he said, mouthing your neck. “Because we are not starting slow today, my love. I need this too bad, I need you too bad.”
You whimpered with pleasure as you felt his teeth on your skin. His hands moved, one on the back thigh of the lifted leg, bracing it and holding it in place. The other hand buried in your hair, pulling your hair back just hard enough to tilt your head so he could kiss you. 
He broke the kiss and looked down at you. Your lids were already heavy, eyes glossy, fuck you already looked cock drunk and he hadn’t even started to move.  
You lifted your head and kissed him again. “When.”
Kyojuro kissed you messy, passionately before pulling back and moving the hand in your hair down to your hip to hold you in place. He licked his lips as he looked at where you were joined, deciding to do a couple of slow thrusts, just enjoying watching the way your pussy took him. One. Two. 
The tightening of his fingers in their holds was the only warning you got before he was fucking into you hard and fast. His fingers were going to leave bruises on your skin, but he would kiss every one and worship you like a goddess later. Right now, he just needed to get lost in your sweet, sloppy cunt.
You clutched at the couch cushions, trying to sink your nails into the fabric, trying to find something to anchor yourself on as filthy noises fell from your lips, so vulgar sounding you hardly believed they were coming from you. His hips were snapping forward, his balls smacking into you with each thrust. 
His hand moved from your thigh inward to start rubbing circles on your clit. He moved his hips around until you cried out his name when he hit that perfect spot. He grinned behind you. His other hand moved to be buried in your hair, pulling your head up in a firm grip. “I want to hear you, baby. Let me hear you.”
You wailed his name as your orgasm slammed into you, covering his groin and balls in your honey, a creamy ring forming around the base of his cock. The sight of you like that… the sounds you were making… the squelches coming from your perfect pussy… that perfect fucking cunt of yours with your soft hot walls contracting, fluttering and pulsing on his cock sent him over the edge. 
Your mouth fell open and wordless sounds escaped your throat as he pounded into you even harder through your orgasm as lightning coursed through your veins and pleasure filled your being. His strokes were no longer in any type of rhythm, but all were equally deep. Filling you so perfectly as only he ever had. His fingers were still working at your sensitive clit.
“Cum for me, one more time, cum for me,” he said through gritted teeth. 
It took only another few swipes of his thumb to have you falling apart for him again, fireworks exploding behind your eyes as your pussy throbbed and gushed around him. You were a whimpering, sweaty mess.
“That’s it, that’s it! Take me with you, love, take me with you,” his hands were both on your waist as he pulled you back onto his cock over and over until his orgasm hit. He moaned your name, moving his hips as he filled you with his cum. 
He slumped over you, resting his sweaty forehead against your equally wet skin. He gave you several gentle kisses on your shoulder before he released your leg and pulled out of you, watching the mixtures of juices drip slowly out of your well used hole. 
“Stay like that, I’ll get you a towel love,” he says gently.
“That won’t be an issue,” you answered into the couch cushion you were currently slumped over. 
He returned, cleaning you gently with a warm cloth before helping you stand. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing you gently. “You okay? Was I too rough?”
You smiled up at him, sleepy from your work out. “I’m good, Kyo You were fine, perfect, as always, I promise.”
He chuckled at how well sated you looked. “Bed time?”
“Oh yeah,” you laughed, trying to step back but your noodle legs almost gave out. A chuckle escaped your lips as he picked you up bridal style and walked towards your bedroom, both of you still naked. 
You’d find your guy's clothes in the morning before you went to work. All you wanted was to lay in bed with Kyojuro and soak in his warmth. 
You smiled as he set you down on the edge of the bed before pulling down the covers and moving you up on the bed. He moved to the other side, covering you both with the blanket and scooting in closer to you, pulling you into his arms.
You turned towards him, smiling when he did the same, one arm under his head the other wrapped around your waist pulling you against him. You cupped his face and gave him several gentle kisses. “Feel better?”
“Truthfully, I did the minute I saw you. But yes, the amazing sex definitely helped.”
You giggled at his bluntness. “You wanna talk about it?”
He sighed, rolling onto his back. “Just a rough day, Y/N. Nothing to be worried about. Shinazugawa as in a horrible mood today, more so than usual. And my students were… more restless than usual. Every single class at that.”
“A Full moon must be coming soon.”
“How do you figure that?” he arched a prominent eyebrow at you.
“Easy, the hormonal teenagers are going crazy, their true demonic forms beginning to take over.”
“And Shinazugawa?”
“Oh. On full moons I just assumed he turned into a wolfman.”
Kyojuryo couldn’t hold back the laugh, kissing your head as you moved to rest your chin on his chest.
“But neither of those things would put you in that… stressed of a mood,” you prodded. 
“The fights with my father are becoming more frequent and tonight he was on a tear.”
“Werewolf?”
“I think it’s more the Sake but we’ll definitely investigate the back yard for strange prints when we return,” he shook his head, knowing you were only trying to lighten the mood.
“Maybe… it’s time you moved in, Kyojuro.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You know what we just did out there in the living room?” you asked.
He gave you an incredulous look, “It is rather difficult to forget that, especially that quickly, love.”
You leaned in to nip his ear lobe. “We can do that… every… single… day… if you move in. Not just on bad days either.”
“My love,” he said, wrapping arms around you and rolling you onto your back so he rested between your legs, leaning over you. “If we could do that every single day, I do not think there could possibly be such a thing as a bad day.”
“So… still thinking about it?” you asked, running fingers through his hair.
He gave you a mischievous smirk as he leaned down and kissed you, pressing his groin against you, showing you his interest was already peaking again. The man had been blessed with stamina, there was no denying that. “I may need a little more convincing, my lady.”
You grinned up at him, trailing your eyes and your fingers down his neck, over his shoulders, and down his muscular upper body. Your exhaustion suddenly dissipating as renewed interest pulsed between your thighs. “I would be happy to assist.”
“Good,” he said, leaning down to capture your lips again. 
He knew damn well he had made up his mind, but he would never turn down a chance for another round in pound town with you. He was many things but he was not a fool. Except for when it came to you. 
Your lips met once again in a much slower, more sensual kiss and in the back of his mind he heard the melody from that old American 1960’s song by Elvis.
Shall I stay?
Would it be, would it be a sin?
If I can't help falling in love with you
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venelona · 1 month ago
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Write My Report author notes
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Today is one year since I first posted my Dazatsu fic 'Write My Report' (PM Dazai x PM Atsushi, Atsushi works as Dazai's secretary), so as I edit through all 100k+ words of it, I bring you author notes - include my favourite things about the chapters, thoughts behind some moments and fun (?) facts.
!SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE FANFIC!
(fanfic quotes will be in italics, bold italics are just the words that were italics in the quote- it makes sense- i promise-)
Starting with, of course,
Chapter 1:
I think the whole premise of the fanfic was born by that one time Dazai asks Atsushi to write his report for him after Dazai returns from his mafia kidnapping. Second half of the plot with him helping Atsushi conceal his tiger ability was an excuse for them to hold hands every full moon. I thought it would be a shortcut to my beloved 'one bed' trope. And then it didn't shortcut shit because I slow burned the hell out of it
'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'
"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then
I think the whole premise of the fanfic was born by that one time Dazai asks Atsushi to write his report for him after Dazai returns from his mafia kidnapping. Second half of the plot with him helping Atsushi conceal his tiger ability was an excuse for them to hold hands every full moon. I thought it would be a shortcut to my beloved 'one bed' trope. And then it didn't shortcut shit because I slow burned the hell out of it
'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'
"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then
I never described Atsushi's waiter uniform but this is kind of how I imagined it looking. No I don't have explanations. Literally just 'the vision.'
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I guess I never described Atsushi's secretary clothes, tho it's been referenced that he has a jacket. Its also drawn on the cover lol
'He briefly contemplated drowning himself, but he didn't want his last day to be so full of Chuuya, so he decided on another kind of drink tonight.'
Dazai mercelessly shooting the guy in the bar who saw Atsushi transform was one of the things that were supposed to back up that 'Dark Dazai' tag. And then I kinda forgot to make him do more evil things later on lol He kills more people but more off screen and I kinda fumbled that tag ngl
COOL FANART COOL FANART LOOK AT THE COOL FANART something made me hate that scene but then zinder came in and made me love it 😭💖💖💖
'"Ah, you're awake." A vaguely familiar voice called from the doorway.' They caught Atsushi trying to cross the boarder-
The section where Dazai explains Atsushi about how he's the tiger and offers the deal is the only section where one POV breaks and you can see the other, but I decided to keep it. It was written this way because I didn't plan on keeping their POVs very separate, but then they never broke again lol
"Close your mouth, Atsushi, I already saw plenty of your fangs today."
Atsushi never, for even one second, regretting helping Dazai and saying so to him every time 😭🙏
I love writing canon moments altered by whatever the premise of the fic is - in this case, PM Dazai and Atsushi. Canon parallels - Dazai blackmailing Atsushi into the job.
Never really described but Dazai's office is on the first floor in part of it where not a lot of people pass by. All executives have more proper offices but Dazai really just took a room he didn't need a lot of time to get to. That makes Atsushi's work a bit annoying because most mafia clerks work on other floors together and he alone gotta run back and forth
It probably shows but I know nothing of the ways of office paperworks
"Eh, you're doing fiiine." His employer waved from the couch. "You're doing a way better job than I ever did, Atsushi." "How?.." "You're looking at the papers." Dazai smirked. "That's more than I usually do."
Initially one big point of conflict was supposed to be that Dazai holds a very high position in the mafia, so the papers he handles is full of very valuable information. And the fact that he let Atsushi into all of that information gives Atsushi some degree of power in the mafia, but also makes him a target for others... and then this never really came up lol
I don't think this was ever outright stated but Dazai's apartment is on a very high floor - not last one, but still high up. Like, twenty or something. The whole building inhabited by mafia workers, but he's really the only big fish in it
"I can't just make something up! Besides, from the amount of complaining notes-" Atsushi pointed at the hefty pile of papers Dazai was sitting right next to. "People do read your reports." "Oh, you actually read these?" Dazai picked up a few papers from that stack. "I usually just throw them away." "It's not even all of them?!" "Oh, it's probably just from the last three days."
Dazai saying 'Chuuya probably wrote half of the complaints and that's why I am not reading them' is just an excuse. He's just too lazy to read them
Something about Chuuya being described as 'The hat man' is sending me
[Dazai and Chuuya] '"When was the last time I made a wrong decision, hm?" "I don't know, yesterday? In the morning? Five minutes ago?"'
'"Atsushi, you should visit more places." Dazai shook his head. "Do you even go anywhere on your days off?" "I don't have days off." Atsushi blinked at him. Dazai blinked back. "Really?" "You never told me I have any."' - Atsushi never even asking if he has off days for like two weeks 😭 He'd work without them too, that poor man. Dazai gave him Thursday off because that was the only day Dazai himself actually occupied his office before he hired Atsushi. Dazai was fine without an office (he'd find a place to laze around), but people were complaining that he's hard to find when someone wanted to talk to him, and so he told everyone he can be found on Thursdays. After he hired Atsushi he started spending like 50% more of his time in the office because when he wanted to laze around he was like 'might as well do it in the office, I can occupy the couch, I am not alone and people will shout at me less and even praise me for being at work)
'Atsushi shook his head again. He needed to distract himself. "So… that was Akutagawa, huh?" That was probably the worst topic he could've picked for a distraction, but anxiety hasn't let him think of any other at the moment.'
Never elaborated on but in this story other executives have a lot of people that are under their command specifically. Dazai still orders people around and gives them work and stuff, but the only person he hired himself before Atsushi was Akutagawa. So that's why Atsushi is kind of treated like a big deal by other mafia members. Also half the reason why Akutagawa was angry at his existence
Dazai telling Atsushi 'I think you and Akutagawa would work great together' was a nod to New Double Black. He was still envisioning it in his mind even though Atsushi was working as his secretary and didn't use his ability at all, but later on when he started caring for Atsushi he kind of waved that idea off because he didn't want Atsushi using his ability at all
'"Atsushi, I didn't give you a day off today so you could spend it calling me at eight in the morning."'
If you're wandering why I always juggle how I call Dazai (the brunet/the mafioso/the bandaged man) and others is because in school during language lessons one lesson that stuck to me was that you can't use the same word in two sentences in a row, or it'll sound bad. So half my writing comes from me trying to juggle the same words back and forth. h e l p
Never described but I like to imagine that Dazai got panorama windows in his living room. I never stated this because I don't think he would - something like that would up the chances of his enemies finding where he lives and Dazai wouldn't bother risking that. But... that's what my cinematic imagination wants
'"If you planned on holding hands all night, I regret to inform you that I have no habits of flirting with men."' - canon parallel + THAT WAS THE PREMISE OF THE FIC AND I BARELY DID IT 😭😭😭
'"Or you wanted to watch me sleep the whole night? I didn't think you were such a pervert, Atsushi."' - a set up for a joke in chapter 6. Yes. I thought of that stupid joke this far back.
'And, he supposed, watching Atsushi struggle with the paperwork made it a teensy bit more enjoyable to do. By which he meant it was still a nightmare and he'd rather throw himself off this very building than work on it, but still. A little bit more enjoyable.'
I got SO many comments on SO many chapters about 'when Atsushi will tell Dazai about his tragic past'. Either they missed the 'Probably had to do with that orphanage he talked about earlier, but Dazai didn't care for sob stories about the past.' line, or wanted something more- Dazai KNEW, he connected the dots, he just didn't care back then
Dazai was supposed not to care for Atsushi in these earlier stages but I kind of fumbled it and made him too caring a bit too quickly but. Whatever can you do.
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kingofbodyrolls · 10 months ago
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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | series masterlist
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Hi, and welcome to Bora Ranch!
At Bora Ranch you will rediscover who you are, reconnect with your sister, and your childhood friend, Park Jimin, that will stir old feelings back. There's a lot of ups and downs, a lot of heartbreak, misunderstandings, what ifs, bad timing, but in the end, you will know what truly makes your heart beat, and where your heart's home is.
It's a story that will take you on a heartbreaking journey to find out what love is and the meaning of 'home', coming home and finding love. There's a lot of angst in it, I'd call it HEALING ANGST. Everything will be good in the end! Just have to go through a lot of heartbreak before the sun truly shines. There's a lot of soulmates vibes/undertones in it, and it's a lovestory at it's core. It's very romancey (Why do I suddenly feel like I wrote a YA but with mature language???).
This story is HEAVLY inspired by McLoed's Daughters (both the world/setting/plot), some plot points follow that story, but most of it doesn't.
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“It will take some time To find your heart And come back home You could walk for miles Cross every river And find your not alone ‘Cos I'll be there” - From McLeod’s Daughters theme song
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🐴 Summary: You’d never thought you’d step foot back at the ranch– a place you used to call home a long time ago. When you are forced to go back, reconcile with your sister and a certain childhood friend that you had long forgotten, will sparks reunite? 🐴 Pairing: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter)*, jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc *I also want to clarify some things about the tags/pairings! Jungkook x reader only happens once, it is crucial for the sake of the plot, but please don't let that stop you from reading it (I take it you want to read it because of Jimin x reader). Jimin x reader is the main couple! 🐴 Characters: female reader (she’s more like an OC, but isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴 AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, cowboy!au, soulmate!au 🐴 Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst (yes, it’s got everything lol!) 🐴 Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! 🐴 Word count: 230k (epilogue excluded) 🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴 Warnings/tag: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain sexual themes, smut and a lot of sexual tension and a hell of a lot of angst! Like series is an emotional rollercoaster ride, it will leave you both happy, sad, frustrated, mad, angry and oh so in love. All through the series. You have been warned, lol. 🐴 Status: completed 🥳 🐴 Fancy reading on AO3? It is cross-posted there! 🐴 Do you want to see the book cover (there's a teaser too)? [it's here] 🐴 Author’s note: this series is heavily inspired by the TV show McLeod’s Daughters. Some plot points will feel familiar, while others won’t (because I don’t follow that story structure to a tee). But If you love that show that I do, I’m 100% sure you’ll love this story too! Also, I don’t expect people to really be interested in this… this is more of a story about coming home, finding home, finding love and such… and I don’t know if you want to read that sort of thing? But I fucking love it! ✨
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Chapter #1 - Inheritance | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter one
Chapter #2 - It’s a Long Road | word count: 9.1k | read → chapter two
Chapter #3 - Sometimes | word count: 11.8k | read → chapter three
Chapter #4 - It Comes to This | word count: 7.5k | read → chapter four
Chapter #5 - Our Home, Our Place | word count: 11k | read → chapter five
Chapter #6 - Wild Horses | word count: 11k | read → chapter six
Chapter #7 - We Got it Wrong | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter seven
Chapter #8 - Love You, Hate You | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter eight
Chapter #9 - Take the Rain Away | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter nine
Chapter #10 - The First Touch | word count: 16.4k | read → chapter ten
Chapter #11 - This Perfect Day | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter eleven
Chapter #12 - Broken Dreams | word count: 14.4k | read → chapter twelve
Chapter #13 - Love Letter | word count: 13.4k | read → chapter thirteen
Chapter #14 - I Wish the Past was Different | word count: 10.5k | read → chapter fourteen
Chapter #15 - Did I Tell You? | word count: 13.7k | read → chapter fifteen
Chapter #16 - The Stranger | word count: 14.1k | read → chapter sixteen
Chapter #17 - Love of Your Life | word count: 13.3k | read → chapter seventeen
Chapter #18 - By My Side | word count: 14.7k | read → chapter eighteen
Chapter #19 - Home [END] | word count: 18.2k | read → chapter nineteen
Chapter #20 - My Heart's Home [Epilogue + Q&A] | word count: 7.4k | read → chapter twenty
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Please let me know if you're excited for this??? I'm still writing it, and honestly... I love it! But it's tough to write such a long series without any feedback or knowledge whether it's good or sucks... so.. yeah....
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chimcess · 9 months ago
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Waterlog || pjm (2)
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Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.5k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: PINING, sexual tension, sad backstory, parental issues, more than likely bad swimming terminology, probably some bad work out advice, i'm trying my best lol, tae is too much but i love him, talks of past drug use (not reader or jimin), strong language, mental health things, medication use, allusions to depression, did i say pining?, reader is horny and awkward 99% of the time, can we blame her?, mood swings, i think they are so cute together, i promise more romance is coming soon A/N: Howdy. I know we're having a pretty slow start, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. I enjoy a good slow burn, especially when there's so much awkward sexual tension involved. Thanks for reading!!!
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Waking up the next morning, I was greeted by a loud knocking on my door. Stumbling, I told whoever it was that I was on my way. The knocking stopped but was quickly followed by Violet’s loud voice. My things were here, and I needed to let the movers inside.
“Christian and Kook are here already,” She added. “Managed to get an extra pair of hands, too.”
I changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a pull over. It was not supposed to be as cold today, but I did not think a short-sleeved shirt would be enough to keep me warm. Sliding into my boots, I opened the front door.
Violet was there, her hair in a braid again, wearing a blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans. Beside her was Jimin, a large smile already on his face. Two other men were here. I was certain I had seen one of them before. He was very handsome with a heart shaped face and soft chin, large, asymmetrical brown eyes, and downturned lips. His hair was very obviously dyed, the blue so bright when the sun hit it my eyes hurt.
The other man was less familiar. His hair was black, styled into a trendy wolf cut, with his bangs pulled out of his face into a ponytail. He had a pure, youthful, and elegant look about him, and a few piercings. There was one on his eyebrow, one on his bottom lip, and so many on each ear I could not count them all. If I could describe him in a single word, it would be cartoonish. His eyes took up most of his face, large and doe-like, with all of his other features soft and small. Like the blue haired man, he was very handsome.
This upset me more than it should have, because despite how wonderful they both looked, all I could think about was how much I preferred Jimin. It was incomparable, actually. While they were certainly my type, I could only see how not Jimin-like their features were.
“Good morning,” I greeted them awkwardly, my voice scratchy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you both.”
“It’s such an honor to meet you,” The blue haired man’s enthusiasm caught me off guard. Despite me never making the move to shake either one of their hands, he reached for mine anyway. He reminded me of a labrador retriever, and I could imagine a tail wagging in time with his vigorous handshake. “I’m Taehyung Kim. I used to watch you, like, all the time back in the day.”
I knew that name. Studying his face a little more, it hit me. Taehyung Kim, a.k.a., The Seal of Michigan, a.k.a, V. I never understood why he had been given that last one, but it must have some sort of meaning to him because the guy lights up when anyone uses it. He was a famous snowboarder and had been to the 2020 winter Olympics. He was just a few months younger than Jimin.
“That’s very kind of you to say,” I gripped his hand back a bit more now. “I watched you at the last Olympics. You did great.”
He blushed and let go of my hand, “I didn’t win anything, but I had a lot of fun.”
That was true. The kid was brand new on the scene and let some of his nerves get to him. I had learned the hard way that hesitation could ruin a great performance, but I was sure he would do better in January. The Winter Olympics were always a few months ahead of summer, and I would surely be watching Taehyung this year. If I was going to spend time with Jimin then I would need to get along with his friends.
“It’s not always about winning,” I tried to comfort him. “I didn’t win every time either.”
That placated him. Jimin quickly introduced me to Jungkook after. He was an NHL player for the Red Wings. I admitted that I had no idea who he was and never really watched hockey before, but that only made Jungkook swear to make me an avid fan before I left Michigan. For some reason, I believed him.
It did not take long for the movers to get all of my furniture and boxes into the house. With the boys’ help, I was tipping the two men much earlier than I anticipated. All three of them insisted on helping me unpack despite me telling them I could do it on my own. The place was entirely too small for the four of us, but we managed to make it work.
I had told them my bedroom was off limits. I unpacked my clothes and put my underwear away. My room was the largest in the house. With enough space for my full-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, I was pleased. The only downside was not having a closet, but I did not bring anything nice enough for it to really matter. It was inconvenient but not the end of the world.
I was, however, happy to see more color. My blanket was dark orange, pillowcases covered in baby pink cow print, and the otter plushie Namjoon’s mom made me was resting right in between them. I installed some simple shelving above my bed, warmly lit Christmas lights wrapped around the bars, where I displayed my books and a few of my plants. The rest were lined up on the windowsill beside the bed.
Brightly colored art now hung on the walls, a large mirror above my dresser, and a peg board for my earrings made the space feel lived in. Whatever books could not fit on my shelves got stacked and put on the nightstand. I still wanted to buy a rug and curtains, but that was on the bottom of my list of priorities.
The boys were all talking and laughing as they worked which helped me relax. I hated being trapped in quiet spaces. Finished with my room, I went to check in with them and move things around. I doubted any of them would get the knick-knacks just right.
“Don’t worry about the decorations,” I said, announcing my presence. Taehyung was staring at two of my paintings with mild panic. “I’ll take that.”
Snatching the photos, I smiled at him. The living room was coming together nicely. Jungkook pushed the dark green loveseat against the wall and all of my throws were on top of it. My largest potted plant was beside it and I decided then I would keep it there. Moving the throw pillows to the floor, I started to put my wall art up. Hoseok complained that I was going to become a hoarder if I bought any more shit. Andrea, however, said that I had great taste, so I listened to her instead.
“You’re a big face of Earthy colors,” Jungkook said, looking around the house. “Lots of plants, too.”
I shrugged, “My fiancé had a lot of succulents and stuff, so I guess it rubbed off on me after a while.”
In truth, Namjoon not only had succulents and cacti, but an entire apartment filled with plants. He had a small garden in the back, vegetables and herbs growing in despite the weather in Colorado making it difficult. The man had a green thumb and loved taking care of things. I had been in charge of them once we moved in together and learned to love it. Even after he died, I couldn’t imagine not having at least five plants in the house.
I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet. I realized then what I had said. It was the first time I had spoken about Namjoon with any of them. Knowing I had made the atmosphere awkward, I tried to break up the tension.
“What colors do you like, Jungkook?”
I could physically feel the mood lighten.
“Black,” His reply was quick. I groaned. He laughed. “What? I like the clean look.”
“It’s not clean,” I argued. “It’s depressing.”
Taehyung took my side, “My house isn’t as decorated as yours, but I have more going on than either one of them. I’m a huge fan of video games and photography so I have a lot of stuff hanging up.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin chimed in from the bathroom. He placed himself in charge of getting that room squared away. “His place isn’t as nice as yours. It’s all cluttered and disorganized."
“Nu uh,” Taehyung argued childishly.
“Dude, you have stuff everywhere,” Jungkook shot back, handing me another picture frame.
“They’re lying,” Taehyung told me.
“You’re so full of shit, Tae,” Jungkook sighed.
“Literally the dumbest thing to lie about,” Jimin snarkily threw in from the bathroom.
“Bullies,” Taehyung was addressing me again and this time I could not help my chuckles. “They always gang up on me.”
As the boys continued to bicker, I worked. I finished hanging up the art above the sofa and got to organizing the throws. Taehyung had already pulled out my rug, and I started figuring out how I wanted to place all of the floor pillows. Namjoon never used the couch, no one in his family did, and I had become so conscious of their comfort that I always had a large array of pillows on the floor for them to use. After a few years, I had joined them, and I kept up the trend once I moved to the Springs. The sofa was little more than decoration.
“Damn, these are nice.”
Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Jungkook holding up one of my medals. I was positive I had not packed it and the box he was hunched over was completely unfamiliar as well. Embarrassment and anger swelled up in my chest. I had placed Minho and Tilly in charge of coordinating with the movers so I could focus on work and training Hoseok before I left. If I had to guess, Tilly had thought it wise to ship over a large package of my most prized possessions for some God forsaken reason.
“I don’t know why those are here,” I hoped my voice sounded playful and carefree. I did not want another tense moment. “One of my friends must have packed them.”
“Holy shit,” Taehyung was now holding the medal. “These are heavy. You have so many.”
Walking over to the box, I took out the rest of the medals. Tilly had only packed four of the eight Olympic medals I owned, probably running out of room. Framed photos of me swimming, with the rest of my team, and my coach were also in the box. My swimsuit from the last Olympics I competed at was folded at the very bottom of the box, my goggles and cap wrapped up in the fabric, and underneath it was something I had not been expecting. A framed photograph.
I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I was eighteen coming off the back of two major wins and making my mark in the athletic community. I had just moved to Denver; Victor had gotten divorced the year prior and his ex-wife moved to Colorful Colorado taking his daughter with her. My coach demanded he was close enough to see her every weekend. It really did not matter to me where I lived, so it was one of the easier decisions I had to make.
I knew Hoseok lived in the area, and we had always been friendly at the meets we had in common. I ended up getting his number from Ozzie and after getting coffee I knew we would be friends for life. The picture was taken at his New Year’s Eve Party. I needed to get laid, he had said, and he knew a few guys he thought I might hit it off with. That was where I met Namjoon.
He was a college student, fresh faced and stumbling over his words. I was charmed by him almost instantly, even if Hoseok was positive the two of us were too different to last. I could recall the smell of fireworks in the air, the way his voice cracked whenever another one would go off, and how excited his eyes looked whenever I asked him about his major. Namjoon spoke for hours about Philosophy, all of his favorite poets, and the way he believed the universe worked. He was so clumsy it was practically a disability, and the loud sounds were so nerve wracking, he flinched whenever the fireworks boomed.
Picking up the small picture, I smiled. It was taken right after midnight. Hoseok’s sister said we looked so sweet that she could not help herself. I had all but ripped Namjoon’s hair out when the countdown began, kissing him before midnight ever came. His hands rested gently on my hips, and he huffed like he had run a marathon when we finally pulled apart. His breath was hot when he went back in for more, panting into my mouth as I clung to him like an addict. It was a beautiful moment. It was a moment I would never forget.
Suddenly, I was no longer mad at Matilda. I was sure it had been her who did this. Minho would not go through so much trouble if he thought it would upset me. Either way, I was happy to have the picture. While I was no longer in love with Namjoon, my heart slowly healing itself and making space for someone new, I would never forget our time together. It was too perfect, too magical; too loving to forget.
“Is that him?” Taehyung asked. The way he said it told me that he knew what had happened. I doubted there was a person in our world who didn't know. “The guy who died?”
I nodded, “His name was Namjoon.”
“Damn, that’s rough,” Jungkook’s voice was very gentle, and I could hear the compassion in it. “Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re doing okay.”
I smiled at him and nodded, “It was a few years ago.”
Taehyung was the one who broke the moment this time and I was grateful for the reprieve.
“These aren’t all of them, right?” He pointed at the medals still in the box. "Olympic medals, I mean."
I shook my head, “No but I guess she just grabbed the ones I had at my house. The other four I keep at my school. They’re in a case in my office.”
The ones Tilly had packed away were from 2012. Andrea had been the one to convince me to bring my other medals to school. Before that I had them all stored in a box in the deepest corner of my basement. I hated looking at them. Hated everything that they represented. The only reason these had been hanging up was because I could not be bothered taking them down.
“Where should we put them?” Jungkook asked.
I shrugged, “No idea. Just keep them in the box for now.”
Truthfully, I had no intention of putting them anywhere. While happy to have the photo of Namjoon and I, my feelings on dragging these things around had not changed. I would be very upset if I lost or damaged any of this stuff. Putting everything away, save the picture, I closed the box back up and placed the photo on my coffee table. I would find a better place for it later.
Like all of the times I had been around him, Jimin bled into the background. I listened for his voice, waited for him to add something to the conversation, but he kept to himself. Even when he left the bathroom and joined the three of us, he only answered in one-word sentences and made sound effects to show he was listening. Taehyung and Jungkook seemed used to it, so I had to believe this was just how Jimin normally was.
“You should come and grab some drinks with us,” Jungkook smiled at me.
The boys were going out for a late lunch since we finished a little later than we had thought we would. I was appreciative that they had invited me out but declined the offer. All of them were disappointed.
“Why not?” Taehyung wiggled a large set of keys at me. I could not imagine what all of them could be for and the sound they made when they moved bothered me. “You worried the food’s going to suck or something?”
I shook my head, laughing, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel comfortable going to a bar.”
Jimin smiled at me, a small, tight-lipped smile, and I almost laughed at myself when I realized I was holding my breath. I was being ridiculous. I would call Hoseok tonight to get my head screwed back on.
“It’s not a bar,” It was heavenly to hear his voice again. “Taehyung and I don’t drink. Jungkook just likes to sit at the bar so he can watch the games.”
“Oh,” I replied dumbly. “I guess I can come along then.”
Jimin offered to give me a ride while Jungkook and Taehyung rode in the hockey player's beat up Jeep. He was just as quiet on the ride to the restaurant as he was back at the house, and while I wanted to break him out of whatever shell he had put around himself, I had no idea how. We were supposed to work together and barely spoke. Ozzie was not going to be happy about this.
“What time are we getting your car?”
I jumped, not prepared for the question. His eyes were still on the road, and it looked like he was forcing himself to not look my way. It hurt my feelings, but I knew I would have to get over it. Whatever his problem was, it had nothing to do with me and I would not let it get in between our working relationship.
“Whenever you want to go,” I replied, going back to looking out of the window.
“We’ll pick it up after we eat. My mom invited you over for dinner. by the way. If you're up for it.”
This had been the most he had said all day, but his voice was off. It was embarrassing how quickly I had become attuned to his little mannerisms, but I was so sure that something was wrong with him it was eerie. His tone was flat and disinterested, and I knew I had done nothing to upset him. Something was obviously bothering him, and I would have to silently support him in my own way. I was not comfortable being more upfront and something told me that Jimin would not like my overstepping.
“I might,” I purposely kept my tone light, hoping he did not realize I could see the darkness in his eyes. Looking at him, I asked, “What is she making?”
“Beef and radish stew,” The mundane topic seemed to ease his frown. “She got a yellow corvina from the Asian market yesterday so she’s going to roast it. Do you like fish?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “It sounds nice. I’ll go.”
A ghost of a smile graced his pretty face and I felt like I had won the lottery. Carefully composed, I looked back out of the window, hiding my little smile behind my hand. He was quiet again, the only sounds in the car being our breathing, but it felt lighter. Finally, I let myself admire the scenery.
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Taehyung and Jungkook were already at the bar when we arrived and as soon as we sat down, the snowboarder was quick to hog all of my attention. While Jungkook watched a baseball game on the big screens, Taehyung talked animatedly about his family. Jimin was quietly sipping on a Coke in the seat next to me. It was strange to see how easily his friends ignored him. Like they knew he did not feel like talking.
“My sisters are both in college,” Taehyung continued to ramble. “Twins. It was a nightmare being the baby brother.”
I nodded along and tried my best to keep up with him. I kept getting distracted by Jimin. He barely moved and seemed to be mindlessly watching the tv. He looked so sad it broke my heart. Still, no one else said anything so I kept my thoughts to myself.
“Oh!” Taehyung gasped, noticing a few people who walked in. “I’m going to go say ‘hi.’ It was so great meeting you.”
With a bright smile, Taehyung told the boys about the group and Jungkook decided to join him. Jimin did not even acknowledge he had said anything. Leaving us alone, the restaurant was loud and filled with their chattering.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Picking up the menu the bartender had left with Taehyung when we first arrived, I gave it a quick once over. “We can split an appetizer.”
Jimin looked tired and sad, but I did not know what to say or do for him. We were not lovers, not even friends. We were a pair of strangers who were expected to work together. This seemed much easier over the phone. I took a nervous sip of my drink.
“What are you thinking?” Just the sound of him talking eased my anxiety.
“Uh,” I had barely looked at their menu and pointed to a random item. “Fried pickles?”
Jimin smiled lazily and looked at me, his eyes amused.
“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”
I shrugged, embarrassed. “I just said the first thing I saw.”
Putting his cup down, Jimin grabbed the menu from my hands and laid it flat on the bar. We leaned over the small paper, our knees touching. I could smell his cologne now and my mouth watered. He smelled so good I struggled to focus.
“Most of the shit here is awful,” His voice had more life in it now and I was glad to see the corners of his mouth pulled up. “Only things worth getting are the chips and salsa, fried cheese, and pasties. The pizza is fine, too, but not worth the money.”
Talking distracted him from whatever had been on his mind, and it made Jungkook and Taehyung’s behavior odd. They were obviously very close, but if I could see how much happier he looked when he was shooting the shit, how couldn’t they? They probably knew something I didn’t, but it did nothing but rub me the wrong way. My friends would annoy me until I had no choice but to talk back.
“Chips are usually pretty safe,” We both agreed on it. “Do you just want chips? I don’t mind getting you a burger or something.”
He shook his head, “Like I said, most of the shit here is awful. Don’t waste your money.”
I ordered the chips for us, and the bartender was happy to help us out. This place was pathetically empty save us and the group Jungkook and Taehyung ditched us for. They were very loud and rowdy, something Jimin said was completely normal. Apparently, they all knew one another but he hadn’t felt like spending time with any of them.
“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, heart pounding. My anxiety over the question was ridiculous, but I felt like this was a good moment to ask. We were both comfortable and the tightness around his eyes was finally eased.
“Just one of those days,” He replied, voice soft.
I sighed, “I get them, too. They’re the fucking worst.”
He chuckled darkly, “It’s like you wake up and that’s already taken all of the energy you had for the day.”
“Why’d you come to the house?” I asked, flagging the bartender for a refill. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you bailed.”
Jimin flushed, “I said I was coming so I came.”
No, I thought, you thought I was going to be mad if you hadn’t shown up. Hamilton had this poor kid so fucked up and scared it pissed me off. As long as I knew Matt, he had always been an ass, but to think he had his trainee putting shit before his mental health and wellbeing made whatever sliver of respect I had for him vanish.
I took a long sip of my drink, “We can’t work together if you don’t talk to me. That will piss me off way more than you canceling on me.”
“Okay,” He let out a very large breath. “I’ll let you know next time.”
As we ate our chips, we moved into safer waters. Jimin was still less talkative in person, but nowhere near as tense as he had been all morning. I found that music was one of his favorite things, and I discussed my own interests in more depth and detail than I ever had before. Jimin’s taste was varied but stuck mostly in 90s R&B and soft Indie artists I had never heard of. At some point I ordered spicy wings and had to admit Jimin was right- they really were awful.
We left the other two behind to go and pick up my car. Jungkook and Taehyung seemed more than happy to watch us leave and the large table barely acknowledged my presence. Jimin accepted their happy shouts when he approached, hugging the ones who stood up to greet him, and forced one of his small, pitiful smiles at a particular brunette who kept batting her eyelashes at him. He introduced me but none of them seemed to really care. Especially the brunette.
“Let me get your number,” Taehyung said to me, holding out a hand for my phone. “We need to hang out again.”
I was nervous about giving him a way to contact me. He reminded me of Tilly, though ten times more energetic, and she always found a way to get on my nerves (the box being one of many examples). Taehyung had yet to overstep the imaginary boundaries I had, but his complete lack of personal space etiquette was astounding. He touched me more in one day than any of my friends in an entire year. He seemed like the type of person to text every day and send a million pictures of himself doing random shit. Even with that in mind, I handed my phone over. He was too nice to say no to.
“Do you like sushi?” Taehyung asked, handing me my phone. “There’s a great place in Detroit we can go to.”
The idea of being trapped in a car with the snowboarder for 45 minutes was not appealing. I could only imagine how much he could talk when he was really excited about something. I would entertain the idea if Jungkook or Jimin came as a buffer, especially if one of them could sit up front. Taehyung yapping away in my ear would give me the biggest migraine I had ever had, and my anxiety over not being entirely focused on the road would make me snippy and rude.
“Only if I can come,” Jungkook piped up. “You’re not going to Bash without me, dude.”
“Well yeah,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Y/N has to meet Milo and Darcy,” He looked at me, grinning happily. “I think you would really get along.”
I had no idea who either of those people were, but I did not want to ask any questions. Jimin was inching back towards me and telling the others goodbye, and I did not want to hold him up. Taehyung started making plans that I did not pay any attention to. He could always text me when he figured out what he wanted.
“We have to get going,” Jimin was back beside me. “Y/N’s car is sitting at the dealership. It was good seeing everyone.”
I waved at the table and started walking away before Taehyung could touch me. He was definitely a hugger. Jimin was quick to catch up with me, giggling about my “escape.” It had started to snow again, gentle flurries twisting and turning in the wind, and I had forgotten my heavy jacket at home. The long sleeve I was wearing would do nothing to keep me warm.
“Here,” Jimin taking off his jacket. “You need this more than me.”
Draping it over my shoulders, Jimin told me to zip it up. Stunned, I moved on autopilot and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Everything smelled like him, oranges and spice, and his warmth was still clinging to the thick fleece. I could not remember the last time someone had given me their jacket. Dazed, I followed Jimin out to the parking lot, eyes locked on his back. He was in nothing but a thin, black and white striped shirt.
“Thanks,” I said once we were both in the truck, already shrugging out of the light beige jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He held up a hand, “Keep it. The heater is out.”
I shook my head, “What about you?”
He reached into the back and held up a purple hoodie.
“I’ll be alright.”
I put the jacket back on and buckled in. Jimin slipped into the sweatshirt and started the truck. After buckling up, he backed out of the parking lot. I caught sight of the brunette as we left. She was red faced, shouting into her phone. I looked away. Whoever she was angry with was definitely getting an earful.
“Wonder what Tom did this time,” Jimin mumbled.
“Hm?”
“Tom’s Annie’s boyfriend,” He supplied. “They’re always arguing. Worse than Jungkook and Darcy, they break up every other week, but Tom and Annie are at each other's throats every other day.”
I grimaced, “Sounds like my friends. They finally called it quits last year, but they were insufferable.”
Jimin chuckled, “So, what’s Colorado like?”
I talked to him about Andrea and Seokjin first, how we met and how much I loved their daughter. Hoseok and I’s friendship got quite a few laughs out of him, but those quickly died off when I brought up Namjoon. I told him about the day we met and the coffee date that happened a few days later, and that seemed to brighten up the mood again. Namjoon stories were bittersweet but took up such a large chunk of my life it was impossible to gloss over.
“When’s the toxic couple coming up?” He joked.
“I’m getting there,” I replied.
Hoseok and Matilda had known one another longer than the rest of us. Growing up together, no one was surprised when they finally hooked up in high school. It was, however, short lived bliss. Matilda got caught up in the wrong crowd and began doing drugs. Hoseok had tried to help her get through it, but they could never see eye-to-eye. That started their toxic cycle of getting back together, Tilly going to rehab, her relapsing, and them falling out again. It was not until she went two years ago that it managed to stick, but their relationship was too tumultuous to make it very far. They decided to stay friends and she became a constant member in our group.
“That’s crazy,” Jimin shook his head. “Happy she’s doing better now.”
“Me too.”
The rest of the drive was spent talking about Colorado and how beautiful it was. He stayed away from swimming, mostly wanting to hear about the school I worked at and the places I went to in my free time. He kept me talking for the entire 45-minute car ride, question after question keeping me on my toes. He did not like talking about himself, whenever I tried to switch the conversation to his own interests he barely responded before going back to his interrogation. Before I knew it, we were pulled into the dealership and getting down.
“You can leave,” I told him.
“I want to make sure you’re good before I go,” He replied.
The cashier was lovely, her voice bubbly and sweet as she helped me out. Jimin lingered longer than he needed to, helping me fill out my paperwork and making small talk with the dealer. I took my keys and went for a quick test drive before I was finally able to convince Jimin to leave.
The drive back was quiet. I was used to the silence when I drove, but Jimin’s voice had been soothing. Frankly, I was a bit bored without him around. I decided to call Matila and ask about my medals. She apologized but I doubted how sincere she actually was. After catching up with her, hearing all about the guy she went on a date with, and a five-minute rant about Hoseok spending way too much money on Minho’s birthday present, I hung up before she could give me a migraine. As much as I liked Tilly, she was someone I had very little patience for and her voice, high pitched and loud, was like nails on a chalkboard.
I got back in town a little after 3. Violet and Calvin were both home and watching some black and white Western. Calvin offered to make me lunch, but I was quick to decline. I just wanted some space.
As soon as I got in my apartment, I curled up in bed to take a nap. I was overwhelmed after talking so much and desperately needed to recharge. I set an alarm for 5 so I could make it over to the Park house in time for dinner. Quickly sending a quick text to Hoseok, I turned on thunderstorm sounds and closed my eyes.
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Na-Yeon and James were both excited to see me, talking about their days and asking how I was settling in. Eloise was there as well, the twins in the back room playing again. Jimin was going to be late. He had gone for a last-minute swim with Milo. When I asked them who that was, it was Eloise who answered.
“That’s Vincent’s fiancé.”
“Who?” I was even more confused.
“Taehyung,” Na-Yeon answered. “You know he hates that name as much as Jimin hates his, Lou."
Eloise blushed, her entire face turning a bright shade of red.
“Sorry,” She scratched behind her ear. Looking back at me, she sighed, “We went to school together. Old habit.”
Now V made sense. It never occurred to me that Jungkook and Taehyung could have their own American names, and neither one introduced themselves that way either. James came to take the seat beside mine, the dining table more crowded then was reasonably necessary.
“Does Jungkook have a second name?” I asked.
“Ian,” Eloise replied. “He goes by both, so I don’t think he cares as much as Tae and Jimin. I know his girlfriend uses both.”
I assumed that was Darcy. Why else would Taehyung assume she would go with us on a day trip to Detroit?
“They call him Ian on the team, too,” James chimed in. “His name is too hard.”
Namjoon never had an American name, at least, not one I had ever heard. The only person I could think of was Hoseok. A lot of his friends called him Jay, something about an old nickname from school, but that was it. Seokjin just went by Jin, Namjoon went by Joon, and Minho went by…well, Minho. None of their parents used American-Friendly names, and Seokjin’s father’s English was still poor even after living here for so long.
“Y/N,” Na-Yeon brought me back to the conversation. “What banchan do you like?”
“My eomeo-nim made these delicious, braised potatoes,” I answered, thinking back on our dinners together. “Kimchi, of course. My ex made the best braised lotus roots. They were always yummy.”
Na-Yeon seemed pleased by my answer. James and Eloise started rambling about their own favorites. Unlike Namjoon, Mr.Park was a big fan of seafood. He grew up in Busan near the Jagalchi Market, which, according to him, was the largest seafood market in South Korea. Eloise talked a little about her favorite Korean dishes before jumping into what she grew up eating. Her father was Scottish and her mother French, so one night she was eating Scottish Pie and daube niçoise the next. It was fun hearing more about Eloise. I would have never guessed she was a first generation American.
“It’s something Tony and I had in common,” She added. “He learned quite a bit of French before he died. Unfortunately, my Korean is taking much longer.”
“Mine isn’t that great either,” I admitted. “Namjoon’s family spoke English and never liked to make me feel awkward. I can follow a conversation fairly well, but only if you speak slowly.”
James laughed, “I will remember that.”
The front door opened, and I could hear loud talking. Eloise sighed. Whoever was with Jimin did not pass her inspection it would seem. She and James seemed to have a small conversation with their eyes. The men were still at the front of the house. Finally, Eloise looked away and scowled.
“Must have brought Milo and Tae over,” She muttered. “I’m going to go check on the twins.”
Eloise left the table. James told me to ignore her. She and Milo did not get along for whatever reason and she chose to ignore him. It was not my business, so I accepted that explanation.
I prepared myself for a bad interaction. So far, Eloise was such a quiet and sweet person I could not imagine anyone actively disliking her. Then again, this was Taehyung’s fiancé, and he was the nicest, most bubbly person I had ever met. It did not seem likely that he would hang around bad company. It could just be a case of personalities clashing.
“Annyeong,” Taehyung greeted us brightly, immediately finding me. “Babe, come say hi.”
A massive, pale man followed in behind him. Milo was a good-looking guy, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, with a solid build. He reminded me of the male swimmers I worked with, his huge size and bulging muscles intimidating. His fashion sense was not as good as Taehyung’s. Ill-fitting black bottoms and a Rick and Morty t-shirt that made me want to roll my eyes. I was definitely biased, my loyalties already in Eloise’s corner. I did not need to know a backstory to be weary. The dude looked enough like Matthew Hamilton to make me dislike him just off principal.
“Milo, Y/N,” Taehyung introduced, gesturing between the two of us. Behind him, Jimin snuck into the kitchen and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He looked nice in his gray tracksuit. “Y/N, this is my fiancé, Milo.”
I managed a disingenuous smile, “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” He replied. His voice was smokey.
“Where’s Lou?” Jimin asked, coming around to greet his father.
“Checking on Harper and Cam,” James told him.
There was not enough room for all of us to sit at the table and I ended up giving up my seat to Na-Yeon. Jimin helped her set the table while I was put in charge of gathering Eloise and the kids. Walking down the hallway, I found the kids’ playroom and knocked.
“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, poking my head inside.
The room was bigger than I thought it would be. Each side was decorated in stereotypical boy and girl colors, Cameron’s bed and wall art a wide variety of blues and teals with dinosaur decals on the walls, while Harper’s was a mix up of baby pink and white. Her bed had more stuffed animals on it than I could count and all of them seem well loved. Their toys split the room in half, a large, circle rug in the middle of it all. Most of the toys were thrown on the floor and Eloise was telling them it was time for them to clean it up.
The children looked so cute in their little matching outfits. Harper’s black hair was braided down her back and the ribbon tied at the end of it matched her cream-colored overalls. Cam’s hair was on the longer side as well, falling to his shoulders with a slight wave. His bright red converse stuck out against the rather plain outfit he was wearing, and I had to assume he put up a fight behind them. Harper started to sing the Barney song as they cleaned.
“Feeling, okay?” I asked their mother. She was sitting in the chair on Harper’s side. “You ran off pretty quickly.”
She shook her head, “It’s nothing. We’ve never gotten along.”
I raised an eyebrow, “Do you want to eat here? I’ll sit with you.”
She smiled, “We can play nice, don’t worry. Thanks, though. I appreciate you asking.”
Dinner was as uneventful as Eloise said it would be. She and Milo greeted one another and then acted as if the other did not exist. I stood up to eat, Taehyung, Milo, and Jimin with me while the others sat down. Cam was excited to talk about school and Harper rambled on and on about her imaginary friend Butter Squash. They were both very sweet and it made me miss Dani. The last time I saw her was when we went skating the weekend before I left.
Taehyung was as talkative as ever. His touches also become bolder. By the time I left, he had an arm around my shoulders and his body pressed against my side. Milo was unbothered by our closeness. He and Jimin spoke the most and again the guy I knew when no one else was around seemingly vanished. This one was too put together, too closed off, and no one, and I mean no one, seemed to care. Every time he laughed half-heartedly or nodded along with whatever Milo was talking about, I felt more confused. Why was he so hot and cold all of the time?
During my drive back home, I tentatively attempted to listen to the radio. I only lasted around a minute or so before I switched it off. I needed silence. The Parks were such a lovely family, but tonight was too much. Between unpacking and Taehyung, I was drained. Hoseok had asked me to call him when I got home but I was going to wait. If it was important enough, he would call me himself.
I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow, my medication making it a dreamless night.
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The rest of the week was quiet. I called my friends back home to check in Thursday morning and was happy about Hoseok’s progress. The kids were really liking him, and he thought he may have a permanent job for next year if I decided to keep working with Jimin. I told him not to get his hopes up.
Jimin and I spoke through text daily. He was still going about his normal routine while I brainstormed training and scheduling. By Saturday I was ready to start testing out different ideas. We both seemed eager to get started, actually. Sunday, like I expected, was very quiet. That was his mom’s day, so I tried not to bother him. Violet and Calvin kept me company.
The Andersons were nice people. Violet was always coming to the back and inviting me to join them for breakfast, and her husband enjoyed asking me about my life. Calvin was far more personable than his wife was, but they managed to balance one another out. Sunday evening was the first time I noticed Calvin’s memory issues. He had no idea who I was. I came inside and Violet had to tell him I was their daughter Nancy’s babysitter. He was under the assumption that she was still 10. I left them alone when Violet asked me to pick her up from school. She came out back a few hours later to thank me for going along with everything, and I made sure that she had my phone number in case she needed me to help out if things got out of hand.
It was still dark outside when I left Monday morning. Jimin and I agreed to meet up at 6 am to start our day, but I wanted to get to the gym early. Time to set up and get myself in the right headspace was important to me.
The location he had sent me was more remote than I had originally anticipated. Jimin owned the little gym. It had been a swim school in the past and the place he had first learned he loved the water. He and his mom went to classes together when he was young. The place had been too expensive for the previous owners to keep up with and they were planning on selling it, but Jimin bought it off of them and converted it into a public gym/pool.
In our text exchanges he called it his retirement plan, but I was sure the place meant more to him than that. He had no interest in it until after the cancer diagnosis. If I was to over analyze it, I would say he was trying to hold onto a happy memory. This was their place before sickness and death ran through his family. I would imagine anyone would want to keep something that held so much sentimental value if they could.
Pulling into the parking lot, I was first struck by two things. One, it was open and there were people inside, and two, it was huge. Most of the building was nothing but windows giving me a great view of the muscled men inside. Bright fluorescent lights made my sensitive eyes hurt, and I could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere near the gym. The small group of men were together, all of them lifting and spotting each other while talking, and a sense of dread filled my belly.
I was always anxious when I went to a new place, but a new gym was a nightmare. I had bad experiences in the past. Overly friendly creeps who liked to stand around and watch me while I worked out. None of the guys inside gave off bad vibes, but I was still in my car and none of them laid their eyes on me. A woman in a gym was like a drop of blood in water. I had to hope they were not sharks.
Gathering courage, I grabbed my duffle and made my way inside. A pretty, dark-skinned, young woman was sitting at the receptionist desk, and I felt more at ease. If they left her alone then maybe they would not cause me too much trouble either. The music was louder inside, and I recognized the Ciara song. It was a great one for cardio. Fighting the urge to dance, I greeted the receptionist. She put down her magazine and gave me an award-winning grin. She had a nice, dimpled smile.
“Hi there,” She had a thick, Southern accent and I could not tell you where she might be from. I was awful at telling them apart. “Do you have your membership card?”
I laughed nervously, my grip on my bag tightening. “No. I’m here to train with Jimin Park. He said I should have something on file.”
She nodded, her smile unwavering as she looked at her computer and asked for my name.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” I replied, foot tapping along to the Lil Wayne song that came on. I had this one on my own workout playlist back in 2008. I could not help mumbling the words under my breath, “She-she-she lick me like a lollipop.”
“Found you,” The girl grabbed a few sheets of paper from a pile on her side of the desk. “Just fill these out for me and we’ll get your card printed. Your fees have been paid already so no need to worry about that.”
I nodded, half listening. This song was great. Why has it been so long since I last heard it? I went to the gym all the time. I needed to put it back on my playlist. Honestly, the entire Carter III needed to find its way back into my rotation.
“My name’s Giselle if you need anything,” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of chairs right at the front entrance. “You’re super early so Christian isn’t here yet, but I’ll give you the key to the pool room so you can do whatever you need before the boss gets in.”
I smiled at her, “Thank you, Giselle.”
“Anytime, ma’am.”
It took me a few minutes to fill the paperwork out and scan my ID, but Giselle made everything as quick as she could. One of the men working out had come by to ask for some wipes to clean off a few of the machines but left without anything more than a ‘good morning’ thrown in my direction. When we passed by the rest of them on the way to the pool house, we were completely ignored, so it was safe for me to say that they would not be a problem for me in the future. Creeps were never subtle about their creepiness.
“I have to double check with Christian, but I think I’m supposed to give you a spare key,” Giselle said, unlocking the pool. “I’m just going to be sure before I promise you anything. Don’t want to get fired.”
I could tell she was joking. Jimin did not strike me as the type of guy to fire anyone over something like that. It only made sense for me to have a spare key since we would be coming around so much, and I would feel bad about disrupting the staff whenever I needed to get inside. They did not get paid enough to deal with that on top of all of the rest of their duties.
“We keep it locked until 9,” Giselle continued, leading the way inside. “Then we close it back up at 5. Maintenance comes in every Tuesday to treat the water, so you’ll have to be out of here no later than 7. Boss man knows this already so you shouldn’t have any problems with that.”
The pool room was very bland and bare bones. The smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air while the lights around the pool walls illuminated the dark room. It was very big, and I itched to go for a quick dip. The coolness of the water would be nice against my skin. I had grown hot with nerves and gotten a little sweaty.
“We have a few other staff members that will be in around the same time the boss man comes in,” Giselle continued to give me the rundown. “I’m sure he’ll introduce you to everyone just in case you need anything. I’d say make nice with Yoongi first. He’s our in-house massage therapist.”
Pointing to a door on the far-left wall, Giselle let me know that was the pool locker room and the door right next to it was a shortcut to the back offices. Management, marketing, and facility supervisors were usually all back there and I would more than likely never see them. They were not the most social people and worked from home a lot. I could tell by Giselle’s voice that she did not particularly care for management.
“Drew should be here by now,” She checked her smart watch. “She’s the general manager. I’m going to go and grab her and see about that key. She might come back to say ‘hi’ but don’t hold your breath.”
I chuckled, “That bad?”
Giselle rolled her eyes, “Drew’s fine, but Dominic is usually following her around everywhere and he’s annoying. You’ll get what I mean if you ever see them together.”
I laughed, “I’ve had my fair share of weirdos. Thanks again. I appreciate you showing me around.”
She beamed, “It wasn’t a problem. You gave me a reason to get up from the desk, so I’d say it’s a win.”
We spoke for a few more minutes until a very large, bulky man popped his head in looking for her. His black t-shirt clung to him tightly and his shorts were a hideous neon pink color. He did have a nice smile, one that took up most of his face and teeth so white they looked fake. Giselle introduced me very quickly, and the man, Sam, turned out to be one of the personal trainers on staff.
“You’re the Olympian, right?” Sam asked. Jimin must really like people who talked a lot, because I had never met more outgoing people in my life before moving here. Everyone he surrounded himself with was just full of energy, and I wondered if it was purposeful. Jimin himself was a rather quiet and sad person. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”
I laughed awkwardly, face heating, “That’s me.”
“Sick,” Suddenly an image of Sam surfing in California flashed through my mind. He just seemed like the type. “Well, I have to go and help out a client, but it was nice meeting you. Gigi, can you go back up front before Drew pitches a fit?”
Giselle sighed heavily, “Tell her I’m coming,” Looking at me she asked if I was okay on my own. “Come and get me if you need anything, okay?”
After assuring her that I was fine, Giselle left behind Sam. The two of them bickered like an old married couple, and I wondered about their relationship. He did call her a little nickname. I shook my head. Regardless, I had other things I needed to take care of before I could get lost in thought about two strangers.
Unpacking my duffle, I threw on my whistle and stopwatch before getting to work on my schedule. I had brought a lot of my personal swimming gear with me like training bands, coach communicator, and forearm fulcrum. Back in the day, I was the brand ambassador for Finis, so I had a lot of their products. The tracksuit I was wearing was from Speedo, and I had so much of their stuff for the same reason. Being a famous swimmer had its perks.
I had planned on doing a lot of drill and some short-burst efforts with Jimin. He had been without a PT for a few weeks now, and while I trusted him to stay in shape, it was no secret someone would be performing less on their own than with guidance. I did not want to over work him when he was, for all intents and purposes, been on a vacation. So, while I wanted to rush head-first into training, I would try to ease into things a bit before going full asshole on the kid. Like Victor would say, “Three times a week for three weeks.” After that, he was going to be at my mercy.
It was just past 6 when Jimin walked into the pool room. I was flipping through my training plan for the day and humming along to the music blasting through the speakers, echoing off the walls. Whoever was in charge of the playlist had a thing for the early 2000s.
“Morning,” His soft voice brought a smile to my face. He sounded tired. “What do you think about the place?”
Stealing a look at him, I had to hold back the gasp that I wanted to let out. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts giving me a great look at his skin. Embarrassed by my reaction, I internally scolded myself. I needed to get over this crush already. I was about to see a lot more of his body once he went to the back to change. I bit my lip. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him in a speedo.
“It’s very nice,” I was happy with how nonchalant I sounded. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”
I wonder what else is big… I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that- I should have dealt with this problem the second I realized it was there. I was going to force myself to call Hoseok today. He would know what to do, and if not, at least I could vent a little.
“Sleep okay?”
I jumped out of my ever-degrading thoughts.
“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Had fun with your mom? I wanted to give you two some space, so I stayed to myself.”
He smiled and I melted. Yeah, this needed to stop. I was too grown to be acting like this around a man.
“I appreciate it. We missed you at dinner, though. My dad kept complaining that things were quiet now.”
I chuckled, “Eloise and the kids not loud enough?”
He shook his head, “She didn’t come over.”
He tossed his sports bag next to mine and pulled out his swim gear. I caught a flash of his speedo and quickly looked away. The visuals going through my mind were distracting enough.
“Do you want to go over everything before I get changed?” Asked Jimin.
I shook my head, “No, go ahead. It’s going to be a chill day.”
“You got it, coach.”
I did not breathe until I heard the locker room door slam shut. Tossing my clipboard onto my bag, I roughly rubbed my face. I needed to pull myself together.
My attraction was easy to ignore and forget about when he was not in my face, but the second I got my eyes on him it was all I could focus on. I was awkward and fumbling all over the place whenever he was around. I focused on him far too much, far more than I should be due to our relationship, and it was driving me insane. I needed to take a breather, but I did not have enough time and I did not want to make him worried. Jimin seemed like the type of person who would become consumed by anxiety if he thought I was upset with him in any way. No, I would have to suck it up and get through this training session like an adult.
The locker room door opened. Jimin’s bare feet were loud against the gray, stone floor. I refused to look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. Bending over, I grabbed the clipboard and cleared my throat. I was hoping to get him in the water first, and then I could safely conduct myself in a professional way. The less skin I had to see at a time the better. I pointed at the pool.
“Like I said, it’s going to be an easy day,” He was walking away from me, and I felt the tightness in my chest lighten. “You’ve been without a trainer for a bit, and I’m not sure how intense your workouts have been since. Your warmup is just 10 minutes of easy swimming, and then we’ll go over our main set.”
I heard him get into the water with a splash and relaxed. I could handle him in the water. No one looked good with those stupid goggles on. I walked to the edge of the pool, clipboard in my hand, and stole a quick look.
As suspected, he did not look as potent like this. His hair was hidden beneath a red and white cap, and blue goggles obstructed most of his face. It was impossible to make out most of his body as he glided through the water, but I got a great look at his arms. He was more muscular than I gave him credit for. He was smaller and more lean than other swimmers, but I could see why he was able to dominate.
He was very fast, but I could already tell he was pushing harder than I wanted him to. Blowing my whistle, I let him know I only wanted him swimming at 80% effort. Jimin pulled a face and lifted his goggles up. Now that he was stagnant, I got a clear look at his chest and swallowed thickly. He needed to start moving or else I might have a heart attack.
“Why?” He was incredulous.
“Like I said, I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’ve been on a vacation for four weeks now and we need to work our way back up to more intensive sets. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”
He pushed back again, “I’ve been coming here every day for hours. I think I’m fine.”
I shook my head, “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m not calling you a liar, but I am skeptical of the quality of the training.”
“But-”
“I haven’t been here to see your routine,” I cut him off before whatever smart ass comment he was planning to say could even come out. Jimin’s annoyance was plain as day, and I was not about to put up with a tantrum. “I’m known for being a hard ass, and I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. You can ask Coach Bunch about me if you want. I will make sure you’re in the best shape of your life this year, but not at the expense of getting you injured.”
He took a deep breath before responding, “With all due respect, I’ve been putting in a lot of work by myself. I don’t think I need kid gloves.”
I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “Is that what you think this is?”
“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, pouting.
He was cute when he was mad.
“Humor me,” I replied. ���We do things my way for the week and if I think you’re good to go by Friday then we’ll get back to normal training. How does that sound?”
Jimin thought for a moment before smiling at me.
“I can live with that.”
I chuckled, “Good to know. Now, put your goggles back on and finish your warmup. We’re wasting time arguing.”
As I suspected, once we started our drills, he did not perform up to the standards I had for him. Even at 75% what he was capable of, I could already see the areas he needed to work on. His butterflies were beautiful, but I could pick apart his breast and back strokes. I was happy with his free swim at the end, and I was going to start there the next session. I was hoping by starting off with compliments that we could become more comfortable with one another before I had to get serious. Those breast strokes would drive me insane until he could execute them perfectly every time.
“How am I doing?” Jimin asked during a cool down, doing a few laps before we started our drills again. “I know my breast strokes aren’t that great. I’ve always struggled with them.”
At least he was self-aware, I thought.
“We definitely have stuff to work on,” I replied. “Don’t worry too much about that right now. We can start talking about it more next week.”
He sighed, annoyed, and I laughed. He was very grumpy when it came to his swimming. Not wanting to upset him again, I decided to give him something.
“I would like to watch you swim a bit more and make a plan before giving you my opinion. My coach used to do that with me, and I found it helpful.”
We trained until eight-thirty, and I looked over my notes while Jimin cooled down. We did not talk as much as I would have liked, but it was probably for the best. His body was distracting, and I did not think I was doing a very good job at hiding my reactions to him. He did not seem to notice, or he was simply sparing my feelings, either way he was happy to keep relatively quiet. We only talked about training while he was in the water, and I was grateful he was maintaining his professionalism.
“When will we be back again?” Jimin asked, his last few minutes running down on the timer. “You said Wednesday, right?”
I nodded absentmindedly, in my own little world as I flipped through my notes. I had more than I thought I would have, all of them having to do with fixing his form and how we could go about it. New exercises, grueling training days, and a few new tools that I was not sure he had ever used before, would mold him into a swimmer I would glow with pride over. Park had always been a talented man, but I wanted to see if we could reach for something more. Something bigger and better than he could have imagined. I wanted to make Matthew fucking Hamilton look like the incompetent bastard I knew him to be.
“We’re done for the day,” I sighed, clicking the alarm off. “Do you want me to come for your night swim?”
Jimin ripped the goggles off, rubbing his eyes and already going to release his cap. I bit down on the inside of my mouth. He was so pretty and soft, and the way his muscles flexed as he swam to the edge of the pool made my stomach flutter. I looked away before he hoisted himself out of the water. I did not need that image floating around in my already depraved head.
“You can come if you want,” He replied casually. “I’m mostly hitting the gym when I’m here in the evenings. I only take a dip for thirty minutes and leave.”
I hummed, fighting the urge to look at his body. I focused instead on my breathing and writing down what he had just said. I did not want to forget that. It might be useful for me in the future. If we could exercise together, it would give me an opportunity to guide him through some of my favorite tricks to help with swimming.
“Will someone else be with you?”
“Probably Jungkook and Darcy. They’re my usual gym buddies when Milo is working.”
“Darcy’s his girlfriend, right?” I wanted to see if my hunch from the other night was right.
“Yeah. They’ve been going out for a couple of years now. She’s alright. Not as shy as you.”
I snorted, “You think I’m shy?”
Then I made a critical mistake. Looking over at Jimin, I nearly choked on my own spit. His skin was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, and cream-colored. His body was just as pretty as his face, smooth abs and a tiny waist that led to toned and thick thighs. The tiny scrap of red fabric covering his private area did not stop my eyes from glancing. I looked away before I started to stare.
Hoseok was going to have a field day with this.
“I know you are,” He teased, his voice so soft and sweet. I briefly wondered what he would sound like in bed. I fought desperately to rid myself of that imagery. This could not be happening right now. “You’re so shy you can’t even look at me right now.”
His cocky attitude should have annoyed me, but instead it only further fueled my lust. Every time I had seen this man, he gave me such tonal whiplash it was beginning to drive me insane. First it was this innocent little angel facade that quickly became sarcastic and witty when he decided he could play around without me getting angry. Then it was the whole sad puppy thing he had going on for the last week. Now here he was, practically naked and getting riled up over me telling him what to do, and puffing his chest with confidence I never thought he was capable of. It would have pissed me off if I did not find him ridiculously attractive.
“Go get dressed, Park,” My voice was clipped and too harsh. I winced and quickly worked to soften the blow. Getting defensive only made me look worse. “We can get breakfast if you’re not busy. My treat.”
“Sure, coach.”
When I heard the locker room close, I let out a deep sigh. My sexual frustration was getting in the way of my work, and I hated it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I sent Hoseok a text.
Me: I think I’m crushing on Park
Me: Help me get rid of it
The reply did not come until I was done packing up my things. The workout stuff I had brought with me had been useless today, but I was afraid of forgetting where they were the next time I might need them, so they never left the bag. My phone vibrated just as I was done zipping up my bag. I could hear the shower in the locker room and clenched my thighs together. I was still thinking of how pretty his belly was, the tattoo on his ribs pitch-black against his pale skin, and how solid his calves looked. I unlocked my phone and nearly cried laughing when I saw the response.
Hobi: HAHAHAHA
Hobi: Sex is always the answer
Hobi: Never thought I’d see the day you became a cougar
I have no idea why I thought he would be any help. So, I licked my wounds and messaged Andy (like I should have done in the first place) and knew whatever she had to say would be far more helpful than my stupid best friend’s word of “advice.” I just had to hope it would be enough to make all of these feelings stop.
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Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga
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© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.
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spaghettiposts · 4 months ago
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Who are some of your favourite writers here?
That's a tough one because I love A LOT of them, but here are the ones that have stuck out to me.
Firstly I'll talk about some Wanda writers:
@mionemymind: one of the most compelling writers out there. I think I have a personal bias because we're similar and share similar interests (star wars lol), they've literally written a star wars based wanda fic!!! Apart from that they have really good one shots and stories. My personal favorite one shots have to be To Be Loved Is To Be Considered, The Actress & The Geek, and my personal favorite Blood Drive.
Aside from being a writer Mionemymind is also a really great person to the community and friends, and I can't tell you how many times I've smiled because of their reblogs. Truly awesome sauce.
@targaryenmarvel: From the moment her story "Fallin all in you" came onto my feed, I was desperately hooked. Absolutely one killer of a story and I can't wait for more. Really great writing and its just so perfect, that story meant everything to me at one point <3
@fortuositywritings: I love everything about this authors writing, but my most favorite thing about their style is the humor. It's so natural and well paced, it makes me smile without fail every time. They aren't as active, and I hope they're doing amazing but if I could let this author know that their series I Said No, and Love Bug changed my writing forever, I would do it in a heartbeat. They're one of the reasons I'm writing for Wanda here today.
@ziggyzolch: I discovered their fic on ao3 first and I've got to say it has me hooked. They deal with more serious topics on series and its one of my favorite parts about their style, honestly Your Prettiness is Seeping Through has got to be hands down one of my favorite series in 2024. Amazing work and great representation to those who need it.
And lastly @wandascosmic: I haven't seen much of her until today but her new series you belong with me has quickly become so special to me that I can't help but mention her. The humor between reader and Sam is amazing, but also the interactions between reader and Wanda have my heart aching so sweetly. I feel like a leech with how quickly I've sunk into this story, you belong with me is so sweetly written and I enjoy every second of it. Amazing work.
Now for the Jenna Ortega fandom, I think I have quite a list. There's so many amazing writers out there it's crazy, I'm always so well fed by both fandoms.
I've got to start out with the legendary @cobaltperun: I binged Lost, for 2 days straight. I was HOOKED. so hooked this story got in the way of my personal life because I couldn't stay away from my phone. I love the way you write Tara and gosh did the series kill and heal me. Aside from Lost, Woe out the storm is also such a sweet story. The whole concept Raiju is so interesting to me now and damn do I love a good slow burn. Im just so deeply impressed too by their rapid request process, and how much they get done, its moving.
Another legend @letorip: First I've just got to mention, his headcannons for characters are amazing and I'm CONSTANTLY having to restrain myself from asking for more because I would only continue. I highly recommend them, they're like stories in themselves. But aside from Headcannons, my personal favorite fic of his would have to be somethin' stupid, especially part 3. The whole series is a must read and gosh do I love the writing, its so beautifully described, every inch of it.
@ajortga: every fic of hers is a fucking BANGER. there's never a fic in which I'm left dissatisfied. I love it all, eat it all. When I find her on my feed, you know I'm immediately digging in. Everything is always so fluffy and nice and just makes a girl feel better yk? I completely recommend reading Cute and Absolute, My Girl, and Bear hugs. All super fluffy and heart warming fics, its crazy <333
@persevereforahappyending: This author stabs me, kills me, brings me back to life, and then stabs me again with angst but I go back every time. Specifically to their newest series A Legacies Secret which is. So. Fucking. Good. They really cooked with that one. Every Friday like clockwork I'm checking for notifications and I'm never disappointed. Their writing style just leaves a grip on you and the plots are so clever too, they're very unique and I love them. Luck Runs Out is another great series and damn I revisit that thing once every two weeks for a reminder on what true love really is.
And lastly but not least one of my newest favorite authors of all time is @honorarysimp: Uncanny Distortion was one of the best things I ever read, the plot, whilst held similarities to scream, had such a creative own twist to the authors imagination. I absolutely loved it, Tara and Detective made my day for weeks, and then came Rumor has it and now two others hold my heart, and break it, a lot. this series feels like its gonna hurt me. But overall Honorary simp is such an underrated writer and I really hope that more people will notice you out there and give you some more well deserved attention because God damn your fics are masterfully crafted and I don't even have the words to describe how much I adore them, all I can say is that I carved a space in my heart for Detective and Lucky.
that was longer than I intended but all of these authors came from the top of my head so they mean a lot to me. Tumblr is a way better place with all of these creative souls in it and honestly I wouldn't have gotten far without all this inspiration surrounding me ❤️
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thosebrothers · 3 months ago
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These old men just sit in my brain and fester. I have a lot of different ways I feel about Stan and Ford and their sexualities and how they explore it and what they think about it.
First thing is the times. I really don’t think that it’s the most welcoming. I also definitely think Stanley said homophobic shit. Honestly even as an older dude he might but he really doesn’t mean it maliciously. I have a very specific characterisation of this..
Bear with me here. I’m trying to get all my thoughts in order. When they are younger I definitely think that they’re both very weird about each other. They both recognise the way they feel is definitely more than brothers, I don’t know if this is a verbalised or not. It really really depends. I can see them messing around in their teenagers. It’s fun to think about but I also really enjoy that slow burn. Got to say, they got separated. It’s fucked up. I just know during pride month that Mabel mixed pronoun pins and pride flags for everybody she knows.(also does Ford even know that gay marriage is legal? LOL) Mabel would ask Ford if he was gay or bisexual or anything. He’d be so scared like “HOW DO THEY KNOW??” (It’s obvious dude look how you are with your brother) He would see pride decorations in the mystery shack and genuinely think Bill was fucking with him😭
With this being said I definitely know Mabel has asked Stan the same thing. He would basically explain that he is bicurious without admitting it. Like “yeah some dudes are pretty. What’s the problem? Doesn’t mean I’m sucking dick or anything” and then he sits in silence for thirty seconds about this LMAO..
Mabel would freak out and Stan would write it off. She’d be like “oh my God you’re literally describing bisexuality grunkle stan omgomgomgomgomg” Wendy is bisexual and the relationship I characterize between her and Stan I love it so much. He would straight up say dyke and Wendy would be like “fuck yeah Mr. Pines.” I know she is chronically bisexual, but I also think that she identifies as a dyke totally. Stan would be like “can you believe Mabel thinks I’m bisexual? Not everything’s gotta have a label. Whatever.” And Wendy is like “dude. It’s okay.“ and without directly saying we know you have the hugest crush on your brother, Stan knows. Stan knows that she knows. I think it’s sweet. Stan crushing hard on his nerdy brother.
But also genuinely does Ford know it’s OK to be gay?? he would see two men holding hands and just be like “in PUBLIC???” He is so repressed and has been gone for so long and in a. Horrific abusive relationship with a triangle. I just know his ass is like pulling Stanley aside whispering asking if Dippers a fag or not and Stan’s just like “idk idc probably”
Also I think they are all autistic. This doesn’t really have anything to do with anything… Well it kind of does. I feel like nurodivergent experiences of love can be very different than neurotypical ones. I love Stanford so much I need him to talk with his brother about the way they FEEL. UGH.
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fandomfluffandfuck · 5 months ago
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(Ignore the fact that this is a screenshot of this ask, lmao, I posted this before I was ready on accident (my app updated and I pressed post rather than safe as a draft because the buttons moved and I'm dumb like that, lol) and didn't have time right then to write what I wanted to for this so I just screen-shotted, then deleted the original post. It's fine, haha. It's here now.)
This reminded me of a fic I wrote a while ago! It's not big dick Steve and it's not mocking in a fun way (in the past, instead, people have been cruel about such a big dick), but... it's big dick Bucky who gets lightheaded when he gets a hard one with size queen Steve praising him and making him feel like no one else, so I just think it's something you might enjoy as well:
"Strangers Who Fit Together More Like Soulmates"
Now, though, YES, we can talk about big dick Steve who gets light-headed and thoughtless whenever he's hard:
If Bucky were feeling confessional, he would describe the way he feels like this--luxuriously pressing his chest up against Steve's broad back and gluing his hips to bubble butt--and, oh, boy, is it a lot of feeling. He can feel the slow, thick rush of his blood through his body, turning the heat up to a feverish, summer level--the kind of summer night that you spend sweating, lying back on your bed over top of your sheets. After all, it's that humid and sticky. So hot that you're thinking about how bad it would really be if some monster came up and snagged your uncovered ankle because... it can't fucking be as bad as this heat. He's fucking hot.
Sweating.
Bucky can feel that, too, his sweat pooling on his skin underneath his clothes. Steve has to be sweating, too. They're going to have to peel apart...eventually. But more pressingly than the heat and sweat and flush afflicting him, he can feel the strain and twinge in his wrist. His muscles ache as he grips and strokes, jacking Steve off while he pretends to be able to wash the dishes. And Bucky hasn't even been at this teasing torture for long!
You'd think after so many months of getting so, so intimately aquatinted with Steve's monster cock, that his body would be used to it. But his body isn't--it still doesn't know what's hit it because he's colliding, regularly, with a fucking semi-truck. Bucky doesn't stand a chance.
With another handful of fast, sloppy strokes that tease more than feel satisfying, Steve sways forward into the counter with a low, aching noise. It's like a tree threatening to fall, Bucky swears it. His big, big body and matching cock. Bucky could climb him like a tree if not for how unsteady Steve gets whenever he's turned on.
The way he twitches and weakens leaves Bucky's arm pinned between Steve's body and the counter, one of the sharp points of Steve's hips and the equally sharp edge of the countertop dig into Bucky. He doesn't care. He's ignoring that ache alongside the lactic acid building up in his muscles--that acid, too, stokes the flames inside him, he burns hot--Bucky murmurs, husky into Steve's ear, "biiiiig boy, yeah, that's it." He won't stop teasing him, no matter how much his arm complains or how stuck it gets.
Instead, Bucky switches tactics, he didn't start this ambush for nothing. So, he squeezes him with his whole hand. He can't touch all of him like this, but it doesn't matter. More than a handful. Regardless, it's more than enough for Steve to be gripped and grabbed based on how he jerks forward quickly, gasping low, under his breath with a barely there huff of, "Buck-!"
Bucky pays his breathy sound no mind, replacing it in the tension-thick air between them with his own words, "I fucking love feeling you swell up in my hand," Steve moans, dropping a thankfully plastic container with a clatter, "gimme it, baby," Bucky goads him, hyping him up, giving up the pretense of just an innocent reach-around-and-cop-a-feel to an all-out fuck-session. "Gimme it. I wanna feel it." Bucky squeezes his hand around his shaft under his sweatpants. Steve's gone from soft and sweet to solid and thick so fast that Bucky's fingers no longer meet around his dick. "One day," Bucky muses, stretching onto his tip-toes to whisper right in Steve's ear, letting his lips brush his skin just a little, just enough to make him shudder, "I'm gonna shove you in me when you're half hard and I'm just gonna sit on this fat cock," Bucky squeezes unforgivingly until Steve makes a stupid guh sound, punched-out, "feeling it get bigger in me."
Steve shivers again, this time more intense. Oh, yeah, he's getting weaker.
Bucky nips at the hot shell of his ear, already turning red. How he still has enough blood in his body to blush while his cock fills up so heavy and thick will remain a mystery to Bucky.
"How's that sound, huh?" He teases.
Steve just whimpers.
Bucky had to get on his tip-toes before, but he relaxes now because Steve is falling, slowly, uncontrollably slouching down the counter. He'll end up on the floor if Bucky keeps going, getting dizzy as his blood finally decides it all has to go where Bucky wants it... in this nice, fat dick.
There's no harm in speeding the process up, making him dizzy, "you're such a slut with this huge thing, getting it up so fast, so often."
"Buck!" Steve gasps again, his muscle-bound body pressed so harshly against the restricted pressure and friction of Bucky's hand in his pants that Bucky starts to feel sharp tingles in his fingers, pins and needles that somehow make the silky hard sensation of Steve's dick in his hand sweeter.
"I can't believe you. I can't believe how slutty you are," Bucky kisses the nape of his neck lushly, then he scrapes his teeth against the top bump of his spine when Steve lets his head hang, the rest of him wilting as his dick swells. "Do you know how eager you are? You'll fucking crumble to your knees for me any time, any day, all I gotta do is get that blood flowing south and you're a goner, babyy--"
Steve inhales so shakily it sounds like he's at the end of a really good cry.
Perfect.
Bucky uses his weakness, his going limp, to his advantage, curling his other hand around his cinched waist to pull him back--giving himself more room to work. That way his hand doesn't tingle so much as he works hard to stroke all the way up and all the way down that big fucking gun he's packing in his sweats. Armed and dangerous.
Steve, with this little (not so little) head talking louder than his big head, lets him move him. Mold him. Stroke him. Jerk him off. Faster. harder.
He slouches another inch. his hands have long since stopped trying to clean their dishes, instead, wet and sudsy, he's gripping the edges of the sink for dear life.
"Should I get you a fainting couch, big guy?" The more he talks, the wider Bucky's Cheshire smile stretches. He's sure he looks feral, how could he not? The weight of his dick in his hand, more and more of Steve's whole body weight pressing back against Bucky, leaning into his chest, letting him have it all. "'Cause we sure as shit need something to catch you when you fall every time I bend over and you see my ass? You fuckin' horndog."
Steve scrambles, suddenly, to touch him. His dish-water-soaked, red-hot hands the size of dinner plates wrap themselves around both of Bucky's forearms. Bucky feels the squeeze as he jerks him slower but harder, much less teasing and more pleasuring. Steve is unsteady. Bucky is all that's holding him up and he won't be able to for long, he's fucking heavy. When his cock twitches in his grip once, twice, leaving Bucky with a mouth full of drool, he starts taking his big guy toward the living room. Walking slow and carefully--pushing really. Pushing this fucking tank toward the nearest soft place for him to crash.
"I can't fucking believe you, big boy," Bucky's mouth runs as he goes, "where do you keep this thing?" As he says it, he goes alllll the way from the base to the tip. Bucky still can't believe how long and how thick he is. He feels like it's a fucking joke. When he first saw Steve naked, he couldn't pick his jaw up off the floor. He thought, o-fucking-kay, you're a show-er then? But as he got to touch and taste and explore, running wild. And it turns out Steve's actually a grower, and then Bucky couldn't only not close his mouth but he couldn't speak. He couldn't fit the whole thing in his mouth and stuffed down his throat either.
"How do you fit it in your pants?" The questions pour out as they get into the living room, Steve stumbling worse now, dizzier. He wouldn't be able to differentiate up from down if he tried, Bucky's pretty sure. The only up and down he knows is Bucky's fist fighting to stretch around his cock, Bucky's mouth gaping to suck him down, Bucky's asshole struggling to swallow him whole. Up and down, up and down, up and down--bouncing on that unreal cock. "How do you fit it in me? I can't believe you do, every time I look at it. Jesus Christ."
For such a big guy, his voice is so cute and small, mewling, whining, and pawing at him with clumsy hands, trying to get him to do more than talk and jerk him off. He wants faster. He wants more. Slut.
"It's good you go so dumb, baby," Bucky murmurs, taking his hands off him and throwing him onto their couch instead. Tiiiimber, Bucky snickers to himself, watching him bounce on the couch. The springs squeak and Steve whimpers, writhing with the unfair treatment. Why'd you stop?, those huge puppy dog eyes, rimmed red, threatening to spill tears, ask. "'Cause if you didn't get so dumb, you'd get some big ideas of doing the work, wouldn't you?"
Steve's too out of it to nod, but it doesn't matter. Bucky doesn't need his silly little input, all he needs is that cock, that gorgeous body, and the stupid expression on his face--eyelids heavy, mouth slack, cheeks hot.
Out. of. it.
"And we can't have that!" He bites, teasing as he climbs onto Steve's prone, sprawled form, straddling his tree-trunk thighs and unceremoniously shoving his sweats down just to watch that horse cock bounce up and slap his clenching tummy. Steve's chest heaves, a wail ripped out of him and causing him to almost double over. Bucky shoves him back, "if you're thinking, you're trying to finger me open and you're just too impatient with a dick like that."
Steve makes some garbled noise, it sounds like he's drowning.
Bucky chuckles, half-amusement, half-breath, throwing his head back with it. He's enjoying himself so fucking much, his hands working that cock and his hips grinding against Steve's solid thigh. "I gotta stretch myself open for you with a dick like what you got. I, I gotta drag it out," he pauses to moan, still grinding, "'cause I'd split at the seams with dick if I didn't get nice and loose for you."
Steve bucks underneath him, nearly throwing him off. It just makes Bucky chuckle more--more moan and breath in the sound. He's so sweet and dumb. Nothing matters to him like this, blissed out, and it's so easy to get him here that it's a wonder Bucky doesn't keep him like this all the time. Yeah, that sounds good, a living, breathing, fuck-machine.
There's no lube over here, though, so unfortunately, Bucky can't start getting sloppy and loose for his human dildo. He'll just have to do the next best thing and jack him off until he cums, then, once he's pumping buckets all over himself, Bucky can scoop it up and use it, along with all his eager, slippery pre-cum to slick himself up so Steve can fill him fuller. More dick. More cum.
It won't be hard to get Steve there--
"If only that brain was as big as that big dick, hm, sweetie? Then maybe you could actually get something done rather than just letting me lead you around by the cock."
Steve whines roughly.
--yeah. No sweat. Give Bucky a challenge, c'mon.
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willalove75 · 1 year ago
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The Estate | Lady Dimitrescu x Fem!oc
WHAT DAY IS IT?! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY?! WOOHOO!!! I hope you all join me as I enter the final year of my 20s! And since one of my love languages is gift-giving, I am giving you all a present today! I debated on releasing this earlier this summer but I wanted to get a few chapters done before I did - and get a little further into Alcina's New Maid before I started putting out chapters. But ANM will still be updated weekly! Fear not! (And I know chapter 16 is late, I didn't get to finish it yesterday so I will finish it either today or tomorrow I promise!) Ideally, I would love to update this fic weekly as well but I just don't know if that is realistic so I am aiming for a bi-weekly or monthly update for this. Might be a little more frequently, might not. So I apologize in advance for irregular updates for this until I can get myself on a reasonable writing schedule! I do have a couple of chapters done already but I want to try and have a few chapters lined up as they're released. Unlike ANM where I literally brain-dump each chapter each week (usually done in a single day) and post it after I read it over a couple of times. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this fic since it's been rotting my brain for MONTHS and I literally have not been able to stop thinking about it and coming up with ideas/expanding on my ideas literally every fucking day for the last like, 4 months? LOL
Summary: It's been a tough few years for you. After a tragedy that left you to raise your three year old, Emma, as a single parent, you're finally starting to get back on your feet. Recently hired as a marketing & social media strategist for Dimitrescu Estate, a new chapter of your life is just beginning.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI
Tags: Slow burn, fluff, angst, smut, flirty
I'll add more tags as needed!
Notes: I know I have so many other requests I should be doing but once again my mind has been plagued by this story I came up with and I need to get it out of my headddd.
Also, this is a blended oc/reader fic. Using "you" has become so engrained into my writing it's almost impossible to not add it (as opposed to writing she/her), but I will be giving the oc a name and describing her! Ik that's not everyone's cup of tea so I apologize in advance but I hope you enjoy it regardless! It'll be written in a similar fashion as Safety and Dimitrescu Books for those of you who are wondering what that will be like and/or read those (fucking amazing and wonderful) fics!
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You take in the beautiful field around you, the crystal blue sky, the tall grass blowing in the breeze. Even though you have no idea where you are, it's warm and you have a fullness in your heart you haven't felt in a long time. In the distance you spot a familiar figure.
"It can't be-" you begin to say.
The figure continues to walk in your direction, but doesn't seem to get any closer. You begin to take a few steps forward, your legs feel like lead, slowing your movements. You try to run but you can't - desperate to get closer to the figure. You try and cry out to them but there's no sound when you scream. Using all of your power to move forward, each step becomes more difficult than the last. The figure walking towards you stops and stands still. With tears in your eyes you try and cry out again, and just like last time, there's no sound. The figure begins to move forward again. This time it finally seems like it's coming closer. Their face covered by shadow. You take step after step, using all of your strength to make your way to the figure. You're almost close enough to make out their face as tears stain your cheeks.
You're jolted awake by your alarm clock. Groaning, you reach over to the nightstand to shut it off. Looking down at your pillow you see teardrops scattered across it. Wiping your eyes you realize you were crying in your sleep again. You look up at the clock. 6am. You put your head back down and turn to the other side, reaching your arm across the empty side of the bed. Gently grabbing the pillow next to you, you take a deep, grounding breath and finally get up.
You exit your room and quietly open the other bedroom door. Inside is your three year old daughter, Emma, fast asleep in her toddler bed. Closing the door you make your way into the bathroom and turn the shower on. Pulling your hair out of it's messy ponytail you begin to undresses. Catching a glance of yourself in the mirror, the darkness hides most of what you see. Unless Emma is with you, every shower you've taken for the last two years has been in the dark. You had grown tired of looking into the mirror and seeing the dark circles under your eyes, noticing that you had lost weight - just looking at yourself in the mirror and seeing a shell of your former self. Even though you feel like you've been able to reclaim a lot of yourself in the last year, you always have a feeling of emptiness looming in your chest.
After showering you check the baby monitor, noticing Emma is beginning to stir, you quickly get dressed and walk into the bedroom. You make you way over to the toddler bed and sit on the edge, running your fingers through the little girls wild curls.
"Good morning my love." You quietly say.
The little girl turns her head and looks up at you, a sleepy smile crosses her face.
"Good morning mommy." She says with a yawn.
"Come on baby, lets get you up." You say, reaching down to pick up the girl, who sits up and reaches for you.
Lifting Emma out of the bed, she cuddles into your neck. You hold the back of her head and take a deep breath in, the empty ache in your chest eases some. After entering the kitchen you put the girl in her booster seat at the table and begin making breakfast for the both of you.
After breakfast you clean up the kitchen and get Emma dressed and put her in the playpen in the living room with her toys while you finish getting yourself ready.
You finish packing up the diaper bag and throwing a few of Emma's toys into another bag. After grabbing the rest of your own things you take Emma out of the playpen and head downstairs.
"Good morning Margie." You say.
"Oh Katie! Good morning!"
A small, elderly woman gets up from the kitchen table and walks up to the two of you.
"Good morning Margie!" Emma says.
"And good morning to you too princess." She says, squeezing the baby's chubby cheeks. "You want coffee hon?"
"No thanks, I'll grab something on my way, I don't want to be late."
"Oh right! Today's the first day of that new job, how are you feeling?"
"I'm excited, I'm looking forward to working in my field again."
"That's great but you know that's not what I meant." She says flatly. "How are you feeling?"
Knowing what she means you look down for a moment and then back up at Margie.
"I'm okay, I'm hanging in there." Margie gives you a look. "I mean, barely, but I'm hanging in there. I'm terrified to leave her." You say looking at Emma as your eyes begin to gloss over. "But I know it's what I have to do, and I really do miss working, I need some sort of normalcy back in my life."
Margie brings her hand to your face and wipes away the stray tear that fell.
"You're gonna do great kid. Knock 'em dead." She says with a smile and pats Katie's cheek.
"Thanks Marge."
With Emma and your things in tow you head to the car, putting Emma in her car seat and dropping your bags in the front passenger seat. When you pull out of the driveway you beep and wave at Marge who's waving from the front door and head off.
"Mommy! Mommy!" Emma says.
"Yes baby, what is it?"
"I want Baby Shark!"
You groan a little, it's just barely 8am and you haven't had coffee, Baby Shark may actually make you snap right now.
"Mommy pleaseeeee!" Emma whines.
"Okay fine."
Her whining is so much worse than Baby Shark, so you oblige. The music starts and Emma starts laughing and clapping her hands and sings along. You do your best to drown it out with your thoughts.
"Mommy! Sing Mommy shark!"
Looking at the girl through the rearview mirror you smile.
"Okay, okay." You say. "Mommy shark do do do do do do, Mommy shark do do do do do do Mommy shark!"
Emma squeals with happiness, you can listen to her laugh all day. It's one of the few things that's been able to get you through the last couple of years.
Pulling up to your in-laws house, you grab the diaper bag, Emma's toys and Emma and head to the front door.
"Nana!!!" Emma squeals when your mother-in-law opens the door.
"Good morning my baby!" She says as she picks Emma up and squeezes her. "Good morning Katie." She hugs you and kisses you on the cheek.
"Morning mom." You say and hug her back. "Thank you so much for watching her, really."
"Of course, I'd do anything for my grandbaby!" She says putting Emma down so she can go play. "Come in, sit."
"I can only stay for a minute, I gotta grab coffee on my way."
"Oh nonsense, I'll make you some and send you with one of our travel mugs, don't waste your money."
Her kindness makes you smile. Not only does your mother-in-law make the best coffee you've ever had, her warmth is always something that's comforted you. After you take a seat at the kitchen table you hear footsteps coming down the stairs.
"Who's in my house?!" You hear a voice playfully yell.
Emma's squealing laugh rings through the house as you hear footsteps walk towards the direction she ran off in. Your mother-in-law puts a cup of coffee down in front of you and the smell is to die for.
"Thanks mom." You say with a smile.
"Good morning sunshine!" Looking over you see your father-in-law with Emma in his arms.
"Morning dad." You say as he kisses you on the cheek.
"Oh coffee? Michelle can you make me a cup?" He asks, looking over at his wife.
"Of course."
"So Katie, you excited for your first day at the new job?" He asks.
"I am, a little nervous, but I'm excited to start working again."
"Yeah it's about time." He says playfully.
"Richard." Michelle hisses as she puts his coffee down in front of him.
"I'm only joking!"
Michelle rolls her eyes at him and sits down at the table. "So which vineyard are you working at again?"
"Dimitrescu Estate."
"Oh right, I've been there a few times, it's a nice place. Very pretty, and they have great wine." She says.
"What are you doing there?" Richard asks.
"Marketing and social media, pretty much the same thing I did at the last place."
"That's right."
Looking down at your watch you realize the time.
"Crap I have to go or I'm gonna be late." You say, getting up.
Michelle gets up, grabs your coffee cup and pours it into a travel mug, pops the top onto it and hands it to you.
"There you go sweetheart."
"Thanks mom." You say, hugging her.
"Okay love, mommy has to go, have fun with Nana and Pop!" You place a kiss on Emma's head and the baby's face scrunches, signaling she's about to wail.
"Hey Emma? Wanna go to the park with me?" Richard asks.
Her face lights up at the word "park", meltdown averted.
"YES!" She screams.
"Thank you." You whisper to Richard and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you so much for looking after her." You say as you head towards the door.
"We'll take her any day of the week!" Richard says.
"Love you honey." Michelle says.
"Love you guys too!"
"Good luck!" Richard calls out after her.
Once you're out the door Michelle swats Richard with a dishtowel.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"'About time?' Really Richard?" She scolds him.
"What? I was kidding, she knows I was!"
Michelle rolls her eyes at him and leaves the kitchen.
You jump into your car and plug in the address of the vineyard. You had been there a few years ago when you went to the wineries with your friends; hopping to and from the various establishments in the area, but that was it. Your first interview was over the phone, the second one, a Zoom interview, you couldn't even see your new boss' face because her webcam was broken. All you were able to hear was the woman's voice. It had a silky tone - sultry, even - if you were being honest. Aside from that, you knew nothing about her, you really weren't even sure if the woman you spoke with was the owner or just an employee.
Pulling up to the vineyard you put your car in park. You pull your necklace out of your shirt and hold onto it, your fingers tracing the outline of the heart shape. After taking a deep breath and exhaling, you drop the necklace back down under your shirt. You grab your bags and head inside.
The memories of the time you and your friends were here come flooding back as you walk in. You admire the ornate style of the room - it's just as pretty as it was when you were here last. As you look around you spot a beautiful grand piano tucked away in the corner and you take note of the jazz music softly playing over the speakers.
"Sorry, we don't open until 11." A slightly aggravated voice says.
You look over and see a young girl cleaning the bar, looking at you, visibly annoyed. She can't be older than 20, dark brown, almost black hair. She's wearing a tight black t-shirt with various silver necklaces dangling from her neck.
"Oh, I'm Katie, the new marketing and social media strategist."
The girls demeanor softens, but not much.
"MOM!!" She yells towards the back. "MOM!!!"
A blond girl runs out from the kitchen area.
"Cassandra shut it, mom's on the phone!"
The dark haired girl, Cassandra, rolls her eyes.
"Can you take her to go see mom?" She asks the blond, nodding towards you.
"Nope, sorry, I have to go, I have class in a little bit."
"Bela pleaseeeee." Cassandra whines.
"No Cass, I'm leaving, bye!" The blond disappears into the kitchen again and Cassandra rolls her eyes.
"Follow me."
She leads you to the back of the winery where the offices are. There aren't many offices, but in each one there's someone diligently working.
Cassandra stops at the door furthest away and throws it open.
"Mom!"
The woman behind the desk snaps her attention up to her daughter with intensity in her eyes. Her phone pressed against her ear. She holds a finger up to Cassandra signaling for her to wait, but never breaks eye contact with her.
The woman is beautiful. Jet black hair with near perfect curls that fall just under her jawline. Gorgeous grey-blue eyes, full lips painted with the perfect shade of crimson red. She's wearing a white button down, the first few buttons undone - just enough to show off her large chest but covered up enough to still be professional. The sleeves are neatly rolled to her elbows, you also take note of her perfectly manicured nails, painted black. She's wearing layered, elegant gold necklaces that accentuate her neckline. She has a few rings and a matching bracelet on to pull the look together.
"Am nevoie de transport până săptămâna viitoare. . . Nu, abia așteaptă. . . Trebuie să plec. . . La revedere."
(I need the shipment by next week. . . No, it can't wait. . . I have to go. . . Goodbye.)
She places the phone into its cradle and her eyes snap back to Cassandra.
"What have I told you about yelling across the building?" Her voice is stern, matching the intensity in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, but I-"
"Were you dying?"
"What?"
Her question surprised and confused you too.
"Were you dying?"
"No?"
"Was one of your sisters dying or gravely injured?"
"No."
"Was there any emergency whatsoever?"
Cassandra sighs. "No."
"Then there is no reason for you to be screaming across my tasting room. Understood?"
"Yes mom." She says, hanging her head.
"Now what is it that you needed?" The woman's tone softens.
"The new girl is here. The social media whatever?"
The woman groans, putting her fingers to the bridge of her nose.
"Cassandra. You act like that in front of our new employee?" She grumbles. "Go, finish your morning tasks." She says, waving the girl off.
Cassandra lets out an exaggerated "UGH" accompanied by a dramatic eye roll and begins to walk away.
"Și dacă nu remediați această atitudine, vă voi trimite înapoi în România." She calls after her.
(And if you don't fix that attitude I will ship you back to Romania.)
"Sorry mom." Cassandra looks at her mom who raised eyebrow at her.
The woman nods her away.
"I apologize for that, she can be quite difficult sometimes." She says as her eyes follow her daughter while she walks away. When Cassandra is out of view her eyes snap to you.
"Oh, it's no worry at all." You say with a soft smile.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Please, take a seat." She gestures to the chair in front of her desk.
The woman reaches her hand out across her desk as you sit.
"Alcina Dimitrescu, owner and operator of Dimitrescu Estate."
Your hand meets hers for a firm handshake. "Katie Moore, it's great to finally meet you as well."
"Is Katie short for anything?" She asks.
"Uh, yeah, Kathleen." You say.
"Kathleen, what a beautiful name. Do you prefer Katie over Kathleen?"
"Oh it doesn't really matter to me. I'll respond to both."
"Wonderful. Well then Kathleen, welcome. We'll go over the job responsibilities. I'll have you fill out some paperwork and then I'll show you around the facility."
"Sounds good."
Alcina goes over what the job requirements are, what she expects of you, where the person who was in your position had left off, the usual.
"And you will get a company laptop, you can leave it here, take it home, doesn't matter much to me. As long as it's well taken care of." She picks up the phone and presses a few numbers on t he keypad and you hear the intercom go off.
"Cassandra, my office please." She hangs the phone up and looks back at you. "Cassandra has set up your laptop, if there's anything else you need, any programs you use that aren't installed, she can take care of that for you."
Cassandra walks into the office, seemingly in a better mood than earlier.
"What's up mom?"
"Can you please bring me Kathleen's laptop."
"On it." She says and walks away.
"Now for the paperwork. I'll have you fill out these and then I'll take down some of your information." She says as she hands you a W2 and some other new employee paperwork.
She hands you a pen and you begin to fill out the paperwork on her desk as she turns her attention back to her computer.
"Here you go mom." Cassandra says, handing her mom a laptop box.
"Thank you draga. Almost done with your morning tasks?"
"Yup, just gotta put out the spill trays and then I'm done."
"Excellent, thank you draga mea."
Cassandra leaves as you finish filling out the paperwork. You trade her the paperwork for the laptop box and place it on the chair next to you.
"Okay, now I just need some of your information."
She takes down your address, phone number, birthdate, etc.
"And who is your emergency contact? God forbid something were to happen."
"Uh, Jake-" You stop yourself, shaking your head as you feel your heart sink. "Sorry, uh," Alcina looks at you over her reading glasses. "It'll be my mom, I guess, Deborah Wilson."
Alcina takes down your moms information and places her glasses on her desk.
"Excellent, now that that's out of the way, I will show you the facility. You can leave your things here."
Alcina pushes her chair away from her desk and stands up, you're taken back at how tall she is. She's damn near 7 feet tall. Alcina is easily a foot taller than you. With your work heels you're 5'4" on a good day. In her heels, Alcina is easily 6'5"-6'6".
You take notice of Alcina's full outfit - and her body. Her black stilettos, high waisted, wide legged dress pants accentuate her long legs. A thick belt with a black belt buckle that frames her waist, showing off her round hips. Her ensemble is reminiscent of the 1940s-1950s, but with a modern twist. It's obvious she has a great sense of style.
Alcina walks effortlessly through the halls in her stilettos as she shows you around the facility. She tells you what each room is, what its purpose is for and tells you a little bit of history of the place. She explains that there are a few other buildings on the property where the grapes are sent to and where the wine is made and bottled, but that this is the main building. Alcina takes you through the kitchen and into the vineyard a bit to show the different grapes that are put into making the wine.
Next on the tour, she brings you down into the wine cellar. You were expecting a dreary basement, but you're surprised when you see a beautiful wine cellar. It looks like something out of a movie.
Wine racks line the walls from floor to ceiling, housing hundreds - maybe even a thousand - bottles of wine. The stone archway along with the wooden accents and shelves give the room a rustic yet elegant feel. There's a gorgeous wooden table in the center with four chairs. The set looks like it's custom made.
As you look around the room you see Alcina walk over to one of the racks. She moves a wine barrel to the side like it weighed nothing.
"Even if that thing is empty, it still has to weigh a ton." You think to yourself.
Alcina examines the rack and carefully pulls a bottle off of it.
"And this, this is what started it all." She says, handing you the bottle.
As you examine the bottle you note the beautiful gold and red details around it. It looks expensive. The label on the front reads:
"Sanguis Virginis."
"Precisely, Romanian for Maiden's Blood." Alcina says with a smile as she takes the bottle and returns it to its place.
You don't even realize the confused expression on your face until you hear Alcina chuckle at it.
"Obviously, not made with real blood. My ancestors originate from Romania, my great-grandfather it was I believe who first began making Sanguis Virginis, well over a hundred years ago at his vineyard in Romania. Eventually the business was passed down to me, however I decided to take it in a bit of a different direction. Since I was already established here in the US when I acquired the business, I purchased this property and turned it into what it is today. We've expanded our collection and now we make over 25 different wine. And I import other things such as ciders and beers from both Romania and local breweries for our customers to enjoy. No longer do we just make and sell the wine to distributers."
Alcina looks around the wine cellar with pride, you can see the passion for her family's business in her eyes.
"Any questions?"
"No, I think you covered everything. It's beautiful down here."
"Why thank you. The cellar is my personal favorite room on the entire property."
"I can see why, it's stunning."
You take in the rest of your surroundings. The warm wood absorbs the lighting, giving the room a soft yet bright glow. It's a large cellar but somehow it still feels cozy.
"Alright, lets head back upstairs, shall we? We should be opening in a few minutes and I like to do a once-over to make sure everything is in place." Alcina says.
"Sounds good."
Alcina leads you out of the wine cellar and back up to the tasting room. Cassandra and another bartender are behind the bar, drying glasses and putting them away. Alcina swipes her finger across the piano, inspects it, and nods in approval. You notice her glace at the piano again, looking at it with adoration.
"Do you play?" You ask.
"Lifetimes ago." She says with a smile. "But I wasn't very good."
"Mom what are you talking about?" Cassandra says from the bar. "You're one of the best piano players I've ever heard."
"Thank you draga." She says, smiling at her daughter.
After her inspection is complete she walks to the front doors and opens them, pulling the doorstop down with the bottom of her heel. She flips the "closed" sign over to "open" and makes her way to the massive floor to ceiling windows that line the wall across from the bar. She unlocks each window and pushes on the side of the frame to open them, making sure each window is open at the same angle.
"She's so anal retentive when she opens." Cassandra says, half complaining and half just saying it out loud.
"I can hear you." Alcina says from across the room.
Cassandra rolls her eyes and continues to put the glasses away.
Making her way over the the double glass doors leading to the outside patio, Alcina props them open allowing a cool summer breeze through the tasting room.
She gives the room another once-over. When she's satisfied she nods to herself again and looks at Cassandra.
"Everything looks wonderful. If you need me, you know where to find me. Kathleen," She says, turning to you. "lets finish getting you set up."
Alcina leads you back to her office. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and a sudden chill runs up your spine. Quickly taking it out, you see a text from Michelle. Your heart begins to race as you open the message. A sigh of relief is released when you realize it's just some photos of Emma, covered in flour, helping Michelle make cookies.
"Everything alright?" Alcina says.
Focused on opening the text message, you didn't even realize that you stopped following Alcina.
"Oh, yes, sorry." You say as you catch up with her. "Just my mother-in-law, she's watching my daughter today and was giving me an update."
"You have a daughter?" Alcina asks, a little surprised as they walk into her office.
"Yeah, Emma, she's about 3 and a half." You say, sitting back down.
Alcina glances down at your hands, taking notice of an absent wedding ring on your left ring finger. She also notices a ring that looks like it could be a wedding band on your right ring finger.
"How sweet. It's a fun age. Although from my experience with the girls, it's the terrible three's that are the hardest. Two was an easy age."
"I wholeheartedly agree with that. She's wonderful but likes to get herself into all kinds of things. Luckily, besides her insatiable curiosity for things that can hurt her, she's a really good kid."
Alcina laughs, pulling a smile across your face.
"Children are wonderful, until they become teenagers that is. That's when the real fun begins." She says sarcastically.
"Oh, I could only imagine. It makes me cringe as a parent now when I think of all of the things I said and did when I was a teenager."
"Oh, so you were a bad kid?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.
A light blush creeps across your cheeks. "I wouldn't say I was a bad kid. At least I wasn't worse than your average teenager."
Alcina gives you a smirk, the corner of her lip curled into a half smile.
"Is she flirting with me?" The thought flashes across your mind but you quickly dismiss it. This is your new boss, Alcina's just being nice, it's your first day here. There's no way she's flirting with you right now.
"So, I will show you to your office and let you get yourself settled." Alcina says.
Grabbing your bag and the laptop box, Alcina leads you to the room closest to her office and flicks the lights on.
It's a modest little office, on the left you see an L shaped desk in the corner against the glass window facing the hallway. On top sits two monitors, a desk chair and a small desk lamp. To the right is a small empty bookshelf. The office isn't anything fancy, but it's yours, and you're surprisingly excited about it.
"Please feel free to decorate it how you see fit." Alcina says, checking her watch. "I have a meeting in a few minutes, but I'll stop by again this afternoon to check and see how things are going. Cassandra should have left you a list of our social media logins." She says, walking over to the desk and picking up a sheet of paper. "Here it is. Take a look at them and when I get back I'd love to hear your thoughts on how you think they're doing and of course, what could be improved." She says, handing you the paper. "You did mention on your resume photography skills, yes?"
"Yes, and some videography and video editing skills as well."
"Excellent. The channels were being run by my eldest, Bela. But since she's has an internship beginning soon she no longer has the time. And since our last marketing director left, things have been in a bit of a disarray. Hopefully it won't be too overwhelming." She says, trying to gauge your reaction.
"I'm always up for a good challenge." You say with a smile.
Alcina gives a nod of approval and spins around on her heel to leave.
"I must be off. I'll be back in a little while to check in, if there's anything you need please seek out Cassandra. If she's doing what she's supposed to, you'll find her behind the bar in the tasting room."
"Sounds good, thank you."
"And Kathleen," Alcina says, turning back towards you. "Welcome to Dimitrescu Estate."
208 notes · View notes
swaps55 · 3 months ago
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Hi! I previously asked about Sam’s reasons for initiating with Kaidan in your multiverse fics, thank you for your answer, it was great to read and you’ve really switched back on the side of my brain that likes to analyse literature after uni killed it off lol. I was thinking more about the part where you said
‘I really wanted to push the queerplatonic nature of their relationship - have them be a lot more physically affectionate with each other, but Sam is really keen on physical touch once you give it to him, and the slow burn would have gotten a lot faster, lol’
And my brain is now filled with this AU where they’re exactly how you described them, v touchy feely with each other for a while before a sort of ‘relationship’ or kiss happens. Would you ever consider writing a multiverse fic exploring this concept? I totally get why you wouldn’t as it contradicts Sam’s nature as you said, but man, my mind is reeling with the ‘what-if’s’!!
Love your writing as always and the Cantata re-read count is now aaaatttt maybe 5/6 in the space of 6 months lol. Sending love! 🩷
That anyone cares enough to daydream about, analyze or ask about Opus is just mind blowing to me, so thank you so much for this question!!!!!
So, this may not be exactly what you're after, but I have an AU sitting on a distant backburner that is a Sam character study mashed up with the soulmate-esque idea of "I will find you in any universe."
The general gist is, Kaidan gets yanked out of a universe in which Sam never gets resurrected and the reapers are winning into a universe in which the reapers remained dormant, Sam isn't in the Alliance, and Kaidan died at BAaT. I love the questions it poses and what Sam looks like through such a different lens, but it isn't going to get written any time soon because there are too many challenges with it.
HOWEVER, the dynamic between Sam and Kaidan is different enough that I think a more queerplatonic relationship can exist. The Sam in this universe is a lot more open and free with physical affection.
I wrote a scene that got stuck in my head. It's not great, and I'm not convinced it works, but it does poke at this a little. So here you go!
~
Kaidan pads out into the living room, rubbing the bridge of his nose, sucking in a breath and letting it out slow. Only part of him is surprised to find the holo screen on, and Shepard tucked up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.
Shepard’s insomnia appears to transcend universes.
Whatever he’s watching looks like some low budget salarian flick, with the silhouettes of a human, an info drone, and a FENRIS mech cracking jokes in the corner of the screen. Kaidan’s heart twists. Same taste in movies, too.
Kaidan almost continues onto the kitchen, not even really sure what he’s after – tea, maybe – but hesitates when he nears the couch. At the brush of their biotic fields Shepard looks up, eyebrow arching ever so slightly. Kaidan looks towards the kitchen, then back to the screen, uncertain.
It’s like looking at home through a mirror. Something he can see, but not touch.  
He circles the couch and sits down beside Shepard, who offers him the popcorn bowl without a word. Kaidan shakes his head and scooches over to leave a healthy space between them. Shepard shrugs a nonchalant shoulder and takes another handful for himself, slouching deeper into the cushions.
“Can’t sleep?” he asks.
“Something like that,” Kaidan replies.
Shepard eyes him for a moment before returning his attention to the movie. On the screen, a dozen salarians wearing wigs of human hair march catatonically across the screen.
“Are those salarians supposed to be dressed as humans, or are they supposed to be humans?” Kaidan asks after moment.
“Depends on how you look at it, I guess,” he says with a thoughtful tilt of his head. “It’s a take on invasion of the body snatchers, pod people, the like.”
“…Isn’t the point of those that you can’t tell they’ve been invaded?”
A lopsided smile tugs at his lip. “Something gets lost in the cultural translation, yeah.”
“Never understood what you see in this kind of stuff,” Kaidan says with a shake of his head.
“It’s unwatchable.”
Shepard scoffs. “There’s an art to a good B-movie. Ones like this can give you some pretty wild insight into how aliens see everyone else.” He throws a piece of popcorn in the air and catches it neatly. “I should show you Revenge of the Gun. Salarians recreated an Earth western shot-for-shot, but didn’t have a good translation for the audio. They just made up whatever they wanted. So you have a movie that was lost in translation from the start get interpreted by an alien race, then put back through a translator for non-salarians. It’s our own story twice removed through alien eyes.”
“And you love it, don’t you?”
“Are you kidding? It’s fucking incredible.”
Kaidan chuckles. On the screen, the info drone sings a jingle aimed at the director’s love of close-up reaction shots. “Well, if the bad movies are so amazing, why the snarky commentary?”
Shepard grins. “Because it’s funny.”
They lapse into silence. But it’s…comfortable. Familiar. Kaidan worries his lip, focusing on the wig-wearing salarians. “Do you not have Blasto here?”
“Blasto? Doesn’t ring a bell, and trust me, it would.”
“Blasto the Jellyfish, with a lover in every port and a gun in every tentacle.” Kaidan shakes his head. “This universe is missing out. You’d love it.”   
“Sounds like it.”
“Last I heard, it made quite a stir when they cast an elcor as Blasto’s next lover.”
Shepard snorts.
They fall silent. On screen, a struggling salarian gets shoved into an actual pod, and comes out expressionless, wearing a wig. Kaidan draws his bare feet up on the couch and rests his chin on his knees.
When was the last time he sat down and watched a movie, any movie, much less a mindless, terrible waste of time? Time had become so precious in those final months; he couldn’t afford to waste it on anything. And why? What was precious about it? What was he saving it for? What was going to be left to spend it on?
The only things he spends time on anymore are fear and bad memories.
“You ok?” Shepard asks.
“Fine.” 
“You know, if I’d been fighting a losing war to save all sentient life, lost friends, lost a partner, and lost my family, I’m betting I wouldn’t be fine.”
You weren’t, but you hid it so well.
Kaidan makes a noncommittal sound.
Shepard’s gaze rests on him, silent, shrewd, and Kaidan shifts on the couch cushion, keeping his eyes on the screen. Shepard grunts, leans forward and sets the popcorn bowl on the coffee table.
“I'm here, you know. I know it's...weird. But. You aren’t alone."
When Kaidan says nothing, Shepard shrugs, and retrieves the popcorn.
Kaidan hunches deeper into himself. How many times had he piled on couches in the ‘Yang’s lounge with the squad? How many times had he and Shepard brushed knees, thighs, dozed on each other’s shoulders? All those casual, intimate touches that were just part of the fabric of life, something he’d never seen or noticed until they were gone?
His eyes slide over to Shepard, whose attention is back on the movie. Before he can think about it any harder, he edges closer. Without a word, Shepard sets the popcorn back down and raises his arm until Kaidan curls into the crook of his side. He hooks Kaidan’s forearm with his fingers, arm a reassuring weight around his shoulders.
He’s soft, solid, warm, all the things Kaidan has lacked.
Like the fight’s gone out of him, Kaidan gives into it and lets his head come to rest against Shepard’s shoulder. A knot in his chest tightens until it’s hard to breathe, but the longer he sits, the longer he stays, it starts to loosen, the lead in his bones a little less heavy.  
They watch the movie curled together, Shepard’s hand running up and down his arm. Every now and then one of the jokes draws out a laugh. This close to him, pressed against his ribs, it’s a resonate rumble against Kaidan’s skin, felt as much as it’s heard. Sometimes he fills the silence with commentary, pointing out something about the scene or the context of the joke.
Kaidan says nothing, sometimes listening, sometimes not – either way it doesn’t seem to matter. But when Shepard’s fingers drift towards Kaidan’s hair and idly comb through it, a sigh rattles out of him, ending with a choke and a sound that says nothing but means everything.
Shepard doesn’t say a word, just lets his fingers do the talking, working Kaidan’s scalp, steady and rhythmic. Kaidan closes his eyes, but something in the air changes when Shepard’s gaze settles over him. He feels it without having to see it, like a sixth sense waking up from a long sleep.
It’s a respite. Temporary. Not something he can keep. But in that moment, for the first time in a long time, Kaidan’s heart rests.
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sunfortune · 7 months ago
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can I ask what bridgerton books you’ve read and if they’re worth it
i read “the viscount who loved me” yeeeeears ago. and it is still probably my fav regency romance novel. it’s not even perfect. i just loooved the characterizations. (they’ll NEVER make me hate you book kate) and i think the banter and slow burn in the first half of the book was SOOO good. and literally what so many romance novels LACK. bc insta-lust/love just doesn’t pack the same punch. i’m sorry
also i litchrally claimed kate as a women of color in my own delusions back when i was literally reading a standard White Ass Regency Romance Novel (BEFORE there was ever any show) bc i just loved kate that much. and was like WHOS gonna beat my ass⁉️ (this was after still star crossed lol) she was a woman of color. TO ME.
plus they described kate as “dark” and edwina as “fair” in the book a lot which i know just meant hair/eyes but i was like. slay! no take backs! LDMLSJSKSJ
(so despite everything about the way the show did kate i did absolutely WIN in that aspect)
next. the second book i read was “romancing mister bridgerton”. (again. this is before there was ever a show) bc i liked the little of penelope i saw in kanthonys book. but then. well. reading that book is when i realized “the viscount who loved me” might have been a fluke bc WHAT in the world. “romancing mister bridgerton” was just 350 pages of penelope getting dogged by the boringest MOST bitchless man on earth. the way she PINED for colin from literally page 1. PAGE ONE. but the book doesn’t spend a SINGLE second making him compelling in ANY way, shape or form was MIND boggling. AND THEN gave him the audacity to treat HER like shit⁉️
and the WHOLE TIME the book is like they’re friends to lovers btw!!! hehe <333. NO THEY WERENT! DONT piss me off rn. that man was NOT her friend. he was nice to her ONLY when he deemed her below him. and as soon as he found out she had success in something he didn’t, it was immediate disdain and disrespect for her. that’s not a friend?!
ALL WHILE! she falls all over herself bc of how bad she wants him. i wanted to get her the fuck out of her OWN romance when i was reading that book. i could not believe what it was selling as real true love. garbage
next. i was debating if i should check out another book after that mess. bc i didn’t know if the other were also bad. and eventually just decided to start from the beginning (moment of silence 😞) and pulled up “the duke and i” and then as im reading the synopsis i stumble on a review detailing the plot and that describes the actual sexual assault in that book that gets played off as romance.
aaand i have NOT touched another bridgerton book since
i Have heard eloise’s book and romance is awful by mutuals who have read them all. and benedict’s is not very great either. francesca’s book may be the only worthy follow up to tvwlm. those 2 are generally considered the better ones of the series.
i’m still recovering from the ones i have read though so wont be able to confirm any time soon
in conclusion:
the viscount who loved me (my best friend still idc. not perfect but very gorgeous to me)
romancing mister bridgerton (hot garbage. argue with your mother)
the duke and i (burning books is not always bad. it would be fine here)
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whateveryouiguess · 11 months ago
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let me in.| roommate! eddie munson x reader
warnings: angst to fluff, not that serious tho, reader is sad and eddie tweaks bc he’s in love w her lol. no use of y/n, reader is described as wearing a bonnet to sleep. takes place in modern day :)
a/n: heyyy remember when i started this blog five months ago lmao. anyway. college is hard gimme a break. this wasn’t requested but i think it’s Neat. enjoy!
eddie can’t fuckin cook.
he can work the shit out of a hungry man and boxed macaroni but a genuine, effort-given, home cooked meal? forget about it. this lack of talent hasn’t ever bothered him though, he’s not a particularly picky guy (being dirt poor you learn to just eat what’s in front of you till you get full) so his ineptitude hasn’t created much of a hindrance. until now.
she’s not much into sharing her emotions; she’s always there with open arms when eddie falls apart, but she’s never asked for it in return. instead, she resorts to sulking in her bedroom and waiting till eddie’s left the common area to utilize the space. eddie is a grade a eavesdropper, and he wouldn’t put himself above listening through the wall to check on her when he’s especially worried. he gives her the space she knows he wants, doesn’t pry, but when he stays in the living room all day and doesn’t hear her come out of her room once, not even to eat, he knows it’s time to warp some boundaries.
“soup and self care,” she once described her catch-all sadness remedy. she’s used it on him more times than he can count and he knows for certain that it works like a charm (when accompanied by a tight hug over the shoulders and a warm kiss on the cheek, that is. she never misses.)
—————————————————————————
an hour and a half into fucking up a tomato bisque, eddie considers throwing in the towel and just ordering panera, but he worries the sentiment won’t ring true enough if it’s not from scratch. he groans loudly and drops the still warm pot of a soup homage into the sink, wiping the sweat off his brow with the black handkerchief ever tucked into his back pocket. defeated, he slumps against the marble countertop and heaves a big sigh, eyes trained on the closed, sticker decorated door directly across from the kitchen.
it’s just my period.
his poor girl.
i’m being dramatic.
she was so damn strong.
don’t worry about me.
he would give her the world. he had to.
“fuck it.”
ed slides towards her bedroom door, knocking gently. he hears her clear her throat and reinject the pep into her voice as she calls out a strained “yeah?”
“can i come in?”
“i-“ he hears shuffling, her voice gets closer to the door. “what’s up?” the shakiness in her voice makes his palms tingle and his cheeks burn. he’s hurting for her, and she won’t tell him why.
“sweetheart, please let me in. i know you’re not okay and i-i don’t wanna pry, or make you uncomfortable, y’know, i respect your boundaries and all that, but i…” the words leave him as his hand slumps over the brass knob of her door. “i can’t let you sulk anymore, kid.” his throat aches under the weight of the words that leave his lips. he doesn’t realize how heavy they are until he lets them go. “please.” with a quiet sniffle and a slow turn of the knob, eddie’s made privy to the pitch black mess of her room. she’s back in bed as soon as the door is open. tip toeing around her discarded bra and work clothes, a textbook and her open laptop, he crawls into bed beside her, leaving just enough space for her to roll over and cuddle into him. he craves her surrender, but he wants her to do so willingly. his shoulders feel hollow without the acupressure of her arms around him, he wants nothing more than to scoop her up and cradle her like she does him, but he’d rather be a gorgons lunch before pushing her beyond her limits. so, he settles on resting a hand between her shoulder blades and toying with the little curls at the nape of her neck, picking at the fairy knots and brushing them back under her bonnet when he’s done with them.
“i don’t wanna talk.” she huffs, as if he’d said anything to refute her. he just nods silently and rubs her back, smiling she presses herself up against him shyly.
“tomato bisque or french onion?” she coughs a little and sits up, squinting at him. the pale moonlight bleeding from the window and the blue cast of the doordash order screen on his phone lights him up like a freshwater pearl as he smiles at her confusion. “i’m getting panera, do you want tomato or french onion soup with your grilled cheese?” the scrunch in her nose scares him for a second, until she rolls over onto her other side and curls into his chest. the white flag has risen. his arms are quick to find her waist and shoulders holding her tight, tight, tight, to him. a slow, heated kiss to her temple is the nail in the coffin, and he’s sure he can coax her into a face mask or a back rub later on to complete the usual routine.
homemade or not, he was gonna get his girl some soup. he would get her the world.
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fbfh · 1 year ago
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curiosity is a wonderful thing - chapter 1
wc: 2k
genre: slice of life, slow burn, best friends to lovers
pairing: slowburn best friend ben! x fem daughter of alice!reader, current audrey x ben
warnings: audrey being a bitch, unnecessary amounts of tea, ben being ben, mildly implied nd reader
summary: after a junior royal council meeting, you hype up your best friend Ben to tell his parents about his plans for his first proclaimation as king.
song recs: main titles 1 2 & 3 - descendants score/david lawrence, cheshire kitten (we're all mad here) - sj tucker
a/n: THE NEW SERIES IS HERE!!!! I am so excited for this, it's been one of my comfort indulgence daydreams for the longest time so I'm really elated to share it with y'all. BIG FAT FANGZ TO CICI FOR BETA READING!!!!!! and fangz to you guys for reading!!!!! I hope you enjoy lol <333 have an optional outfit. as a treat.
tags @dustyinkpages @demirunner @strawberry-cake1 @kiara7777 @yesv01 @magcon7280
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Audrey was shocked when Ben had first told her that you and he weren't dating. She knew that you were friends, best friends at that. Everyone in Auradon did. Everyone also knew that what you had between you couldn't possibly be just platonic, not with the way you look at each other, how much time you spend together, or how intimately you speak to each other. It’s like you have your own language.
Everyone in Auradon knows this, with the exception of you and Ben, apparently. Even now, in the middle of a junior royal council meeting, Aziz shares a pitying look with Herkie at the way Audrey holds onto Ben’s arm while he goes over the agenda. Neither of them miss the way her gaze flicks between you two, trying to see if you’re stealing glances. You’re seated at his right hand side, like you usually are, as he goes over the last few items on the agenda for the meeting today and try to pay as much attention as you can. You scribble in your notebook as he does, nibbling at a tea biscuit and trying not to miss any of the important bits. 
“...Facing a longstanding struggle to keep up with the increased demand of the textile industry,” Ben says, skimming through his papers. He glances up, and he knows no one is really paying attention except for you. “Looking to open up a- a more collaborative process of dialog with key workers in the textile industry, and unified front between all the major groups who paved the way to textiles as we know them today, while also compensating for the rise in automation.” 
Across the table, Chad yawns. Lonnie and Melody pass notes between them, at least attempting to be subtle about it. You listen to Ben continue to update everyone on the ongoing current events in Auradon, and your pen drifts away from taking notes as you do, and begins to scribble little shapes in the margins of your well loved notebook. Your other hand moves down under the table, adjusting your pale blue skirt and tugging at the elastic of your black and white striped stockings. Ben’s gaze flicks over to you as you adjust in your seat, tugging at the puffy sleeves of your white blouse a moment later. He can tell you’re starting to get fidgety, which means it’s about time to wrap all this up. Plus, he has a suit fitting in ten minutes that he can’t be late for, or else Lumier will probably char something by accident. 
“Negotiations are still in progress, and of course, we’re looking for any way possible to avoid an embargo. I think that’s the last thing anyone needs…” Ben trails off with a chuckle, only to be met with silence. He looks back at his paper, trying to find his place before the silence gets anymore awkward. Before he can, he hears you let out a puff of air in agreement. 
“That’s quite an understatement.” You smile up at him, catching his eye before you each return to your respective papers. Your Wonderlandian accent is comforting, like a familiar friend in a tough crowd. People have described your accent many ways, most concluding it’s somewhere between british and transatlantic, but you don’t think you have much of an accent at all. Ben says you do, and you trust his judgment on the topic. Audrey maintains a tight smile on her face as Ben gently frees his arm from her to look through his papers in more detail. Once he’s sure he’s not missing anything, he goes through the usual motions of wrapping up a junior council meeting. 
“All party planning committee members are welcome to hang back, the floor is yours,” He says to Audrey, gathering up all his papers with a smile. “Everyone else, thank you for your time as always, and have a good evening.” 
Ben heads to the door as people start to funnel out and make conversation. Audrey waits as the other people on the party planning committee move up the table to sit closer to her, glancing at you as you put your notebook, pens, notes, and teacup back into that teapot shaped bag you always carry. It’s enchanted with Wonderland magic, and it makes her uneasy. She thinks you should just get a tote bag, or backpack, like a normal person. 
“Bunny,” Ben calls from the doorway, getting your attention with the nickname he’s had for you for years. Her train of thought quickly turns away from bags as  you look over, noticing it’s time to go and scurrying over to him. She watches you both talk quietly and head to wherever you’re going next, trying to ignore the quiet, burning jealousy seeping up into her. It’s nothing new, she reminds herself. She knew you two were best friends when she got together with her Bennyboo, so she knew what she was signing herself up for.
“Are we ready?” She asks curtly, turning towards Jane. She refuses to spend another second worrying about you, and instead, she channels all her energy into sifting through streamer sample colors. Whatever you two are doing can’t be as important as this. She’s sure whatever you’re discussing right now during Ben’s suit fitting is just meaningless small talk. Nothing of any importance. 
“I… truly don’t think you could have picked a better, more impactful first proclamation, Ben.” You conclude with a sip of raspberry tea. A wave of relief washes through him as he pulls on the blue suit jacket for Lumier to tailor. 
“You think so? Because, I-I’m only going to get to do this once, and-” 
He’s cut off by you nodding solemnly. 
“What better way to pave the way to the future than mending rifts of the past?” You ask rhetorically. 
“Yes!” Ben exclaims, letting his hands fall to his sides with a smile, a gesture you mirror. “You get it…” 
“Of course.” You smile at him, and it’s quiet for a moment as you take another sip of your tea. “You know your parents will…” You begin, but Ben is already nodding. 
“Oh yeah.” He agrees. “I wrote down everything from the pros column, and ideas for everything in the cons.” 
“Good,” you say, encouragingly. 
“And I have a great mission statement.” He adds, and you can see him getting fired up. You know how much this means to him, how much of his heart he’s putting into helping as many people as possible and being a good king to everyone, even the citizens on the Isle. If you know Ben - and you’re sure you do by now - you know how he can start to overthink things right before a presentation, even an informal one. He’s as prepared as he’ll ever be, and you have his back. He knows this.
“Oh, I meant to ask,” you say breezily as Lumier enters, “how are things going with Audrey?”  
You wiggle your eyebrows at him, sending him a comically scandalous look. He laughs as you wave hello to Lumier, and you think it’s the first time he’s relaxed in the last 30 hours or so. You flip through your journal, selecting a few pictures you took recently of flora in Wonderland, doodling their leaves and stalks on a mostly blank page. He laughs, hanging his head at the unexpected nature of the question, and Lumier pulls out a tape measure to begin the alterations of Ben’s suit. 
“You’re really- we’re really going to go there?” He asks through a smile. You look up at him, nodding. 
“Mhm.” You confirm. He can’t say no to you, he never can. 
“Okay. Uh, yeah things are good. With me and Audrey.” 
“Good,” you smile, looking up from your paper. He wonders what you’re working on, and always looks forward to seeing your little drawings. Even the ones you dislike, he finds beautiful. He tries to think of what else is going on with Audrey. 
“We, uh… we have a date later this week.” 
“Sleeve.” Lumier interjects, moving Ben’s arm.
“Oh, how fun!” You smile. 
“Head.” Lumier turns Ben to look out the large windows. He thinks for another moment, struggling to find anything else Audrey related to talk about as you distract yourself with the expression of a pouting mushroom you’d gotten a good picture of last time you were in Wonderland. Before he can think of anything else his eyes land on the Isle. His mind wanders toward how forgotten everyone out there must feel. You look up at him, following his gaze. 
“I know.” You say softly. You’ve discussed the Isle and its’ residents at great lengths, both finding a greater deal of compassion for them than most people seem to have. 
“How is it possible that you’re going to be crowned king next month?” Comes King Adam’s booming voice as he and Belle enter from the patio doors. 
“Hello, dear,” Belle smiles at you, resting a hand on your shoulder as they pass, approaching Ben, and you smile a greeting back up at her, and begin putting away your notebook. As close as you two are, you can’t expect anyone but the royal family to be in the room during discussions of Ben’s first proclamation. Both you and Ben knew this had to be a conversation between him and his parents, and as much as you both might like it to be, it’s not really something he can do with you by his side. You scurry past him, sending him an encouraging look. 
“You’ll do great.” You say, your voice just low enough for him to hear it. You touch his arm encouragingly until Lumier shoos you away, not wanting anything to jeopardize the way he finally got Ben’s shoulder to lay on that side. Ben locks eyes with you as you leave. It’s only a moment, but those three words, that one little gesture from you have him more ready than ever. He prepares himself with a breath. 
You’ll probably sneak off to Wonderland for a while, like you usually do with any pockets of spare time you find, so you’ll get to update him on the feud going on between the bluebirds and inchworms by the time he’s done. He takes comfort in that, knowing that even in the worst case scenario, even if everything goes horribly wrong, you’ll still have some fascinating Wonderland stories for him, just like you always do. He finds great comfort in the thought as his parents approach, and knows two things; it’s time for him to begin stepping up, and that you have his back all the way. 
You close the heavy wooden door behind you, walking a few feet down the hall so you don’t accidentally eavesdrop. You sit down against the wall to wait for Ben, and your mind drifts to Wonderland, as it so often does. There’s a peace there, something you’ve never been able to find overland. It calls to you, like a sailor’s heart calls to the sea. You wonder if you have time for a quick trip, just a few minutes in paradise, but you know it’s never really just a few minutes. Time works differently in Wonderland than it does in overland, and it’s unpredictable. The last thing you want is not to be here when Ben is done talking to his parents. 
“I’d better not…” you sigh. Being here for Ben is more important right now. He’s your best friend. So you settle into your little spot in the hallway, smoothing out your blue skirt around you. You reach into your teapot shaped bag, pulling out a small white porcelain teacup with little violets on it, and a matching saucer. You think for a moment about what kind of tea you want right now. Hibiscus, you decide, with a touch of honey. You tilt the spout of your bag, letting the perfectly brewed cup of tea fall from the spout. You take a sip, leafing through your homework to see what you can bore yourself with to pass the time. You don’t know how long Ben will be in there, and you don’t care too much. You’re sure he’ll do wonderfully, and that’s really all you care about right now. 
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