#i got my masters degree and have a new job which is

[l3onart]

Not making art -> not posting -> self conscious to pick up art again-> self conscious to start posting again -> rinse and repeat

[ID: fanart of Daniel Pleasant and Don Lothario. Daniel is holding Don by his shirt collar, looking at him angrily. Don smirks, but blood is coming out of his nose. The text on this picture is cut off, but it reads "play stupid games, win stupid prizes". /end ID]

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

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Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

[purplealmonds]

Finished this just in time for the new trailer drop! This is my Mononoke illustration featuring assorted merch from the anime, movie, and stage play! How many can you recognize? ⚖️👹

(Yes, please send answers in the replies! Answers, progress pics, artist commentary will be drafted on a separate post when I'm less tired) ⭐️ UPDATE 04/03/24: Abridged artist commentary is now available under the cut! For the full version, please see the Google Doc linked in the replies.

👁️Overview 

Late last year, I rather belatedly discovered Mononoke’s 15th anniversary came and went, and with it, an entire swath of new content to manically pore over. This is an illustration of the various Mononoke merchandise, props, and set dressing I discovered.

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🔎Scope

Some fun facts regarding the work that went into this illustration!

Not including research time, this project ran for roughly two months, consuming much of my waking hours outside of my full time and freelance jobs.

While the illustration does not depict all of my findings, it does feature over 120 unique props and set dressings!

The majority of the props and set dressing were modeled to varying degrees of detail in SketchUp.

To model prep, I often put together schematics on Photoshop or Illustrators. Some were created from scratch. Others were created with the liberal usage of the Photoshop transform and perspective warp function. 

The master file is 1.5GB. The dimensions are 6400x3600 at 300 dpi, and contains over 2,200 layers. 

Near the end of production, the master file became so unwieldy I created a separate working file. This way, I could create assets lag-free then import the layers into the master file. 

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Past this point is where most of the commentary cuts were made for the sake of brevity. Again, look in the replies for the Google Doc link containing the full version with a table of contents for easier navigation!

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🗳️3D Layout

As you can see, the backbone of this illustration is the 3D model. I spent perhaps 30-40% of my production time on this stage.

And this is the lit version. The lighting ultimately got downplayed in favor of showcasing the vibrant colors. I like how simple it looks though!

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🎬Production-Based Set Dressing

In addition to merchandise, I wanted to insert set dressing and props from the various Mononoke productions. 

🦊Kusuriuri

It’s odd to have a section dedicated just to him, but his unique appearance warrants it. His garb and overall appearance is an amalgam of the anime and movie. The original intent was ambiguity– kind of like the blue/black vs. yellow/white dress phenomena a few years back. But after doing the color flats, I rather liked how the rich, unaltered colored fit with the overall composition so it became more blatant. I’m surprised that nobody has commented on this since I published the illustration. Maybe because I didn’t feature him in a close-up?

🐈 kai ~Ayakashi~Bake Neko (2006)

Finding props iconic to this story arc (outside of the Kusuriuri’s tools of trade, of course) was somewhat difficult. While the environment was richly decorated, it mainly consisted of 2D artwork which I wasn’t keen on retracing. I opted to paint objects that characters interacted with or featured heavily in the show.

Salt Jar

Candlestick

Rat Trap

🦋Mononoke (2007)

The props fall into three distinct categories here: Kusuriuri’s tools and trinkets; things featured in the opening and ending credits; and objects iconic to each of the five story arcs in the series. I tried to keep most of them clustered on the tatami, but as space grew scarce some props trickled up onto the deck as well.

Medicine Box

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Mirror

Ring

Geta Sandal

Necklace

Paper Umbrella (Zashikiwarashi)

Daruma Dolls ( Zashikiwarashi)

Gunpowder Ball (Umi Bozu)

Smoking Pipe (Nopperabou)

Genjiko Blocks (Nue)

Train Ticket (Bake Neko)

Lantern (Anime OP)

Butterflies (Anime EP)

☂️Mononoke: Karakasa (2024)

Pretty slim pickings for the new movie since I only had the teaser, first trailer, and movie poster to reference from. Kusuriuri’s tools of trade were a given, but finding memorable and narratively significant objects was a tad troublesome.

Thankfully, the set dressing ended up (however subconsciously) strikingly similar to the movie’s environment design, down to the green tatami and multicolor shoji screen. I suppose at this point I was so immersed in Mononoke content that its aesthetics subconsciously informed my design choices! 

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Comb

Movie Poster

Butterfly (Custom design)

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🪭Official Merchandise

Goods related to canonical narratives and/or productions.

🎊15th Anniversary

Mononoke Shu - A light novel by Hideyui Niki & illustrated by 2964_KO

Whiskey Glass & Box

📖 Key Frame Art Books by Hashimoto Takashi

Ayakashi Key Art Frame Book (2010)

Key Frame Art Book vol.9 (2017)

📚Manga by Yaeko Ninagawa

Kai Ayakashi: Bake Neko Vol. 1-2

Kai Ayakashi: Mononoke Prequel

Mononoke Vol. 1-10

🎭Butai Mononoke

Bakeneko Pamphlet 

Zashikiwarashi Pamphlet

Zashikiwarashi Acrylic Standees

Zashikiwarashi Manegi

💿Physical Media

Official OST CD

DVD Box Set

Yokai Pattern Fabric

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Common Collab Merchandise

This category consists of goods that are generally more affordable and feature graphics from the source material with minimal alterations.

Amnibus

Wall Scrolls

Tenugui Fabric 

Shot Glasses

Minoyaki Bean Plates

ANIGA-TER

Stickers

Can Badges

Canvas Prints

Anique

Diorama Acrylic Stand

Acrylic Blocks

Challenge Kuji

Kusuriuri & Hyper Clocks

eeo Store Online

Folding Fan

Keychains

Can Badges

gj character G

Cushion

Acrylic Charms

Neo Gate

Satchels

Mini Badges

Mini Badges by Mame Shinoda

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High-End Collab Merchandise

Goods which derive motifs from the characters, props, and patterns from the production and transform them in an elevated manner through abstraction or usage of precious materials.

gj character G

Exorcism Sword Ring

Goodsmile

Kusuriuri Nendoroid Figurine

Folding Screen

Kusuriuri & Hyper Plush

Tote Bag

Kaya

Umbrella

Tenbin Kanzashi

Tabi Socks

Dress

Kotobukiya

Figurine

Mayla

Pump Heels

Kusuriuri & Hyper Hairpins

Tenbin Earrings

Hyper Earrings

Noitamina Apparel

Perfume

Tenbin Necklace

Folding Fan

Super Groupies

Purse

Wallet

Watch

Tsumuji Design

Exorcism Sword Necklace

Ofuda Bracelet

Useless Use Lab

Fragrance Set

Air Purifier

Three-Sided Mirror

[motorsportbarbie13]

Forbidden - Part 1

In which you reconnect with an old friend, much to the dismay of your brother.

Warnings: None. This is mostly background and will be several parts.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader Word Count: 2.6k words Masterlist Here

It started slowly, this thing between your brother's best friend and biggest rival and you. So slowly that you hadn't been directly involved, you probably wouldn't have even noticed the clandestine brushing of fingers to skin in the paddock or the flickering looks that lingered just a bit too long. Even the way Max managed to stare at you from his garage went unnoticed by everyone but you. But what started slowly over one summer quickly snowballed into something that nearly destroyed you both.

You'd known Max since you were young, of course, so maybe that was why the pair of you managed to keep things hidden for so long. You two being friendly wasn't all that out of the ordinary so maybe that was why it took people longer to connect the dots. You two had always been friends, but it was a quiet friendship so not many people picked up on it, even back then. But he had always been firmly in the ‘my brother’s best friend and track rival’ category for as long as you could remember.

Did it drive you crazy that they were much quicker to involve your younger brother, Arthur, in their antics instead of you? Yes. But Charlie and his friends were like the untouchable super hero's you watched in movies: larger than life and totally invincible so you always lapped up any ounce of attention they gave you.

As you got older though, your trips to the track became less and less frequent with you picking up your own interests. You traded weekends at the track for weekends spent with friends your own age who didn't worship the ground your brother and his friends walked on. Before long, you were headed off to university in New York City, wanting a bit of space from your famous brother and his aura. You loved Charlie and Arthur to death, they were your favorite people in the world after all, but it was difficult being the 'normal' sister to such talented men and the space had allowed you to thrive on your own, in your own way. 

You went home to Monaco infrequently, the trip from New York to the small principality being just long enough to be annoying to do regularly and traveled to races even less. It wasn’t that you didn’t support Charlie. You always made sure to be at his home race in Monaco and the race in Monza of course, but your life was in New York. First it was your rigorous coursework for your degree in economics from NYU that kept you away and then you continued on with a Master’s degree in economics and international business, the intensity of both programs serving you well crafted excuses for years. 

“You’re really going to come travel with us?” Charlie was unable to hide his surprise and excitement this morning when you called to tell him your post-graduation plans. 

“It’s been the hardest year of my life, between my thesis, interning at the investment firm in Manhattan, and finishing up grad school, I’ve barely had a chance to breathe for years. I need a break Charlie.” You sigh, settling into your couch that faces the floor to ceiling windows in your New York apartment that was currently full of packing boxes. 

“I know you do. You’re the hardest working person in this family.” 

You chuckle, knowing that this wasn’t true. Your two brothers worked just as hard, if not harder, at their careers in motorsport. There was no way Charlie would have reached F1 if he hadn’t been a hard worker. You might be the smartest LeClerc though, although you knew Arthur would never admit to that even if Charlie would. 

“What happened to that job in London?” 

You pick at an invisible piece of lint, wanting to avoid the question, as you shrug even though your brother couldn’t see you. “I told them I wasn’t interested. They wanted too much from me and I’m just so close to being burnt out. I’m taking on a consulting gig with the Bank of London. They’ve agreed to allow me to work remotely so I can live in Monaco and travel. I’ve missed so much of your career Charlie, I hate that I’ve been so absent from everyone for so long.” 

Charlie’s voice goes soft at the sound of regret in your voice, “Oh, petit papillon.” My little butterfly. You can’t help but smile at the nickname, despite the melancholy mood that had settled over you. “We know you did what you had to do to make you happy, we don’t blame you for being gone for so long. All that matters now is that your studies are done and we get to see you more.” 

Your heart warms in your chest. Of course Charlie hadn’t held your distance against you, it wasn’t in his nature to hold grudges against you, even when you fought the hardest. “I’m so excited to come home, Charlie.” 

*Six Weeks Later*

A faint tapping on the front door catches your attention from where you sat in Charlie’s living room, staring at the same spreadsheet you had been working on for the last hour. “Saved by the knock.” You mutter, getting up from your spot on you’re brother’s couch. You’ve spent so much time on the plush piece of furniture over the last few days, busy with work, that you’re surprised there’s not a permanent indent of your backside on the cushion. 

Finding an apartment in Monaco was proving harder than you had thought. Every flat you looked at in the city was either so far out of your price range or was missing something you deemed essential to have in your living space so for the time being you were staying with Charlie and Alexandra in their guest bedroom until the right place came around. 

“Coming!” You call out, hoping to alert the person knocking on the front door to your approach. Although you couldn’t fathom who would be at the door in the middle of the day on a Tuesday afternoon. You quickly run through an inventory of where the important people in your life were: Charlie was at a sponsor event while Alex was at doing some content creation in Paris for the gallery that she worked for. Your mother was at work of course and Arthur was off somewhere with his girlfriend Jade today. Everyone accounted for and busy. 

Without checking the peephole, you swing the door open wide, relieved for an excuse to take a break from the project that had found its way to your inbox early this morning. 

“Maxie!” You gasp, launching yourself into the unprepared arms of the Dutchman who you hadn’t seen in years. 

Max was thankful for his quick reflexes that were required of a world championship winning F1 driver because without them, the two of you would have found yourselves in a heap of limbs on the floor. “Beestje! You nearly took me out.” Max sets you down carefully but not before you have a chance to swat at his arm. 

“You know I hate when you call me that.” You pout, nipping at his finger when he teasingly swipes at your lip. Max had called you ‘little beast’ for as long as you could remember, always delighting in your cries of protest when he did. If there was one thing Max loved, it was teasing Charlie’s sister.  

He grins down at you, dimples winking out at the corner of his mouth. “That’s why I do it.” 

Rolling your eyes, you open the door wide enough to allow the both of you to enter the empty apartment. Max follows you into the living room, where your computer sits discarded. 

“I didn’t know you were visiting.” Max says, trying to remain calm as you settle down on the couch opposite of him. 

You had always been gorgeous, those good looking LeClerc genes that Charles was so famous for had obviously been passed on to you as well, but now? You were hands down the most stunning woman Max had ever seen in his entire life. Your social media presence was sparse, at best, so while he followed you, it was rare for you to post much of anything. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw you in person either, knowing that you much preferred to avoid the harsh light of fame that came with being a LeClerc. 

“Charlie didn’t tell you? I moved back!” You wave a hand towards your laptop, “I got a job with the Bank of London doing consulting work, fully remote.” 

“No, Charles didn’t tell me.” Max says, narrowing his eyes. He had just played padel with Charles and Carlos the other day and he hadn’t made a single mention of you being back. “Where is he, anyway? I came by to see if he wanted to go for a run tonight.” 

You shrug, trying to force your heart rate to slow to a pace that couldn’t potentially be heard by people playing the slots at the famous Monte Carlo Casino down the street. You had always had a juvenile crush on Max. Honestly, who wouldn’t? His demeanor on the track and in the paddock was completely opposite of who he was in private. You may have not spent much, if any, time with him the past decade but you knew that the Max that had been your brother’s childhood best friend and rival was the same Max sitting next to you right now. Nothing had changed.

“He’s at some event for Ferrari. I’ll never understand why people want to pay thousands of dollars to get to talk to the likes of you chuckle heads. How would those donors feel knowing they invested so much in a person that once got so drunk on their birthday they thought the Uber driver was trying to kidnap them because they, and I quote, ‘could totally make a killing with the ransom Christian would pay to get me back.’” 

“That was ONE time!” He croaks, blinking at you in surprise. “And how the fuck did you know about that? Charles swore he’d never tell anyone about that.” 

You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out and Max momentarily forgets how embarrassed he is that you know that story. It’s light and airy, the notes dragging their fingers down Max’s skin. “I’m not ‘anyone’, Maxie darling. You know that.” 

And boy did he. Just the way you wink at him while calling him ‘Maxie darling’ is enough to send his mind into overdrive, wondering how it would feel if more of your attention was turned his way. 

Max just smirks back, fighting to keep up the cool facade he’s usually got so carefully constructed in place. He expertly steers the conversation away from anymore potentially embarrassing stories and towards you. How you’ve been. The near year you spent writing your thesis paper for your Master’s degree. The life you’ve built so far away from Max. It makes his heart squeeze something fierce knowing that you two have drifted so far apart.

Before you know it, the sun is sinking low in the sky, casting a glittering glow over the water just outside the apartment. The sunlight filters in through the half-drawn curtains, bathing you in a golden light. Max had never understood why everyone raves about the beauty of ‘golden hour’ until he saw the setting sun reflected in your eyes. 

He was in so much trouble. 

You two are so lost in your conversation you don’t notice the front door swing open or Charles bustling through the door hours later. Charles pauses when he sees the two of you sat on the couch together. Somewhere between the first and second glass of wine that you had poured when it became evident neither of you wanted the afternoon to end, you had ended up quite close to Max. His hand sat outstretched over the back of the couch, hovering just out of reach of your shoulder. You were leaning into him ever so slightly, laughing at something Max had said moments before. The obvious intimacy between the two of you set off alarm bells for Charles, not liking how Max was looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. 

The thing was, Charles is quite protective of you. It was one of the reasons you always tried to leave the details about your love life out of any conversation you had with either of your brothers. Arthur was bad enough, but your twin? Charles was of the opinion that no one was ever good enough for you. Especially someone like Max. While he wasn’t as bad as some of the guys on the grid (lookin at you Lando Norris), Max still liked to party and take advantage of how often pretty girls threw themselves at him. He did not want someone like that interested in his sister. He knew how much you valued your privacy and that was not something someone like Max could offer you. 

“What’s going on here?” Charles fought to keep the hostility out of his voice, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Max jumped off the couch like it had suddenly burst into flames. He knew how protective Charles was over you and judging by the stormy look on your brother’s face, he wasn’t happy to find him there tonight. 

You, on the other hand, found it amusing how quickly your brother’s protective side reared it’s ugly head. There was nothing to be ashamed of, you knew that. You were just two friends catching up after being apart for so long. Totally innocent. Right? Right. 

“Max stopped by to see if you wanted to go on a run and we just got lost in conversation is all, Charlie.” You sooth, knowing your brother has a short fuse when it comes to you. 

Charles narrows his eyes at Max as if he doesn’t believe your words and to be honest, he probably shouldn’t. If he had known the thoughts racing through Max’s head over the last few hours, Max would have probably found himself in the gravel pit of whatever race was next on the calendar. 

“I was just leaving.” Max stutters, glancing down at where you still sit on the couch, amused grin playing at the corner of your lips. 

“It was nice to see you Maxie.” 

Max doesn’t miss the way Charles clenches his fists when you say his name like that. 

“Always a pleasure, Beestje.” He teases, hoping that Charles doesn’t pick up on the nervous waver in his voice. 

You tip your wine glass towards him in a mock salute before picking up your laptop where it’s sat discarded for the last few hours while Max makes a beeline for the front door. Charles follows him out, eyes trained on the back of his friends head, trying to calm the storm of anger that is swirling around his gut. 

“I don’t think it needs to be said but stay away from my sister.” Charles practically growls when Max’s hand closes over the doorknob. 

“We’re just friends Charles. I haven’t seen her in ages, we were just catching up.” 

“I don’t look at my friends the way you were just looking at her.” Charles grouses. “Just don’t, okay? I don’t want to give her any reason to leave again. If you hurt her, she’ll go running. Leave her alone.” 

Max nods, unable to find the words he wants to use because he has a feeling ‘fuck you, I’ll do whatever I want with your sister’ seems like a bad way to end the conversation. But as he waits for the elevator in the quiet hall, he knows that staying away from you is going to be near impossible. 

[sofiadzzle]

Magnetic Force of a Man

smut 18+ mdni

Pairing: ceo!Jay x worker!Y/N

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, dom!Jay, impregnation, dirty talk, fingering, pussy fucking, female masturbation, age gap (4 years), exhibitionism, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cursed as I stared down at the tear in my brand new sheer pantyhose. "Run-proof my ass! "

Shaking my head in dismay, I quickly looked around the large underground parking garage, praying to God that no one could see or hear me as I hurriedly positioned myself between my front door and the driver's seat of my beige sedan, hiking my lavender pencil skirt up to my ass, and then slid the ruined pair of hose the rest of the way down my legs.

Thankfully, I packed an extra pair!

I sat down on the side of the car seat and removed my violet high heels, almost like I was pulling out the replacements, taking them from the packing and quickly began slipping my feet inside.

The voice of a man said abruptly, "Yes, that's right."

My breath caught in my throat, I paused and turned to see the source of the voice. I was stunned by what I saw and halted abruptly, my new pantyhose halfway up my legs.

He had a great appearance. He was sitting at least fifty feet away from me, yet I could still see the platinum shine of his watch as he raised his left arm to check the time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy blue suit. His shiny black low-cut hair must have reached at least five eleven" in height.

With a dark satchel clasped in his right hand, he confidently walked towards the elevator labeled "PRIVATE." His broad shoulders, confident gait, and commanding presence evoked the image of a male model seen in GQ publications. His whole demeanor was confident.

I could tell that he was chatting to someone else and not about me or my pantyhose dilemma when a blue light blinked next to his ear. He never even gave me a sidelong glance.

I eventually snapped back to reality as he slid behind one of the pillars and finished pulling on my pantyhose. I tucked my skirt in and put my stilettos back on, eager to begin my first day of training as an executive assistant for Park Industries within the enormous, imposing Park Business building. (It seems the corporation required more than one because it was so large.)

I'd never seen or heard of Jay Park, the CEO of the company, before applying for this job. Even though I had looked him up online, all the pictures I could find of him included him wearing dark sunglasses and hats, which made me think he was probably a very secretive person. It appeared that he would much rather maintain a very low profile than be in the spotlight.

Nothing could have prepared me for the day I visited the Park Building for the first time, even though I had finished an internship at a Fortune 500 corporation close to my college campus.

My first interview had been with a woman named Son Eunsaem. She'd had a highly professional appearance and a no-nonsense attitude. She hadn't smiled once during the interview.

I was surprised when I got a call back for a second interview. That was where I met the other executive assistants. Park Industries had an executive assistant for each and every department in the company, and I had applied to the marketing department.

And I started working on the actual job today. At nine o'clock, I had my official orientation meeting, and then I was meant to meet with Jay Park, the company's CEO.

On their first day of work, all new hires were required to meet with the CEO, who was said to like having face-to-face meetings with each and every one of his staff members. I'll admit that I was anxious, but I was also interested to see this billionaire's true appearance.

The thirty-story building housed the marketing department on its twenty-fifth floor. At the orientation, there was another new hire in addition to me. Ryu Hanbin was his name, and he had been employed in the software department.

At orientation, our ID cards were issued to each of us. We were granted entry to the elevators, break facilities, and exits reserved for employees only. My heart started to race inside my chest as the orientation was coming to a conclusion.

Hanbin and I were taken to a private employee elevator and showed how to use our ID cards to operate it. Jay Park's office was on the top floor, and that's where our orientation leader, a middle-aged woman named Won Chaerin, led us up.

As the elevator door opened at the pinnacle floor, we had been greeted with the aid of using a short, stout, but very neat and well-groomed bald guy with a cleanly-shaven face in a vibrant purple pantsuit.

"Welcome to Park Land,” he stated with a welcoming grin as he reached out to shake our hands. "That's what we name the pinnacle floor, right here." He appeared to laugh after each sentence he spoke. “My call is Jinyoung, however all of us right here calls me Jin.” Another laugh.

What a unusual guy, I thought.

He led us down a hallway that ended with a reception table and a small living room area. There had been high-returned black leather-based chairs and a large flat-display tv withinside the ready area. There additionally regarded to be a bar of a few kind in the back of the reception table.

"Y'all can simply make yourselves comfortable whilst I allow Mr. Park recognize you are right here,” he instructed us with every other laugh earlier than sashaying returned to his spot in the back of the reception table.

"Thank you,” I instructed him as I took a seat in one of the leather-based chairs and crossed my legs.

As I sat ready, my heart commenced to overcome so rapid that it felt like it'd leap up out of my throat at any second. A stolen look over at Hanbin noticed his foot nervously tapping in opposition to the carpeted floor, and I felt relieved that I wasn't the simplest worried individual withinside the room.

A second later, the telephone on Jin's table rang, and he spoke back it on speaker.

"Send Ms. Y/L/N in first,” the voice said in a deep, authoritative tone.

"Right away, sir," Jin answered as he glanced over towards me.

I stood up and accompanied him down but every other lengthy hallway, with stylish artwork lining the partitions and porcelain statues each few feet.

At the quit of the hall, there has been a fancy-searching door with a platinum door knob.

"Knock, knock,” Jin said in a singsong-like voice as he knocked on it twice before turning the knob and pushing it open. “Ms. Y/L/N, meet Mr. Jay Park.”

He waited for me to step inside the large, elaborately decorated office before shutting the door behind me.

I stood there, with my back to the door and my orientation folder in my hand, not sure what to do next. Mr. Park had his head down and was doing something on his phone, but as soon as the door closed, he looked directly up at me, and my jaw almost hit the floor in utter awe.

Jay Park was none other than the sexy, model-esque man who'd been walking through the employee parking garage earlier.

I knew I was staring, but I didn't care. The man was a real-life Adonis.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N. Come. Have a seat.”

It was more of an order than a request, but I didn't mind. He had the most hypnotizing pair of eyes. They were a deep, dark br, and I felt as if I could get lost in them if I stared too long.

He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. He was eyeing me curiously as I made my way over to the chair in front of his huge, rectangular desk. I felt as if he was sizing me up for something... something other than just this job position.

"So, Ms. Y/L/N, you are twenty-four and you have an MS in Business Management. Impressive. What are your plans in the next five years?”

I felt completely on the spot. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Well, I'm hoping to be working a job I love, maybe get promoted, and start moving up in the ranks."

"Hmm," he said quietly.

I leaned forward a bit and noticed that he had a folder open with my resume, cover letter, and some photos of me inside.

"Do you know why I require all of my assistants to have Masters degrees?” he asked as he stood up and began to walk slowly around his desk.

My heart sped up and began to beat harder than ever. He had removed his suit jacket, and his white silk shirt hugged his toned upper body with flair, accenting the broadness of his shoulders.

I shook my head and swallowed hard as my body temperature began to rise. No man had ever had such a profound effect on me. I could actually feel heat starting to build within my core and a noticeable tingling between my thighs.

He walked around to the back of my chair and stood behind me. My heart was beating a billion beats per minute.

"It's because I find educated women incredibly sexy," he said softly, leaning down close to my ear.

I shuddered at the feel of his breath against my lobe. My body was completely on fire for this man, and he hadn't even touched me. I was at a loss for words.

I wanted to glance up at him, but I was frozen in place like a stone statue, and all I could do was sit there facing forward as I waited to see what was going to happen next. From behind me, I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale slowly.

“Ahh, your perfume is intoxicating, but I sense something else about you, Ms. Y/L/N. You are in your prime,” he stated sensuously, his voice barely more than a whisper.

His lips were so close to my neck that his breath felt hot against my skin. It caused a shiver to run down my spine, and I had to muster every ounce of strength to keep a moan from escaping my lips.

Then, suddenly, he stood straight up and walked back around to the other side of his desk, and his demeanor had returned to a strictly professional one.

"Mrs. Son was quite impressed with you and spoke very highly of your interview," he said plainly as he sat back down in his chair.

"Really? Wow," I replied.

"You sound surprised," he said with a slight grin. "I know she can come across as somewhat ‘rigid, but it's all just part of how she does her job. She's extremely professional and would make an excellent poker player, no doubt.”

He chuckled slightly at his comment, and I uttered a small giggle as well.

"Well, I'm certain you'll be a definite asset to Park Industries, Ms. Y/L/N. Welcome to the team,” he said with a smile.

His smile revealed a set of the most perfect pearly whites I had ever seen up close. While staring at them, I almost missed the fact that he'd also extended his hand to me.

"Thank you, Mr. Park,” I said nervously, returning his smile with one of my own.

"You have a lovely smile, Ms. Y/L/N," he stated softly, still holding onto my hand after I'd stopped shaking it.

“Thanks,” I said coyly, tearing my eyes away from his before I became completely lost in them.

He ran his thumb slowly across the side of my hand before finally letting it go. That small, simple touch from him only added more fuel to the fire that was already building in my loins.

“Ms. Y/L/N? ”He called out to me just as I was about to leave his office.

"Yes?" I replied, turning around to look at him one more time.

"I'm having a small meeting this evening at the Italy Garden restaurant. The dress code is semi-formal. Can you be ready by 7:00?”

"Uhh, yes. Certainly, Mr. Park,” I replied, caught completely off guard.

"Great. I'll send a car to your place at 7:00, then.”

I left his office feeling flustered in more ways than one. It had been more than a year since I'd last had sex, and my attraction to Mr. Park was anything but subtle. He had a magnetic effect on me, one that I knew I was incapable of fighting.

I walked swiftly down the hall, past the small lounge where Hanbin was still seated, and into the ladies' restroom directly adjacent to Jin's reception desk. Breathing hard, I went into one of the stalls, set my folder down on the back of the commode, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and yanked my pants down to my thighs.

Panting like an animal in heat, I sat down on the seat and spread my legs.

"Mmm," I muttered as I closed my eyes and placed my right hand on the crotch of my thin satin pants.

Yanking my pants to the side, I exposed my moist, partially-swollen bud and began to massage it. Another moan escaped my lips as I bucked my hips and rubbed my pussy faster and harder.

I imagined that Mr. Park was in the bathroom stall with me and that he had pulled my pants to the side. It was his lips and tongue against my throbbing, swollen bulb, causing sighs and moans of delight to escape my mouth and sending me into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Ohhh,” I murmured softly as I pictured him rubbing the head of his hard, pulsating cock against my slick, hot slit.

I imagined his hands grabbing my ass cheeks and squeezing them hard in a fit of primal, uncontrollable passion. I pictured him entering me slowly at first, until his rock-hard dick was deep inside my pussy, stretching me to the limit.

"Fuuuck," I whispered as I plunged my fingers as deep into my warm, wet tunnel as they would go. "Yesss! Fuck me, Mr. Park!"

I imagined his cock moving in and out of me, faster and harder, fucking like wild animals as we both got closer and closer to our climaxes. Completely and totally engulfed in how unbelievably good the sex felt, neither one of us even cared that we were fucking unprotected.

"I want you to cum inside me, Mr. Park,” I imagined telling him. “Oh fuck, yessss! Cum in my pussy! Fill me up with your cum."

I didn't even care if I got pregnant or not; I just needed to feel his hot cum inside of me.

I was right on the brink of my orgasm, and I could already tell it was going to be a really good one. As I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, I pictured myself biting down on Mr. Park's ear to stifle my passion-filled moans.

My legs began to shake, and my hips bucked uncontrollably as a powerful climax wracked my entire body. I imagined Mr. Park squeezing my ass cheeks hard as his cock squirted into my cunt, filling me to the brim.

"Ohhh," I whispered, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as my orgasm began to wane.

After taking a moment to enjoy the afterglow, I quickly cleaned myself up, left the restroom, and headed back down to the 25th floor to finish out my workday.

I had just finished putting on my makeup when I noticed it was 6:45. The dress I had selected for tonight's meeting was a long, form-fitting silver cocktail gown I'd bought last spring. It was elegant, with a touch of sex appeal. The back dipped below the waist, and the front wrapped around the neck.

At 6:54, I heard a horn blow outside of my apartment. I slid into a pair of silver stiletto sandals, grabbed a small silver purse, and headed outside.

"Wow!" I exclaimed when I saw the pearly white stretch limousine waiting at the curb.

A tuxedo-clad chauffer opened my door for me and helped me into the back seat.

The inside of the limousine was immaculate! There was a fully-stocked bar with liquor, wine, and champagne. There were wine glasses on a glass shelf next to the bar. There was also a small fridge with fruits, cheeses, and other exotic-looking snack foods.

I helped myself to a glass of champagne and turned on the satellite radio to listen to on the way to the restaurant.

When we arrived about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur helped me out of the limo, and I walked inside. An older male host in a black and white suit was standing at a podium near the entrance.

"Good evening, Madam. Welcome to the Italy Garden restaurant. Do you have a reservation?” he asked.

“Umm, yes. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here for a dinner meeting with Mr. Jay Park,” I replied anxiously, trying hard to hide how nervous I truly was.

The five-star dining facility was way out of my league and price range. I had never been in a place so upscale and fancy. There were scores of expensive-looking pictures hanging on the walls and exquisite artifacts and statues in and around the corners.

I followed the host to a luxurious VIP balcony area where Jay Park was already seated and waiting for me.

"You look amazing, Ms. Y/L/N," he said, flashing that billion-dollar smile that made me want to melt right where I stood.

"Thank you," I replied shyly, returning a smile his way.

The host pulled out my chair, and I sat down.

"I've taken the liberty to order us a bottle of the finest champagne this place has to offer,” he told me with a grin. “What are you in the mood for?”

I couldn't pronounce a single dish on the menu.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I said softly, closing my menu and setting it to the side. I didn't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of our waiter.

"This champagne is delightful," I exclaimed before taking another sip.

"Only the best for a woman as perfect as you, Y/N," Jay stated sweetly.

It was the first time he'd ever called me by my first name. I could feel my cheeks reddening as I smiled somewhat sheepishly.

"So where are the rest of the meeting attendees?” I asked inquisitively as I glanced around the area we were seated in.

"This meeting is just for you and me, Y/N," Jay said in a sultry tone of voice. "There's something about you, Y/N, that drives me crazy. Ever since you walked into my office, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

I felt the same way about him. He was definitely the most attractive, magnetic, and alluring man I had ever met. I was just too shy to tell him so.

Dinner was absolutely incredible. The food was delicious, and I'd probably had a bit more champagne than I'd actually intended to drink. After a perfect meal, Jay led me back out to the limousine, and we both got into the backseat.

As we talked about our backgrounds, childhoods, and future plans while drinking top shelf champagne, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't even asked him where we were headed. Before I could even form the words to inquire, the limo slowed to a stop.

"Where are we?" I asked, just as the chauffeur opened the door.

“My place,” Jay replied with a grin. “I hope that's okay with you. There's something I want to show you."

Normally, I would have thought twice about going to the home of a man I'd just met, but there was just something about Jay that made him all but irresistible to me.

His house was beyond magnificent. The outside of it took up damned-near an entire city block, and the front yard stretched out around the sides of the house. There was a huge, circular, paved driveway at the front, and the limo had stopped directly in the middle.

I couldn't even imagine what it was he wanted to show me. I felt both excited and anxious simultaneously.

Taking my hand inside his, he proceeded to lead me through his humongous residence, showing me all of the different paintings and other extraordinary decor and informing me of the countries from which they'd been ordered. Finally, we came to this nice, dimly lit room with a beautiful faux fireplace against the rear wall. My eyes widened in amazement as we entered the romantic-looking space hand-in-hand.

"Wowww!" I exclaimed, as I had done several hundred times since we'd first gotten out of the limo. "This room is so..."

“Enchanting? ”Jay stated in a questioning tone, finishing my exclamation for me.

"Yeah! Definitely!” I agreed as I looked around in bewilderment.

There was a bar counter in the far left area of the room and what appeared to be a fully-stocked mini bar behind it. A lavish-looking cream-colored sectional sofa was in the middle of the space, facing the fireplace, and there was a huge matching rug laid out in front of it.

Just as I was about to remove my shoes out of respect for the rug, the lights suddenly dimmed lower, and about a hundred faux candles all lit up simultaneously. Also, smooth, relaxing, slow music immediately began to play. The candlelight appeared to dance to the beat of the music.

I was totally speechless and utterly astonished. I had never seen anything like it before. I glanced over at Jay, who had already removed his own shoes and was filling two wine glasses at the built-in mini bar.

"Please, have a seat, Y/N,” he said amorously, nodding toward the sectional.

I sat down and continued to enjoy the ambiance of the supremely romantic setting until he soon came over to join me and placed a glass of champagne in my hand.

"So? Do you like it?" he asked after taking a sip of his drink.

"Like it? This is absolutely amazing!" I said with a huge grin.

"I'm glad you think so. I've never brought any woman into this room until tonight.

"I find that extremely hard to believe,” I said honestly."

I may be a lot of things, Y/N, but I am definitely not a liar,” he asserted. “Men like me don't have to be in order to get what we want."

“Now that, I absolutely do believe,” I replied with a grin. “So, what is it that you want with me? ”

"Ahh, the billion-dollar question," he said sultrily.

Just then, a very popular song began to play.

"Ohh, I love this song!" he said excitedly as he stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I didn't refuse. He pulled me upward and into his strong arms, and I wrapped mine around his neck. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his as we swayed to the music. Caught up in the moment, I felt like I could stay in his arms like that forever.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away for a moment and looked deep into my eyes.

“Y/N, you have it all. I adore your womanly physique, your stunningly bright brown eyes, and the fact that you are a very intelligent young woman. You are damned-near flawless. From the very first moment you walked into my office, I have had an undeniable, overwhelming attraction to you, and I know you feel it too."

I was completely speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? How do you even reply to a statement like that?

In all honesty, I was just as attracted to him as he was to me, but with him being both my boss and such a wealthy, sophisticated man, I think I felt a little bit intimidated. I'd never imagined myself being wined and dined with a billionaire Adonis like him.

I just kind of stood there, gazing into his tantalizing eyes like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

"Y/N,” he whispered as he suddenly spun me around so that he was behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered back to him as the feeling of his warm breath against the nape of my neck instantly made me moist between my thighs.

I moaned as his soft lips brushed against the lobe of my him,. My body was instantaneously on fire for him and he had barely touched me.

"I want you," he whispered as his manly hands found my breasts and cupped them through the thin fabric of my cocktail dress.

The tips of his fingers found my nipples, causing another moan to escape my mouth. I felt his hand on the back of my neck, and then suddenly, my dress slid carelessly to the floor. I was braless, and this seemed to turn Jay on even more.

He groaned as I felt his manhood begin to stiffen against my ass.

"Y/N, you're fucking perfect,” he said gruffly, his voice raspy against my ear. “I want you. And you want me, too, don't you?

"Yes, Jay, yes," I moaned.

His hands squeezed my breasts, and I sighed loudly, arching my back. I felt his stiffening cock twitch in his pants.

"I'm twenty-eight years old, and I'm not getting any younger, Y/N. I've been looking for the right woman to bear my offspring, and you are the perfect specimen. I know you probably walked into the Park building today with your own plans and aspirations for your career and whatnot, but I have to be honest with you; I want you to bear my children.”

It was a lot to take in. He had certainly said a mouthful. I wasn't so sure about having kids with a man I'd just met, but he was definitely different from any other man I'd ever met, and odds were that I'd probably never meet anyone quite like him again.

His right hand slid down my midsection and into the front of my satin pants. I hissed with delight, biting down on my lip to stifle my cry of pleasure. He was applying just the right amount of pressure to my bud, and I was grinding my crotch against his hand.

"Don't hold back, Y/N,” he ordered in a breathy voice. “Let it all out!”

With that, he slid two fingers inside my dripping-wet pussy. I thrust my hips forward and let out a cry.

“Fuck, your pussy is already so wet for me! ”He declared with a grunt, pressing his erection against my ass.

Just as I was about to climax, he stopped, pulled his fingers out of my pants, and turned me around to face him. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked my excitement out of them. My face flushed with need.

Then he pushed me down onto my knees as he undid his pants, releasing his stiff, throbbing cock. It was large—larger than I'd expected. It was definitely the biggest dick I'd ever seen in my twenty-four years on this earth. But I didn't care. I was going to try my damnedest to swallow it whole.

I caressed the shaft as I slid my tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing it gently, and then sliding it down into my mouth as far as it would go. I sucked it slowly and easily at first, and then I took my hand and used it with the rhythm of my mouth, sucking it as hard and fast as I could.

Groans fell from Jay's lips as he grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth. Then suddenly, he stopped me.

Easing the rest of the way out of his pants, he pulled me up toward him again and kissed me passionately, using his tongue to invade my mouth hungrily. I moaned as he began to trail his lips and tongue down my neck, pausing to lick, suck, and fondle both of my breasts, and then continuing down my belly until he reached the top of my pants.

With his teeth, he worked my pants down over my hips and buttocks, letting them drop to the floor near my dress. He parted my thighs slightly, using his fingers to slide my folds apart and massage my bud. Then, his lips replaced his fingers against my moist, pulsating pussy, and I cried out in sheer passion.

He was so skilled and talented—his tongue was like a fucking vibrating sex toy! He grabbed and squeezed my ass with one hand and used the other to slide two fingers back inside my pussy. I couldn't take it anymore!

"Fucckkk, I'm going to cum, Jay! I'm going to cum...so...fucking..." I couldn't even finish my sentence. His fingers pressed against my g-spot, and his tongue darted fast and hard against my pussy, sending me completely over the edge with the most powerful, intense, earth-shattering orgasm I had ever experienced.

My entire body shuddered and shook, and my legs tensed up. I grabbed his head as my crotch jerked forward uncontrollably against his face.

"Shiiiiittt! Oh fuuuuck!" I screamed loudly, unable to speak any other words.

When my climax finally began to wane, just as I was about to catch my breath, Jay suddenly lifted my legs up on his shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the soft, cream-colored rug lying me down on my back.

Not wasting a second, he slid his huge, hard cock into me slowly, with my legs still hoisted up on his shoulders.

I moaned long and hard as he stretched me to my limit, sliding deeper into my pussy than any other man had ever been.

“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy's so tight and wet! ," he exclaimed, moaning as he began to thrust in and out of me, going deeper with every stroke.

I was moaning so loudly that I could barely even hear the music playing anymore. His own groans became louder and longer with every thrust of his burly hips.

I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck as he started fucking me harder and faster. It wasn't long before I felt a second orgasm building, getting closer and closer...

I still wasn't exactly certain about letting him impregnate me and make me the mother of his children, but the sex was fucking earth-shattering. I had never been fucked so good before! I felt his huge, stiff cock plunging in and out of me as I cried out in delirious pleasure.

Just as I was about to scream out loud, having reached my second powerful orgasm, he let out a loud, long groan, and I knew he was there, too. We were climaxing together simultaneously, and for a brief moment, it was like the two of us became one in our own world of bliss.

I felt his cock spurting his hot cum deep inside of me, filling my pussy to the brim, but it felt so fucking wonderful that I didn't give a shit. Besides, he was rich and handsome and could fuck like a damn machine.

As we finally came back to our senses, Jay kissed my lips as he slid out of me and plopped down on the rug beside me. The fake fire was still going, and the lights and music were still playing.

"That was, by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life,” I said breathily as I looked over at him.

"Me too," he said sultrily as he slid his arm beneath my neck.

With that, his eyes closed, as did mine, and we both drifted off into a satisfied slumber.

Jay and I continued to fuck like rabbits over the next few weeks, having hot, steamy, amazing sex every chance we got. And every time he came, he shot his hot cum deep inside of me.

Three weeks later, my pregnancy test came back positive. Jay was ecstatic, of course. At first, I had mixed emotions. I was going to become a mother. Was I really ready?

He immediately made me quit my job and put me in a beautiful condo with a view that overlooked the entire city. He found me the best doctors in the area and accompanied me to all of my prenatal appointments.

So I wouldn't be able to work for a while. I mean, babies don't stay babies. They eventually grow up into adults who can take care of themselves. Who knows? Once I've raised my kids, perhaps I'll still want to go back into the workforce.

For now, though, I think I'll just enjoy swelling with Jay's seed, growing rounder and riper by the day.

[honeyedmiller]

Checkmate | Joel Miller

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), reader is depicted as shorter than joel but otherwise has no other physical description (picture in mood board is for aesthetic purposes only), mutual pining, making out, smut (thigh riding, brief mentions of f oral receiving, unprotected [bc] piv, slight cockwarming, riding), reader’s best friend’s name is hailey, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

huge thank you to my baby @party-hearses for beta reading this for me. i love you to a million pieces 🖤

a/n: also this is my 900 follower celebration?! i still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people follow me and enjoy what i reblog / write. i love u all so, so much. i also feel kinda bad bc i hyped this one shot up a lot only for the smut to not be that descriptive, but this is more about joel and reader’s feelings than what they essentially do with each other. hope y’all still enjoy it :’)

word count: 4.6k

synopsis: you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.

dividers by the lovely @saradika

You wiped your sweaty brow on your forearm as you lugged a fifth box into your new apartment. You’d finally saved up enough to move out of your parent’s place. Your master’s degree had paid off after all, landing you a job in the heart of Austin, Texas. You were only a thirty minute drive from your parent’s house, which your mom totally loved. She couldn’t wait to help you decorate your place and hand you down the pots and pans that’d been in the family for quite some time. 

The move wasn’t necessarily a tough one, because you were ready to get out of your parents’ hair. You all got along well, but you were dying for your own privacy and space that you could call your own. You couldn’t be happier now that you had it. 

In the midst of the move, your dad insisted he’d phone his best buddy, Joel. You’d only heard about him a handful of times while you were away at college, and in the months you’d been back with your parents, your dad always went over to his house to watch sports or hang out. When the whole family was invited over to his house for barbecues, you always found yourself either already having other plans with your friends, or you were working. Today was finally the day you’d meet the mystery man that is Joel Miller. 

And that’s when you saw him. Tall, broad, ruggedly handsome, body clad in an army green shirt that showcased his biceps and veiny forearms, dark jeans that showed off the muscle of his thick thighs, and scuffed up boots from plenty of days, weeks, hell–months of hard work that added an inch or two to his already towering height. 

He must’ve been in his forties if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was dusted with slight specs of gray, the  scruff on his jawline mirroring the hair on his head. His nose was strong, and was perfectly fitted with his face. He had dark brown eyes that were kind yet held some kind of sternness—a look that made your panties easily dampen. His mustache framed his lips that were pursed into a slight frown, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like all over your body. 

He looked at you just the same, all but hungry eyes roaming your body as he caught a glimpse of you for the first time. Like a damn deer caught in headlights. 

He was your dad’s best friend?

Oh, you were truly, utterly, royally fucked. 

You introduced yourself to him and he shook your hand, the calloused pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin sending a string of butterflies through your stomach. 

You genuinely don’t think you’d ever been this attracted to someone at first glance. 

After he and your dad helped you move all of your stuff into your new place, you’d concluded two things: one, Joel Miller was a man of very few words–at least, around you that is, and two: you were sure he was attracted to you just as you were to him. 

Was it so wrong to want someone a little bit older? Perhaps not. What was wrong was that he’s your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t want someone like that. Someone you were absolutely sure could handle you in the best way possible. 

About a month after you’d finally gotten settled into your apartment, you invited your best friend Hailey over a movie night and a glass of wine. You told her about your predicament, to which she couldn’t help but be the little devil on your shoulder and encourage you to go after Joel. 

“Look, I know he’s your dad’s best friend n’ all, but what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?” She questions, legs tucked underneath her body as her lips curl into a sly grin before she takes another sip of her wine. 

“I mean yeah, but I’ve never done something like this before. An older man, who’s closely acquainted with my dad? I oughta be out of my damn mind.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. 

“Live a little, babe. You’ve been a good kid to your parents your whole life. It’s time you do something for you for once and go after it. Make a subtle move on him next time. That might spice things up a bit.” She suggests, pursing her lips. 

“You’re right. But if I make a move and it backfires, I’m completely fucked and I’m moving to the other side of the country.” You laugh exasperatingly. 

She reaches over to pat your thigh softly. “Only one way to find out.” 

-

You hadn’t seen Joel as of late, but you weren’t phased by it. It’d been a really busy couple of weeks at work, and you were joining your coworkers tonight for a celebratory t.g.i.f. drink. 

Hailey was over at your apartment getting ready with you and you both were already two shots of tequila in. You weren’t much of a drinker, but truth be told, you needed this night out. 

“So I’m either between this dress or this one.” You explain to Hailey, and she studies the options you held up for her to thoroughly inspect. It was either between a black satin mini dress with sparkly straps, or a strapless maroon bodycon dress 

“This one,” She points at the black dress. “With your red kitten heels.” 

You toss the maroon dress onto your bed and take the black one off of the hanger, changing into the dress after Hailey goes to pour herself another shot. You slip aforementioned heels on and give yourself a once over in your full body closet mirror, satisfied with your appearance. 

You wanted to look and feel hot tonight, and it was safe to say you achieved just that. Maybe you’d pick up some hot guy at the bar tonight. He may not be no Mr. Miller, but anyone to take the tension of the past couple of weeks away would suffice. 

You were applying one last layer of lipgloss when Hailey’s knuckles rapped on your door twice, head peeking into your bedroom. 

“Uber’s here. Let’s go get fucked up.” 

You laugh at her enthusiasm, hot on her trail as you locked up and headed down to your Uber. 

The ride was only fifteen minutes before you pulled up to the bar that was already packed. You both slipped inside, spotting your coworkers at a table. They were laughing about something when you and Hailey walked up, and they all cheerily greeted you with hugs. 

It wasn’t long before the DJ was playing some line dancing songs, and multiple people made their way to the dance floor to move their bodies. You and Hailey were the only ones left at the table as you laughed at your coworkers trying to keep up with the beat of the song. 

“Mr. Hottie over there has been checking you out for some time now.” Hailey leaned into you, nudging your side with her elbow as she jutted her head toward a man at the bar. 

You felt your body drained of warmth as you saw none other than Joel Miller standing at the end of the bar, sipping on his beer tentatively. His eyes were locked on you, and the stupid butterflies rumbled around in your stomach once more. 

“Hailey, that’s him.” You say, swallowing thickly. 

“Who?” She gives you a questioning look, the drinks she’s had tonight making her mind a bit fuzzy. 

“My dad’s best friend. That’s Joel.” You say, and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. 

“Oh, girl, if you don’t make your move I’ll force you to make one. He’s a fucking hunk.” 

Your eyes trailed back over to him, taking in his appearance. He switched out the green t-shirt for a gray one, dark wash jeans, and the same boots he wore when he showed up to help you move into your place. 

The way he was looking at you made you want to do extremely sinful things with him. Fuck. Now or never. 

“I’ll be back.” You tell Hailey, and her expression brightens up and cheers you on as you slip off of your seat. 

You saunter over to Joel, drink in hand, and you sip on it through the straw as you approach him. He looks down at you amused, eyes nearly black as he scans you from head to toe. 

“You stalking me now, Mr. Miller?” You tease, leaning up against the bar top. 

Joel scoffs a laugh and sips on his beer once more. “Y’think I don’t have something better to do with my time than to see where you are on a Friday night?” He retorts, but it wasn’t mean. You were sober enough to hear the hint of playfulness in his tone. 

“Mm, not really.” You shrug, feigning an innocent smile up at him. 

So you could be a brat. He bet he could fix that attitude in no time. 

He chuckled at his own thoughts, finishing off his beer as he set the empty bottle down on the sticky bar top. 

“You caught me, darlin’. Any woman as ravishing as you is worth stalkin’.” The slight curl of his lip made you smile. You sipped on your drink some more as you watched the patrons of the bar dancing to the current song. Your eyes avert back up to his gaze, and you step closer to him. 

His eyes move down to your glossy lips wrapped around the straw, wishing so badly that your lips were wrapped around something else right at that moment. 

“What brings you here tonight, Mr. Miller?” You ask, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep. His body goes rigid at your touch, and you fear you’ve gone too far so your hand immediately drops. Joel does a quick scan of the bar before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his sturdy body. 

“My brother’s best friend’s birthday.” He shrugs, and you nod. You felt like a fucking hummingbird with how fast your heart was beating, and you were sure Joel could feel it with the close proximity between the two of you. 

The air became thick and heavy. Your breathing accelerated, looking up at Joel and into his lust-clouded eyes. His grip on your waist tightened in the slightest, and you nearly whimpered as you felt his bulge through the denim fabric of his jeans. 

“Joel.” Your voice was merely a whisper, and he smirked down at you. 

“Care to line dance, darlin’?” He asked nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrowed as disappointment shot through you. Were you reading the situation wrong? 

“I don’t really know how.” You say, setting your now watered-down drink on the counter. 

“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor. He showed you step by step how to move, but your mind was so hazy with lust that you could barely even focus. 

It’d been months since someone touched you in an intimate way, and the burning need and desire was aflame through your body. All you could think about was Joel’s hands and tongue on you as you moaned his name. The thought nearly made you pout. 

“You even listenin’ to me?” Joel pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. He was teasing and holding out on you and he knew it. 

His face held pure amusement as he watched you squirm under his stare uncontrollably, fidgeting like a little kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to stop by. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You sigh, walking back to the table Hailey was waiting at.

“What happened?” She asks, looking behind you at Joel who was burning a hole in the back of your body. 

“No idea. Guess I’m not getting lucky after all.” You shrug with a disappointed huff of a laugh. You looked back to see if Joel was still there, but he seemed to have disappeared. 

You grabbed your purse and made your way to the bar, leaning over it. The back of your dress rode your thighs significantly, barely covering your ass at this point. Before you could get the bartender’s attention again, you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you back and press you into their body. You were about to mouth off on this person before you realized it was Joel. 

“Fuck, c’mon.” His hand slid down to your wrist, gently tugging it. You looked at Hailey as you started to follow Joel and pointed at him discreetly, and she gave you a thumbs up. 

Joel led you out into the cool air of the night, immediately chilling your whole body. Goosebumps raised onto your skin as he led you to his truck, your heels clicking against the unevenly paved asphalt. 

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask as you stop in front of a dark truck. 

“I’m about to give us what we both want.” He said before trapping your body against his truck and between both of his strong arms that landed on either side of you. You cocked an eyebrow up at him, eyes and lips glossy underneath the dim parking lot lights. 

“Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doin’ this.” Joel murmurs before leaning down, smashing his lips with yours. You moan softly into the kiss, carding your fingers into his longer locks. You give the ends a slight tug and he moans into your mouth. You feel the arousal pool in your panties and your untouched core starts to throb. You whine into the kiss, and Joel takes that as an opportunity for his tongue to invade your mouth. 

He tastes like mint now, probably having popped an altoid in his mouth before coming back to get you from the bar. His hands travel downwards and find purchase on your thighs underneath the dress, rubbing circles into your soft skin. He starts to rut his hips into yours, the bulge in his jeans catching onto your clothed clit deliciously. 

“Joel, please.” You choke out as his lips disconnect from yours, hot kisses traveling down your neck and onto your collarbone. 

“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice raspy and muffled as he breathes against your neck. 

“Need you. Fuck, please, just touch me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound to him at this moment. His touch left a trail of flames everywhere his hands landed, and you couldn’t get enough. 

Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the back door of his truck, opening it and helping you slide in. He got in right after you, closing and locking the doors. Your chest was rapidly heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath from the intense moment. 

Joel didn’t give you much leeway, though, because as soon as he spread his legs to get comfy in the backseat, he was pulling you on top of him. You closed the gap between you two this time, rutting your hips forward so your heat sat right on top of his bulging crotch. He groaned lowly, looking down to where your dress had ridden up. He saw your pink lace panties that you had on, and god were you grateful you chose to wear those tonight.

Joel hummed in appreciation as he slid his calloused hands up the smooth skin of your thighs, looking back up to meet your gaze. Your lipgloss was nearly gone off of your lips and onto Joel’s, and he had to admit he liked the sticky cherry flavor. 

“Your daddy would kill me with his bare hands right now if he saw what I was doin’ with his darlin’ daughter.” Joel chuckles, shaking his head. 

“That’s why he won’t find out,” You shrug. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and decide what I want… and what I want is you, Mr. Miller.” 

Joel raises an eyebrow and huffs a small laugh. “That right?” He questions, grip getting slightly tighter on the soft flesh of your thighs. 

“Mhm.” You nod, hand cradling the back of his head. 

“What we’re doin’—this is bad.” Joel chastised, mostly to himself. 

“Relax, Joel. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck through your fingers, applying more pressure onto his groin. He grunts in response, adjusting himself slightly as the confinement of his jeans was nearly torturous at this point. 

“Fine. But we’re endin’ this whole hookin’ up thing if anyone gets even the slightest bit suspicious.” He negotiates, and you nod. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.” 

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, leaning up to capture your lips into his once again. You hum against him, hands moving down to his chest as your nails scratch over the thin fabric of his shirt. 

You start to grind yourself onto him again, and he groans once more before separating his lips from yours to mumble against them. “Use my thigh, baby.” He shifts you onto his left thigh, and you steady yourself on him by gripping his shoulders. 

“I don’t wanna ruin your pants.” You sigh, the pressure of your clothed clit on his thick thigh already providing the tiniest bit of relief. 

“I don’t give a shit about my pants, baby. Soak ‘em for all I care.” He presses his lips to your neck once more, and you shiver at the contact. You’re shy at first, not ever having gotten yourself off on someone’s thigh before. 

Joel senses your hesitation, so he moves his hands back up to your hips and shifts them forward, causing your soaked cunt to glide along his jean-clad thigh. 

You take over yourself, rocking your hips back and forth at a languid pace. Desperate moans are falling out of your mouth as you fist his shirt into your hands, feeling yourself so close already. 

“Joel, feels so-so fucking good.” You whine, head dropping back. Your jaw goes slack and eyebrows thread together, picking the pace of your hips up. 

“Yeah? Such a good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what she needs to get off.” 

“I need you, Joel, please.” 

Joel moved his hands to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans button to take his jeans off in the slightest, finally relieving his erection. You moaned at the sight of his thick cock, pre cum gathered at the tip. You brought your thumb to his slit, gathering the pre cum onto your finger before bringing it up to your mouth to gently suck on it. 

Joel’s jaw ticked, resisting the urge to bend you over the back of his seat and fuck you senseless then and there. Luckily, he had a lot more restraint than he thought, because all he did was just stare at you sucking seductively on your thumb. 

You shifted yourself so you were straddling both of his thighs now, and you grabbed his cock into your hand to give it a few slow tugs. Joel sucked in a breath at your touch, head being thrown back onto the headrest of the seat. You tugged your panties to the side before you ran the tip of his weeping cock through your slick folds, a lewd wetness sounding throughout the cab of the truck. 

You moaned as Joel hissed at the contact. It’d been awhile since Joel had been with someone, so he prayed to whatever god was out there that he’d be able to last. 

“C’mon baby, don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” Joel grunts, fingertips digging into your hips. You look down at him with half lidded eyes as you sank down onto his length without much resistance. 

The stretch was fucking heavenly. Your lips parted as you puffed out a pant and sucked in a breath shortly after, reaching the hilt. 

“So fucking big. Fuck.” You mewl, fingers digging into his shoulders for balance once more. 

“Stay still for a little.” Joel’s voice was strained, sounding nearly pained as he choked out his words. You felt so good wrapped around him that he just wanted to appreciate your warmth. 

Joel slid the sparkly straps of your dress down your shoulders, tugging down the neckline of your dress to reveal your breasts. His tongue darted out of his mouth to briefly wet his lips, large hands moving up to gently squeeze the soft flesh of your chest. 

“So fuckin’ perfect.” Joel whispers, moving his head down to envelope one erect nipple into his mouth while his thumb and index finger toyed with the other. You moved one hand up his chest and to the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the thick locks once more as you pushed his face deeper into your pillowy flesh. 

The feeling of his expert tongue and heavy cock in you was beginning to be too much. You needed him to move, or at least let you move. You weren’t above absolutely begging him until he gave in, but he seemed to have the same idea as his hips thrusted into you. 

You took that as an initiative to move, so you began to slowly glide yourself up and down on him. You sucked in a sharp breath as the feeling of him repeatedly filling you made your legs shake. He took his mouth off of your swollen flesh to avert his gaze to yours, eyes locking as you moved up and down. He moved a hand down to generously rub at your aching clit, causing your cunt to deliciously clench around him. 

“Gonna ruin this tight little pussy. Just you wait.” His voice is throaty and deep, sending shivers down your spine. The dangerous glint in his eye let you know that he was dead serious. 

You wanted Joel Miller to ruin every other man for you. 

That’s how this, the dangerous thing—the game—started. 

You both were determined to win at something that wasn’t even tangible; something so lucrative to both of you that the consequences wouldn’t even fucking matter. 

It didn’t matter as he took over and fucked his hips up into you at a brutal pace, causing you to orgasm violently on his cock within minutes. It didn’t matter when the windows of his truck fogged up and the drag of your fingertips adorned the glass. It didn’t matter when you reassured him he could cum in you because you were on birth control. 

As months went on after that night at the bar, him fucking you up against the wall of his shower or pounding you into your bed or eating your pussy until you physically could not breathe anymore was all that dazed your mind. 

Fuck the consequences. 

None of it fucking mattered. 

Because, over the months, Joel Miller was the kind of man you didn’t mind having in your bed after you two’ve fucked. You didn’t mind when he slept over, or when he wanted to be the little spoon, or when you both went out on dates like a normal couple would. 

The euphoria of it all didn’t last forever, though. You knew it wouldn’t, but the heavy weight and reality of it all came crashing down on you one day when Joel was buried deep into your warm cunt, both of you teetering on the edge of a climax, when your dad came knocking on your front door. Pure panic seized your body and you had to make Joel hide in your closet like a fucking teenager. 

That’s when you realized you both were way in over your head with this whole thing. Getting caught was going to be inevitable if it kept up like this. 

You were eternally grateful that your dad was a man who didn’t hover. He left your apartment after fifteen minutes and when Joel came out from hiding, you told him that it was way too close and it was too risky to keep doing what you both wanted to never put a stop to. You’d silently promised yourself that was the last time with him. 

Joel tried to argue against it, but you put your foot down. That is, until you got slightly buzzed one night and begged Joel to come fuck you. Truthfully, you didn’t even really need the sex from him. It was just a plus. You just enjoyed being around him so much that having him in some way, even if only physically, was to suffice. 

Little did you know, he felt ten times stronger than what you felt. Joel Miller would worship the ground you walked on, if you allowed him to do so. 

He was at your doorstep in no time, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with such neediness as if you’d disappear right beneath his fingertips. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of panties to which Joel discarded immediately. His thick fingers rubbed against your slick heat, hips bucking to meet the languid pace he set. 

Joel shouldn’t be here.

You promised yourself the last time would be the fucking last. 

And yet, you found yourself willingly shoved up against the wall of your living room by none other than the man you swore you’d stay away from as he leaves hot, fervent kisses along the slope of your neck.

“Joel, we—fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this. We have to stop.”

“Yeah? Not what you were sayin’ when you were practically beggin’ me to fuck you again over the phone.” He grits. He sinks his fingers into your aching cunt, prying a strangled moan from your throat.

He’s frustrated with himself. 

Frustrated that he so easily succumbed to you, allowing himself to wrap himself in the greedy need and carnal desire he had for you. Frustrated that you were twenty years younger than him, and frustrated that you should’ve been off limits.

You were supposed to be off limits, god damnit, but Joel Miller was a greedy fucking man. He just had to have you in a way that nobody else could. 

He really didn’t blame your father if he strangled the man  with his own bare hands if he ever found out what you two did behind his back, in secret, and for months at that. 

Joel knew better. 

He fucking knew better and still decided to get a taste, get a feel, fuck you like no other man had. Something his greed deliciously sunk its teeth into, allowing himself to indulge in the forbidden realm you offered to give him. 

You knew better, too. But you did get one thing you wanted, after all. 

You’d be a fucking liar if you didn’t admit that Joel Miller had officially ruined every other man for you. 

The dangers of the game had sunk its teeth so deep into both of you. It was like the world’s most impossible chess match, and one of you was finally waiting for the other to say “checkmate.” 

 The thing is, Joel lost a long while ago. 

He fucking lost the game. 

He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried, and when you called him begging him to fuck you tonight, his need for you practically drowned him in his weakness. 

Joel Miller was not a weak man. You had him under a fucking spell that he couldn’t seem to reverse. 

It’s like you were his fucking kryptonite. 

He was the one that royally fucked in the end. 

Joel wished he didn’t have these feelings that clawed at his fucking rib cage every time he glanced at you, some sort of animalistic creature trying to escape when you were under him, legs spread wide, your warmth wrapped around his cock as he buried himself in you.

Every single time he had you like that, had his lips on you, had you moaning his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings, saw your sweet smile, smelled your perfume that he loved so much, heard your contagious laugh, he knew he lost.

Checkmate. 

tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @holesandlividity ; @planet-marz1 ; @joelmillers-whore ; @cool-iguana ; @janaispunk ; @freakygothgirl ; @survivingandenduring ; @clawdee ; @danaispunk ; @kiwisbell ; @untamedheart81

[sprout-fics]

Suicide mention tw

Yesterday was my survivor anniversary. This time last year I drove up into the mountains, took a long hike, and tried to kill myself. I didn't want to die so much as I couldn't stand living any longer. I had been so full of sadness and stress and dark emotions that I couldn't bear it for another day.

I had convinced myself I was a terrible, awful, rotten person to the core and that I didn't deserve to be here. I convinced myself over the course of months that I didn't deserve friends or loved ones, that the world would be a better place without me- that I'd be sparing the people I cared about by leaving them rather than have them deal with me.

The only thing that saved me was that in my haste to leave that day, I had grabbed the wrong medication I intended to OD with. So instead, I lay down for a bit, sat and stared into the woods, and thought about what it would mean to be happy.

Somehow, I'm still here.

It's been a rough year. I've struggled with my mental health, with finances, with employment and relationships, with family and with myself. It's taken so much effort to get to where I am, and even then I feel like some days it doesn't account for much. I'm still living with my parents, my finances are still in rough shape with my student debt, I've yet to get my first paycheck, and I've lost some very dear and cherished friendships in the past year.

But in the course of all of that, I've also done some pretty amazing stuff. I got my masters degree in Foreign Policy, I got a job offer that pays decently within my field, my position comes with training that will be invaluable to my career, I got surgery for my endometriosis which has resulted in a massive improvement of my chronic pain, and I managed to get a car with the help of family. I've paid off my credit debt in part thanks to commissions from some of my followers, and I've made new friends who I adore talking to. More than that I've learned a lot about myself in the past year.

I'm happier than I was before. I don't cry as much. I've worked to understand the reasons behind some of my behaviors and I have worked to address them in therapy so I can handle my emotions better. I listen better when people tell me things I need to hear, and I try to manage my self reflection with serenity instead of the spiral of self doubt. I've gotten a bit better at recognizing when I'm burnt out, and recognizing people I do and don't want in my life. I've learned to care about myself like I would care for a friend.

Yesterday I spent time laughing with friends, singing at the top of my lungs to my favorite songs in the car, and talking about all the things I want to write in the future- because I have a future. I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but at some point in the past year I looked up, and I realized I wasn't so sad anymore.

All of this to say- here's to another year, and a year after that, and many many more to come.

[its-time-to-write]

Hi! Could You write a Jamie x Kent!reader? Like roy finds out when phoebe recognizes Jamie in a cute way,and he loses his mind on reader and Jamie,but phoebe saves the day? Thanks and best wishes✨

Got it! Here ya go! Thank you for requesting 💙

take your time while you’re mine

Roy is your brother. Molly is your sister. Phoebe is your niece. You’re a Kent, and (in your opinion) you’re the worst one. Roy’s all about football and coaching and being grumpy, Molly is a badass doctor/mom, and Phoebe is, well, Phoebe. She’s way cooler than any of you, and she’s only eight. 

You feel like you’ve been clawing and scratching your way to the top ever since you were younger, trailing after Roy and Molly.

You forged your own path, acquiring university degrees like it was your job. You let work consume you, traversing the world in a journey of self-discovery until Molly called you one day, with the news that Phoebe’s dad was gone for good. She didn’t ask, but you answered anyway. You dropped everything and flew back to London.

You’ve been around ever since, changing diapers, taking Phoebe to school, going to Roy’s football matches. You’d settled into your own skin a little more, and although it wasn’t a path you chose, it was a path you loved.

Your favorite was hanging around after matches, waiting for Roy to drive you home. You got to talk to his teammates and joke around with them about Roy’s gruff demeanor. There was only one you didn’t like. Jamie Tartt.

You’d have to agree with Roy’s assessment of this one, although Molly banned all talk of Jamie in the house. All it would take is for one of you to start and then you and Roy would just go at it, about how he was a little prick and far too self-righteous and how his stupid, awful hair was nothing compared to his stupid, awful face.

You were glad when he was kicked off the team.

You were upset when he came back.

But, he started hanging around.

His hair was less stupid and his face was less prick-ish, especially when he was cracking dumb jokes to make you laugh.

He’d talk to you while you waited for Roy, then slip away as soon as he appeared.

Jamie-talk was less banned around the house now, but you still didn’t engage. Roy didn’t notice but Molly did, because she cornered you on one of her rare days off to ask you about it.

“You like Jamie,” she states, as you were elbow-deep in dishes.

You look at her, alarmed. “What? No, I don’t. He’s a prick.”

Molly raises an eyebrow (a family trait Phoebe has not yet mastered). “Then why don’t you talk about him?”

You shrug as best you can without flinging soap. “Like I said, he’s a prick. And you were the one who said we couldn’t talk about him.”

Molly returns your shrug. “That was because you both were feeding off each other’s nasty energy. Didn’t want it around Phoebe. But Roy obviously doesn’t hate him anymore, and you’re clearly head-over-heels for him.”

The plate you’re scrubbing slips from your grasp, splashing both you and Molly.

“What makes you say that?” you ask, as casually as possible.

Molly laughs. “Not sure if you’ve forgotten, but I am your older sister. I know more about you than you know about yourself.”

“Fine,” you say, dropping a fork back into the water. “He asked me out two days ago and I said yes because I do like him, but I don’t want Roy finding out, so you’d better not tell him!”

Molly grins. “Fuckin’ knew it. My lips are sealed.” 

—

You’re successfully sneaking around Roy for one month, when the shoe drops. You and Jamie had been taking Phoebe out about once a week when you were positive Roy was either out of town or “getting his old-man rest,” as you like to call it. Seriously, that man could sleep an entire weekend away. 

This time, he and Molly have something at Phoebe’s school. She insisted he come because, quote, “I’m not braving those crazy mums by myself, and you’re scary enough to keep them away.”

Roy says yes, obviously, because he’d do anything for Molly. You would too, which is why you, Phoebe, and Jamie are strolling around Richmond, and why she and Jamie are trying to convince you of their need for ice cream sandwiches. 

“Pheebs, we literally just had ice cream cones. Why do you need an ice cream sandwich?”

“Because it’s lunch time.” The duh in her voice is heavily implied. 

“And, babe, you have sandwiches at lunch,” Jamie adds. 

“It’s a totally different food group,” Phoebe agrees. 

You roll your eyes. “Babes, Moll will absolutely kill me if I let you. No way.”

You’re saved from their rebuttal by a voice saying, “What the fuck is Tartt doing here?”

The three of you jump, startled, and you and Jamie unclasp hands. You turn to see a frowning Roy. 

“Roy!” you say, unconvincing smile on your face, “I thought you were at Phoebe’s school. Where’s Molls?”

Roy’s glare never leaves Jamie’s face. “We left early. Now answer the fucking question.”

 You can see Phoebe starting her mental tab of Roy’s swear words. Of all the times not to have her notebook handy. 

She knows neither you nor Jamie are going to be able to come up with a coherent response so she says, “Uncle Jamie picked us up to get ice cream.”

This registers with Roy, possibly a little too well, because he steps closer to Jamie and growls, “Hang on. Why the fuck does she call you ‘Uncle Jamie?’”

Jamie shrugs, grateful for any moment he’s still breathing. “Dunno. For me lovable personality?”

“No,” says Phoebe, “it’s because you’re dating my aunt so that makes you my uncle!”

Roy turns on Jamie. “You’re fucking what?”

Jamie holds up his hands. “In my defense, I wanted to tell ya. She thought you’d be mad.” He points at you.

“Was I wrong?” you ask, arms crossed, “Or is this another thing you’re going to be overprotective about?”

You can see Roy’s self-control working overtime as he tries to figure out a response that is going to a) not make you mad b) irritate Jamie and c) be appropriate for Phoebe’s ears. He finally settles on a strained, “Great,” and you smile.

“I love Uncle Jamie,” Phoebe says, fully aware of everything Roy is thinking. “He buys me ice cream and makes us laugh.”

Roy gives you a look that says, we’re fucking talking about this later and you pretend not to see it. You feel for Jamie. You have a feeling that 4am practices are about to get a lot more hellish. 

At least you won’t be alone for Roy’s interrogation. You know he’s going to lose his fucking mind when he hears Molly knew this whole time. 

You don’t worry about it yet, though. Right now you just listen to Jamie and Phoebe swear to Roy they haven’t had the chance to get their ice creams yet, and maybe he should take them because it’s getting close to lunch time and they’re quite hungry?

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day One: Long Distance Surprise @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist // AO3

Notes: drabbly and quick (poor edits), most of my energy went into different prompts, haha. But I wanted to write for as many as I could this year!

Warnings: none, ~1k words

.*.*.*.*.

Thinking of You

A chill clung to the air as Aelin stepped from the English Department building.  It was late and cold and all she wanted to do was go home and change into her pajamas and not have any type of responsibility until next week.  Unfortunately for her, she was in Grad School and taking a break didn’t exist in her routine functions. In fact, she probably wouldn't know what a break was until she was graduated with a degree in hand.

Adjusting the strap of her backpack, she took off for the other side of campus.  If she kept a quick pace, she could be safe inside her apartment in under half an hour. She didn’t live too far from the school, something she’d insisted upon when moving to Adarlan.  While she refused student housing, she still wanted to be close for events, classes, and her internship.  Thankfully, she’d gotten all her wishes.  Well, all except one.

When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she fumbled for it.  She caught it on the third ring, pressing the screen to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Fireheart.” Rowan’s voice was a balm to her soul, washing over her with warmth and affection.

“Hi,” she said again, trying to fight off the emotion that burst in her chest just by hearing his voice.

“Are you back at your house yet?” Rowan asked.

He always called her around this time, knowing it was when she got out of her last workshop of the day and was leaving campus.  He always said it was a coincidence but Aelin suspected he didn’t like her walking alone and in silence.

“No, just left,” she sighed. “Things ran long.”

More words threatened to spill out, but Aelin bit them back.  It wasn’t worth bringing it all out now.  She ducked down a path that cut between the administration offices and south parking lot.  The path was lined with maple trees, their canopies hanging low with gold and yellow leaves.  It would only take another sudden drop in temperature before all the leaves would fall away leaving behind bare and empty branches.

“How was your day?” she asked, hoping to push any attention away from her. “Did you get funding for your project?”

Rowan, over a thousand miles away, had accepted a prestigious job at a museum in Terrasen.  With his degree in Ancient Slavic History and Languages, he was invaluable to his team.  He was working towards his own master’s degree with this internship. Which meant different schools.  It was remarkable what he’d been working on over the last few months.  And even though she missed him more and more each day they were apart, she as insanely proud of him.

“Yeah, I did,” he said.  Aelin could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re going to be able to work on a new display with access to those journals from Germany I was telling you about?”

Aelin couldn’t help her own smile as she listened to him talk about his project.  It always sparked warmth in her chest to hear him talk about his passions.  It was a comfort to, just hearing his voice.

They’d met on their first day of undergrad classes in a biology course.  Despite their names being on opposite ends of the alphabet, they’d been partnered together through the entire semester.  It had gone horribly from day one.  They hadn’t gotten along, in fact, all their lab assignments ended in an argument and a threat from the TA to flunk them both.  Why they weren’t separated, Aelin would never know, but she was grateful for in nonetheless. 

Somehow in the chaos of it all, they’d become friends.  And then more.

“Aelin?” Rowan’s gentle prodded broke her from her revere.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she said.

She made it to the main road, streetlamps bright as day.  This side of campus was always well lit, even as it neared ten.

“You sure you’re alright, Fireheart?” Rowan asked. “I know the start of a new semester is hard.”

“Yeah,” she said again, “yeah, I’m fine.”

She tried to lighten her voice and stay upbeat, she didn’t want him to worry.  Rowan already had enough to worry about.

“Aelin.”  Rowan shifted on the other side of the phone and Aelin heard a door shut and what sounded like a beer opening. “I know you.”

Aelin blinked back the tears that started burning behind her eyes.  She would not cry.  She hurried through the courtyard of her apartment complex, cutting a direct line to her apartment.

“Hold on, I’m almost to my door,” she said.  She really just wanted a second to collect herself, especially while on the phone with Rowan.

“Good,” Rowan said, “there should be something waiting for you.”

“What?” 

His words didn’t register until she was hurrying up the stairs that led to her door.  As soon as she reached the landing she found a large box waiting on her welcoming mat.

“What did you do?” she asked.  She unlocked her door, pushing it open so she could toss her bag in. “Hang on, I need two hands.”

After dropping her phone on the couch, she returned back outside to grab the box.  She carried it to the kitchen before returning for her phone.

“Buzzard, what did you do?” Aelin pressed again.  She put the call on speaker so she could open the box a little less chaotically with a pair of scissors.

“I thought you could use a pick-me-up,” Rowan said.

The box wasn’t a simple little thing either.  Aelin started pulling things out—fuzzy socks, candles, bath salts, and chocolate.  So much chocolate.  In fact, most of the box was chocolate.

This time, Aelin couldn’t hold back the tears. Hot tracks rolled down her cheeks as she stared at the items now laid out across her counter.  It had been ages since anyone had done something like this for her since she’d felt loved.

“Ro—” she began.

“I wanted to come down myself but we got the approval—”

“Rowan,” she chuckled, shaking her head as she lifted the phone closer to her mouth. “I know.”

She sniffed, wiping her nose on the collar of her shirt.  Dealing with emotions had never been her strong suit.  It had taken nearly a year to tell Rowan she loved him for hells sake. 

“I know you won’t listen, but try not to eat all that chocolate tonight, yeah?” he said.

“Ha-ha,” Aelin mocked.  She rolled her eyes and cracked open the hazelnut truffles. “I make no promises.”

Rowan let out a laugh. “Hmm.  You going to tell me how your day really went?”

“No,” she said. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

And it didn’t.  because now at least, she could talk to him.  She could listen to him ramble on about whatever new quirk he’d learned in his studies.  She could listen to his steady breathing.  She could simply spend a few minutes with him. 

It wasn’t until she was drifting off to sleep with the phone tucked between her ear and her pillow that they finally disconnected, Aelin whispering a soft I love you and Rowan promising to see her soon.

She hated this routine of theirs but soon…soon they’d be reunited.

[come-away-with-me87]

The Art of Love Chapter 1

******

Summary: You've been an art therapy teacher at an elementary school in Musutafu, Japan for the past eight years. One day, you are introduced to a new student named Eri, who comes with a lot of past trauma. While you help Eri move past her trauma through art therapy, you end up getting to know her caretaker, Shouta Aizawa, who ends up slowly opening up your heart back up after your own past trauma. Could Shouta be the person to fully open your heart back up, and possibly even fall in love?

******

Pairings: Shouta Aizawa | Eraserhead x Fem!Reader

******

Warnings: There will be fluff, there will be angst, there will be smut. Any chapters containing smut will have a NSFW disclaimer at the beginning of the chapter. And please bear with me if anything I say about art therapy is incorrect throughout the story; I promise it's only due to my own lack of knowledge on the subject. I have nothing but the utmost respect for the profession and the folks who work in it <3 Oh, and yes, before anyone asks, Kento is most certainly based on the other LOML, Kento Nanami from JJK. I have no shame.

******

(Concise) Definition of Art Therapy:

Art Therapy is an integrative mental health and human services profession that enriches the lives of individuals, families, and communities through active art-making, creative process, applied psychological theory, and human experience within a psychotherapeutic relationship.

Art Therapy, facilitated by a professional art therapist, effectively supports personal and relational treatment goals as well as community concerns. Art Therapy is used to improve cognitive and sensory-motor functions, foster self-esteem and self-awareness, cultivate emotional resilience, promote insight, enhance social skills, reduce and resolve conflicts and distress, and advance societal and ecological change.

- The American Art Therapy Association

******

You have been an art therapy teacher for elementary-age students for the past eight years, and you loved every moment of it. You genuinely loved enriching the lives of young minds through art therapy; it was your truest passion in life. Since you were born Quirkless, you always wanted to do something good with your life since you couldn't be a pro-hero. At a young age, you learned that you loved drawing and painting, and you were very good at it.

You continued to love art as you got older, and when you graduated high school, you went to college where you got your Masters degree in Education, with your major being in Fine Arts. It took you over a year to find a job, which was a grueling time for you. Art therapy teacher gigs were pretty difficult to come by. You had to move back in with your parents, where you worked dead-end jobs just so you could begin paying your student loans back.

A little over a year later, you saw a job posting for an art therapy teacher at Musutafu Elementary School, an opportunity you jumped at. You always wanted to work with children, specifically, and thought this could be it. You went through many rounds of interviews to make sure you were the right fit, and eventually, you got the job. And that is where you have been for the past eight years.

Over the course of those eight years, you went through many changes in your life. You remained at your parents' home for about a year after you graduated so you could save money between the job at the school and your part-time job working as a server at a fine dining establishment. Eventually, you saved up enough money to put a down payment on your dream home right in Musutafu.

It was also around that time that you started dating Kento, who you eventually fell in love with. Kento was tall and was very handsome with his sandy blonde hair and warm brown eyes. Most importantly, though; he was good to you. It was quite easy to fall in love with him. After two years of dating, he got down on one knee and proposed to you, to which you happily said yes. Things were good: you had your dream job, your dream house, and your dream man. You were happy.

A month before your wedding, Kento was walking home from work when he got caught in the middle of a villain attack. He got stabbed by a villain just before the pro-heroes arrived on the scene. He was rushed to the hospital, where they did everything they could to try and save him, but sadly, he lost his life. To say you were heartbroken and devastated would be an understatement; you just lost the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. At his funeral, you decided right then and there to close your heart off to relationships; no one would ever compare to Kento.

After taking a month-long leave of absence from both the school and the restaurant, you decided that you needed to get back to work. You still mourned for Kento, but you knew him well enough to know that he would want you to get back to work and help your students. You quit your restaurant job, and focused your entire life on teaching and helping your students, where you still remain to this day, several years later.

Today, you were getting a new student. Her file said that her name was Eri; odd, she had no last name. Her file also stated that she has been through extremely traumatic events for the majority of her life. You teared up reading her file. For a seven-year old girl's life to be nothing but traumatic was heartbreaking. You were already looking forward to being of help in the healing process of young Eri.

******

To be continued...

******

Tag list: @lili-pond ; @jaguarthecat ; @big-denki-energy

[uwupaige]

the nanny [paige bueckers] part three

[chapters 4 & 5]

the nanny master list!

chapter four: basic psychology shit.

warning: annoying filler chapter :/ chapter 5 is cute though🩷

catherine's phone buzzed as she anxiously dialed in the number of her best friend, desperate to tell someone, anyone, of her amazing news.

the dialing tone rang in her ears for a few moments. soon, it clicked, the girls phone speaker being filled with molly's voice as she casually greeted catherine, "hey, girl."

"ahh!" catherine squealed excitedly into the speaker of her phone, which was resting between her cheek and the palm of her hand as she walked down the corridor of paige's condo building. her free hand rummaged through her dark brown purse in search of her car keys, almost unaware of her volume.

"woah, someone's cheery." molly laughed into her cellphone. she was about to ask what the girl was so excited about, but ended up cutting herself off from her own gasp. "wait. did you get the position?"

"i got the position!" catherine confirmed, another squeal to follow as she did a small jump, finally making her way to the buildings exit.

now it was molly's turn to squeal. "that's my girl!" she screamed enthusiastically.

catherine sighed as she finally took much needed deep breaths. "i'm actually so excited, i might splurge."

"oh yeah? how so?" molly asked her best friend curiously, although she felt like she already knew the answer.

finding her car fairly quickly, catherine clicked the top button on her keys twice, unlocking the deep red car. "imma get fast food." she spoke, proudly.

molly laughed out loud at her best friend's snobby plans. catherine always sounded like a gym rat whenever she spoke those words. "ohh, that's, like, unheard of."

"eating out all the time is the easiest way to go broke." catherine reminds the girl on the other end of the line. molly joined at the end of her statement, being one she's heard too many times before, and just laughing at her best friend, ultimately proud of her.

walking the woman out of her spacious condo, paige continues their conversation from moments prior.

"so yeah, how soon can you start?"

catherine spun on her heels slightly to meet paige's eyes, a wide grin playing on her deep mauve lips as she excitedly told the woman, "i can start as soon as next week."

it had been almost a week since their interview at the breakfast spot, and she had been formally offered the job. catherine couldn't be more happy or relieved. she decided to not quit vynil completely, but she wouldn't have to work there every night like she had gotten used to. for the first time since she started school, she can really focus on it.

"okay, cool," paige smiled at the woman, hand resting on her black painted front door as she leaned comfortably on the door frame. "i'll uh, see you monday?"

flashing paige one more smile before her departure, catherine nods, "bright and early."

and she was there, a little bright and extremely early, that late september monday morning. catherine would be lying if she said she wasn't extremely nervous. there was some sort of comfortable awkwardness between her and paige. sometimes they could hold a great conversation, but then it'd die down and it would be.. awkward? catherine was sure it was unlike any employee-boss relationship she'd ever had in her many previous jobs.

whatever. at least madison liked her. madison totally thought of catherine as a friend of paige's just watching her. which was true to a degree. though, catherine wasn't sure how much of friends they were.

ringing the doorbell to paige's residence, it was opened moments later by a tired looking blonde. "aye, w'sup." paige greeted the girl, quite enthusiastically for looking so tired, leaning against her black doorframe once again.

"good morning," catherine responds, soon hearing the loud crash of a toy falling behind paige, catherine peering over her shoulder slightly to reveal madison playing happily and unbothered in the spacious living room. "oh—someone's up." she jokes.

paige just sighs, nodding with a slight eye roll. "since 5:30." she informs as catherine walks in, paige offering to take her purse from her shoulder and placing it on the dark, granite kitchen counter. "and now," paige starts after closing the front door, speaking loudly so madison could hear her. "it's time for madison to get ready for school."

the curly headed girl looked up from her spot on the living room floor, a pout immediately finding her lips as she begins to throw a fit. "but i don't wanna!"

"madison, i'm not gonna tell you again." paige spoke, exhaustion in her words. catherine could tell this had been an all morning battle. "can you please pick up your toys and get ready for school. i picked out something pre—"

cutting off her mom, the little girl cried loudly, her tantrum taking over as she began to flail her arms every which way. "no!"

"bruh," paige muttered to both herself and the girl standing besides her, not expecting to look over at her with an amused smile as a replacement for her previously cheery one.

catherine moved closer to the distraught girl, getting down on her level, taking a seat on the floor in front of her. "hey, madison," catherine tried gently. madison didn't stop, continuing on with her tantrum, whining about wanting to play longer. "if you help me pick up your toys as fast as you can, you can pick out anything to wear to school today." madison's cries became slower and she nodded sadly at the girl. "can you do that for me?"

"yeah." the girl sniffled, her voice strained from the cries, wiping away almost non existent tears.

"thanks. i'll help you." catherine smiled. she grabbed a few of the miscellaneous toys, putting them where she assumed was her designated toy basket.

once done, madison was happily jogging off to her room to pick out a princess dress to wear, seemingly forgetting about the tantrum moments prior. she was just excited she got to wear another princess dress.

"that's crazy," paige comments as catherine pushed madison's basket of toys to the corner of the room in its respective spot. "how did you do that?"

"get her to pick up her toys?" catherine asks, amused paige was curious herself.

catherine's eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion, another question prompting her mind. "aren't you majoring in human development?"

"..and family sciences."

"oh, c'mon paige. that's like some basic, intro to psychology shit." catherine explained, paige looking at her expectantly. "positive reinforcement..?" still no answer to her statements, catherine scoffs out a laugh, "paige."

"you try taking what you learned in college and applying it to your children." the blonde joked rhetorically and half offendedly, knowing catherine can't exactly do that. this just made the girl laugh.

it was moments like these that catherine could be down with. they kind of felt like friends, everything was extremely laid back. but not at the same time? it was weird. and now was when the part the awkward settled in.

before the suffocating tension could grow any thicker, catherine excused herself from the room, en route to madison's.

"any good choices?" catherine peered her head into the girls room, another mess of toys taking over, something she made a mental note of.

the little girl turned to catherine, one light purple dress in one hand, and a yellow one in the other. "rapunzel or belle?"

catherine could already tell this girl loved her fashion. walking into the messy room fully, she sat on madison's small and unmade bed. "mm.. i choose rapunzel?"

madison nodded proudly at the girls choice, agreeing entirely. "me same."

before leaving for the school day, catherine made it a mission to do the little girls hair. and promised to do something more than just the buns paige would do. as the little girl spoke about any and everything, she sat comfortably in her bathroom sink like she normally did, catherine just finishing up the dual pigtails in the girls hair as she looped each one around her finger to give it some bounce.

paige peered her head through the bathroom door, going to say a quick goodbye before she was off to a full day of studying and basketball. she gasps at her daughter in the mirror with a wide smile, "woah, you look so pretty babe." she complimented, her tone higher than usual, earning her daughters giggling. then turning her attention to catherine, she did a quick run through the rest of the day's schedule, how pick up and drop off looked, et cetera. "and, i left a key next to your purse for you... uh, am i missing anything?" she asks after a pause.

catherine simply just shook her head, hands still working magic on madison's head, "i don't think so."

"alright," paige says before saying her goodbye, catherine moving out of the way so paige could place a quick kiss to her daughters head before she left.

˚✧.*

unbuckling the little girl from the booster seat, provided by paige moments before she left, catherine walked hand in hand with madison to her kindergarten classroom. walking in, catherine noticed the nothing but cheery energy radiating from the room. the walls were all white, but almost none of it was visible due to the amounts of bulletin boards covered in student drawings and wall decor. after a few moments of taking in the room, the little girls teacher, an older woman in her 50s, greets the pair.

"oh! you're not mom." the woman joked enthusiastically, catherine giving her a polite chuckle.

"hi, i'm catherine. little one's nanny." she explained as she stuck out her hand, the teacher nodding understandingly with a smile.

accepting catherine's hand shake, the older woman began to speak, "i'm mrs. chase. it is very lovely to meet you!" this woman was as sweet as pure sugar. it'd be obvious to anyone who met her that she was a kindergarten teacher. "i'd love to show you around the classroom—oh, that is if you have time."

catherine nods, brows perched up as a, "yeah, yeah, for sure!" left her plump lips.

mrs. chase allowed madison to walk catherine to her designated seat in the classroom, walking away momentarily as madison excitedly showed catherine her desk. it was apart of a group of 4 desks all pushed together, none of them occupied by other children yet.

"here is this," mrs. chase spoke upon her re-arrival, handing a sheet of paper to catherine. the top of the paper wrote 'important dates.' "this is our class schedule, and it has every important date on there. classroom parties, field trips, half days, et cetera." the woman went on to explain, "and we do hope to see parents and caregivers to participate."

catherine nods, not knowing how to disagree with this lovely lady to any degree. "absolutely."

soon, it was time to say their goodbyes, catherine crouching down next to madison. "you're gonna have a good day." she tells the girl.

"isn't it just 'have a good day'?" madison questions, catherine shrugging, a slight head shake to follow.

"i'm telling you to have a good day. so it's much more effective." she explains loosely, madison just shrugging.

"okay. you're going to have a good day too, cat."

"yes i am." catherine agrees with a cheeky smile, wanting to absolutely squeeze the girl for being so undeniably adorable. however, she opted for a simple high five for starters. madison soon ran off to find an empty center of toys and activities to play at.

as catherine stood up from her crouched position, mrs. chase began her next conversation, "you're great with her." the older woman spoke up from behind her. catherine turned to face the woman, confusion on her face. how did she make that assumption based off of one interaction? "madison doesn't normally speak. not to any of her classmates, and barely to me."

"really?" catherine asked, having gotten to know madison as nothing but a yapper. "that's interesting."

"how so?"

"all she does is talk my ear off. way more than a lot of 5 year olds i've worked with." the girl explained further.

mrs. chase nodded at that, impressed. "i didn't know madison would be quite the talker.. well, it is only her third week here. hopefully she'll acclimate soon."

catherine smiles, nodding in agreement, "she will." she'd make it her mission.

˚✧.*

walking on to the large basketball court, shoes in hand, paige found an empty spot next to her teammates. they had all been talking about nonsense for some time time, waiting for their designated practice time to start. as paige pulled on her shoes, tying them with ease, an excited nika sat next to the girl. the pair had been friends for years now, and had gotten extremely close this current season.

"so," the brunette began with much excitement, "when do we get to meet this daughter of yours?"

paige stopped in her tracks, along with everyone else. paige turned to nika discreetly, shooting her a look. immediately, the girl's hand came up to cover her face in embarrassment. "no one knew, huh?" she says lowly to paige. the blonde just simply shook her head in agreement, closing her eyes, waiting for the first initial reactions.

"daughter?" paige heard the conflicting sounds of two of her teammates, ice and aubrey, asking in unison. they all had so many questions. why didn't she tell them? how old was this daughter? and, seriously, why didn't she tell them?

"whose daughter?"

in that moment, their coach, geno, came walking into the gym, the assistant coaches not far behind him. he instantly noticed the tense interaction between his players, quick to jump in.

"paige's."

geno looked between all of them, slightly confused. "you all didn't know about that?"

a gasp erupted from the group, "nah, not you telling coach before us." this emitted laughter from everyone, as they all began to circle around paige.

"girl, why didn't you tell us?" ice asks, seriously and concerned.

paige shrugged, still avoiding eye contact for as long as she could, now twiddling with her thumbs. "i'on know." her words low and sheepish. "didn't wanna be judged, i guess."

again, the group of women react like they're even more offend. they all had no problem sharing how much they didn't appreciate being thought as ones to judge their friends.

"it's easy to be judged by outsiders, but you guys are like my family." paige confides in them, finally looking up from her embarrassed stance, "i didn't want to change anything, y'know?"

a concerned looking aaliyah came up to the blonde, "we wouldn't judge you, p." that statement was soon followed with each of the woman sharing their support with a sweet and simple 'yeah'.

paige wanted to tear up at the support her friends—no, her family—had given her. they couldn't even begin to understand how much she had been needing it. but before she could grow too sappy, they all grew extremely excited, going on and on about how they were so excited to have a 'team daughter.'

"okay so boom, now that we all know, GUESS who madison's nanny is." kk spoke over the loud group, instantly grabbing their attention at the gossip she was about to spill.

azzi couldn't wait for them to actually guess, spilling the news almost seconds later, "you know the bartender from a couple weeks ago, the one paige kept saying was hot—her!"

no one was expecting that answer, all wanting to know how that even happened, but mainly wanting to tease paige endlessly for her near impossible circumstances. "alright, alright, chill." paige laughed at their teasing, being shoved jokingly from every angle and every one, "not too much on me now."

"mhm, and you all have drills to run." geno interrupted, blowing his whistle soon after.

˚✧.*

chapter five: you cooked?

a long few weeks have passed since catherine became an everyday person in paige and madison's lives, and their transition into the new routine was definitely one to get used to.

especially with there only being so many weeks until basketball season officially started. paige was busier than normal. if she wasn't in class, she was in the gym. and if she wasn't there, she was rushing home to hang out with her daughter before her inevitable bedtime.

"madison! get back here!"

catherine called loudly for the small girl throughout the apartment, last hearing her small but heavy footsteps and loose giggles down the hall.

soon, she found the girl hiding behind her soft purple shower curtains, sunken in the corner of the white bathtub like it would hide her better.

picking her up, despite her kicking and whining, she finally brought the girl to her bed, allowing her to choose which story she wanted to hear. catherine's soothing voice told the story as excitingly calm as she could, her voice lulling the little girl to sleep.

watching her eyelids starts to flutter slowly, indicating she was fighting sleep, but falling asleep nonetheless. catherine's voice fell off slowly and carefully, standing up cautiously from her crouched position next to the girls white bed. as she started to tip toe to her door, reaching for the light switch, in came a loud and unaware paige, peering her head through the door.

"she sleeping?"

catherine's eyes widened at paige, blinking profusely and annoyed, peering over her shoulder to find the once asleep girl awake, her eyes fluttering open. "hi, paigey."

paige grimaced, looking at catherine, her eye twitching. the blonde stammered out an apologetic, "sorry."

catherine unlocked the front door to the bueckers condo. the same tall, black door she's opened many times now. turning the handle, she pushed it open to be greeted with a multitude of toys scattered on the living room floor. several dolls and their pink and purple accessories decorated the carpet distastefully. sighing a little, the brunette wiggled her copy of the key out of the lock, calling out for the little girl who created the mess. "madison?"

once the door closed behind her, she heard the loud pitter-patter's of little feet echoing down the hall, revealing a small girl with messy, brown curls running in to greet the taller woman. grabbing catherine's jean covered leg excitedly, clinging tightly, madison smiled up at the girl. "cat!"

"hi, mamita. good morning." catherine grins down at the girl, a hand reaching down to rub her back comforting. however, only a few moments passed before she needed to drop the besties act, taking on her more nanny-like role. "can you tell me what's wrong with the living room?"

madison's head peered behind her momentarily, looking back at catherine with a playful smile. sheepishly, she answers, "i didn't clean up my barbie's."

catherine nodded proudly, tucking a piece of loose hair out of her face. "can you do me a favor?" she asks, her kid friendly tone making madison's ears peek at this, eliciting a nod from her. "can you be a big helper and make the living room look like how your mom had it this morning?"

madison jumped at the idea to be a helper, nodding again, enthusiastically this time.

catherine's discipline with the girl became stronger by the day, madison developing a level of respect for her. she started understanding catherine to be an authoritative figure, but a friend at the same time. it was starting to reach a healthy balance.

"maddie, go throw your plate away." catherine calls the girl back to the counter at which she had been eating, her paper plate left alone in it's spot, containing the remnants of her fast food.

a bit confused, madison walks back over to her spot, grabbing her plate and bringing it to the metal trash can that sat comfortably in the corner of their kitchen. paige always cleaned up after her. it was easier for the both of them, and paige wasn't one for constant reminding.

"thank you." catherine thanked the girl enthusiastically, madison finding her spot on the dark grey couch to continuing watch her cartoon. peering over her shoulder to check out the time displayed on the stove that was hardly ever in use, catherine called out, "tv off in 15 minutes."

madison looked over at her nanny, now extremely confused. "but it's not my bed time yet?"

"i know, but too much tv isn't good for us, especially before bed." catherine explained gently.

madison pouts at the news, "paige lets me watch all the tv i want."

the brunette nods—trust me i know, she thought to herself. "it's okay, your mom will understand. we can read a book instead! or play barbie's. your choice!" catherine tried to sound as enthusiastic about the sudden change to make the little girl more open to the thought. it took a few nights before they got the hang of it.

madison begins picking up her toys, attempting to run to her room once she believes she done. noticing a few left behind, catherine called her back to pick up the rest. "mira, mira," the girl spoke quickly and fluently, pausing the girl in her tracks and pointing towards the miscellaneous toys. madison sighed before picking up the rest, then trucking to her room.

in that moment, paige began leaving her room, passing her daughter in the hall. "hi, paigey." madison greeted happily, seemingly forgetting the attitude she had a few moments ago.

the blonde stopped in her tracks, smiling down at her daughter and placing a kiss to her forehead. "hi, babe."

continuing her way down the hall, paige is met with catherine standing in the kitchen, her head peering through the grey cupboards. "hungry?" paige calls with a smirk and a light chuckle.

the brunette looks past her shoulder, rolling her eyes at paige's joke. "deciding on what to feed maddie.. you should hit the grocery store soon." she suggested, pulling out a bag of bread.

making the girl both breakfast and lunch was something catherine had started to do this week. paige felt a little bad. it wasn't part of her job description. "y'know you don't have to. they serve breakfast at the school."

catherine wanted to laugh at the statement. "i can almost guarantee she isn't eating it. or the lunch. when i pick her up, she's starving." the girl explains, opening the bag to pull out two slices of the wheat bread. "she's started asking for big people meals when we order dinner." catherine continues.

paige chuckles at that, nodding understandably. sounds like maddie. "alright.." her words fade off momentarily, watching catherine focus on the food she preparing. "well, we appreciate it." she finished, catherine just looking up to catch her eyes for a little, flashing her a small smile before continuing at the sandwich in front of her.

"i gotchu," catherine reminds as she spread the peanut butter on the two bread slices.

not long passed before the blonde had to head out for her busy day, kissing madison goodbye as she usually did, and nodding to catherine on her way out with a smile. catherine returned the nod, along with a, "have a good day."

over these first few weeks, the two women began to get along better than they'd thought. well, better than catherine thought, at least. based off of her first impression of paige, she expected the girl to be stingy with other things too. not super involved or worried. but she happened to be the opposite.

they were becoming friends. totally unexpected, but neither of them would change it. paige was extremely appreciative of the girl. she didn't truly realize how much she really needed the extra support until catherine came along. she did way more than paige ever asked of her, and whenever paige reminded her that she didn't need to, she'd just shrug and smile, sweet like she always was.

"i don't mind."

that's why paige was less than shocked when she returned home that same night to her home smelling of warm food. it wasn't completely abnormal, but it was stronger than just the average lingering smell of fast food she was normally greeted with. sniffing as she walked in, wondering desperately what that delicious smell was, she eventually wandered into her kitchen.

she took in the appearance of the room, and how the two girls she had gotten so used to coming home to decorated it. there sat a black pot on the stove, looking to be half full of food, with a couple of spoons and spices spread out miscellaneously around it.

madison sat at the counter stool, legs dangling over her seat as she ate out of her bowl. and then there was catherine, leaning her elbows against the kitchen counter, snacking on a strawberry, biting around the stem with one leg crossed over the other. the two were just holding a normal conversation, oblivious to paige's arrival until she walked into their view. looking over simultaneously, they both greeted the girl.

"paigey!"

"hey!" catherine smiled, not forgetting to cover her mouth politely, still chewing on the strawberry.

almost disregarding their greeting, she spoke the question that had been on her mind since she walked in the door. "you cooked?" she asked, voice higher pitched, showing she was a bit surprised.

"oh, yeah," catherine nodded casually, looking over at the stove momentarily, going to point, "uh, just some chicken and rice."

when did she buy a chicken?

"i thought you said it was called arroz con pollo." madison questioned, catherine laughing at the little girls butchered pronunciation.

"arroz con pollo. that just means chicken and rice, mama." she corrected the girl gently, then repeating it slowly for her to understand better. standing up from her lounging position, catherine began to move for the living room to go grab her things, "you can totally have some, i made extra in case you wanted." she informed paige as she walked by with a light arm tap.

paige, who had just stood there, sort of in awe, finally fell out of her trance momentarily. "oh, wait," she stops the girl, before she forgets. reaching into her backpack, which was previously resting comfortably on her shoulder, she dug around it before pulling out and handing catherine her check for this weeks work. catherine almost forgot it was friday.

"sweet, thanks." catherine smiled at her, taking it. looking over the numbers to make sure it was correct, her eyes bulged. "oh shit, you wrote it wrong." she informed, looking up at the girl slightly, handing the check back to her.

paige shrugged, shaking her head, "i don't think so."

catherine scoffed at this, a knowing smile plastering her face as she understood paige's tone. "then you over paid. i'm not taking that."

paige just shook her head no, again. "keep it. for the chicken." paige joked, alluding to the cooked and sliced chicken in the pot.

"it was like eight dollars. it's fine." catherine insisted, now pushing the check against paige's stomach, eyes still looking up at the blonde.

paige's body slumped away from her poking instinctively. "seriously, keep it. for all the extra stuff you been doing." paige says sincerely.

soon, the brunette had a playful smile on her plumped lips, and it was like paige almost knew what she was going to say. "paige bueckers, are you tipping me?" she jokes, a laugh slipping out instantly. she’ll never stop joking about the first night they met.

paige rolled her eyes jokingly, letting out a small laugh too, "get outta here." she dismisses her, but continuing with her praises from earlier. "seriously though, you're help the last few weeks has been great, and it's helped me a lot. even with maddie, her teacher says she's been improving so much... we appreciate what you do. right, mads?" she spoke louder with that last part, grabbing her daughters attention.

they both look over to the little girl, playing with the few stray grains of rice in her bowl. "what does appreciate mean?"

"it means we're thankful." paige explained simply.

madison then nods, agreeing with her mom. "yeah, i'm thankful for you, cat."

catherine's heart swelled up at that comment, her stomach dipping a bit. she had started to grow so fond of this little family. she's never been so excited to go to work in her life. being with the bueckers didn't even feel like working, though. she had started really see them as her friends, her family. her heart was always fulls around them.

and finding the pot that was once filled with food empty the next morning made her heart even fuller.

authors note!

love. them. so. bad.

sooo super excited to write for this cutesy little family. let me know what you’re thinking! any theories on the angst that’s not far away??

also, if you want more frequent updates, my wattpad (@/uwupaige) gets new chapters like 3 times a week!

thanks for reading!🩷

- mari 🫧

4.8k words.

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 1>

Word count: 2k

It is a snowy Saturday in New York which is perfect for a coffee hangout with friends drinking overpriced hot chocolate or reading a clichè romance book by the fireplace at home but do you know where I am? I am situated in a hospital room, worrying my ass off for my dear uncle Paul.

"Uncle, I hope you get better soon" I was holding his hand. If something happens to him, I would completely lose it. He is the closest family I have after my mother.

He apparently got into an accident earlier and for everybody's surprise, that accident didn't happen in WWE - the place that can literally end you in the hospital especially for a talker like my uncle. But no, it wasn't there. He may have broken his leg in his very own house while he was trying to fix his lightbulb.

Yeah, I know this sounds very dumb but sometimes the dumbest things lead us to accidents.

"Don't worry, Sophia. I'm going to be fine." he assured me with a little nod.

"So Mr. Heyman" the doctor entered in the room. A medium tall man with very short grey-white hair and beard. He was holding an X-ray.

"You see this?" he showed it to me and uncle. I see an X-ray. My mom would be more familiar with this. "I don't know how you fell down but this a serious injury. You will need a lot of rest and time for recovery."

"Yeah, okay. I understand" uncle gave one of his light smiles.

"That means no work" the doctor specified.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson" oh no. Here he goes. The ultimate talker himself, Paul Heyman. "I am the special council for your Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns and he has to prepare for a very important match for the Royal Rumble which is a fatal 4-way match by the way which in case you don't know, it means he has to fight three men at the same time, so he can defend his Undisputed WWE championship and then he has to prepare for Wrestlemania 40." I'm sure the doctor understood close to nothing from what was said. I know uncle gets crazy during Wrestlemania season and now he will get even crazier that he won't be able to work.

"Uncle" I sighed and rolled my eyes. He loves his job. He has always loved his job but he is way too dedicated and that's why he got so far, of course. He is amazing at what he does. I watch his stuff from time to time. I know all of his guys and I know that Roman Reigns is a big deal.

The doctor had the typical look of confusion, probably thinking my uncle is crazy which he is. He is a crazy man indeed but I still love him. He has helped me a lot throughout the years.

Especially after my father died from overdose almost 9 years ago. I was just 18 years old when this happened and uncle still hasn't forgiven his own brother for doing this to me, his only daughter, and my mother who is a very successful surgeon, by the way.

Uncle was the only one who supported me when I said I wanted to major in journalism in Julliard because I think I got that orator skills from him. My mother, of course, wasn't supportive since she wanted me to become a doctor. I mean are we surprised?

But I knew I ain't made for the hospital rooms. I am made for talking. I was born with a big mouth and have talked smack since forever.

After I finished my master's degree program in Mass Communication in Julliard I started an internship in Brooklyn Magazine where I write articles. The editor in chief likes them and she said she sees a high potential in me.

"If you want to recover sooner, Mr. Heyman, you have to stay at home and take a rest. Your wife can take care of you-

"I'm divorced" uncle interrupted him.

"I will take care of you, uncle. No problem." I said immediately.

"No." he just shook his head. Who is gonna take care of him then? My cousins are in college and I'm working a full time job.

"Look, I can ask my boss for less hours work" I tried to persuade him.

"No" he shook this head, saying with the exact same tone as earlier. I see the spark in his eyes. The same spark when he comes up with something.

"I can always hire a lady to take care of me but you, my dear niece, will take my spot temporarily in WWE as a special council for the Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns".

I furrowed my eyebrows so hard that I bet, an enormous wrinkle appeared on my forehead.

"What? Why?"

"This is going to be perfect for your resumè, Sophia. Trust me. Think about this." he seemed absolutely certain.

"Uncle, I want to be a JOURNALIST. To sit around in the studio for the morning shows, wearing my cute little costumes that I'm going to buy with my own money and interviewing politicians, celebrities and all the crazy, pretentious people that come to your mind. I don't wanna be stuck in a wrestling federation interviewing some big ass sweaty men and asking them things like 'So what are you gonna do to your opponent tonight?'. No. That's not my dream. See, the boss told me she sees a big potential in me because of my skills and face card. How am I supposed to leave?"

I just dropped my dramatic monologue about my dreams. And I didn't lie. This is how I've been imagining myself my whole life.

Uncle didn't seemed deeply fazed by this monologue. Indeed, he softened a bit but he still had the look in his eyes, the exact look that he knows he has something against me.

"Okay. Alright, Sophia. Whatever you say. I get your point. I'm not going to force you but didn't you say you want to take care of me?" I see where the things are going right now.

"Yes but that's-" he didn't even let me finish my point because he knows another monologue is coming. We rarely argue but boy, when we do, things get crazy.

"Taking my place temporarily in WWE is the best way you can help me and yourself as well. It's a win-win situation." he flashed one of his cute little innocent smiles but he knows very well he ended me with using my phrase and the "help" part.

I just pressed my lips, closed my eyes in defeat and took a deep sigh.

"Also don't make me mention the fact that you are always going to travel around the country and even the world and if you get your dream job in CNN or GMA or like you called them "morning shows", you aren't gonna travel much, for the record. You are going to be stuck in the same thing over and over again but in WWE you have the variety of experiences and you are going to see for yourself. Also WWE is the best place you can get recognition which will lead to big opportunities beyond your imagination."

And with this statement uncle just solidified himself even more as the righteous one. The part about opportunities may be no lie.

"Plus, in WWE you can wear your "cute little suits" as you referred. Allow me to send you some money and buy yourself something" he took out his phone and transferred me some money.

"Okay, uncle. I got your point already. Alright. I'm going to be your replacement...temporary." I specified.

"Temporary, of course. I would never let you take my job, Sophia. As much as I love you, you know the grip it has on me."

"I am fully aware" I chuckled and rolled my eyes.

"You will see how easy it is to work with Roman Reigns." Uncle seemed weirdly excited.

"That Aquaman ass guy? He ain't giving me those vibes but whatever you say, I guess. You know him better than me." I shrugged. Uncle always talks in superlatives when it comes to Roman Reigns. He ain't even talking about me and my cousins like that, so we get lowkey jealous.

"I want you to behave in front of him, okay? And Jey and Jimmy too. Save the smack talk for the rest of the roster." he knows how dangerous I can get when I start talking.

"Got it, uncle" I rolled my eyes for the millionth time today. We will see how these guys are going to treat me and I will decide how to behave. But from what uncle has told me they seem like great men but at the end of the day, I'm going to be the judge of that.

"Alright. Now I'm gonna make a few calls. I am going to call Roman, Hunter and even your boss if you want to. Then I'm going to tell you all about work.

"I'm gonna tell my boss, don't worry about that." I assured him.

...

"So tomorrow you have a meeting with Triple H aka Paul Levesque aka your temporary boss and after that Roman will show you around the building and everything. He may even add some stories for the business from his point of view. Agh." uncle sighed and had a big grin on his face. "He is an amazing man, Sophia. The biggest single star in the whole sports entertainment. If someday you bring me a nephew in law, I wish him to be as Roman - successful, strong, loyal and dedicated."

"Chill, uncle. You ain't at work right now." I couldn't help but laugh at him.

Honestly right now, I don't want any man. Two months ago I ended my relationship with Robert Mayer. We graduated at the same university but he was from the Law Department. Does a laywer and journalist sound like a great match?

That's what I thought.

"Dad, how are you?" my cousins flashed in the room. They are a few years younger than me and they are so cute, honestly. We exchanged a hug.

"I am gonna be okay, kids" uncle couldn't help but smile at them. "As long as I have you three, I am always going to be okay."

"We told mom about this". Jason said.

"Why? What have I told you? You don't tell your mother anything about me". He scolded my cousins. Uncle can't really stand aunt.

"Don't worry, she is not coming". Amanda assured him. She looks exactly like aunt when she was young, though. Blonde hair and brown eyes. She looks nothing like uncle but his son does. He just has hair...still.

I got the blue eyes from my father and uncle and the blonde hair from mom since she is also a natural blondie but a very skilled surgeon.

Somebody entered in the room as well. That must be aunt. I haven't seen her in ages but I couldn't mistake her.

"What did you do, Paul?" she scolded him. They still have that "married couple attitude" although they have been divorced for so long and as much uncle claims that he cannot stand her, I know it's not completely true. She is the mother of his kids after all.

"Oh Lord, please save me" uncle started baptising and looking up at the ceiling.

"Chill your dramatic ass down and let me see what have you done" she went to him and smiled at me mouthing "Hi", I did as well.

I waved at my cousins and uncle goodbye because I intend to leave them alone.

"No, Sophia. Don't leave me" he begged.

"I have to prepare for tomorrow, remember? It's a big day" I replied while walking to the door. "I'm going to contact you tomorrow and make sure to keep me updated of your condition" these were my last words before I exited the room and dialed my boss' number.

[wolfpackmuses]

I honestly can not believe 2024 is nearly over. Like, I really can't, this year has been kind of wild, in my opinion, and I think that's only leading into what I think is going to be an even wilder 2025.

As some of y'all might know, I had a few things happen this year in my personal life. I steamed ahead in my research for my master's degree (which is in the final phases now which is wild), I got an internship with the Weather Service over the summer to get some job experience, I traveled quite a few times to the Orlando area to visit my brother and sister, and most recently: I presented my research at a major conference in Washington D.C..

Not only did I do all of this, I had a fantastic year writing with all of you. I know my activity is all over the place and I have wild swings in when I want to actually write and all, but I have had a great year interacting with y'all and being able to meet so many great people. I don't think I had this much fun writing in a long time and the fact I added so many new muses to this blog (as well as making an entirely new one for my Baldur's Gate 3 OC, @bloodsoakedurge) added to the chaos that is this blog.

I have so many great threads and interactions I've had this year from all of you and I couldn't have asked for a more supportive community for me here on this blog. I didn't expect to be at the point I am now when I changed to a multiuse back in April 2023, but I think it might have been one of the best decisions I've ever made here on Tumblr. The fact it led to me meeting so many fantastic mutuals, so many great interactions, and that I have been able to share my joy of writing with all of you has been one of my favorite things to do in my spare time.

So from the bottom of my heart to all of you, I just want to say thank you. I genuinely could not have done all of this without y'all and I love all of you for your support over the past year or two since I rebranded this account. I don't think y'all will ever fully see how much I truly care about y'all, but just know that I absolutely do.

So here's to a fantastic New Year and to all the new muses I add along the way. Chaos has already been brewing with some of my new muses and I hope it can lead to me meeting so many more new and fantastic people in 2025.

Happy New Year from me to all of you. I hope all of you have a great New Year.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Read It and Weep- Part 1

Pairing: NFL!Player!Rafe Cameron x Journalist!Reader

Summary: Sports journalist Y/n is covering a pro-NFL football game when she gets knocked down by wide reciever Rafe Cameron. He helps her up and immediately can't seem to take his eyes off of her as they celebrate their win. After, at the post game conference, him and the reader share an interesting conversation and he learns (earns) her name.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Violence, swearing, I think that's it honestly.

Song: "My Ordinary Life" by The Living Tombstones

A/n: This might be the most excited I've ever seen @tee-swizzle get over a fic I've written. This is some serious hot and cute and angsty shit, buckle up, it's quite a ride. This is part 1 of 10!

I always thought the only time I would enjoy men running around in costumes would be on Broadway.

The sophisticated, planned, calculated moves, the falsetto notes they hit while running around in expensive costumes that took hours and hours to create. Men on Broadway are just a whole other breed- don’t get me wrong, all actors and actresses alike are all impressive beyond belief, it’s a hard field to be a part of. But there’s something so groundbreaking and heartwarming to see men of all backgrounds doing what they love to do.

There’s just an art to it- Broadway- a beauty that a lot of people brush off and denounce as girly or even something that’s remarkably easy. They call theater kids loony (which coming from one, I’d have to agree just a bit), they’re constantly bullied and harassed but not when they make it to the big times. No- then they are set up on this pedestal where they are to be paid hundreds or thousands of dollars to get on stage, to dance and sing their favorite show tunes together where all of a sudden they’re people to look up to, forgetting all about their high school days and all the failed auditions that teared them down. But once they’re on that stage together, creating music and art, they’re a family in a sense. Leaving it all on the stage for the viewer, us, to enjoy. 

A brotherhood.

My new stage looks a little bit differently than it did when I was sixteen. 

My new stage consists of something similar- men, running around in matching outfits, same bright lights shining on them, sweat pouring down their necks, and they’re still a brotherhood- maybe even more so in a sense. But with this stage, there’s profanities, there's violence and, most of all, there are too many balls in one place at one time. 

Pun so intended.

The world of sports is not one that I saw myself getting into at the ripe age of twenty four, let alone football. I’ve always had a bit of a thing against football players but that happens when you grow up in the theater world where you’re constantly pushed around by the ‘higher class’ of the horrible high school hierarchy, being called names, shoved down stairs, having your lunch tossed into your lap. But the job that I was offered through a local journal in my hometown was just perfect for me- I couldn’t not take it. There would be no other job that could've come around that would’ve given me the same freetime and the ability to still have control over my schedule, all while supporting my home team. It gave me a chance to travel, to learn, and to be surrounded by attractive, sweaty men doing their thing. 

There’s a bit of a silver lining to it, I guess.

Working as a journalist for a professional football team was not the intended goal when I got my Bachelors degree in Journalism, nor was it the plan for my Masters. I wanted to go into freelancing or maybe dabble a bit in the socioeconomic crisis our country’s suffering from- maybe even write a few articles on how to save the turtles or some shit. 

But football? 

I spend most of my days on the sidelines, sketching down stats, learning plays and keeping up in the personal lives of our devoted players. I’m like one of those cheerleading girls I used to hate, practically a groupie of the team at this point. Even the coach and the other behind-the-scenes workers are on a first name basis with me at this point. 

Sixteen year old me would be disgusted- repulsed.

Current me? Not so disgusted as I’m watching a bunch of tall, bachelor-like men run around the field at top speed, tackling each other as the crowd colored in all different jerseys scream or boo in unison. I can’t fight the proud smile that’s on my lips as I look out at the field, just right there in front of me- I could reach out and just be a part of it. There’s something to home games that just gets your blood pumping in a special way, especially so close to playoffs, so close to glory and a big old fancy ring for our quarterback and team. It’s every team’s goal for the year but every news agency’s eyes are on us, watching us and the players so closely, betting and guessing that we’ll be the one to win everything this year. No pressure, right?

It’s an honor to be traveling with them all, I couldn’t have been paired with a more respectful group of men, even though some of them don’t even know my name or that I exist. They might see my name occasionally at the bottom of an article I’ve written about their triumphs or losses or they know me as the girl that they accidentally mistake for the water girl and who they then apologize profusely to following the mix up. 

Sarah the water girl and I look awfully a lot we’ve learned.

There’s not a lot of time left in the game now, less than two minutes in the last quarter and it’s tight, too close for comfort as the men in the front row of the stands scream their asses off, acting like their words will have any weight in the overall game. With how we’re playing right now, the defensive line tuckered out beyond belief, we’re not looking at winning, especially if they hold possession of the ball like they have been. The other team is smart, I’ll give them that, gnawing down at the clock, running down the time so if we did get the ball, we’d barely have the time to do anything remotely impressive. We’re down by 6 and if we’d just get a touchdown we’d be good and we would win, but we just need to get possession of the ball.

I write down the numbers of the players who’ve stuck out to me the most on this team to calm my nerves; number three Cameron offense, number seventeen McHarley defense, number 4 the quarterback- wait. 

 Why is everyone cheering? 

What just happened? 

Looking up from my notepad, I watch as our defense runs the ball in the opposite direction that we were going in before, instead towards the opposing team's endzone, indicating that, indeed, there was a turnover of some sort while I wasn’t paying attention. If that’s all it takes, my job just became a whole lot easier. 

The play resets, our offensive line and our quarterback stumble onto the field with a bit more pep in their steps compared to their previous run. They’re cheering and high fiving the defense as they pass each other in the middle of the field, bright smiles calming everyone's general anxiety and setting the record straight that we’re still in the game. There’s still a chance. 

They set themselves up within seconds and in moments they’re hiking the ball. I watch number three, one of my favorite wide receivers to watch, simply because of his overall spunk and sass for the game, subtly loving when he gets into little fights with people because I can always manage to hear his silly, boyish insults. He tries so hard to act tough, when he's really just the biggest puppy of all time. 

I’m so caught up in thinking about him, I completely miss him barreling my way just as the quarterback throws the ball in his direction. Cameron is wide open, no one even close to tackling him and I can hear him whooping as he runs towards the end zone. I grin wildly as he catches the ball, solidifying our win, and before the refs even signal for a TD, the whole crowd erupts in giggles and cheers. I go to clap and cheer for him but before I can, an opposing player is giving him one last shove for good measure and he is tumbling onto the ground, the ref beside me immediately throwing a flag into the air, just as Rafe slides in my direction full force. 

Before I can move, he takes me down to the ground. Hard. 

I hit the floor with a loud thud, ears ringing as my head slams against the turf and I can hear muffled voices and hands grabbing at me, brain rattling around in my head as I shove my eyes closed as tightly as they can, hands reaching up to cradle my aching skull. I can feel people trying to pry me up onto my feet, to help me up but I’ve barely even processed that I’ve fallen or that my favorite wide receiver is currently laying on both of my legs, trapping me to the ground. 

My eyes pop open moments later at the realization and I see cameras around me, mostly pointed at Cameron who’s kneeling in front of me, soft, blue, worried eyes gazing back at me as I struggle to find my voice. He looks at me, waiting for me to speak and, when I don’t, he simply reaches out, placing a firm, protective hand on the side of my head, steading my spinning eyes. I feel my body warming up at his touch, the loud, thrumming music playing in the stadium as an attempt to celebrate is drowned out by his voice filling my ears, his whole body leaning towards me so he can speak directly against the shell of my ear. 

“You good?” He yells over the cheering, thumb brushing against my temple, and I realize he’s not even celebrating the fact that he just won the game that’s sending us to playoff games, mapping the road to the Superbowl. I give him a half assed nod and a flushed smile and before I can say anything else, his teammates are pulling him up and into their arms, screaming loudly as boys can, all for the cameras as they pat each other on the helmets, knocking them together every once in a while.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I mutter to myself, pressing my pointer finger and thumb to the bridge of my nose to aid the headaches that’s creeping up the back of my neck, taking deep breaths and praying I don’t have a concussion. From across the field, through the mess of players and confetti, I can see number three looking over at me with kind, worried eyes that seem to want to say more than what he’s already said to me.

His eyes make me nearly forget that it’s my job to interview them. 

I guess I’ll ride my headache out and wait till the post game conference. 

–

From the time I got knocked down to the time when I stepped foot into the conference room, there were at least twenty-six different people who asked me if I was the one who was ‘tackled’ by Rafe Cameron after he caught the winning touchdown. After the third time, I started to feel a bit sheepish and honestly a bit embarrassed, wondering how long they’re going to string this out and ask me what it was like to be tackled by America’s most loved wide receiver. 

It was rough, I hit my head, it hurt- what else do they want from me? Do they want me to say I’m honored that he was so close to me, fangirl over his presence, that he made eye contact with me? Hell, he’s human and so am I. His reaction was purely a moment of humility and humanity shining through. 

But I totally did get butterflies.

But, to be honest, he is probably the most wholesome, mama’s boy you’ll ever see.

Dirty blonde, shaggy hair, blue shining eyes, overall toned to a T and he’s all meathead minus all of the misogyny and toxic masculinity. He’s always respectful in interviews, polite to women- it’s obvious he was raised well and anyone with a brain can tell that he’s wildly intelligent from his masters degree in Sports Communication. It’s impressive, his story. 

“So, you won the came, Cameron- how does it feel?” An interviewer calls out from the audience beside me, the happy smile on his face only feeding into the fact that he’s definitely a fan, and Rafe smiles handsomely, looking out across the audience with a simple, humble shrug. 

“Felt good taking the team to the playoffs. I couldn’t have done it without my quarterback, number 4, Greg Abernathy.” He reaches over to slap Greg on the back and I grin, scribbling down some words on my notepad, a small smile on my face as I listen to the boys commend each other in a bro-mance type love. They’re always very supportive of one another, having a type of relationship where you really don’t see one without hte other. They’re constantly training together, getting dinner together, having literal sleepovers at each other’s apartments (or so I’ve heard). They’re brothers, there’s no better description for the boys. “But I really have to give it up to the nice lady that I tackled, I feel horrible. I’d like to dedicate our win to her today since she obviously was a part of my excitement. You can put that in writing.” 

I’m sorry? 

Dedicated?

What?

All eyes turn to look at me and I feel my face drain of any color, every hair on my body sticking up as I suddenly feel so small in this room full of my very own coworkers and competitors. I can hear Rafe mutter a quiet ‘shit, she’s here?’ away from the mic and to Greg, who just chuckles and points in my direction, the direction that everyone happens to be looking in. I can see the looks in other journalists' and reporters' eyes, they want to talk to me, they want to shove microphones in my face but based on the ‘deer in headlights’ look I’m giving everyone, I think I’ll be safe from their interrogations. Rafe looks at me and his smile only grows, fingers reaching out to wrap around the mic to pull it closer to his lips as I anticipate what’s to come.

“Hi nice lady that I knocked over, are you okay?” His voice is ten times deeper than it was just moments ago and I can feel my brain melting just at the feeling of him looking back at me, matching my gaze as if he’s just as excited to be speaking to me one on one. 

Me. 

“I’m okay, just a bit banged up.” I call out, shakily shoving my pen and paper into my bag beside me to give him my undivided attention which, it’s not like he has to fight for it, I’m practically drooling simply because he’s gazing at me, giving me his complete and utter attention as hands raise around the room. The way he’s staring at me, eagerly hanging onto every word I say and I can see it, it’s not like he’s even trying to not seem completely enthralled with my every breath. 

“Man, you traumatized the poor girl.” Greg mutters into the mic and the room erupts in laughter and I bite back the laugh that wants to escape me but I don’t dare allow the giggles to leave me when Rafe is just staring me down with a soft look and a gentle smile, something completely opposite of his rowdy behavior and profanities on the field. But after a second, a look of realization passes across his expression and he turns to look at Greg with a worried expression before glancing back at me.

“I did not- you’re not traumatized, right?” He asks me and I laugh, waving him off as I reach up to knock at my own head. What a stupid move, Y/l/n, get it together.

“No, god no. It happens.” I chuckle, brushing off his concerns of injury and he visibly relaxes, head bobbing in a gentle nod as he laughs sheepishly, almost embarrassed that he seemed to care so much in front of a room of random people. “It could’ve been worse. Could’ve been the other team, they wouldn’t have helped me up.”

“So you’re saying his charisma and manners is what saved him from being brutalized all over the internet?” Greg interrupts before Rafe can say anything with a wide eyed, shocked, teasing look.

“For sure.” I grin proudly, already thinking about how excited I’ll be to call my dad after this conference and tell him all about how I got to talk to and compliment one of his favorite players in the NFL. He’s going to shit his pants. He’s been gushing about his stats for the two years that Rafe’s been on the team, every Sunday, blabbering about his stats, his goals, his story- hell I probably know more about him than anyone else in this room right now.

“Well, I appreciate that. My step mom will be happy to hear she did something right.” Rafe blushes warmly, the redness creeping down his neck and under the polo that he wears as another rumble of laughter rolls over the room like a wave and I keep it in the back of my mind to make it known in my article that he’s definitely some sort of mama’s boy through and through. No wonder he’s so respectful. 

“Happy to help.” I smile warmly, the room falling awkwardly silent again before the reporters buzz with questions like angry bees, eager to move on from Rafe and I ogling each other oddly from across the room. I can’t fight the butterflies fluttering in my stomach at the conversation we just had; there was no hint of annoyance, only eager questions and concern that I genuinely do appreciate. He didn’t need to follow up with me, he didn’t need to call me out in regards to their win, all that without even knowing I was here. 

But he did.

That matters for something, right?

Right?

“Hey, before we move on, I just wanna get your name- what’s your name? Are you one of our journalists?” Rafe asks, quickly grabbing hold of the mic firmly in his fist before Greg can pull it away from him and I nod firmly and proudly.

“My name’s Y/n Y/l/n and, yeah, I’ve worked for you guys for nearly eight months.” I swallow my nerves, now suddenly aware that he knows who I am and can talk to me and look for me in any crowd and just know who I am. Rafe Cameron knows who I am. 

It takes a second but I’m slowly realizing that he’s truly just a person and not anything to be afraid of. 

Right?

“Oh my god she’s the one who wrote that article about your tweets on twitter like two weeks ago.” Greg gasps and the room turns to me once again, confusion and shock written across all of their faces and, I’ve got to give it to him, I’m shocked that they even read articles about them. I assumed they just filter it out and try not to pay attention to the news headlines with their names in it but, now that I know that they read them, I’ll be more careful when throwing the word ‘handsome’ around in my pieces.

“Guilty as charged.” I breathe a sigh, reaching up to rub at the back of my neck awkwardly and a sort of tension falls over the room as everyone waits for a more in depth answer from me, their eyes (especially Rafe’s) practically begging for why I wrote the article. “I think it’s nice for young viewers, especially young boys, to see someone who’s a better influence than most of the sports players that are in the media.” A nod of agreement falls across the room and Rafe smiles wholesomely, looking at Greg with a happily proud expression written across his face, like he’s made it.

“So I’m a role model, that’s what you are saying?” He asks but there’s no cockiness or arrogance to his voice- no- just pure and utter pride and vulnerability at the thought of doing right by the football world and, in my opinion, he definitely has. 

All of the gala’s he’s attended, the hospitals he’s visited to talk to and to comfort young children, the way his smile lights up the locker room- even if they lose- the beaming smile he shows if they do win, and all of the money he’s donated to so many important organizations- my point, and the point of my article was, is that he’s what the NFL should be fronting, not the garbage-like, questionable, geriatric old men who need to retire.

“Exactly what I’m saying.” I smile firmly, not tearing my gaze away from his as he nods, leaning back in his chair and he finally appears content with our conversation because he finally allows Greg to take the mic back, but his eyes do not leave me as the room fills with questions once more.

“Hey, that was sweet and all, but can we talk about football now?”

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 1

Yeah...I know I said I would be taking a step back but then my muse went “Brrrrr!” and wouldn’t let me up until I had over 6k words and several more scenes I wanted to do, including the end.

Art student!Steve and Live Model! Eddie AU. Enemies to lovers. Eddie is a straight up ass in the first few chapters of this.

*

Steve was in the library looking at his schedule with Robin.

“It’s my last semester, Robs,” he said squinting at the computer screen. “And then I can graduate.”

Robin sighed. “I still have a year to go, you are so lucky.”

Steve was looking at the remaining credits he needed to graduate with art teaching degree and was shocked to find that he only needed one class.

“Shit.”

She leaned over his shoulder to look at the computer, too.

“Shit,” she echoed.

“Live figure drawing,” Steve muttered with an air finality. “The class I failed three times.”

“Mhmm,” Robin agreed. “Once a year.”

He banged his head on the desk. “I hate that class. And it’s always awful. There was the creepy old man that kept hitting on me the whole time.” He had been forced to drop the class. He had been reimbursed for it, but because it happened just after the midterm, insta-fail. “Then there was poor heavy-set girl. The constant sniggering and jeering made me ill and when the professor refused to anything about it...” he shook his head.

“Yeah, that was the worst,” Robin whispered. “But at least that incident got that professor fired.”

Steve nodded. That had been the only good thing that had come out of that class. But getting him fired made for another insta-fail. He tried to protest that one, but the Dean refused to budge.

“The last time was all you, though,” she said, pushing at his shoulder.

Steve cleared his throat and hung his head. Because, yeah that one was on him.

The new professor brought in an extremely fit basketball player. Steve had spent very little time drawing and a lot of time trying not to stare. So when he turned in his final with a blurry face and nothing drawn in the middle, he had failed the class again.

Robin pointed at the screen. “It’s a different teacher again this year.”

Steve lifted his head to look at what she was pointing at. J. Byers.

“Shit,” he murmured. “You don’t think that’s like Joyce Byers, do you?”

Steve had done a lot of babysitting and holding down two jobs to pay for school out his own pocket because his dad wasn’t willing to pay for what amounted to an art degree. He would work at Family Video while the kids were in school and then work at the plant at nights on weekends.

Will Byers was one of those he babysat. The kid had an older brother. But he had been working full time to keep the lights on while their mom got a master’s degree.

Robin’s mouth worked but no sound came out.

“I think this got even more awkward,” Steve murmured.

Robin just patted his shoulder in sympathy.

*

Steve was in hell. That was the only explanation for all of this. It had been Joyce Byers and he had to get the Dean to sign off him being in her class because she might be accused of favoritism. In fact if it hadn’t been the only class Steve needed to graduate he was pretty sure the Dean wouldn’t have allowed it.

Which was fine. Awkward, but fine. Nope. The part that made it hell was who was currently sitting on a stool in the middle of the classroom, (completely dressed, thank god!) was Eddie Munson.

The so-called Freak of Hawkins High. Or as Steve called him in his head “Steve Harrington’s biggest gay crush.” So yeah. All that work to get special permission to take the class and he was going to fail anyway.

Joyce stepped up to stand next to Eddie. “Hello, I’m Mrs Byers. Or Joyce, whichever make you more comfortable. Because that’s the point of this class. You being comfortable. I know this not ideal for a lot people. Especially young people like yourselves. So we’re going to start off slow. Working on different parts of the body and then for your final it will the complete nude form.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. He wasn’t the only one, thank god, but if Eddie had stripped then and there, Steve would have fainted.

“This will be your live model this semester,” she continued, indicating to Eddie on the stool. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

Eddie grinned, his dimples making themselves known. “Hi! I’m Eddie. I was looking for a way to make easy money between gigs with my band. I have tattoos, but Joyce here has assured me that that won’t be problem for you sweethearts as this is an advanced art class.”

Steve gulped. It wasn’t going to be a problem art-wise. But libido-wise? He was in so much trouble.

After class he stopped to talk to Joyce.

“Hey, Mrs Byers,” he greeted with barely the hint of a stammer. “How’s Will?”

Joyce hugged him. “It’s so good to see you, honey. Will is doing great. He’s navigating school better now that we’re back in Illinois.”

Steve nodded. They had briefly gone out to California so that she could get some special accreditation or something like that.

“Tell him I miss him,” he said.

Joyce smiled. “Of course, sweetie.” She gave his hand a squeeze and said she had to get back to work.

Steve nodded again and walked out the door.

“Well, well, well,” Eddie said. “If it isn’t the former king of Hawkins High. I thought I saw you lurking in the back.”

Steve closed his eyes and turned slowly. There he was, leaning against the wall, one leg propped against, while the other stretched out in front of him. His arms were crossed, and his hair dangled in front of his bowed head. Steve itched to draw him oh so badly.

“Munson,” he said trying to keep the tremor from his voice.

Eddie lifted his head. “So you do remember me, should I feel honored?”

Steve let out a heavy sigh. “You do what you want, you always have.”

“I heard you got special permission for this class,” Eddie sneered. “You convince the Dean to take the class for a lookie-Lou? Sorry to disappoint, Harrington. Not some hot chick you can leer at for fifteen weeks.”

Steve’s head rocked back in shock. “Fuck you, man. For starters I got special permission because being the former babysitter for teacher is a bad look for both of us. For another, this is my last class I need for my art degree.”

Eddie raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Daddy let you take art? Must really not need the dough.”

Steve balled his hands to prevent the rage from tumbling out. “No. I worked hard to get where I am. And for the record...they never have hot women. Not if they don’t want to get sued for harassment. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to work because not all of us can take our clothes off and be paid.”

He stormed off, tears streaming down his face.

*

Eddie watched him go with a slow lick of his lips. That went differently then he expected. He didn’t think Harrington would cop to admitting that he was there to leer, but his lie about art school? That was a new low.

And babysitting? No parent in their right mind would leave Steve “the Hair” Harrington in charge of their kids. Lie number two.

And then trying to get out of talking to him by saying he had work? Harrington lived in Loch Nora. The richest part of town. He didn’t have to work a day in his life. Lie number three.

And what was that about not being able to take off his clothes and get paid? It didn’t sound right to his ears. It was like he wasn’t dogging the modeling gig but that he couldn’t.

Which anyone who had eyes knew that was bullshit.

Joyce came out and saw him still standing there. “Thank you again for doing this, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome, Joyce,” he said with a charming smile. “I don’t mind. I’m sorry your other model bailed on you last minute though.”

Joyce sighed. “She got a bar tending job that starts on tonight and I’d really prefer not to have my models fall asleep in the middle of posing.”

“Chrissy’s good girl,” Eddie said. “I’m actually glad she got the job at the bar. Some of the guys in the class looked pretty slimy.”

Joyce sighed. “It happens every time. They take just enough art classes in order to get in and then are disappointed when it’s not some pretty girl.”

Eddie nodded, thinking of Steve Harrington.

“And this school has had a problem with a couple of the last models they had,” Joyce murmured. “If another incident occurs, the class will be dropped all together and I’ll be out of job.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” he said, with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.

Joyce looked up at him with a smile. “You’re so sweet, Eddie. I’m glad Will found someone like you to look up to.”

Eddie blushed, shoving his hair in his mouth. “I like the kid. He’ll do just fine.”

Joyce nodded. “See you tomorrow.” She waved goodbye and walked away.

*

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Epilogue

Just tagging a few of my regulars, but if you want to be tagged let me know in the comments. Thanks!

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Heya guys! ya'll are awesome by the way :) I'm pretty sure this hasn't been asked yet, but could you find some Sterek fics where either Stiles or Derek wear glasses and the other finds it really attractive, please? :D

Sure!

A Bite by FairyNiamh

(1/1 I 408 I Teen)

It was only a cake, how bad could a bite be?

Eye of the Beholder by TricksterShi

(1/1 I 3,941 I Teen)

"When was the last time you had an eye exam?"

A simple question leads to some lingering body issues Stiles has to wrestle with but, in the end, Derek proves Stiles has nothing to worry about when it comes to what he looks like through Derek's eyes.

First Date (Queer Your Coffee, Part Two) by alisvolatpropiis

(1/1 I 4,791 I Explicit)

“Holy fuck,” Derek whispers when finally sees Stiles’ cock. It’s gorgeous, long and thick with a big head, which is pierced, the tip shiny and wet. He should have expected it really, the piercing, a prince albert he thinks it’s called, not sure because he’s never seen one, never knew how fucking hot it could be. There are two balls just like the ones in Stiles’ tongue, one nestled in his pretty little slit, the other tucked under the crown of his head, joined by a slightly curved bar under the skin. Derek swallows hard and his mouth fills with hot saliva, one hand going to his own cock, shoving his boxer briefs down his thighs in a rush. He wants to stroke himself, but the thought of that piercing on his tongue, against his throat, fuck, in his ass, has him dangerously close to coming untouched, so he grips the base hard instead, staving it off.

Stiles purrs. “See something you like, big guy?”

Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup

(4/4 I 14,429 I General)

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.”

“Oh thank god!”

“Stiles?”

“I, uh, I need some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?”

Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.”

“Stiles...what are you doing right now?”

***

Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work.

Partly because their visit was a complete surprise.

But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend.

Or even know who Derek was.

But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

no aphrodisiac like loneliness by thepsychicclam

(1/1 I 19,705 I Explicit)

Stiles is 27 now, with a master’s degree and a career and a house and a serious boyfriend and a life in San Francisco that doesn't include Derek. But then Stiles unexpectedly shows back up in Beacon Hills, and Derek would recognize that scent anywhere.

Falling down like dominoes by allofspace

(7/7 I 21,666 I Teen)

Stiles has just started a new job, uprooting his life (new city, new apartment) to finally put his degree to good use. Aside from the hot brooding guy who refuses to smile at him, and his creepy cubicle-mate, the people are great, especially his new BFF Allison. Scott may or may not be taking their separation horribly.

10 Things I Hate (love) About You by catsteww

(1/1 I 31,153 I Teen)

When Kate Argent hires Stiles to date Derek and get paid for it, Stiles obviously agrees and sets out to win his heart. Except Stiles wasn't expecting Derek to actually have layers underneath his tough exterior, and he certainly wasn't expecting to develop pesky little feelings for him. And everything gets a little messed up along the way.

Lightly based on the movie.

If You Wanna Be My Roomie (Lover) by orphan_account

(23/23 I 65,056 I Explicit)

Realistically, Stiles knew that the local University's popularity and commonality meant that many members of his graduating high school class would be starting the Fall 2016 semester alongside him, but he never expected his longtime crush to be one of them. Even more so, he never expected said crush to be assigned as his roommate...oh boy.

I Wish He Was Mine, He's Really Divine by yodasyoyo 

(24/24 I 87,706 I Teen)

Derek has been pining for Stiles Stilinski for years. He never thought he'd actually be in with a chance, but all that's about to change.

OR: Very slow build Sterek, with nerd!Derek, sort of badboy!Stiles, plenty of pining and a Kira/Derek friendship for the ages.