#and then i was like 'I AM NOT LOGGING OUT UNTIL WE DO THIS THANK YOUUUU’

[fisheito]

slithering out from under a rock or something to inform you that you DO have followers who are yaku lovers <3 he's been my fave since day one and i would love to accompany him to the farmers market

ah.. i sit corrected... valuable confirmation of intel. *enters it manually into the nucadex* where to find yakufans: farmer's market (they will be farming and/or marketing)

[seekingthestars]

oh my god wait it's storytime!!

so last night at like midnight i booped onto Sky for a second to grab the daily candle cakes and then leave. while i was in the Vault, i noticed another sky kid who looked like they were struggling with a spirit, so i decided to accept their friend request when they asked and helped them complete two. we tried to chat at one point but they only spoke Chinese so it was mostly just honking and emotes after that HAHA then we got separated and i just finished my Vault run and went back to Home when all of a sudden that same sky kid showed up at Home

they wanted my hand again so i said heck, i can play for a few more minutes, and let them drag me off to the forest.

helped them get a hard spirit in the forest and then they found a bunch of people i guess they knew?? idk, there was a lot of talking that i could not see and i just kind of let them drag me around bc i was intrigued and confused with what was going on LOL but then i caught "treehouse" in the bits of translated text i could grab sO

i just decided heck i'm gonna wait and see if they do the quests

and guess what they DID

it took way too long to get organized HAHA but we did the 4 and 5 person quests and then the final one too so i was up until 2am which was a MISTAKE but my treehouse is done!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i felt kinda bad but i dipped real fast after i finished the treehouse quest line bc it was 2am and i really needed to sleep but letting myself be semi-kidnapped by a bunch of players turned out to be very productive HAHAHA

[rheasesposts]

stone

sully family x fem!daughter/sister!navi!reader

summary : Y/N felt off to her family, and her parents were going to get to the bottom of it.

——————————————————————————

“Watch out!” Lo’ak roared to his older sister, Y/N, who was inches away from hitting one of the floating mountains as the two were avoiding sky people bullets. She swerved quickly and raced to be behind Lo’ak once more, being a lookout for them.

“Y/N, Lo’ak, do you copy?” Jake breathlessly transmitted to his children as he scanned the air space for his two most reckless kids. Neytiri flew beside him shooting deathly arrows at sky people’s chests. “Y/N!”

“I am here, we are here.” Y/N logged on, but couldn’t say more as more guns were aimed at her and Lo’ak. Y/N, under her breath, groaned and yielded her bow to shoot at the opposing forces. A battle cry escaped her lips as her arrow planted itself in a soldier’s face. And another. Another. Another. Until no more pellets could be heard fired at Y/N and Lo’ak. Y/N breathed heavily and called for her Ikran to go faster. Her bones were already dully aching again.

“Head to base, our work is done here.” Jake spoke over the comms. Lo’ak and Y/N shared a glance before swooping to fly toward High Camp. Neteyam caught up to them as they landed inside the alcove. Jake and Neytiri checked their three children for any marks and found only small ones.

“My child, I saw you. You were brilliant.” Neytiri praised her daughter who flushed from the compliment. Y/N couldn’t believe it herself since she felt so numb recently.

“I mean they were shooting at us.” Y/N justified and shrugged off her mother’s words. “I am going to spend time with grandmother.”

The four warriors of the Sully family were left standing, not knowing exactly what happened. Neteyam shot Lo’ak a look, and Lo’ak only raised a brow inquisitively. Jake studied his two sons.

“Did someone touch her?” Jake asked Lo’ak. “Like lay a hand on her, got too close.”

“No, we were in the sky.” Lo’ak explained, and Jake stared at the healer tent Y/N ventured into. “Maybe she’s just off, I am sure she’ll be better by tonight.”

Neytiri nodded at her youngest son, “Yes, Ma Jake, it will all be well.” Neytiri kissed his shoulder before walking into the healer tent, too.

——

Y/N felt heavy, like a boulder stuck in between two mountains, waiting to drop and crack everywhere. Not only was there guilt building up inside of her, but her body felt immobile sometimes, like her legs were stone. She couldn’t tell her family because they wouldn’t know how to help her. So, she kept quiet and hoped it would pass.

“Why don’t you come hunt with me?” Neteyam inquired to his sister. Y/N’s body was having a particularly difficult day, and she could barely shift to look at him without wanting to grunt in pain. Neteyam noted the grimace on Y/N’s face and became concerned. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing, Nete, I am fine.” Y/N stiffly stood and walked out of the tent in search of her Ikran, so she could fly away. Neteyam, like before, was left to decipher what just happened. He saw her struggle with getting up and leaving, and Neteyam knew he had to tell someone.

Neteyam spotted his mother by Kiri in the healer’s tent and decided to go to her. Neytiri waited with open arms for her son as he walked straight into them. “I fear there is something wrong with Y/N.”

Neytiri glimpsed down at Neteyam, and a frown overcomes her face, “What do you mean, my child?” She pushed his braids behind his ears.

“She seemed in pain when she was standing up and walking away.” Neteyam told her. Neytiri sighed and looked to Kiri who merely made an awkward smile and lifted her arms in a shruggish manner. “I think you or Dad should talk to her.”

“Yes, thank you.” Neytiri’s kissed her son’s cheek before leaving to find her mate. Jake was leading a small group of hunters through a training course right outside the camp, but he stopped once he saw Neytiri’s urgent expression. He legged over to her and took her face into his hands gently.

“What is it?” Jake said, a little words about what his mate might say.

“Neteyam says Y/N is in pain.” Neytiri answered in a hushed tone. “Struggling physically.”

Jake looked bewildered at this news and shot Neytiri a confused glance. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” Neytiri admitted before the both of them were sprinting to their Ikran and mounting the beasts. The two investigated the whole of the floating mountains with no luck in finding their eldest daughter. The next place they looked was the Tree of Souls, and Neytiri could hear a voice from below and knew that was Y/N.

The parents creeped up, trying not to spook their daughter or any other creature nearby. Neytiri and Jake could now hear what Y/N was exactly saying, or praying actually.

“Please, Eywa, I am tired. Show me something, anything to help me. I am so, so tired.” A sob ripped from Y/N’s throat at the end of her prayer. Y/N curled into a ball at the base of the tree and tried find the comfort of Eywa in the roots. Her cries upset Jake and Neytiri deeply because they wanted to help her. “Eywa, please.”

“My daughter, tell me what is wrong.” Neytiri finally whispered and approached Y/N silently. Y/N raised her gaze to her mother, and more tears fell from her yellow eyes. “Oh, my baby.” Neytiri coddled Y/N in her arms, despite Y/N wailing from the discomfort it brought upon her bones. “Y/N, Y/N, please, tell me.”

“I am hurting.” Y/N stuttered out through her cries. Jake sat down on the root next to his mate and daughter. “I feel heavy.”

“What’s hurting?” Jake placed a hand on Y/N’s neck. Y/N fell into her Dad’s embrace with Neytiri still latched on. “Come on, baby.”

“Everything, all the time.” Her ears were flat against her head when she whimpered that to her father. “I ache.”

“My baby.” Jake breathlessly huffed, and Y/N was folded into his side completely after that. “We can help you, Norm can examine you.”

“No, no, no, no, that is only part of it. I am sick, my mind, it won’t go away.” Y/N angrily wailed, and Neytiri shushed her with a gentle rub of the arm. “The voices are just there, they won’t go away. Make them go away!” Neytiri couldn’t watch as her daughter broke down in front of her so vulnerably, yet so brave. “Dad, I want my mind gone.”

“Hey, we can help you with that, too.” Jake mumbled and softly elevated Y/N’s head out of his chest, so they could be eye to eye. “We will help you. You are not alone. Not anymore.”

“Ok.” Was Y/N’s broken response. Y/N fell asleep after awhile of her parents lulling her into a peaceful state. Jake carried to his Ikran and rode home with her nestled into his body. Once home, their other children were up and concerned for their sister. Everyone peered as Y/N and her father laid on the mat, and Neytiri sidling up beside her mate to provide extra support.

The other kids joined the three and dispersed themselves among the dog pile, making sure not to wake the sleeping Y/N. Jake stroked Y/N’s hair and knew she was different, and that he would help his daughter any way he could. Always.

[vodika-vibes]

Hi Vodika 🥰

I'm back with a second ask for your follower celebration!

Could I get a Wolffe x Fem!Reader with a narcissus and pansy bouquet? Where the reader ends up in the hospital and Wolffe confesses his love for her when he visits and realizes how much she means to him?

Please and thank you 💚😘💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Accidents Happen

Summary: You've been crushing on Wolffe for, what seems like, forever. But you're convinced that he'll never feel the same. However, when you're injured at work, things change.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x F!Reader

Word Count: 2020

Prompts: Narcissus - unrequited love, Pansy - you occupy my thoughts

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: You did say that Wolffe was on your brain! So I hope this story makes you happy! And here's your personal divider that I made for you. As a note This is Wolffe's message, and This is the reader's messaging.

Early mornings are the worst, you think as your alarm goes off at 5 am.

You lay in bed for a moment, listening to your alarm scream at you from across the room, before you sigh and swing your legs out of the bed and push to your feet. 

Early mornings where you actually have to do work the whole day are even worse. You blearily cross the room and hit the button on top of your clock, before you flip the lightswitch, making it impossible for you to go back to sleep.

And then you cross back to your bed, and grab your comm from its charger.

Several messages from your friends from the night before. Several more from your boss from last night and early this morning. A handful of emails that need to be deleted or responded to in kind.

You sigh heavily, and open the app for your work. You quickly log in for the day, before you go back to your emails. You absently answer several work emails as you pad through the apartment into your kitchen.

You set your comm down on the counter, still scanning your emails, and you grab your electric kettle to fill it with water. You set it back on it’s stand and flick the power switch, before you grab your comm again and turn to leave the room.

You start to reply to an email when the dark blue bubble of your instant messenger pops up on the screen.

You up?

Your heart speeds up and your face heats when you see the simple words sent to you by Wolffe. Your crush on him is, frankly, embarrassing. 

Tragically. Morning Wolffe. What’s up?

Comet has been harassing me to remind you about the book. The one with the birds.

You stare at the screen blankly for a moment, You mean The Raven Emperor series?

How should I know? Probably.

You giggle, Wolffe, there aren’t any actual birds in that book.

I really don’t care, sarad.

Well, someone’s grumpy this morning.

You’d be grumpy too if your twin brother stole all of your caf.

What, the GAR doesn’t give you a caf supply.

The GAR wouldn’t give us armor if we didn’t need it to win the war.

You can hear him rolling his eyes across the text message, and it’s kind of impressive. 

Anyway

Me and the boys are going to 79s this evening

Coming?

I wish.

I have a building that I need to appraise, and it’s something like 200 apartment buildings. 

I’m going to be busy until midnight

🥺

Ah.

Well, next time then.

You wait a moment for Wolffe to say something else, but he went offline soon after.

I want to go on a date with you. Your finger hovers over the send button, before you sigh and shake your head, deleting the message. 

Wolffe would never be interested in you. Not like that.

You just have to be happy with his friendship.

And here you thought ‘love unrequited’ was just something in the trashy romance novels you read in secret.

You allow yourself to wallow for a whole 30 seconds, and then you remember that you still have to shower and eat breakfast, and you toss your comm on your bed as you hurry into the fresher.

The chat with Wolffe means that you don’t have time for a proper breakfast, especially if you give yourself time enough to shower properly, but you think it was worth it. He’s Wolffe, after all.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re scrambling out of your fresher, pulling your wet hair into a messy knot at the back of your head, and you hurry back into the kitchen. 

In your rush you accidentally pour some hot water over your thumb as you fill your travel mug with the water, and you release a pained hiss. “I don’t have time for this,” You say to the empty apartment. You eye the blister critically, and decide that it’s not worth the hassle of treating it

Quickly, but carefully, you finish putting your breakfast together, and you hurry out the front door.

Your boss wants you at the complex by 6 am.

And luckily, you make it. By the skin of your teeth, maybe, but you’re still on time.

“You’re almost late,” the stern looking older man scolds.

“The keyword there being almost,” You counter, as you look up at the building, “This is the Meridian Complex?”

“Yep.”

“You spent how much on this?”

“2.5 Million Credits,” He sounds proud about it.

“This is a death trap.” You point out, cringing as a fake shutter falls off a window three stories up.

“It just needs a little work.” Your boss says, and then he pauses, “You are up to date on your vaccines, right?”

“Ha. You’re hilarious.” You pull your datapad out of your car, and glance at the information on the screen, “You have the keys?”

“Yup, all of the door codes are set to 00000.”

“Noted.” You make a note on the datapad, “After you.”

Half an hour later, you realize that your conservative estimation of this taking until midnight was far, far too generous. This is going to take days.

You look around at the rotting floorboards, and at the graffiti and holes on the walls, and you sigh. At least the paycheck is going to be really nice.

“Hey! I think I found a half decent apartment!” Your boss calls from down the stairs, “Second floor, 209. We can use this as a staging room.”

“Coming!” You shake your head at the sheer mess, and half wonder if you could message Wolffe and ask for the Wolfpack to help. You laugh softly at the idea, the boys would be more than happy to help, you’re sure, but it’s not realistic.

You start up the stairs.

But, if he was willing to help, you could spend more time with Wolffe, which would be a win.

A weird noise makes you slow to a stop, and you pause, tilting your head to listen better.

“What are you doing?” Your boss asks from the top of the stairs.

“...I heard something-” You trail off as there’s a cracking noise under your feet.

Your boss’ face goes gray. “Hurry!”

You go to take one more step, when the cracking noise returns. And when you put your foot down on the stair…it keeps going.

You don’t even have time to scream as the staircase collapses under you.

The last thing you see as you topple backwards is your boss’ horrified face, and you hear a shout of your name.

Wolffe is not having a super day.

On top of the fact that Fox stole all of the Caf and the fact that he’s been confined in his office doing paperwork all morning, the fact that the Wolfpack’s pretty sarad won’t be joining them at 79s tonight just shoved him into an awful mood.

Nights out are always better when she’s with them.

He glowers at the various documents that need his signatures. He should be grateful. He’s not Marshal Commander. He’s seen the amount of work that Cody, Fox, and Bly have on a daily basis.

He’s lucky that he is only a commander and he only has this much work to do.

…yeah, nope. That didn’t help.

He rests his head on his hand as he taps his stylus against the table. “When Alpha said that a command position was worth it, he was a filthy liar.” Wolffe announces to the room at large.

He should make Comet do this paperwork in exchange for the free time he’ll need to read that book series he’s going to borrow-

Wolffe’s thought process is cut off when his office door slides open and Comet bursts in, “Commander!”

“What is it?”

“Sarad is in the hospital.”

Wolffe’s heart drops into his stomach. He drops all of his work and grabs his helmet, “Which hospital?”

“Coruscant General. Sir, where-?”

“I’m going to go check on her, of course.” He pushes past Comet, “You’re in charge until I get back.”

“Yes, sir.” Comet pauses, “Let us know how she is?”

“I will,”

The trip to Coruscant General doesn’t take long, Wolffe is able to walk the distance. And, as luck has it, no one stops him when he enters the hospital properly.

“Can I help you sir?” The nurse at reception asks.

“I hope so,” Wolffe replies, before he offers her name, “I was told that she’s here.”

The woman nods, “Are you the husband?”

Wolffe pauses for half a second, “Yes, that's right.” He lies.

She nods again, “On the fifth floor, room 517.”

“Thank you.” He marches over to the lift, and presses the button for the fifth floor. Wolffe’s mind is whirling. How was she hurt? How badly? Does he need to set up a guard rotation for her?

Did someone attack her? Does he need to get the guard involved?

The lift comes to a stop and he steps out, and heads to the nurses station. He offers her name once more, and again, lies about being her husband, and he’s pointed in the right direction.

The door is shut, and Wolffe lightly knocks on the door. He doesn’t get a response, but he pushes the door open anyway.

“Sarad?” The lights are dimmed, but not so much that he’s not able to see her.

She looks…bad.

Covered in bruises and bandages. Various machines attached to her, monitoring her heart rate and blood pressure and giving her IV medication.

“Oh, cyare.” Wolffe walks over to her, and looks her over. Every inch of her is covered in angry looking bruises or cuts. “What happened?” Gently, very gently, he brushes a strand of hair out of her face.

A lot of the tension he hadn’t realized that he was carrying drains from his body now that he’s sure that she’s not dying or dead.

It’s kind of funny, in a way.

Sure, he’s always known that his sarad was important to him. He’s not been blind to the fact that she’s always on his mind and that he never isn’t thinking about her. But he didn’t know just how important until this very moment.

Wolffe’s fingers linger on her cheek, and he’s startled when he hears a soft moan from her. “Sarad?”

Hazy eyes peer up at him, confused, “‘lffe?”

“Yeah,” He smiles at her, “It’s me. How are you feeling?”

“...wh’re?”

“You’re at Coruscant General, you were hurt, do you remember?”

Her fingers flex, and Wolffe takes her hand in his free hand, “Stairs,” She mumbles, some of the haze leaving her voice, “The stairs collapsed-”

“Unlucky,” Wolffe says quietly, as he sets his helmet on the side table and then sits in a seat, “How are you feeling?”

She’s quiet as she considers his question, “...fuzzy.” She finally says.

He chuckles, “I’m not surprised, by the look of it, you’re on some good pain medicine.”

“Wolffe?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you in the hospital? Are you hurt?” She asks, her brow furrowed as she tries to puzzle it out.

“Come on, Sarad. You know the hospital doesn’t treat clones.” Wolffe brushes his fingers across her lips, “I’m here for you, of course.” He pauses, “I also let everyone believe that I’m your husband. Sorry.”

She hums, “I don’t mind.”

“That I lied?”

“Being your wife.” She clarifies, “Sounds like fun. Let’s do that.”

Wolffe laughs, “I think we’re skipping a couple of steps, Sarad.”

She hums again, her eyes fluttering closed, “Don’ care. Love Wolffe.” She mumbles.

His breath catches in his throat for a moment. And then a wide grin crosses his face. “Are you still awake, cyare?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I love you.” He whispers into her ear, and then he presses a light kiss to her temple, “You’re not going to remember this when you sober up, and that’s okay. I’ll just tell you again and again, as many times as you need.”

She smiles at him, the drugs hitting her hard again, “Stay?”

“For as long as you want me, sarad. Promise.”

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 7. The All Hands Meeting

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

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

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

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

Word Count: 4.4K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

... and then, all hell breaks loose.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tess scoffs. "Really Frank? Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @gwendibleywrites @brittmb115 @joeldjarin @drewharrisonwriter

@littlebunnybigheartfics @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @quicax3 @casa-boiardi

@amyispxnk @untamedheart81 @paleidiot @laurrrra @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@bbiophiliaa @thewiigers (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

[abbyslev]

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺- 𝑨𝑶𝑻 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳𝑺 + 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬

A/N: hi guys! sorry for posting this so late, i just got around to finishing it. i am working on some other things, and as always feedback will be appreciated!! thank you all for reading and i hope everyone has a great day!

WARNINGS: literally pure smut !!

HANGE 

LOVES THIGHS

would die in between some if they could 

service dom 

literally down to try anything if you’re down 

100%  into teasing you 

when hange gets  stressed at work… PREPARE FOR THAT STRAP 

#1 pussy eater 

overstimulation god

likes to restrain your hands 

does not like quickies but will participate 

into lap dances 

the bra stays on AND ITS HOT 

RIDING HANGES ABS IM USNSIDJSUKAS

into thigh riding too 

is vocal

into praising (and degrading but you didn’t hear that from me) 

they press their forehead on yours and makes the strongest eye contact im jejsieksks

loves to trace random shapes with their tongue 

panty stuffing and sniffing 100%

aftercare is so sweet they love cleaning you up and they just fall asleep right after you do </3

MIKASA

not an ass, thighs or tits person, just loves you for you <3

LOVESSSSS giving but will not deny receiving AFTER you have had your turn 

into pulling hair like when she eats you out and you pull her hair!!! YES!!!!!

wears the cutest lingerie 

loves when you say her name it just sounds so pretty 

blushes over everything it’s so <33

will finger you until she dies 

making you suck her fingers makes her go wild 

pretty vocal!!! mostly small whimpers 

will die eating you out she loves it 

loves to run her hands up and down your stomach with her long nails sending shivers all over you

her hair gets all messy 

switch, mostly top but she has her moments 

BEGS

not into quickies, she prefers to take her time on you and enjoy all of you 

praise, refuses to degrade you</3

strap god 100%

literally so sweet will clean you up and make sure you’re comfortable when you guys are done :(

ANNIE

thighs thighs thighs thighs thighs 

she sleeps on them like allllll the time 

SHES SO INTO SPIT BYE 

degrading god 

yes pls :D

loves teasing 

seeing you squirm and beg makes her go crazy 

hearing her name following a string of curse words when you reach your peak makes her smile against you so hard

EATS PUSSY LIKE A GOD HELLO

depending on her mood, she’ll keep her sports bra on and it’s fucking HOT.

ughhhhh when she’s angry/ frustrated yk you’re in for a wild ride 

can go as many rounds as you want 

will always pleasure you before herself

“you’re so good for me.”

makes you ride her like crazy 

that nose is GODLY to sit on

grabs your thighs and leaves nail marks 

into thigh riding 

will always top idc 

she’s minimal when it comes to aftercare, she just makes sure you’re ok and cleans you up :D

SASHA

if you try and tell me this woman can’t eat pussy go ahead and log off for me

like one of the best pussy eaters out here ong 

ASS AND PUSSY FOR DAYS!!!!

into food play

she’s so sweet and refuses to degrade you 

“you taste so sweet, baby.”

her hair gets all messy from you pulling it

she’s so into it bye

switch 

loves when you go down on her and tell her how good she taste 

LOVES SCISSORING LIKE CRAZY 

will pleasure you before herself ofc ofc 

loves eye contact 

will pour honey on your thighs/ stomach and lick it off while keeping strong eye contact UGHSHSNSUSJSJS

loves keeping you from touching yourself like maam pls

will also die eating pussy

amen 

quickies are acceptable 

aftercare queen like will get you water and clean you up and talk your ear off until you’re asleep 

YMIR

do we really have to say it

tits 

literally the god of degrading like HELLO

“stupid slut” while her long fingers are shoved down your throat IM JENSHMSS

will tease you until you can no longer take it 

will make you cum 6 times in one second 

is always a top

spit playyyyyyyy

overstimulation is her favorite 

quickies are some of her favorites 

loves eating you out like a starved man 

makes you beg like it’s the last thing she does 

HER SMIRK WHEN SHE SISNDUKSJ

will restrain you if you don’t listen 

yes chef

will use her hands as your personal bra 

eye contact for days 

loved kissing you doesn’t matter what she’s doing she wants to kiss you </3

fingers you in like 5 different positions 

will go 100 rounds she doesn’t care

lowkey good at aftercare she knows how tired you can get <3

YELENA

 everyone grab your bibles and repent rn

ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS ASS

loves spanking 

brat tamer 

strap game on 100 

will tease you the whole day like stop it????

leaves her shirt unbuttoned a bit …..RAAAAAA

knows you like when she wears that damn suit 

her hair gets all messy from you tugging on it and she gets all your lipgloss on her IMBEISJUS

will eat you out anywhere she does not care 

degrading like a mf 

“such a fucking slut”

just for you lena <3

fingering game also on 100

will overstimulate you in a second 

will go as many rounds as your body can take

sex in her office >>>>

loves whispering in your ear and then kissing your jaw 

leaves hickies everywhere 

“so everyone can know your mine”

yes PLEASE NOW

will hold eye contact while playing with you through your soaking underwear with a stupid smirk on her face 

chokes you OH MY GODHELP ME

spits into your mouth and almost dies watching you swallow it 

keeps your panties sorry i don’t make the rules 

loves when you sit on her lap and ride her 

THIGH RIDING >>>>

“you made a mess baby…” 

buys you matching lingerie sets NGHHH

heavy breathing and grunts 

loves when you moan in her ear 

she loves hearing her name come out of her mouth 

edging god

fucks you dumb ANYWHERE 

top<3

tbh her aftercare is so good she loves cleaning you up and thinking how else she can fuck you next time

[thewxtchwhowrites]

Hola, oke no sorry haha. I can’t speak Spanish, just a bit hehe.

I don’t know if you write for request but because I wanted to say Hola I think about an idea now. What about Bucky taking you out for Dinner and your ex is there as well and tries to convince you he is the right one but Bucky is such a sweet gentle man and super protective?

Thank you in advance, even when you don’t write it hehe.💕

Ha. Did you think I forgot about you? Well no darling, it wasn't like that.

Here you have (late, but sure) and at once I took the opportunity to do therapy writing this. I was dumped about seven months ago by my partner, when I received your request, so I thank you very much for the idea, although it took me a while to prepare it.

I really hope you like it and it's what you expect, I interpreted it this way.

summary: you finally come out of an emotional sadness and decide to go out with Bucky to dinner, without thinking about who you would end up running into.

words: 3219

Beautiful dividers by @cafekitsune

You were carefully walking down the stairs and your heels started making noise as they hit the steps, causing Bucky and Steve who were talking near the door to turn to look at you.

Bucky looked nervous, and it was no wonder, the truth is that he had not been on a date in more than 70 or 80 years, with everything that had happened in his life these last few years since the 40s.

Steve seemed to calm him down, when the blond turned to look at you he had a smile on his lips, he looked like a proud older brother.

As you walked down the stairs you wondered how you had really gotten to this day, and the truth is that the whole series of events had been very convoluted and fun...

Or at least now that you were feeling better.

You had been depressed for a couple of months and it was because your boyfriend with whom you had been in a relationship for five years had broken up with you overnight with a simple message:

"I can't keep doing this, forgive me."

Your eyes began to fill with tears as you continued reading as best you could:

"I owe you what I am today. And it hurts me to tell you this, I don't know, I feel like I'm really screwing up by leaving all these years behind." Your tears no longer let you see, your vision was blurred. "But I want to make that decision and continue alone from now on. Maybe we can be friends in the future."

Bastard. You thought to yourself, it was obvious that there was something strange about his behavior after you both had your last movie date, but you decided not to listen to your intuition even though Natasha had warned you.

"I don't know, honey, I think you should be prepared…" Natasha sat on your bed and sighed, taking one of your pillows in her hands, and noticing one of the photographs you had on your wall where you and your now ex boyfriend ex-boyfriend, were at a Coney Island fair with ice cream on your faces.

"But Nat…" You said while shaking your head. You were delusional, without a doubt. "We've been together for five years, I don't think we'll break up. He's just a little stressed because his business isn't going well."

There were times where your ex-boyfriend would disappear for weeks, claiming that he was busy working or trying to run his business (a music store that his grandfather had owned for many years) and sometimes when you logged on to social media after work, you would notice that he was still online sharing posts or tweeting, although he didn't respond to your chat.

Sometimes he'd leave you on 'read' or sometimes he just wouldn't seem to open the chat, which was… strange.

Until it happened.

Even the final message of that long paragraph of excuses had a rather late apology that said:

"I'm very sorry, not only for the moment in which I'm telling you all this. But also for what I've put you through and how I treated you, not speaking to you for weeks and then coming to you to write all this shit."

That last message definitely led to long hours of crying, especially at night in your room at the Avenger Compound, not wanting to leave your room, maybe just to eat with everyone or for missions, and then return to your room.

You were even more temperamental during missions, you hit harder and you were even more reckless, which Bucky noticed immediately, he knew that attitude and hatred.

The first thing Nat, Wanda, and Maria Hill did when they found out was bring you ice cream and have a girls' night out, which ended relatively well, at least until Wanda put on a movie and the guy's name was your ex's.

A couple of nights later you heard a soft knock on your door, you were crying as quietly as you could and you thought that maybe you had woken up Steve or Nat who were sleeping in the adjoining rooms, when you got up and opened the door, it was Bucky.

"Bucky?" You asked with some confusion.

"I… I brought you this." Bucky took a cookie out of his pants pocket, when you took it you could feel that it was broken. "I accidentally sat on the cookie while I was on my way here on the motorcycle, sorry."

That, even if it was something simple, made you laugh and maybe it was the first time in five fucking months that you laughed sincerely and not in a forced way.

Bucky after you thanked him, he nodded softly with a shy smile on his lips and left saying goodnight.

You look at Bucky's face as a smile began to form on his lips as you walked down the stairs, it seemed like he saw the most beautiful thing on the planet and he even had a small bouquet of flowers for you in his hands.

As soon as you finished walking down the stairs, Bucky approached you at the bottom of them.

"You look…" Bucky started to say, but stayed silent.

"Do I look too dressed up? Is too much?" You said nervously, touching your hair and ironing your dress with your hands at the level of your stomach, it had been Nat and Wanda's idea to groom you as if you were a little doll even though you weren't totally used to it.

“No, you look like an angel…” Bucky interrupted you. He continued to look at you with those blue eyes, it was a kind, sweet look. You felt your cheeks redden and you let out a nervous laugh.

Steve raised his eyebrows at such a compliment, and since you had your back to Steve, he took the opportunity to give Bucky a thumbs up.

"Oh, this is for you." Bucky gave you the small bouquet of flowers that you took carefully, they smelled delicious.

“James, you didn't have to do it." you said in a whisper, looking between the flowers and Bucky.

You didn't remember that a man had ever given you flowers before, your ex in itself was not a person to give you that type of details and you, sometimes, didn't allow yourself to receive them either.

But for some reason with Bucky, the fact that he gave you those details, it felt different.

“It's true.” He put his hands in the pocket of his black pants, nodding at your comment. "I didn't have to, but I wanted to do it."

That comment caught your attention.

Steve patted both of you gently like a father and opened the door to the compound, smiling.

"Have fun…" Steve looked at you and nodded his approval as if you were his little sister. "But not too much."

Steve looked at Bucky when he said that last sentence, that was definitely a warning to him, Bucky just shrugged and let you take his arm as they walked to the motorcycle to Izzy's.

Honestly, you don't know how it happened, but it happened.

You began to spend more time with Bucky as the days and even weeks went by, first he asked you for help to play a prank on Sam by painting Nightwing as if it were a stingray and recording it to show in the group chat that you all shared.

Then you would help him with technological issues or you would end up sitting in the compound's cinema watching old movies while you listened to him tell you things about how things were in those times.

And maybe some embarrassing stories about Steve.

You discovered that he was chivalrous, opening the door for you and even letting you in first by placing either of his two hands just under your back in a protective manner. Even when you had to take something somewhere he offered himself, not allowing you to do it.

Including the bowl of popcorn, because he didn't want you to get burned.

You thought that sometimes Bucky was an exaggerator, but you began to notice that he did things that even your ex-boyfriend had stopped doing after being together for a while.

When you and Bucky went out on the street, he always offered you his right arm, since he felt a little insecure offering you his left arm, the mechanical one. However, that insecurity started to disappear and then he didn't care which arm you grabbed as long as you held his arm when you walked.

The times when neither of you could sleep and you stayed talking, whether in your bed or his, he didn't fall asleep while you were talking about those topics that you were both passionate about, nor did he change the subject, he just watched you with attention.

Bucky even remembered the things you had said to him a couple of months or weeks ago and that you didn't even remember what you had said to him.

You were healing little by little, starting to be you again.

And somehow he was healing too.

If you were at one of Tony's parties or maybe at a mission meeting, sometimes you would look at Bucky when he wasn't looking at you, and the other way around would also happen, and if you caught each other looking, both would just smile like a couple of fools and look away.

One night you heard a soft knock on your door, you recognized that soft knock, when you opened your door it was Bucky again, but he looked different tonight.

"Hi..." Bucky said slowly, seeming a little nervous, his right hand resting on the frame of your door, trying to look casual. "I wanted to invite you to dinner, well, it's not really a dinner."

You could notice and see Bucky's nervousness when trying to say things as he had (probably) rehearsed them in front of the bathroom mirror and he added:

"Or yes, maybe it is, I don't know."

You interrupted his rambling with a smile on your lips, gently raising a hand to the level of your chest.

"Yes..." That's what you said, you noticed how his eyes softened at the fact that you had agreed. "Yes, I'd like to go."

He nodded repeatedly and sighed in relief, letting out a soft chuckle.

"So Friday at eight sounds good to you?" Bucky was clearing his throat, trying to hide his excitement that you had accepted dinner, you nodded. "Okay, I'll see you on Friday."

Bucky quickly kissed your cheek, wished you goodnight, and left without stopping smiling like a fool.

When you two arrived at Izzy's, Bucky greeted Leah with a smile, she seemed surprised but happy that she now finally saw him with someone other than Mr. Nakajima, especially seeing you walk in with him.

You and Bucky sat at one of the tables and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you, but you weren't sure after all there were more people than usual today, it was Friday.

After a couple of laughs, drinks, Asian food and bad jokes, a few caresses on your hand from his you noticed out of the corner of your eye that someone was approaching the table and you swore it was a waiter.

But it was your ex.

“Y/N…” Your ex said in a firm voice, looking from Bucky reluctantly and then back to you. "What are you doing here with him?"

The audacity of this idiot. You thought as you heard those words come out of your ex's mouth.

"The real question is, what are YOU doing here?" You responded rudely as a frown began to form on your forehead.

"So you're the… man who broke her heart." Bucky told him in a calm voice, but he was really trying to stop himself from smashing your ex-boyfriend's face into the pretty little sushi boat that was on the table, because he didn't want to ruin your night.

Bucky slowly stood up from the chair, making your ex jump a little, maybe he was nervous with Bucky's presence.

And the truth is he should be nervous.

Bucky was quite tall, strong and even if he didn't have a vibranium left arm, he would have enough strength to change your ex-boyfriend's health status to deceased if he tried to go far with you.

And on top of that he had to avoid at all costs breaking the second rule that he had agreed upon with Dr. Raynor in therapy: No one gets hurt.

Your ex scrunched his face in disapproval at Bucky's words, not believing what he was hearing, but now you understood many things, you had been receiving notifications on social networks, especially from Instagram indicating that your ex occasionally looked at the stories you published.

Part of you didn't understand why you continued to have him on Instagram, perhaps because you used that social network very little, but whatever, now you understood what your ex was doing there.

"What? N-No, I was confused…" Your ex started to speak, he even tried to get a little closer to you, but he couldn't since Bucky gently moved his left arm that was covered by a glove. "Now my mind is more than clear and I want us to go back Y/N."

Bucky tried to talk to him by placing his right hand on his shoulder.

"Look, son…" But your ex just moved, removing Bucky's hand from his shoulder.

"Don't call me son, we are the same age, pal." Your ex responded aggressively, while rolling his eyes, looking back at you.

Very few knew that Bucky was actually 106 years old, which if you had been in another situation you would have found it funny.

"Look, I don't know what you've been through in these eight or nine months, but she and I are together, and she's not interested in getting back with you or anyone else." Bucky spoke in a fairly firm tone of voice, being respectful.

You began to feel anxious, you felt your stomach turn not only from nervousness, but from the embarrassment you were experiencing in the establishment, many of the people at the adjacent tables were looking towards you.

"Are you really going to throw away all these years together with me, by being with him?" Your ex-boyfriend spoke softly, as if he was trying to manipulate you. "Y/N? I know you haven't forgotten me, you still love me, I know that."

You looked between both men, there was some doubt in your eyes or that's what Bucky thought he saw in you, maybe it was embarrassment.

You got up from your seat and enter the bathroom of the place with tears in your eyes, on many occasions you had dreamed of something similar, dreams that ended in nightmares that you tried to ignore some nights, many ended with your ex calling you different things like 'bitch', 'whore' or 'ungrateful witch' while throwing things at you or shaking you.

You ended up waking up drenched in sweat many nights, breathing heavily and then crying silently until sleep overcame you, although those tears and nightmares ended up being silenced by Bucky on more than one occasion while he slept next to you, stroking your hair or hugging you in his arms.

You had entered the bathroom and locked yourself inside one of the stalls, you were hyperventilating, you didn't think the wound would reopen again, you really thought you were over that, you didn't know how much time had passed, you were just sitting on the toilet seat with tears in your eyes.

Until your train of thought stopped when you heard the door to the women's bathroom open wide, hearing soft footsteps coming in and seeming to have stopped near the mirror.

"Y/N?" It was Leah's voice, it sounded soft because the bathroom had quite an echo. "Are you okay, do you need anything?"

"He's gone?" You asked shakily, leaving the bathroom stall, as soon as Leah saw you with your makeup smeared with tears, she gently tilted her head, giving you an empathetic look and approached you.

Leah nodded at your question.

"Yes, between Mr. Nakajima, Bucky and I, we took that being out of the restaurant." Leah rolled her eyes, she reached into the pockets of her apron for a handkerchief with a couple of flowers embroidered on it and wiped your face. "I really thought James was going to break his face, I was already thinking about what to replace the restaurant furniture with… they are made of old wood."

Both laughed at the comment, although you also imagined Mr. Nakajima, who had a bad temper, pushing your ex out of the restaurant door.

He was a man with a quite volatile temperament, like Bucky's.

When you returned to the restaurant you didn't see Bucky, he was outside leaning on his motorcycle, you said goodbye to Mr. Nakajima who was also leaving the restaurant with you and of course to Leah, thanking both.

Mr. Nakajima opened the door for you and let you out first.

"Pretty ladies first" Mr. Nakajima said with a kind smile, which made you laugh, and that made Bucky turn his head to the door of the establishment and approach you.

"Are you ok?" Bucky gently took your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

You looked into his eyes and you could feel that he was still upset by your ex's attitude, in fact, he seemed a little uncomfortable, perhaps remembering your look of doubt.

You nodded silently. You had a thoughtful look again.

"Honey…" Bucky began to speak softly, lowering his hands to his sides. It was the first time he had called you that pet name since you had started talking and going out. "I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with."

You remained silent, listening to what he had to say.

"I have nightmares at night, I have anger issues, I'm 106 years old…" Bucky chuckled, looking away from your eyes for a moment to see a couple of people crossing the street during the lonely night. "Even other problems, especially because of my past, so I will totally understand if you want to get back with him."

You didn't know what your expression really was, but Bucky seemed surprised as he looked back at you.

"What? I said something wrong?" Bucky asked, maybe you looked at him like he was crazy.

"I'm really going to have to talk to Dr. Raynor." You said nodding with a smile on your lips.

Bucky looked at you confused, he didn't understand what the mention from his psychologist that he was seeing it had to do with this conversation.

“Oh please…” You rolled your eyes, sometimes you forgot that Bucky was born before penicillin. "It means that I'd be crazy if you think I'm going to choose my ex. I like you, James B-"

Bucky leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours and bringing his hands back to your face, your eyes instinctively closed, enjoying the kiss which became more intense and then you both separated, gasping for air, without saying a word...

You two now knew how the other felt.

[milaisreading]

Good day~

Sorry for sending you my request during submission box, Tumblr glitched. So I resend this. As I said, I reeeeeally like your blue lock headcanons! Bullock manager is such an adorable idea. So if you don't mind, can I as you for some more headcanons about blue lock boys simping for their manager?

Have a great day, I wish you a lot of inspiration!~

Thanks for the request! No need to apologize, also sorry in advance I can usually only write HCs with scenarios, soo this might be long. Hope u enjoy it🩷

Pairing: Blue Lock x Reader

Warning ⚠️: none in particular tbh. Reader uses she/her here and manga spoilers Ig

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Today was like any other at Blue Lock, you had Ego roasting everyone, (Y/n) and Anri trying to get him to eat something healthy and the boys doing their own thing with training. By now it was lunch time and the players along with (Y/n) were sent to eat as Anri and Ego went through some papers and plans for the upcoming trainings, as well as the match with the U-20 team.

'I am so hungry... Bachira kept me away from eating the whole morning. Why did he ask me to watch his dribbling even?!'

The girl blinked as she walked towards the cafeteria, cringing as she heard loud screaming from her friends.

"I am not dealing with this today. I think Ego-san has left some unattended yakisoba in the fridge." The girl said with a bittersweet smile. As much as they were annoying at times, she held the team close to her heart.

'They are good guys... but I am not dealing with their shenanigans today.'

Now the cafeteria wasn't like this the whole time, since 20 minutes ago it was very quiet and the boys were honestly minding their own business. Well that was until Nagi logged into his phone and saw a rather peculiar post. He raised his eyebrow in disgust as he read the caption on the post.

'Going to meet this cutie soon🩷'

"How did Oliver Aiku get a picture of our manager?" Nagi whispered to Reo, who was sitting next to him. The question caused his friend to spit out his drink and look at Nagi in shock and confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"He posted this... now that I look at the picture more, it could be the one when she went to help out during a JFU press conference."

"Give me that!"

Nagi let Reo take his phone, while he was seething on the inside.

'Now I regret not sneaking off that day. With my frame nobody would have gotten a picture of her.'

"This can't be for real... Oliver Aiku, the biggest player Japan witnessed!" Reo groaned, catching the attention of Aryu and the former Team Z members.

"What is it with Oliver Aiku?" Aryu asked, walking over to the table.

"Don't tell me you are afraid of playing against him." Chigiri teased.

"It's not that... just look." Reo groaned, showing Aryu the post. The boy stopped playing with the ends of his hair when he read the post, looking in horror at the pro-player's post.

"Not him of all people! We need to keep (Y/n) as far away as possible! He is too ugly to be in her presence. "

"I know! But how?"

"This is such a hassle... can I just hit him in the head with the ball or something?"

"What is this about (Y/n)? And what does Aiku have to do with her?" Baro questioned, the cafeteria now completely silent when they mentioned the girl's name.

"Oliver Aiku seems to have some interest in her. Look." Aryu sighed, giving Baro the phone. The long haired boy sat down as what was left of Team Z approached them.

"What do you mean? How does he even know about her?" Bachira pouted, while Kunigami and Gagamaru were on high alert.

"This isn't good, we can't let that bastard near her." Isagi added as Chigiri nodded his head.

"Especially with his history with women... Yeah, (Y/n) is way better off not knowing him." Otoya added, a little annoyed that the pro-player knew of their manager.

"So what's the plan? It's not like all of us can stay around her all the time."

"Are we fighting?" Kurona and Karasu came, curious as to what they are supposed to do.

"We can't really do that. There will be a lot of cameras, and with Oliver Aiku being as popular as he is, they will follow every move." Yukimiya said, adjusting his glasses as the rest groaned. Rin kept quiet as he searched for the said post to see it with his own eyes, and sure enough it was there. What made it worse in Rin's eyes was that even his own brother, Itoshi Sae liked it. That pretty much set a blaze of anger off and Rin got up from his seat.

"Well that's the only option we have. Some of us will be on the bench or be called for a switch. We need to keep that guy away from (Y/n)." Rin said to the group, who all nodded their heads.

"Alright then! It's settled, we are doing our best to win against the U-20 and keep Aiku away." Isagi said after he finally calmed Bachira down.

"Of course. Can you imagine that asshole near (Y/n)?" Baro tsked, not liking that image in the slightest.

"Right! (Y/n) is so sweet and kind, Aiku is totally not for her." Aryu sighed as the others nodded along.

"Right, she is suited for someone like me." Otoya added suddenly, earning glares from his fellow teammates.

"Hell no! (Y/n) doesn't even know you that well! I am more her type, she is so calm and collected, perfect for me!" Bachira said, sending a warning glare to the white/green-haired boy.

"Her type? Bachira you are rough and wild, there is no way (Y/n) will want to be with you. Me on the other hand, I am the perfect gentleman." Chigiri said smugly. Kunigami rolled his eyes at the redhead's comment along with Gagamaru.

"Then I am the perfect candidate, also physically I am superior too, who else will protect her when it's necessary."

"Now when we talk about physique, I am far superior than you are. My queen would be much happier with me." Baro said, getting into Kunigami's face.

"Well, (Y/n) might not be into muscles. Besides, with the way she is always so kind and sweet to me, I am sure I am winning."

Isagi's comment irritated Rin and the younger Itoshi got into his face now.

"You winning next to me? We all know the best striker wins here, and that is me. Keep your hands off of her."

"You all are acting as if I am not in the clear win here, after all I am the richest. I could offer (Y/n) anything her heart desires." Reo added with a pout as Nagi shook his head.

"I think she would prefere a calm and quiet life. So I am the ideal partner there, you lose."

"Nagi, shut up!"

"I think (Y/n) and I would be a good match too. She looks happy when talking to me." Gagamaru commented while his face turned red.

"That's in her glamorous nature, Gagamaru." Aryu added while sighing.

By now the whole cafeteria was in total chaos, a mix of arguments over who the better match for (Y/n) was or singing praises about the girl.

Outside, (Y/n) and Hiori were playing rock, paper, scissors on who will yell at them to stop.

"What even started the argument?" (Y/n) asked, sighing at her loss as the boy shook his head.

"I don't know. I was practicing my dribbling and then came to you." Hiori said, blushing a little at the closeness.

'She smells really sweet today~'

As the day of the U-20 and Blue Lock 11 match approached, (Y/n) grew more and more anxious, hoping the boys will be able to handle the pressure. The whole of Japan was watching and she did her best to be on the call as soon as one of her friends needed help. Barely paying attention to anyone outside of her team, (Y/n) never noticed how every time Aiku tried to approach her or how one of the boys, usually Baro or Kunigami would whisk her away or glare at the player.

[sparreaux]

Stop the Eviction!

As most of my followers know, my spouse and I (both disabled and living on a single income) have been fighting to stay in our rental home for months now. This started when our landlord decided to start using a local property management company who decided all back rent needed to be paid or we needed to leave. (Honestly, that part is fair as we owed quite a bit.)

This was, quite unfortunately, a few days after I had had a harrowing accident where I fell very hard and received a concussion, which has only added to our stress as it affected both my health physically and mentally as well as costing my short term memory. (I still cannot remember that night or the next week clearly) I have been struggling with managing my symptoms since.

We have striven to get the company their money at a detriment to our utilities and food bills, but we have been fortunate to receive so much help and support.

For the past several months, it's only gotten worse. The company had a court date we were never notified of (which had us judged as no shows so the company was free to break any repayment contract we had signed), added fees such as a pet deposit we paid when we moved into this house almost six years ago, legal fees for said court date, late fees that were never discussed before, extra fees from who knows where and basically have just been monthly harassing us with ten day eviction notices and even threatened us with the sheriff. Also they're claiming we didn't pay them on a certain month. Every time we thought we were on track, they'd pull something else. They've been rude and quite frankly, I would love to move to a different house if that was at all an option, but it's honestly not.

I had set up a gofundme, but since we've been paying everything we've got to back rent, our phones have been shut off for the time being and I am completely unable to log in to update or anything.

The management's company's ledger for us currently sits at $2,275.00. They are asking for at least $1000 before the end of the month, after we've already paid our monthly rent plus some. We have people that we can talk to on Monday, but unfortunately, nothing else until then.

I am also very, very behind on commissions. There are several that are almost finished, but my fibromyalgia has been badly flaring, making it extremely difficult to put out the results I want. That being said, if you do not mind waiting a few months, I will happily add you to my art commission list for whatever you'd like to donate to help us.

Tl;dR: Two disabled people with pets are trying not to be evicted. Will draw for donations.

Thank you so much for current and past support. I promise I am trying to get back to everyone who has helped, it is just taking time, more time than I expected. I am sorry and again, thank you.

0/$2275

C*shapp, P*ypal, V*nmo: duessa

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

That Fluff Alphabet is making me melt already 🥹 Shanks is my present comfort character ❤️ (and Sanji, of course, but I'm just requesting Shanks for now), and I would love to see your headcanons for:

Domestic

Hugs

Listening

No rush! Thank you as always for sharing your talented writing with us lil' mortals. We are unworthy 🫶

First one!! And it's our silly redhead??

I am squealing.

Only internally, though. Don't want to frighten the neighbors.

Anyway. Gonna post this, then get the Fluffy Alphabet Masterlist set up.

For my other asks, I have already logged the requests for Mihawk and Sanji and edited the main Fluffy Alphabet post accordingly.

D is for Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning and other such household chores?)

“The only way this ship would feel more like home would be if you came with me.”

Settling down by definition isn’t exactly in Shanks’s nature. He has always considered himself at home on the sea—but when your relationship gets serious, he’s going to do absolutely everything in his power to convince you to come with him.

Will literally get on his knees and beg if he has to. There’s no room for shame, he wants you with him and he’ll do anything to make it happen. So in that way, he is perfectly content with "settling down."

As far as chores go, he does his best. There are a lot of things that are difficult to do with only one hand, but he’s learned to make due in most respects, and he always wants to help as much as possible. Any partnership is supposed to be fifty-fifty, and if he can help with anything in any way, he's going to.

He’s a little scatterbrained, so his cabin tends to get a little cluttered on a semi-regular basis; but if it gets to the point that it’s a problem or he notices it’s bothering you, he’ll straighten up himself without being asked.

H is for Hugs (How do they like to hug you? How often?)

“Oh, nonsense, you can stay a bit longer.”

His primary love language is physical affection, so if you happen to be near him, he’ll have his arm around you in a second.

Pulling you to his side almost absently and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead or the crown of your hair, even if he’s in the middle of talking to someone else or otherwise occupied.

Constantly sneaking up behind you to wrap his arm around your waist because he thinks it’s just adorable when you jump in alarm and scold him or elbow him in the ribs for scaring you.

Absolutely refusing to let you go until he’s done hugging you, even if you have something you need to do, and probably pouting about it a bit after he does. Mostly all in good fun...but really, the more often you have your arms around each other, the better.

L is for Listening (How are their listening skills? Do they hang on your every word, or is it sort of in-one-ear-and-out-the-other?)

“Er…what was that, doll?”

Poor, poor easily distracted baby. He tries. He really does.

A lot of times things will go in one ear and out the other, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. He really doesn’t. He’s a bit scatterbrained, he has a rather large crew to run, and things do get overlooked or forgotten from time to time.

He always feels absolutely awful about it, will apologize endlessly even if you’re understanding.

But it's only the little things. Important things, dates like your birthday or your anniversary, little seemingly insignificant details about when you first met or first kissed or anything of that sort that even you might have forgotten? Those, he doesn’t forget, and he never will.

Actively listening, though—you’re going to get quite a few vacant stares, quite a bit of “Hmm?” or “Sorry, love, I was miles away,” accompanied with a guilty grin.

[callsignspark]

change your ticket home

a top gun maverick AU

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Sherrie McHone (fem!OC)

summary: After a successful business trip on the West Coast, two Wells Corporation engineers have problems getting back home. Thank god for Bradley Bradshaw, a man who is determined to make their hours waiting in the terminal as enjoyable as possible. And if he and his pretty travel companion (and colleague) get closer along the way? Well that’s just a bonus.

warnings: difficulties of being a woman in a male-dominated field, minor misogyny from coworkers, yearning, pining, Bradley being an absolute sweetheart, it's vaguely alluded to but Sherrie is named after the Steve Perry song, American Airlines bashing bc this fic is based on a real and horrible experience I had a few years ago. and yes, the title is from the one direction song.

word count: 9.8k | masterlist

note: happy saturday! this has been in the works for almost a year and I'm so thrilled to finally be sharing it! this is dedicated to @gretagerwigsmuse, who gave so many wonderful ideas and has continually been a cheerleader for this fic. happy birthday!

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 06:36 AM PST | San Diego, CA

“If I fake a heart attack, we can get out of this meeting, right?”

She looks over at Bradley sprawled in the uncomfortable café chair in his navy suit, his arm slung over the back of her chair. He’s down to just his crisp, white button-up, jacket, and tie abandoned within the first ten minutes of the call.

“Suck it up, we’re almost done.” She rolls her eyes. “And Martin knows you’re a supremely healthy thirty-two-year-old, so no, I don’t think that will work.”

“Sherrie…” His whine is cut off by her hand covering his mouth as she unmutes her microphone and mentally praises his decision to sit so close to her. Not having to pull out both laptops was just an additional perk on top of her ability to silence him.

“That’s correct, Sean. We got them to agree to a small batch trail run for the connectors. We’ll be working together on running them through environmental testing before committing to a full contract.”

“And why are they agreeing to that? Because frankly, it makes no sense to me why they would want to do that.”

Bradley straightens up, his eyes narrowing at the Teams box showing the older man’s initials. “Well, Sean, as Sherrie explained before. Harris hasn’t produced connectors like this before, and they’re interested in the test results, specifically the shock data. So they agreed to take on half the burden so they can use the information for their own use. If this works how we think it will, this will be a huge boost for their business, even if the patent is shared.”

She looks at him, half admonishment and half appreciation, always a little bit amazed when he had her back, no matter how many times he had done it. “The contracts team is drawing up the final agreements and negotiating with their team next week, so best case scenario is we have reports with usable data by the end of the summer. Worst case, it’ll drift into the middle of Q1.”

“That’s great work you guys did out there, thank you. Alright, I think that covers everything we had to talk about today. McHone, Bradshaw - have a safe flight back, and everyone have a good weekend!” Martin ends the call before anyone can add anything.

Bradley laughs. “God, he’s just as sick of Sean as I am. I can’t wait until he retires.”

“He’s not that bad; you’re just grumpy because you had to dress up for the staff meeting, and then Martin said cameras off today.”

“I am upset about that! I will be logging yet another suggestion that we should have casual Fridays and casual travel policy. But I’m more upset because he talks down to you all the time! Like you haven’t been carrying this department on your back since we started ten years ago!”

“Carrying is an exaggeration, Bradley.” She looks up from where she’s putting her laptop away. “I think you have time to change into something comfy before we board.”

“American Airlines Flight 2307 from San Diego to Charlotte, Boarding Group A can now board.”

“Or not.” She giggles as he groans, reaching over to pull her other air pod out of his ear. “Come on, it’s a long flight; you can sleep on the plane. Just be thankful you’re not wearing an underwire bra and heels.”

“I don’t know how you do that.” He mutters, shooing her away when she tries to pick up her carry-on, throwing it over his shoulder alongside his own.

“I don’t either. I’m going to get a massage when we get back to Boston.”

“Ohhh, a massage sounds nice.” He subtly sticks his elbow out for her grab, which she gratefully does, letting his tall frame guide her to their gate. “You know you didn’t have to wear heels, right?”

“You should shut up while I’m still thankful you yelled at Sean for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sherrie leans her head on his arm as they wait in the priority boarding line, one of the perks of traveling on the company’s dime. Normally, she would worry about being more professional while carrying her work bag that had the Wells Corporation logo embroidered on it, but she can’t bring herself to care. Yesterday’s meetings ran late, and the following client dinner had kept them out until almost midnight. After packing, going to bed late, and having to get up at 3:30AM to get to the airport, she was exhausted.

She takes her bag before they scan their tickets, not fighting when he grabs it again on their walk down the jet bridge.

“Where are you sitting again?”

“I’m in 16C.” She snorts at Bradley’s pout. “What? You knew we weren’t going to be sitting together.”

“But I’m going to be bored all the way back in 21D by myself.”

“Bud, you’re going to fall asleep in the first 30 minutes like you always do, and then I would be stuck for the next four hours with you leaning and drooling on me.”

Bradley whips his head around, “That is a baseless accusation. I do not drool!”

“You 100% definitely do drool, I’ve seen it.” Her smirk widens when his attempt to fight back is cut off by the flight attendants greeting them.

He ushers Sherrie on first, politely nodding to the flight crew before following her down the aisle, ducking down to whisper. “I do not drool.”

“You absolutely do drool. You also snore.”

She can feel eyes on them as they shuffle down the aisle, making eye contact with an older woman who raises her eyebrows in appreciation at the hunk of a man behind her.

This happens everywhere they go.

Bradley is such a gentleman, always opening doors and carrying her bags, that people never believe the two are just friends and coworkers. She’s had complete strangers fight with her when she says there’s nothing between them. Unable to accept that it’s just platonic.

As much as she wishes it could be more.

After years of learning all the little details of each other, she knows they would be good together. Their decade-long friendship allowing her to thoroughly analyze how well their personalities would mesh. They share the same beliefs and have the same interests; they even have overlapping friend groups. They’re made for each other.

On paper.

In reality, it will never happen.

She won’t let it.

“Is this good here?” Bradley’s question interrupts her weekly internal spiral; his big brown eyes blink at her over his shoulder as he puts her bag into the overhead compartment.

“That’s fine. Can you grab my water bottle out of the side pocket?

“Here ya go, ma’am. I’ll meet you by the water foundation when we land, okay?”

She nods, smiling as he hustles back to his seat to avoid a family almost flattening him in their haste to get to their assigned seats.

Her seat neighbors haven’t arrived yet, so Sherrie sits down without bothering to buckle, tucking her work bag under the row in front of her after pulling out her plane kit. Her pencil case from college that she’s repurposed to hold her headphones, phone charger, gum, hand sanitizer, and a few other small necessities.

Her phone buzzes as she’s storing her water bottle and the little bag away in the pocket of the seat in front of her.

Bradley is woken up by his seat neighbor hitting his arm as he reaches to grab a drink, nodding at the guy’s apologetic face before trying to get comfortable again. Alan talked way too much at dinner last night, and it was a struggle to stay awake during the project manager’s third round of gushing over how brilliant and profitable Sherrie’s proposal would be for both companies.

“Sir? This is for you, do you want it?” The muffled question is accompanied by someone shaking his shoulder. He peels open his eyes to see the flight attendant holding out two packets of Biscoff cookies.

His face must be confused enough for the short woman to take pity on him. “Your friend up there said these are your favorite and asked me to give hers to you.”

His heart warms up, taking the treats and saying thank you. He enjoys the cookies, washing them down with the ginger ale he also got, thinking about how well Sherrie knows him. He forces himself to wait for them to finish snack service before he gets up to use the restroom.

“Thank you.” Bradley revels in the way Sherrie jumps when he pops her headphone out, purposefully brushing his lips against her ear. “Hmmm, you were right, your seatmate is cute.”

She glares up at him, a smile threatening to break through. “Isn’t he? He fell asleep five minutes after take off, just like you.”

“Yet, another baseless accusation!”

“I heard you snoring.”

“You shouldn’t lie in front of small children.”

“His mom said he’s seven months old; I don’t think we have to be concerned about teaching him to lie while he’s still in a car seat.”

“Probably shouldn’t chance it, though. Say I don’t snore.”

“You just said I shouldn’t lie. Should probably go to the bathroom before you start holding up traffic.” She puts her headphone back in, wiggling her fingers at him before going back to reading on her phone.

It gives him the strangest sense of déjà vu.

Tuesday, March 25, 2005 | 10:43 AM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“…and he said you had already-” Bradley cuts himself off, realizing she can’t hear him. He chuckles; he should have known better than to just walk up and start talking.

He doesn’t know Sherrie McHone very well. They had taken all the freshman intro to engineering requirements together, and this year their classes had split into their chosen disciplines. His mechanical, hers electrical. But he knows her well enough to know that she can pretty much only be found without her headphones during class.

He remembers the first time they spoke last semester after he accidentally walked right into her. He had told Danny it’s because she’s so much shorter than him, but it’s really because he wasn't paying attention.

Sherrie had only taken one earpiece out to make sure he was okay before continuing onto her class, seamlessly weaving between upperclassmen as she shoved her headphone back in.

“Sherrie?” No response.

He lets out a tiny huff and checks his watch. Normally, he wouldn’t care that she’s clueless to his existence even as he’s right beside her, but he’s got a class soon, and he’s still two buildings away. So he does the only thing he can.

He pops her headphones out and steps back for fear of getting smacked.

Her head whips up, narrowing in on him freakishly fast. “What the fuck, Bradshaw?”

He’s surprised to learn that she knows his name.

“Sorry, Sherrie! I’ve been trying to talk to you for like five minutes, and you somehow haven’t noticed, but I’ve got class in 15 minutes, so I needed to get your attention.”

“Oh…” Her green eyes widen in surprise, the apples of her cheeks turning a light pink. “Sorry about that. What did you need? Wait. How did you find me?”

A fair question.

“Khondker told me where you sit.” He partially fibs.

All semester he had been watching her disappear after EE221, the one class they shared. It had taken him a while, but he was pretty sure he had found her secret study nook in the electrical engineering wing of the building. Their TA had only confirmed Bradley’s theory of where he could find his fellow sophomore.

“I don’t understand this last section we’ve been learning, and Khondker said you had already finished the homework and could help me. So could you?”

“He didn’t help you?” Sherrie raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“He tried.” Bradley scratches the back of his head, remembering how frustrated the patient man had been after his third attempt at explaining. “I just really don’t understand circuit loops. And he thought having a classmate explain it to me would make it stick. That or he was just so sick of me, he’s pawning me off.”

He watches her think, her pencil rapidly tapping against her notebook, making him nervous.

“I don’t want to be rude, but if you don’t understand current loops, I’m not sure how much help I can be. I understand the material, but I’m not a miracle worker.”

Her bluntness makes him smile. “I’m not expecting miracles, just help with the homework. If you have time.”

“Okay, just as long as you don’t get your hopes up too much.” She grabs a bright pink notebook and opens it up. “So, I’m usually free-”

“I don't want to interrupt, but I do have to get to class, so could we figure out a time later today?”

“Sure, I’ll be here until my class at four. Feel free to sit down if I’m not here; it just means I’m grabbing food.” He nods, backing away. “Wait! Bradley! Go down this hall and out the side door. You’ll be like halfway there already.”

“Awesome, thanks!” He starts to jog down the hallway, looking back to see her putting her headphones back in. Waving back when she smiles and wiggles her fingers at him before going back to her homework.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:16 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Our flight got delayed, and I’m hungry.”

Sherrie jumps, not expecting Bradley to get that close to her face three seconds after she exited the bathroom.

“Okay, I could eat. Where do you wan-”

“Auntie Anne’s.”

He’s walking away before she can even process what he said. She allows herself one second to appreciate the way he looks, walking through the concourse - navy slacks fitting his legs perfectly and all their bags thrown over his broad shoulders - before she’s clicking along after him.

“Bradshaw!” He freezes and turns, almost taking a lanky teenager out with her backpack. “Oh my god, Bradley! Be careful! You almost took that kid’s head off.”

His smile is sheepish as she shuffles them over to the wall. “I did not do that on purpose.”

She giggles and takes her backpack from his shoulder. “Yeah, I kinda figured. But you should have seen his face. His life flashed before his eyes. All sixteen years.”

“I can carry that Sherrie.”

“That’s okay, I got it. No! Bradley!”

He ignores her, smiling at her frustrated little stomp when he hands over her tan, cross-body purse out of her work bag. “You just carry that and make sure I don’t take out any toddlers or old ladies.”

“How am I supposed to do that if I’m ahead of you?” She snarks as he steers them toward the food stands.

“You’re smart; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Bradley laughs when she mocks him under her breath. “I can hear you, smartass.”

“You were meant to, Bradley.”

His heart flutters at the teasing wink she sends over her shoulder. It’s been twelve years since they became friends, and he still feels like that 20-year-old kid who was nervous to talk to the pretty red-headed girl he had a crush on.

He can feel eyes on them as her heels catch people’s attention, and he finds himself glaring at men who are shamelessly staring. Her shoes aren’t loud as they click along on the tile floor, but it’s hard to ignore the beautiful woman striding along in business casual.

It happens everywhere they go.

Sherrie has always been beautiful and painfully unaware of her effect on men. It never matters where they are - at work, the rare baseball game he forces her to attend, happy hour with their friends from school - she always catches attention. It doesn’t bother him because she never reciprocates, and he’s always the one to give her a ride back to her apartment.

Even if he wishes it was their apartment they were going to.

He’s watched her change over the last decade, seen her grow as a person. He’s risen through the ranks with her professionally, the two of them matching each other step for step with each promotion and raise. He’s publicly assured her that her hair still looks good as it’s deepened color with age, now less red and more auburn. He’s privately appreciated the way her body has changed, softer and curvier than when they were kids. Her wide hips are a frequent star in his daydreams.

It's the only place where they’ll ever be in a relationship.

He knows they’d be perfect together. Old friends who know each other so well they don’t even have to talk to communicate sometimes. Whose attitudes fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly in sync with each other. He knows it won’t happen. Can’t happen.

“Grab us a table, and I’ll get the food.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t fight her about paying, knowing this will be covered under their per diem. “Don’t forget my-”

“You’re frozen lemonade, I know!”

Bradley rolls his eyes at the hand that waves over her shoulder, settling their bags at a table and keeping an eye on Sherrie while sending an update to Mav.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard. He wants to tell his uncle the whole situation - that he’s not afraid to flirt with Sherrie.

“Everything okay?”

Bradley looks up to find her eyebrows furrowed as she sets a tray down.

“All good. Just sending my family an update that we’re delayed.”

She nods, sitting in the chair across from him. “Here’s your mini pretzel dogs, with mustard and a frozen lemonade. This is my pretzel nuggets, cheese sauce, and Diet Coke. Oh! And I got us these cinnamon sugar pretzels to share!”

“Thank you for remembering the mustard.”

“Bradley, when have I ever forgotten the mustard? Here, take some napkins.”

He shoves an entire mini pretzel dog in his mouth in lieu of answering her question, which they both know the answer to. Never. She has never forgotten his love for pretzels with mustard.

They eat in comfortable silence, the way only two friends can, occasionally dunking into each other's sauces as they scroll through their phones.

“Hey, how is your da- oh Bradley! You got mustard on your shirt!” His head snaps down to his shirt, groaning when he sees the yellow blob on his white button-up.

“Fuck! This is new, too!”

Sherrie dives into her bag, muttering about a stain stick, a triumphant noise escaping when she comes up successful. Scooting closer to him, she’s hit with a wave of nostalgia as she helps him clean his shirt.

Friday, April 6, 2007 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“You should’ve been gone, knowing how I made you feel!”

Sherrie’s head pops up from the lab reports she’s grading.

“And I should've been gone, after all your words of steel!”

She knows that voice.

“Oh, I must've been a dreamer! And I must've been someone else!”

She knows that voice very well.

“And we should've been over!”

She rushes for the front door, hoping and praying that the idiot she’s become close friends with this year isn’t actually outside her townhouse.

“Oh! Sherrie, our love holds on! Holds on!”

She whips the door open and, sure enough, drunkenly singing to her neighbor's house is Bradley Bradshaw.

“Bradley!” She hisses at him, ignoring the flutters in her stomach when he points his big, goofy grin towards her and not the tulips the soccer girls next door planted in front of their bay window. “What are you doing? It’s 10 PM!”

“You didn’t come.”

“First man to ever care about that.” She mutters, snorting at her joke.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. What are you doing here?”

His puppy dog eyes are vicious, and she has the urge to slap her hand over her eyes so she doesn’t succumb to their power. “You didn’t come to the party!”

Sherrie sighs, she thought he might be disappointed she didn’t come to the annual Sigma Chi Easter Bash, but she never thought he would actually notice her absence. Or that it would result in a drunken serenade.

“Bradley, I told you I had a lot of grading and might not make it tonight.” She gently reminds him, stifling a laugh when he trips over his own feet while standing still. “You okay?”

“I have to pee. Can I come in?”

She’s pretty sure he’s just making excuses but lets him in any way; she doesn’t need to deal with him getting a public indecency charge on top of everything else. “Shoes off, Bradshaw. Bathroom is right here; I’ll be in the dining room.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He sloppily salutes her, losing his balance and thunking against the wall, one shoe still on.

Sherrie just blinks at him before returning to her spot at the dining room table, holding in the laugh threatening to escape. She settles in her chair, focusing on the mediocre reports her students had turned in.

“I washed my hands!” Bradley’s abrupt entrance startles her. “Can we have a snack? I’m hungry?

She watches in amusement as he shuffles to her fridge, riffling through the shelves before opening the freezer and gasping.

“I love pretzels. Can we make these? Please?”

The box of pretzels belongs to her roommate, but she’s not strong enough to deny Bradley’s big brown eyes two times in a row so she makes a mental note to buy Amna a new box the next time she goes to the store. “Yeah, we can. But no touching the oven when you’re drunk. Go sit down.”

“I’m not drunk!” He argues even as he follows her directions, plopping himself at the table and nosily leafing through her done pile. “Wow, lots of red here.”

“Bradley! Don’t look at those!”

“Why not?”

“Would you want some random student looking through your homework?”

His rebuttal gets cut off by the oven beeping, announcing it’s up to temp. After she pops the tray in the oven, she turns and catches him appreciating the pj shorts riding up her shapely legs.

“What?” Her head cocks in confusion.

“Nothin'… cute shorts.”

“Thank you.” He watches in fascination as she snips at him even while her cheeks turn pink. “It’s almost like I was dressed for comfort and not planning on being interrupted.”

“But you’re glad I’m here, right?”

“I’ve had worse company on a Friday night.” She nudges him out of her chair. “While those are baking, go find something to watch, and I’m going to finish grading this report.”

“Such a responsible TA.”

Pride fills his chest as Sherrie snorts at his joke and goes back to work. They’ve officially been friends since last year, but he still tries his hardest to make her laugh. She's always so busy and stressed, and she does the cutest little snort-laugh when he catches her off guard.

He puts on a random movie, just grabbing a VHS case with the Disney logo on the side, before plopping on the couch. “Is there a reason you have so many kids movies?”

“Those are Jayla’s, she collects them.” Sherrie answers, never looking up from the table. “What did you choose?”

“It’s a surprise!”

“You don’t remember, huh?”

“Nope! I’ll be quiet now.”

She hums a thank you in his direction, and Bradley keeps his promise, watching her work and staying quiet until the timer goes off. His chin hooked on the back of the couch; he follows her movement through the kitchen as she pulls the pretzels out and transfers them to a plate.

“Can I have mustard, please?”

“Sure can.” Sherrie smiles at his dopey smile as she makes her way to the couch. “Here, take these, then we can eat.”

He gulps down the painkillers she drops in his hand, chugging the rest of the apple juice after they’re gone, smiling when she absentmindedly praises him for listening. He shoves a bite of pretzel in his mouth and mashes the play button, and is pleasantly surprised to find A Bug’s Life was the mystery choice.

“I love this movie,” he garbles through a pretzel. “I love how Flick wins over the princess just by getting a chance to show off his true self.”

“That was shockingly wise for the drunk man sprawled on my couch.”

Bradley thanks her, already a bit more sober but not enough to pick up on her teasing. “So, why didn’t you come? Grading really couldn’t wait?”

“It probably could have, but I’m not a partier, Bradley. You know that.” She dips a piece of pretzel in the mustard. “Besides, I really didn’t think you would notice I wasn’t there, Mr. Popular.”

“You’re the only person I invited; of course, I noticed when you didn’t show up.”

“Really? No one else? Why?”

“I know it’s almost finals, but I wanted to hang out without any books in front of us; that’s all we do lately. Study. Plus, you’ve been extra stressed about something that you don’t want to talk about, and I just wanted you to relax since you won’t talk to me about whatever is bothering you.”

“That’s sweet of you, Bradley. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you; it’s just that my family has been…” She waves a hand through the air, a deep sigh escaping. “It’s complicated. I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“Well, I’m here if you do want to talk.”

“Thanks bud. How about you? How’re your parents?” She takes one last chunk before nudging the plate in his direction and settling back into the corner.

“Mom is good; she’s close to being considered cancer-free. I think we’re gonna throw a party when she gets there.”

“That’s awesome, Bradley! I’m glad she’s doing so well. How’s your dad?”

“Mav isn’t my dad.”

A record scratch plays in Sherrie’s head as she freezes. She knows she’s heard Bradley talk about his dad, and she’d seen photos of his parents the one time she had visited his frat house last year. He had specifically pointed the photo out, telling her it was his parents. She had even been next to him when he was on the phone when he said “dad” to the person on the other end.

“My dad died when I was three. Mav is- was his best friend. I call him dad sometimes because he’s the closest thing I’ve got.”

Sherrie feels her heart break as Bradley sniffles and sadly shoves a mustard-covered pretzel in his mouth, unshed tears clumping his eyelashes. She’s never seen her friend like this before; she’s experienced many other emotions - frustration, joy, confusion - but the pain creasing his brow is new.

Comforting crying people has never been her forte, but instinctively - almost like they moved without her permission - Sherrie’s fingers run over his hair. Gently stroking the sun-streaked waves as a few tears escape down his cheeks and she scoots closer, letting her body press into his side and hoping the proximity helps.

“I’m sorry for crying on you.” He quietly apologizes after a few minutes of tears.

“S’okay. Family can be hard sometimes.”

“Complicated.”

“That too.” She hums, not moving as he swipes at his eyes and leans against her more, his head resting on her shoulder in a slouched position that can’t be comfortable.

“I love Mav; he’s my dad in all the ways it matters. It just sucks that my actual dad won’t be here for graduation. Like, I know he’s missed so much of my life already, but something about him missing college graduation is worse than everything else. It’s just so unfair; I barely remember him, but I just- I just miss him so much, Sherrie.”

Her heart cracks in half at the whispered confession. She can’t even imagine the pain of losing a parent at such a young age. The inability to remember one of the people responsible for giving you life, all memories fuzzy and most built from second-hand recollections of those who can remember. So she says the one thing she would want to hear.

“Tell me about him.”

Sherrie knows she said the right thing when his red-rimmed eyes brighten, and he immediately launches into a beloved story detailing his father’s love of pranks. She listens dutifully — laughing at the right moments and asking questions when Bradley gets carried away, forgetting that she doesn’t know all the people in his story — and feels her heart warm more and more. She’s always liked Bradley, probably more than she should, but it’s hard not to like him. He’s considerate, smart, and funny, not to mention handsome.

Thankfully, before she gets lost in thoughts of broad shoulders and strong jawlines, a big glob of mustard drops on Bradley’s t-shirt, abruptly cutting him off. The two stare in silence at the yellow condiment sitting on the black cotton shirt, somehow surprised at its appearance, before breaking down into giggles.

“C’mon Bradshaw,” Sherrie grabs his hand, pulling him off the couch. “I have a Tide pen we can use on that mess.”

Bradley follows her up the stairs and into the bathroom, teasing Sherrie about the way her tongue pokes out when she focuses. She takes the gentle taunts, grateful he’s focusing on that and not on her pink cheeks or the way her eyes keep darting to his toned stomach. She’s not sure it was completely necessary for him to strip his shirt off, but she won’t be complaining.

“Well,” A few minutes later, she interrupts his rambling story about a slip and slide. Or she thinks that’s what it’s about; she missed the first part. “I think this is as good as I can get it.”

“That’s okay; it’s not like it’s new or anything. Thanks, Sherrie.”

She steadfastly ignores the pounding heart in her chest as miles of golden skin gets covered back up, trying to not feel too disappointed by its disappearance.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:56 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” Bradley complains a bit too loudly, ears going hot when several pairs of eyes curiously dart toward him, but his focus doesn’t stay on that for very long when he catches the face Sherrie makes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

He squints suspiciously as she avoids eye contact. He usually takes her at her word and doesn’t push, but the frown pulling down the corners of her pink lips sets off bells in his head. “Sherrie, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Bradley. I’m fine.”

He grumbles at her lack of response but settles again in the spot they had claimed after finishing their snack. The gate was still packed, but they had found a prime location with outlets; the only downside was having to sit on the floor, something that is getting harder the older they get.

Bradley scans the area, trying to scout out some open chairs for them to grab, while Sherrie goes back to the movie they’ve been watching on his phone. His eyes drop away from the chairs in surprise when she scoots closer and leans on his shoulder. It’s not uncommon for them to sit close like this at home in Boston, sides pressed together, but she makes a point to be professional when they’re on travel.

“Hey,” he gently nudges her side, concern rising when she doesn’t lift her head, choosing to tilt her neck back, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Panic grips his chest when tears start forming, clouding her green eyes. “Sherrie?! What’s wrong?”

“We were supposed to be halfway home by now, and I’m so uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Bradley, I’m just so tired.” She whimpers, hiding against his bicep.

It hits him like a glass of cold water. Of course, she’s uncomfortable. She’s been walking around in heels and her pantsuit since 4AM California time after getting maybe three hours of sleep. His suit and shoes are comfortable and easily wearable for twelve-plus hours, not to mention the jacket and tie that were ditched sometime after the mustard incident.

“Oh, Sherrie, it’s okay. Let’s go change, yeah? Then we’ll find a quieter place so you can close your eyes and maybe get some sleep.”

“But the policy…”

Bradley resists the urge to roll his eyes at her insistence on rule-following. “In the nicest way possible, Sher, fuck the policy. You’re uncomfortable, and I care about that way more than I could ever care about a stupid, archaic policy.”

He stands, unplugging their phones and gathering their bags on his shoulder before turning to his best friend, who is still on the floor. “C’mon, we’re putting comfy clothes on.”

“But Bradley-”

“No arguing.” He interrupts, helping her off the ground and directing them back towards the restrooms. “We’re not going to sit in our suits for god knows how much longer.”

“But Bradley, I don’t have anything to change into. We had such a packed schedule I didn’t bother to bring normal clothes.” He ignores the thumping of his heart when her hand grabs his forearm, warm fingers slipping under the edge of the rolled-up sleeve as she tugs to slow his pace. At that information, he slides them out of the flow of traffic and over to the wall, Bradley pressing her against one of the columns lining the concourse atrium.

“You don’t have any regular clothes? What about your pajamas?”

“I have a pair of leggings because I was going to do a training run in the gym last night, but that’s it. I can’t wear my pjs because… well, they’re not appropriate for public.”

“Your leggings are clean, though, right?” He asks, ignoring the thoughts of what non-public appropriate pajamas might look like.

“Well, yeah, dinner went so late I barely had time to sleep before we had to be up. I guess I could buy a shirt at one of the SmartShop- what are you doing?”

Bradley peers up from his knees, where he had started digging in his bag. “I’m grabbing one of my shirts for you. Would you prefer a t-shirt or a sweatshirt? Actually, you’re definitely gonna get cold, sweatshirt for you.”

He pulls the worn, gray crew neck out, shaking it out before handing it over.

“You still have this?” The disbelief in her voice makes him laugh.

“Of course, I still have that! Relay was always my favorite event of the year. And that year was my favorite one.”

As the philanthropy chair of Sigma Chi, part of his job was to sign the brothers up for volunteer events and fundraisers. With his mom’s diagnosis, he ensured their schedule included the campus’ annual Relay for Life event, pouring as many resources as he could into the fundraiser that directly helped advance cancer research.

“Wait, but why was junior year your favorite?” She asks, brushing her fingers over the cracked, screen-printed logo.

“Because that’s the reason we became friends, Sher.”

Surprised green eyes meet sincere brown eyes, a thousand words said in the silence of their stares, both remembering the lead-up to that day in April so many years ago.

Bradley’s eyes widen in panic as everyone at the gate starts moving as a herd. They had finally found seats to relax in after changing, the group of passengers waiting with them shrinking as time went on. And now, with only ten minutes until boarding, their gate has changed again.

“Sherrie, wake up!” He feels bad shaking the snoozing woman off, but they have to move with the group to make it to the new part of Terminal A in time for their flight. “C’mon, honey, they changed the gate again — we gotta go!”

“What are you- again?! Shit!” She wipes the bleariness from her eyes, slinging her bags over her shoulder and grabbing the hand he holds out.

The two coworkers, along with fifty of their fellow passengers who have stuck this out, speed walk down the first branch of the terminal. The entire group picking up the pace when turning the corner towards the second branch where the new gate lives. By the time they hit the second branch, everyone is practically running — time ticking down to boarding — no one wanting to miss this flight.

As if the blob of Flight 1121 passengers racing toward the end of the terminal didn’t garner attention from other gates, the entire terminal is staring by the time they reach gate A28, and several people start yelling in frustration.

“This is unbelievable!” An older gentleman’s unhappiness is interrupted by three simultaneous updates pinging everyone’s phones.

Bradley’s head drops back in disbelief, wrapping his arm around Sherrie when her head thunks against his chest. He doesn’t even get a chance to comfort her before the gate agents are making announcements about getting people on other flights, providing hotel rooms, and the vouchers that will be shared.

“Again, we apologize, but if you have flexible travel plans, we ask that you please go to the end of the line so those with time constraints can be taken care of first. Thank you for your cooperation, folks!”

“Well, that’s us, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sherrie blows air out of her lips, a mischievous smile taking over her face. “Hey, at least this means extra per diem money.”

Bradley laughs as they move to the back of the squiggly line that’s forming, letting her take the bags so he can step away to call to update their supervisor and then his pet sitter. It only takes a few rings for his boss to pick up. “Bradshaw! What’s up? You okay?”

“Hey Martin, all good. Just wanted to let you know that our flight has gotten supremely delayed. We won’t be home until tomorrow morning sometime.”

“Jesus, do you guys need anything?”

“Nah, we’re good. The airline is putting us up in a hotel for the night and giving vouchers for a bunch of stuff. Just called to let you know and for a heads up on the expense report.”

“Well, that is the most important part!” Martin’s honking laugh makes Bradley chuckle as he glances to check on Sherrie’s progress in line. “How’s Sherrie? She good?”

“Yeah, she’s good. She’s holding our spot in line for getting new tickets and stuff.” And it looks like she’s made friends already, he silently adds, smiling at her interacting with the elderly couple in front of her.

“Good. Alright then, I’ll see you on Monday, but let me know if you guys need anything. And hey! If you two end up in the same hotel room — remember what I said on your first day!”

The line goes dead, and so does Bradley’s smile, his stomach churning like it does every time he remembers his first day at the Wells Corporation.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007 | 11:15 AM EST | Boston, MA

“Will you calm down?”

“I can’t, Bradley. What if no one likes me? What if I fuck up?!” She hisses, working to appear calm as they wait for their supervisor to show up, but failing.

“First of all, we’re starting together, so you have at least one person that likes you. And you’re great, everyone will like you. Second, there will be mistakes, but we just graduated — they’re not going to let us do anything alone because we don’t know anything yet.”

Sherrie nods, tucking her hands under her legs and trying to breathe. Bradley’s words are encouraging, but he doesn’t know how difficult her internship was last summer. The older engineers she shadowed treated her like a glorified coffee girl and secretary. Even when she had pointed out a mistake they all had missed, there was no change — just the addition of making her type their reports to see if she could catch something the non-engineer tech writers would miss.

This is a brand new company, but misogyny wasn’t unique to Waite Green Construction. Every woman has to work twice as hard to prove her worth and intellect, no matter her age or experience. She’s just hoping her onboarding mentor will be the only other woman in the department; it would be the perfect way to gain a professional mentor once she’s out of the probation period.

“Good morning, kids! How was orientation?” Mr. Teresi walks into the conference room.

Bradley shakes his hand first, “It was good, sir. Nice to see you again.”

“Good to hear! Learn lots of new things.”

“Yes, I think we can be considered experts on trade secrets now.” Sherrie jokes, focusing on making sure her handshake is firm but not too firm.

“Wonderful. So, I’m guessing you two have been introduced, but just in case you haven’t. Bradley, this is Sherrie McHone; she’s an electrical engineer. And Sherrie, this is Bradley Bradshaw, a mechanical engineer.”

“We actually went to school together, sir.”

“We’re friends,” Bradley adds, the two of them exchanging small smiles.

“Oh, great! Well, that makes things easier getting started. Now let’s go over my plan for the two of you, and then we’ll get lunch, my treat for your first day.”

Their supervisor talks for half an hour, going over things they’ll need to be trained in and their first assignments. By the time he’s done, several notebook pages have been filled and highlighted with things that need to be looked up.

“Alright!” The older engineer claps, rubbing his hands together. “I’m sure your brains are overloaded with information, so go drop your things at your desks, and we’ll head to lunch.”

The recent graduates gather their notes and head for the door, quietly talking about a training they’ll be attending next week when he stops them. “One more thing, guys. They never mention it during R&D orientation, but I feel it’s necessary to mention it to new people. Here at Wells, there isn’t a fraternization policy among non-management coworkers or between any employees in different divisions. But we are a fairly small department, so keep in mind who you interact with and what impacts that may have at work.”

Sherrie feels the blood drain from her already pale face as her brand new supervisor stares at her the entire time he speaks, ignoring Bradley completely. She’s going to be sick. Less than four hours into the first professional role of her career, and it’s already happening.

This is the moment it starts, she thinks, her heart pounding in her throat as she robotically nods. It’s never the men that get these warnings. It’s always the women. Always us. Always me.

“I don’t care about that. But there are some people who will, even though they shouldn’t. And I want you guys to have the best experience here you possibly can. You’re both extremely bright, and I’m excited about your futures. I don’t want you to get bogged down by the opinions of others. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” They answer in unison before filing out of the conference room.

“Sherrie, don’t worry about that. He’s just-”

“Trust me, Bradley. I know exactly what he was saying. I’m going to use the restroom, and then I’ll meet you guys at the elevator.”

“Sherrie…”

But she ignores her friend, shrugging her purse over her shoulder and keeping her face neutral as she heads for the single-stall ladies’ room. Fighting to hold the tears back until she’s inside for fear of being perceived as emotional. A quality no woman can afford to have in a professional setting.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 8:05 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Hey, everything? Martin says hi.”

“We’re good! This is Mr. and Mrs. Ludden; they’re going to visit their newest granddaughter. How’re Sophie and Louis?” Bradley smiles at the excited way she introduces them, putting a steadying hand on her back when she bounces up on her toes.

“Oh, congrats! They’re good; Marie can watch’em one more day, problem.”

“Good, we’ll have to get her a thank you present for the short notice.”

“You didn’t tell us you guys had kids!”

Bradley and Sherrie freeze in place, eyes widening in surprise at the older woman’s words.

“Oh- uh- we-” Sherrie giggles awkwardly. “Sophie and Louis are our cats; we don’t have kids.”

“I’m so sorry!” Mrs. Ludden gasps, hand covering her mouth in shock while her husband groans her name.

“Louise, how many times do we have to do this before you stop making assumptions?”

“It’s okay, innocent mistake,” Bradley assures them.

“Well, they’re such a cute couple. I just thought they would have adorable children, too!”

“Actually… we’re not…”

“Oh, lord. Let me guess. You’re not dating. You’re just friends.”

“Coworkers too, but we were friends first.” Sherrie suppresses a laugh when the older gentleman rubs a hand over his eyes in exasperation.

“Don’t even start, Clayton!”

“I wasn’t going to, dear.”

Bradley can’t help the laugh that escapes at the comfortable ribbing they give each other; it reminds him of his friendship with Sherrie. The easy way they tease, never going too far.

“Would you two like to join us after we get rebooked?” Bradley asks. “We’re going to use our food vouchers tonight to grab dinner before we head to whatever hotel they put us up in.”

The four adults move through the line, chatting about small things and comparing pictures of grandkids and cats. It’s a nice way to spend the time, especially when they get to share judging looks when a woman throws a tantrum and yells at the gate agent. But soon enough, they’re walking back to the main concourse and deciding what food to get.

“No, stop. You just sit here with the bags, and I’ll grab the food.” Bradley gently pushes Sherrie back into her chair, rolling his eyes as he talks over her protests. “I know. You want mac and cheese, Diet Coke, and whatever pulled pork flavor looks best.”

“He’s sweet,” Louise says, watching the two men make their way over to the BBQ place.

“He’s annoying.” Which makes her companion laugh. “Yes, he’s very sweet. I’m lucky to be such good friends with him.”

“Can I ask why the two of you aren’t together? He even knows what food to bring you.”

“It’s just never been like that between us. We’ve always just been friends. And he’s annoyingly smart, so he always remembers what I order.” Sherrie half smiles, pushing down the pain in her chest at the harmless curiosity, watching Bradley laugh at something Clayton says as she remembers the first time he remembered one of her favorites.

Saturday, March 4, 2006 | 1:34 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“Thanks for meeting me on a Saturday, Bradshaw. It’s just such a busy semester.”

“No problem. You know you can call me Bradley, right?”

“Oh, sorry. Do you not like being called Bradshaw?” Sherrie blinks when a bottle of Diet Coke and a small bag of Skittles is set on the table in front of her. “What’s this?”

“Your favorite snack.”

“Right… but why?”

“Because you have that about 50% of the time when we meet up to work on this project. Now, I finished transcribing the interview with Commander Buck last night. Did you want to- Sherrie?”

She shifts her focus from the food to the boy across from her in the study nook they’ve claimed as theirs for the semester. “Why do you remember my favorite snack?”

“Because we’re friends?” Brown eyes look into hers, equally confused.

“We’re friends?”

“I hope so; otherwise, this is gonna get awkward when you hug me in a minute.”

“Why am I going to hug you?!”

Bradley laughs at her flabbergasted expression, but it doesn’t hurt her feelings like it does when other people laugh at her. Something about the tone of the laugh makes it feel like he’s laughing at her, but rather with her, and she just doesn’t know the joke yet.

“Because as team captain, I am happy to announce to the Relay Chair that Sigma Chi has officially raised $5,000 thanks to your idea.”

“Bradley, that’s incredible!” She doesn’t feel silly when she bounces around the table to hug his neck, rocking them back and forth in excitement.

“Well, if you think that’s good - let me show you what we’re anticipating to raise this month…”

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“I just don’t understand how we’re having such bad luck!”

Sherrie rolls her eyes as he unlocks the door. “Bradley, breathe. You’re being very dramatic right now.”

“How is “we’re out of rooms” a legitimate reason for the hotel to give? Not that I mind sharing with you, but like how is that possible? The airline specifically works with them to book rooms for things like this! And the airline! That gate agent who wanted to book us to fly into Hartford and then drive the rest of the way to Boston! That's insane!”

“I don’t know, the Bradley flying into Bradley joke was pretty funny.” She mutters, clicking the lights on as she checks the cleanliness of the room.

“It wasn’t.” Bradley pouts, flopping onto the bed closest to the door. “Do you want to shower first?”

“No, go ahead, but I’m going to wash my face first so I can do a face mask. I’m so dry from the airport air.” He listens to the sounds of water running and the quiet humming as she carefully applies the drenched sheet to her skin. “All yours!”

“Thanks, Sher. I won’t be long.”

He showers quickly but takes extra time cleaning his teeth, his mouth feeling gross after the long travel day. When he comes out, he’s surprised at how cozy the room feels. With only one lamp on, the air conditioning set low to keep the fan running, and an old movie on the TV, it almost feels like they could be at home in his living room. They silently move around each other, Sherrie heading to the bathroom with a pile of things while Bradley organizes his things for the morning, wanting to get as much rest as possible before their early alarm.

He scrolls through emails and texts while he waits for her to shower, turning the television off since he knows there’s a small chance of either of them making it five minutes after they kill the lights. He's updating Mav on tomorrow’s travel plans when Sherrie comes out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel. Bradley sees her packing things out of the corner of his eye, not fully paying attention until he plugs his phone in.

“That’s what you wear to bed?”

“Bradley!” He laughs at how she jumps, her hands coming down to cover her shorts.

“What? They’re cute! Very pink.”

Her face goes as pink as the pajama set she’s wearing. “Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not! You know, I love strawberries.” He can’t help the way his eyes roam up and down her body, admiring from the spaghetti straps on her smooth shoulders to the scalloped edge of her shorts. “I see why you didn’t want to change into those at the airport.”

“Oh my god…” She huffs, climbing into her own queen bed and stuffing herself under the sheets. “You set an alarm, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Want me to turn the light off?”

“Please. God, this day cannot be over soon enough.”

He chuckles and turns the lamp off, listening to her shuffle around in the sheets as she gets comfortable. It’s quiet for a few minutes, and he can hear her breathing leveling out, but he can’t keep quiet; the conversation at the airport running through his mind.

“Sher?” It takes a second, but she quietly hums in response. “We have to talk about it again.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Sherrie-”

“No, Bradley. We talked about this two weeks ago. Nothing has changed since then.”

“Yes, things have changed since then. You interviewed for that principal engineer position. Which if you get-”

“I’m not going to get it. They’re going to pick Trevor.”

“They’re going to pick you. You’re the best person for the job!”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it.”

He’s silent, the crushing weight on his chest feeling heavier when he hears her sniffle.

“Oh, Sherrie…” He slips out of his bed and into hers, wrapping the woman he loves in his arms. He lets her cry, knowing she’s frustrated and exhausted, only speaking up again when she’s calmed down. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“No, I’m sorry, Bradley. It’s not fair that we’ve been dancing around this for so many years, and I keep saying no. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to be with you. Not a coward like me.”

“You’re not a coward; you’re one of the bravest people I know, Sherrie Anne McHone. I know how critical people are of women, in this field especially. And I love you, so I don’t mind waiting until we’re in a position that you’re confident won’t jeopardize your career. So, we’ll wait to hear about the job, and once you hear that you’ve gotten it, I’m treating you to the nicest dinner in Boston.”

“Bradley, we don’t know-”

“I know we don’t know. But think about how it would be if it does. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“But what about-”

“Doesn’t matter, honey.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.” Sherrie mumbles, cuddling further into his side, making it clear that he wasn’t allowed to leave.

“I know, but it doesn’t matter, whatever it is — we’ll figure it out.”

Saturday, July 16, 2016 | 10:32 AM EST | Somewhere over Virginia

“She’ll take a ginger ale; thank you so much.” Bradley balances his apple juice, the two packets of Biscoff cookies, and the bubbling soda he got for Sherrie. The smiling flight attendant moves past their row as he turns to his row companion.

They’re finally on their way home after waking up to more delay announcements. The additional time meant there was time to get coffee and some fruit from the hotel before their taxi back to the airport arrived, and the Luddens had even stopped to chat for a second at the gate, excited that they had gotten bumped up to first class since the flight was nearly empty.

All things considered, it had been a good morning even though Sherrie was insisting on working during the flight. Bradley is sure it’s an attempt to ignore their talk from last night, not wanting to dwell on the emotional moment when things are still so up in the air.

He looks over at the woman he’s known since he was eighteen, overwhelmed for a moment by how little things have changed since the first time he ever noticed her. Bradley fondly watches as she furiously types, hunched over her laptop with headphones, playing what he knows is eighties hair bands.

Her nose wrinkles in frustration, and suddenly it’s 2003 again, and he’s trying to get the attention of the red-haired girl whose table has the only empty chair left, something he desperately needs since this book can’t leave the library. He’s unable to get her attention and resorts to knocking on the table, heart skipping a beat when the prettiest green eyes he’s ever seen blink up at him. Bradley gestures at the empty chair, silently asking if he can sit, and is grateful when she nods because her smile is making his knees wobble. For the next hour, he tries to take notes for his paper, but he keeps getting distracted by the beautiful girl across from him. Bradley isn’t sure if he’s upset or happy when she packs up her stuff and leaves, giving him a little wave when she notices him watching her.

That had been thirteen years ago, and her intense focus still distracts him, but he’s not afraid to interrupt her this time. Fingers rub her arm that is covered in his sweatshirt again, but this time, he knows it smells like her shampoo instead of his cologne. Her smile still sends his heart skipping when she looks up at him, her pretty eyes widening in joy when she catches sight of the red snack packaging and the plastic cup holding her second favorite soda.

“Thank you!” She whispers, leaning across the empty middle seat in their row to kiss his cheek. “Oh, and we should go out to lunch when we get back! I want to try that new noodle place that opened in Southie.”

He just smiles when she immediately gets back to work; cheek puffed out from the cookie she stuffed in her mouth.

Maybe she’s not avoiding our talk from last night.

Thursday, August 11, 2017 | 2:15 PM EST | Boston, MA

“You got a minute?” Bradley knocks on the edge of her cubicle. It may be a different floor of their building, but all of the office space is the same dated stuff from decades ago.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“First of all…” He ducks down and presses a swift kiss to her plush mouth, still trying to make up for all those years he couldn’t. “And don’t say anything because I already checked before I did because I wanted to kiss my girl.”

He chuckles at the pink spots that shine on her cheeks. It’s been a year since Sherrie snagged the promotion, and they officially became an item, but she still turns a little red whenever he says something sweet.

“Second, you are all packed, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“I was gonna swing by the apartment and get our bags so we can head straight to the airport after work.”

“You took the afternoon off? Why?”

Bradley was expecting this question and smoothly fibs. “I worked the hours out with Martin for this week so I could run a few last-minute errands. Do you want me to grab snacks?”

“Okay, Mr. Secrets. When you’re at home, could you water the ivy? I forgot this morning, and I don’t want it to die while we’re gone.”

“Of course! Need me to do anything else?”

Sherrie hums, staring at the ceiling as she thinks. “One more kiss?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bradley happily complies with her request.

“Okay, now you have to go. I have to finish prepping for this meeting where I get to yell at Sean.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll pick you up later. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Have fun with your mysterious errands.” Sherrie teases, and Bradley smirks back, knowing how much she would be freaking out if he knew what he would be doing while she professionally reamed out their least favorite colleague.

“Thanks, honey. Text me if you think of something.” Sherrie waves over her shoulder, already zoned back into her work.

Bradley doesn’t dare look at his buzzing phone until he’s safely on the elevator, pleased to see confirmation texts from their hotel and the airline. Would it be cheesy to quietly propose in the airport that was a catalyst in their relationship? Maybe, but he knew Sherrie would love it. He’s just hoping the TSA didn’t call out the ring that would be hiding in his carry-on.

#deltasupremacy I also want to give a special thanks to @sometimesanalice, who gave so much encouragement through the texts despite having no idea what I was writing - you're the best! tagged some friends and most those who interacted with the original announcement post for this fic all those months ago!

tagging: @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @laracrofted @theharddeck @hangmanbrainrot @hangmanssunnies @thesewordsareallihavetogive @princessphilly @katieshook02 @atarmychick007 @kmc1989 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @misfitpeach @luckyladycreator2 @scarlettwidow19 @mini-bee-bee @midnightstarqueen @shamelessghostwagonwobbler

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[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 3)

Word Count - 3.7k

Summary - It’s been a couple months since you last had contact with Lt. Simon Ghost Riley. While you are repairing your tarnished reputation, Simon is on the other side working from the shadows and doing everything he can to take back his words. It isn’t until the three-month marker that you finally face him again, this time you’re willing to hear him out. If only because you guys are going to be team members.               

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Maybe a little bit of angst, Mentions of childhood trauma

A/N - as we near the end of this storyline I would like to thank everyone for their love and support and I appreciate every one of you guys 🤍🤍🤍  I am also going to post a brief POV from Ghost later, and one more part, two at tops.   

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2   

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form   

It had been a month since you last spoke with Ghost and since then you learned three things. The first was that he truly was a ghost. He haunted hallways and existed only in rumors and whispers. He made himself seen only when he wanted to be. For the rest of his assignment, he kept his distance. You figured since you have yet to see him it was because he was better at spotting you first and turning in the other direction. Soap would still drop by and fill you in on the latest 141 gossip. It didn’t go over your head that Soap never had any gossip about Ghost. Never once did Soap mention him. Whether Soap figured out that something had gone down on his own or forced it out of Ghost himself was a mystery. You didn’t have the energy or care to ask. 

The second is that whatever he had been previously telling the higher up was either rescinded or someone had put in a good word about you. If it was Ghost or not, you also didn’t know. Nor did it matter if it was him, the damage was done. You put your hand up for every opportunity, followed every rule, and every patient that came to you left you with positive feedback. You were an HR dream.     

The third was that you missed his company. Even a month after you were still fuming, still ready to rip his tongue out should you see him again. Still heartbroken and yet some part of you still missed Ghost. You kept a very tight leash on that part of you and squashed it beneath your boot. How was it fair that his fuck up, and his selfishness resulted in you losing a friend. It wasn’t, and that’s what you were most bitter about. 

After two months, you have decided to let go of the anger and hurt. It wasn’t going to help you now. You kept yourself preoccupied with work and more work. You were still based in the new camp, now dubbed Fort Cardinal, which has since become one of the biggest bases.     

You were just leaving the mess hall after breakfast when you were intercepted in the hallway. 

“L/n?” the private asked.

“Yes?” your brows furrowed. 

“Crawford wants to speak to you. He’s in his office.”

Crawford was the commanding officer, and when he summoned someone to his office it could mean only a few things. Most of them were bad. You pivoted and headed towards HQ. You might have taken the scenic route too. Pausing at the entrance to Crawfords office.  “Sir,” you stood by the doorway waiting for your CO to acknowledge you, “you requested I come to see you.” 

He looked up from the files splayed out on his desk, “Take a seat.”

You pulled out a chair opposite him, your palms began to sweat and you wiped them on your pants. Racking your brain to try and remember if you had done something wrong, or inappropriate, but came up blank. 

“How many years have you been with us?” he questioned, folding his hands over the papers.

“Four, Sir,” you straightened your back and squared your shoulders.    

He stared at you for a second, his face hard, before nodding and looking back to the papers. They were your files. A collection of reports and logs and records, “It’s of my understanding that you’ve voiced your desire for a transfer.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Since your enlistment, your peers and superiors have had nothing but good things to say about you. Your records show that you excelled in both the field and the classroom. Never missed a work day, never late,” he began listing things off from the note in front of him. You couldn’t tell if he was impressed or irritated, and it was psyching you out. He paused as he flipped through, “Have you fully recovered from your injury?” 

“Healed like a dream,” you offered him a tight-lipped smile. It did, after the first couple of weeks you were back at work in full force. 

“Good to hear,” he flipped a page back so it was facing you, “Any idea what this might have been for?” It would have looked the same as any other report aside from the fact that it was entirely redacted. Whatever was written beneath had been obscured by a thick black line. 

You leaned forward, your smile fading into a frown. You shook your head, “I have no idea. No.” This was the first time you saw your files all laid out like this, so you were just as lost as him. Whoever redacted it must have been of higher status than him if even he didn’t know. Then again, you weren’t sure about what happened behind closed doors. You met his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking and when you couldn’t you wanted to melt into your seat. 

“There’s been an opening,” he leaned back in his chair, “Aerospace medicine has requested a combat medic. It’ll be a one year contract. Should you take this position you will be sent out for a three week training program and your first assignment will be right after that. ”

If it weren’t for those four years of service and learning that people like your CO didn’t like a show of emotions you would have hopped around his office. So, you remained silent, waiting for him to continue. 

“The captain of Special Task Forces 141 has requested you himself for their next mission.”

Your heart dropped.  

“Captain Price?” you echoed. Maybe it was a different 141. 

“Correct,” he waved a hand, his patience shortening, “Yes or no?” 

“Yes,” you answered before you could think it over, and he excused you before you could process your answer. This was what you had been asking for, what you were working towards, and now that it had been offered to you you were left uneasy. Working with the 141 was an honour and a nod to your capabilities. It also meant working with Lt. Simon Riley. You couldn’t unscramble your feelings about the implications. 

You determined that professionalism would yield the best outcome.  

You were packed and heading out for your training by lunch.    

When you entered the briefing room, it was as relaxed as you expected from the 141. Which was not at all. The air was thick and sober. You were half an hour early and still the last to arrive.

“Morning,” Price stepped around the table everyone was surrounding. 

“Good morning,”  you replied, making your way to the table. Laswell met up with you during your training to give you a rundown on what to expect. You were going to be their combat medic, yes, but you could fight and shoot just as well as any other soldier. You even had the grounds to brag about your close combat skills. Laswell was visibly pleased when you told her your dad forced you into mixed martial arts when you were ten years old, and could take down a full-grown man like he was a bag of flour. 

You scanned the table and the map splayed out was a replica of the one Laswell had provided. You tried to hide the smile and pointed to the empty medicine vial on the map, “Is that supposed to be me?” 

“Aye,” Soap puffed his chest out, “that was my doing.” 

When you looked up at Soap, you purposefully ignored the large burly man dressed in all black beside him, “Creative,” you noted how Ghost seemed to shrink back into the shadows at your indifference towards him. 

Soap had actually picked everyone's avatar, a sniper bullet, a lighter, a toy skeleton, and an angel wing that looked like it used to be a necklace, and a battery. You couldn’t decide whether to laugh at the figurines or the fact that everyone accepted them. 

Price ran through the plan, the target, and his expectations of everyone. He revealed that the target was going to be “Cameron Rowe” , a former sergeant turned rogue. His headshot was stabbed into the table with a knife. You recognized it as Ghosts, the blade usually fixed to his thigh. 

“Since we have no real idea as to where Rowe will be we’ll be splitting off into teams.”         You had to suck your lips into your mouth to keep from making an argument when Price moved your vial next to the skeleton on the map.  “Soap and Laswell with nest at the top of these two buildings,” he pointed to the two highrises in front and behind Rowe’s apartment building. “Doc and Ghost will take watch at the port,” he dragged his finger to the loading docs, which was usually Rowe’s meeting place. “Gaz and I will be tailing his informers and hopefully, catch them in the act.” 

You had a sneaking suspicion they stuck you with Ghost was to balance out the teams. Ghost was a one man army, you were basically going to keep him company. Or so they thought. You didn’t plan on sharing a single conversation with him, and you knew you could easily hold your own. The 141 had plans of not only taking down Rowe but finding out whoever he was working with. So, they couldn’t just pick him off in his apartment building. 

After the briefing and everyone knew their role people started to filter back out. You stayed behind to speak with Price, having a few questions of your own.

“Captain,” you started and he turned back around, “Why ask for me?” This assignment was only temporary, you weren’t a part of the 141, but Price could have picked anyone in the world to help with this job. 

“I read your file,” he closed the door behind him, coming to meet you by the table again, “You have an impressive background, and it makes me wonder why you chose the medical field.”

You were at the top of your class for both basics and medical school, so it was a genuine curiosity. He also probably had access to your life before enlistment, “It’s what I wanted,” was the only answer you could give him, and it’s the only one you had.

He hummed, his eyes turning to slits, “Then why agree?” 

“I’ve been waiting for something like this since day one. How was I supposed to say no?” You’ve been waiting for an opportunity to show your versatility. This mission might have been overkill but it was what you wanted. Beggars can’t be choosers. 

“You’re a strange one,” Price crossed his arms over his chest, “You’ll fit in great,” he looked like he had something else to say but changed his mind. He tilted his head towards the door, “Better go and get some rest, we leave at 0400 tomorrow.”   

You nodded, parting off with a “Thank you,” before heading to the door.

“Can we talk?” Ghost was waiting outside the door when you left the room. 

You shot him a blank look, “About?” you kept walking down the hall not waiting to hear his answer. 

He followed after you, “I want to apologize.” 

You exited the building and met with a blast of the hot sticky air of summer, the sun was getting low in the sky, “Go ahead, Judas” you turned to him, making eye contact with his chest. You gritted your teeth when you had to look up at him, “I’ll keep it civil for the sake of the mission but I don’t want to be your friend.”

His shoulders loosened as if he had just received the best news, “I understand,” he shifted back on his feet, his tired eyes scanning the area, before returning to you, “I was out of line. I was mixing private affairs with work, I see that now. And I’m sorry. I was being selfish and I wasn’t taking your needs and wants into consideration. So, if you’ll give me some grace and let me show you how good I can be.”  

“Keep your fingers out of my business and I’ll think about it,” you quipped. 

He lifted his hands before him, splaying his fingers out before curling them into a fist, “They’re put away,” he might have broken your trust and crossed you but he was still the friend you lost and missed. He was going to have to work for it either way. This was a start.    

“We can talk more later,” where there were fewer listening ears and watchful eyes. “I’ll come to you when I’m good and ready. For now, just stay away from me,” you’d think after 3 months you’d have figured out what you’d say to him, but you didn’t. And tomorrow you were going to be trapped in a room with him, so you were going to have to cross your t's and dot your i’s tonight to present them to him for tomorrow. 

He physically flinched at the dismissal, but he took a step back, providing you with space, “Of course.”  

Your chest twisted at the sight, you didn’t like treating him like a disease, but you refused to let it blind you of the truth. Still. You sighed, cursing yourself for what you were about to say, “Thank you, for apologizing.” 

His eyes crinkled in the corners and you could have sworn they gave way to a smile. The awe-worthy occurrence was sadly hidden underneath his mask. You rolled your eyes at him before pivoting and walking towards the barracks.      

You sat with Laswell on a stray crate on the tarmac while you waited for the rest of the team to arrive. The two of you just people watched, with her occasionally pointing someone out and telling you a little about them. This guy was grounded a couple of weeks ago because he arrived at work still drunk from the night before. That guy had a crazy, entitled wife. 

The chopper started its engine and was ready for lift-off at exactly 0359.   

“Doc, about our talk yesterday. I also figured you want to take part and get some revenge for yourself,” Price bellowed over the sound of the chopper, and he ducked below the propellers. Realization sprung to life in your chest. Price had asked for you to be on this mission because you had something to gain from it. This Rowe guy, this squealer had been the one to rat out the convoy to the enemy. He was the reason you were injured, and the reason Butters was dead. This wasn’t the sleight of hand of Ghost but Price. It put your nerves at ease and allowed you to be a little less angry with the former.      

“I appreciate it, Sir,” you nodded at Price.  He clapped a hand over your shoulder and hopped into the helicopter after you. Being squished between Price and Soap made you feel a little safer with the fact that there were no doors on the heli. Ghost took his spot on the side of the heli, letting his legs hang out the side, his gun at the ready. Gaz sat opposite him and Laswell adjacent to you. Her pack and gun took up an entire seat. She reached into her front pouch as the heli lifted off the ground, pulling out a chocolate bar. Your mouth watered. Chocolate was hard to come back at base, people traded whole MREs for one bar. Soap handed you a headset for the chopper just as she noticed your drooling expression. 

“If you promise you can get an appointment with the chiro, I’ll give you some,” she waggled the bar in front of her, a trade.

“I know both the chiropractor and the masseuse,” you countered. She made a look of delight, before reaching into her pack and tossing you your own bar. 

Oh, you liked her.    

You stuffed the back into the small day pack at your feet, saving it for later. Acutely aware that if you opened it here at least two people on this aircraft would put their hand out for a piece. You eyed Gaz and Soap. 

The helicopter had been an hour's flight, and they had landed on a field. Without permission, you might add so you had to be quick on the exit. A line of blacked-out SUVs and trucks was waiting for a quick escape. Price ordered everyone to join up with their duo, and head to their discussed position. 

Ghost strode for one of the SUVs, opening the back to place his pack and guns. He stepped to the side to allow you to do the same and closed it after you. He was spinning the keys around his finger when he turned to you, “Who’s driving?” 

You didn’t respond, instead, you opened the passenger door and slid in. From the side mirror, you could see him look up at the sky, take a couple of deep breaths, then clasp his hands together before moving to enter the car. He was silent the rest of the way, his attention on the road. Even through the mask, you could see his jaw tighten and flex. 

He parked the SUVs at the back of the building, between the wall and another vehicle. He lead you into the building, a warehouse or collection center of some sort into the offices on the second floor. He pointed out exit routes and potential areas to hold our position. The gravity of his pointing stuff out like that said a lot about how he thought this mission was going to pan out. The thought should have frightened you but knowing that the Ghost was fighting on the same side as you had the opposite effect. The office he brought you into was already vacant, with nothing but an empty desk and a chair on each side. He locked the door and placed his gun on the desk, and informed Price over the radio that we were in place. You made your way to the window, pulling one of the vanes down to peek outside. The window gave a good view of the entrance of the port and a decent view of the sea cans.       

“How long will he have to camp out here?” you asked, letting go of the blinds. 

“The day. Maybe into tomorrow,” he shrugged, as he started pulling things from his pack, “Depends on Rowe, really. Price and Gaz have the biggest probability of catching him. Laswell is going to be our eyes in the sky, and Soap already has access to the cameras in Rowe’s apartment, and a couple in this harbour.” 

You took a seat in one of the swivel chairs, “And you?” 

He paused, his eyes refusing to meet yours, “I’m more for after we catch him,” he cleared his throat. The question made him awkward, he didn’t want you to know what exactly it was that he did. You had your ideas and presumptions already but his hesitation had you second guessing.   

“You the one who’s going to get the information out of him?” he picked up one of the blades he had laid out on the desk, turning it over in your hand. He watched you, following your movements with predatory grace. 

“Is that why I’m here?” you continued, “To make sure he stays alive long enough to give you that information?” He was the butcher and you were the surgeon. A strange dichotomy. 

He stilled, “I don’t want you to see it.”      

“It”, being what he was going to do. What he was trained to do. What he was good at. You placed the knife back on the table, pushing away with the wheels on the chair. You prepared yourself for the upcoming confession. Playing this out in your head last night was way easier than actually doing it.  

“You know, I think you and I have very similar pasts,” you looked down at your hands, at the lines and curves etched into them.

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, and his shoulders rolled forward. 

“I also think we took very different paths, though,” you saw it in his eyes the moment you met, the wounds that were too deep to see on the surface. It was why you understood him, and why you were going to forgive him, “You don’t have to hide it from me, Riley. I’ve seen the worst in humanity, and I know that you are nothing like them”  

You didn’t think he was breathing, didn’t think he was in his body. When you met his stare, his eyes were wide, and his pupils were pinpricks. You stood up from the chair and walked to his side of the table, “Can I touch you?” 

It was barely noticeable but he nodded. You wrapped your arms underneath his arm and pressed your cheek to his shoulder. He immediately returned the gesture, his arms encircling your shoulders, his one hand reaching up to cradle your head to him. He released a shuddering breath, and if you closed your eyes and focused hard enough you could hear his heart hammering against his chest. 

“There isn’t anything you can do that will make me think you're a monster,” you whispered into his shoulder, “Aside from maybe sabotaging my career,” it was almost a joke. 

“Noted,” you could hear the smile in between his words. Feel the relief thawing his muscles. You pulled back just as Soap and Laswell confirmed their position. Ghost took a step back himself, “We should get set up.”  

He pushed the desk so it was against the same wall as the window, propping his gun onto and looked down the scope to the entrance of the port. 

You settled down and at the end of the desk, it was going to be a long, boring wait. You set to counting the bullets in the magazine Ghost pulled from his pack if only to find something to distract yourself. You were elated when he pulled a deck of cards from his pack and the two of you played a couple of rounds of poker, then switched to go fish. There was also the occasional chatter about what each other did in the three months you were separated. The both of you had become incredibly busy. 

It was nearing dusk by the time anything of importance aired over the radio. 

Price’s eager voice came through, “Ghost, Doc, we’re following the informants to the port. Be at the ready.”    

Part 3.5, Part 4

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form   

A/N - the sniper bullet is Soap, the lighter is Price, the toy skeleton is Ghost, the angel wing is Gaz, and the battery is Laswell. Also, also, Price is definitely playing Cupid.

Tag List - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @marytvirgin​ ❤︎ @stickygumchewer​ ❤︎ @lauraliisa​ ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy​ ❤︎ @lululandd​ ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy​ ❤︎ @naxxsstuff​ ❤︎@sididakra-jo,   @yukisawer​ ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @kat-nee

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

01/31/2024 Daily Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings; Watch Parties; OurFlagMeansDeadloch; LubeAsACrew; Stats; UK News; Upcoming Events; Other News; Favor To Ask; Love Notes; DailyDarby/Tonight's Taika

== Cast and Crew Sightings ==

Probably the cutest sighting would be Con O'Neill's dog Cooper

== How To Help ==

How to help docs have been updated with queerties and other stats!

How To Help Save OFMD Task List - US

How to Help Save OFMD Task List - Outside US

== Watch Parties ==

Today was Day 2, episodes 3 and 4 of Deadloch!

I realised I totally forgot to crew reactions up for Deadloch yesterday! Sorry all! Here's some from todays watch!

On to episodes 5/6 tomorrow! Same time same place!

== LubeAsACrew ==

The second Lube as a crew was widely successful! Trending at #7! Thanks for catching it @_irene_adler!

Everybody had a lot of fun with it, here's some highlights!

Our lovely friend over at @Astroglide left some fantastic tweets for us, I'm including a few that stood out.

== Stats ==

Some interesting stats today! Thank you @meowzawowza_ on twitter for these details!

More stats by @lucyrosebutler regarding How well OFMD is doing in the US!

== UK News ==

Reminder! 5 days until S2 airs in the UK!

Thanks as always to our lovely @lamentus1 for the update in the UK!

"I tweeted at 13 lucky TV Guide journalists in the UK all about Our Flag Means Death and the efforts of the fandom and also why the show is so great. I have a document with their twitters and email addresses. Email will be my next line of attack! If anyone wants access to the UK TV Guide press list let me know! We were thinking that we should introduce a spoiler free way for people who are starting to watch season 2 on the BBC to interact with the campaign on Twitter. I think it might be to encourage them to follow #OurFlagBBC while encouraging anyone posting spoilers under that hashtag to add #ofmd2spoilers so that people can avoid seeing spoilers. One other thing that’s coming up later in February is that Chxrlotte on our UK crew will be releasing an Our Flag Means Death inspired track on her label on 24 February! She has a ton of gorgeous tracks that are often inspired by shows like OFMD and Good Omens, and the new one is about Ed and Stede. I’ve had a preview of the new track and it’ll make you cry! @shutupchxrlotte's Twitter Her other stuff is on Apple Music and Spotify here"

Please have a listen!

== Upcoming Events ==

#StewAsACrew

Reminder! Feb 4th is National Homemade Soup Day! More deets! Be sure to share your soup/stew pics with these hashtags:

#StewAsACrew

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

Not a soup bitch but still want to help?

You can politely menace: @CambellSoupCo and @CampbellsChunky with our petition hashtags!

==New Watch Party!==

Muppet Treasure Island - Feb 7th 2024

4PM EST, 1PM PST, 9 PM GMT

Watch Party Hashtags:

#MuppetPirates

#AdoptOurCrew

#SaveOFMD

== Other News ==

Warner bros stock is still dropping! Sure looks like cancelling OFMD wasn't a very lucrative plan. Thanks @iamadequate_ for this!

Max still has billboards up for OFMD in Hollywood! Thanks @LeanneBrodie13 for catching this!

Also, @_irene_adler caught some audacity from Max in trying to monetize OFMD merch for Valentine's Day.

== Favor to Ask ==

I've been working on a bit of a side project of putting together an OFMD Renewal Repository for resources that doesn't require anyone to log into ... twitter, IG, tumblr, facebook, etc. It's still WIP but I'd love some constructive feedback if anyone would be willing to take a look and let me know what they think. I won't be replacing the tumblr recaps with it, but will be posting them there minus the gifs at the end so they can be shared to other platforms if needed.

My specific questions are:

Are there more categories / different information you'd like to have added?

Is it generally easy to find information?

Is this a bad idea? (too many places with this stuff already?)

Other feedback welcome!

I am totally cool with constructive feedback, feel free to dm me :)

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. Do you ever worry you're too much? Like you talk too much, or feel too much, or come off too strong? I know I do some days.

Just remember, on days you're feeling too much, you're probably shining your brightest. What other people think is too much is just you, and you're allowed to shine! Don't ever let their inability to see your worth stop you. Saw this on IG today and thought of you call. Gnight crew, all the love <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

These gifs go together, I don't make the rules.

[doobea]

Hi! Hello! Hope you're having a great day. I recently started following your acc and ur works are great. I'm not sure if reqs r open but I'll try to ask. Any bllk character in a scenario where their partner randomly said 'please don't leave me' at midnight or smth. I'm craving for some rlly good fluff rn. Thank u smm!

omg yes i am taking requests haha and you're actually the first one! it flatters me that you like my stuff because its been such a long time since I've written anything fandom related! I'll try my best with this scenario and hopefully you'll end up liking it too! :)

contents: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, hurt and comfort (slightly), sfw characters mentioned: rin, oliver a/n: omg i hope this didn't take too long, I tried incorporating two different scenarios where the statement could be applied :) and decided to pick rin and oliver for this bc they were the first ppl to pop in my mind

"N-No, get away from me!"

The man runs away from the clouded figure in the shadows and into the thick open wheat field. He's frantically looking around, body and vision slowly getting disoriented as panic washes over any logic that was left. His beaded eyes dart towards the distance where a shed stands proud and breaks for it. Sounds of his heart thundered against his chest and he's trying so hard to ignore the fatigue in his legs.

Soon, he thinks, soon this will be all over. Soon everything will be back to normal and --

He trips over a stray log and watches over his shoulder as the shadow enigma creeps closer and closer until the screen fades to black.

Rin scowls as he watches the credits roll, seemingly unimpressed by the whole film, and is quick to find the remote to turn the TV off. "It's not the director's best work and the ending is completely different from the book." He complains, failing to realize that you've practically buried yourself underneath a mountain of pillows and plushies since the start of the movie. "I've heard the sequel is better, do you mind if we watch that tomorrow?"

You had no idea why you even agreed to join him on his sudden horror movie marathon. The whole genre made you queasy and leaves you feeling paranoid, wondering if the monsters on screen could come and haunt you next.

"Maybe we can watch Ponyo instead?" You suggest, voice muffled behind the stuffed animals.

"Ponyo?" Rin's teal eyes advert from the screen and now sees your shaken appearance and his gaze softens. "Was the movie that scary?" He says in a whisper.

Your head pokes out, teary-eyed and cheeks flushed. "Yeah."

His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm and calming embrace, as his slender fingers rake through your hair. You have no idea how he manages to stay composed after every horror movie and wonders if he could hear your own hammering heartbeat. "Please don't leave me in the dark."

A longing kiss is pressed against your forehead followed by a quiet string of apologies. "We can stay up however long you want tonight."

"And do we get to watch Ponyo tomorrow?"

You feel him smiling against your skin. "We can watch Ponyo."

⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°

Rough noises of tossing and turning are heard from the opposite side of the bed as Oliver slowly awakens from his deep slumber. He groggily calls out your name before taking in the time that flashed across his phone.

"Baby, is everything alright?" He sits up and leans against the headboard, arm reaching out to wiggle your sleepy figure.

A low groan escapes your lips and he soon recognizes that you're experiencing a nightmare. Oliver doesn't hesitate to pinch your cheeks and start tickling your sides, it was his favorite way of waking you up and is definitely a lot more effective compared to shaking.

Your moans soon turn into full-on laughing fits as his hands made their way up and down your waist and dance across your stomach. Your eyes shot open and you see your boyfriend's proud expression beaming in the moonlight.

You rolled your eyes before smacking his hungry fingers away, pulling the blankets closer to your violated body. "What was that for?"

"For the record, you woke me up first."

"I hardly believe that."

Oliver sighs and pinches your cheeks again. "No seriously, were you having a nightmare or something?" He watches your mouth contort into a deep frown and felt a tense shift in the air.

After a long pause, you smile sadly. "You left me for someone else."

Oliver mimics your expression and presses his entire body weight on top of you, earning a loud 'oof' from your lips. "It's just a crappy dream, don't think too much about it."

He feels your arms wrap around his neck, shaky breath against his skin. "Mhm, sorry I guess sometimes it's hard to not think about your past sometimes."

"Definitely not gonna leave you, if that's what you're thinking." He starts peppering your shoulders and collarbones with his stubby kisses. "You're mine no matter what, okay?"

You roll your eyes and gently punch his back, feeling slightly better now that he can't see your reddened face. "Whatever, I think you owe me a date night tomorrow."

He pulls away and fakes a pout. "All because you dreamt of me cheating on you?"

You tug on the collar of his t-shirt, pulling him in for a brief peck on the lips. "Especially because of that."

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - Chapter 7 'Linger' - Sneak Peek!

... and the Slack messages are back! What happens when Sarah announces a Mandatory All-Hands Meeting? Will she be able to keep it together? (The answer is no, no she can't). Chapter 7 out soon!

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

[hornyjail23]

So a thought has been bothering me for a while so I am finally going to write it.

Sub Beast x reader\group

A beast has been harassing the town. It hasn't hurt anyone but it has been taking things, stealing food and the occasional animal. Of course this made the locals upset. To avoid any further issues, the head of the town went and spoke with the chief of the beasts and an arrangement was made.

The beasts caught their trouble maker and handed him over to the town. Well sort of. They waited until nightfall and tied him outside of the village. They tied him down, bent over a log. They also stripped him of all his clothing and left him with a sign, we guess a warning to the other beasts, that read, "act like an animal, get treated like an animal."

They also had a make shift muzzle on him when we approached. He tried to growl and snap at us as we approached but ignored him. We found out he was a young man of his pack, thought it would be fun to prank the humans. To make up for his crimes, he was now at the mercy of the town.

With the clothes out of the way, we could see how strong he was. Plans immediately came up of having him work the fields, help plow to make up for the stolen produce. Others wanted him out in the woods, cutting trees to help build houses. As we talked, we continued to inspect him. Hands we grabbing his meaty arms and legs. Some were pulling his hair, saying to shave him to embarrass him when we eventually returned him to his pack. Some were inspecting his mouth, suggesting we can use him to hunt to replace the livestock he ate.

I was the first to notice something else. I grabbed his balls which caused him to howl and stop everyone from talking, "well there is one thing we can do with him until we decide the best action. And it seems he wouldn't mind." The others came up behind him to notice his engorged cock and knot bobbing out. The crowd stared at it for a moment. The beast wiggled, trying to close it's legs but couldn't from how his pack tied him down. He curled his tail down trying to cover with that. I grabbed is and held is up so everyone could see his cock. With the other hand I stroked his cock, "he fucked with us, shouldn't we fuck with him?"

Other hands then joined in. Someone grabbed a rope to tie his tail up and out of the way. Several hands were now grabbing it him. Some were grabbing his ass, starting to stretch him. Most were on his cock and knot, stroking it and squeezing, commenting on its size. I walked around to his mouth. I could see he was starting to droll. "If I untie your mouth, you aren't going to bite me are you?" He shook his head, I untied the muzzle and let it drop to the floor. He was panting heavily as is tongue rolled out.

I teased him, "you are supposed to be punished. You are enjoying this too much. I think we should stop." "No!" he whined, "please don't stop. Punish me! Use me!" Every one heard him and that just spurred everyone on. People we now stripping and lining up around him. I removed my pants and started fucking his mouth. His tongue was perfect, the way it reached out and cupped my balls. It wasn't long until I cummed in his mouth.

As I pulled my cock out and held his mouth for the next person, again teasing, "now what do you say?"

He moaned out, "thank you for punishing me."

They quickly begin fucking his face. As I went around to the otherside to watch. One person was fucking his ass as another laid below as they kissed and licked the cock and knot, his precum was leaking down the log. It wasn't long before the beast was howling into someone's crotch as he cummed against the log as human cum leaked from his ass.

Everyone there was having too much fun and decided to bring him to the center of town. They walked him in, muzzle back on, hands tied together with a rope tied to his knot, leading him into place. Once there, they tied him back down, this time on his back, with his arms and legs spread.

Once in this position, people began using the beast again. One was riding his cock as another fucked the beast's ass. Since his mouth was so large, 2 would us him at the same time. At one point, he was licking a woman's cunt, his tongue diving in and out of her as 2 men fucked either side of his mouth.

There soon became a competition of who would take the knot first. Men and women would ride his cock, getting stretched out, until they cummed on the cock. It took a while but someone finally fit the knot in as the beast cummed. They didn't realize but now they were locked on. And no one stopped. They continued to fuck the beast, filling and covering him in their cum. And since they were locked on, everytime the beast cummed, we would watch as the person moaned out as the cum would slowly leak out between them. It was hours later before the orgy slowed enough to let the person off. But as soon as they were off, someone else took there spot and started riding again.

It wasn't until late morning did the orgy stop. The beast was just a puddle of cum from itself and the whole town. We untied the beast and stated after last night, the punishment was fulfilled. Someone helped it down to the river to wash up.

But that night, in the center of town, the beast was back again. It was asking to be punished some more. And the town was more than happy to oblige.