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#Some books out of it to take to my mom's house and then I cleaned off the rest of the night stand because the stack of books to go t my
crimeronan · 2 days
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cleaned for 9 hours today, half of which was dedicated Just to a 5x2 foot space beside the bed that has been my Disaster Area for Literal Years. motivation being that i just got back from three weeks at my mom's house, which is VERY well-kept and organized, and that meant i could See Clutter for the first time in ages. i wanted to fix some shit before the ADHD blindness set back in.
accomplishments:
discovered a literal 5 years worth of dust in some corners. oops
found a Scary Biohazard (mold pillow. millow, if u will. it has now been disposed of.)
took out 4 forty-gallon bags of trash
took out 3 forty-gallon bags of recycling
found 8 months worth of one medication
and 4 months worth of another
and 9 months worth of a medication i no longer take and should dispose of
plus so many old steroids
and painkillers
and inhalers
and anti-nausea meds so i could keep down all the meds i used to be on
also found 3 years worth of saved birthday and christmas cards
and 8 books i'd forgotten i had down there
and several sets of gel pens
and 3 beautiful unused journals
and 2 delightful unused coloring books
and all the art of mine that fell off the walls months ago
found houses for everything i don't want Right Next To Me At All Times
reorganized everything on my bedside table
made notes for shelving and containers i need to get tomorrow
did 2 loads of dishes
decluttered the kitchen
fully unpacked from my trip
became less insane.
the apartment is not Clean yet because it is filled with corners and piles that will be their own little four-hour projects. but my bed space is clean for the first time since 2020 and we have clean dishes and all the trash bins are empty so it's now a lot easier to pick up after ourselves.
Nine Hours.
i'm gonna. go take a Very Hot Bath.
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fishtank32 · 10 months
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Please expect a serious slow down of my posting, especially fanart or drawings. I'll be getting a second job soon so I'll be busy every weekend from now on + plus my school is starting next month.
#josh speaks#i feel....so grown up... two jobs.. early college.... extra curriculars#/j but like ohhh my y god i am getting oldderrrr#n e wayz how have yall been. ik its been a hot minute since ive done much up here beside cry over legos and slenderman series from 2009#OH MY GODH SPEAKING OF LEGOSSSSSS#almost bought one of the new dr sets. bcs i want sora and arins minifigures#BUT ITS SO DAMN EXPANSIVE!!! SINCE WHEN DID THEY COST THIS MUCH?!?!?#so. we will just. have to wait til my next paycheck#ALSO my new job is cleaning houses again and i fucking hate it sorry ive cleaned houses and apartments before and its god awful#you think catering weddings are bad? go clean a giant 3 floor 28 room god knows how many baths big ass house in the middle of the southern#summer heat. that? truly makes me consider if i should kms. but the pay is good so 🤷‍♂️ tis whatever#id make like 100~ a week i think? so . more money to fuel my lego collection ig?#also also also. did an art trade with my friend AND THEIR ART IS SOOO SO CUTE LIKE STRAIGHT SEROTONIN OHMG#hope they like what i did but twas super super tired. so idk. oh also! watched good omens s1!! it was fun i enjoyed. reminded me of doom pat#rol a bit? that show was fun in its own right. so please expect good omens fanart . Eventually. hopefully before exam season🙏🙏#i need to re read all my bob books bcs my coach will chew me out if i forget everything but luckily i have like. a really good memory (lie)#im just rlly good at cramming books 1 hr before competition. yk how it js#nother reminder my reqs r open it just might take me a minute#got locked out of my tumblr acc on the web so that sucks. tis whatever . (its not im p upset)#oh i got my mom to watch nimona with me today!! she enjoyed. and put some nails on bcs i havnet done that in 4ever#alao bought new skirts today. this has eneded up me just telling yall abt my day but. lets be real for a sec i domt have anyone to rlly talk#to so. the tags of my tumblr posts will have to do. are the new eps of dr out yet or is it just leaks (ive been avoiding them like the plagu#e so far) ALSO#im like 60 percent sure ill be working as the stage manger for my schools next production PLEASE pray for me. i am going to DIE#(not rlly its just hell. HELL) and then that + work + college + BOB + highschool + wanting to post my drawings online#for a while its gonna be sketchbook spreads + doodles srry#oh also also also . would abyone like to see a few snippets of my sketchbook when its done? we r like almost there#hoping to finish it b4 school starts. and get my license. jesus christ theres so much to doo!!!!!!!!!!!!! i finally get what all those#shojou girls were complaining about!!! this is hard!!!!!!!!!!#anyways. tis all. farewell good friends. sincerely -fishtank32
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⋆ 「 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 (𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞) 𝐦𝐨𝐦. 」 ⋆
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feat. — toji fushiguro x f!reader, kid!megumi
word count. — 1.4k
content. — sfw, non-sorcerer au, established relationship (marriage), mostly just fluffy domestic stuff, reader is addressed as ‘mom/mama/mommy,’ toji’s kind of a bad parent but he’s working on it, brief mention of toji smoking (cigarettes), overprotective!toji, very minor suggestive themes (from toji 🙄 he’s a walking cw/tw)
notes. — idk. this has been incessantly on my brain pretty much from the moment i  woke up today, even to the point where i was writing half of this at  the laundromat lmao. mother’s day yesterday had me feeling some type of way, so here have some fun headcanons from a strange eldest daughter!!!! (i might end up doing a set of these for gojo x reader too 🤔)
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⋆ 「 — he’s not your biological son, but you’ve been around since you started seeing toji when megumi was still a baby. but now, a few years later, you might as well be his real mother. you certainly act like it and feel like it, so toji gladly initiates the conversation about official adoption. it just makes sense. you eventually explain the situation to megumi as best as you can simply so that he doesn't grow up thinking he was lied to or anything of the sort, but as far as he's concerned, you're his mom whether it's by blood or not.
⋆ 「 — and oh, megumi’s a mama’s boy. i imagine he’s just a little bit of a healthier kid vs. canon given the better family situation, but he’s still always a bit of a grumpy baby, appreciating his autonomy and trying to be as self-sufficient and mature as he can be. but he’ll most certainly run to you when he needs help, is truly hurt, or just needing a bit of comfort. you’ve always treated him so softly and kindly with understanding, so he honestly feels more comfortable coming to you most of the time instead of his dad.
⋆ 「 — he likes the way you organize the bookshelf in his room or fold and sort his clothes in special little ways. he gets upset any time toji tries to put a book back in the wrong place or can’t figure out where his damn socks are. gumi will scowl and say, “that’s not where it goes.” or go deadpan and be like, “mom always keeps the socks in the bottom drawer.” disappointed that his father can’t even remember. toji just grumbles and says, “your mama’s gonna ruin you.”
⋆ 「 — has called you 'mom' basically since he was old enough, but don't let him fool you. megumi will drop the big boy act and come out with 'mama' or 'mommy' when something's wrong or he's really excited. he'll come to you with quiet tears and sniffles, a little ashamed that he's crying, but present to you a scraped elbow, "mama... it hurts." you clean up the scrape and explain to him the little medical details in a somewhat understandable way to help him focus on something besides the pain, and you tell him that it'll be okay, and that it's alright to cry. or on the flip-side, you and toji take him to the zoo, little gumi on his dad's shoulders, and he gasps and points excitedly, "look, mommy! look at the big elephant!" and it feels incredible to see him be so spirited.
⋆ 「 — along the lines of the art from this post and the thought i had about it earlier, just imagine that you're at some event (maybe like a birthday party or something), and toji's been hauling megumi around. they're both so over it at this point and are like 'please get me out of this' so as soon as toji walks past the obnoxious inflatable bouncy house, he smirks and just YEETS that kid inside without a second thought. after regaining his breath, megumi just looks at his father with the most EVIL little scowl as other kids bounce around him with smiles. by the look on that child's face you could've swore that his father had just done him the ultimate betrayal.
so gumi slides out and hurriedly makes his way over to where you're sitting off to the side, quietly climbing into your lap for a little bit of solace. he wiggles in close to your chest and you tuck him under your chin with a ‘come here, sweetpea,’ rocking slowly and humming something soft because he always seems to like it when you do.
toji comes over and you look at him through narrowed eyes. "kids are supposed to like shit like that," he says.
"you know he likes when things are more quiet," you respond, and toji rolls his eyes at how you seemingly spoil your son.
"just thought it might be good for him to try and get along with the other brats." toji tries to cover up the fact that he tossed his kid for the sheer personal enjoyment of it.
you huff in disbelief. "oh, like you get along so well with everyone?"
he scoffs and moves in behind you, leaning down to place a kiss on your neck. "i get along with you," he says almost suggestively.
you just keep stroking megumi's hair and give the top of his head a gentle kiss. "yeah, well not today," you say, shooting a smug, resolute smile towards your husband, ultimately taking his son's side.
⋆ 「 — outside of his alone time, megumi would honestly much rather be with you instead of other children. toji thinks it's probably unhealthy and you're inclined to agree, but you also don't want to force megumi into situations that will just make him miserable. so, when appropriate, you don't mind at all pacing around with him in your arms or have him walk next to you (maybe holding your hand if he’s not in a ‘big boy’ mood), teaching him about the things you see in the woods, the park, or even the museum. when toji's not away working, he'll join too because it admittedly makes his heart feel soft to watch you two together. it always has, because you've been doing this with megumi since he was a baby. it never gets old. if it wasn't already so difficult trying to figure out how to do things right by his son, he'd want you to give him even more babies.
⋆ 「 — megumi likes doing things with his dad sometimes too, though. toji tries his best to do it right and watch both his mouth and his temper. you like seeing them getting along, even if it's just quietly watching tv or a movie (probably a cartoon where toji gets kind of into and will ask the occasional question like "why does that one stupid chick keep doing that?" and megumi just shrugs like, "i dunno. she is pretty dumb.") or playing ball outside because gumi's starting to show some athleticism. but you have to remind toji that he can't always be so rough or competitive with games because megumi is literally a child.
⋆ 「 — toji can also be way too overprotective of you two at times. you'll be out and about and he'll just be wearing such an intimidating expression as he walks behind you both, on the lookout for anyone who might want to cause trouble or take the wrong sort of glance at his wife. he'll even snap at people for walking too close or like cutting in line or something petty, and you have to tell him stop acting like an attack dog and looking like the grim reaper because dear god you're literally just having lunch at the park. even at his age, megumi's just eating his ice cream and looking at his dad with his little baby deadpan expression and thinking "this man really needs to take a chill pill." other times he can be more relaxed, however, obviously confident in his ability to protect you. it depends on his mood. but that still doesn’t stop him from being embarrassing and going off on people in public if something happens.
⋆ 「 — you also know all of gumi’s favorite meals and snacks. it’s yet another one of those things where, if his dad does it wrong, megumi expresses a disappointment beyond his years. toji will be making and packing his son’s school lunch just as instructed by the notes you gave him, but it’s by no means as neat and meticulous as when you do it. toji’s got a cigarette hanging out of his mouth with furrowed, concentrating brows, his free hand shakily reaching for a cup of fresh coffee, and megumi’s standing there with his little backpack, criticizing his father the entire time. “mom doesn’t do it like that,” he says.
“well mom ain’t here right now. and it doesn’t matter how the sandwich is cut, is still tastes the damn same.”
gumi doesn’t even physically react, still wearing the same neutral expression, just waiting for his dad to hurry up. “mom says you shouldn’t smoke. and she also says not to use bad words.”
toji scoffs and then smirks. “well mommy uses all sorts of bad words you don’t even know about when her and daddy have play time.”
megumi’s already almost late for school and can barely feel his feet from how tight his dad tied his shoelaces. he also asks you later about “play time,” and you want to absolutely murder your husband over it.
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romanarose · 3 months
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Misunderstanding
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Marc Spector x fem!reader
Join my taglist! Masterlist Read on ao3
Summary: When the boys come home early and see boxes all packed and furniture on the street, Marc jumps to the worst option. Clearly, you're leaving him.
Warnings: PIV sex, wall sex, oral f!recieving, manhandling, rough needy smut but loving and passionate, anxiety attack, Marc's self loathing but reader adores him. Calling Marc all kinda of cute nick names.
Immersability: Reader is fem, afab. Reader can be largly supported against the wall by Marc's strong arms <3
A/N: Commission done for @minigirl87 thank you SOOOOOOO much for your patience!!! Next time I do commissions i need to not do them right before moving. Left me quite behind. Anyway appreciate you so much!
Support creators! Reblog!
2.2k words
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Chaos made Marc anxious.
So, that’s why you decided to do spring cleaning while he and the boys were at work, hoping to get most of it done before the boys returned from work. What threw all your plans out of whack was a chance spotting on facebook marketplace. The prettiest furniture you’ve ever seen in your life was for fucking free. The owners were cleaning out the house from their mom who just passed, and just wanted the furniture to go to someone who’d love it like their mom did. And boy did you love it. The style was French Louis XVI. Fucking beautiful. So, you were making room. 
A lot was going to be given away with permission from your boys, and you’d be doing a lot of reorganizing of Steven’s books. A lot of trash, oh my god so much trash. Marc sure did love take out, even if it drove Jakey crazy. Then your old furniture was hauled out into the street for the garbage on tuesday, or some desperate soul. You hadn’t quite gotten to organizing Steven’s books and papers, but the trash was picked up, floors swept and mopped, and the old furniture was out. You needed to pick up your dream furniture, so you hopped into your car.
Steven was elated he got to go home early. It was only an hour, but that’s an hour more with you!!! You loved extra time with you!! There was a spring in his step, happily humming along to some song on Jake’s playlist on their phone. 
Until he saw it.
‘Aye, ¿que es?’ Jak asked, interrupting Steven’s happy thoughts.
Marc. ‘Is that… our furniture?’ 
“Oh my god…” Steven murmurs, slowing his steps. All their things were on the street.
‘She’s leaving us.’
“Oh, will you calm the hell down.” But Steven was a little nervous. He walks up the apartment stairs, ready to find you and get it all sorted out but… you weren’t there. The place looked so bare, so empty… The pictures on the walls were taken down, all the memories together, clothes were half-sorted in the bedroom and sheets off the bed…
You were gone. You didn’t want them anymore.
Marc took the body, pulling out his phone and calling you multiple times, but you went straight to voicemail.
“She’s done with us” Marc groans, backing against the wall. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
‘Mate, you need to calm down’ Steven tried to assure Marc, but he was nervous too.
Marc slid down the wall, beginning to panic. “Not this again…”
Jake and Steven attempted to tell him there’s another reason, logically.
‘She wouldn't just us… leave us’ Jake insisted. ‘She’s not like that. She’d tell us if there was an issue.’
None of this helped calm Marc, and he mentally checked out, sitting against the wall on the floor staring out the window.
That’s how you found Marc, dissociating and mentally checked out when you got home.
“Marcy Marc? Baby? Are you okay?” You toss your keys onto the counter and approach him, but stop when he suddenly jerks towards you like a scared animal.
Marc looks up, eyes wide and mouth agape as he scrambles to stand up. “Holy shit, you’re here…” He mutters, dashing over to you. “Baby, whatever it is, I swear to god I’ll fix it-” Marc hugs you so tightly it knocks the breath out of you with the force of him, strong arms wrapped tightly around you. Normally, you loved his bear hugs, they made you feel safe and oh-so loved, but right now his actions warned you he was upset. You always knew when your man was in distress, even when he tried to hide it. He wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry-”
You hug him right back. “Marc, honey, what’s going on? You didn’t do anything wrong.” That you know of, but honestly you couldn’t foresee Marc, Jake or Steven doing anything bad enough for you to be upset about. Only thing would be… Gently, so he knows you aren’t rejecting his affection, you nudge him away so you can look in his eyes. However, you keep hold on his arms. Marc’s love language was physical touch, so you always showed your love to him this way.
“Baby…” You look into his eyes, keeping your tone and facial expressions soft. “Have you heard from Khonshu lately?”
Confusion spreads on Marc’s face, his already large eyes widening. “No! Nonononono is that what this is about? You thought I was with Khonshu again?”
You were confused too. “I didn’t think anything was happening until I came home and you were against the wall. Marc, sweetheart.” You search his face for answers. “Can you just tell me what’s going on? I’m confused.”
He sputters a bit, trying to find the words. “Y-you’re leaving! You’re leaving us…”
You blink at him. “Huh? I’m not leaving you, god Marc, whatever got you this worked up? Sweetie, I’ve never been happier than with you three…”
“The furniture is on the street… Things are packed up… And, and and- the pictures! The pictures, they’re are taken down, our whole life together is off the walls-”
Ah. “Marc…” You realize what happened now. “Oh sweetheart, sweetie pie… I’m not leaving you. I’m doing spring cleaning. Remember, last week we went over what I could give away?”
The recognition slowly starts to spread across his face. “But… the pictures…”
“I took them down to wash the walls.”
“Oh… and the furniture?” It was beginning to click for him. This was all a misunderstanding.
You smile softly. “I found the coolest furniture. Steven will love it.”
He blinked. And again. “So… you don’t hate me?”
Your heart nearly broke at his words. “Oh Marc, no!” You gather him up in your arms again. “My sweet, sweet man I could never!”
You see his lip quiver a bit, but instead of crying Marc crashes his mouth into yours, large hands groping at your body with a fevur, like he couldn't believe you were real, that you were still here, still wanted him.
And he needed you.
“C’mere-” He grunted, gripping your asscheeks and pulling you towards him as he kisses you, mouth claiming yours in desperation.
Instantly you were filled with desire; Marc tended to do that to you. He was so handsome, so kind, so gentle you couldn’t help giving your all to him right away. Marc backed you up against the wall, the hand behind your head preventing you from smacking it against the plaster. He always looked out for you like that. You could feel his hardness as his wide hips ground into you, his plump pressed stomach against yours. You love how he’s softened, still so strong, but the safety of your home and the very idea that he wasn’t on the run and living in storage units… His body felt as safe as his mind did.
Marc’s mouth consumed you, licking into your mouth as his knee rid up between your legs. In loose, thin basketball shorts you felt his thick, manly thighs and sigh and pleasure.
“Marc…” You moan for him, unable to control the sounds of pleasure from escaping your mouth as you work yourself on his body. Hitching a leg up against his side, you cling to Marc for stability as he uses his grip on your ass for leverage, dragging you up and down on him. Marc’s kisses are insatiable, you feel as if he is attempting to breathe you in with heavy pants, kissing your lips and neck. Your face is wet from the open-mouth kisses.
Suddenly, and without warning, just as you are approaching the precipice humping his thigh, Marc pulls away and for a moment you think he got in his own head again, but then you are turned, face pressed against the wall but not painfully. Marc pulls your hips out, bends down to pull down your shorts and fucking picks you up by your pressed together legs to pull the shorts away. If that wasn’t sexy enough, he then kicks apart your ankles forcing your legs open. You aren’t even sure when Marc undid his pants, but before you know it, he is thrusting into your pliant and waiting body.
“M-Marc…” You repeat, his name the only thing on your mind is his name and his cock. Okay and maybe his hand wrapping around your front and snaking up your body. He plays with your grunts, grunting with his breaths hot against your ear and in time to the slamming thrusts of his hips. You brace against the wall, pushing your ass out more to take more of his length inside you.
“Thought I lost you…” He mutters, face tucked into your neck. 
“Never, never Ma- AH!” You cry out when he  squeezes a tit hard, pressing bruises through your shirt. “You-mmmph-you’re stuck with me.”
He pounds your core, rough thrusts mixed with soft kisses. You tilt your head back, desperate for his mouth, his love, his affection yours. He obliges, always knowing what you need and meeting your mouth to sloppily make out with you like horny teenagers. It was needy, it was desperate, it was Marc’s complete and utter relief that he was not going to be left shattered. He filled you over and over and again, the fat tip of his cock pressing up against that beautiful spot inside you. When you came, it was hard, pulsing on his cock again and again and again. Marc wrapped his arm under your middle as your legs began to feel like jell-o. 
“Mine.” He growls, spilling his cum inside you. “Fucking mine. Don’t every fucking scare me like that again.”
You want to tell him you didn’t that he jumped to his own conclusions but you were barely standing when he twirled you around again. Dropping to his knees, Marc looked up at you, large and wet brown eyes gazing at you in adoration. He was beautiful, so fucking beautiful…
“I won’t…” You whisper down to his hopeful face. “I promise. I love you so much.”
With a relieved look on his face, Marc smiles at you and god is it nice to see him smile. “I love you too, baby.” With that, he hitches a leg over his shoulder and dives into your pussy. Between his cum and yours, it’s a mess down there and that’s further evidenced by the absolutely obscene sounds coming from his mouth as he sluuuurped up the evidence of your time together. Marc was eager, eating his own cum out of you while keeping your supported against the wall. You knew he wouldn’t let you fall. His tongue swirled against your clit, making you buck against him so one hand pinned your hips to the wall. He ate like this was his last meal, like his salvation came from your pleasure.
When he sucked on the sensitive nub, you cry out his name and dig your fingers into Marc’s dark curls, keeping him close to you. As if he’d ever leave. You were close again, the whirling swirling feeling deep inside you continuing to build like a twister into a tornado as you chant Marc, Marc, Marc like the repetition of a Rosary. His tongue flicked inside you, one hand keeping you upright against the wall and the other playing with your clit, making you come apart directly into his mouth.
You pull on his hair so hard you worry you’re hurting him but the way Marc shoves his face into you even harder spurs you on. You can hear and feel him moaning into you as he laps up your release, a soft mmmmmm reverbating against your pussy and prolonging it as you ride his face. Your left leg is so tired, so sore, starting to wobble and Marc notices as he finally pulls away. Marc helps you slide down the wall, landing you safely on your bottom.
On his hands and knees, Marc Spector crawls to you, kissing your lips tenderly but you can see his own exhaustion too. Cupping his face in both your hands, you kiss Marc as you lay him down on your naked lap. You’re surprised with how quickly Marc’s full lashes flutter closed, his head resting between the crux of your thigh and stomach.
You play with his hair. He seems so tired, today must’ve taken it out of him. After a whole day of work, coming home to thinking you were gone. You know how anxiety can physically drain you.
“That really scared you, huh?” You say, petting him like a cat. You swear you can hear him pur.
Marc talks soft, sleepy, eyes never opening. “Yeah. Thought I lost you… I can’t do that.”
“I’ll never leave you, sweetie. And I’d certainly never leave like that… But I know how anxiety can be.”
His voice was groggy with sleep, quiet and muttered. “Yeah, it fuck’n sucks.” 
You can’t help but chuckle. “It does, baby, it does. But I’m here, and I ain’t going nowhere. Can’t get rid of me if you tried, Spector.”
He hums constantly, and in another moment, Marc is snoring softly. He’s so cute.
Then, he’s snoring loudly.
Why didn’t Steven and Jake snore? Made no fucking sense.
Sighing, you settle back against the wall and maneuver enough to grab your shorts without waking your sleeping, tuckered out little boyfriend. You pull out your phone, take a few cute pictures (some with flowery or silly snapchat filters) then go play Candy Crush. He needed to rest.
Mostly, because he had a long day and was so so adorable when he was sleeping even if he was loud as all goddamn hell.
But also, you still had several pieces of furniture sitting in your car and there was no way you were going to move all of them yourself.
*************
We love a reader who can take care of an anxious baby <3
Thank you so much for reading!!!! This is my first marc, or any moon knight in a few months. I MISSED HIIIIIIMMMMMMMM
My beloved one <3
MY MOON KNIGHT RETURN IS HERE!!!!!!
I got a dark reader x marc coming up IF I OULD EVER GET A GOOD KNIGHTS SLEEP follow @romana-after-dark for that
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starry-bi-sky · 2 months
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I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.
Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.
And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.
Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.
They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.
When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.
Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.
When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.
"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.
"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.
Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.
Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.
Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.
When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.
Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.
because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far
when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)
danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.
and god help him, he's going to help people.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#dpxdc prompt#this is just me torturing danny for a little bit because im stressed and i cried for an hour while i was driving so im taking it out on B#thanks for being my little stress ball danny#aha my old middle school habit of frankensteining two characters together is resurfacing again :) yall should've seen my wattpad drafts#in middle school. i had 50 of them and most of them were me combining two characters together to make one person and putting them in one au#my most memorable being skydoesminecraft and harry potter. THAT was a fun worldbuilding experience#do i think that growing up with the fentons would fix bruce/danny completely?? hurm. no. dont kid yallselves jazz is not a licensed#therapist not even at like. nine when she meets danny. she's not helping him through his trauma in the slightest. she's nagging.#she's his sister or sister-like figure before she's his therapist. would he be#*entirely* like canon bruce tho?? no. dannybruce is a mix of the both of them. but this is still the first post of the au and is more so#just me doing the equivalent of popping a stress ball so nothing is smoothed over. mostly im just trying to keep bruce's trauma prominent i#danny's character because he IS Bruce. i dont want him to just be 'danny with bruce's backstory but without any of the ugly bits'.#danny and bruce is used interchangeably because they're the same person but sorry if his personality feels imbalanced i came up with this o#the spot. was going to type more but the stress has left me. for now. watch ur back danny 👀
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ghxstlike · 6 months
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you shut my mouth (and buckle my knees)
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pairing: mike schmidt/gn!reader
content: reader is michael's next door neighbor, mike is so awkward, mike has social anxiety & is bad at words, reader is so oblivious, reader is 19 & mike is 20/21, reader has daddy issues, fluff, this takes place before the events in the movie, no use of y/n.
summary: mike’s been avoiding you recently, and you automatically think he’s mad at you. when babysitting abby, she tells you the truth about his feelings about you.
author's note: the title is a lyric from ‘i want to be with you’ by chloe moriondo! also!! the fnaf movie is AMAZING and it’s one of my favorite movies now. this is cross posted on ao3!! enjoy :)
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he’s never this quiet.
he’s always somewhat quiet, yeah, but not deathly silent. and he usually doesn’t avoid you, either.
being a babysitter is something you never expected when you moved into the house right next mike’s. you moved in about a year ago with your mom, due to her divorce with your dad. your dad wasn’t the greatest man, nor the best dad. he never left, but he was never involved in your life. so, your mom was pretty much a single mom. your mom wanted to move far away from your dad, landing up in the middle of absolutely nowhere.
a few days after moving in, your mom introduced you to mike and his little sister abby. the first time you’ve ever seen mike was…awkward, to say the least. you could tell mike wasn’t very comfortable in the conversation at first, with the way he swung back and forth on his heels. you, on the other hand, couldn’t focus with the most hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life standing in front of you. you loved the shade of brown his eyes were, they reminded you of a beautiful forest in the fall, late at night.
mike voiced to you both about how his recent babysitter wasn’t returning his calls and wasn’t showing up, so you stepped up to be abby’s new babysitter. you’re glad you did, since now you’re able to do fun things during the day and not sit in your room reading some lame book. you don’t get paid much, but that was the least of your worries.
now, you’re in the kitchen cleaning dishes. it was about 8 pm, so abby was already fast asleep. you and abby baked cookies and there was already a huge mess. in the middle of mixing the wet and dry ingredients together to make a dough, abby pinched up a bit of flour and threw it at you. you looked up at her with an exaggerated gasp and a hand over your heart. to play with her little charade, you grabbed a tiny bit and threw in her direction. the fight of throwing flour between the two of you suddenly stopped as mike walked through the door. a feeling of guilt ran through your body when you realized what you’ve done, but there was still a huge smile on your face as you waved at him.
ever since then, he’s been sitting on the couch watching some sort of old cartoon. he usually stays in the kitchen with you, sitting at the table and talking about your day with abby. out of seemingly no where, mike stopped this routine. it bummed you out, obviously, but you didn’t want to force him to talk to you.
you sigh, grabbing the green and yellow sponge that was placed next to the sink. your mind began to wander, thinking about earlier that day. you feel terrible, but you just wanted abby to have a bit of fun. you shouldn’t have let it go that far.
you know how it feels to start something fun, and have it end up with your body filling with shame and embarrassment. especially at abby’s age. the last thing you want abby to feel is embarrassment from an adult. you also never wanted mike to be mad at you, but you have a slight feeling he already is.
you sigh again as you realize you haven’t apologized to mike about what he walked into. you bite your lip, turning around to see mike still sitting on the couch, eyes fixated on the TV.
you gently place the remainder of the dishes in the dishwasher, then quietly walk over to mike. you sit on the same couch as him, but on the other end of it. you look down at your lap, your eyes tracing the all the lines in your palm. after a few moments of being silent yourself, you speak up.
“mike?” you say in a hushed voice. his response was almost immediate.
he hums, eyes flicking to you and back at the screen. “yeah?”
his flat, low voice always made you feel warm inside. making your heart and stomach flutter with butterflies. but this time, the warmth that his voice brings goes directly down to your stomach, twisting it with anxiety. his whole presence made you feel giddy, like you were in high school with a newly founded crush. you swallow thickly before you speak again.
“i just wanted to apologize for earlier.” you pause, trying to find the right words to say and not mess this up. you want mike to speak to you, you want mike to spend time with you, you just miss him. “i-i shouldn’t have let it get that far.” you murmur.
mike doesn’t say anything at first, he just looks over at you again and nods. “you’re good.”
your stomach churns at his dry response. you nod at him, wiping your clammy hands on your jean-clad knees. “i should get going,” you say under your breath. again, mike doesn’t respond. he just watches you walk to the door, putting on your shoes in a hurry.
mike runs a hand through his curly hair, trying to figure out what he wants to say. he wants to say something, atleast a goodnight, but nothing comes out. you were too busy tying up your shoes to notice his conflicting face.
you open the front door of mike’s home and look over your shoulder. “have a good night, mike.” you say with a smile. mike’s hand does a slight wave, not returning the smile. you shut the door quietly, feeling absolutely crushed.
one of mike’s hands run down his face, hating himself for not saying something before you left. he also hated the way his heart clenched as you looked so sad when you walked out the door. “god dammit.” he grumbled to himself.
days have passed from that night. mike is still avoiding you, and being extremely quiet around you. you know it’s just you he’s being quiet around, since you hear him arguing with abby when you enter his home in the afternoon. just the thought of mike being mad at you pains you to your core, so much so that you avoid him yourself. you feel absolutely terrible, but stirring the pot could make it worse.
mike obviously notices your recent behavior, but didn’t say anything about it. instead, he’d think about it deeply when he’s in bed late at night. for weeks, he’d sleep terribly, just staying up all night figuring out what to say to you to make things better. he misses talking to you, he misses hearing your beautiful laughter and how your eyes sparkle with life when you talk about your interests.
today wasn’t very eventful, it was rather peaceful. you and abby sat at the dinner table, drawing each other pictures and talking. you noticed a drawing she was finished with and picked it up. it seemed to be you, mike, and abby all holding hands in front of a house. you smile softly, glancing up at abby, who’s doodling away with a yellow crayon. you look back down at the artwork and notice a small detail between the drawing of you and mike.
“abs?” you call out, not looking up from the paper. you hear a quiet clank as abby set down her crayon.
“yes?” she looks up at you, a slight smile apparent on her face. you set down the paper and slide it over to her. she looks down at her art, then back up at you.
“what’s up with the heart between me and mike?” you question, your stomach filling with nerves.
abby shrugs, the smile on her face never faltering as she talks. “he likes you, duh.” she giggles.
you sit up straight as your eyes widen. “what?” you whisper. your mind is running wild with all sorts of thoughts- he likes you?
“mike talks about you all the time,” she explains, picking up the yellow crayon again. “i hear him talking to himself about how-”
“abby.”
both of your heads snap toward the front door. it’s mike, he seems angry; his face is a slight pink and his hand is tightly clutching onto his bookbag that’s slung over his shoulder. abby quickly gathers up all of her art supplies that were scattered across the table and flees to her room, giggling loudly. you watch her run, smiling at her cute antics.
you hear a chair being pulled out and see that mike is sitting across from you. the picture of the three of you remains. mike only glances at it and seems to wince with a clenched jaw. he doesn’t look happy at all. you bite the inside of your cheek, getting all wrapped up in your head about what mike is thinking.
abby clearly had a misunderstanding of what mike was actually feeling. she had to.
minutes pass, and not a single word is said. to save your embarrassment (and his), the chair under you screeches as you stand up. “i-i’ll leave,” you suddenly mumble. you don’t notice the way mike’s head snaps up, watching you start to make your way to the door.
mike calls out your name before you’re able to reach the door. “stay,” he pauses to clear his throat. “uh, please.”
you turn around to see mike staring at you with his eyebrows slightly raised. without hesitation or any word, you sit back down. “is everything okay?” your voice sounds so soft, it makes mike’s heart melt.
he nods quickly, scratching the back of his neck. you can see that one of mike’s legs are bouncing and you can see sweat build up on his forehead. he loosens his tie, which makes your whole body warm up. you could feel the warmth spread throughout your limbs, stopping at your toes and fingertips.
“you don’t look okay, a-are you sick?” you exclaim with a worried look on your face. mike shakes his head no, huffing out a laugh.
“no, i’m okay, promise.” a grin appears on his face, amused with your sudden worry. “i just- abby wasn’t lying.” he blurts out, his eyes not meeting yours. you seemed to have a confused expression, so he went further. “when she said i like you.”
oh.
“oh.”
mike looks back at you, seeing that you’re completely and utterly flustered. he was right, you don’t see him the way he sees you. he feels himself sweat more, “is there something wrong?”
“no! no, no,” you ramble, laughing awkwardly. “is that why you were avoiding me for weeks on end?” you ask, your voice getting into a higher pitch. mike nods silently, eagerly awaiting for your response.
now that you think about it, everytime that you were in close contact with mike, his whole body would tense up and his face would turn pink. you almost hit yourself for not noticing sooner. instead, you laugh quietly. one of mike’s eyebrows raise, looking at you with a confused expression.
“i thought you were mad at me.” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers.
mike’s expression softens, “why would i be mad at you?”
“the day where abby and i made a mess out of the kitchen with flour,” you replied with a shrug. “that was the day where you started avoiding me.”
mike’s mouth opened, then closed. he did this a few times before finally saying: “that day was when i realized i liked you.”
you stayed silent as he continued. “i really didn’t mean to avoid you, but i just..” he stops and takes a deep breath. “i just, y’know, couldn’t find words when i was around you.”
your heart almost skipped a beat at his words, smiling ever so brightly at him. you felt so many emotions in that moment, where mike felt like he was about to faint from how pretty you look when you smile. he gives you a grin in return.
“i like you, too.” you say, still smiling. you giggle as mike sighs in relief.
his hand reaches over the table to grab yours. his hand is a little sweaty, but you don’t mind a bit.
he clears his throat, “that means i can take you on a date, right?”
you squeeze his hand tightly and nod before you realize something.
“who will babysit abby?”
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creedslove · 8 months
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WHO KNEW? 💍💔
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No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
"You took my hand, you showed me how
You promised me you'd be around (...)
I took your words and I believed in everything you said to me (...)
If someone said three years from now, you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out, 'cause they're all wrong
I know better, 'cause you said forever, and ever, who knew?"
Summary: You and Joel had been married for a few months when he broke things up with you because he'd fallen in love with someone else, Sarah's mom. You parted ways but more than a decade later you end up meeting Sarah and that leads you to face your ex-husband one more time
• Inspired by this amazing HEADCANON request ❤️
Warnings: angst, broken hearts, asshole!Joel, divorce, infidelity, pregnancy, fluff (a little, maybe?) age gap (Joel is four to five years older than reader and the time skip is 12 to 14 years (Sarah's age) but feel free to imagine whatever you want)
A/N: Hi guys!!! I got obsessed with this story ever since I received that ask and turned into a headcanon but it wasn't enough, I had to write a longer, fuller version of this story! I think it's so appealing because we are all used to Joel being our knight in shining armor, always the perfect husband/boyfriend and well, here we can see another part of him. It's not a crime to fall in love with someone else, but the way he broke reader's heart was very mean. Also, I didn't specify reader's profession, just keep in mind she studied A LOT and now she makes good money, but feel free to idealize her job the way you want. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, besties ❤️
10.6k words
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You never really understood why some people told you getting married so young would be a mistake. It didn't make sense to you, at all. You and your soon-to-be husband Joel, were young, yes, but you loved each other deeply. You figured it didn't take much more than that to make a happy marriage.
You were fresh from highschool, always had good grades and it didn't take long for you to be accepted in many different institutions, and yet, you decided it would be a good idea to take a sabbatical year in order to get yourself sorted out, maybe get a job and save up some money and enjoy your marriage a little. Joel was very supportive of you, even if he knew you would eventually leave for college and you would both have to make it work long distance.
Joel was just a couple of years older, he'd just left the military and he also needed to know what to do in life, in order to support his wife, he didn't have the book smarts his girl did, but he was kind-hearted and hard-working. He also hadn't planned on getting married that young, but before he could even try to make any sense out of it, he was deeply in love with you.
So Joel proposed, you said yes, his dad helped him get a small, but cute house and the two of you started your new wed life.
For the first few months, everything was a bed of roses; you were so in love, that man was simply intoxicating. His touches, his kisses, his body, his smell, everything about him was addictive to you and you couldn't be without it.
You had found yourself a part time job as a sales clerk at a baby clothes store at the mall, just as Joel was working as an apprentice in the construction business, it was a very hard job, and just in a matter of a couple of months, you saw your boyfriend becoming bigger and more muscular. He worked hard for you, for your relationship, your marriage and the future family you would build in a couple of years. Even if your friends had told you it was madness getting married so young and your family had asked you not to do it, everything was just fine, what could go wrong?
Every single day, Joel would come back home, tired from work, and he would be welcomed by you in your fullest housewife version. Dinner all ready, house spotless clean and a loving wife dying to be in his arms. He would not disappoint you, taking you into his arms, lifting you up, pressing you against the wall, his kisses were so urgent, so needy of you, his hands roamed all over your body as you felt his cock throbbing. Every night next to your handsome husband Joel was a delight, it was your personal piece of heaven, nothing could stop the two of you when you were together, but eventually, it happened.
You didn't know exactly how it started, or when for that matter, it was all a thick fog in your mind, being unable to say precisely when your marriage began falling apart. Perhaps it happened sooner than you thought but you were just too naive or too blind to see; first thing you noticed, were the kisses; they were gone. No kissing before going to work in the morning but you shrugged it off, thinking that maybe Joel was just in a rush to get to work. Though you really missed them, your skin seemed to burn and ache for his touch, you didn't want to seem like a clingy wife, or nag him with unimportant things. Whenever he came back from work, he was still all yours; that's why it took you long enough to notice it.
Every evening, he came back with the same hunger he felt, only this time, he didn't seem to have felt that hunger for you per se, more like a desire within that needed to have you to help him relieve it.
He took you every single night, he gave you pleasure, simple, raw, indifferent pleasure. You didn't actually remember the last time you actually made love, because everytime Joel touched you, he always had you on your hands and knees for him, always fucking you on your back. At the time you thought it was just some kink or something like that, but now it was pretty clear to you it was just the easiest way for Joel to close his eyes and pretend you were someone else.
It was just simply fucking, a means to get to an end.
Then, he began getting home later and later, sometimes he would be too late for dinner, or he would just skip it entirely. Never explaining exactly what he was doing or why he was spending less and less time at home.
"Sorry babe, just had a sandwich with the guys"
That's what he would say before shrugging and going straight to the bedroom; not taking his time to actually see you'd cooked his favorite or that you were starving because you'd waited for him until that hour. The weekends weren't different at all, at first, right after you two got married, you'd spend the entire day in bed, just enjoying each other's company, each other's bodies and love; caresses full of affection carried with lust, turned into nothing more than just a memory some months later. Every weekend Joel simply got up, had breakfast and told you he was heading for work; and he would spend the entire day there, no phone calls to let you know he wouldn't be back for lunch nor calls to tell you he would grab a few drinks with the guys.
Always the guys, and as much as you tried to convince yourself it was indeed just one drink, or a burger, or a soccer match with the guys, your heart was sending you signals, trying to warn you there was something seriously wrong. Yet, you chose not to believe it, you told yourself it was actually kind of cruel of you to have such thoughts about your poor hard-working husband. What kind of wife would you be if you became paranoid while Joel was just working hard to provide you a good life?!
Joel was so busy with his work he barely even noticed when you asked for a double shift on Saturdays. Not that you liked working at the mall, but if you were going to stay alone all the time, you figured you would at least earn some money. Maybe Joel was just stressed about having to put up with the bills all by himself, you reminded yourself. Perhaps things would be back at what they were in the beginning, you were now marking six months of marriage and you knew this wasn't supposed to be happening. Your husband wasn't supposed to be that uninterested in you, he wasn't supposed to be indifferent towards your presence or so ungrateful, and yet you decided to fight for his love, after all, you loved him more than anything, more than anyone, it was an overwhelming feeling but you simply couldn't move on from it.
You waited for Joel another night, you'd made dinner, but of course he said he wasn't very hungry because he had grabbed a bite to eat with the guys.
Your heart clenched, he didn't kiss you, nor held you, it was like you were two different people sharing the same house; not lovers, not husband and wife, perhaps not even friends anymore. It felt each time more and more empty next to Joel, but you tried. You sat down and had dinner on your own, as he glued himself to the TV, watching whatever it was on. You knew him enough to know his mind was drifting away, thinking of something or someone, you weren't sure, the only thing you were a hundred percent sure was that he did everything at his willpower so he wouldn't have to spend time with you. It hurt, like a knife piercing through your chest, it was humiliating and you still didn't know why you were insisting. You swallowed after dinner and walked to the couch, he was nearly asleep and you ran your hands through his hair, feeling how soft his curls were; you had missed dearly times like that, it had been only a few months prior and yet, it felt like an eternity. The way your Joel would come to you, crave your touch, and just overall pay attention to you, unlike the haunting reality that you had to face, in which your husband simply began to ignore you, as if you weren't much more than a shadow, or an invisible and yet quite annoying presence. You looked down at his sleepy and peaceful form, he always looked so young and innocent when he slept it always warmed your heart.
The tip of your fingers ran through his scalp once more, he had always loved that particular display of affection. Minutes passed while you stroked his hair, you could feel Joel shifting softly under your touch, satisfied groans coming out like purrs as he began to slowly open his eyes
"Angela.." he murmured under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to catch it.
At that moment you felt as if you'd lost all balance, gripping the couch and staring at him in disbelief
"Who's Angela?" Your voice suddenly loud and serious, making Joel snap away from the sleeping haze he was in and stare into your eyes. He was carefully not to give it away immediately
"What are you talking about?" He got up from the couch, determined to turn his back to you
"You said a name. Angela, who's she?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Y/N, stop being crazy"
Your blood boiled at the accusation.
For months all you did was try to be the perfect housewife, you cooked, cleaned, worked and brought home the little money you made in order to win back your husband's attention, not only that, you didn't want to have to give away to everyone who told you you would be making a mistake by marrying so young. It had been so difficult to actually admit to yourself your marriage was at a risk, and now you just had enough proof. After months of indifference, your husband was now mumbling another woman's name; as if it wasn't bad enough, he was trying to make the tables turn by accusing you of being crazy. That was so typical of men, but not of your Joel, you thought he would never do that, you were so sure he was honest, honorable, a decent human being, he wouldn't hurt you on purpose in order to prove his point. Or so you thought.
"Don't you fucking dare call me crazy, Joel Miller, for the past couple of months you haven't given a shit about me, you're never home, you never spend time with me, you don't hug me, don't kiss me, you don't even fuck me anymore, and now you are mumbling someone else's name? Who's she? Is she your mistress? How long have you been with her?"
Again, you tried being strong, you really did, but your voice cracked, and the tears threatening to escape now ran freely down your cheeks, he'd walked away from you, but you managed to corner him in the kitchen, you were tired of being blinded by your own feelings, at the same time you were tired of being played by Joel, he had no right to act that way.
"Answer me, Joel!!! Who's the fucking whore?!" You yelled at him, the impatience and anxiety creating an explosive combination inside of you. You were so close to solving the mystery that haunted you at the same time you didn't wanna hear any further word. You just wished you could close your eyes and make all that away, you wish you could just wake up and see the last couple of months were nothing but a nightmare and that you still had the same good old loving Joel Miller as the best husband in the world; instead, he simply groaned, rubbing his face and looked down, not having the courage of look at you in the eyes.
"She's not a whore, don't call her that. I-We.. we're in love. I met her at work, she's the receptionist there and we hit it off… she's gorgeous, funny and I fell for her" he swallowed not sure where the strength to be honest with you about his feelings was coming from, but it was enough to make eye contact "I've never cheated on you, Y/N, I haven't slept with her yet, I haven't even kissed her, but I think she's the one, I wanna be with her, I'm not gonna lie to you anymore"
"You don't love me anymore?" That was all you could ask, out of all the cruel and raw information he suddenly threw on you, the only thing you could register was the lack of feelings from the man who swore to love you forever one day.
"Jesus, Y/N, let's not do this now" he groaned, wanting to shift all that anger towards you, somehow blaming you for what happened so he wouldn't be consumed by his own guilt. He wasn't blind, he knew you loved him, he knew you waited at the door for him every single day, with dinner ready a pie in the oven and giving you those sad, heart eyes in hopes of receiving his affection once more. You reminded him of a puppy, as bad as it sounded, all it took you to be happy was a crumble of his love. What angered Joel was that you weren't satisfied with just crumbles, you wanted more and more from him, and he was unavailable; he simply couldn't give it to you, because his heart belonged to someone else. He hadn't planned on that happening, if it were up to him, he would've honored the vows he took on his wedding day, but Angela walked into his life without a warning and swept him off his feet. He couldn't stay with you out of pity, you deserved to be happy and so did you, but you weren't meant to be together.
"Do you love me or not, Joel?! Did you even love me?" Another grunt from his lips, you were so frustrated you didn't know how to rationalize, how to wrap your head around the fact he proposed to you, he had promised you the world and yet now he was treating you as if you had never mattered to him. His cowardice made you sick, he wasn't even man enough to look you in the eyes, you felt so angry a part of you was glad his body blocked your access to the silverware set because if you got your hands into it you knew at that moment you were willing to make a mistake. You gripped his shirt, slapping his chest and scratching him in a sloppy way, demanding answers from him. He could stop you at any moment, Joel was bigger and stronger than you, but he let you have your moment of hurting him out of pity, before calming gripping your arms and pushing you away
"I guess it's obvious I don't love you anymore, I love Angela, it's not my fault, it just happened, but I'm sure I want to be with her, you and I can't keep lying to ourselves, you can't keep lying to yourself, we're over, just as the love I felt from you, it's over…"
•••
You didn't remember much more after that. Some flashes of the following days, where the initial shock was still going strong, the waves of sadness mixed with anger, how Joel gathered some of his clothes and left the house that same night - probably to go to Angela's, how you refused to eat for the couple of days, you didn't talk to anyone, just spent your time alternating between crying yourself to sleep and actually sleeping, were just moments of blur. At some point you remember Tommy - Joel's brother checking up on you just to make sure you were alright. Tommy was the youngest of the Miller brothers, he was said to be the inconsequential one, but he would never do what his older brother had done.
Only after a few days Joel stopped by the house you once had shared, he had heard from his brother the pitiful mess you'd become because of him, and though a part of him didn't have the courage to ever face you again, another part - a more honorable one - insisted on it because he had to give you some kind of explanation. So after work, he didn't drive to Angela's like he'd been doing for the last few days, becoming his sweet routine and bringing so much joy now that he was free to love her just as much as she wanted to love him. Instead of going to his happy place, Joel drove back to the house that used to be his home for a while, a place where he'd been happy but it hadn't been enough for him. It was funny how he expected things to be drastically different, because his life had taken a dramatic turn just as yours had, and yet, things were just the same, or they appeared to be at least. He got off his truck, seeing that not a lot had changed, but this time there wasn't music coming from the house, it didn't smell like fresh cooked dinner, simply the living room with the lights on were the only thing that showed there was still someone in the house.
When he walked in, he expected to see you crying, depressed and begging him to get back, but much to his surprise, all your bags were already nearly packed and though it was visible you'd had some rough time by dark circles under your eyes and how pale your skin was, you welcomed him with a emotionless expression on your face, pointing at the couch, so he would take a seat and you could talk things through. After all the crying and suffering, you felt as if something had clicked and suddenly you went from heartbroken to numb. You knew the swirl of feelings would come and go, but taking advantage of your numbness, you put your head into place as best as you could and packed all your things, you didn't want to stay at that place surrounded by Joel memories, knowing he'd left the place you once called home and you were both so happy and also so unhappy in a short span of time. You wanted to put yourself back together, heal from him, forget he ever existed, go back to studying and focus on yourself only. But for that to happen, you wanted closure, not only wanting, you needed closure.
His low apologies combined with the rambling that came out of Joel's mouth was getting on your nerves, why couldn't he man up and actually tell you what he needed to in order to finally close that chapter in your lives.
"If you're not getting straight to the point, I will, Joel… I packed my bags, I am leaving this house, it's yours, your family managed to help you with it and I wouldn't feel comfortable living here. I'll go to college as soon as the next semester starts and I'll be waiting for the divorce papers, sign it as soon as possible, and pretend this never happened"
"Wait… what?! You want to divorce?!" Joel was quite shocked, not that he didn't want to divorce, because he did, so he could finally be officially with Angela, but he didn't think it would be that easy for you to agree, let alone be the one suggesting it.
You laughed. It was a dry, ironic laughter, because honestly, you didn't think Joel was that much of a dick, it was fascinating how he broke your heart and he still found a way to have his ego bruised by the fact you wouldn't accept being in a submission position, that you wouldn't cry and beg for him.
"What did you expect Joel?! That I would stay here, legally married to you, cooking and washing your dirty underwear while you go out of the door and keep cheating on me with that whore? Seriously? That's how low you think of me?"
"I already told you she isn't a whore and I have never cheated on you, that's why I want to divorce, us getting married was clearly a mistake and it's not my fault if I don't love you anymore.."
"So whose fault is it? Mine?! Do you really think what you did isn't cheating, Joel? Just because you hadn't fucked her while we were still together, but you had spent time with her, emotionally connected with her, fuck, just the fact you let her get closer to you even though you were married, that's cheating! You say it isn't because you don't want to feel guilty, but deep down inside you just know it is! I agree with you on one thing, though: our marriage was a stupid mistake, because of you I delayed a whole year of my life, I almost sacrificed my future because I really took your words and believed them, that we would be together, I never thought out of all the people in the world, you would be the one to hurt me! I trusted you, do you even know how many times I cried and sulked because I blamed myself for your behavior? The amount of times I felt guilty for even remotely considering the possibility of you having someone else? Because in my mind you'd always been the perfect husband and yet, you were backstabbing me day after day, with that slut!"
"Don't you fucking call her a slut! She's not a slut, she's not a whore! It's not her fault if you are a petty envious woman!"
"She is a slut Joel, I'm sure of it, because if she had any decency she wouldn't have come closer to a married man, my husband! She is probably excited about the thrill, but I'm certain that once the reality hits and she sees herself locked inside having to carry out chores everyday, take care of the house, the husband and even the kids if you two ever come to it, it's not gonna be as fun, and then you'll meet her for real. I don't wish you anything bad, but god help you if you ever have to face a disappointment as big as mine"
You dried your tears and began removing your wedding ring, it was quite pricey taking into account how complicated your financial situation was. You intended to return it to him, but the mere thought of maybe Joel taking the ring and handing it to his former mistress and soon-to-be official girlfriend, was enough to make you nauseated. You gave up removing it and left the ring right there.
"I'm leaving this place tomorrow, you can send the divorce papers over to my parents' and I hope I'll never see you again, Joel"
•••
You wished you could say that was the last time you ever saw Joel Miller in your life, but unfortunately, things weren't too easy for you. Only two months before you could finally enter college and forget about the disastrous year you had, you were working double shifts at the mall, in hopes of saving a decent amount of money for yourself. It was supposed to be another lazy evening, in which you would have to kill time until you could go home, you had just had your break and as you walked back into the store, you couldn't help but pay attention to your left hand. The wedding ring still there. It brought you shame and embarrassment, the mere fact you left it there. You often lied to people and to yourself by saying it was a way of keeping disrespectful customers away, but the truth was, you just didn't know why it was so hard to do it. It felt like a weight you couldn't get rid of, a part of your life that seemed like nothing but delusion.
You were scared of removing that ring, it was a sign that Joel wouldn't be much more than a memory to you, and even if you knew that was exactly what you needed, your heart still yearned for him. It wasn't fair, to still love the person who had hurt you the most, burying deep those feelings but also knowing they were there was nerve wracking.
You were ready to get back to work, just about to enter the store you were so used to spending your whole day when you felt paralyzed.
"What do you think of this one, darling? Do you think our baby will like it?"
It was Joel's voice.
His voice.
Darling.
Our baby.
You stopped yourself right there, too far away from their distracted eyes, taking in all the colorful and beautiful options they had before them, but also close enough so you could actually hear the conversation. Joel Miller was going to be a dad, it was a fact, you weren't having a nightmare that you were about to wake up in cold sweat at any minute, instead, he was there, with her, the woman he dumped you for, the woman who was now carrying his child. Under the shelves you'd been hiding, you could only catch a glimpse of her baby bump, and the way Joel's hand rested over it in a protective way. It was enough to make your stomach upset, your eyes burning with the tears that once more insisted on appearing. He had moved on from you, much faster than you had moved on from him; their happiness could be beautiful to anyone, but to you it was disgusting, infuriating, they had no right to come to your place of work and be so glad about life itself.
You couldn't actually see Angela's face, all you were able to watch from where you stood was Joel's hand on her womb, his right one, but the moment he rested his left one on her waist, you gasped softly. The wedding ring was gone.
Joel wasn't feeling that comfortable about being at that particular store, though it was the only decent baby clothing store at the mall, he knew you worked there or at least used to; but Angela wanted new baby stuff and he was going to be a dad, so it was his duty to take her and help her sort things out. He thought of you, not having seen you or listened to your voice in months he sort of missed you? He couldn't lie to himself, he was glad to be divorced, he was happy in a relationship with a baby on the way, but you'd been important to him too, he wished things didn't have to end the way they did, he has gotten used to living with you, seeing you, kissing you, touching you, it was natural that he missed the dynamics you two had established. A part of him sort of wanted to run into you at the store, he wanted to see how you were doing, if you were taking good care of yourself, but it was a relief to everyone you weren't there. It would be just awkward and embarrassing to be baby clothes shopping in front of you. And of course, he never wanted to hurt you more than he had already done it, but you would have probably interpreted it as provocation.
He scratched down his head while Angela picked all her favorites, Joel tried hard not to pay attention to the price tags, money was still a delicate matter for the two of them, but he had managed to get some by selling his wedding ring. Of course the pair would've been worth a lot more, but he couldn't go after you to ask for your ring, so he just negotiated his own and took the money. It wasn't the ideal situation, but in a few months they'd welcome the tiny little person that would become the most important thing in Joel's life.
You were too hurt to continue watching their display of happiness, you turned your back to the place you were hiding and you returned to the small break room. That was indeed the last time you'd seen Joel Miller; that was it until you also met someone who brought chaos but also colors into your life.
•••
"Aren't you too old to sell cookies door to door for school?" Joel asked while chewing his scrambled eggs and slurped his coffee, watching as his daughter rolled her eyes at him
"Aren't you too old not to eat your vegetables?" She snapped back at him in their usual morning routine.
Sarah was a teenager, much to Joel's sadness, as he still had serious attachments to when she was younger. He knew it was part of life, and watching her blossoming into a beautiful young girl made him proud and hopeful about the future, he knew his sweet Sarah would go far. But that also made him scared, because no matter how irrational it was, Sarah always reminded him of you; and he knew that if any guy ever dared to do to his baby girl, what he did to you, he would be really to kill him in no time. Joel Miller would like to think he had improved a lot as a human being, after all, he wasn't a young man anymore, he was a full grown adult, who had to get himself together and mature after he was abandoned by his girlfriend with a newborn baby. Life was full of irony and he was one to witness it, being left by the woman he loved and trusted a little more than a year after he was the one who walked away from someone who loved and trusted him. It was what everyone said: karma is really a bitch.
Through the years, Joel really felt an urge to call you, perhaps ask you to meet him, so you could catch up and he could finally apologize to you, but he had lost all contact with you. In fact he had no idea what you were up to through the decades, the few times your parents ran into him on the street or at the grocery store and made sure to ignore his presence and pretend they'd never met. He just couldn't approach them and ask for your phone number. Besides, what would he even tell you?
"Hey, I just wanted to tell you the woman I left you for also left me, so now I'm a lonely single dad and I realized I took you for granted and maybe if you ain't busy, we could go for a cup of coffee or something?!"
It would be just straight up stupid, not to mention he was sure you would've found someone nice, someone worthy of you, probably you'd be married by then, perhaps you'd have a kid or two, and he was sure you'd be an amazing mother, because he just knew you were an amazing wife, and he was the only one to blame for not treating you the way you deserved it.
So Joel decided it was best if he pretended nothing ever happened just like you did with him, of course destiny had other plans.
He gave Sarah a ride to school and went to work. It would be another busy day, like all of his days, in which he would work hard in order to save as much money as he could, wanting to assure his daughter the future she deserved. For Sarah, it meant another day of classes and selling cookies. She didn't like the activity, but she didn't hate it either. In fact, on that particular day she felt kind of excited as she was about to head towards the 'good' part of the neighborhood, where most houses were big and seemed expensive. Getting her backpack and her stash of goodies to sell, she left home and went on with her day.
You, on the other hand, hadn't planned on coming back to Austin so soon, as the years turned into a decade, and then a little bit more than that, you had dedicated yourself fully to your academic and professional life, focusing on yourself only, managing to bury deep your memories of Joel and never paying attention to anything remotely close to a love life.
Yes, you'd had relationships, affairs, and you'd been with a few guys: one of them was Javier, he was a handsome but very slutty cop who you had a no-string relationship with; it was good for a while, he was handsome, sexy and he fucked like no other, but he had a taste for women that unabled himself to keep it inside of his pants. You liked the freedom, but that was too much.
You also dated a guy named Dave for a brief period, he was nice, also painfully handsome, a tiny bit mysterious about his high profile government job, but he wanted a family, not just another relationship. He wanted marriage and kids, and you were just out of it in no time. The last straw was when you were traveling back home and during one stop for dinner at a small, cozy bar, a guy dressed entirely in cowboy attire came onto you. It was the undeniable proof you weren't made for relationships at all; it was like Joel Miller had casted a spell, or worse, a curse on you: it had become impossible for you to be in a relationship. Still, that wasn't your main concern, not more than why you had to move back to Austin after all those years shifting from New York to Boston, Texas and even a brief period in Spain which led you into an affair with another guy named Javier, but well, that was definitely another story. You'd simply got a phone call from your parents talking about a family emergency and once you had asked for a leave, your boss had mentioned the opportunity of you working for the Austin branch, it was a promising one, with a lot of chances of career growth and becoming the head of the office would actually come in handy, so you had no other option than say yes and pack your stuff. When you got back to Texas, despite the suffocating heat, you were also welcomed with suffocating news of your grandmother's passing, and a couple of weeks later, the news she'd left you a house in the suburbs, a real good area with many families, easy traffic and a lot of space. Having become an apartment person over the years, you first thought it was so odd to live in a house, especially by yourself. Everything seemed so big but now you didn't have to worry about having to clean it all, being able to afford someone to do so, you found your way by decorating everything exactly the way you liked it, using the spare rooms to build your home office, your closet space and a guest room, you slowly turned grandma's house into your own. However, the exterior still bothered you: there was a great space in the backyard, but the swimming pool was empty and dirty, and you could definitely have a barbecue area built so you could welcome your friends and family on weekends. As it wasn't your priority, you didn't bother so much about it, turning your attention to settling into your new office first.
•••
"Oh, hi ma'am, I'm selling cookies to help our school fund, would you be interested?" Sarah displayed a wide grin, hoping that would soften up the very annoyed looking old woman who opened the door. She noticed how the old lady looked at her up and down and just groaned a 'no' before practically slamming the door shut. Sarah sighed and shook her head, and there she was thinking the people who lived in the wealthier part of the neighborhood were more generous, but apparently they were just a bunch of snobbish cunts. Her stomach growled in hunger as she walked some more, she knew she should've eaten before going to sell the cookies, but she didn't have time at that moment. She insisted some more, knocking on another door, having no clue she was actually knocking on her father's ex-wife's door.
Sighing tiredly as you closed your laptop, you looked around and focused on what you would do next. You knew you needed to go grocery shopping soon, but you just didn't feel like driving to the store and pick up vegetables, so instead, you left your study and went to the living room, getting comfortable on the couch and groaning slightly the moment the doorbell rang. You were just so comfortable on the couch, you considered ignoring whoever was on the other side of the door, but for some reason, a slight wave of guilt made its presence and you obliged to answer whoever was disturbing you.
"Hello! My name's Sarah Miller and we're selling cookies for the school fund, would you be interested?" The smiley girl repeated her memorized speech the moment you open the door, she discreetly watched you, seeing you didn't seem so closed like the woman from the previous house, but still she wasn't sure if you were friendly, not when you stared at her with a seemingly shocked look.
Miller.
Her name was Miller.
Your heart raced and lost track of what she was saying, knowing you desperately needed to get your shit back together; Miller wasn't an uncommon name at all, quite the opposite, you had met a few people who also coincidentally had the same last name as your ex-husband, so your reaction to the girl's name was just absurd. Maybe it was because you were back in Austin, where everything happened, but then again, you reminded yourself Joel wasn't the only person named Miller in Texas.
"I-I'm sorry… I got distracted but yeah, I'll take two boxes" you smiled at the girl, she was a teenager, a very pretty one, she was pretty good at expressing herself though she looked exhausted and sweaty.
"Would you like to drink some water?" You offered her, feeling sorry for her at the realization she had probably been walking under the sunlight for quite some time. Sarah didn't think twice before nodding eagerly as she stepped inside, dragging her school bag and her cookie cart along. You let her in, finding sweet how she looked all over the place, taking in the different details from your home and enjoying that environment.
You guided her to the kitchen, getting her a tall glass of iced water, frowning at the fact she wasn't following you anymore. Instead, she stood in front of your bookshelf, looking at it up and down, trying to take in as many titles as she could. Sarah would love to have her own bookshelf like that, she loved reading ever since she was a little girl and though she used the school's library a lot, she thought the idea of having her own things was appealing, but she understood her dad couldn't simply splurge on books for her whenever she wanted to.
"Do you like books?" You asked her, walking closer and handing her the glass of water, which she killed with only a few gulps.
"Have you read all of them?!" Her surprised voice made you chuckle, she was such a sweet girl, you had no idea why you instantly liked her, but you did.
"Well, not all of them… I've just bought some of them and I haven't had the time yet, why? Did any of them interest you?"
"Well…" she said shyly and hesitantly ran her fingers through them, only pulling one out to read the description at your encouraging nod. "This one seems nice…"
"It is nice… do you want it? You can take it!" You smiled at how she blinked a little confused but nodded, so thankful for your kindness. Even if she didn't know you, Sarah already liked you. She smiled at the book and placed the glass down.
"Have you had lunch?" She shook her head shyly and you smiled "come on, I'll make you a sandwich…"
For the next hour, you and Sarah talked about several things: she told you about her school, her interests and how much she loved reading. She had assured you she would return you the book as soon as she finished it and you assured her she could borrow as many as she would like. She also briefly talked about her family, mentioning she lived with her dad on the other side of the neighborhood and you told her a little bit more about yourself.
She widened her eyes the moment she saw what time it really was, and quickly grabbed her backpack and the book you'd lent her, thank you several times as she walked towards the door "go before your mom gets worried about you" you told her without much thinking, but she shrugged "mom's not around… I live with my dad only, but it was really nice meeting you, Y/N"
•••
And for the next month, at least once a week you'd get a visit from Sarah. It had become a habit of hers to just stop by, spend a couple of hours with you, return you the book she'd borrowed the week before and get a new one. She didn't talk much about her family, it was mostly about school, friends and boy crushes and books. You were kind of suspicious she was missing a feminine figure, since she briefly told you her mom left a couple of months after she was born without looking back, you picked up the hint she wasn't open to talk about it yet, and you respected it. You were glad you unexpectedly got a new friend, a very young friend, and at first you thought it was kind of odd, until you realized she sort of resembled a daughter figure to you. After all, if you had had children with Joel, your child would be around Sarah's age.
Joel also thought it was kind of weird his daughter made an adult friend, he was well aware of how dangerous things were in the world, especially for young, innocent girls like Sarah, but when she told him her new friend was a woman, single, childless woman, who was nice, definitely had some money but also seemed quite lonely, he assumed she was one of those old cat lady kind of women; in his mind, his daughter's mysterious friend was probably a widow, who didn't have any kids and now had to approach random people for attention so she wouldn't be alone all the time. If only he knew how wrong he was, he would've asked your name, but he didn't. And he also knew he should've done it, perhaps even asked for your phone number so he could call you in case of god forbid, an emergency. But he worked so hard, not only that, he was going through a very stressful period too, so he didn't pay as much attention as he should have towards several things.
Sarah had become acquainted with several aspects of your life, from the time you spent together in your weird version of a book club. Mostly the conversations were about her and the struggles she often faced as a teenager, but sometimes you let out information, plans or complaints here and there. It wasn't different the day you were very displeased with how your backyard was looking; it had potential to be a beautiful place but it needed fixing and remodeling. Perhaps it'd been the stress at work, but for whatever reason the way that place looked was bothering you and making you cranky, if any other given day you wouldn't give a crap about it, but at that moment you did, and not only that, you mentioned it to Sarah, who tried to be useful and told you she could ask her dad to take a look at it, after all, he was in the business and could help you with it. You said yes and told her you'd be expecting the two of them on Saturday morning. Only when the girl had left happily carrying another book in hands, was that you realized that maybe, and just maybe, you should've asked her father's name.
•••
"So, you're really sure this friend of yours wants to get some stuff remodeled? And that she can afford it?" Joel glanced at Sarah before focusing again on the street as he drove to her new friend's house. He wasn't truly convinced you would actually want to hire his services, it just seemed too good to be true. He held back a smile at the way Sarah rolled her eyes at him, she'd told him hundreds of times that yes, you needed someone to repair and remodel the backyard, if anything, he could at least indicate you someone who could provide the service you were looking for.
"Fine, let's help the old lady then" he grunted at the same time his daughter turned to him "what old lady?!"
"Your friend… isn't she old? I mean, she's lonely and she lets you hang out… I thought she'd be like our neighbor an-"
"Dad, she's younger than you, I think! And she's pretty too…"
At that information Joel was more curious about you. Why was a pretty young woman all alone and willing to be friends with a girl who could roughly be her kid's age?! Were you really pretty? And did you really want your backyard remodeled or was Sarah playing matchmaker? He really hoped she wasn't, otherwise he would be very angry. Joel didn't need a new relationship, he didn't want to, having failed the two major ones he had in his life, the first one being so immature and cruel to his sweet young wife and the second one he didn't exactly where he screwed up, perhaps he had just been naive and thought the woman who wanted nothing more than just some fun was actually willing to build a life with, or maybe he wanted her to take over your place, after all, you'd set the bar pretty high for Angela when it came on being a dedicated housewife. The raw fact was that Joel was alone all those years later, his first wife was hopefully living her best years with someone who truly deserved her and Angela was God knows where but he didn't give a single fuck. She'd been dead to him from the moment she walked out of his door, denying her own baby, and all that passion he felt turned into hurt and anger. Unlike the feelings he had for you: as the years passed and he grew older, he thought of several times he could've treated you better than he did, he thought of how he would have tried not hurting you as much as he did, even if the situation the two of you were was tricky, he often fantasized about a version of your marriage where he hadn't ruined everything, where he had been honest without being cruel, without playing with your feelings, he didn't know if it was just his conscious weighing heavily on him or what, but he always thought of you with affection and love. At that time he was sure he didn't love you anymore, the passion he felt for the other woman was too intense, too much, it blinded and deafened him from everything around, everything that mattered the most to him at the time. But all those years later, Joel was sure the love for you was still there, perhaps it was just hidden away, or it got stuck under all that shit that went on, still, he didn't know who you had become, what you looked like or where you were at that moment, so it was a fairly assumption he was still in love with a memory and nothing more than that.
"Fine, so what's her name after all?" He questioned his daughter after some moment of silence but before she could answer, Joel parked his truck in front of your home.
You heard the engine and you went to the window, checking the unknown car parked in front of your place and though you couldn't actually see them inside, you knew it was Sarah and her dad. Just as you went to the door, he exited the car, his back to the entrance as you walked to them and greeted Sarah, at the sound of your voice he immediately turned around and the two of you froze in time as you watched each other there.
Joel.
You felt as if you were trapped in a weird dream, the ones you know you are just dreaming and yet you can't move or speak, just taking the role of the audience of a bizarre picture that formed before your eyes. Joel on the other hand, stared at you in complete silence, you couldn't really read him, it was impossible to know what was going on in his mind, in his heart, you could just feel his eyes roaming over your body, taking all the image of you as if he was trying to make sure you were actually what he saw in front of him. He couldn't believe it, after all those years, after everything he did to you, you were there, beautiful as you'd always been, even more so, the fancy lifestyle really suited you, he could tell by your clothes, your nails perfectly done, your hair looking gorgeous and styled nicely, you had succeeded, you had had a life he knew he could never provide you, and for that he felt kind of relieved, at least one good thing came out of your divorce: the chance of you having the success you deserved it, you weren't that housewife who needed to still work part time at the mall, you were above that now, and Joel was so damn proud of you for it.
"I-I.. yo-"
"Nice to meet you, you must be Sarah's dad" you interrupted him before he could say your name and extended your hand to him, pretending you'd just met. He was confused but you tilted your head very discreetly towards his daughter, being sure she didn't know anything that had happened between the both of you. He immediately picked up the hint and introduced himself, as if you were meeting for the first time. His hand engulfed yours like it always did, Joel Miller had always had big and strong hands, surely they got calloused through the years, but you knew damn well what they were capable of doing to you. He was older, looking more handsome than you thought he would, he aged like a fine wine, streaks of silver here and there but the majority of his hair still dark and soft like always, he was bigger too, he was stronger, broad and grew several muscles, all of it a result of years of hard-working. No matter if he had broken your heart, there was no denying he was an extremely attractive man.
He appreciated how heartfelt you were towards his daughter and gladly followed you inside once you invited him into the backyard to discuss what could be done. Sarah was right behind the two of you, but you turned to her, smiling big
"I went to the bookstore yesterday and I think you might enjoy what I bought, wanna take a look at it? They're all in the living room" you suggested to her who nodded and happily went after the books.
Once you and Joel got into the backyard, he stuttered some apologies but you immediately cut him off.
"I don't want apologies Joel, I didn't know Sarah was your daughter and I probably wouldn't have let her in if I knew who she was, but now I got attached to her and I hope our situation isn't going to prevent us from being friends" you told him honestly and watched as he nodded
"You know, her mom, Angela, she left us and I'm very sorry I left you for her.. "
"I don't wanna hear it, Joel. As I said, I don't wanna hear it about her mom or the apologies or anything at all, I mean, Sarah told me what happened and it's enough, you and I aren't together anymore, we're better off without each other, so let's just overcome this part and focus on the job I need you to do…"
"You know, I can indicate you another contractor to do it for you, so it won't be weird…"
"No, you can do it, unless you are feeling uncomfortable but other than that, I'd rather you do it, besides, Sarah would find it awkward"
And like that, Joel got into his professional mood and the two of you discussed the project you had in mind, hiring his services, he told you he could start the next Monday and he would take care of it himself, to make sure things would go according to your wishes. He noticed you didn't wear any commitment rings, nor there were pictures of you and any guy indicating a relationship and in his heart, the hope of perhaps taking you out for a coffee and getting to know you, the woman you'd become after those years, after growing mature and changing your life completely, growing in his heart. It was a fair assumption Joel had an immediate crush on you, the feelings he held within, were now blossoming more, at how beautiful, intelligent and attractive you were and suddenly, the roles were reversed: if more than ten years ago you had it bad for him, now he was the one who felt like a sick love puppy towards you.
The first week of working wasn't so bad at all, Joel would arrive at yours earlier than you expected and would start working. You didn't stay around much, letting him do his job while you were probably working in the living room or any other part of the house whenever you didn't have to go to work per se. He tried making small talk during some of his breaks and since you didn't see any harm in it, you chatted briefly, that was how he'd learned what you did for a living, where you'd been after you left Austin, and stuff like that. He told you some things about his life, mostly about how it'd been the experience of raising a child on his own, but whenever he got near bringing up your past or trying to apologize, you'd cut up any kind of interaction with him. At the end of the day you and him had nothing but a professional relationship. He understood your reasons, and yet, he hoped you would find at least a small breach in your heart to let him in, he really hoped he could show you he was a better man now, that he could be suitable for you, and yet, you kept yourself all the way distant and protecting yourself from him.
So it became a very common scene to always escape from Joel, moving seats or rooms whenever he was around, you didn't know how else to act, what he expected from you. It wasn't like you were old buddies catching up after years in a long-distance relationship. And he always got displeased.
It was about the third week of working at your house, he asked if he could use your kitchen to have lunch, heating up the food he'd eat, you smiled at yourself as you were taken back by the memories of times where you would prepare him lunches and send it in his lunchbox, how you would worry about him being hungry so you would always make sure there was something fresh out of the oven for him to nibble on as soon as he got home from work and chuckled softly, shaking your head and excusing yourself. He'd thought you would at least have lunch next to him, but you weren't willing to do that at all, and that both pained and pissed him off.
"Would it kill you to spend time with me? Look at me? Or act like a human being instead of being all stiff like a robot whenever I'm around?" He asked, breaking the silence, you could see he was frustrated and that puzzled you to no end.
"What are you talking about, Joel?!"
"You don't talk to me, Y/N, I try making small talk, you don't answer me, you don't even look at me, suddenly I'm not worth your time? You're too good to even acknowledge I am next to you?"
"Do you really want to talk about not being worth someone's time? Really Joel? I thought you had grown up during all these years but I can see you are just the same shallow fuckboy who gets pissed off when you see I'm not crawling towards you…"
"Stop being unfair to me! All I'm trying to do is to show you I've changed, I am a better man, a better person, I'm not that same immature Joel you met so many years ago, I'm trying to make you see I'm a new man…" he went from angry to desperate, you took a step closer and looked into his eyes, not breaking the eye contact for one second.
"I know Joel, I know you've changed… you've grown into this hardworking man, this amazing father, I can see it, I hear it every time Sarah comes over, but you don't have to try too hard, it's not gonna change anything… You and I are two different people, we have nothing to do with each other anymore"
"You can't say that, I want you to see we could try it again, I still love you, Y/N!"
"Joel, we'll never try it again, the marks of your betrayal still linger here, all over me, forgetting you was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I don't want to ever feel it again. You don't love me, Joel. You love the idea of me, of picking up the shattered parts of your broken life and making it right, you love the thought of building up a family, of giving your daughter the mom she deserves, and it's all because it didn't work out with that woman. We both know it… if she hadn't left you wouldn't even be thinking of me" you looked down, trying to hold back a tear that insisted on falling, but failing at that matter. "I wasn't good enough to be by your side, to build a family with you, you can't just expect me to throw myself into your arms as if nothing had happened, what exactly do you think would happen between us in the first place? I'd be waiting for you every single night with dinner ready? Those days were over, Joel…" you sniffed and he sighed, placing his hand on his waist.
"Give me a chance, go on a date with me, please… before you say no, just think about it, of what we could have together… please! You don't have to answer me now, think about it and when I finish the job, you can tell me your answer"
•••
The following weeks were as normal as they could be; you hadn't told Joel yes but you hadn't told him no either and even if it pained you to admit it, you sometimes thought of his proposition. Sarah was still coming over, your bond was now stronger, you really liked each other and despite everything that happened, you were thankful Joel wasn't against your friendship. You two had agreed on not telling her anything about your shared past at the moment, but in case you two decided she needed to know it for whatever reason, Joel would be the one to tell her, it would only make sense. You also thought about his words and you decided to be nicer to him, actually stopping to talk to him, or having lunch next to him instead of rushing away as fast as you could and in retribution, he stopped with the feelings talk. The deadline was coming to an end, as your backyard remodeling was getting prettier and prettier each passing day. It was odd and awkward and you wanted to get things over with as soon as possible at the same time a strange fascination with watching Joel caught you. It was hard to explain, but when the final day came, when Joel and his assistant showed you the word ready and done, and after you paid them the large wage you owed them for the services, your ex-husband asked to talk to you. He had hope in his eyes, he was wearing his flannel, and he'd combed his hair a little, which made him look painfully handsome, your heart clenched. Even before he could say anything, you already had your answer. He stood in front of you, baffled at the fact you threw your arms around his body, pulling him for a hug. His hands locked around your waist, strong grip not wanting to let go, while you sank into his warmth. He was your old Joel, the one you'd loved so deeply and broke your heart, but nonetheless your Joel.
Taking your hand to his face, you stroked it gently, feeling his beard scratching your palm a little and you smiled "I forgive you, Joel… I don't know if you wanted my forgiveness or not, but I forgive you anyway, I don't resent you anymore, what's gone, it's gone and now we can only focus on our future. I know that if I tried looking for a space in my heart, I would find it a part that still keeps all the love I felt for you, but we've changed, for the best and that teaches us we should never make the same mistakes from the past, so you do understand why we can't go on this date, right? We can't be together, I'm sorry Joel, but you know it's true… I just need one last thing from you…"
You told him, leaning towards him and pecking his lips. After all that time, it still felt like your favorite place in the world, your heart raced the moment he groaned into your mouth and his hands tightened his dominating grip on you. It was quite pathetic how he still had the same effect over you and if he hadn't hurt you as much as he did and condemned you two to a relationship based on lack of trust, perhaps you could even consider trying again. Forgiving and forgetting were different things, whereas you didn't resent him anymore, you hadn't forgotten about how broken he left your heart. You would never be able to trust him again, always worrying he had found someone better like he did once, you couldn't do that to yourself, you loved yourself too much to go back to Joel Miller. That last kiss you cherished, you would keep it in your memories, but it wouldn't go further than that. You and Joel were done for years and nothing would convince you otherwise.
____
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it 😭💔
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badasmuse · 5 months
Text
“Homewrecker”
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Bada Lee x Reader
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, language, cheater!bada, bottom!bada, bada is married to h*wl, bada has a daughter, top!reader, lonely bada, she also cries, appearance from itzy’s yuna
Summary: bada is lonely, you fix that.
Part 2 Here
you absolutely loved children. ever since you were fifteen when you started babysitting for your neighbor that’s when you knew. you actually wanted to start your own daycare but you wanted a degree so you decided to take a few online classes in early childhood education. but, going to college meant you need money for books and such so you never stopped babysitting. but your usual child’s father came back into her life making you jobless once again, so when you received a text from an unknown number stating she got your number from her friend you jumped with joy. and that’s how you started working for bada lee and her husband.
on your first day, you pull up to the extremely big house, you’re nervous. you keep thinking, what if i lose this kid in this big ass house.
there’s a tall woman and a slightly shorter male standing in the doorway holding a little girl. she looks about seven. you step out of the uber and approach the little family. “hi i’m y/n. i’m looking for ms. lee?”
“that’s me.” she steps out shaking your hand. “you can call me bada. this is my husband howl, not his real name but as a dancer it’s just what he goes by, and our daughter chaeyoung. come in.”
you follow the woman in and dude when i tell you this house is huge. you could probably fit three semi trailers stacked on top of each other in here. with the wheels still on and everything. you’re too busy admiring the house to hear what bada is saying.
“got that y/n?” is all you hear.
“huh? oh i’m… im sorry i was admiring your house i didn’t hear a thing. could you… repeat that?” you say shyly.
“oh no problem. this is a list of people you can call if you can’t get in touch with either of us. always try lusher first she’s my best friend she’ll always be able to get ahold of me. i’ll be out at the studio a lot this month because i’m choreographing a few comebacks and howl is getting ready to go to japan to teach some classes. i will be back around nine tonight. here’s chae’s bedtime routine. she’ll try to stay up past eight thirty, if she fights let her because she’ll fall asleep in the next five minutes. you can just lay a blanket over her on the couch and i’ll carry her to the room when i come back. is that too much at one time?” bada asks after literally vomiting a shit ton of information.
“no no i think i got it all. also, if you’re gonna be dancing, i don’t mind carrying her to her room. you’ll be tired and probably want to shower, i can handle it.” you say smiling.
“if you can i’d appreciate it. oh we have to go. chae you be good for y/n okay? i mean it.” bada says crouching in front of the girl who just nods in response before hugging her mother tight and hugging her father’s leg.
soon, it’s just you and her. boy did she give you a run for your money. you did lose her in the house while playing hide n seek. she made you play dress up with her. she took your phone and hid it, spilled apple juice everywhere, and even went into her parent’s room and took one of her mom’s lipsticks.
by now it’s eight thirty and she surprisingly went to bed without an issue, which you were grateful for because now you have to clean the mess in the kitchen and living room.
“hi i’m home.. y/n?” you hear bada say.
“kitchen!” you respond.
“what.. happened?”
“oh she spilled apple juice. this- here. she took this from your room. um, do you mind calling my phone?” you mumble.
bada sighs and goes into a room before coming out with your phone in hand. “i’m sorry she did this to the last babysitter, and the one before. if you don’t want to continue just let me know okay?” she says helping you clean the apple juice.
you look up at her and see the sweat dripping down her face, the tired look in her eyes. she’s obviously struggling. “what time should i be here tomorrow?”
her eyes light up and she smiles brightly. “um, same time okay? it’ll just be me and her, my husband will be gone early.”
“i’ll be here. go shower. i’ll finish up and make my way out of here.” you pick up the used paper towel, throwing it in the garbage.
thirty minutes later she emerges from the bathroom dressed in a new pair of sweats and a tank with her wet hair flowing down her back.
“i’ll get your uber home. can you put your address in here?”
*
now it’s been four months and man, the feelings you feel towards this woman are crazy.
“she’s just so.. fine, yuna.” you say to your best friend. “when she comes home from the studio and she’s dripping with sweat. you know how hard it is to not jump on her?”
yuna laughs, “isn’t she married?”
“yes but… come on. her husband is never really there. she’s always tired and probably sexually frustrated. i could fix that for her for real.” you say taking the drink from her.
“that’s mine.” she sighs, “well are you gonna go for it?”
“i don’t know, should i? what if i get fired?” you say.
“then you get fired. come on i’ll drop you off. it’s almost time.”
once you arrive at the house, you knock and wait, watching yuna pull off. bada opens the door and looks at you surprised. “y/n? what are you doing here?”
you blink, “it’s.. saturday?”
“oh! oh i’m so sorry. first come in.” she steps to the side, “i’m sorry, chaeyoung is with her grandmother for today. i thought i told you. probably forgot i was doing so much this morning. i feel so bad you probably ubered here, let me pay you for that and i’ll get you one back.”
“my friend dropped me off. i can ask her to come get me.” you say sending a quick text to yuna.
“well have you eaten? let me get you something.” she says.
“i’m okay i’m not hungry.” at least, not for food.
“well.. here’s a water bottle. i’m so sorry.”
“it’s okay bada. my schedule is open.” you look at the reply from yuna and sigh. “actually could you get the uber? my friend is busy, she won’t be able to come get me for at least an hour or so.. unless you don’t mind me waiting?”
“i don’t mind. i actually wanted to talk to you about chaeyoung.” she says sitting next to you.
“what is it?”
“i’m not too sure what you’re doing but.. she used to be terrible in school, behavior wise, and ever since you came along it’s changed. what are you doing with her? what can i do to make sure she doesn’t act that way once you get your degree and stop working for me?” bada sighs, leaning back on the couch.
“bada,” you turn your body to face her, “the issue with chae is you don’t give her enough attention. i know both you and howl work a lot. it happens. but she tells me all the time how she wishes at least you were here more often. she’s lonely. it’s only her and you stick her with a bunch of strangers. she told me she feels happy when i’m here because even tho i’m leaving, i still make her happy because i’m giving her the attention she craves.”
bada wipes a tear from her cheek, “i try. it’s just hard. i want to be here. then howl took that stupid job traveling to different countries like he doesn’t have a wife and child at home. i feel like i’ve been snapping at her which is why i sent her with her grandmother. i wanted to.. be with my husband and he’s not even here he went to america. i wanted to talk to him about this.”
you pull bada in for a hug and rub her back as she cries into your shoulder. “you’re doing the best you can, bada. you can’t be too hard on yourself. howl should’ve thought about that before he left. he needs to understand you need help.” you say softly.
bada pulls back and looks at you, “you really think i’m doing my best?”
“i do.”
there’s a tension filled silence as you look at each other. you don’t know what fueled you but you lean in and kiss her on her lips before pulling back quickly. “oh shit i’m sorry you’re married-“
she cuts you off with another kiss gripping your shirt. this one is a lot more desperate. “please…” she mumbles against your lips. “i need this please.. please don’t go.” she whines.
“your room.” you say and she stands up pulling you into the bedroom she shared with howl.
she pushes you on the bed and climbs on top of you finding your lips again as your hands trail under her shirt. you pull it off her and she whines.
“relax baby, i’ll make you feel good, just be patient.” you turn her on her back kissing her neck and down to her chest. lifting up her bra you attach to her nipple, sucking gently and she moans. you pinch the other one with your fingers and her hips buck up against you, looking for friction.
“keep your hips down.” you whisper, kissing down her stomach. you leave marks on her hip bones and she moans your name.
“y/n please… please i want you so bad!” she writhes on the bed.
you pull her shorts off and she’s not wearing anything under them. “made this easy for me huh? oh you’re so wet for me bada.” you run a finger over her clit and her leg jerks. you put her leg on your shoulder and make eye contact with her. “can i?”
“please y/n please do- OH!” she moans out when your tongue makes contact with her clit. her hands clutch the sheets as you suck on her clit, sticking two fingers in her.
her breath hitches and she lets out loud moans, “oh my god s-so good! please more!”
you insert another finger curling them up into her spot. she lets out a squeal. “why are you so good at this?” she moans, hands going to your hair as she fucks herself onto your fingers. “i’m cumming!”
you speed up your fingers, flicking your tongue skillfully and she cums with a scream, your name falling off her lips.
you pull your hand out giving her a minute to breathe. “you okay?” you run her lower stomach gently.
“i need… more. please? i have.. have toys in my sock drawer.” she pants.
you walk over to where she points and find a different array of toys. “oh you’re kinky.”
“please use whatever you want. make me your slut. please.” she whines.
you bite your lip, grabbing the dildo, a vibrator, and some handcuffs. “you mind?”
“oh please!” she moves her hands to the headboard, letting you cuff her to it. “i-i can eat you out while you fuck me. you can sit on my face.”
you shiver at the thought before stripping and doing what she wants. her tongue skillfully explores you and you question how she let a man trap her with a tongue like that? you lean forward and put the dildo in her, immediately thrusting it in and out of her while putting the vibrator on her swollen clit. she moans into you and pulls at the cuffs. you’re worried she might be uncomfortable so you lift up but she whines loudly. “i’m not finished!”
you sit back down, thrusting the toy faster and turning up the speed on the vibrator. you let out a moan trying not to grind on her face. you move when she starts to mumble something.
“what did you say baby?”
“use me. use me to get yourself off. make me your personal tuck toy.” she moans out.
you moan as you move back onto her face doing as she asks all while you fuck into her tight count with the dildo. you’re close and you know she’s close from the way her moans get higher. she latches onto your clit sucking roughly as you pound the dildo into her gspot and you’re both cumming with loud moans. you remove the toys and she squirts all over her bed. you get off her and rub her clit, helping her ride out her high.
“okay! okay i’m done i can't…i’m done please!” she moans pulling the cuffs.
“give me one more. let me make sure you’re 100% satisfied. you might not get it this good for a while.” you whisper.
she whimpers and cums one last time, her juices flow out of her and you caress her thigh gently.
“so good for me bada. did such a good job.” you uncuff her and she pulls you in for a kiss. you can taste yourself on her tongue.
“thank you.” she whispers. “i needed that. god i needed that.. tell your friend nevermind. stay with me.”
“what about your husband? and chae?” you ask.
“he’s gone for a week, chae will be back tomorrow night. after i take a nap i want to go again.” she groans, turning on her side.
grabbing your phone, you tell yuna to just bring your backpack that has your strap instead and you lay down next to bada. she immediately moves her head onto your chest and sighs, falling asleep.
that was a lot easier than you thought it would be.
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thehusbandoden · 9 months
Text
You Flinch During an Argument -Todoroki Shoto
Sooo I decided to change this into drabbles instead of headcannons and a drabble bc I'm a lot more comfortable writing in this format, sorry if this bothers anyone <33
Oh and this is a lot more fluffy bc I'm so soft for Sho <3
I'll make Bakugou's a lot more angsty tomorrow >:))
Angst to fluff/comfort | 1,057 words
Warnings!: Mention of arguing, flinching, fear of hurting/scaring your s/o, mention of abuse (Shoto's childhood), and spending money in copious amounts (is that a warning??). Pls let me know if I miss any <33
Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi
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The argument was getting nowhere, you were exhausted, angry, and hurt. You also bet that Sho felt the same.
Sighing, you stand up and walk towards where Shoto was pacing around.
"Listen Sho, let's just go to bed, we can talk about this in the morning."
"Fine then, you go to be-" Shoto froze as he saw you flinch away from him, he wasn't going to.. hurt you. He would never hurt you.
"Did.. did you think I was going to hurt you?" Shoto asked, inwardly panicking as he rushed to your side, hands hovering over your arms, shoulders, and hands, too scared of hurting or scaring you to touch you.
"No baby no. It was some kinda reaction from my body, probably because the tension was high and we're heroes." You coo, grabbing Shoto's hands comfortingly.
"A-are you sure?" Shoto asked, body shaking as he moved his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort you as best as he could.
"Positive my dear, lets just get to bed, yeah? We can talk about our.. disagreement in the morning." You smile, causing Shoto to nod as he followed you to your shared bedroom, hovering behind you as you go through your night time routine.
"Baby.. I promise I'm not scared of you." You whisper, turning around to hug Shoto as he hovered over your shoulder, heart broken.
"I- I know.. it just reminded me of mom.. and him.."
"Oh baby, no. That is completely different."
Hugging Shoto tighter, your heart partially broke as Shoto clung to you, burying his face in your neck, seeking any kind of comfort he could.
"T-this was a one time freak accident.. right?" Shoto asked, a few tears staining your shoulder as he let you comfort him, needing some kind of stability for him to be sane.
"Yes, yes this will only happen this one time. I was not scared of you, my body moved on its own, I hold zero fear towards you, my love."
"Promise?"
"I promise. Now, let's get to bed and cuddle, yeah?"
Shoto simply nodded, shuffling his feet in a way where he could move yet stay attached to you, and he completely climbed on top of you, burying his face into your chest as you played with his hair, kissing his forehead sweetly.
~~~
The next morning he was attached to you until you had to go to work, and even then he was very reluctant to let you go, asking for kiss after kiss as you attempted to leave.
You came home to a completely cleaned house, your favorite meal, and your favorite at home activity set up.
And the next day, after he came home from work he brought you flowers, your favorite treat, take out, a movie, and a book that's been rotting in your 'tbr' list on Amazon.
It stayed that way for at least a week and a half, Shoto doing everything he could to show you how much he truly loved you.
~~~
"Baby I'm home." Shoto calls, shutting the door with his foot as he moved to set todays findings on your kitchen island.
"Hey, you're home early!" You smile, quickly making your way to kiss Sho's lips before hugging him, smiling at the comforting warmth and smell.
"Yeah, I missed you too much and there wasn't much going on. If there's any thing they need my help with they'll simply call me in."
Pecking his chest as acknowledgment, you turn to the island, blushing in embarrassment at the multiple bags on the smooth surface.
"Sho, how many times do I need to tell you that you don't need to keep buying me things?" You sigh, smiling as the hero pecked the back of your ear to help you cool off.
"And how many times do I need to tell you that I know I don't 'need' to, but I can, and want to spoil my queen."
"Sho you're too good for this world." You huff, blushing at Shoto's bold honesty.
"I belive that is you, my love."
"Okay okay- what did you get this time?" You sigh, peering at the bags curiously.
"You have to wait for this one," Sho mused, picking out a small black bag from the bunch, maneuvering it so you wouldn't see the brand name.
"Ah c'mon Sh-"
"and this one is for dinner-" Sho continued, shushing you with a quick peck to the lips, setting the grocery bag aside.
" and the rest is for you to enjoy at your leisure." Shoto smiled, causing you to blush.
Smiling, you look through the remaining four bags, smile widening at the sentimental gifts Shoto had gotten you.
One bag was full of books and movies you were dying to read/watch, and another one was full of bags of sweets you enjoyed from the gas station near your house -which means he most likely grabbed them on a whim, barely putting a thought into spoiling you as he remembered all of your favorites and which one you liked the most.
The other two were full of some of your favorite hobbies, and things you were meaning to get. Needed a new pair of earphones for long hours of patrol? Sho got the new model, making sure to get your favorite color. Oh- did you want a pair of fuzzy socks for the upcoming winter? Shoto got you just that, spending extra money to make them just right for you. The list went on and on, causing you to both feel giddy and annoyed.
"Shoto, you can't just spoil me. You need to be spoiled too, and all of your money is going into this isn't it?" Giving Sho a look to stop him from interrupting, you continued, "but, I really do appreciate this. You're too sweet for this world, Sho."
Shoto just smiled at you, eyes holding a certain spark that made you giddy.
And that alone stopped you from telling him to stop.
Because he truly enjoyed spoiling you, and you won't be that one to dampen that light, you'll be the one to continue to let it grow.
Plus you started spoiling him too- and now it's basically part of your routine
Series' masterlist | Shoto's masterlist | Main masterlist | Navigation
Tips <3
~~
Reblogs help spread and support my work, and therefore help me out a ton, but any support is appreciated <33
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.
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cas-writes-stuff-ig · 2 months
Text
Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)
f!/nb! reader x regina george
CONTENT:
Word Count: 3094
Reader is working on performing for the Winter Talent Show
singing for Regina
secret relationship
Jealous Regina
Jealous Reader
smut (shower sex) (drunk sex) (jealousy)
kinda will get angsty after this
(those band geeks/people who play music in the background in the new Mean Girls movie? yeah that's who the reader is friends with)
Part 1 of Cheering Her Up
Part 3 of Cheering Her Up
a/n:
this was supposed to be a one-shot but idk I had an idea because i get inspired by songs and then make up scenarios in my head. its gonna get a little sadder soon so sorry DW they'll end up together <3
Soona is a person who was apologized to, who plays music in the background for the songs (plays guitar and drums)
("Soona, I'm sorry I said you were dragging during 'Revenge Party' There was just like, so much pressure on us to move the story forward through the montage. Like you know how it is" (1:22:24 in the movie))
I made Soona date the girl in the beanie (plays bass and drums)
I heavily based this off the 2024 version, but I switched around some of the events back to 2004
(2004: October Party/Aaron and Regina get back together -> Talent Show -> Aaron and Regina break up -> "You can't sit with us" -> Burn Book scene)
(2024: October Party/Aaron and Regina get back together -> Aaron and Regina break up -> Talent Show -> "You can't sit with us" -> Burn Book scene)
Regina finished her brownie and you scarfed yours down unceremoniously. You covered your mouth and spoke while you chewed “Shit sorry, I’ve been smelling brownies for an hour and I was starving” she just rolled her eyes at you. “Want another?”
Regina paused a pained expression painted her face for a moment, then she put her wall back up “I’m fine thanks”
You decided to let it go and then the front door opened, “Regina?” her mom walked in “You having a party in here?” you grabbed your phone and turned down the music.
Regina's little sister Kylie ran inside after her mom and waved at you excitedly. Kylie liked it when you were around because you'd scold Regina if she was being mean to her. Kylie just ran up to her room to change.
“Hey mom” Regina greeted but she was dismissive as most kids are with their parents
“Hi Mrs. George,” her mom liked you, but she was naive to the true nature of your relationship with her daughter. You grinned “I made brownies, sorry it’s a mess. I’ll clean it up”
“Oh! That’s so nice of you. Thank you, hun, don’t worry about the dishes, darling” She put her bag down walked toward the sink, and started washing them. “I’ve got it, I know you guys have homework. Regina be nice yeah?”
Her mom said that every time you were over because the first time you were at her house, you worked with Regina at the kitchen table, and she heard her daughter call you “…a fucking nerd”
“Yeah, whatever Mom,” she stood up and started walking toward the stairs. You thanked her mom, rushed to take off the apron, hung it up, and dashed up the stairs. She walked into her room, and you soon followed inside and shut the door.
She just slipped back into her bed and went on her phone. You sat on the bed and kicked off your shoes, and were worried “Hey ‘Gina?”
“Mm?” She looked up at you briefly, and then back down at her phone.
You paused and didn’t say anything for a moment “…Gina, do you wanna talk about what happened earlier?” That same pained expression panned over her face. You just touched her knee and rubbed soothing circles into it. "It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it."
She sighed, "It's just me, don't worry about it, kay?" you gave her a look.
She then pulled you to lay next to her and lifted your arm to lay on your shoulder, head resting at the crook of your neck. "I won't push it" you added after she got comfortable.
She pulled out her phone and rested it on your stomach scrolling through her apps. You took your own phone out and checked your grades on there. Regina opened her camera roll, the most recent item was a short video of you, you immediately recognized your own voice and she had this shit-eating grin on her face.
It was you just fifteen minutes ago, you watched yourself wearing the rather girly apron, singing, and pulling brownies out of the oven. "Regina! Oh my God, delete that, please. That's actually so embarrassing" you face palmed.
She laughed and said "Absolutely not," and sat up "Don't worry, it's for my eyes only" She told the truth because she couldn't show the video to anyone else or else they'd ask what you're doing in her house baking brownies for.
"You're so mean to me," you said with no real bite in your voice. "Your mom said to be nice to me Regina" You didn't ask her again to delete it, because once she made a decision she usually stuck by it, she always got her way with you.
She scoffed and said "I am being nice" and leaned back toward you, kissing your collarbone. It made you stop breathing for a moment, your body got stiff as she kept kissing your neck.
"God Regina, I have homework" you mustered out, she left a dark red hickey that peaked out just a little bit from your shirt, then she licked your neck "Shit" she was getting you worked up.
"It's fucking Friday tomorrow loser, chill out, it can wait an hour" She whispered seductively in your ear. Regina was right though so you submitted to her whims
——————————————————————————————
"Duck, stay the night" She leaned against the bed sheets.
"Okay princess," you rolled your eyes "Anything for you," you said sarcastically, but you meant it. Regina pointed towards her closet and you found some of her more comfortable loose shirts to wear to bed. "Can I grab my guitar to practice for maybe thirty minutes though? Me and my group are practicing some songs for the Winter Talent show"
"Are you singing?" Regina asked smiling.
"If you make fun of me, I'll sleep in my fucking car, Regina" You made an empty threat. "I'm playing guitar, and doing background vocals. I'm the main singer for the last song only. I just wanna practice with the music in the back"
Your band for the Talent Show consisted of people from the Band Geeks (though you weren't part of the school band yourself). The four of you were versatile in your music skills, also being able to sing lead and backup interchangeably.
You only practiced one of your songs and opted to play ones you knew well for Regina. "I thought it was only one song?" Regina asked you.
"Thought I'd show off a little bit" you looked down at the fret board, she watched your fingers move.
"You serenading me Duck?"
——————————————————————————————
You cozied into her arms too easily, over the summer, spending nights with her had conditioned you to never get up before 10AM. So you couldn't rely on your body clock to wake you up.
You set an alarm for 7AM so she could do her makeup and choose an outfit. You had left a small amount of clothes in her wardrobe that was neatly hidden away, for the nights you slept over.
In the morning you brushed her hair back and pressed a kiss to her forehead "Gina babe, you gotta get up" I brought you the brownies I made.
She sat up and smiled at you "Thanks Ducky" Shit, that smile could send you to the stars.
"Of course Gina"
——————————————————————————————
That day, at the cafeteria. You slipped off your backpack and sat down across the table from Janis, and Damian. It was the third week of your Junior year.
You never stayed for the entire duration of lunch, just to eat and run to a study room where you could get some actual silence or hang out with the Soona and band you were friends with. And you never knew that Janis and Damian were using Cady to take Regina down.
Damian gasped dramatically, it surprised you. "What's that on your neck!?" Shit, your backpack moved your shirt down revealing part of the hickey Regina gave you. Some heads turned toward your table.
Janis looked "Who you hook up with?" They both leaned in.
You were bright red "No one" You and Regina actually hid your secret pretty well, which you both greatly appreciated. But you hung out with a few people, which is why they pushed harder for an answer.
Damian leaned forward "Who?"
"No one, leave it," You said, it came out a little mean since you were stressed. "Sorry" you decided to tell part of the truth and you softened up "They're not out yet, I can't say" they yielded and switched gears.
"Is that why you've been all glow-y this semester? Your face has gay painted all fucking over it." Damian gestured with his hands pointing at you.
"Please stop talking" You pressed your temples
"Fine" They changed the topic.
"Oh Cady told us of a party happening tonight," Janis said, but you didn't really pay attention
You said "Okay" and then just looked down at your phone and texted Regina. Her contact on your phone was discreet enough, it was just her initials backward. The only thing that hinted that it could be Regina was the picture of a Jeep from the internet.
You knew your contact name, but of course, you had a rubber ducky as a profile picture on her phone.
Duck: "G, they saw the mark you left yesterday"
GR: "so what? you didn't say anything right?"
Duck: "no of course not"
GR: "then we're fine"
You could see Regina looking down at her phone too where she sat with the Plastics and Cady.
You kept observing Regina, Gretchen was next to her and leaned over. "Who's 'Duck'? New guy?"
"Jesus Gretchen, haven't you heard of privacy?" Regina scolded her.
——————————————————————————————
After school, you drove home and Facetimed Regina "Party tonight right?" you asked.
"Mmhm, you gonna go?" Regina was also rummaging through her clothes
"Yeah," you said and put on just a black T-shirt, jeans, and a brown jacket. "How do I look?" You propped your phone up to show her.
"Lame, but fine" Regina responded
"That was mean Gina" It stung a little but you were fine. "Oh remind me to send you the set list we're practicing," You asked her.
"Shit, gotta go Duck. Karen, Gretchen, and Cady are coming to my house to get ready" She looked at the messages on her phone "I'll see you later" she quickly hung up. You changed your shirt to a loose tank top, which revealed your toned arms and the hickey, you wanted to exact a little revenge on Regina and make her a little jealous.
——————————————————————————————
Soona and the gang brought you to the party. You've been at this guy's house party three times over the summer. You grabbed a red solo cup and took it to the dance floor, and your friends joined you.
You normally didn't get this drunk unless you were with only a few people, because you lost your inhibitions a little too much. The only thing on your mind was Regina. Regina. Regina. Regina.
Your head buzzed and you looked for the familiar blonde, she was in the middle of the dance floor grinding up against some jock, which happened to be Shane Oman.
You got jealous, and when you were drunk you didn't think thoroughly. Regina didn't fuck anyone else besides you for a while, you understood 'friends with benefits' implied you were not obligated to monogamy.
You had decided to mess with Regina a little more, you joined a girl who was known for queer baiting, you didn't kiss her, but you definitely got touchy, she was lifting your shirt a little. You felt Regina staring daggers at you.
After a while, you excused yourself to the upstairs bathroom where there were far fewer people here. You wondered if that was enough to get a rise out of Regina. Then a knock at the door. "Occupied" you yelled out.
"Let me in, bitch" It was Regina's voice.
'Oh shit' You thought. You wanted to anger her enough that she texted you to come over to her house, but she broke your unspoken rule to not approach each other at parties or school. You opened the door "Shit Regina. No one saw you come in here ri-"
She slammed the door shut and shoved you against the wall, her left hand snaked around your neck, not enough to restrict air, but enough to show you how mad she was. "You're stupid," she said angrily. You looked up at her, your head still buzzed.
"Gina I-" You tried speak, but her hand squeezed a little tighter for a moment, before loosening her grip to grab your jaw.
"I'm gonna leave this party, and you're gonna meet me down this fucking block. We're going home" Regina's voice was full of venom. "Do you understand?" you could smell the alcohol on her breath, and the smell of her perfume.
You let out a faint "Yes"
——————————————————————————————
She called an Uber and you stood behind her like a kicked puppy. You were in deep shit. It was already 2AM when you left the party so everyone in Regina's house was asleep.
When you got to her house she practically dragged you up the stairs and pushed you onto the bed roughly "The fuck you think you were doing at that party?" She's never been so angry at you before.
"Regina, I'm sorry I-" you stuttered, she was mad at you and it scared you. But the alcohol in your blood and the way she towered over you, making you feel helpless, made your core ache with need.
She stripped off her shirt and straddled your hips, Regina took your arms and held them above your head. "You're a fucking tease" You were both still incredibly drunk.
"Regina, I'm sorry let me make it up to you" You pleaded with her.
She wore a mean smile "And how do you plan on doing that baby" You tried to wriggle yourself out of her grip, but she used her entire body to keep you down.
The more you tried to escape, the more pathetic you looked. Face flushed, pinned under the prettiest girl you've ever seen. "Shit, I'll do whatever you ask Gina, just say the word"
"Yeah baby?" she smiled "Whatever I ask?"
"Yes," you said breathily, though it was hot, you were scared of losing her favor. You wanted to be in her life as much as possible, you were obsessed. Anything to please her.
"Strip, get in the shower" She let go of your arms, climbed off you, and rid herself of the rest of her clothes. She turned her back towards you and walked toward the bathroom, then without turning, she crooked her finger, telling you to come follow her.
She didn't need to turn around to know you were watching her every movement. She turned the shower on and walked inside "Kneel" You did, she looked at your mouth and then down between her legs. Water beat down your back. "You know what to do baby" You nodded and started to gently kiss her clit, "Don't tease, just get on with it" Your slow kisses to her pussy turned into you sucking on it hard.
You looked up at her, and you made eye contact. She moaned then said "Keep that up baby, and I might forgive you" she gripped the back of your hair and it made you whine into her pussy. "Fuck- use your fingers too babe" Coating your fingers in her slick before slipping two fingers inside of her.
"God you feel so good," she said as you started rhythmically curling your fingers inside her cunt, you took your free hand and held her up. "Oh fuck" she arched her back and pushed her hips hard into your face. You kept your pace while she rode out her orgasm. She pulled your head away, and when she let go you just kissed her thighs.
"You satisfied, Gina?" you still were on your knees she brought you up and kissed you
"No, nerd. I wanna break you" Regina knelt now and saw her there you ached for her to just get on with it. Eating her out pulled obscene sounds out of her and made you wet, and she swiped a finger through your slit. "You're so wet," Then she slid two fingers inside. "If I let you finish, you gonna promise to be good for me, baby?"
Her thumb started to circle your clit "Sh-shit, yes Gina"
"Look at me" you looked down and she pressed your clit hard.
"Fuck Regina, I'll be good" you swore.
"Promise me?"
"Promise" You gasped out as she increased her pace.
Heat gathered in your stomach and your skin felt hot. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, moaning Regina's name like a prayer. "Gina- fuck, I-"
"Words baby" Regina cooed.
You panted trying to speak, you finally gasped out "Gina, can I finish, please? please?"
She smirked "Only because you're so cute when you beg" She sped up "Come for me, come for your owner baby"
You covered your mouth in fear of waking up everyone in the house. Your body felt like a firework, and Regina knew how to play you like a violin.
She stood and kissed you, and her anger had dissolved. Just as you regained your breath, there she was to steal it away from you again.
You knew Regina was a bitch, but you couldn't help but melt into her touch when she washed your hair or kissed your shoulder. Her attention was intoxicating.
——————————————————————————————
You lay in bed with Regina and brushed her hair behind her ear. "Gina, about you kissing Shane tonight." you paused to really think about your words. "I know we aren't together like that, but you know me, if you start dating someone else, whatever we have has to stop"
She hesitated for a second "Of course Duck" she paused again "I only did it to keep up my reputation" Regina said. It was partially true if you wanted to keep up the secret. Regina had to play her part, she had to conform, it was comphet but you didn't bring up your thoughts to her.
"Gina, I'm sorry I was acting like that at the party" You apologized for making her jealous. You knew why you were jealous, but not why she was. Did she like you? Did she just want to fuck you? You never would expect anything beyond sex and friendship from her even if it broke you inside.
But she read you easily "Hey babe, did you get jealous?" she was smug about it, and you crossed your arms. "You did huh?" She provoked you but she held your face so gently and rubbed your cheek with her thumb, that you felt your attraction to her fall far deeper than you could control.
She gave you butterflies whenever she was around. You just responded with "I'm sorry"
"It's cute, Duck, you're fine. But don't do that again yeah?" She kept holding your face "At least not with that bitch you were dancing with, she’s such a loser babe"
"Yeah, fine fine. But anyone who isn’t you or your gang is a loser to you” you teased.
"Whatever. Now come here and hold me, baby" She had you wrapped around her little finger, more so than anyone else. You felt your feelings for Regina grow, but you didn't dare to confess. You didn't want to lose what you had.
You lay on your back and Regina laid her head on your chest, then you were stroking her back and held her close to you. You kissed her forehead sweetly and lovingly, earning an adorable 'Mm', and you were getting slowly coaxed into sleep by her gentle steady breathing.
Part 3 of Cheering Her Up
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sunny44 · 7 months
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Lemonade for Carlos
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x wife!reader x mom!reader
Warnings: mentions of difficulties of getting pregnant
Summary: Your’s and Carlos daughter wants to sell lemonade to buy him a birthday present, so you help her set up a lemonade stand.
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I was just finishing the pancakes for breakfast when I heard Eva's rapid footsteps coming down the stairs.
"Mommy." She says, entering the kitchen. "Can I buy a present for Dad? For his birthday."
"Sure, have you thought about what you want to buy? We can go today if you want."
"But I don't have any money."
"I'll buy it for you, my love don’t worry."
"No, I want to buy it with my own money."
"And how are you going to get this money?" I asked, putting her in her chair and leaving the plate of pancakes on the table.
"I'm going to work." She says innocently.
"What are you going to work at?" I asked, pouring her a juice.
"Selling lemonade, a friend of mine from school said she got money to buy a doll by selling lemonade."
"Do you want to sell lemonade in front of the house?" She agrees.
"Please mommy, tell me I can." She looks at me with those same big brown eyes as her father.
"All right, we'll buy things after breakfast and set up your stand in front of the house."
...
After breakfast we get out of the house and went to the store to buy the necessary supplies, we bought lemons, sugar and colorful paper for a sign.
Eva couldn't contain her excitement as we set up a lemonade stand in our front yard.
After setting up we sat down and waited for the first people to come by and buy.
She wanted to write on the sign "Lemonade for Carlos" and when people came to buy she explained that she was selling it to buy a birthday present for her dad.
Obviously her cute face and speech moved people who ended up buying the lemonades and I had also made some cookies and brownies that she was selling too.
We were at the end of the day when Carlos arrived, as the race was here in Spain this weekend, the team was organizing here so he was in a meeting all day.
"What are you two doing?" He asks and as soon as she sees him she starts to smile.
"Daddy." She runs up to him who, after taking her in his arms, walks towards me and starts laughing at the sign.
"Lemonade for Carlos?" He asks.
"Yes, mommy and I sold lemonade so I could buy you your birthday present." she said excitedly and I could see that he loved her attitude.
"Oh baby, I love what you've done." She smiles and hugs him tighter.
"Well, we've finished work, so what do you say we go in, have a shower and celebrate with pizza?" They both agreed and that's what we did.
...
Eva was already asleep and I was lying on our bed sending the photos of the lemonade stand to Carlos' mother, who thought it was very funny that her granddaughter had come up with the idea.
"Are you going to sleep yet?" He asked, lying down next to me.
"Actually, I was going to read a bit, but if you want to talk." I say, putting the book in my nightstand and turning to him.
"Whose idea was that? The lemonade thing?"
"Your daughter's." I say and he smiles. "She came down today asking if she could buy you a present and I said I'd give her some money but she didn't want to and said she'd work to get the money."
"I love that little girl more than anything." He says sighing and smiling at the ceiling.
I remember very well the day I told him I was pregnant, we'd been trying for a while but it wasn't working. It had been a difficult few months for us, with the problem of getting pregnant, Carlos busy with work and stressed that the Ferrari wasn't good this year.
So I had tests done because I thought the problem was me and that I couldn't get pregnant but when the tests came back clean it added more stress to Carlos because he started to think the he was the problem.
So on the day he went for the test I stayed at home and took advantage of the fact that I was feeling unwell and took the test out of conscience and it turned out I was pregnant. I did a few more to make sure and when they all came back positive I spent the whole time Carlos was away crying and when he came back I told him and he started crying with me, both with relief and happiness.
"I know you do." I said, hugging him. "And I love you for it."
"Do you want more?"
"More what?"
"Children." He says, taking me by surprise.
It's not as if I hadn't already thought about having more children, but Carlos never showed that he wanted more. I think the fact that he gave Eva all the attention in the world made me think that he only wanted her.
"Maybe, do you want more?"
"Before Eva I thought about having more but then we had the problem of having her so when you got pregnant I was content that we'd just have her and I put all my attention and effort into making that little girl happy, but then over the years I started to think that I want to do it again and that I want her to have someone else with her when we're not here anymore." He says sincerely.
"I also want more children with you." He smiles."I never said anything because you never showed that you wanted more children and I see how dedicated you are to Eva."
"But if you wanted more children, why didn't you tell me?"
"Because as much as I wanted to, it's not something I'd regret if I didn't, I love you and our family so much and I am really happy with what we have."
"I love you too and we don't need to decide anything now."
"I know." He smiles and kisses me.
"Daddy." We hear that little voice at the door. "Can I come in?"
"Yes." He says, pulling away from me and looking at the door to see her come in clutching a Lightning McQueen plush Charles gave her since she calls him Uncle McQueen. "What happened?"
"It's just that I missed you and I was wondering if I could sleep with you and mommy." She says and I can see Carlos melting with love.
"Of course you can, my love." He says and she goes to his side, who picks her up and puts her in the middle of us. "I love you, you know that?"
"Yes, I love you too." She says, closing her eyes. "Good night mommy, good night daddy."
"Good night, baby." We kissed her forehead and all went to sleep.
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Bonus scene!
Y/nsainz instagram post
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Liked by @carlossainz, @charlesleclerc, @reysvdec and others 92730
Y/nsainz “Lemonade for Carlos”, who wants it?
@carlossainz can I have one please?
@y/nsainz yess you can daddy - Eva
@charlesleclerc can uncle McQueen have one too?
@y/nsainz yess you can uncle McQueen - Eva
@Thesainzfamily that’s the best seller ever
@reysvdec muy hermosa
Liked by @y/nsainz and @carlossainz
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shoyoist · 1 year
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゚+* ꔫ — 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒 + 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 !!
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content: gn!reader. sfw — fluff. slightly suggestive in shidou's part. featuring: bachira meguru, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, michael kaiser. some of these hcs were suggested to me by other tumblr users! they are credited separately under each part<3
— . 。˚ ♡ he thinks of these special moments whenever he's feeling down, and it helps him get right back up.
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° 𐐒𐐚 . bachira meguru + painting date!
credit to @katasstrophy for the idea! the bachira family has a little art studio built in their house, owned by bachira's mom. he takes you there one time, and though you'd been doing your best to keep things clean for his mother's sake, the two of you end up making a huge mess.
you're intently dabbing brown and yellow paint on your little canvas, looking back at the mental image you've conjured of your boyfriend sitting in a field of flowers and smiling at you, when you hear shuffling behind you.
"baby, baby," is all bachira says in warning. "look this way!" and you turn around, wide-eyed and inquiring as you finally look away from the canvas on which you've been meticulously painting a picture of your rogueishly adorable boyfriend—
only to be met with a splat of bright pink paint across your face. "m—meguru? what the hell?" it's on your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth that had been open in question to bachira's urgent request for you to turn around, and it's nearly in your eye. "god i could've eaten that shit!"
the sound of bachira's unapologetic giggling fills the quiet studio as you get up and pluck a wad of tissues from the box on the table nearby, wiping your face off with it. while your back is turned, he flicks his paint-sopped brush at you again, and you feel the paint hit the back of your neck. "don't do that!"
you stand up straight and turn your back to your easel, squaring your shoulders and doing your best to protect the painting.
"it's—" bachira's laughing so hard now, he snorts in between his words. "it's even worse now, baby — it's all over your face!" and you know that. because you can feel the paint smear down to your chin as you wipe. oh, you think, he's so fucking cute right now, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkly as he giggles.
but that's not going to stop you from retaliating. meguru, you're about to get it.
his mother chewed him out and made him clean the place up afterwards, but bachira would do it again and again and again, just to see your pretty smile and hear your pretty laugh, your eyes lit up as you tried to stay angry with him while the two of you made a mess of yourselves and the studio once more.
° 𐐒𐐚 . hyoma chigiri + poetry analysis date!
credit to @yakshasslut for the idea! chigiri gives you a book of his favourite love poems to read while he's away, and by the time he comes back home, you're brimming with tender feelings for him and he flusters so sweetly when you express it. ever since, it's been a tradition to share and mull over novels and poems together.
not many of chigiri's friends or teammates are well-versed in poetry or literature in general, but there is one novel of prose that each and every one of them can name and recognize within an instant — and it's a book that you gave your boyfriend as a gift, years ago.
it doesn't have much of you in it — it's a collection of poems that express the joys and pains of long distance love, and the only hint of you in it is the lipstick kiss on the front page, with a "for hyoma, my one and only<3" written on it in your handwriting.
he takes it everywhere. flicks through the pages while he's on the plane, while he's resting in his hotel room, and sometimes even takes it with him to games.
he takes so much care to keep it safe and in good condition, but it's quite worn now— he can't bring himself to shelf it, though. it's his most prized posession, almost.
he reads it and keeps in mind that while he's away, you're reading the new book that he had gifted you before he left, and he smiles to himself, imagining how you underline and draw hearts around your favourite lines and write little pencil notes about how "this is you @ me!"
don't get it wrong, chigiri loves being on the field. he loves the glamour, the adrenaline, the fire of scoring a goal — but at his heart, he's soft. domestic.
he hopes fondly for the day he'll get to lay in bed with you again (he's only going to be away for two weeks. but it feels like two months, or even years, sometimes) and have a cozy little date where you just sip on warm coffee and share sweet cakes while mulling over poems together.
it's comforting. it's home.
he thinks about the worn book of poems that sits on your shelf, back at your place. the one he gave you.
the one you read all the time, leaving new annotations bookmarked for him to find each time he picks the book up for a read.
if he ever actually tired of football, chigiri thinks he might just become a poet. for you.
° 𐐒𐐚 . mikage reo + picnic date at the beach!
credit to anonymous! reo is a rich man, and he's so used to fancy dinner dates, luxury trips, first class service, all that. so when you take him on a cute little beach date, getting him to help you cut sandwiches and bake brownies and cookies earlier in the day, it was a new experience for him. and he loves it.
“reo, what about here?” you ask, turning around to look at him as you hop in your cute little sandals on the sand. he's carrying the picnic basket and you have the blanket folded under your arms — and he's been following you across the pretty beach for about fifteen minutes now.
though you ask him if he likes the spot, he knows from the look in your eyes that you actually like this place, and it's nice! the sand is soft and there's not a lot of rocks or seaweed under foot, the shore is a short walk away, and the sunset spills so pretty onto your skin and into your eyes.
he's almost lost in the sight — but when you call his name again, sounding a little concerned as you ask, “reo? you okay?” he snaps out of it and gives you one of his signature, wide and adorable grins. “yeah! here is fine, baby.”
he doesn't know but even his eyes are lit up, the violet of them beautiful and tinted gold in the light of the setting sun, and you can't help but cup his face and kiss him as he puts the basket down and sits on the blanket beside you.
“isn't this fun?” you giggle against his lips, and he hums in agreement, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you in for another kiss. the evening has just started, but he already knows that he'll remember this moment fondly, forever. “mhm, it is fun.”
“you sure?” you ask, tracing his cheek with your thumb, and it's almost a softer, warmer feeling than that of the sun kissing his face. “it's not your usual scene, i know. we can always go to a—”
”no,” reo cuts you off, taking your hand. the smile he gives you is prettier, brighter than any he's ever given you before. it takes your breath away. “it's not my usual scene, yeah.” he chuckles. “in fact, i've never had a picnic on the beach in my life until now. but it's... nice. i love it.”
he says it so softly, and it's rare, coming from your bubbly, bright and ever-so-forward lover. and that's how you know he's telling you the truth.
“alright then.” you kiss his cheek, pulling away and sitting back, dragging the basket closer so you can take the food out. it's just a little kiss, the same as any other kiss you've given his cheek — but somehow, it holds a different sort of warmth, and it comforts him. makes him feel so softly, gently beloved.
and he swears he'll hold this warmth to his cheek, to his chest, to his heart — forever.
° 𐐒𐐚 . michael kaiser + homemade spa date!
credit to anonymous! off days with kaiser are the nicest spent indoors. you go on outdoor dates (and on dates overseas) so often, that it's a nice change to stay at home once in a while and spend some sweet, domestic time with him instead.
“mikka,” your tone is scolding as you cradle his face in your palms, stopping him from wiggling around as you try to stay balanced in his lap. “can you stop moving? the serum is getting in your hair!”
kaiser laughs, the lift of his lips making him look all the more prettier, and hence all the more fucking distracting, as you try to wipe the residual bits of the face mask you'd just peeled off your boyfriend's face, replacing the thick, opaque cleanser with softly translucent moisturizer.
he taps your palmful of moisturizer with an index finger, and with a quick move of the digit he swipes the blob on your nose, making you flinch back and blink in surprise.
“mikka!”
ah, there it is. mission successful. kaiser almost wishes he could go to sleep forever and in his dreams, listen to you calling him by that sweet little petname for the rest of his life. almost.
because he wishes more than that to kiss you all the time. like right now. he leans forward, the smile stretching his mouth giving away his intention to you, but not in time for you to escape. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, kissing you with soft, sweet and swollen lips that you'd just finished exfoliating with sugar and honey.
“baby,” your eyebrows furrow, but you still kiss him back and it makes him chuckle because oh, for all the fuss you make and all the scowling you do, you love him so. “we'll never get to the manipedi by movie time at this rate.”
“movie time can wait, princess,” he sighs against your lips. “all i want right now is to watch you, anyway.”
and his words are romantic, suggestive, and they'd bring a blush to your cheeks for sure — if he hadn't accidentally tipped you off balance in that second.
“mikka!—” you yelp (to his delight) as he grabs you and tries to steady you — but even as he saves you, your hand reflexively flails upwards to curl around his arm for support.
and with a smack, the moisturizer is all over his bicep instead of lathered evenly across his face as it should be.
the upset on your face is apparent, but kaiser only grins expectantly as he grips your waist, adjusts your position in his lap again, waiting.
and you don't disappoint. “look what you've done! mikka!”
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fckoffjakegyllenhaal · 2 months
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fallingforyou (2)
// lottie matthew’s does not like you. you’re annoying, preppy, and way too nice. lottie doesn’t fail to show you time after time just how much she hates you. you finally get the message and steer clear of her, until senior year, when you both get paired up for a science project. //
warnings: asshole!lottie, sweet!reader, enemies to lovers, allusions to lottie’s shitty home life, lottie doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions. i picked random names for y/n’s siblings lol.
(this is part 2 of the series, read part 1 here.)
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i read between the lines (i’ll take it one day at a time)
when you tell lottie ‘whenever’, you didn’t actually think she’d show up unannounced on wednesday evening. she’s wearing her soccer practice clothes, and her hair is tied in the usual pigtails it always is in whenever she practices. “y-you’re here.” you stutter a bit stupidly; you’re wearing an oversized sweatshirt and biker shorts that are so short lottie assumes you aren’t wearing any pants. your glasses are off, and your hair is let down in unruly curls. she’s never seen you so… unguarded. she isn’t used to it. usually you’re wearing some girly outfit and those glasses that are almost as dorky as misty quigley’s.
“you told me to come whenever. it’s whenever.” lottie blurts out, as she attempts to walk past you but she stops herself. “sorry.” she mutters as she leans down to untie her cleats. you shake your head quickly, stopping her, “oh it’s okay! you don’t have to do that, my mom doesn’t care about shoes.” you assure her and lottie slowly stands up straight, stopping herself from taking her cleats off. her parents would reprimand her time and time again for wearing shoes in the house. she always thought the rule was stupid, considering her parents didn’t even clean their house. the maids did it for them.
right away lottie notices your house is very loud. there are two younger boys watching tv in the living room, screaming as they talked to each other. “those are my brothers. ignore them. i do.” you dismissively explain as you begin to lead lottie towards the hallway. you stop halfway, turning to gaze at her, “did you want anything to drink? i have soda, water, apple juice…” you trail off, and lottie’s cheeks tint. she’s thirsty; she just finished practicing after all. she nods, “apple juice.” she answers. you nod as you rush to the kitchen, leaving her standing alone.
“y/n!!” a loud, angry, feminine voice from the end of the hall causes lottie to look over in the direction it’s coming from. she sees an older girl standing by an open bedroom, waiting for you to respond. “y/n!!” she shouts again, “she’s in the kitchen.” lottie answers bluntly, in order to avoid from hearing the college student shriek again. “i was getting juice! do you have to yell so loudly?” you ask cattily, in a tone lottie has never heard from you. lottie immediately remembers what you said the other day, about your older sister being a bitch.
your older sister marches up to you, fury in her eyes and for a second lottie is afraid the older girl might punch you in the face. “i need you to tell me if this outfit makes me look fat.” she says sternly and lottie watches the interaction in shock, as you shake your head. “no, i think it’s cute— hey is that my top!?” you shriek, and the older girl lets out a tinkling laugh as she rushes away and retreats back into one of the bedrooms. “elise!! i haven’t even worn that yet!“ you whine, but the only response you get is more obnoxious laughter.
you sigh, handing lottie a glass of cold apple juice. “i told you she’s a bitch.” you point out as you begin to lead lottie down the hallway. the room all the way at the end is yours, and as soon as lottie walks in she sees all the books on your shelves above your bed. she then notices how pink your bedsheets are, and how much color there is around the room. it’s not too much color, but it’s clear you’re unintentionally a very colorful person. there are polaroid pictures of you and your siblings around the room; some on your desk, some pinned on the wall. you even have a few of you and nat.
lottie sees the baby pictures and the ones of you and your older sister as babies in a bath tub together. another little girl who looks just like you seems to appear in the pictures after elise is already three, and you’re one. then after that, the little girl is by your side in every picture; practically glued to your side. you always look so happy in each snapped moment, even in the ones you aren’t smiling in, your eyes show you’re happy and safe. another thing lottie realizes she envies about you. your house is twice as small as hers, with twice as many people… it’s loud and the living room is messy…
… yet lottie likes your house more than hers, and she’s only been here for ten minutes. maybe that’s why natalie’s always over here; always talking about hanging out at your place after parties. you never went to any parties… lottie’s only seen you at one and after that you didn’t come to any more. you’ve never shown up at any of hers that’s for sure. “that’s my little sister.” you interrupt her thoughts, as you notice her eyeing the pictures. “you two look… close.” she observes, and you giggle as you take a seat on your bed, reaching for your backpack on the floor. “yeah, don’t tell elise but sabrina was technically my first friend ever. i tell her everything.” you admit and lottie nods.
“i’ve seen her around school. i didn’t even know she was your sister.” she confesses, causing you to shrug. “she’s working on being the most ‘popular’ girl in school. she’s been a little busy.” you half joke and lottie nods, “she’s on the jv cheer team, right?” she asks curiously as you flip open your chemistry notebook. “yup. she’s been following becky martin around like a puppy since the year started.” you answer curtly and lottie snorts at the obvious change in your tone. “what? jealous your little sister is becoming more popular than you?” she questions with a taunting sneer, and you frown.
“no, i don’t care about that. sabrina is pretty, of course she’s gonna be more popular. i just don’t think she needs to be like becky martin to do it.” you explain, and lottie is a bit surprised by the truthfulness of your response, and before she can reply, you’re beating her to it. “so i was thinking you could do all the physical presenting, and i can just recite everything and write it all. of course you’re gonna help by giving me your ideas and what you think…” you trail off, before looking at her. “is that okay with you?” you inquire, and she nods. “yeah, that’s fine. whatever.” she sounds like she doesn’t care and this makes you shake your head, holding yourself back from saying something snarky.
lottie isn’t the only one who gets snappy when she’s annoyed, you’re just better at biting your tongue than she is.
over the next few days, lottie shows up at your house after practice ends, and she stays until after the sun sets. she doesn’t mean to stay for that long. the first day she came over, she genuinely just lost track of time. for some reason being around you isn’t as torturous as she thought it would be. in fact, being around you, especially in a cozy home that seems full of lightheartedness and noise… is shockingly nice. particularly because she knows what’s waiting for her at home. absolutely nothing.
right away the other yellowjackets notice a change in lottie’s behavior. she isn’t snappy or angry anymore; sure she still talks shit whenever someone tries her, but that’s how lottie’s always been. natalie is the first who notices lottie isn’t scowling or grumpy anymore. mari is especially thankful for it during soccer practice. “so, y/n told me you’ve actually been a decent human being to her.” natalie starts, as she walks out of the locker room with lottie. it’s monday, and practice had just ended a little later than expected.
“if that’s what she wants to call it, then yeah, sure.” lottie mutters, as she makes her way to the parking lot. “hey, before you go, y/n told me to tell you not to show up to her house today. something came up.” natalie causes lottie to stop in her tracks, not even caring that her driver was waiting for her in the car. “what do you mean? she didn’t tell me anything.” lottie says and natalie chuckles, “said she couldn’t find you after lunch.” the blonde’s response is simple yet it doesn’t seem to satisfy lottie. “what came up? she literally said she was free every day after school.” lottie sounds annoyed now.
natalie looks a bit puzzled for a second, before a wave of realization hits her. “wait… are you actually upset you can’t go to y/n’s today? i figured you’d be thrilled.” natalie says in this unrecognizable way that makes lottie glare. “i’m not upset about anything! excuse me if i just want to get this project over with.” lottie hisses defensively, and natalie only smirks in response. “uh, okay matthews; whatever you say. just don’t show up at her house today, okay?” she asks warningly, making lottie roll her eyes. “i heard you the first time.” the raven haired girl snaps.
and just like that, lottie’s bad mood returns. who would’ve guessed that charlotte isobel matthews would actually enjoy being in your cramped house, and inside of your girly bedroom.
lottie knows you didn’t cancel yesterday on purpose. she knows you’ve been smiling more at her in the hallways, and she knows she’s definitely been nicer to you over the last few days than she ever has in her high school career. maybe it’s because instead of being stuck in her big empty house after school, she’s spending her days cramped up in your room, or noisy living room… the smell of whatever your mother had made for lunch still lingering in the air. lottie enjoyed it. perhaps that’s why the next day at school she takes her bad mood out on you. she bumps shoulders with you when you try to talk to her in the hall, walking past you as if she didn’t even hear you.
she didn’t even look back to see the frown on your face. you couldn’t help but feel confused and a bit sad; you figured you both were over this silly, pointless feud. this stupid, meaningless battle. but it was like lottie had other ideas. right when you thought you two were on the same page, she proved to you that you weren’t even reading the same book. you try not to think about lottie the entire day, but it’s hard. you notice her at lunch; she doesn’t even look at you. that isn’t abnormal, but she has this everlasting scowl on her face. when fifth period finally rolls around, you can’t help but feel a bundle of nerves budding inside the pit of your stomach. seeing lottie matthews always has this affect on you.
lottie’s already in class when you walk in, and this time, her head tilts to the side, and her dark eyes lock with yours. your breath gets lodged in your windpipe, and your step falters on your way to your seat. you try your absolute hardest not to look at lottie, or her insufferably pretty face. you take your note book and chemistry book out, along with a pencil, before averting your gaze forward. (even though the class hasn’t even started yet.)
the bell rings, and the rest of the students shuffle in, taking a seat before your teacher starts blabbering on and on. it’s usually easy to keep yourself busy during class; easy to focus… but for some reason, sharing a class with lottie matthews seems to be a curse. you can never seem to concentrate fully. when someone taps on your back, you turn around and jenny myers hands you a folded note. you furrow your eyebrows, as she gestures to lottie who’s not even bothering to look at you. you take the note and face forward again.
“you skipping out on me again today?”
you turn your head to glare at the raven haired jock after reading the note. she only smirks at your clearly agitated expression, feeling a wave of satisfaction at being the one to frustrate you. you quickly look down at the note, and scribble something back.
“i was at my grandmas house yesterday. sorry, jerk.”
you pass the note back to lottie, and you avert your attention onto ms. weinstein again who is now talking about another subject. you mentally curse lottie matthews for being so fucking distracting.
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rustedhearts · 9 months
Text
send her my love (boxer!steve x fem!librarian!reader)
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summary: a series of letters written after your recent breakup with steve, recounting your time apart.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
♡ the king of the ring ♡ main masterlist
tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mushy-gushy-lovey-dovey love letters.
a/n: pretty self explanatory, but libby’s letters are in pink, steve’s are in black ♡
“…how it hurt so bad to see her cry. i didn’t want to say goodbye. send her my love, memories remain. send her my love, roses never fade.”
—send her my love, journey
december 1992—march 1993
♡ ♡
12/05/92
Dear Libby,
Dear god I hope you open this. My hands are shaking so bad around the pen that I’m sure it’ll be all scratchy and shit, but I hope you know that I’m trying. I know how much you love letters, and after you stopped picking up my calls a few weeks ago…I figured this was the best way to reach you.
It’s been almost a month since we last saw each other. I hate thinking about that day. I hate thinking about you crying, and crying because of me. Because of something I did. I want you to know that I take full accountability for what I did, my love. That’s a word they said I should use more often. Accountability. “They” would be Big and Mikey. When they heard about what happened…I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of them so mad. I think, for a moment, Big thought about coming out of retirement just to kick my ass into next year.
I patched up the wall myself. It was my mess to clean. The house seems so big and empty without you. I never realized it echoed before.
I don’t blame you for going home, baby. I know you’ve been wanting to go for a while. I know I drove you away. Pushed you away. I was so terrible to you and I see that now. I’m so sorry it took something so awful for me to see it. But you were right. I’m just like my father. And I needed someone to tell me that so I could realize how fucking stupid and awful I’ve been.
I hope you don’t mind that I used some of your stationary to write this to you. You left it on the desk downstairs. The shelves came in for your books and I put them up. Maybe when you come home, we can fill them up. I’ll buy you all the books in the world, my girl.
I’m sorry. Please know that.
Love,
Steve.
♡ ♡
12/10/92
Steve,
I was surprised to receive your letter. When I stopped answering and your calls stopped coming, I assumed we were done for good. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Despite my every want to feel the opposite, I’m still so terribly in love with you that my head hurts every waking moment of the day. I ache with it. Now that we’re apart, it bleeds. It has nowhere to go. I have nowhere to put it. But this was your doing, Steven. I don’t want you to forget that.
We both said terrible things that day, but what you did was unforgivable. You promised from the start to never raise a hand against me in anger. You promised to never become the thing you hated. I took your word as bond, and perhaps that was my mistake. Perhaps that’s my grievance to regret.
I miss you terribly, but this time apart will be good for us. It’s what we need. I’ve been away from home since I was 19. My brother stands taller than me. His voice is so much deeper than when I left. They’re getting computers at the library soon. Everything is so different, yet it all still seems the same. But even these tiny differences make me realize how long I’ve been away.
It’s snowing here in Hawkins and I helped mom put up the Christmas lights. Nick and I had a snowball fight. I felt ten years old again. Mom made hot chocolate and we watched Charlie Brown. I know how much you love Charlie Brown’s Christmas. But in that moment, I felt wonderfully calm. I felt okay. I felt happy.
And it made me wonder…were we happy, Steve? Or have we been pretending for too long?
I’m glad my shelves came. Use them for your trophies.
XO,
Libby
♡ ♡
12/14/92
Libby,
I can’t tell you how happy I was to get your letter in the mail. I’ve been scared to open it for the past two days. But the thought of going a moment more without knowing what you said would kill me. I can hear your voice so clearly when I read your words.
I’ll never forget what I did that day, Libby. It will always be a reminder of how awful I’ve become. And it will always be a reminder of who I don’t want to be ever again.
I know it doesn’t mean much now since I’m a few months too late, but I’m talking to someone. A shrink or whatever. Big recommended him. Apparently he specializes in “anger issues.” You know how I feel about sitting down and whining about my problems, but…I don’t know. Maybe it’ll help. If it turns me back into the man you loved then I’ll sit on that couch and talk for days.
You asked if we were pretending, and for me at least, I never pretended for a moment. There wasn’t a second that went by that I didn’t love you with every ounce of my being. I’m sorry if you felt you had to pretend. I’m sorry that you weren’t happy, and if you give me the chance, I’ll do my best to make you happy this time around.
No amount of trophies or champion belts in the world could make up for the loss of you, my angel. Please know that and believe it.
Yours,
Steve
♡ ♡
12/22/92
Steve,
I hate the way your words make my heart pound. All that love is still so strong, and it’s all still festering in me. But the heartache is just as powerful. The heartache is just as real.
I cannot give you a second chance just yet. I don’t think we’ve quite earned it. I don’t think we’ve yet reached a point where we’re both okay—on our own. I want to be okay even without you. I fear I’ve become so reliant on you to tell me where life will go, because my life has revolved around your own. I’ve never found my own path to wander. I want that opportunity now.
I went to the Hideout tonight. A Christmas party with some friends. I haven’t felt that young in years, Steve. I’m only 22.
Merry Christmas, Steve. And happy New Year.
XO,
Libby
♡ ♡
1/3/93
Libby,
Christmas was lonely without you. Mikey invited me to his "bachelor pad" in L.A for a "booze fest" (all his words). Gargling gravel sounded like a better time. For a minute, I thought maybe it might be good to get out. To be my own person, like you said. But everything just feels so dull now.
I thought about mailing your present, but I figured you'd just get upset. I want to respect your space and our time apart. My shrink says I have to find more time for other people's wants and needs instead of just prioritizing my own. Is that what I've been doing, Libby? Is that what I've always done?
I guess I kinda did. Took you away from the library and your home. I just wanted you with me all the time. I couldn’t imagine getting through that first string of fights without you. I don’t think I’d be the fighter I am today if I didn’t have you there.
I guess I’m talking about “me” a lot again. I’m sorry I do that.
I hope your Christmas was nice. Hope it snowed the way you like.
Love,
Steve
♡ ♡
1/28/93
Libby,
I haven’t heard from you all month. I thought I’d reach out again. For a few days, I had myself convinced my letter got lost in the mail. I waited for a “return to sender” to come. I think I would’ve preferred the honest rejection to your silence. It’s been so quiet here, my girl. I miss the sound of your voice in our home.
The fights mean nothing anymore. I won the Russell fight last week and felt nothing. Ever since you left, victory tastes stale. The referees declare the winner and I just hear static. Jesus, I miss you so much I started reading some of your sappy literature last week. It’s clearly having an affect.
I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re good. I miss you more and more with every passing day. I miss you more than I thought was ever humanly possible for one person to miss another. I never thought this deep of a feeling could exist. This “break” has taught me a lot.
Been talking to the shrink more too. He says I have an issue with authority and always need to feel in control because of how my dad was. Big fucking brain on this guy, huh? Must’ve went to school in Dumb Fuckville.
Sorry. I’m trying to be kinder. Not swear so much. Wish they made patches for anger like they do for nicotine. Something to ease the ache. But it’s hard to quit something you were born into. The Harrington rage doesn’t just disappear over night. But I swear I’m trying. I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, baby. I’m doing my best to be better.
I hope I hear from you. I hope you’re alright.
I love you.
— Steve
♡ ♡
2/3/93
Steve,
I meant to write. I’ve been so busy now that I’m at the library full time again. I forgot how taxing it can truly be, but it’s like riding a bike. The smell of the books, the feel of the paper, the conversations you have with readers who don’t know where to look, or the ones who do and are searching for more. I forgot how important I feel between those stacks of books.
My girlfriends and I have been going out. They never got to celebrate my twenty-first with me, so we had a belated celebration a few weeks ago. We went to a bar in Indianapolis, took a bus the whole way there. The bar was loud and hot and sticky, and someone spilled beer all over my purse. I know you would’ve hated it, but part of me wished you were there. Bodies were pressing against each other on the dance floor, touching and smearing sweat—but all I wanted to feel was yours. Your familiar frame, right next to me. Only with you have I ever felt so secure.
Anyway, I got my first hangover, and that wasn’t fun. Especially because I’m still staying with my parents and they still think I’m seventeen. Nick tried to get me to buy him beer for his friends. I wish I could be this ‘cool’ older sister for him, but right now he doesn’t like me very much.
I watched your fight last week. There’s something so different in the way you move now. Your punches seem heavier, harder. You take more hits before you hit back. I wish you wouldn’t do that. You know I always worry, Steve. I worry about what might happen if you take too many hits. All those concussions can’t be good. I’m no doctor, but I figure eventually, they’ll catch up to you. I don’t want to see that happen. I can’t fathom the idea of losing you like that. No matter what happens between us, I always want to know you’re well. Selfishly, I always want to know you're out there if I need to call.
I’m glad to know you’re trying, and that you’re still going to therapy. I think it’s very healthy, Steve, and I appreciate and value your honesty. And….I miss you too.
Yours,
Libby
♡ ♡
2/12/93
Libby,
There hasn't been a moment that's gone by since you left that I haven't wished I was with you. In whatever way that might be, all I've wanted is to feel your body next to mine. I miss your touch, your smell, your smile. I never want to know another kiss but yours. I never want to hold another body in my arms that isn't yours. I don't think I could stomach the thought of never having that again.
The longer the time between us lasts and the further the distance grows, the worse I ache for you. God I sound like a fucking dope. It's all those novels you left me, I swear I'm not this sappy. But I guess with you I am.
Please forgive me. Please come home. All I can do now is beg, and show you how hard I'm trying.
I love you, angel. There's nobody and nothing but you.
Love,
Steve
P.S. You're the best big sister. Nick will see that one day when his brain isn't full of beer and Playboy.
P.P.S. Happy early Valentine's Day, baby. I hope the flowers are okay.
♡ ♡
2/17/93
Dear Steve,
I loved the flowers, and I loved the sap. Reading your last letter brought tears to my eyes, and for the first time in a while, they were blissful. I cannot begin to describe the size of the welt in my chest. It feels bruised by your absence and my longing.
Despite every bone in my body yearning for you, I cannot come home. Not yet. I'm not ready. I don't think you are, either. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and while it pains both of us to endure it, I think they're right. Whoever "they" are.
In the spirit of all this honesty, I have to admit: Tom Marrow asked me out for Valentine's Day. And god damn you, Steve, I said no. I said no because I'm wilting without your sun shining on me, and I'm lost without you by my side. I said no because I'll never be able to look into the face of another man without wishing it was yours.
I said no because I know, one day (maybe soon, maybe not), I'll come home to you. Don't let that get to your head.
Love,
Libby
♡ ♡
2/22/93
Libby,
My heart has never suffered as many palpitations in all my high-risk athletic career as it did reading your letter. I hate the way the paper crumpled in my fist when I read about fucking Tom. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to abandon the jealousy that fills me when I think of you with another man. But I can admit, it reached a point even I don't like to think of. I was letting it control me. I'm trying not to do that anymore.
The paper smelled like you this time. You don't know how badly I've missed that smell. I sort of feel like a hound-dog, tracing for more of it in the ink. That's what you've reduced me to, my love. An animal searching for you in the earth.
Please come home. Please come back to me.
Yours,
Steve
♡ ♡
3/2/93
My darling Steve,
I'm coming home to you. Please unlock the door.
Yours always,
Libby
♡ ♡
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auteurdelabre · 6 months
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Something to Fight For (Series) (PART 3)
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Word Count: 7.7
Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)
Warnings: This is saccharine slice of life with smut and a Soft!Joel. You have been warned. There is swearing, there is smut, but when it gets to those chapters you will have plenty of warning. (That is if there is interest in my story!)
A/N: This is part of a series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bus groans the curb at the end of Rancher Street, the doors hissing as they open. 
It's embarrassing to be taking a bus to a fucking babysitting job at your age. Equally embarrassing to not have a vehicle in the first place because your ex boyfriend convinced you he needed it more for his gigs and since you were dating and in love at the time, you'd readily accepted that reasoning. 
You step off the bus, walking hurriedly up the suburban street with your purse over one shoulder and a Wal-Mart bag in your right hand. 
A few houses are bustling with laughing kids, not surprisingly so given that it's the start of a lazy Texas fall. They chase each other squealing with delight. Others are playing hide and seek. You smile at this before looking into your purse at the sound of your phone ringing. 
"Hey Mom, what's up?"
"Hi bug," comes your mother's tired voice on the other end of the line. Immediately you tense, the fatigue clear in her tone. Instinctively you’ve curled into yourself, as if the weight of her words will cause a physical strike.
"Is everything okay?"
"Got a bit of good news," she assures you with a soft sigh. "Doctor says maybe April, maybe. But that's only if. . . You know."
"Yeah, I know."
There's a long pause in which you can hear the static sound of hospital beeps and intercoms. Then her voice is back, fainter than before. 
"Do you think you might come visit?"
You lower the phone from your ear, unable to listen to this request. The same request you've received for the last eight months. The same request you’ve denied over and over.
"I don't think it's a good idea," you say when you finally bring the phone back to your ear. The house’s address glints in the fading sunlight, drawing your attention. "Anyway, I gotta go to work. Love you."
You close your cell phone before she even has the chance to say goodbye. With a hollow feeling in your stomach you focus on the note you'd written yourself with Joel's address, double checking you’ve got the right place. 
You look up to see a modest looking home with dark yellow exterior and white accents. For some reason this strikes you as odd, not meshing with the vision you have of the man. 
The lawn is well maintained, the porch sturdy and polished looking. This doesn't surprise you given his career. There is a rocking chair out the front porch and you imagine Joel sitting there and scaring all the neighborhood children. 
You knock on the heavy wooden door feeling strangely out of place. You're still not sure why Joel wanted you of all people to babysit Sarah. Joel with his strict adherence to all things his way or the highway. 
You hear heavy footsteps over creaking wood floors approaching the door and you subconsciously tense.
Joel opens the door wide and you note that with his hair slicked back from the shower, curling past his ears he resembles his younger brother more. He's dressed in dark slacks and a white button down. A narrow black tie hangs loosely at his lean throat. You'd say he cleans up nice but under all of that he's still annoying Joel Miller. 
He eyes the Wal-Mart bag in your hand with suspicion before darting his dark eyes back to your face. 
"What's in there?"
"Crayons, coloring books," you glance into the plastic bag to remind yourself. "Snacks. Water."
"You think I don't have those things here?" Joel says in a voice that sounds neither amused or irritated. 
“Never been here," you shrug. "Wasn't sure what to expect."
He says nothing more but his broad shouldered frame recedes back, allowing you space to enter. You walk over the threshold, your eyes scanning his place. 
The house looks like every other box home on the street, which surprises you. You'd assumed that as a carpenter there would be more artistic touches like in Frank and Bill's home. 
It's more nondescript with dark burgundy walls and a kitchen table littered with mail and that mornings cereal bowls (you pray it's from that morning). Joel seems to notice your gaze because he promptly reaches over and takes them to the sink. 
"Sarah goes to bed at seven thirty. She's already in her pyjamas. All she needs is to brush her teeth." Joel is rinsing the bowls and putting them in the dishwasher.
"Snacks are in there.” He points to the tall pantry door. "And I've left my cell, her doctor's number and Tommy's, not that it'll do you any good because he's an island away on some romantic retreat. Anything goes wrong you call me." 
You nod, your attention drawn to studying your surroundings. This place seems too domestic, almost bland. After a cursory look around you decide that it doesn't fit Joel. 
But then again what does? A funeral home? A crypt?
"Shouldn't be home too late," Joel mutters, wiping his damp hands on the fuzzy hand towel hanging from the arm of the stove.
"Okay." You think of his meeting he’s going to tonight. "Good luck with the bid."
"Thanks," Joel says distractedly moving to the bottom of the stairs and calling up. "Sarah! The candy lady is here!"
He must see the confusion on your face because an uncharacteristic smirk is tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"She's been talking about her friend 'the candy lady' every day since she met you," he explains. "Guess you made an impression." 
You realize now that this is why Joel wanted you to babysit. Because Sarah won't stop talking about you. You feel strangely touched by that, given that you'd only interacted with her for ten minutes.
You have no time to respond to Joel because Sarah is at the top of the stairs in dolphin pyjamas’ and her freshly washed hair in plaited pigtails. When she sees you her face breaks into a wide smile. 
"You're here!"
Holdig the railing she climbs down the stairs as fast as her short legs will allow. You can't help but find her enthusiasm endearing. She stands in front of you seconds later, her cheeks flushed with delight. Her mouth is smeared with that looks like blue icing. In one hand she holds the infamous toad, the other stretches out to you. 
"Wanna play Barbies?"
"Not so fast," Joel says as he drops to his knees, capturing her eyes with his as he uses the hand towel to wipe away the icing at the curve of her mouth. "You be good, huh?"
"Yes Daddy," Sarah says but her eyes are on you, distracted. "I have a mermaid Barbie and ---"
"Sarah," Joel says bringing her attention back to him with his tone. "You listen to her and you go to bed when you're supposed to or there's no park tomorrow. Love you." 
He presses a kiss to the top of her head and pauses when Sarah presses a small hand to his elbow and holds up toad. 
"Don't forget, daddy."
Joel gives a short sigh before giving toad a peck on the top of his fuzzy head. You hold in a smirk at this. 
"G'night toad. Make sure Sarah brushes her teeth."
Joel stands, shaking his head amused when Sarah immediately turns her attention back to you almost shouting your name.
"Want me to show you my toys?"
"Sure," you say allowing her to take your hand and guide you into the den. She excitedly begins showing you the large collection she has. 
Within minutes you're laughing so hard at something Sarah says that you don't hear Joel leave, closing the door gently behind him. 
Sarah is a funny kid. You'd suspected it after you first met her, but an hour later this opinion is solidified. She's currently got her Barbie on a date with her stuffed toad. When you asked her why this was she hadn't even taken a pause before responding.
"You said you had toad boyfriends so Barbie has one too." 
You continue on like this for a bit until Sarah decides she wants to show you her Pokémon cards, and then her Polly pockets. It goes on like this until the carpet is littered with her toys.
The den where you sit and play feels warm and lived in. The plush sofa is under a large window. To one side is the fireplace with a television mounted overhead. The DVD player is set up to the side in a cabinet that also houses many kids DVDs and plenty of board games. The coffee table is a light wood, holding a remote, TV guide and several coloring books. 
On the other side of the room is a large wicker basket that houses most of Sarah's toys and a built-in unit that holds a record player and a very impressive looking vinyl collection. On the wall hang three guitars, all beautifully maintained but dusty from disuse. 
A quick glance at your watch confirms it's almost seven thirty. Normally you wouldn't be too stringent but you don't know how Joel would be if he knew you'd let her stay up. You’re not friends with Joel, barely even on good terms and you have no interest in getting in even deeper to his bad books.
"Okay bug," you say without thinking. "Time for bed."
"My name isn't bug," she says exasperatedly, as if you're the silliest idiot she's ever come across. "It's Sarah remember?"
"I remember," you say good-naturedly as you begin to put the toys she'd brought out back in the big toy basket. "It's just what my mom calls me sometimes. Just slipped out, sorry."
Sarah looks at you for a long while, her tiny face thoughtful. After a beat she helps you load the basket of toys back up. When you're finished she looks over at you seriously, her large eyes unblinking up at you. 
"You can call me bug if you want."
You nod before standing, holding a hand out to her. 
"Time to brush those teeth," you say cheerfully as if brushing one's teeth is one of the world's most exciting pastimes. 
"I already did," Sarah says looking at the Pokémon cards still in her hands. She's not paying attention to you. 
"Sure," you say with an eye roll. "Well I'm glad you did otherwise the sugar monsters would never leave you alone."
Sarah pauses, sharply darting her eyes to yours as the cards are dropped into the toy basket. "Sugar monsters?"
"Oh yeah," you say casually. "They eat the tongues of children who don't brush their teeth. I guess because of the sugar." 
You pretend to busy yourself folding a nearby blanket. But you can hear the wheels turning in her young head.
"You're lying," Sarah finally says with a conviction that belies the terror clearly shown in her face. 
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," you shrug with a voice full of sunshine. "But you don't have to worry about that, Sarah. You said you brushed your teeth, right?"
Sarah looks conflicted as you head towards the stairs. After a moment of deep contemplation she comes to a solution. 
"I'll brush them again just in case."
"Good idea."
You smile guiding her upstairs even though you have no idea where the bathroom or even her bedroom is. She’s chatting to you, distracting you so that when you push open the first door on your left, you’re surprised to find out it's Joel's bedroom. You know this immediately because this feels like Joel. 
Grey walls with navy wainscotting halfway up surround a very neat but very plain bedroom. One large window with closed blinds overlooks an old dresser with a half opened bottom drawer. A white t-shirt is half-hung over it.
The bed itself is plain and made with tan sheets under a navy coverlet and two off white pillows. A white fan stands in the corner whirring the late heat gently. There are no pictures on the walls aside from a framed photo of a horse above the bed.
Jesus, why must men above a certain age put horses on everything?
You think this as your eyes catch sight of the lotion bottle on the nightstand beside the bed. It doesn’t strike you as strange at first, but it's the unopened box of Kleenex next to it that sends you backing out of the room at a quick pace almost knocking Sarah over. 
"Oops."
Sarah is laughing at your horrified reaction, pulling your hand to the bathroom. 
It's clearly hers because it's decorated with a purple bath mat and she's got a small sparkly purple toothbrush beside bubblegum flavored toothpaste. She even has a purple spotted stool to stand on so she can reach the sink. 
You watch her brush her teeth thoroughly, pausing only to ask you if sugar monsters like bubblegum flavored toothpaste (you assure her they do not). 
Then she leads you to her bedroom, pressing the door open with both hands as you enter behind her. 
Her bed with its ceiling gripped canopy is a light lavender color. The walls are a pale lilac. Her sheets are purple with little white roses all over them. The dresser on the far side is a light eggplant and the fuzzy chair in the corner next to the bookshelf is a mix of purple shades. 
"I have never seen so much purple in all my life," you say in awe. 
"It's my favorite color."
She pulls herself onto her bed with a grunt, making sure that toad is propped up next to her before slipping under the covers.
"Daddy always reads me a book before bed."
You have no way of knowing if this is true but the sun hasn't quite set in the window and you feel like you can still hear some of the older kids outside having fun. You remember how torturous that felt when you were a kid. 
"Which one?"
"Curious George."
You go to her little bookshelf and bring out one of the slim yellow books. You smile at her as you shuffle back, going to sit at the bottom of her bed to read when she sits up.
"You lay here," Sarah informs you pointing to the pillow next to her.
Bossy little thing.
You do as she instructs before opening the book to read. You make sure that she can see all the pictures and you tell the story of how curious George got his own bike. 
Sarah interrupts you only once to tell you that she herself has a purple bicycle and you respond with what you feel is an appropriate level of enthusiasm. Other than that she lays next to you quietly looking at the pictures, and twisting a tendril of your hair absently through her fingers. 
"You do good voices," Sarah tells you when you finish the book. You know that it's the truth because children could care less when it comes to protecting someone's feelings. 
"Thanks, you're a good audience."
You bring the sheets to her chin and smile down at her. On impulse you give her forehead a tiny peck and she grins up at you. 
"Night, bug."
"G'night." 
You turn on her little star nightlight before you go, shutting the door quietly behind you. 
You walk back to the den and pop on the TV. It's only eight, who knows when Joel will be back. You're not really too put out - this evening turned out much better than you expected. Sarah is so sweet and funny, plus seeing Joel with her makes interacting with him a little more bearable. 
He's still not your favorite person by any stretch of the imagination, but it is easier to think of seeing him in the future at events hosted by Maria and Tommy. 
A buzz comes from your hip and you flip open your phone reading the text that's just come through.
i really think u and I need 2 c each other
With a frown you shove your phone back into your pocket. 
You plop onto the sofa and turn on the TV. Friends is playing but even as you watch your focus drifts to the room around you and lands on those hanging guitars from before. 
You think of the song that you used to sing in another life, in front of a cheering crowd as you bring down the nearest guitar (a Taylor 314ce if you’re not mistaken) tugging the strap over your shoulder. You strum absently before starting to sing softly. 
"We're talking away. I don't knowwwwhat I'm to sayyyawwshit," you fumble the chords but get back in tune. "I'll say it anyway. Today is another day to find -"
You pause when you think you hear the sound of creaking wood. A few moments of silence pass and you pull off the guitar and set it on the sofa. You creep silently to the bottom of the stairs expecting to catch Sarah trying to sneak down but, no, nothing is there. It's just the sound of the house settling. 
You give yourself an internal shake before heading into the kitchen. You dig around in the Wal-Mart bag you brought and pour one of your coke cans into a mug with ice. You pull out the coloring book and crayons you bought. You forgot to tell Sarah about them earlier. You decide to just leave them there on the counter as a gift for her to wake up to tomorrow. 
You open the book cover open and with a crayon you write a simple message:
To Sarah,
Make the world a little more colorful.
Love Toad
Still sipping your coke you go back to the den, wandering around the space slowly. In the quiet of the night you have time to look around in more detail. There is a large painting of a deer in a beautiful landscape by the back door (men and animals, Christ) and you come upon several framed photos hung on the walls. 
One of them is Joel holding Sarah when she was just a baby. Another one of Tommy and Sarah on the Ferris wheel waving to the photographer (undoubtedly Joel). There aren't really any recent ones though and not one of any woman who could be Sarah's mother.
This seems so strange to you. You've known plenty of divorced people that still co-parent. But you barely know Joel and can't ask him why his situation is so different. Maybe if you were to ask Maria... But then again that would mean you had actual interest in Joel's personal life and that was pushing it. As soon as you left this house you would go back to your mutual ambivalence.
You pause when you hear the sound of Joel's truck pulling up into the driveway, a low rumble out the front door. A glance at your watch tells you it's only ten, and you hope everything went well for him. If it did that means Tommy will get to continue to spoil Maria. 
Joel walks in a few minutes later. His hair is dry now and you can see the curls wave slightly when he enters the kitchen. You approach him slowly, watching as he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the back of a nearby chair.
"How did the bid go?"
"Won't know until Tuesday but felt pretty good," Joel acknowledges. "Kathleen's tough to read sometimes. How was Sarah? She give you any trouble?"
"Nah, she was great actually," you admit with a grin. "She's a cool kid."
Joel raises his brows at this and you wonder if telling a parent their kid is cool is weird. For the second time this month you're wishing you knew more about kids. 
"She brush her teeth?"
"Yep."
"Good. She's always fighting me on it."
You see Joel reach for his wallet and cringe. You’d forgotten about this part of the evening and for some reason being paid by him feels embarrassing. You’re not a teenager doing this for shopping money. This is just a favor.
"I'm gonna head out."
"I'm paying you for your time," Joel insists, his brows furrowing. "You did me a favor."
"Not really," you reason as you bring your purse over your shoulder. "It was Maria I was doing the favor for. If I didn't, she and Tommy couldn't have gone away."
Joel falters and you hope he didn't take what you said the wrong way. It makes you think of the first time you met, how a simple miscommunication fucked everything from the start.
Maybe it's time to just get everything out in the open.
"Hey, the first night we met," you begin but see Joel's eyes go to the den and harden. Your gaze follows suit and you see the guitar sitting on the sofa. 
"Oh shit, I forgot to put it b-"
"You played it?" Joel demands. His tone leads you to believe that no worse thing could happen to an instrument than being played.
"Uh, yeah," you say pausing a moment. "It was covered in dust so I figured it doesn't get played much."
"You always go to people's houses and touch their shit without permission?"
Woah. Where did that come from?
Weren't you just about to lower your proverbial weapons?
Joel is suddenly fuming and you find yourself own anger spiking in response. 
"Nope, only when I'm doing them favors."
"Thought it wasn't a favor for me?" Joel snarks. 
Fuck this. 
You pull on your purse and leave without another word. 
/// /// /// /// ///
It's Sunday afternoon. You are at James' apartment in the trendy part of Austin working on the sanctuary proposal. 
At least that's what you said you were going to do. 
He currently has you bent over his kitchen counter with your jeans and panties around your ankles as he fucks you hard from behind.
"You feel so fucking good," James pants over you, his face contorted in pleasure. He thrusts into you from behind, one hand gently placed at the small of your back. "Taking my cock so well,"
He continues to groan above you as you hold in an eye roll, your cheek rasping against the cool marble counter. Dirty talk doesn't sound right coming from James. 
Aside from that, he's really not bad at all, above average in size and he has a healthy respect for foreplay. It's just your mind is elsewhere and you can't really find it in yourself to surrender to the pleasure. 
He grunts lowly in his throat, his hips slamming into your ass with vulgar slapping noises. You try to get into it, but after what feels like an eternity you glance over your shoulder between thrusts and just tell him to finish. 
"You're distracted," James observes a short while later after you've both washed up. He gives a long sniff, looking at you anxiously. 
"Yeah," you nod, sitting across from him at his table. You've got your notes in front of you, along with some amateur blueprints you've come up with. "Lots of pent up energy."
"Normally sex helps with that," James says looking nervous, like it's his fault you didn't come. It's really not, but considering this was your first attempt at a casual hookup you can see why he may be a bit anxious. 
"Just a lot on the go," you explain. "Nothing to do with you."
"Is it the grant?"
"Partly," you nod. "I'm pretty pissed off about it. I know that we did what we needed to do, but that doesn't mean I'm happy that the kennels are yet again delayed."
James looks at you nodding. "Wish I could help."
"You did all you could," you relent. "Without you we never wouldn't have gotten money to get the office fixed and apparently it was in critical condition."
"Still, I'm sorry about the kennels."
"Yeah, me too," you admit before going back to the blueprints.
It’s probably not fair but you blame Joel for it. You’re convinced if he hadn’t come in and shoved his big nose into things that weren’t his business you would have your kennels. Then again maybe you’re still just pissed off about last night.
The two of you work quietly across from one another until James pipes up again. 
"Do you think we should try more than just sex?"
You narrow your eyes at him. "I'm not interested in, like, role-playing stuff if that's what you're suggesting."
James gives an embarrassed laugh. "No. I meant maybe we should try doing other things like, I dunno, going to the movies or something?"
Going to the movies?
You weren't expecting this from James. You'd thought this casual sex thing was a good idea and could work quite nicely for the both of you. After Paul you'd just wanted a physical release without the emotion. James had been such a nice, easy choice. 
Up until now, that is. 
"Not really," you say before pausing, considering the bluntness of your reply and the knowledge that you have to work with this man seated across from you. "Unless, you were thinking we should?"
"I mean, I think it'd be nice," James says with a shrug of his shoulders. 
You take a moment to look at him objectively. When you'd first started working with one another a few years ago you remember thinking he was decent looking. He'd dropped numerous hints but you'd been with Paul and weren't a cheater, so the attraction had never been something you focused on. 
Now though, with his light eyes and sandy brown hair normally hidden under a green cap you can admit he's cute. He's tall and lithe and dresses like a retired pastor, but bad fashion isn't a deal breaker for you. 
"Okay. Sure."
He looks impossibly relieved. 
"How about Saturday? There's that new zombie flick showing at seven."
"Sounds great"
/// /// /// /// /// ///
"Tommy better get here soon. I refuse to be disqualified because your boyfriend has poor time management skills."
Maria and you are sitting in a booth in the back of the Tipsy Bison. It's a busy night with trivia and wings being the big selling point. You and Maria love both. Maria has just finished telling you all about her weekend away ("I'm so into him. I think I love him!") And is now into her second helping of wings. 
"He still has ten minutes," Maria defends, looking at her wristwatch before biting into another piece of lemon pepper chicken. 
Tommy has been joining you at your trivia nights every so often and you don't actually mind at all. He fits in with your humor and he's great at the sports categories. 
"We wanted to try that new tapas place next weekend. You wanna come?"
"Can't. Got a date."
Maria drops the wing bone onto her plate with a dramatic flair that feels completely unnecessary. 
"Excuse me? Since when?"
"Since James asked me," you reply, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. You put all your attention on your Cajun wing, hoping that your refusal to meet her eyes will get you off the hook.  
"No way!" Maria is smiling widely. "James the accountant?" 
"He does some of our finances if that's what you mean," you pause to take the quiz paper and golf pencil from the waitress. "Thanks."
"Have you slept together?"
Maria is staring at you and you write the name of your team at the top of the paper, pretending you didn't hear her. But the flush is back to your cheeks.
"I knew it!" Maria crows victoriously. She slaps the table loudly. "That's why you were in such a good mood on Sunday! I remember thinking 'no one is that excited to work on a weekend'."
"Well, good job detective," you say drolly. "Hopefully you can use those same skills for trivia tonight because I refuse to lose to those bitches again."
You glare over at the booth across from you at the group of silver-hairs that attend every trivia night like it's their job since retirement. They all wear oversized matching blue t-shirts with "Merryatrics" emblazoned on the front. 
Myrtle, the leader of the group lowers her pint and slants a sneer at you that you emphatically return. 
"We are not losing to Myrtle again," Maria swears. She's about to say something more when she smiles over your shoulder.
"Hey baby!"
Tommy saunters over, pressing a light kiss to her lips. You're about to greet him with a wave when another figure strides into your field of vision.
You've gotta be fucking kidding me.
"Sarah's at a play date tonight so I dragged this guy out to join the team," Tommy says shaking off his jacket and taking a seat next to Maria. “Figured another person can only help.”
"You're soaked!" Maria clucks her tongue, sliding her arms around Tommy's middle. 
"It's pissing down rain tonight," Tommy says with a nervous look out the window before pulling Maria closer to him. "Guess you'll have to warm me up, huh?"
You roll your eyes watching as Joel begins shrugging off his own jacket and hanging it off the hook at the end of the booth. He too is damp from the storm outside. 
You go to say something cutting about not needing Joel to slow your team down but you can feel Maria's eyes on you. 
Remember your promise. Remember the deal you made with Joel.
"Hey," he rasps glancing over at you with a wary look. "Hope you don't mind me joining."
"Not at all," Maria answers for you. "Come sit, it's about to start."
There's only the space next to you in the booth, so you squeeze closer to Maria as Joel slides in next to you. His thigh grazes yours before he orders a bottle of Lonestar for himself and Tommy. 
"Storms pretty bad," Joel offers the table. "Heard it might get worse this week."
"Power outage might be just what we need," you say with a laugh. 
"Yeah maybe that way we'll beat the Merryatrics," Maria frowns. "Sick of losing to them."
“Bitches.”
You think you can see Joel smirking at that. You shift to look at him out the corner of your eyes. Up so close to him you can see the patch on his chin where his beard doesn't quite touch, the lines between his brows and how dark his eyes are. 
He's wearing a dark red flannel over a black t-shirt. You're surprised to find he smells pretty good considering he came from the job site and it’s raining like hell outside.  He smells like wood shavings and laundry detergent. 
"How did babysitting go?" Tommy asks you from the other end of the booth, his arm slung over Maria's shoulder as she leans into him. "We appreciate it by the way."
"Was no problem," you answer him honestly. "Sarah's a cool kid. Funny."
"Well she sure can't stop talking about you," Tommy says taking his bottle from the waitress. "When I saw her this morning she was working on some coloring page I was supposed to give to you. I left it in the truck."
"That's so sweet!" Maria gushes, her hand on her heart. She looks at you with gratitude and you hope that this interaction is enough to make up for being so hostile with Joel in the past.  
"I'm sure you're exaggerating," you say shyly twisting the straw in your new water glass. "We just played some games and I read her a story."
"It's true," Joel rasps from beside you, surprising you. "Sarah can't stop talking about how much fun she had with you. And she's, uh, been asking when you're coming back."
He clears his throat as you glance over at him. It seems you really did make quite an impression on Sarah. 
"Really?"
Joel nods over at you. His eyes dart along your face and he looks about to say something when a loud voice breaks over your group.
"Whose ready to do some sick triviaaaaaaaa?"
The four of you glance over at the host, a man in his twenties named Tyler who loves trivia more than he loves baggy jeans (and judging by the fact that you can see his boxers very clearly, he really loves baggy jeans). He makes sure every team has an answer sheet and pencil before he starts.
“First question we have today is about sports!” Tyler shouts over the growing crowd. What type of golf clubs are used for long shots from the tee or fairway?”
The Merryatrics begin writing hurriedly on their answer sheet as you and Maria exchange a look of disappointment. This is not a category either of you know much on. In desperation you decide to use your additional manpower.
"How much do you know about golf clubs, Joel?"
"Not much."
Great.
Thankfully it turns out that Tommy knows plenty when it comes to the category. You and Maria know most when it comes to the Math, Science and pop culture category. Joel has a strangely gifted knowledge of literature. And by the time the halfway scores are tallied you and the Merryatrics are tied for first place. 
At the break you and Maria order more wings and the boys order burgers for themselves. Maria and Tommy chat quietly with one another, her head leaning on his shoulder sweetly. You notice she and Tommy have drunk far more than you and Joel.
You pick at your last Cajun wing, feeling strangely left out. You've never felt left out when with Tommy and Maria before. You muse it must be because Joel is here, and they think he is keeping you company. 
Joel must be feeling similarly to you because he looks awkwardly around the bar, tipping the last of his first beer into his mouth. Out of the corner of your eyes you watch his lean neck bob as he swallows.
The music is soft in the back of the pub, lively and makes the mood between the two of you feel less tense despite the animosity you're still feeling towards him. As if he can feel your mind drifting to Saturday night Joel has shifted to turn his body more to face you in the booth.
"Sarah really did enjoy when you were over," Joel says in a rush, as if this conversation is hard for him. "She wanted me to ask you to come babysit her again. If you have time. And I'll pay you of course. I do insist on that, 'cuz it's a job and your time is worth something." 
Memories of how your last babysitting job ended with Joel don't exactly kindle interest in this proposition. You thin your lips, turning the chicken wing over in your fingers as you contemplate before dropping it next to a half eaten piece of celery. 
"And you can play all the guitars in the house that you want," Joel adds exhaling slowly, his focus fixed on you. "I'll even throw in a bongo drum if that'll seal the deal."
You know how much this must hurt him, having to ask you of all people for a favor. It's a testament to how much he loves his daughter and that's the only reason you don't make it more difficult for him. 
"I was under the impression that babysitting Sarah was kind of Tommy's thing," you say, wiping your finger tips with the damp napkins provided. "I wouldn't want to intrude on that."
Joel motions to Tommy and Maria giggling to themselves at the end of the booth.
"If I'm honest, I think Tommy'll be even more excited to have you babysit than Sarah. It’ll free up more of his time." 
The waitress arrives back with the burgers, placing them in front of the boys. You're thankful for the break. You need to think about this. Yes, you really enjoyed hanging with Sarah but more Joel time isn't exactly worth it.
"Do you and your girlfriend want more?" the waitress asks looking at Joel and motioning to the plate of half eaten wings in front of you. You go to assure the waitress that Joel Miller is not and never will be your boyfriend, but he’s already talking, distracted by your previous conversation.
"You want more?" Joel asks your surprised face. You shake your head and he turns back handing the bone-filled plate to the waitress. "Nah, thanks sweetheart."
The waitress takes it, smiling prettily at Joel before quickly moving from the table. You expect that Joel will be following her form sashaying away, but he’s distracted, looking at you waiting for your answer. 
Thankfully you're rescued from answering his questioning look by Tyler who comes back with an air horn he beeps as he gets to the front of the room. 
"Y'all ready for round two?!"
By the time you reach the final question Maria and Tommy are giggling drunken idiots and you and Joel are hunched over the beer stained answer sheet, focused intently on the young man with oversized pants at the front of the pub reading off his card. 
"And for the final question of the final round," Tyler drawls dramatically. "This planet has the tallest mountain in the solar system.”
Fuck. Space has never really been your thing outside of the odd horoscope you read in the paper.
“And just to keep it interesting,” Tyler calls from the front. “An extra point goes to the team who can name this tallest mountain. You have one minute." 
A hushed 'ooooo' goes through the pub at this. You turn your attention to the answer sheet, Maria's hand is gripping the gold pencil so tightly you're worried she might break it.
"Jupiter?" Maria offers through her drunken haze. "That's the one with rings right? It should have mountains."
"What kind of logic is that?"
"What about Uranus?" Tommy suggests with a short laugh that Maria grins at.  
"Tommy this is serious and you're drunk," you tell him pointedly. Joel is quiet behind you, rubbing at his forehead with his eyes closed. He's probably just willing the game to end soon. You still haven’t given him an answer about Sarah and you have a feeling he’s just holding out for it.
Myrtle and her band of Merryatrics are writing and then looking over at you with smug smiles. It creates a blind panic in you that makes your mind draw a blank.
“Earth," you suggest inspired as the seconds tick by. "It's a trick, gotta be. Mount Everest." 
Maria nods in agreement, and you watch her write down a sloppy "Earth/Mount Everest" on the sheet before a large hand stills your wrist. Joel chest presses into your shoulder as he moves in and drops his voice. 
"It's Mars. Olympus Mons."
You look at Joel over your shoulder with a wrinkled nose. "What? How do you know that?"
"Sarah's really into space right now," Joel explains with a shy shrug. "She made me get her a bunch of books from the library. We were just reading one last week and it had this Olympus Mons on it, I’m positive."
You and Maria exchange a look. This answer determines whether or not you beat the seniors team. Myrtle and her team are chatting anxiously with one another. You give one last glance at Joel over your shoulder.
"Trust me."
You consider his words before turning back to Maria who had insisted on writing the answer despite her writing growing increasingly sloppy with each question. You take the pencil from her hand despite her protestations because you can't take a chance at fucking this up.
"Let's do it," you urge. "Mars. Olympus Mons." 
You finish just as the final cow bell tolls. The papers are collected and brought to Tyler who says he will be reading out the winners shortly.  The four of you are all sitting shoulder to shoulder, watching Tyler tally the scores from all the cards, so intent you almost don't hear Joel next to you. 
"Fuck, now I'm not sure if was Mars. Maybe it was Jupiter."
You turn on him with wide eyes and a scowl. "Are you serious?"
"Nah," he says taking a sip from his water glass, his eyes dancing. "Just wanted to rile you up. Seems pretty easy to do."
You want to be irritated at that but instead you laugh in both relief and surprise. "Is it a crime to want to win? To be . . . "
You break off as you search for a word that sounds better than "terrifyingly intense in the face of trivia". 
"Passionate?" Joel offers with a quirked brow. 
"Exactly," you nod vigorously. "I'm just very passionate."
You smile at one another and you swear for a moment it almost looks like Joel checks you out. His eyes are darting around your face and trying to subtly dart to your collar without being obvious. You feel your cheeks get hot at the thought. 
Tyler breaks into this moment with his long, squeaky voice. 
"And the winners are... the Quizards of Oz!”
You've won. 
After 7 months of trying to knock those geriatric fucks out of the trivia top spot, you’ve done it.
"YES!" 
Maria whirls into Tommy's arms, pumping her fist in the air with a shriek. You are equally enthused, half standing in the booth and giving a loud roar of victory before pointing at Myrtle and the rest of the seniors who give you baleful looks. 
"BEAT YOU! YES! TAKE THAT YOU HAGS!" 
Joel is staring up at you half crouched in the booth pointing aggressively at a group of angry looking seniors before his eyes go over to see Tommy and Maria making out passionately.  
You drop back into your seat, your face flushed. Joel looks incredulously from the angry senior citizens group back over to you pink and giggling. 
"Do I want to know what has you brutal enemies with a group of eighty-year-old women?"
"They know what they did," you say giving the group of glaring old women a sneer. 
The waitress comes over with your bills after this. You all pay and the waitress pulls out an envelope from her apron pocket. 
"Congrats y'all," she says handing you the envelope. "Didn't think we'd ever see the Merryatrics lose!"
"S'bout time!" Maria slurs from beside you. 
You take the envelope with pride, tucking it into your purse and sighing back into your booth as if you just succeeded in being accepted into the hall of fame.
You notice the waitress push something across the table to Joel, it looks like it is another receipt but you recognize looping handwriting with a name and what you can only assume is her phone number.  You notice the tips of Joel's ear pinking as he notices it, but he turns his attention over to you, amused at your blissed-out reaction to winning.
"What's the prize?" 
"A ten dollar gift certificate here."
"That's it?" Joel laughs - actually laughs - at this. "All that work for a ten bucks to a pub with barely passable food?"
"It's the principle!" you snicker back, tickled at his reaction.
Joel smiles at you, but this is a new one. This smile you've not had directed at you before. It makes his eyes crinkle until they almost disappear, his teeth shining and the dimple in his right cheek deepens. 
"And winning has put me in such a good mood that I'm gonna agree to babysit for you, Miller."
"Really?" 
"Yeah," you say beaming. You're still high on the victory. Maria leans over in your direction. 
"Great," Joel smiles at you. "Sarah's gonna be -"
"What are you two whispering about?" Maria interrupts with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. She's tipsy and trying to hold in a giggle. "Whisper whisper."
"Babysitting and we're not whispering you fool," you reply, amused at her drunkenness. You dart a look back over at Joel to see that he's holding back a laugh. 
"Ooooh," Maria looks over at Tommy. "She's gonna babysit for Joel!"
"I knew it!" Tommy replies equally drunk. "When?"
"Oh yeah, when?" You turn your attention back to Joel. 
"Saturday?"
"Sure -" you answer without thinking. But Maria has been listening and moves a hand by your face, waving emphatically.
"Nah, can't be Saturday," she informs Joel with glazed eyes. "She has a date that night with James."
"The co-worker?" Tommy slurs behind her.
"Yeah and she hasn't dated anyone since Paul so she's gotta go and have proper sex with him." 
"Maria!" You say with a horrified look. You don't need Joel and Tommy Miller of all people knowing the details of your pitiful sex life. 
Maria throws a dramatic hand over her mouth and a smirking Tommy points at her as if she's been caught doing something terrible. "I'm sorry!" 
Joel has pulled himself from the booth and is glancing down at you as he pulls on his jacket. You give a shake of your head as if to say "what're we gonna do with these two knuckleheads?' He glances over at his brother leaning a sleepy head on an equally sleepy Maria's shoulder. 
"Guess we're the DD's tonight," you sigh as you pull yourself out of the booth. "Yet another reason to stay irresponsible."
He gives a smile that doesn't touch his eyes in return at the joke. You watch his attention dart back to the waitresses' phone number sitting there on the table, looking indecisive. He clears his throat awkwardly before quickly snatching it up and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans.
"C'mon Tommy," Joel says pulling his brother to a stand with a grunt. You do the same with Maria. 
You watch as the Millers make their way out the door of the pub, wondering how you just spent an entire evening with Joel Miller and didn't hate it. 
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luveline · 10 months
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hi! i know ur not from the us so pls feel free to ignore this but i think a kbd fic where steve and the girls are doing sparklers for the fourth of july would be so cute! absolutely adore everything u post 🫶🏻
thank u!! sorry i know it isn't the fourth anymore bit I hope u enjoy regardless!! kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader show their daughters how to use sparklers for the first time, 2k
Steve isn't a huge fan of fireworks because of how dangerous they can be, but sparklers are just fine in his book. He buys a box of thirty. The girls can do ten each if they feel like it, though he knows Dove won't be interested, and he guesses Bethie will be too scared to hold them. 
Still, he hopes. You're hosting a banquet of food when he arrives, a mixture of things you made and stuff he prepared yesterday. It's a feast of hotdogs and burgers, cupcakes and donuts, macaroni and cheese and chilli with white rice. The table is crammed with plates and the radio is on, playing fun pop music a little too loudly for Dove's taste, her hands over her ears.
You turn down the radio, and ask her where she sits on your hip, "Is that better, sweetheart?" 
"Hey," he says, putting the box of sparklers on the counter. 
"Hey, Stevie," you say, in a rare tone. You always talk to him with love but he adores how you say his name now, like you've never been happier to see him in your entire life. "They had some?"
"Lucky, right? Guess I'm not the only schmuck who forgot to buy some." 
Avery rushes for his legs, a chocolate donut in one hand and a cup of juice in the other. Despite her luggage, she expects to be picked up. Steve grabs her. 
"You're cold, dad," she says. 
"Really? It's not cold out," he says. 
"You need something to warm you up." 
Steve raises his eyebrows. "Sure I do. Give me a hug, but don't get icing in my hair, please." 
Avery hugs him, sticky cheek pressing into his as her arms strain around him. He pats her back, meeting your eyes and returning your happy smile. Steve turns on the spot to see Bethie practically elbow deep in a bowl of chilli. She loves anything that comes with rice, and she eats it like someone's going to take it away from her, chilli staining her lips and cheeks, a grain of rice stuck to her chin.
"Did you get a photo of that?" he asks. 
"Of course I did," you laugh, putting Dove down to brace yourself against the counter. You stretch your neck in a tight circle. 
"Thank you. Beth, that looks so nice! Are you saving any for me?" 
"No!" she says happily, smiling wide as an ocean. 
"Good girl. Alright, you tell me when you're finished, I have something fun for after dinner." 
Dinner gets put on pause. You wipe Bethie's face clean, giggling the whole time and telling her how cute she is in your saccharine mommy voice that melts her, "We should have that more often, huh?" It's always a good day when Bethie eats well.
Steve helps Avery put her shoes on and together they step out into the backyard. It's small considering the house is a four bedroom, but maybe that's why you'd been able to afford it in the first place. You work with what space you have. There's a light wood fence, the perimeter half lined by pansies and the other side with a slim shed full of their bikes and scooters and a small bed where the girls attempted to grow strawberries last year. They didn't take, but Steve has hope for this summer. 
The yard is clean though slightly neglected, and Steve has to work spider duty before Avery will agree to step off of the doorjam. You follow soon, Dove at your shins, Bethie cautious as she steps out in her socks behind you.
"Where's your shoes?" Steve asks her. 
"I told her she didn't have to wear them," you say. "She says they're pinching her toes." 
Steve had Beth's feet measured specifically to avoid that. He assumes it isn't pinching so much as not wanting to wear them. He shrugs. "Okay. Stay on the stones then, Beth, I don't know what's in the grass. You might step on a snail." 
"Ew," she says, sitting down in the doorway.
Steve lights a sparkler for no one first of all, wondering how each girl will react. He hands it to you as the sparks jump to life, white and bright in the shade of the garden, the shadow of their house. You wave it around gently, but when each of your daughters gasps in unhappy shock, you hold your hand under the sparkler and let a spark kiss your palm. 
"They aren't dangerous," you promise. You wave it into a heart, a star, the letter A. "Does anyone wanna try?" 
"Me!" Avery shouts, holding out her hand. The sparkler burns remarkably quickly down to the stem.
"Dad will give you a new one. Hey, baby?" you put the sparkler down on the glass patio table as it sputters out. "Don't you have those gardening gloves?" 
Soon, Steve's outfitted each girl in a glove too big for their hand. He passes Avery a sparkler, and her bravery and subsequent joy prompts some jealousy in Bethie, fighting her fear to take one too. You crouch down to stand with her as she waves it around, her eyes like saucers as white sparks fly. 
"It's so pretty!" you say. 
Dove is interested, but not in holding one. Steve picks her up and lights a sparkler, raising it away from her curious hands to draw her name. Avery squeaks with happiness and proclaims it as magic. "Dad, I'm a fairy!" 
"I can see! Try not to put it by your hair, okay?" 
She squeals some more until it dies in her hand. "Can I have another one?" 
"Ooh," you coo, watching with pride as Bethie draws a circle with hers, "my girl's brave today, I'm super proud of you. Isn't this fun?"
Steve lights another one for Avery and gives Dove a loving kiss, thrilled to see them all this happy. He's really surprised Bethie's enjoying herself, but he supposes it would be hard for her to have a bad time with your hands on her shoulders, your encouragement soft and shining as angora silk. 
They must use up four or five each like that. 
"Daddy," Dove says, imploring as she touches his face. 
"What?" he asks, thinking of tacking 'my little princess' on the end but withholding. Lately every sentence he says has a pet name squeezed in the middle. He has a lot of love to give. 
She looks at him. He pats her small back, wondering if she's going to bless him with a sentence or two. She's old enough now to be talking, but she's quiet like Bethie most of the time. Or, she's not talkative —Dove is far from quiet. 
"Hotdog, please."
Steve laughs loudly. "You want me to make you a hotdog?" 
"And ketchup." 
"Yeah, I can make you a hotdog. You don't want to stay for another sparkler?" he asks. 
"No." 
He laughs again, pressing another kiss overtop the first one he'd laid on her chubby cheek. "Thank you for saying please, sweetheart. You're such a good girl." 
"Can I have a hotdog, too?" Avery asks.
"Sure you can, whatever you want. Beth? Mom?" 
You've sat down on the floor. You're probably cold, but your smile would never show it. "I think me and Bethie are going to have another helping of chilli and rice, aren't we?" you ask hopefully. 
Bethie's sparkler fizzles out. "Can we do more sparklers again?" 
"Yeah. Tell you what, let's go back inside for food and when everyone's full, we'll come outside and do some more before bed. Sound good?" 
The girls head inside, and Steve makes some hotdogs on the stove. Dove falls asleep with a bun in her hand, Bethie with her cheeks painted in sauce. Avery doesn't tire so easily, and while the others sleep, you and Steve take her out to the back door to light another sparkler. You write your names, you draw clumsy constellations. Steve writes 'I love
Avery,' grinning as she sounds out each letter. 
Avery relishes in the delight of having your unfettered attention. She stays up for hours after her sisters with you and Steve, long enough to watch stray fireworks shoot up into the sky over your backyard, her head on your shoulder, her hand in Steve's hand. 
"This is the best day ever," she says. 
Steve wants to cry. Genuinely. He meets your eyes over Avery's head, and you shuffle closer to her without speaking, enveloping her in a hug from either side. 
"Every day is the best day ever with you around, Ave," Steve says. 
"The best. Me and dad tried some fireworks, when you weren't born." Steve and Avery look at you with mirrored interest. He doesn't remember what story you're going to tell. "You would've been very small in me at the time," you say, looking up as a pink and white firework blossoms across the night sky like a peony. "Like a strawberry seed. We… didn't know you were coming. I knew. I knew, but I didn't know. I could feel you right here," —you point at your stomach— "but I had no idea what you were going to be." 
"Hey, you're right," Steve says. He forgets you were pregnant before you knew it. 
"But me and dad lived together already," you say. "We were always going to get married and have babies and stuff, but you came really quickly. You were excited." 
Steve grins. Avery hangs on your every word. 
"But anyway, me and dad lived together. Not here, but somewhere, and we didn't have a yard but there was a little patch of grass and we figured we'd buy some, but he burned a stripe of my arm hair off by accident with a long lighter, and the we didn't have a fence to nail the Catherine wheel down, and he accidentally dropped the firecracker box on the way home so it didn't work anymore, and the rockets wouldn't light." 
"Oh, no," Avery says. "You didn't have any fireworks?" 
"None. But we had a pack of sparklers. We did it just like we did with you. I wrote 'I love Stevie' in big letters, and your dad tried to hug me and jabbed me in the stomach with his burned up one." 
"Your hoodie," Steve remembers finally. "Your white hoodie, I bought it for you the week before at the mall after you threw up in Dairy Queen. I remember." 
"I had it for a week, and he got this huge ash smudge on it." 
"But you wouldn't let me wash it with bleach." 
You give Avery a kiss on the top of her head. "I wanted to remember how happy we were. I thought the smudge was a nice reminder. Turns out I got much more than a smudge." 
"You got me," Avery decodes.
"We got you," you say. "You're a thousand different things, Avery. You're smart, and kind, and pretty, and you're also a really good reminder that your dad loves me." 
"Do you need a reminder?" Steve asks, genuinely worried, and kind of in awe. How you can sit there and say something that romantic off the cuff is beyond him. He really might cry soon. 
"No," you say smugly. "You tell me all the time." 
Not enough, he decides. After this, he'll be sure to tell you more. 
Steve falls in love with you for the thousandth time.
"What I'm trying to tell you, Ave, is that dad is right. Every day with you in it is a really good day. I love you so much," you start to fizzle, which is to say your voice gets tight. You won't cry, but Steve teeters. "I'm really, really happy you had the best day ever, 'cos you make every day the best for dad and your sisters and me." 
"Really?" Avery asks softly. 
"Really," Steve says, rubbing the space between her shoulders. 
A rocket squeals into the air and fractures into a ring of spectral colours. 
Avery climbs onto her feet, and, torn between who to hug, wraps an arm around both of your necks. 
Steve wraps his arms around you both, squeezing your hip. He's gotten used to being loved, to feeling it, but tonight might be an all time high. Sparklers become a Harrington tradition that year. 
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