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#something about a girl being loved for everything she is will always make me cry

blueroyalgirl · 3 days

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5yearsofRWRB

👔 chapter 4 🎉

Please be so serious, Alexander 😳 *personal* SENSUAL? Have we asked ourselves what the actual fuck as of late?!

Half naked selfies from bed, and a little autoerotic asphyxiation. Jesus christ on a bloody bicycle! 😫

This feels so child-like 🥺 But he’s talking about hiding away from a whole world’s scrutinisation. And soothing himself between huge responsibilities that he doesn’t even really want to do. The way he says ‘Alex’ at the end is so pleading with exhalation.

Absolutely despicable behaviour! Not only is it super shitty to make Alex feel like he’s less than in those moments but each parent is saying, “you are your father’s son” in this moment, not mine, and vice versa.

They have both abandoned him throughout his life. Oscar abandoned him without notice when he was a teenager and now the way Alex operates in life is informed by that abandonment, showing up in his relationships or lack thereof (and they suffer because of his fears, understandably). His mother abandons him when she puts on her president mask, and she has to put the world before him. And again when she exploits his dreams for her campaign and calls him Diaz when she’s pissed off.

The perfect amount for someone. That kind of stillness. Being able to just breathe around someone effortlessly and not mask, or try, try, try because you’re just… good enough. Henry listened to Alex and somehow inferred his needs, and found the right words.

I really liked this insight into how each of them see their parents, how aware of everything they are, and the biases they have.

June seems closer to Oscar and feels sidelined/let down by Ellen. She also can see much clearer when their mom exploits them, and pushes too much. Alex still feels hurt, and abandoned by his dad (rightly so), but would also just love for things to go back to normal (sans fighting). 🥺

His mom’s the president and it seems like he believes she did the best she could for the most part, knowing she had to sacrifice to get to where she is (to do good in the world, something he wants to emulate). It’s also often easier to side with/feel closer with the parent that stays (even when they disappoint you) and Ellen pushes him, helps him, something he thrives on. And like he said, Oscar has a more laid-back approach.

I got to this part and was all overcome with, “I fucking love the way he speaks” like, THAT’S MY BFF HENRY?! 😍🥺💙

After sitting with the book in my mind for so long, and reading so much fanfic, and watching the movie so many times, and then coming back to the source, it’s just so comforting knowing their distinct voices now. When you read something for the first time you’re learning them filled with so much anticipation and that’s exciting, and then there’s also this feeling of: the comforting sound of familiar voices that warm you up, and make you laugh, stir the butterflies, make you cry, thrill you, and bring immense, insurmountable joy! ✨💕

Tipsy, plump lips, flushed cheeks Henry hanging onto his bottle, clinging to wherever Alex is as he dances with other people.

Alex likes to show off for Henry while he watches 😇

I washed my hands of us at the club

You made a mess of me

I pictured you with other girls in love

Then threw up on the street 😭🤮

Alex feeds/thrives on other people’s energy.

Henry drains.

I love this moment so much. It’s so telling of how Alex feels already, even though he doesn’t seem to realise it himself. They’ve already trauma bonded, they’re already friends. He’s infatuated with him and can’t wait to talk to him at all hours of the day and night. He’s enchanted by him when he sees him for the first time in person again, compelled by him almost as he puts on a show for him, their eyes always lingering on each other. And now under the moonlight, after admiring his beauty, he just… want to be there for Henry. Absorb the weight of what sits heavy on his shoulders. Make him feel… light again. ✨

Soft lips, soft curls. Nobody kisses like you. <3

*screams*

(Poor Henry, running away in the snow…)

#rwrb book #rwrb #firstprince #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry fox #rwrb chapter 4 #5yearsofRWRB #alex and henry

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allthebestnamesweretaken · 1 month

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So I know Lisa Frankenstein is about more than the romance, there’s so much to be said about Lisa’s relationships with those around her and how she was treated and how that parallels how wider society treats women, young women in particular. But the fact that the Creature loved her completely, to the point of searching for her when he “came back to life”, killing those who harmed her, using the body parts of those same people to please her, and always listening to her even though he couldn’t speak (even when it hurt him) just hits me in all the right places. The people who were supposed to love and cherish her didn’t (Taffy loved her of course) yet he did. Idk guys, seeing a girl being loved for all that she is after almost everyone else has rejected her for no reason other than she’s different just means so much to me

#lisa frankenstein #this movie means so much to me #something about a girl being loved for everything she is will always make me cry #kathryn newton #cole sprouse #I want to erase this movie from my brain and then watch it again #the creature #horror romance comedy #I love women #Women deserve to be loved for who they are

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fairy-angel222 · 27 days

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𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 જ⁀⟡

Something changed in Nanami when he got you pregnant. His protective nature coming out whenever it came to you, his wife. He was so sweet, pampering you and making sure to do everything you needed. Cleaning the house, cooking you food, going out to work, everything. He refused to let his precious sweetheart put any form of stress on herself, scolding you softly when you tried to take over the chores.

He was extremely excited for you two’s baby. Already setting up the extra bedroom for when the lil guy, or girl, was here.

But if there was one thing your husband especially loved about the pregnancy, was you. Loved to see that round stomach of yours, your breasts heavy and full with the perfect amount of firmness.

When you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Nanami was elated. Everything was great. And to make things even better for him, your breasts had gotten even fuller. After the first few weeks, you were both craving each other. Having already put your daughter to sleep when you were laying on your bed, Nanami in between your legs with his head in your neck.

Nanami had always appreciated your body in bed, squeezing and groping at your pretty pair of tits. Latching his mouth onto your nipples with a groan. Now that they were filled with milk, he appreciated them even more.

His thick cock fucking lazily into you, your fingers running through his hair as you moaned, soft whimpers falling past your lip as slow thrusts began grinding against your walls. “Kento..” you mewled, your eyes closed at how gentle Nanami was being with you.

Nanami hummed, his fingers playing with your nipples as he kissed down your neck. Eyes widening when you let out a whine, feeling your nipples letting out a light stream of liquid. Looking down to see the watery white liquid coating his skin.

“Nnh— ‘m sorry, can’t be controlled,” you moaned, watching the man simply stare before he smiled. “It’s more than okay sweetheart, been meaning to try this for a while.”

You let out a cry when your husband’s tongue swirled around your perked nipple, sucking at the sensitive bud with a groan when the warm liquid hit his tongue. His hand moving to squeeze at the other one as he gulped the sweetness.

“Kento, hmm.. oh b-baby—” you mewled, slightly surprised at how passionately he sucked at the soft flesh.

“God sweetheart— who knew this was so sweet, can live on it forever.” he breathed, his hips rolling sensually into yours as you whimpered his name, your grip on his hair tightening as you tugged at his blond strands.

Nanami’s hips rocked your body back and forth into the sheets, your stomach filled with heat at the sensation. “Kento.. so good.” His mouth moving onto your other breast as he pressed into it, once again allowing the taste to settle on his tongue. Suckling softly at the leaking bud.

Nanami grunted, his thrusts sloppy as he felt his cock twitch. “Tastes so good sweetheart, gonna have to do this more often. Whole body’s just so damn perfect.”

“Nngh, ‘m so close Kento,” your breathing speeding up and your toes curled. “So close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me sweetheart?” Lapping at the still flowing substance. Biting down softly and making you let out a cry, your back arching in a string of whiny moans as you clenched down around him.

“Love you so much, pretty mama. Love you so fucking much.” Your husband groaned, holding you tight against him as he continued to fuck into you. Your moans getting louder as your pussy gushed messily around him. “There we go, so good f’ me.”

His thrusts slow and deep before he was stilling inside you, his eyes meeting yours as his abs tensed. Spurts of his warm cum painting your insides.

You whimpered as you were filled up, your breathing steadying as the rising movements of your chest matched his. “Love you so much Kento- oh no” A heavy sigh cut you off as Nami’s high pitched cries echoed through the room. You whined, “gotta go see what she needs.”

Nanami shook his head, placing a kiss to your lips. “Get yourself cleaned up yeah? I’ll go check on our baby girl.” You smiled in response, you really couldn’t ask for a better husband.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #nanami kento x reader smut #nanami x reader smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento

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railmerosalie · 6 months

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I find it so funny when ppl say that Katniss has no personality, she's so cute and funny! Like do you not remember when she...

1. Thought Finnick was making out with Peetas corpse and was like "damn didn't know he was fruity like that"

2. When Gale confessed his love for her and she was STRIAGHT up like "yeah I know" 💀

3. Saw Peeta had been crying after the first reaping and immediately thinks "damn he's good, playing the weak sympathy card". Like girl he thinks he's gonna die! He's gonna die!

4. Katniss and Finnick wearing the green face cream in CF and scaring the fuck outta Peeta on the beach

5. Just her and Haymitch, especially the first book

6. "I decided to go ahead and like Boggs" - thanks for letting us know queen 👑

7. In MJ when they're trying to film the propos, and she's just horrible at it

8. In the first book when she's trying to drain the pus out of Peetas leg and she just so goddmaned grossed out

9. Saw the cupcakes at the Capitol party and immediately thought that Peeta would love the frosting details

10. In MJ when Gale and Peeta are talking about Katniss choosing one of them, she's just like "gonna leave you two bums here, don't need this shit"

11. Everytime she was unaware of people flirting with her or just being nice. She always think there's some hidden motive... like girl they're your family and friends, they just like you as a person

12. "Nobody needs me" "I do, I need you". Katniss finally admitting her love for Peeta and realises that she can't live without him!! It's such an important part of her growth towards Peeta and no one talks about it!! The girl how has survived everything finally needs not just something, but SOMEONE. And it's HIM (I'm so normal about this I swear)

13. Sassying buttercup at every turn

14. She has the same vibe as goop from Meet The Robinsons (especially with Madge). "Hey Katniss, wanna eat lunch together?" "Hey Katniss, wanna go for a walk into town later"

She's there like:

#thg #the hunger games #the hunger games cf #katniss my beloved #katniss everdeen #peeta supremacy #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #thg mockingjay #mockingjay #catching fire #cf #mj

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eternally-racing · 2 months

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baby steps | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2.5k

summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?

note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !

---

When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing.

The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain.

“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave.

You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.

“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening.

“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”

While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice.

“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?”

“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?”

Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.”

You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando.

“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport.

Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.

“Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.

—

The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes.

Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him.

But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both.

“Oh my god, you’re here.” Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again.

“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe”

Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now.

When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered.

“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here.

You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview.

“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin.

Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.” Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment.

“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?”

“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.”

The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.

At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.

“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd. “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.

It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits.

Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights.

“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment.

You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined.

It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you.

It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.

You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far.

“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.

“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder.

----

author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍

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eddiesxangel · 4 months

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Fool Me Once | Eddie Munson x Reader

Anonymous Asked: Eddie being your first everything and first boyfriend and reader is like kinda awkward or something. Then Eddie gets really drunk and gets home to reader and starts yelling at her saying like “You’re only dating me because you don’t want to be a sad loser virgin.” and she gets really sad because she genuinely loves him so much and she starts thinking that he doesn’t love her at all… Then maybe the day after he can’t find reader anywhere and maybe she’s like with robin just crying her eyes out.

AN: IDK IDK it’s my first angsty thing I’ve done hope it’s ok 🫣

Cw: angst, hurt no comfort. Small bitty smut. Use of pet names, one use of reference to reader as “my girl”

“I love you, god, I love you” Eddie slowly pumped his swollen cock in and out of you.

You’ve never felt this wave of pleasure before; no wonder everyone was so hyped about sex.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”

“Baby, please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but the feeling in your lower stomach was starting to build more and more and more until! Euphoria. Euphoria fuelled your body. The wave of pleasure that Eddie just granted you felt indebted to him.

“I love you,” you sigh as your body melts into your boyfriend.

You’ve been with him for almost six months and finally felt ready to give himself to him. You hadn’t slept with anyone until now, and you were so happy you waited. You never felt so close, so in love, so unbelievably happy in this moment. Life was amazing; nothing could ever break this feeling you have.

Ring ring ring

You were abruptly awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You were fast asleep, and now feeling disoriented, you looked at the clock. It was already 3:38am. You wondered who could be calling you at this late hour. Maybe it was an emergency? Your heart racing, you rushed over to the phone in a state of panic.

"Hello?"

"You little slut"

"Eddie?"

"Who else would it be? Are you expecting a booty call? another guy you want to fuck?"

"I don't understand? What's wrong."

“What's wrong? I'll tell ya what's wrong! You’re only with me, so you’re not some loser virgin, that’s what! Do you think all the guys will want you to know that your cherry is popped? Well, guess what, honey? Now you're just a sad little whore.” He slurred.

“Wha-“

“You think you’re hot shit now? Getting with the freak of Hawkins? Gonna brag about how you fucked the freak?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” your voice wobbled.

He was obviously drunk out of his mind, but as they all say, drunk words are a sober man’s thoughts.

“I know how this is going to go… well, not if I beat you to it.”

“I don't understand?”

“I don't understand?” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about!” He yelled, and you cowered. He didn’t care. His voice got louder and louder. “You were a sad loooooser virgin before me! And now you’re just a sad loser who fucked the freak,” he laughed. He actually laughed.

"Eddie-"

“So we are don-”

You hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence.

You couldn't believe this was happening? You gave Eddie everything. You thought he was your everything up until this point. You slept with Eddie for the first time a week ago. Things were good, great, even. Until he went to the hideout tonight without you.

You stayed up the rest of the night because you were in tears about what Eddie said. None of this makes any sense? You always loved Eddie, and you thought he loved you back? How could he be so cruel?

You were woken up from your daze by a knock on your apartment door. You stumbled out of your room, still in your sleep shirt, with puffy eyes from crying all night. Robin was here to pick you up for work.

"Good Mor-" Her smile dropped along with the cup of coffee she was handing you as she saw your appearance. "Oh my god! What happened?" she rushed inside to wrap her arms around you.

"Eddie. He-" You could hardly get the words out. You just crumpled into a ball on the floor and sobbed pathetically in front of Robin.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch" She let you cry into her on the floor. "Come on, you need to get out of here. Get changed. We are calling in sick, and we can return to my place."

Eddie woke up the morning after with a terrible hangover. It was already 12:35pm, and he couldn't remember how he got home. He suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea, which prompted him to hurry to the bathroom, where he vomited uncontrollably.

After the fifth shot, things in his memory become a little hazy. He was pretty hammered by then, but he still kept drinking with the boys. He vaguely remembered Jason being at the bar and making some leud comment about you, but other than that. Nothing.

He stumbled over to his answering machine to find it empty. That's weird? You always call him before your shift, and at least try to catch him on your lunch break. Today was Wednesday, right? You always work the morning shifts today.

Eddie tried calling your number, but he had no luck, so he tried calling your work, and when they said you called in sick, he got worried. So he tried your number again, and it still went to voice mail. Maybe you were sleeping? He tried calling back to see if Robin might know more. But when your annoyed coworker picked up the phone to tell him Robin also called in sick, he knew something was up.

Eddie rushed to his phone book to find Robin's number and called it. he waited for four rings until...

"Hello?"

"Hey! Rob it's Eddie, have you-"

"We are not speaking to you."

"We? Who's we?"

But it was too late. All he heard was the sound of the dial tone.

He tried again, no answer this time. He tried once more before getting pissed and decided to just go over to her place because what the fuck?

When Eddie got to Robin's, he pounded on the door like the pounding going on in his head.

"Robin! Open the door, please."

The door finally swung open to a very angry-looking Robin standing before him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Munson?!" She stepped outside and closed the door behind her so he couldn't come in.

"Robin, I'm extremely hungover and do not have the patience for your riddles. Do you know where my girl is or not? I'm worried sick."

"Oh, you can relax now since she is not your girl anymore, buddy." she poked his chest roughly. "you made that abundantly clear last night.

"Last night? I don't remember a thing from last night!"

"Well, think harder because she has been in there sobbing her eyes out from your little phone call."

"Phone call? What pho-" Then it all came rushing back to Eddie. It hit him like a Mack Truck.

"Yo Munson, where is that little whore of yours? Is she usually dangling off your arm like your little pet?" Jason snorted. "I bet she's off sucking another guy's cock; realized what a loser you are."

Jason didn't say much more to antagonize Eddie and get in his head, especially with the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

How could he be so stupid?

"Robin, oh my god, I fucked up. I fucked up big. Let me apologize."

"No. not now." She's a mess, as you can imagine-"

Robin was interrupted by the creek of the front door opening.

There you stood, looking as small as ever. Your eyes are still puffy, and your hair is a mess in your pyjamas at 1:30 in the afternoon.

"Baby, I-"

"Don't!" you cut him off, and Robin leaves to give you two spaces. "Don't you dare come here and think you can just take back what you said to me!" You had done a lot of crying; your anger was showing through.

"You don't understand, Jason was-"

"Jason?! What the fuck does Jason have to do with this? You hurt me, Eddie! I gave you everything! And then you throw it back in my face, accusing me of sleeping around? Are you insane? I've been in love with you for the last year and give myself to you, and you just throw that all away because of Jason Fucking Carver?"

"Baby, please, I'm so sorry; I'll do anything!"

"You've done enough." You turn and slam the door. That's it. You were done. Your heart felt so heavy… like it was just smashed into a million pieces. You were so close to caving when you saw the look of sorrow in those puppy dog eyes. But he had hurt you so bad you couldn’t believe he felt an ounce of pain he had inflicted upon you.

You and Eddie were officially done.

You have been radio silent. You were held up in your room, and you refused to do anything other than go to work.

Eddie called you excessively. It was every day, multiple times a day. His messages made your heartache as you played them back. You could hear in his voice how broken he was. He had fucked up so bad you didn’t know if you should give him another chance. For two weeks, you refused to answer your phone. You were so sick of it ringing you eventually took it off the line.

Eddie did everything he could think of to try and win you back. He sent you flowers to your work every single shift. He called, wrote love letters, and just needed you to speak to him. He was a desperate mess without you. Eddie’s heart, like not, was ripped into shreds, and it was all his fault.

You’ve been in his life since high school since he met you in hellfire freshman year. Then, once you finally confessed your feelings for one another, he couldn’t believe his luck. You said you wanted to be with him, that you wanted him to be the only one you give yourself to. He never thought that he would be so lucky... And here he was, shooting himself in the foot. He even tried to go to your apartment a few times. But you would never answer the door. He would leave a note each time he showed up unannounced. It would say how sorry he was and how much he loved you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.

The slurred words repeatedly played in your head, and you couldn’t make it stop. No matter how much he apologized, nothing he could say could make you forget. Your chest felt like it had a fifty-pound weight sitting right on your heart. Your eyes were permanently swollen from the continuous crying you couldn’t seem to stop. He had stolen your heart and then stomped on it until it seized to beat.

The first month after the breakup was rough, but avoiding Eddie seemed to be easy enough. He eventually got the message by month two and stopped trying altogether.

As time went on, you slowly started to heal. Eventually, your constant thoughts about Eddie subsided. Eventually, they stopped. You never thought you would get over the hurt, but the distance helped. You were getting on your merry way by month three. Finally, feeling like yourself again, eating regularly, sleeping regularly. You hadn’t heard or seen him, and you were finally freed from the prison sentence that was Eddie Munson.

Time spent with your friends and family was exactly what you needed. Even though Robin saw Eddie regularly, she never forgave him for what he did to you. Their friendship was strained, which strained his friendship with Steve as well as Nancy. They wanted to take his side, but once they heard what he had said to you, they couldn’t simply look the other way. So you would hang out with them when Eddie wasn’t there and vice versa. They made sure you never had to encounter one another for the time being. However, it was getting more and more difficult to have two separate schedules to appease you both.

You were to go to Steve’s for dinner with everyone, pizza and movie night. When you arrived, everyone was tense. Lines got crossed, miscommunication ensued, and as you walked through to the kitchen, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in his hand, almost slipping from his grip as his Bambi eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Oh shit!” You hear Steve curse when he realizes the mistake that has been made.

“I’m going to go.” You turn and sprint to the door.

“Not wait!l You can hear Eddie shuffle off the chair behind you, but you refuse to look back.

“Please! Wait!”

Threatening tears sting your eyes, and you rush out the front door.

“Sweetheart, wait.” You feel his hand hook your elbow as your body is jerked in the opposite direction in which you’re running.

“What!” You yell, but then you see his eyes. You really look at him for the first time in three months. He had bags under his eyes, and the dark circles extenuated the deep chocolate of his eyes.

“I-I uh,” he lets out a deep breath, “I wanted to say I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I was so god damn stupid, so so stupid, the dumbest guy on the planet. I can’t believe I fucked this up so badly; I love you. I love you so much. I can’t do this anymore without you, baby. Please.” He was on his knees, begging, literally on his knees, grovelling.

“Eddie, get up.”

“No, I don’t deserve it.” He was so pathetic, but he didn’t care. “I love you, please, just please. I need you in my life.”

“I don’t know Eddie…”

“So that’s not a no?!” He popped up like an excited little bunny, the silver oh hope he needed to get by.

“Eddie…” you sigh.

“No, no, you said maybe! You don’t know. You haven’t decided. Please, baby, I love you.”

“This is too hard.” Your lip wobbles as you try walking away again, but he interlocks your hand with his.

“Please, can I at least just hold you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You let your hand slip from his grip, and he unwillingly let go.

Eddie felt you slipping through his fingers, literally. The hope he had moments ago was gone.

“I’m sorry”

“So am I…” without another look back, you walked away.

#Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine

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bet-on-me-13 · 4 months

Text

Ellie wasn't born a Halfa

So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.

A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.

Because the kid was glowing.

When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.

(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)

When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.

"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."

And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.

"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"

"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."

Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!

"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"

She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.

"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".

For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.

It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.

"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."

"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."

"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.

"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."

"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.

"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."

Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!

The Pits perked up

He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.

"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.

"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.

The Pits felt a sense of dread

Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"

"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."

No...

Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.

"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."

NO.

He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.

"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."

...

For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.

...

Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.

Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.

And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.

Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.

When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Dani Phantom #Danielle Phantom #Ellie Phantom #Ellie is younger #Vlad decided to try his experiment the moment she was old enough to feasibly survive #The Pits are not seperate from Jason #They are actually his Ghost Half (aka his emotional half) shining through #Jason is a Halfa #He doesn't know that though #After they finish their conversation Jason asks Dp if she wants a name #She says yes and eventually he calls her Stella #Or Ellie for short #Cause she is his little starlight #Danny is unaware that Ellie exists #I wonder what happened with him #Maybe he is living his life back in Amity?#Maybe he is on the run because the “real danny” showed up with Vlad claiming that he had been replaced by an Imposter Ghost #And his Parents instantly believed him because Vlad is claiming that he has been no contact for so long trying to save “the real danny”#Maybe Jason finds a second glowing kid hiding behind a dumpster?#And maybe he realizes that this is his daughter's older brother?#Is that what happens?#Well maybe it is #But that's between Me and my crippling inability to finish my Part 2's

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earlgreyflowers · 5 months

Note

59+Oscar. I was thinking they just had (vanilla) sex and as they’re lying in bed she says this and he’s immediately like, aight bet.

(Also this was the anon who sent in the 7 minutes in heaven one, thought I’d un anon myself, lol)

I am dropping everything to write this request immediately, you are an oscar piastri smut genius. I altered the prompt ever so slightly to match the reader's vibe but enjoy <3

------------------------------------------------

Your relationship with Oscar was relatively new, the two of you still getting to know each other's bodies. Oscar had always been quite a shy person, never really expressing much beyond a smile and a nod in interviews. With you he was different, soft and loving, very affectionate; something that translated into the bedroom. Hands held, missionary, forehead kisses - always very gentle.

Don't get it wrong, Oscar was a gentleman, always making sure you finished first, but there was only so much you could take before wanting to switch it up. Your head is currently lead on Oscar's hard chest, his arms wrapped around you as he breathes deeply. "You okay baby? You've been quiet since we finished." He questions, stroking his thumb up and down your arm.

"'m just thinking." You mumble, tilting your head to look at him.

"What about?" He asks, slight concern etched onto his features. You sigh, sitting up, "Do you ever want to try something different?" You ask. His eyebrows furrow, lips jutting out in a pout, "Different?" He questions.

"Like, don't take it the wrong way, that sex was good, it was so good. But next time, could you maybe do it harder?" You murmur shyly, avoiding eye contact with the Australian.

"Harder?" He asks, curiosity taking over. He pulls you into him, now straddling his waist, his hands resting on your hips. "Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you harder?" He questions, voice dropping with lust, his lips skating over your pulse point. "Want me to hold you down and fuck you like a whore?" He whispers in your ear, capturing your earlobe between his teeth, making you whine.

Your legs squeeze around his hips, yours beginning to grind lightly as he lays kisses over your neck. His pillowy lips suck against your pulse point, tongue laving over the red mark he left behind. His bite is slightly harder than usual, causing your nails to dig in to the flesh of his shoulders. He moans against you at the sting, turning you around and bending you over.

“Still dripping from the last time we fucked and my girl is just aching for my cock isn’t she?” He teases, watching the way you clench around nothing. He slips two fingers inside you, curling them down to press against your g-spot. Your knees almost give out with the pleasure but he’s quick to remind you that this was what you wanted.

Oscar positions himself behind you before sliding his cock inside you, groaning at your tightness. You moan out at the feeling of being stuffed full, your head drooping. Oscar’s hand loops your hair into a ponytail around his fist, pulling your hair back before he slams himself in and out of you.

“My girl’s taking me so well ay, is this what you wanted? Wanted to be fucked so hard your pretty little ass turns red?” He asks, his free hand coming down to hit you. You scream out his name, your walls providing a vice-like grip.

“There we go, that’s it, such a good girl for me. If I’d known this was how you liked to be fucked I would’ve had you cock drunk like this much sooner. Would’ve had those beautiful eyes crying for my dick.” He groans, pulling your hair tighter as he fucks you harder, faster.

“Oh god Oscar, please don’t stop, ‘m gonna cum.” You whimper, your legs slowly sliding down the mattress until you’re practically led on your stomach.

“Wanna feel you cum, wanna feel how good I make my perfect girl feel. Come on baby.” Oscar begins guiding you to your orgasm, gentle kisses to your neck contrasting the brutal pace of his hips. He feels your walls tightening further, your back arching into him. The moan of his name you let out is enough to send him over the edge, his cum filling you up.

He slides his cock out of your pussy, spreading your legs to watch the way his cum leaks out. Two fingers find the apex of your thighs, swiping through the combination of your juices before running over your lips. You open your mouth, eagerly taking in his thick fingers and he smiles, eyes beaming.

A gentle kiss to the forehead and a whispered promise of a bath is all it takes for you to fall asleep happy, dreaming of the escapades you and Oscar can now enjoy.

#f1 smut #formula one smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 smut #op81 #smut requests #smut prompts #smut writing

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disneyprincemuke · 4 months

Text

the other woman * mv1

everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour

notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO

(f1 masterlist)

your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.

he's late.

but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?

your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.

a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.

only for him not to show up?

this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.

because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.

you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?

you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.

you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.

only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.

fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.

you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.

it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.

it's your day.

a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"

"it's just me."

the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?

you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.

"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."

you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."

"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."

you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."

"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."

"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"

"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"

"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"

he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"

"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"

he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."

"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"

"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."

"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"

"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"

you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."

his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."

"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."

"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."

"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."

"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."

"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."

"you don't really mean that."

"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.

you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."

he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.

but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.

perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.

but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.

"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."

"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."

"please."

"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."

"i'm sorry."

"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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jenosbigtoe · 7 months

Note

what would happen if simp fwb haechan saw oc kissing at a party or something

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: fwb!lee haechan x reader

warnings: unprotected sex, creampies

“hey siri what’s the fastest, easiest, most painless way to die?”

he would see you making out with jaehyun at a party, sitting on his lap and grinding on his dick and all, and seriously would contemplate murder-suicide for a good sec. like why does that slick motherfucker jaehyun always get all the bitches? you’re literally his and everyone knows how down bad haechan is for you, so why would jaehyun even dare to put his grimy hands on you? he wouldn’t even confront you guys at first, he would just start drinking vodka straight from a bottle he found lying around.

texting mark and be like “just caught y/n cheating on me”

mark: “are y’all even dating”

haechan: “yes”

mark: “?when?”

haechan: “…okay actually no but-“

mark would later find his wasted ass on the balcony about to jump and have hold him back. he’d call you like “y/n come get this loser”. and you would hear haechan yelling in the back like “SHE’S FOR THE STREETS”

you’d stomp up stairs to collect him, finding him drunk and wasted out of his mind.

“no! leave me alone, you cheater! go back to sucking faces with that manwhore i don’t even care,” he whines and pouts, kicking and squirming around in your arms as you carried his ass to a random bed.

“stop being a brat, hyuck. you need to calm down. i’m missing out on good dick because of you,” you’d roll your eyes at your best friend’s childish antics.

haechan would look up into your eyes, his face red from all the drinking and lips jutted out from pouting so hard. “baby, you know you’re mine. why do you need to go to anyone else for dick when you have me in your back pocket?” fat tears would well up into his eyes as his lips quivered.

your face softened as you gave him a crushing hug. “don’t cry, hyuck. m sorry; i didn’t know you saw. but we’re not exclusive, yknow?”

he buried his face into your neck, deeply inhaling your sweet your sweet smell. you could feel a few tears on your skin. “don’t remind me.”

you stayed in that position for a good while, as haechan sniffled and sniffed against your neck. he was quiet for a bit, which made you think he fell asleep, when all of a sudden he pinned you down on the bed before you knew what was going on. he pressed his body against yours, using his weight to hold you down, and grabbed both of your hands and held them above your head. he used his thigh to rub and grind against your already throbbing pussy.

“m tired of this. m tired of you playing with my feelings like this. sucking face with one of my guy friends, rubbing it in that you’re not my girlfriend yet. the reality is: you’re fucking mine. mine. my girl. everything about you is mine and it’s been this way since we met when we were kids and you were the sweetest girl on the playground.” he whispered lowly into your ear and licked your earlobe as he did this. he reached one of his hands down into your pants and started playing with and teasing your little pussy.

you whined and bucked against his hand. “hyuck”

he took his hand out and slapped your pussy. “ah. let me finish, slut. you’re fucking mine and i’m gonna prove it to you. no one will ever make you feel like i do. you drive me crazy and i’m so obsessed with you. i love you, baby. i have always loved you and i will prove how much i love you and this pussy.”

your poor pussy was so sore and bruised the next day you couldn’t even walk or sit right. and he refused to wear a condom and finished inside you multiple times that night. oh yeah, and you guys came out as official the next day.

#nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream #lee haechan x reader #lee haechan #haechan x reader #haechan smut #haechan

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romeavecryst · 22 days

Text

Crybaby ˖ ࣪⊹

K. TSUKISHIMA x Fem!reader ˖ ࣪⊹

Sum: Kei hated it how easily he let the team get to his head. What did they know, she was his crybaby after all.

Warnings: none, fluff, crybaby coded reader, kei being love sick, occ kei(kinda)!not proofread Tho reader is blk coded I hope everyone enjoys!

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

It was wierd the team thought as they watched their middle blocker standing in front of a girl with a tear stained face. Of course their first thought is he made her cry, but that was not the case. They couldn’t help but watch as this happened multiple times before practice until Kageyama said something.

“Who’s that crybaby you stand with after practice?” He asked making Tsukishima stop tying his shoe immediately glaring up at the setter.

“Yeah making pretty girls cry huh Tsukishima!” Noya yelled pushing the blondes head.

Kei leaned up pushing Nishinoya off him “No I’m not, and don’t fucking call her a crybaby.” He spoke making eye contact with Kageyama.

“Why is she your girlfriend?” Kageyama scoffed.

“Yeah she is jackass.” A lot of the team definitely was not expecting that answer out of him. Tsukishima with a girl who’s known for being whinny, with as little patience as they know Tsukishima has she’s his girlfriend.

“No way! How is that pretty girl going out with a bully like you!” Hinata shouted.

Because he was soft with that pretty girl. Of course kei teased her for crying easily and over the most stupidest things but he was alway there to comfort her if needed. His hand squishing her tear stained face tell her it’s all right and not to be dramatic, but earns a punch for call her dramatic.

But it didn’t matter what the team thought of them, because they honestly held heavy doubts, that maybe he was to harsh with her or even mean. He didn’t think he was and she never said anything. She would right if his words ever hurt her she’d speak up. Right?

His eyes looked over to her as they walked through the night market hand in hand, a smile on her glossy lips as she looked around the food trucks. He hated that he could tell him self that he didn’t care what others thought but it did, it bothered him a lot. Was he the reason she cried sometimes, that his snotty remarks actually hurt her feelings. How could he do that to her. How could he make her cry what kind of boyfriend was he if he made her cry.

“Kei..”

He made her hurt didn’t he? The reason her pretty face was always wet with tears?

“Kei!”

He blinked. “Yo are ya with me!” She laughed waving her hand in front of his face. “Am i distracting you” she teased.

“Tsk- no you’re not.” He scoffed.

“Booo! But anyways what has you all airheaded?” She asked tilting her head slightly her braids moving to the side with her motion.

“Nothing.” He hummed.

She pressed her lips together squinting at her boyfriend, his eyes staring into her dark ones. “Will you quite that.” He asked a small smile appearing in his face as his hand pushed her face away.

Even with the moments they shared, he continued to let it eat at him. They moved to a more secluded area sitting on the grass food in hand. He watched her as she ate, and talked, about anything and everything. He just listened, as she went on, smiling at small things she said.

How did he get so lucky.. a polar opposite that didn’t annoy him. Her melanin skin glowing under the street light as they ate her smile wide and so bright. Kei let his hand fall into his hand as she continued talking admiring her.

“So are you gonna tell me what’s wrong.” She asked.

“Hm?”

She looked up as him her smile going away “what’s going through your head, I know better.” She did she knew him, mind you he hadn’t made any comment on what she was talking about nothing not even a snarky remark teasing her.

“So what is it baby?” She spoke leaning back in her hands.

He looked away from her gaze “nothing just something stupid.” He sighed closing his eyes.

He could feel her roll her eyes, the sound of her body shifting her now sitting right in-front of him. The feeling of her hands holding his face made him open his eyes.

“It’s nothikng don’t worry your tiny little head about it.” He spoke softly.

“Don’t lie what is it Kei? You know you have to talk to me to.” She spoke her brows frowning, don’t do that he thought.

“I understand but it’s nothing just letting people get to me head alright?” He spoke his hand squishing her cheeks her hands not yet leaving his face.

“Who? Is it about you-“

“It’s about us.”

She looked at him “bad things?”

He shrugged his shoulders “I guess..”

Her hands left his face, letting herself get comfortable on his lap her face close to his. “Tell me baby..”

He only looked at her for a moment his eyes looking at her lips then back to her eyes. “Do I ever make you sad?”

She tilted her head giving him an are you crazy look. “See I told you it was stupid.” He huffed.

“Why would people thing that, are they saying that?”

“Yes.” He groaned his head falling into her shoulder.

“Why?” She laughed.

He shot back pinching her cheeks “because you’re a crybaby!” He scoffed.

“Nuh uh!” She whined.

“Yuh huh!” He laughed.

Letting go of her face he watched her pout “I’m not a cry baby just open with my emotions!” She sassed.

“Uh huh sure you crybaby.” He spoke his hands resting in her hips.

“But it’s okay, you’re my crybaby.”

She smiled “shut up that’s so lame!” She scoffed pushing him.

“I thought it was good.”

“Lame!” She laughed.

“Yeah then why are you laughing you idiot!”

“Because that was cringy and stupid nothing my boyfriend would ever say.” She groaned her laughter causing him to smile.

“Whatever you idiot I can be romantic.” He said.

“Yeah I know you can but with actions not so much words.”

He scoffed “really!”

She hummed crossing her arms, making his eyes twitch “get off of me, that irritated me.”He spoke pushing her.

“Whatever! You love it.” She said getting back in his face.

He only raised a brow, “ya know ya do.” She whispered leaning on her hands, their lips grazing against one another.

“Want me to kiss you sweetheart?” He asked.

She grinned “I should be asking you that sir, you’ve been looking at me lips all evening.” She hummed.

He let her get closer their lips barely touching befor pulling away, “UGH! Why do you do that!” She whined.

“You gave me attitude.” He shrugged a grin on his face.

He watched as she fell back dramatically “you hate me!” She groaned.

“Mmhm sure do.” She sighs looking down at her smiling at her dramatic pose.

He let her complain a bit more befor leaning down kissing her lips. Only to be pulled by her for a real kiss. “Feel better…” he whispered a little breathless.

“Alway fee better when you’re here with me.” She said pushing his glasses up.

Yeah they didn’t know shit about them. He’d never hurt her, he never wanted to. She would be the only one to get true kindness out of him. Because he couldn’t afford losing her.

Req are open!!! (Plz send something I’m desperate 😞)

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fuckmyskywalker · 4 months

Note

ani sleeping w his stepdaughter cause her mom wouldn’t put out, but he tells her it’s okay because technically she’s half her mom. so he’s not cheating.

— 18+. Smut. Dead dove do not eat. Stepcest/Fauxcest. Afab!Reader | Fem!Reader. This is sick.

— a/n: I don't know who the fuck you are but I want to kiss you. I am. Speechless. (not proofread, it is 3 am).

It was hard for him to take his eyes away from you to start with. He was supposed to be a good role model— to make up for the father you never had… and yet, he was finding himself down on his knees for you. You wanted money to get your nails done? Stepdad!Anakin is handing you the cash. You want a new skirt you saw online? Send the link to Anakin so he can get it for you. You want to relieve that uncomfortable itch that boys your age simply cannot alleviate? Oh, your stepdad is more than happy to help.

There was always a small doubt at the back of his head; you are… well, his wife’s daughter. It could be described as «logical reasoning», but Anakin is— probably— physically incapable of not thinking about you the way he should be thinking about his wife. Sometimes it brings him pure spite, even disgust… but when you are so close— yet so far, can you really blame him? Despite his years, Anakin is insanely attractive; those silver strands mixing with his blonde curls, the small wrinkles around his tired blue eyes, even those strong, hard-working hands that rest on your waist when you greet him after a long day of work… Yeah, can you really blame a man?

He has to share you with his wife, and despite being something normal, he doesn't like it— but he doesn't know it, or at least hasn't thought about it. Anakin just dislikes how you cling to your mother, it being justified. She raised you alone, she gave you the life you have— he just walked into your life and your mother’s house to make everything more perfect than it already was.

Maybe it is an insult to your mother’s intellect and integrity to… fuck you, but, can you really fucking blame Anakin?

Anakin loves how willing you are. How you are so eager to fulfill the hole your mother is slowly leaving. Late nights at the office and poor daddy is all alone… you sure needed to step up and help him, right? And it is only fair, he gives you everything you want! So you might as well pay him back somehow, right? Right?

A man has certain… urges. Everyone knows that.

You know that.

And if he is married to your mother, and you are— practically half, is it even cheating?

Because it should make you feel guilty, because his cock has no right nestling inside your tight pussy in a way that has you touching the sky, fisting your sheets and moaning his name while your phone buzzes next to your head with a miserable text that reads: «Honey, I'll work extra hours tonight, tell Anakin to buy some takeout.»

“Ignore her,” Anakin groans, pushing your head against your pillow. He pulls your hair too, yanking your head up enough to hear your moans, but low enough for your tears to be eaten by the pillow. Crying on the bed is something girls do all the time, so if your mother sees it, it would be easy to explain. “Focus on me, princess. Does it feel good?”

You nod dumbly, sometimes it seems like your brain decides to take a break every time his cock slides in. “Uh-uh,” You mumble, drool trickling down your mouth.

“Good girl. Don’t think about her. It’s her fault anyway,” Your stepdad grins, slapping your ass for good measure. He likes how responsive you are— so different from your mom. She barely makes any sound. “You feel so fucking amazing, way better than she does.”

The backhanded praise makes your stomach swirl with little butterflies. Daddy complimented you! That’s lovely. That sure fills the void inside your heart. All you wanted your whole life was approval… and now, you have the most perfect, most caring, most attentive man in the universe to give it to you.

So, naturally, you beg for more. “Yeah?” It’s a breathless weak question, but it makes Anakin’s smile grow wider. “Do I… I feel better?”

“A hundred percent, doll,” Anakin purrs, looking down your back, licking his lips already savoring the taste of your sweat, biting them when he sees your ass bouncing and thighs giggling. “I might as well divorce her and marry you instead.”

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya answers!#anon #stepdad!anakin #stepdad!anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Note

Hey honey ! It’s 🐚 !! I have a request for you 🙈🥰 I love tough men that are assholes but turn soft for this one sweet girl ! And I was thinking Mafia Bucky and his rival’s daughter . He starts hooking up with her with every intention of her father finding out and being furious . But she’s none the wiser . She’s sweet and gentle with him even when he’s rough and rude . He always leaves the minute they’re done ,leaving her all alone and naked in her bed but she’s never bitter about it. After one particular night though , where they had sex in his place , she fell asleep , too worn out from Bucky being particularly rough . He took a moment to see her as something more than his nemesis daughter and he had to admit she was ethereal. Always sweet and kind . So much different than him and Bucky realized he might be falling for her . Especially with the way she was clinging to him in her sleep and how she never treated him like he was the bad guy . When he woke up she wasn’t there but everything changed after that night . The sex was gentler and so were his touches and kisses . He wasn’t just hooking up with her . He was making love to her without a word about this new change in their situationship . Until one night he had her in his arms , unafraid to cradle her cheek and kiss her forehead , telling her how he is in love with her and asking her to forgive him for the way he treated her

18+

Okay I’m dropping a bunch of WIPS for this. Bruh the request alone gave me butterflies I love this trope so much. Goddamnn.

This starts with very fuck boy asshole type Bucky. I made him a dick in this, deal with it, don’t cry about it, he redeems himself. See how the request says men that are assholes. I live for it. Bucky. Is. An. Ass. Hole. And a sweet baby by the end.

Also I don’t trust google translate but that’s what we have to work with, I am so sorry.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be Stark” Bucky sipped his drink, leaning back in his chair while Tony’s jaw clenched, wishing he could just put a bullet in between his rivals eyebrows. Bucky swirled the whisky in his glass, the ice clinking against each other while Tony rejected his proposal again, tensions growing higher with each passing minute.

“You’re not getting control over the South” He gritted through his teeth, ready to end the meeting one way or another until the door clicked open. You poked your head into his office, quickly padding over to his side, ignoring the broody men that surrounded the office.

“Dad, I’m going out with Wanda, we’ll be back late, is that okay?” You never left the house without telling him where you were going first, it was a rule he made for you when you were younger but you stuck to it even years later. You knew he always worried about you.

Tony frowned at your presence, not because he didn’t want you there but because he could see the other men stare at you, their eyes raking up and down your body like fresh meat. The dark material of your dress hugged your body perfectly and the thigh high slit wasn’t helping.

“Be safe” He pecked your forehead before sending one of his men with you, “Barton, drive her there” He shot the men in his office a death glare; he was patient over many things but you were not something they could fuck with. Ever. Bucky cocked an eyebrow noticing Tony’s shift in demeanor, he was protective over his little princess. He smiled to himself with this new information, why fight for the south side when he could he could ruin something more precious.

“This meeting is over” Tony stated, nodding to his men to escort Bucky and the others out. He narrowed his eyes at the way Bucky shrugged, casually downing his drink without making a counter argument, leaving a bit to easily for his liking.

Bucky climbed into his SUV with Steve by his side, his mind going back to you. Tony’s sweet baby. His protected princess. Steve also frowned at the way his friend accepted defeat, but he didn’t ask questions, noticing the way Bucky bit his lip, the wheels in his head clearly turning. The fucker had something in mind.

“You’re thinking something, I can tell” Steve gave Bucky a pointed look while Bucky shrugged innocently, earning an eye roll from his best friend.

“I need a drink”

The Club

Bucky sat at the private booth of the club, his mind calculating how he could over throw Stark without having to get his hands too dirty. He already had one idea in mind but that was more to satisfy himself. It wouldn’t get him his territory but it would get him something...better...He sipped his drink, sitting up slightly, seeing a familiar figure across the club, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Isn’t that her” Bucky’s eyes landed on you, watching your hips sway on the dance floor, laughing with your friends, completely in your own world. It couldn't have been more perfect, you were right there, practically served to him on a silver platter for him to take.

“Who” Steve turned around to see who Bucky was looking at, his eyes growing wide when he realized who his friend was eyeing. “Starks daughter?”

Bucky nodded, setting his glass down, making his way over to you before Steve or Sam could say anything else.

“Why is he not on a leash”

“I knew I should have gotten him neutered”

The blonde shook his head, running a hand over his face while Sam snorted, both men watching him make his way over to you. You were now seated at the bar, sipping on some water to cool down while your friends stayed on the dancefloor.

“Hey doll” Bucky sat on the stool beside you, both of you tucked away in the quieter corner of the bar area. He could tell by the way you smiled shyly, you’d be easy, a few flirty words and he’d get what he wanted.

“Hi” You blushed at the handsome mob boss, his blue eyes sparkling as he smirked at you. He bought you a drink, luring you into him like a siren. You found yourself getting lost in his charm, listening to his velvety smooth voice. Truthfully it was nice to talk to someone for once. Most guys avoided you, knowing you were the daughter of Tony Stark.

It was easy for him. His eyes flicked to the way you looked at his lips, inching closer towards him, your sweet innocent face gazing at him. He didn’t have to do much are you were already preening like a kitten. He had you exactly where he wanted. The air shifted when his hand grazed you thigh, the cold metal of his rings making you shiver. You didn’t pull back, letting his hand climb higher, leaning into his touch, your heart racing, craving more of him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop” His voice was low, his lips brushing by your ear. Your breath hitched when his hand tilted your chin up to meet his eyes again, nearly whimpering when his hand squeezed the soft flesh of your thigh.

“So needy” He smirked while you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, letting him take you by the hand to the private bathroom of the club. As soon as he locked the door, his previous charm dropped. His eyes darkened, his hands immediately all over you, pushing you against the marble counter of the sink. His lips smashed onto yours, tongue and teeth, not giving you a chance to breathe.

He sucked dark bruises on your neck, trailing the across your collar bone, pulling the front of your dress down to free your breasts. He lifted you onto the counter with ease, latching onto your nipple, tugging it between his teeth, smirking at the way you cried out.

He parted your legs, ripping your panties off and stuffing them in his pocket. Your pussy dripped, clenching around nothing at the sound of his belt buckle and pants unzipping, moaning when he pulled your thighs to wrap around him, his cockhead prodding your entrance. He didn't bother prepping you, his mind focused on stuffing his cock into you and fucking you senseless.

“Shh, better keep quiet unless you want others to hear how I’m about to fuck you” He growled against your skin, shoving his cock into you with one stroke. He gave you no time to adjust, snapping his hips against you, his hands gripping your ass while your hands flew to clutch around him, sinking your teeth into his shoulder to keep your screams down. He slammed against your g-spot, your arousal squirting out of you with each thrust, the coil in your belly building higher and higher as he fucked you harder.

“I-I’m gonna-” You couldn’t formulate a sentence, clawing at his blazer, his cock filling and stretching you, ruining you for anyone else. “Please-

“Don’t-don’t talk, just take it” His voice was low, teeth gritted as he focused on ruining your pussy. You felt flustered, your body on fire each time he touched you. You felt yourself melt into him, letting him toy with your body. His fingers gripped onto your ass, slamming you into him to meet his strokes. He wanted to fill you up till you were so full of cum, it’d drip and stain onto your bed sheets. All of his fucking cum painted on your pussy while you went to sleep, pretending to be an innocent little princess like you didn’t just take your dad’s rivals cock in the bathroom of the club.

Your eyes rolled back feeling his cock stroke your g-spot, the roughness of his hands on your body making you climb higher, you clung onto him, your body pulled taut, a sob escaping your lips before muffling your cries by biting down onto his neck as you came. Bucky smirked to himself, pounding you harder, chasing his release. He didn’t even have to touch you and you were coming undone for him, wrapped tightly around his body, your pussy sucking him back in.

He could feel pleasure crawl down his spine, his cock growing harder, something about getting to fuck his enemies daughter made him more feral than ever, his cock bursting with cum, endless thick streams shooting out of his sensitive tip.

“Fuck” he hissed, pumping his load into you, groaning as he pulled out, his cum dribbling out of you, spilling onto the sides of your thighs. You looked dazed, lipstick smeared, panting, your body limp against him. He tucked his cock back in, not looking back twice, leaving you a panting mess as he exited the bathroom. You stood on shaky legs, trying to steady yourself before grabbing a damp tissue to clean yourself up.

You splashed some water onto your face, your mind reeling over the way his touches made you feel, touching up your makeup before going back down to find your friends, his handsome face flashing in your mind throughout the night.

***

“Can you explain what it is you’re doing here” Steve watched his friend carefully, his hair disheveled, shirt untucked, a lipstick stain on the collar of his shirt when he joined them again, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“She’s probably a spoiled brat anyway” Bucky shrugged, unbothered about the type of person you were or how you felt about any of this. He wanted to see Tony’s face if he knew he had fucked his daughter, balls deep till she was walking around with sticky thighs, her soaked little cunt dripping all over her bed with his cum. He smirked to himself over the way you moaned for him, biting him to keep yourself quiet, the way your body responded to him, so needy and desperate. You were the opposite of your father; easy and none the wiser. If he couldn’t get what he wanted from Tony, he’d take the next best thing. It’s not like he wanted you. He just had to use you.

The club wasn’t enough. Now he had you in his hands, he wasn’t going to let you go until he you were ruined. He used the meetings that took place in your house to his advantage, quietly sneaking off down the hall way to find you. Your heart jumped seeing him leaning against wall as you made your way to your room after eating breakfast.

“Haven’t stopped thinking about me, have you” He smirked, cornering you against the wall, his chest pressed against yours. His hands came up to grasp your face, eyes locked with yours “You gonna let me cum in you?”

You let out a shuddered breath, and that was all he needed, dragging you over to your room and tossing you onto your bed.

“Take your clothes off” His cold blue eyes bore into you as you timidly unbuttoned your blouse, your hands shaking, already feeling exposed at the way he watched you. He wasn’t going to wait for you, striding over to the bed, his hands firmly gripping the material of your silky blouse, ripping it open, sending buttons flying onto the floor. His hands grabbed at the hem of your skirt, pulling it down before quickly tossed your bra and panties aside.

Your face heated up at the way he slowly crawled on top of you, the scent of his cologne throwing you back to the way he fucked you at the club, pulling pleasure from your body so easily.

“Please” Your soft eyes pleaded with his and his ego shot through the roof, getting to fuck you right on your bed. He nudged your thighs apart while marking you with his mouth.

“Always ready for my cock” He hummed, smearing your slick around, shoving two thick fingers into you, curling and scissoring them till you were withering and nearly screaming, your arousal leaving your sheets wet.

“James please” You looked at him with glassy eyes while he sat back, unbuttoning his pants, freeing his cock just enough so he could fuck you. He rubbed his cock onto your clit before shoving it into you, pounding you relentlessly as soon as he was fully sheathed inside you.

Your body moved to wrap around him, your legs tight around his waist and arms clinging onto his shoulders. All you could do was moan and chant his name, his cock was practically in your throat, thrusting into you till your bed scrapped against the floor. His chest swelled with pride as soon as he felt your walls start to convulse and flutter, you were so responsive to him.

“Cum, fucking cum on my cock” His hand snaked up to wrap around your throat, your pussy immediately clenching and throbbing around him, silent screams leaving through your slack jaw. His grunts grew louder, thrusting harder into you until he couldn’t hold back, determined to make a bigger mess than before.

“Take it, fucking-take it, take my cum” He grunted, groaning as his hips stilled, staying as deep as he possibly could while he poured his load into you. His cum spilled out of you, soaking the sheets, your greedy sopping hole, still fluttering even after he pulled out.

Perfect.

You were still hazy, blinking when you felt his body weight off the bed, sitting up slightly to see him already making his way towards your door.

“Oh-bye!”

Bucky clicked the door shut before you could even finish, leaving you bare and alone in your bed. You fell back against the sheets, your body worn and exhausted. You didn’t mind the soreness that you felt all over, sleep washing over you as you thought about his honeyed voice, those blue eyes, rough exterior. There was more to him even if he didn’t show it.

It went on for weeks. You were his perfect little cum dump, taking load after load, whenever he wanted. Your room. The kitchen. On the floor. He almost found it pathetic, how easily you let him back into your warmth when he never looked back at your twice after. It didn’t matter though. He got what he wanted.

Gala night

You sighed, sitting by yourself while everyone else mingled with their respective groups, you’d never been a fan of parties but you didn’t have much of a choice. You had to make an appearance at the gathering hosted by one of your families allies though you didn’t understand why. No one had even noticed you.

Well not exactly no one.

Bucky’s eyes lingered on you as he watched you across the room from his table. You hadn’t spoken to a soul all night, nervously fidgeting with your fingers, sipping on you glass of wine, the red liquid staining your lips. You wore a dark green dress, your legs on display with the thigh high slit and the sweet heart neckline showing off your perfect cleavage.

“Y/n” A son of your fathers friend wandered over, his hungry eyes flicking from your lips to your chest and up and down your legs. He noticed that you were alone, deciding to use the chance to get what he had been craving. He pulled up a seat beside you, sitting close enough so his legs brushed against yours.

“John” You smiled softly, internally wishing you had just stayed home. He had asked you out a number of times before and you always politely turned him down. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the blond who kept inching closer and closer to you, his hands trying to linger on your skin, lips whispering in your ear.

“You look beautiful. Did anyone accompany you?” He knew the answer but that didn’t matter. You shook your head and he grinned “You know you could have asked me sweets, I would have been happy to” He moved his hands to rest on your knee, slowly moving up to your thigh.

Your body jerked back, pulling away as if his touch burned your skin. His touch didn’t feel like Bucky’s. His eyes grew cold, it irritated him that you were so sweet and pathetically innocent yet unfazed by his attempts to seduce you; you’d never given into him.

“I-I appreciate that but I wanted to come alone” You didn’t want to upset him though you were very close to dumping a glass of wine on his head. Bucky’s jaw clenched at the way your body froze, discomfort evident on your face as he continued to try and paw at you.

Bucky didn’t like you.

Or care for you.

But you were still his to ruin and he wasn’t going to let someone stop that.

Is what he told himself as he shot out of his seat making his way to your table while Steve and Sam gave each other amused glances. Your eyes lit up as you saw Bucky taking long strides towards you, pulling you out of your seat and wrapping his arm around your waist without looking at you once. His eyes were trained on the blond that wordlessly glared back at him, not willing to argue with the mob moss as he walked away with you.

“I want to leave” You whispered up at him, craving to be touched by him, and forget the feeling of Walkers hands on you.

“Let’s get out of here” He tugged your wrist, dragging you into his SUV, tossing you in the back. You waited for him to get in, snuggling into his side when he slid in beside you, gasping when he gripped your cheeks, smashing his lips onto yours. There was nothing but tongue and teeth as he claimed you, biting and nipping at your lips, his hands grasping your waist to pull you closer.

“Home” He nodded to his driver before practically pulling you onto his lap, closing the divider as he sucked on your pulse point. He never brought women over to his place, given his line of work, he didn’t take the risk. But right now, his needs over threw that logic as he told the driver to take him home, ready to take you apart on his bed.

He hardly let you breathe the entire car ride, his tongue laced with yours, fingers tugging your hair, while your hands came down to grasp at his shirt. He broke away when the car stopped in front on the driveway, his hunger to have you wrapped around him growing stronger.

“Come here” He pulled you out of the car, carrying you in with your legs wrapped around his waist. He took you straight to his room, kicking the door closed, holding you up with one arm before locking it and setting you down. He threw his suit jacket off before turning you around and unzipping your dress, letting it fall and pool around you feet, leaving you in your underwear.

He groaned at the dark sheer lace that hugged your body, cupping your perfect breasts, your sweet pussy hardly covered by the tiny material of your panties.

“On your knees” He commanded, unbuttoning his pants, pulling his cock out, rubbing the tip onto your lips, making them glossy. You licked off his precum, moaning up at him while he gripped your hair back, the other hand holding onto your jaw. “Open”

He shoved his cock down your throat, guiding your face up and down his length, throbbing as you gagged and choked on him. His thumbs swiped over the tears that spilled down your cheeks, moaning at how wrecked you looked.

“So fucking perfect, sucking my cock like a the little slut you are” He groaned, “otsosi mne, printsessa”

Every whine and moan that you made went straight to his cock, twitching, dribbling arousal down your throat. He pulled you off, not willing to just cum in your mouth, not when his balls felt heavy, his cock desperate to be inside you. He carried you over to the bed, dropping you and ripping your lingerie off before stripping all his clothes off and crawling on top of you.

You let out a soft gasp at his complete bare form. He had never taken all his clothes off before, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander from his thick muscular thighs, dripping cock, perfect chest and handsome face, he was beautiful all over.

“James?” You blinked as he paused between your legs, the greedy side of him desperate to taste you, something he had denied himself thus far. Until tonight. You always smelled so sweet. He was going to make sure he touched and claimed every part of your body. “James, what are you-ohmygod!”

You gasped as he dove into your folds, his mouth unrelenting, sucking and swirling his tongue while he shoved two fingers into you, pumping them in and out, making your moans grow louder. He looked up at your squirming form, your head thrown back, thighs trembling and squeezing around his head.

“I-I’m gonna-fuckfuck-please-P-PLEASE”

He smirked against your clit, slapping the side of your thigh before sucking with more pressure and shoving a third finger in you, throwing you over the edge. Your juices spilled out of you, soaking his face, your scent and arousal covering his beard.

He didn’t give you any time to recover from you high, grasping your ankles and flipping you over, shoving your face down and bringing your ass up, his cock rubbing up and down your cunt.

“moya malen'kaya shlyushka“ He mumbled to himself, spanking your ass making you cry out. “Take it princess” He spanked you again, rubbing the sting away before grasping the soft flesh, squeezing it in his hands.

“Bet he would have loved to have you like this, hm?”

“Who?” Your brain couldn’t function, focused on his length pressed against you,

“Your little boy toy who wanted you attention so badly, ty shlyukha“ His fingers gripped tightly, humping and rutting his cock against you while you mewled, desperate for him to do something, “You ever let him put his cock in you?”

“N-no” You whined, as his hand gripping your ass further, guiding his cock to your fluttering entrance. A satisfied smirk graced his lips as he slammed into you, pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts, groaning at the way you cried out at the stretch. The sounds of his skin slapping on yours echoed through the room, nearly drowning out your muffled cries.

“Yeah, you know why baby? Cause your my little slut, my fucking cum dump” He wanted to ruin you so fucking badly, your pussy would never be the same, his hand snaking down to tug your hair for leverage to fuck you harder. “That’s all your fucking good for, to take my loads, give me something warm, tight and wet to cum in”

“F-uck! JAMES” He fucked you at an animalistic pace, moving to grip onto the headboard, his brows furrowed, keeping your face buried against the mattress.

“Such a well fucked hole, look-look at how you’re greedy cunt is swallowing my cock”

“P-PLEASE JAMES!” You had tears in your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure, the overstimulation consuming your body. You could hardly focus on anything, your hands blindly searching for something to hold on to. You could tell if you wanted more or less, your belly tightening again, ready to cum for a second time.

“Shut up and take it” He growled, his hips snapping wildly, the headboard cracking under his grip. Your tears spurred him on, his cock growing harder, ruined on his bed, crying out for him. He moved one hand to shove his fingers into your mouth, moaning when he felt your pussy clench, shoving them deeper.

Your body always responded to him perfectly, he couldn’t hold on any longer, his balls heavy and tight, ready to fill you with his cum.

“Ready for my cum, princess? Open that little pussy up for me, m’gonna fill you so much, it’ll squirt out of you, make my cock creamy princess, dirty messy slut” You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock against your sensitive walls, your arousal making his balls wet eat time they slapped your clit. “Say it, say you want my fucking cum”

“I want your cum!” You slurred out, waiting for his warmth to flood you.

“Who, whose cum do you fucking want” His head was thrown back, cock starting to twitch, the tip swollen and sensitive.

“Yours daddy”

That did it, you were too fucked out to even register what you had just called him but Bucky hear it loud and clear. It unleashed something in him, giving you 3 harsh sloppy thrusts before he couldn’t hold off any longer.

“Shit-FUCK-hng fuuuckkkk” His movements stilled, his cock throbbing, spilling his cum into you. He gave you a few more sloppy thrusts, emptying himself before pulling out and pushing his sensitive cock into you again, rolling you over so he could see your fucked out face. He had to stop himself from lapping up your soaked pussy with his mixed arousal, his cock ready to fuck his cum back into you as it dripped out.

“I’m not done with you”

****

Your body was limp on the bed, panting, soreness and bruises littering your skin. He had thrown you around in every position, pulling pleasure from your body as if it satiated his hunger. He pumped you full of his loads, not leaving one part of you untouched, his hands, tongue and cock caressing your body.

After the last round, he had gotten up to splash some water on his face, his body covered in sweat, his spent cock soaked in your mixed arousal. He wasn’t a stranger to rough sex but even he felt worn out, having thrown you around like a ragdoll to his content, cumming in you until he couldn't anymore.

As he walked back, Bucky blinked, seeing your curled up form on his bed, snuggled in his sheets.

That wasn’t part of his plan.

He didn’t intend on letting you fall asleep.

He couldn’t help but slip under the covers, too exhausted to think about if this was appropriate or not, waves of sleep crashing over him. He swallowed thickly when you shifted in your sleep, snuggling into his side, seeking his warmth, your arm hugging his waist, head resting on his chest. He tried to shuffle over but you clung onto him in your sleep, tucking yourself against him as much as you could, letting out a small whine whenever he moved.

Your body felt to soft and warm on him. He had never taken the time to really look at you, but as you laid on his chest, his eyes flicked across your face, taking in your features.

Your lashes fluttering against your cheeks. The pout of your lips. The soft curve of your jaw. There was no doubt you were beautiful but there was also something ethereal. Angelic.

Almost...precious.

It almost felt wrong for him to touch something so sweet and delicate.

He could smell the soft scent of your shampoo.

His eyes drifted to the bruises that covered your body.

The ones he marked you with.

The ones he never paid attention to before.

The ones he should have kissed and massaged- no. No...No?

You were nothing more than a means to an end...but he couldn't stop himself from stroking your skin, while holding you close. His hand trailed down softly to trace down your spine, making you shiver, nuzzling against him further. He couldn’t understand how even in your sleep, you were sweet. Trusting. You wanted to be wrapped in his warmth. He thought about the way you looked up at him when he tugged you from the party. The way you stayed on his lap the entire care ride home.

He thought about how he left without looking back each time but you were always so warm whenever he came back. Soft. His body moved on its own, pulling the sheets up to cover you, pressing a delicate kiss onto your head.

What was going on with him.

The next morning

He blinked awake, frowning at the coldness of the bed. You had left at some point during the night, so quietly he didn’t even notice. He felt....disappointed. He wasn’t even sure why. He missed the way you fit in his arms. The way you slept so soundly while cuddled up with him.

Something changed after that night. He sought your warmth, not just your body. He wanted to feel you wrapped around him, your arms clinging to be closer, your adorable little disgruntled sounds whenever he shifted while you slept on his chest. The way your voice soothed him. It wasn’t hooking up or just fucking anymore. It was softer each time. More sweet words. Lingering touches. He’d stay longer just to hear your honeyed voice, talking about anything, it didn’t matter. He knew this was no longer just him trying to get back at your father.

He had fallen for you.

He never thought he’d be capable of that type of affection, yet with you he had his first taste of sweetness and he didn’t want to let go.

A few weeks later - His room

“Come here” He pulled you close to him, his hands softly caressing your body feeling every bit of you as he laid with you on his bed. He peppered soft kisses onto your face, making up for all the times he should have kissed you before, your skin felt like soft silk on his lips.

He pushed himself into you slowly, for the first time, feeling all of you wrapping him in your warmth. He’d been inside you so many times before but now he actually felt you. Your sweet body under his, trusting him to take care of you.

He couldn’t hurt you, you were so precious.

His hands gently held onto you, rocking his hips slowly, savoring every second.

You knew something was different. He knew something was different.

“James, don’t stop, p-pleaase”

“I won’t stop baby, I won’t”

“Don’t let go”

“I’ll never let go malyshka, prekrasnaya printsessa”

He was making the softest sweetest love to you and you clung onto his body never wanting it to end. He held you gently as you came undone for him, slowly thrusting into you as he reached his high. His touch was so delicate, you would have almost missed it.

He didn’t say a word about what had just happened.

He thought he could ignore it, go back to how things were but when he was still throbbing in you, unable to stop how much he was cumming for you, it was impossible. His body weight fell on you, still grinding and rutting his cock, moaning into your neck. He nearly sounded like he was in pain, overstimulating himself with your sweetness.

“James?” You cupped his face, making him look at you, your thumb caressing his scruffy cheek. “Is everything okay?”

“You feel good baby” he whispered, resting his forehead onto yours. “You feel go so good”

“James what’s wrong” Your voice was more firm this time, cocking your head, waiting for him to tell you what was on his mind. His eyes were glassy, pushing some of your hair back, his thumb stroking your forehead.

“You’re an angel” He gazed down at you, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, how did he ever think about using you.

“Baby, where’s this coming from?”

He stroked your hair, his heart sinking at your confused expression. He didn’t even know where to start. “I- he huffed in frustration, how could he look you in the eye and tell you what his intentions were. “I-I don’t deserve you” He shook his head, biting his lip, unable to meet your eyes. He rolled you both over so you rested on his chest, your doe eyes waiting for him to continue.

“Why?” The flash of hurt that crossed your face made his heart jump, he never wanted to be the cause of your pain.

“Because angel, you’ve always been sweet. Kind. Affectionate. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved. I left you on your on every night when I should have held you. Made love to you, not bruised you skin”

His voice had slowly dropped to a whisper, his heart racing. You could see tears well in his eyes, his hands trembling on your skin while he rubbed your back.

“You’re precious angel, I can’t believe I ever treated you otherwise. You deserved love from the start” He let the tears roll down his cheeks, full prepared for you to up and leave, he knew he wasn’t worthy of you at all. And yet...he couldn’t stop the next words that slipped past his lips.

“YA tebya lyublyu” You blinked up at him while he smiled softly, sniffling, cupping your cheek, brining you closer to him “I love you”

“You love me?” You could fee your heart hammer in your chest, as you inched closer, your nose bumping against his, your thumb wiping his tears.

“I do moya sladkaya malyshka” He kissed your forehead, then nose, and the softest kiss to your lips. “Please forgive me babygirl, please” His eyes were pleading with you, ready to give you the world in your hands if that’s what you wanted. You nodded, snuggling into his hold while he wrapped you tight, hoping he’d be able to have you just like this for the rest of his life. His sweet girl.

“I love you James”

“Say it again baby” He whispered, wanting to hear those words from you over and over again.

“I love you” you smiled against his skin, while he kissed your head.

“My sweet doll” He adored you so much. “Say it again”

After secret dating and sneaking around for as long as you could

Now given that Bucky is your fathers rival, you can imagine it isn’t exactly the easiest thing to bring up. Tony is not immediately on board. At all.

Until he sees you both one day when you both think no one’s looking. He’s a little taken aback at how soft Bucky is for you. Who knew such a jackass could also be such a gentleman.

Your both outside in your garden; you thought your dad had gone out for meetings for the day. Bucky has you on his lap, feeding you berries with kisses in between each bite. He can’t take his eyes off you, nose nuzzled against your cheek, cuddling you under the warm sun. He can’t stop smiling and looking at you with heart eyes, his hands playing with your hair.

Clint snorts, watching Tony narrow his eyes at you both while watching you from his office. He so badly wants to shoot Bucky because again, how dare this cocky jack ass come to his house and woo his babygirl, fuck no.

But also...

You looked so happy.

“They’re cute, huh” Clint joined Tony’s side, smirk down at your both.

“Shut up”

He wants to go down and tell the mob boss to get his hands off his daughter but you laugh and snuggle into Bucky further.

“It’s been months boss, she’s the only one he’s been with, I hate to say it but it looks like he really loves her. And she loves him”

“Why do you know this”

“You’re not the only one who keeps tabs on her, she’s everyone little princess” Clint rolled his eyes, knowing the way all of Tony’s men cared for you like their own. Tony grunts, leaving to pour himself a taaaallll glass of whisky.

He wasn’t Bucky’s number 1 fan but for his little princess, he will allow it. There’s no doubt that Bucky loves you almost more than him. If you were a princess at home, Bucky treats you like a queen. You’d always be protected. Cared for.

Bucky comes directly to Tony all on his own, asking for your hand. Yes, its an outdated practice but he respects Tony and wants him to know his intentions are to love you and take care of you. He knows how much it would mean to you for father to say yes.

It’s a long discussion. Lots of differences put aside. Alliances formed.

Tony still thinks Bucky is a jackass but he can’t help but smile at the happy squeals he hears down the hall when Bucky goes straight to you to ask you to marry him.

A sweet intimate wedding. Not exactly small, but only people you both care for are there. Steve and Sam spend the entire time at the altar with shit eating “I told you so” grins.

(Tony’s wedding present is the south side)

Your first son, Steve Anthony Barnes is spoiled beyond reason by literally everyone. Steve and Sam compete with Tony and Clint and it’s done nothing but get on your nerves because you’d need a second house with how many presents he gets for no reason at all.

Your baby girl, Rebecca Samantha Barnes is daddy’s little princess. (Bucky will never, ever in his life admit he now understands how Tony felt over you. He kicks himself every so often and spoils you as much as he can)

The twins, Clinton and Natalia can only be left together for so long before they get up to mischief. Which is every minute of the day. Steve confirmed that dealing with illegal shipments was less terrorizing. Everyone agreed.

And of course with each day, Bucky is still head over heals in love with you.

Tags:

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 11 days

Text

The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

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eldritch-thrumming · 1 month

Text

is it casual now?, pt. two

pt. one

my friends call me a loser ‘cause i’m still hanging around. i’ve heard so many rumors that i’m just a girl that you bang on your couch. i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn’t lose. you said, “we’re not together,” so now when we kiss i have anger issues. you said, “baby, no attachments,” but we’re knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

around one in the morning, steve can’t take the tossing and turning anymore. he calls robin and she just says she’s coming over. she rides her bike all the way to steve’s house in the dark even though he tells her over and over not to do that. she just does.

he both loves and hates that she does.

steve’s on the couch in the living room again, moved back downstairs when he realized sleep wasn’t coming tonight. he’s sitting right where eddie had looked at him and rejected him. right where eddie had decided steve wasn’t worth the trouble. even in the privacy of his own mind, steve knows he’s not being exactly fair, but he can’t stop his thoughts from circling over what happened, over and over and over again, until the night is all smooth around the edges, all the good stuff rubbed away.

so that’s where robin finds him, wrapped in the navy comforter he’d dragged from his bed with the television glowing on mute. the house is dark and she just lets herself in like she always does.

“i take it the talk didn’t go so well,” her voice is light and steve can tell she’s trying not to add any inflection to the statement, trying hard so it doesn’t sound like a question.

“i don’t know, doesn’t every great love story start with someone storming out after the confession?” steve tries to make it a joke, to make it sound flippant, but his voice comes out flat. robin’s mouth quirks up a little any way and he knows it’s something like a pity laugh, but it does soothe the stabbing pain in his chest just a little.

“you wanna talk about it or you wanna let me take you to bed and big spoon the shit out of you?” robin reaches out to run her hand lightly through his hair, just once, before she lets it fall back into her lap. she’s wearing her pajamas, the wide leg of her flannel pants stuffed into her bright yellow rainboots, like she’d left the house in a hurry, couldn’t bother to change or find proper footwear.

steve sighs. “not a whole lot to talk about. i told him it would be kinda cool to maybe… date but he said he already told me he doesn’t really do that. and he’s right. i was just being dumb, i guess.”

“is that how you said it?” there’s a crease between her eyebrows now and she’s got that expression on her face that she always gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“i mean, not, like, word for word or whatever, but yeah, that’s the general gist of how it went.”

her expression shutters and her jaw sets. “right, well. he doesn’t have to be a super mega asshole about it.”

“he wasn’t,” steve tells her, earnestly. robin is eddie’s friend too and he doesn’t want this whole dumb thing ruining that too. they could all use all the friends they could get at this point, especially ones who get it, whatever it happens to be. “i promise. it was just… my mistake. he did tell me, from the beginning. i just misunderstood.”

robin’s face softens slightly. she reaches her hand out to lock her fingers with his and they sit there in the glow from the tv for a long moment, silent. “let’s go to sleep,” she yawns finally, standing from the couch. “everything will be better in the morning.”

~*~

robin is half wrong, but she’s also half right. things are better in the morning. steve doesn’t feel like his chest is going to cave in at every small wrong move and he doesn’t feel like crying every five seconds after his extensive cry sesh in the shower.

but eddie still isn’t there.

~*~

it’s been weeks since steve has seen eddie. steve’s not stupid. he’s aware that eddie’s actively avoiding him, despite the fact that steve has called the trailer multiple times trying to apologize. he’d left a confusingly vague message with wayne, one he’s sure had made no sense if it was even relayed to eddie at all. picking the kids up from hellfire at the wheelers is a newly torturous experience with the kids now waiting for him on the curb awkwardly instead of making steve wait an extra fifteen to twenty minutes on the wheeler’s gross plaid couch in their basement that perpetually smells like corn chips. everyone seems to be clearly aware that something is up. he’s sure he sees sympathy in mrs. wheeler’s eyes when she waves to him from their front door, thanking him for driving the kids home.

steve’s not exactly sure where it all went wrong. he knows now that he’d blindsided eddie; it was more than apparent now that eddie hadn’t even thought about what he was doing or how steve was feeling. steve spent hours thinking about eddie every day and it was clear now that that was not reciprocated. which is fine, he guesses, but he had thought he and eddie were friends first. they’d saved the world together after all. that tended to bond people forever, he’d assumed, just simply based on his relationships with robin and dustin and even nancy. he hadn’t really accounted for losing eddie completely. but steve was clearly fucking clueless when it came to eddie munson, so maybe he’d actually been wrong about everything all along.

he ping pongs back and forth between feelings of self-pity mixed with self flagellation and feelings of intense, white-hot anger at eddie. one minute, he’s sure this is all his fault, that he really is the dumbest person on planet earth and he definitely deserves to have people leave him constantly when he’s so fucking stupid all the time, can’t even keep his stupid fucking mouth shut and his stupid ugly feelings to himself for one time in his stupid fucking life. the next, he starts to blame eddie for what happened instead, blames him for not understanding steve at all. it’s eddie’s fault for not seeing what was right in front of his stupid fucking face. but after a couple of minutes of that, he’s back to being certain it really was his fault after all.

so after almost a month of no returned phone calls, no surprise visits at work just to say “hey” because eddie couldn’t sit around all day waiting for steve to get off his shift, no casual touches as they chat while eddie packs up his dnd gear, steve finally takes the massive fucking hint for what it is and stops calling. he begs jonathan to pick the kids up from hellfire, lying about a new shift schedule at work. he refuses to drive the kids anywhere that eddie might potentially be, even when the kids insist eddie really won’t be there. he’s trying so hard to convince himself that actually he’s the one avoiding eddie and not the other way around. he’s barely even hanging out with robin anymore, besides work. she seems to get that he needs time alone right now though. steve’s never been more grateful for a platonic soul mate.

but after this long, agonizing month of constantly rearranging his own life to help someone else avoid him, steve’s exhausted. he’s been having more nightmares than usual, ones where the people he loves all take turns dying in his arms. it’s a wednesday when he finally has the night off and he decides to treat himself with sixteen candles and a pizza. he orders his pie and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling his wallet from his pocket before answering the knock on the door.

“what do i owe you?” he asks after the door swings open. he’s got his eyes on his wallet in his hands, fingers moving over the bills folded together.

“oh, um,” a familiar voice stutters. steve’s eyes snap up. “i—“

steve feels like he can’t get any air for a minute. eddie’s just standing on his front step, staring.

steve’s throat feels dry. he has to swallow a few times before he can get any words out, but eddie beats him to it anyway.

“can we, uh. talk?” eddie looks nervous, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. steve steps out of the way, silently letting eddie pass him on his way into the house. the door swings shut and it’s the loudest sound steve’s ever heard in his life.

they stand in the small foyer with its huge ceilings and steve can feel the cold of the tiles through his thin socks. eddie makes no move to enter further into the house, so neither does he. steve shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence of his own home.

“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, after a long stretch of silence that makes it clear eddie’s not actually about to speak. eddie’s eyes keep flitting around the small space, landing everywhere but steve’s face. eddie shrugs, looking over steve’s shoulder into the kitchen behind him.

“it’s not—“ eddie shakes his head, cutting himself off. steve wants desperately to hear how he’d finish that sentence. almost as desperately as he doesn’t.

“i ruined it.” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i tried calling the trailer… to apologize. left a couple messages with wayne but.” he shrugs.

eddie grunts. steve wishes he knew how to make this better. he can’t tell if the grunt means eddie got his messages or not. he’d thought he was good at deciphering eddie’s noises by now.

“look,” steve says, finally frustrated with the whole thing. “we were kind of friends before we started… hooking up or whatever. i get that you wanted something casual and that i ruined it. i get that i fucked it up and i made you uncomfortable and—i just get it, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong. you were always honest. i was just seeing what i wanted to see and i let myself believe something that wasn’t real. so. i would really like for us to be friends again. i hate this, eddie. it really sucks. i don’t like not seeing you around. i just—this sucks.”

eddie nods, swallowing thickly, but he doesn’t really seem like he’s hearing steve.

“yeah,” eddie finally agrees. “this sucks.”

steve gets the sense that eddie means more than just this whole dumb thing between them, but he’s trying not to be in the business of making assumptions about what eddie means anymore.

“i have a pizza coming,” steve sighs. “if you want to stay?” he can’t help but feel hopeful and he knows this is too much, to invite eddie to stay when they haven’t even really made up yet, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. he’s never been good at this.

eddie glances into the living room and steve’s not entirely sure what he sees or what he imagines, but he watches as eddie swallows again, eyes darting quickly to steve’s face, just once, before he gives his head a small shake. “no, i don’t—i should go. but we’ll see each other, okay, harrington?” and he says it like a question but steve thinks he knows it’s not really a question at all. steve will see eddie any time, anywhere, whenever eddie asks.

steve tries to smile before shuffling toward the door and watching eddie go.

~*~

it’s another ten minutes before his pizza even gets there and when it does, steve’s feeling even more sorry for himself than he has in the last month since he’d asked eddie out. he makes it halfway through the movie and the pizza before he starts to consider calling robin. it’s been a while since they’ve just hung out and that’s been entirely steve’s fault. she hasn’t said anything because she knows steve inside and out, but steve is really missing her right now.

he’s just about ready to pull on his shoes and pick up the phone to tell robin he’s on his way to get her when there’s a knock at the door. half of him is confused, the other half is convinced it must be robin, having sensed his desire for her company. he stands and makes his way to the door, a half smile on his face as he swings it open for the third time tonight.

“look, what happened before is not why i came here, so wait and just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want but if you don’t let me just get this out, i’m never going to say it and i… you deserve to hear it so i need to say it, for real, right now,” eddie’s practically panting as he pushes past steve.

“um okay,” steve tries to get out but eddie glares at him.

“shut up, shut up for real, okay.” eddie crouches down in the foyer of steve’s house, his head in his hands between his knees. his voice comes out a little muffled, but steve can still hear him pretty clearly. “you didn’t ruin anything. you didn’t. really. i ruined it. i ruined a really good thing.”

steve feels like his chest is being hollowed out but he bites his lip, desperate not to interrupt.

eddie groans and steve can see his fingers tense and release in his own hair. “you were so sweet, on the couch. the last time.” he says it like steve could’ve forgotten and steve feels a blush rise on his cheeks. “you… you looked so soft and gooey and hopeful and i—i fucked it up. because back when this whole thing started, it seemed like a miracle that you’d even look at me. like. you’re… you and i’m just me. what the fuck.” eddie laughs almost hysterically. steve feels his fingernails cutting into his own palms with how hard he’s trying to stay still and silent. eddie still hasn’t looked up from where he’s holding himself tight. “and it kept happening and happening and happening and i—i’ve never… i’ve never.”

“oh,” steve can’t help but breathe out in surprise.

eddie shakes his head a little, seems to forget himself and look up and then he’s just staring at steve’s face. he swallows again and steve can see his hands shake. “no, i mean, i’ve… but never… more than once. never all the time.” now that eddie’s looked steve in the eyes, he can’t seem to look away. his eyes look so huge and glassy from where he looks up at steve from his place on the floor. steve feels his heart clench. his fingertips ache. “never like that.” steve nods. “and then you didn’t leave. you didn’t run or pretend it didn’t happen. and you let me pretend it was something it wasn’t, like we weren’t… like it wasn’t… important.” steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “because i was lying. obviously. of course i was. it wasn’t casual. you’d never be casual. not for me.”

“i don’t—“ steve suddenly can’t breathe.

“wait. please.” eddie’s eyes go soft around the edges. “i fucked it up, stevie, because i was lying the whole time. and i thought you were just letting me lie because… i don’t know. i don’t know why, because i know it wasn’t casual for you either. it was all over you. and that was really, really scary.” steve falls to his knees on the foyer tiles, vaguely aware of the dull ache, before sliding closer to where eddie is crouched. he whimpers, just a little, when eddie holds out his palm, presses it to the center of steve’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “hold on, baby, i just. i have to say it, please. gimme a second, i’m just…” eddie gives his head another small shake, as if he’s trying to clear it. “i’m sorry, i guess, is what it really all comes down to. i’m sorry i let you think you weren’t important. i only realized you didn’t know that night on the couch and i… i guess i saw some plausible deniability. a way to walk away without getting, like, totally annihilated. and that’s, you know. my whole issue.” eddie swallows again, hand fisting into the fabric of steve’s shirt. “i was scared. i ran. because… because i love you, stevie. i was falling in love with you this whole time and trying to act like i wasn’t. because i was an idiot. and i couldn’t be the one to break first. but what a stupid, fucked up way to think about it, huh? i love you, man, and you deserve to hear it and feel it and have it, is really what i’m trying to say. i just love you.”

somewhere in all of that, eddie had used his grip on steve’s shirt to pull him in closer so their noses are practically touching. steve can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes, can feel eddie’s breath on his lips.

“you love me?” even steve can hear how incredulous his own voice sounds.

eddie huffs out a laugh and steve can feel it on his skin. “yeah, dude. of course i do. how could i not?”

“dude,” steve repeats, cause like… really?

“is that all you have to say?” eddie slides his nose along steve’s, nuzzling, skin warm. steve’s eyelids go heavy.

“you left me hanging for, like, a month, bro,” steve tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathless.

“yeah,” eddie murmurs. “i’m so sorry, baby. can i kiss you?”

and all steve can do is nod.

~*~

the next morning, steve wakes up to soft sunlight filtering in through the blinds he forgot to close last night. he feels hazy, all syrupy and warm, before he bolts upright in his bed. or tries to. because just as he’s moving, he notices the heavy presence on his right arm.

“too early,” eddie groans, shuffling naked under the covers. “turn it off.”

“turn what off? the sun?” steve smiles as he turns to spoon his equally naked body behind eddie. he drops a kiss to eddie’s bare shoulder.

“mmhmm,” eddie hums, and steve can hear the smile in it.

“hey,” steve says, before they both fall back into sleep for a few more minutes. “i love you, too, by the way.”

“oh yeah, by the way?” eddie snorts.

“better than ‘i love you, dude.’”

“oh, you think so?” eddie shifts in steve’s arms until he’s somehow gotten on top of steve, holding steve’s wrists above his head. steve can’t help but thrust his hips upwards in eddie’s direction. “yeah, okay,” eddie concedes, breathless, grinding his own hips downward. “you’re right. whatever you say, beautiful. can’t argue with that. super compelling argument.”

steve has to kiss him just to shut him up.

#steddie #is it casual now? steddie au #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #steve x eddie #steddie au #steddie angst #i haven’t slept and also a little high rn so if there are typos don’t tell me lol

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