#sometimes I want to ask them “what about me”
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#call of duty#john soap mactavish#angst#angst with a happy ending
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Not enough suffering. I need to cry.
The boys just continue to pretend that reader no longer exists. Becoming more of a fly on the wall then a roommate they occasionally fuck.
Soon they just leave you out of everything, dinner? There was not even leftovers for reader, no scrapes left either.
Reader won't leave because they will soon come back around tho right? >:')
god I just love PAIN
c/w: neglect, angst, no happy ending in this one, brief mentions of sex
it becomes a very depressing and very predictable pattern from them. wake up, avoid you then go to sleep. even when they speak to you, they’re never saying much. normally just a reminder that you left dishes in the sink or something mundane
you held out hope for the first few days, especially when simon came slinking over to you one night in the kitchen, bending you over the counter and having his way with you. his rough hands and fast pace made your heart swell solely because you missed having one of them even touch you
but when he just buckled up his trousers and left without a word, you realise you’re still on time out
sometimes you’re asleep before they get home, locked up in the spare room as you sniffle into your pillow. they don’t even come to check on you and you begin to wonder what conclusion they came to on your whereabouts. do they even know you’re at home? do they care?
every day of the month, you and the boys are supposed to set aside a night to go out for a date. seems your invite was lost in the post when you see them all dressed up, talking amongst themselves about the pub they’re going to
“can I come?” you ask, standing in the doorway and playing with your fingers nervously. the laughing and chattering stops instantly, all four heads turning to you as if they didn’t even know you were there. you know what the answer is going to be before any of them say anything
“you won’t like this place. it-“ john starts, and you know he’s about to list off some lazy excuse as to why you won’t like it. as if that was even the point. you don’t go on date nights with them for the actual drinks or decor. you go to spend time with them but they clearly didn’t want you there so you simply wouldn’t go
“whatever.” you mumble, rolling your eyes and turning to leave what was once your shared bedroom so they don’t see the tears in your eyes. you slam the door to the spare bedroom, throwing yourself onto the mattress and sobbing into the pillow
you hear a light tap on the door before it opens. you cease your crying almost instantly, keeping your back turned towards the door. your heart rate picks up and that sick familiar feeling of hope crawls its way back into your chest, “we weren’t saying you can’t come with us. come if you want just don’t make us wait around forever whilst you get ready.”
the sound of kyle’s voice fills the room but you can tell he doesn’t really want to be speaking to you, like simon or the captain told him to come do some damage control so you wouldn’t throw a strop about not being invited. you keep your back turned to him, nuzzling your head further into the pillow
“jus’ go without me.” you sniffle, “it’s not like you really want me there anyway.”
kyle sighs at your words and you hear your door softly click close and everyone’s feet shuffling downstairs before they go out the front door, leaving you alone again
#mw2#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#soap mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#poly!141
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grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻
You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring.
“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up.
“Hi, mom.”
You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.”
“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.”
“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.”
“It’s him I’m calling about.”
“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy.
“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.”
It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take.
You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now.
The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him.
He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign.
Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.”
“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness.
Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.”
Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath.
She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens.
Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?”
“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine.
He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.”
He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?”
You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.”
He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it.
“Let me sit you down,” he says.
“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?”
He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?”
“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.”
He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says.
It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands.
He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach.
You close your eyes.
“Rough day?” you ask.
“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck.
You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp.
“How’s that?”
“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.”
“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.”
“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”
“No, I know.”
His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?”
You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.”
He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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Gossip || Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader
Summary: Kyra wants to kiss you, and you want a date.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: Something short & sweet & (as always) unedited. I hope you enjoy :)
“Will- um… You know that one cafe that you really like? Do you want to go there? With me, in particular?”
At Kyra's hesitantly sounded words, you had to bite back your smile. You don’t think you’d ever seen this particular Australian so nervous before.
You watched Kyra’s almond brown eyes bounce around, unable to look at anything but your face. Her hands jittered nervously at her sides, and the poor girls’ face was about as red as the tomato you’d cut up for your salad the night before.
“The cafe I like, hm? No, I’m not sure I do. I like a lot of cafes, you know?” You couldn’t help but tease the Aussie. After all, the girl was intent on pestering you and all of your teammates, so who was to say you wouldn’t tease her now?
You’d happened to know that the girl was going to ask you out sometime soon, as Katie McCabe had accidentally let the secret out, having heard it from her own Australian girlfriend.
Not a single secret could be kept on the Arsenal women’s team, which was something that you’d become all-too-aware of when you’d transferred to the team over the summer. You’d arrived at the same time as Kyra, and the two of you had become fast friends due to your similar ages and interests.
You’d quickly learned that a secret was not a secret if you told anyone on the girls’ team. Everybody had their own friends, and their partners, and their besties and, soon enough, a secret would become a known fact throughout every single person on the team. It was how you’d found out about Katie and Caitlin in the first place, having not been aware of it during the World Cup.
Looking back, it was quite obvious that Caitlin and Katie had been dating anyone with eyes. However, you’d turned off all social media during the World Cup so that you could focus on yourself and get as far as you could with your American team. As it stood, that wasn’t very far at all.
That was all besides the point, however, because the next secret to have burned through Arsenal like a wildfire was about Leah and Lia. The two weren’t a couple, as far as you knew, but you knew that they had kissed– more than one time, according to Victoria Pelova.
Now, it was Kyra’s turn to be ravaged by Arsenal’s inability to keep secrets. You would have thought that it was high school and not a full grown women’s football team with the way everyone gossiped. Everyone knew that you and Kyra had feelings for each other– that is, everyone but you.
Apparently, the two of you looked like lovesick fools anytime you were together. Emily Fox had told you that she’d never seen you as happy as you were when Kyra was by your side.
Caitlin Foord had told you that Kyra was never as carefree and herself when you weren’t near.
Hell, even Beth Mead and her girlfriend, Viv, had even tried to get the two of you to go on a double date with them, not knowing that the two of you hadn’t already been dating.
Then, of course, there was Katie McCabe herself, who had notably said that you two looked like you wanted to fuck when you locked eyes across the field during training.
And so, of course, you knew that Kyra liked you, and Kyra knew that you liked her. It had just been yesterday when Kyra had tried to kiss you while you were watching a movie in your apartment. You’d nearly let her, before you’d pushed her away.
“Hey, what was that for??!” Kyra had said, cheeks red. You’d never been this close to the Aussie before, so close that you could count the dark freckles on her cheeks if you really wanted to. So close that you could smell the cinnamon toast that the two of you had eaten just before sitting down to watch the movie. So close that you could have let her kiss you, which you didn’t.
“What are you doing?” You asked, making sure that your voice remained light. Kyra appeared confused, furrowing her eyebrows at you.
It had taken all of the strength in your body to push Kyra away, ever so gently. You’d been waiting for so long to kiss the other girl, and to call her yours, that the fact that you’d been so close to finally getting what you wanted made your chest ache.
However, you’d always been a romantic at heart, and so you simply smiled at Kyra as the girl glowered at you.
“What am I doing? What are you doing? I’m trying to kiss you!” As Kyra continued to be confused, her voice rose. You became aware of her Australian accent, which thickened as she tried to figure out why there was a specific look in your eyes and why you were smirking. It was a look that she was familiar with– one that you had on whenever you helped the Australian with a prank, or when you teased another teammate during training.
“Oh? And you think I want to kiss you? Before a first date?” You asked Kyra, fighting back a little giggle as Kyra frowned.
“We’ve hung out loads of times! We’ve cuddled each other to sleep– and you’re not counting those as dates?” Kyra asked, looking more and more like a kicked puppy as you sat there, smiling at the other girl.
“No, those were not dates, thank you very much! There were no flowers, and we didn’t even hold hands, and we only cuddled each other to sleep because we were drunk! I didn’t even think that you’d remember that night.” You elbowed Kyra, and the other girl shook her head at you.
“Okay, then. Fine. Go on a date with me!” Kyra said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.
“Really? Kyra, my love, you can do better than that!” You chastised, and saw Kyra’s frown deepen. Her eyebrows furrowed ever further, deepening the lines in her face. If she didn’t stop looking so damn adorable, you swore you would kiss her very soon.
“You want flowers, don’t you?” Kyra asked, although she sounded more like she was making a statement than anything else.
“Yup!” You said, grinning at Kyra. “Show me just how much you liiiike me.” You drew out the “i” in “like”, enjoying the look of utter frustration and impatience on Kyra’s face.
“But I wanted to kiss you.” The girl said, frowning once more.
“Ask me out, and then we can kiss all you want, love.” You said, your voice less teasing now. Truthfully, you wanted to kiss Kyra as well, but you also wanted to see what going on a date with the girl would really look like.
So, that very night, Kyra had gone out with Caitlin and Steph to pick out flowers for you. Steph had suggested that she get you chocolates as well, while Caitlin had suggested chocolates. Kyra had gotten both– despite knowing that you wouldn’t reject her, she wanted to impress you and she wanted your first date to be as perfect as possible.
Kyra had had to buy two boxes of chocolates, however, once she realized that Caitlin had eaten half of them.
And now, Kyra stood at the step of your front door, with a white dress shirt and a black jacket draped over it, as well as black pants and shoes. Her hair was down, and you had to resist the urge to push a strand of hair from her face.
The girl held roses in one hand, and a box of chocolates in the other. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, taking the roses from Kyra’s extended hand.
“Thank you, Kyra.” You whispered. Slowly, you took the Australian’s hand in your own and pulled it up to your lips, giving the back of the girls’ hand a small kiss.
When you looked up, Kyra was blushing even more, which you thought was impossible. For a moment, you thought that the poor girl was going to pass out, but she remained standing.
“I’m just going to put these in a vase on the counter. If you want to come in, you’re more than welcome to.” You told Kyra, the flowers in your hand. Kyra nodded slowly and followed you in.
It only took a moment to set the box of chocolates and flowers, and when you came back, Kyra held her hand out to you. The girl smiled, more reserved and shy than you’d ever seen her in your life. You let Kyra take your hand in hers, and enjoyed the feeling of the warm skin of her palm against your own.
Kyra dragged you right out of your house, your own clothes comfortable but similar to Kyra’s in the fact that they were formal.
That afternoon, Kyra gave you the best first date that you’d ever had. She bought you your favorite coffee, ordering for you due to the fact that she knew your order by heart. Then, the girl dragged you halfway across London to some botanical garden that Leah had told her about, knowing just how much you loved plants and nature.
The entire time, Kyra held your hand. You two shared laughs, and jokes, and just talked. You’d dreamed about doing this with Kyra for the months that you’d known her, and the feeling of finally being able to go on a date with the girl was one that you hoped you’d never forget.
When the time came to drop you back off at your house, you and Kyra stood on your doorstep again. She held both of your hands, now, and smiled at you in a way that made the dimples on her pretty cheeks stand out.
“Can I kiss you now?” Kyra asked, sounding only a little bit impatient when she did so. You intentionally paused just for a moment, before you grinned at Kyra.
“I would like that.” You answered. Before you could blink, the girl tugged you into her and wrapped her arms around your upper back. You only had a moment to giggle, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as you tilted your head upward, catching Kyra’s lips with your own.
Your hands gently came up to frame the girl’s face, allowing you to tilt her head just the way you wanted. You caught her bottom lip between your own, and you swore you melted right on the spot.
Your head was in the clouds, the warmth of the other girls’ lips on your own enough to set you on fire. In fact, you swore that your skin was burning, and as you began to part, Kyra pulled you right back in again. Kyra kissed gently, and sweetly, and her lips tasted like honey from whatever sweet she’d eaten while the two of you had been walking through the garden.
Finally, after a few more moments, you two did part. However, Kyra didn’t let you go quite yet, looking at you but almost as though she wasn’t truly there.
“Kyra?” You asked, unable to contain the smile from your voice, your lips seeming to have a mind of their own in the way that they refused to stop grinning.
The girl finally seemed to come back to herself and grinned back at you, smiling.
“Hi.” Kyra said.
“Hi, love.” You said back, and Kyra’s smile grew impossibly wider.
“Can I come in?” Kyra asked, and you laughed a little bit. Only Kyra would have the audacity to invite herself into your home after a first date.
“Oh?” You didn’t even know what to say, halfway between turning the girl down just to tease her further, while also wanting to kiss her more and more and more.
“Please? You told me that once I took you on a date, I could kiss you all I want. I’m ready to cash that in!” Well, you couldn’t argue with that logic, could you?
The rest of the afternoon was spent with you in Kyra’s arms, kissing and only half-watching the movie that Kyra had insisted upon putting on.
Of course, it was Kyra’s fault as well that the entire team caught on to your antics when you showed up in a hoodie the next morning, a light hickey just below your jaw poorly hidden with makeup. Now, it was your turn to become the team’s gossip, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
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QUESTION TIME?
pairings: (platonic) lewis hamilton x f1 driver!reader.
warnings: sexist comments. interviewers asking rude questions.
summary: being the only female driver on the grid means being the unofficial spokesperson for women in motorsports and you’re tired of it.
author’s note: a part of my newest series! i’m still actively looking for more scenarios and ideas regarding this universe! so if u have any thoughts or questions? let me know! i’d love to hear them <3
“do you worry that being more open and accessible to different drivers will lower the level of competition within formula one?”
the silence could be cut with a knife. everyone in the room looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as they waited for your answer. you took a sip of water as you collected your thoughts.
sometimes, when you were younger and karting, you’d wish that you had been born a boy. that might have been an unpopular opinion but you held it occasionally, although not for the reasons one might think. being a man would have meant that you would have been treated as just another driver rather than a novelty. no one else on the panel was expected to act like a mouthpiece for their entire gender.
taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before addressing the question. "i understand the concern about maintaining the high level of competition within formula one. however, i believe that diversity and inclusivity in motorsports can actually enhance the competition rather than detract from it."
you glanced around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of the reporters and fellow drivers. "by opening up opportunities to drivers from different backgrounds and experiences, we bring new perspectives and skills to the sport. this diversity can drive innovation and push the entire field to new heights."
pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, you continued, "i don't necessarily think talent and competitiveness are determined by gender or any other factor. it's about skill, dedication, and passion for racing. embracing diversity not only reflects the world we live in but also strengthens formula one as a whole."
as you finished speaking, you could sense a shift in the atmosphere of the room. while your response might not have been what everyone expected, you knew it came from a place of honesty and conviction. and deep down, you hoped that your words would spark a broader conversation about the importance of inclusion in motorsports.
the room digests your response, slowly and steadily until another interviewer speaks up. "i get where you're coming from, but let's be real here. formula one is about pushing the limits, about being the best of the best. we can't afford to water down the competition just for the sake of diversity."
you respected his perspective, knowing that he always spoke his mind but god, if that wasn’t the worst way to word that. "i hear you," you replied, "but i don't see diversity as watering down the competition. if anything, it's about elevating it. different perspectives bring new challenges and force us to raise our own game. isn't that what racing is all about?"
he paused, considering your words. "i suppose you have a point," he conceded, nodding thoughtfully. "but we still need to ensure that the drivers who make it to formula one are truly the best, regardless of where they come from."
you nodded in agreement, acknowledging the importance of maintaining high standards in the sport. "absolutely," you agreed. "and i believe that by embracing diversity, we can do just that. it's not about lowering the bar; it's about expanding it to include drivers who might have otherwise been overlooked."
after a moment, lewis, who had been your unofficial mentor throughout the process of integrating into formula one, raises his hand. he had been listening to the whole exchange with a furrowed brow.
“i just want to echo what y/n has said,” he began. “diversity isn’t a threat, if anything it’s our greatest asset.”
he turned to address the room, his gaze steady. "we've seen time and time again how diversity helps drive innovation and pushes the sport forward. and it's not just about gender or race – it's about welcoming drivers from all walks of life and giving them the opportunity to shine."
lewis paused, letting his words sink in. "formula one should be a reflection of the world we live in – diverse, inclusive, and full of opportunity. and by embracing that diversity, we make the sport stronger, more competitive, and more exciting for fans around the globe."
you smile at that and grin at the interviewer.
“is that a good enough answer for you?” he nods and your remark sparks laughter in the room. after a moment, the interviewers target your peers and you take a deep breath. free at last.
when the interview concludes, you find yourself walking step by step with lewis, who smiles at you.
“you answered those questions well. i’m proud.”
“just followed the hamilton playbook.” you tease. “who knows? maybe i’ll be fighting you for that championship next.”
“i’d welcome the challenge.” lewis laughs, his eyes bright with amusement. “but seriously y/n, never underestimate the power of your voice and your presence in this sport. i always say that the goal is to leave the sport better than we found it, and you’re only in your second season and doing that. i have no doubt you’ll achieve great things.”
his voice is thick with sincerity and he places a warm hand on your shoulder before leaving. as he disappears, a young girl wearing your merch comes bounding up to you. she’s grinning wide with a missing tooth and when she speaks, her accent is thickly american with a strong lisp.
“y/n! hi!” she waves a massive poster in front of you. it has your name, your number and a message of support. “y/n you’re the coolest! will you sign my poster please?”
with a warm smile, you kneel down and grin at her.
“of course! i’d be honoured.” your assistant hands you a sharpie and you scrawl your signature in the corner of her poster. her parents taking a photo of the two of you and then with her parents permission, you sign her hat and her shirt. “thank you so much for all of your support. it means everything and more to me. keep cheering me on okay? i do this for all of you.”
“i will!” she beams. you laugh and pass your assistant her pen. “you’re my hero y/n! thank you!”
she bounces off and her parents wave while saying their thanks. your heart swelled up after that interaction, reminding you as to why you do this. why you deal with all those incessant annoying questions because it gives you the opportunity to help inspire the next generation of young racers.
as you stand there, you see a guy with a camera walking your way. your eyes widen as you make a sneaky escape. today has been filled with enough questions, you think as you hide out in gavin’s office.
#jayde’s works ☆#maneater ꕤ#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 texts#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lh44 x reader
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Body Swap (HC)
Fandom: Obey Me
Pairing: DB x fem!Reader
Warning: None
Requested by: Anon
Prompt: Can you do a body swap headcanon with demon brothers? So basically female MC swap body with one of the brothers
A/N: Hope you like it! Anon, who requests the N.SFW version of this. I don't write for gender bender, especially with 18+ HCs. This one is an exception because it's more emotional and comedic, so sorry!
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Lucifer
Lucifer is the most mature in handling the body swap incident. He doesn't make a big deal about having to deal with being in a woman's body, even though he secretly feels uncomfortable.
If you set any rules for him, he will gladly follow them as it is your body, and Lucifer does not intend to take advantage of it.
He asks Solomon and Barbatos to help resolve this situation as soon as possible. But for some reason, he can be himself without feeling pressured to uphold his title.
On the other hand, you don't like openly showing your emotions, even more than usual. You also feel the pressure of being prideful. It almost feels like things are out of your hands. You don't want to be prideful, but the universe forces you to behave that way. Is this how Lucifer always feels as the Avatar of Pride? Your ego also gets wounded more than usual.
But you can finally take off your...Lucifer's shirt...and get to see the scars of his wings firsthand.
Most of all, you enjoy ordering others around. Even though the brothers know that you are not Lucifer, they still get intimated since you are using the first brother's body.
You would have taken full advantage of this by transforming into Lucifer's demon form, but he already warned you not to do that by threatening you with a tough punishment once you two switch back.
Mammon
He is embarrassed! Why did he switch bodies with you? How is he supposed to sleep and go to the bathroom and stuff? Just the thought of undressing makes his mind explode.
When you suggest using a blindfold or closing his eyes, Mammon tries his best to do things without peeking at your body, even though a part of him is tempted. But no! Respect is more important.
Meanwhile, you have the sudden urge to hoard valuable things and 'borrow' things from others, and the most prominent thing in your mind is money. Money, money, and MONEY!
You feel your greed levels rising and have a hard time to control. Sometimes, you have to talk to Mammon to figure out the best way to control your destructive urges.
"Now, y'know how I feel..."
Those words hit you hard, and you forgive him for everything he has ever done.
While you were protective of the younger brothers before, you have a devastating urge to sacrifice yourself for them, even though your...Mammon's body trembles at the thought of what punishment Lucifer will give him.
You make a mental note to help Mammon get out of punishments in the future when you switch back.
Levi
Absolutely refuses to do anything and sits in his room in a fetal position. He can't even bring himself to go to the bathroom or take a bath. Even if you tell him to clean your body, he will refuse.
Though, Levi feels lighter because he can think more clearly being away from his demonic body. It's almost like he can think more clearly.
For some reason, you start to feel jealous of everything...every little thing to the point where it makes you feel down and suffocated. When you start crying from the feeling, Levi panics and tries to calm you down. After calming down, you realize that he always feels this way - no wonder Levi is always down. You give him (your body) a tight hug, making him blush profusely.
Unfortunately for the brothers, when you become aggravated due to an argument between them, your emotions accidentally summon Lotan. However, the brothers don't blame you for it, and Levi finally realizes how scary it is for the others when he calls Lotan out of nowhere.
You spend the most time in Levi's room and get into a habit of changing into his demon form and wrapping his tail around him (your body) just to get a reaction out of him.
This experience brings you two much closer than before, and Levi trusts you far more than before.
Satan
Oh my Devildom, he doesn't feel angry, even when triggered. This feeling is very difficult for him to get used to, but it's a refreshing change. However, he constantly reminds himself that this is only temporary and that he should not get used to it.
He is also mature about the body swap and does his best to respect your body as best as possible. Even though Satan won't admit it, he finds the experience fascinating and finally understands how a woman's body works. Although, he will never get used to random body aches, especially random lower back pain.
You, on the other hand, are not so fortunate. You feel like you are a ticking time bomb of anger. One little mishap, and you feel like destroying everything around you. Satan tries his best to pacify you, but it doesn't work all the time. At times, Beel and Lucifer have to restrain you after you have a rage episode. Then, you profusely apologize and nearly break into tears. It's a vicious cycle.
This makes you realize just how hard Satan has to work to keep his anger in check, and Satan realizes how difficult it is for his brothers to control him when he gets angry.
Once you switch back, you are tempted to tell Satan to meditate, but the thought of a demon meditating is hilarious yet odd.
Asmo
Asmo is the only one who is excited about the body switch. He doesn't feel uncomfortable in any way and actually enjoys being in your body. He has always wanted to see what it feels like to be a woman.
Even though Asmo is in your body, he has the urge to fix every skin problem you have. If you don't have any, he will continue to take care of your skin for you. He may even go as far as to develop a skincare routine tailored to you. If the two of you stay switched for a long time, he will whip your skin into perfect shape.
Meanwhile, even though you feel beautiful in Asmo's body, there is always a voice in the back of your head that whispers 'what-if' scenarios. What if you stop being beautiful? What if you get breakouts? What if no one loves you? What if others think you are unattractive? The pressure to be beautiful is suffocating. A part of you feels very bad for Asmo and can finally understand why he has to be beautiful at all times.
One thing makes you very uncomfortable, and that is Asmo's urge for desire. His avatar needs physical affection all the time. The thought of getting close to someone in Asmo's body is very disturbing, so he helps you out by cuddling with you whenever you need to get close to someone. At least you are hugging your own body...which is still odd to think about but better than the alternate option.
Beel
He doesn't like the feeling of being shorter and less muscular, but that doesn't stop him from working out. However, you will have to remind him not to start with heavy exercises if you don't work as much as him.
Most of all, he feels odd not having to think about eating 24/7. He can actually focus on other things, and it's a nice change. But he does miss eating endlessly solely for the taste of good food.
Meanwhile, you feel like devouring the entire world's food supply. Nothing you eat, no matter how much and how heavy, satisfies you.
You cannot focus on anything except food. The worst part is that Beel forces you to exercise, following his normal routine. He doesn't want his body to be out of shape.
On the plus side, you can see over most people's heads. You will never lose anyone in a crowd. Also, you have a great deal of strength to the point where you can lift an entire house if you want.
For the time you are in Beel's body, you act like a superhero, saving everyone from the bullies and villains. All you need to do is grab them by their shirt and lift them off the ground with one hand. That is enough to make them petrified.
You also get the pleasure of flexing in front of the mirror and admiring Beel's rock-hard muscles to your heart's content.
Belphie
He finds the situation hilarious and doesn't seem to care. Belphie almost has a 'it is what it is' reaction. Initially, he thinks his sloth-like nature will pass to your body but soon realizes that he has a lot more energy to do anything and everything he wants.
Belphie decides to use this chance to fulfill this bucket list before he returns to his sleepy body. Of course, he drags you with him everything, much to your dismay.
You feel sleepy, lazy, and lethargic. No matter how much you sleep, it's never enough. Your brain always feels hazy to the point where you can't even think straight. How does Belphie constantly put up with this? No wonder he sleeps most of the day.
You secretly try to consume caffeine products, but nothing works to keep you awake. Sometimes, Beel has to carry you around because you get into a habit of falling asleep anywhere at any time.
Though you don't tell Belphie, you are secretly happy to return to your body. A part of you doesn't feel like sleeping for days as you got all the sleep you needed in the few days you were in Belphie's body.
----
Epilogue:
After you switch back, you finally understand why the brothers behave the way they do. While you don't say it aloud, you believe the avatars are more curses than anything else. However, you learn to sympathize with them more. How do they deal with the curse every day? They are strong.
So, the next time Lucifer gets prideful, Mammon gets greedy, Levi gets jealous, Satan gets angry, Asmo goes on about beauty, Beel eats endlessly, and Belphie dozes off, you don't get mad at them. All you do is hug them and tell them, "It's okay."
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➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3]
➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi?
➣ Commission: Open
#obey me#obey me hcs#obey me nightbringer#obey me swd#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me asmodeus#obey me beel#obey me belphie#obey me belphegor#obey me leviathan#obey me x reader#lucifer x reader#mammon x reader#leviathan x reader#asmodeus x reader#satan x reader#belphegor x reader#beelzebub x reader
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Could you maybe write something for lia wälti? Maybe her and reader are babysitting a friends toddler, just some domesticity and lia swooning at r interacting with the kid
CAN’T WAIT - lia wälti
"me want to help!" poppy smiled sweetly giving you those cute little eyes that made it so hard for you to say no to. "okay, you can have your own special job!" you smiled as you picked her up and sat her on the counter top, a small little cheer coming from the four year old as you tried to think of something you could give her to do to keep her little brain occupied for some time.
“look, so first we snap the end off then you’ll can open and put the peas in here” you demonstrated to poppy how to do the pea pods and she nodded as you showed her, a little smile appearing on her face as she managed to open a pod by herself.
“good job!” you smiled, holding you hand up for the little girl to high five. your girlfriend watching on as her heart warmed watching you interact with the young girl, her mind wandering for a moment about what life would be like when the two of you had your own little family, leaving her wondering if you had thought about it too.
poppy was your older brothers daughter, a confident little girl who was not scared to say or do anything. which sometimes would get the little girl in some trouble but it would always make for great stories when she was older.
you and lia had offered to look after poppy after your brother was left stuck after your mum had gotten her dates mixed up and could no longer look after poppy while your brother and his wife went for some spa retreat for their anniversary.
and if you were being honest part of you was glad your mum had gotten her date mixed up as it had meant you could spend some quality time with your niece.
you had picked the little girl up from school, surprising her as she came out the classroom running into both yours and lia's arms while talking at a hundred miles per hour at how excited she was to see the both of you.
chatting both yours and your girlfriends ears off the whole car ride back to yours and lia’s home, telling you every detail of her day from what she had for breakfast to what colour pencil she coloured her drawing in with at school.
now she was ‘helping’ make dinner and by that she was just ordering you and lia around. “can you help?” she asked as she held up a pea pod for you to open for her, you had given her the job of opening a few of them but realistically she was just getting you or lia to open them for her so she could eat the peas out of them.
“don’t forget to put the peas in here poppy!” you reminded her pointing to the blue little tub you had given poppy minutes earlier, “i won’t!” poppy sung out, as you handed her the pea pod back, and within seconds she was slotting two peas in her mouth and putting one in the little blue tub.
“think it’s a bit late for that love!” lia whispered nudging you to look inside the bowl, where there was three little peas in there as you looked to the swiss and mumbled an ‘ah’
“poppy! your not supposed to be eating them!” lia said as she caught the little girl putting another one of the peas in her mouth instead on in her little blue tub.
“me not wally, there’s some in my tub!”
“i guess we aren’t having peas tonight..” you whispered in lia’s ear as you rested your head on shoulder, while reaching to get some of the other ingredients for dinner that were on lia’s side of the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss behind her ear.
“she too cute to be mad at, so i guess it’s okay!” your girlfriend quietly said at the two of you watched for a moment as poppy used her teeth this time to bite the end of the pod, putting all three peas in her mouth, the two of you quickly laughing at the little girls antics.
“me don’t like broccoli” poppy said as she watched you pick that up first out of the ingredients you had moved to your side of the kitchen counter, as she pulled a disgusted face as she watched you chop a little bit of the stork of the broccoli.
“don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep the greens to a minimum for you!” lia smiled, knowing that you would put them in the dinner but cut them up really fine making the chances of the little girl even noticing them very slim.
“my daddy says they look like tiny trees he doesn’t like them either” poppy said making your girlfriend giggle at the comment as you smiled shaking your head, that was what your brother used to tell you mum when she would ask him to eat his broccoli.
“well he’s not wrong”
now that dinner was out the way, you had decided on a film to watch. curtesy of poppy's choice it was settled you were watching luca. which you knew she had only picked for one reason.
“can we please skip to the silenzio bruno part?” poppy asked looking up at both you and lia as she was tucked up in between the two of you in her princess pyjamas.
“pops, we gotta watch it from the start!” lia smiled moving the loose hairs out from the front of her face as poppy mumbled a fine.
lia looked over and smiled over at you, as you moved a little closer to lia resting your head on her shoulder as she played with your hair. your breathing slowing out as you felt your body begin to relax.
by the time the film actually got to the part poppy wanted it at she had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the four year olds lips. “i’ll go and take her up” you said as lia nodded as she kissed your cheek before you moved.
lifting poppy up carefully along with her little stuffed toy that she had took attached to her all evening, and carefully retreating to the spare bedroom where you had set up made the bed for poppy - putting two pillows at either side to make sure she didn’t fall out of the bed during the night.
tucking the little girl in with her teddy and blanket before kissing the top of her head and leaving the little night light on that your brother said she slept with on when she was at home before moving towards the door as closing it a little bit.
quickly going back down the stairs to where lia was, and walking into the living room to see that the swiss had not moved a muscle as she scrolled through her phone that was in her hand.
crashing on top of the swiss with a big sigh as she groaned, luckily being able to move her phone out the way quick enough to avoid it hitting her in the face.
“who would have thought looking after a four year old would be so tiring” you mumbled into her chest as your eyes felt heavy with tiredness.
“basically a full time job, baby” lia whispered as she giggled a little as you felt the vibrations of lia’s laugh from her chest.
you sat up, straddling lia as her hands found your waist, travelling a little up the back of your hoodie tracing small circles in your lower back. “i can’t wait until that us with our own little baby” lia said, at your eyes widened and lia began to back peddle. “no- no that- i” her face full of worry, scared that she had said the wrong thing.
you cut lia off by kissing her, smiling into the kiss as you hands went to the back of her neck. the kiss was pure and full of love and reassurance, pulling away after a few minutes, pecking her lips a few more times before lingering close to lia’s face smiling big as her face was now relaxed.
“i can’t wait to start a family with you either”
#awfc imagine#arsenal wfc#arsenal women#awfc#awfc x reader#woso appreciation#woso blurbs#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#woso#lia walti#lia wälti#lia walti x reader#enwoso
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𝝑𝝔 an: so i got like 3 requests ab jealous cool bf sukuna x loser gf dynamic but i won’t be able to tag em since you know they were sadly anonymous. i decided to combine them into 1 fic hehe, hope you guys like it!! read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!
cool boyfriend sukuna doesn’t get jealous, alright? he is not insecure or anything like that, he trusts you and you trust him so it doesn’t matter to him if someone tries to woo you or something. but you can be a little dense sometimes since you haven’t experienced a lot of the things people usually do in their teens.
still, he likes to think that you’d be smart enough to reject anyone who tries to make their advances toward you, albeit he is sure if you do it will be in a very polite and a sweet way, much to his dismay. but it’s just the way you are and sukuna loves his loser girlfriend.
but he doesn’t know what’s going on through your mind when this happens;
“do you wanna maybe go out tomorrow?” some guy from your class asks you, a nervous smile as he awaits your answer. you continue collecting your things into your bag and look up at him with a small smile, naively thinking he wants to study or talk about your shared classes.
“sure!” you chirp and then briefly glance at the door of the room only to find your boyfriend standing there, hands in his pockets and a deep frown on his face as he stares at you two.
the guy in front of you almost jumps in excitement from your answer, stuttering out that he will text you later and leaving the room.
“what did that nerd want?” sukuna asks you as soon as you exit the class, his arm taking it’s usual spot on your shoulders.
“oh, nothing much, just asked if i wanna go out tomorrow.”
at that, sukuna’s steps come to a halt as he squints at you with a confused look. “and you said..?”
“i said ‘sure’.”
he exhales deeply before hits the back of your head with a disgusted look on his face, ignoring the way you stare at him in bewilderment, hands flying to rub the spot. but he doesn’t give you time to process anything, tugging you into one of the empty classes and locking the door.
“sit.” sukuna orders, leaving no room for complaint as he lifts you up to sit on one of the desk, planting his hands beside your thighs on the surface as he breathes heavily.
“‘kuna..?” you ask, unsure if you should even say anything while he’s angry at you.
“are you dumb?”
you pout, brows pinching together as you look up at him in genuine confusion, “why?”
“the dipshit asked you out and you said ‘sure’?”
“we were just talking about the lecture so i thought he wanted to study together.” you look down at your lap, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt nervously. “i didn’t realise he meant it like that.”
as mad as sukuna is, he can’t resist that sad little pout on your face; the way your eyes get all wide and bottom lips juts out defensively, cheeks puffing a little. and he is sure you’re not lying to him because he knows you.
he moves away from you, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts and calm down.
“are you mad at me, ryo?” you ask innocently, hand instinctively finding his to tug at his fingers so he doesn’t move too far, although a bit unsurely. “‘m sorry.”
“i’m not mad.” sukuna intertwines your fingers, pulling you into himself gently. his other hand suddenly finds your face, squishing your cheeks together roughly as he shakes your head from side to side with a sinister smirk. “pull shit like that again and i’ll kill ya.”
“ow, ow— sukuna!” you whine, trying to peel his hand of your face, but he doesn’t let go until he kisses your plumped lips a couple of times. “you’re so jealous!”
that wipes the smirk off his face very quickly.
“i’m not, loser.”
you poke his cheek with a bright beam on your lips, “you are, heh.”
“gettin’ cocky, aren’t you?” he pushes your face away with his palm and steps away from you, leaving you to trail after himself with small giggles escaping you.
suddenly sukuna smirks, his arm around your shoulders tightening it’s hold, “i’ll still beat the shit out of him tho.”
“sukuna, no!”
#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x you#jjk sukuna#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna x you
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Hey guys! I actually spent long minutes staring at these reblogs and debating whether it was worth responding and talking about or not. But as I'm not the type to take hate and keep quiet, I decided to talk about it.
First of all, Reia, you really seem like a person who doesn't read many fanfics for the way you put it in your text, so I'll explain the meaning of the word. Fanfic, short for "fan fiction", is a story written by a fan based on characters, universes, or real people (like the triplets). Fans create their own narratives, expanding or reimagining everything, creating their own version, which in real life does not exist OR, as writers, we often draw inspiration from real-life events too.
And yes, you and Evangeline are trying to be "fanfic police" and even "sturniolo police", if you scroll through the thousands of Sturniolo Triplets fanfics, you will come across A LOT where Matt, Nick or Chris go through situations of anxiety attack, panic attack, OR where the "reader" herself goes through this, sometimes even involving situations way worse than that. Furthermore, there's thousands of fanfics describing explicit sex scenes with them, the famous smuts, does that bother you too? Because in the world of someone who writes a FANFIC in here, it doesn't.
And yes, I was indeed writing about the meet and greet situation, and this was nothing new to ANYONE in the fandom WHO READS THE FANFICS HERE. I even made a post the day before ASKING who would like to read the idea, and you want to know the news? All 200 people who voted wanted it.
I understand that you feel this story is disrespectful FOR YOU, especially because it touches on a real-life situation that may be sensitive or painful for some people. I want to assure you that it was never my intention to cause harm or disrespect anyone involved in that situation.
I myself am diagnosed with chronic anxiety, and even so, I didn't feel affected by the way I wrote. In fact, I described how I feel during MY anxiety attacks.
In no way did I make fun of the situation Matt went through, in fact, my intention in writing this story was to explore Matt's complexity and show how he deals with real problems, such as anxiety. It was a way to give more depth to his situation during the tour and highlight the importance of the emotional support he receives from "Y/N". It was not my intention to mock him, but rather to explore his humanity and the challenges he faced, and I know with all the certainty in the world that I did not mock him, much less affect the people who read the story.
Please, I ask you to reevaluate the need to throw hate at a person who has nothing to do with your outside the box opinions of what WRITERS ON THE STURNIOLO'S TUMBLR should or shouldn't write about.
There are thousands of posts on Instagram and TikTok from "fans" really mocking Matt and throwing hate at him about "their bad experiences" during one of the shows, these are the people you should be giving a piece of your mind to, not me. 🩷
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#vante thoughts
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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.”
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“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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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03
@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin
@sofiparallel
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fandom#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#fanfic#joel miller#joel miller angst#infidelity joel miller#joel miller au#joel miller tlou#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us hbo#hbo the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x original character#joel miller x oc#joel smut#joel x reader#joel the last of us#joel x you#joel x oc#angst fic#cheater joel miller
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twitch streamer ⟡ lhs
syn gamer! bf heeseung hcs / thoughts!
wc 639 && trope est relationship fmr mlist
note 🗒️ ; starting off small to get my motivation back </3 for @lilacnini and the gc ofc 😇 enjoy reading!
gamer bf! heeseung who stays up late at night to stream
gamer bf! heeseung who tries his best to not wake you up while he streams — he avoids screaming and yelling
gamer bf! heeseung who would end his stream and stop playing his games if you wanted his attention or if you needed anything from him
gamer bf! heeseung who leaves his stream on accidentally on day, and his viewers could hear you and him laughing in the other room together
gamer bf! heeseung who realizes that what he did, and laughs it off and tells you his idea of teasing his fans about your relationship with him
gamer bf! heeseung who soft launches your relationship which makes his fans go insane
gamer bf! heeseung who asks you if you wanted to go public before doing anything rash, and you say yes
gamer bf! heeseung who turns on his stream on a random day to do a random Q&A with you and his fans
"hi chat! I'm not going to be playing today, sorry. i am with my girlfriend though! say hi y/n!"
you enter in the frame with a bright smile. "hi! I'm heeseung's girlfriend! surprising that he even knows a girl, right?" You giggle softly and heeseung only chuckles
"yeah yeah whatever...lets start today's stream shall we?" he jokingly rolls his eyes at your joke.
You look at the live chat that was moving at a face pace — you could tell that his fans were very much excited in meeting you.
After the stream ended, you very much had a whole fanbase — and heeseung? well, he's just there. fans eventually found your instagram account (you didn't mind, of course) and immediately started thirsting over you — boy was heeseung having a field day after revealing you to his fans
gamer bf! heeseung who does more streams with you in the background talking to him or engaging with his fans
gamer bf! heeseung who listens to you very attentively when you start speaking — to which fans start joking around how "down bad" he is for you (they aren't wrong, he looks at you with pure adoration)
gamer bf! heeseung who gets jealous (jokingly) when his fans start asking you to be their girlfriend instead
gamer bf! heeseung who starts beefing with his own fans, telling them to back off his girl
"chat shut up, y/n is mine and mine only!!" he says with pure sass in his voice. he knows it's a joke, of course, but it doesn't hurt to play along right? after all, you are his gorgeous girlfriend and not anyone else's.
besides all the jokes and jealously, when he has the opportunity to talk about you — he will. trust me. he will always have something to say about you — how pretty you are, how you always have the best outfits, how much he loves you — there was no denying that he was in love.
gamer bf! heeseung who sometimes lets you play his games as you sit on his lap, teaching you how to play
gamer bf! heeseung who praises you for playing so well — even if you died 300 times beforehand
gamer bf! heeseung who posts you on all his social medias
gamer bf! heeseung who makes his whole instagram account look like a fanpage for you
gamer bf! heeseung who goes shopping for a pc with you when you said you wanted to start playing games with him even if you weren't the best at games
gamer bf! heeseung who makes a minecraft server for you and his friends to play on — making it a series
gamer bf! heeseung who proposes to you in minecraft and plans a whole minecraft wedding for the both of you
gamer bf! heeseung who you do eventually end up marrying and having a happy life with
permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @kyoaeri @copyhanni @lilacnini
#my works! ˙✧˖⋆｡˚#⎯ 이희승 ( hee ) ㅤ✧ ࣪ 🐹#enhypen#enha#enhypen au#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha x reader#heeseung x reader#heeseung#lee heeseung#enhypen heeseung#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#heeseung smau#enhypen smau#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fake texts#heeseung smut#heeseung enha#heeseung texts#enhablr
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𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻
∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3
∘ ft: nanami & gojo
∘ word count: 2.7k
∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk
Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.
No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.
But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.
When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”
“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.
“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.
“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”
Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind.
“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.
“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”
Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?
“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.
“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.
“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.
That look never came.
“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.
“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”
The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”.
“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.
“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.
“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.
“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”
You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.
“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.
“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.
“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip.
“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.
“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.
“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?”
No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”
Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are.
“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight.
“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”
“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”
“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.
“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”
“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.
You fucking loved it.
You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.
“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.
Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.
“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.
“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.
“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.
“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.
“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.
“Not unless you beg for it.”
© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader smut#nanami kento#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru
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let me just say i am obsessed with your work and i have a small concept with pre-outbreak!joel that i’d like to share. you’re welcome to develop this as a full fic, a headcanon or even just discuss it.
joel has been dating you for a while, it’s his first serious relationship since sarah’s mom left and needless to say he’s very much in love. but being with you comes with a lot of pressure. as i said, it’s his first real relationship and he tries to be the absolute best partner for you. in the beginning you don’t pay attention to it because what you have is new and of course you do a lot to make it work but as time passes, you realize it’s a bit more serious than that.
he literally drives himself crazy trying to be the perfect partner. to the point where he’s stressing himself out or feeling guilty about things that are either normal or out of his control. for example, let’s say it’s your birthday and he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. you happen to be late (maybe an issue with his car or traffic) and lose the reservation. it’s okay, you assure him it’s fine but he feels terrible and just trying to fix it. in a similar way, if you ever have an argument and you decide to leave to clear your mind, it will bring the worst anxiety out of him. it’s all small things that pile up until you realize that he’s actually terrified he isn’t enough because if he wasn’t enough to make the mother of their child stay, why would you?
you can choose how you work it out so he feels more secure in the relationship or tell me what you think of this, i’d love to hear your opinion 🙂
AN | Okay but this is so soft and heartbreaking at the same time. But there is a happy ending! Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.7k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel was standing on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet in his hand. He felt like he was shaking and sweating and going to throw up all at once. Needless to say he was nervous. It had been so long since he’d been on a date, let alone a first date. And not just any first date, but a first date with you.
You, that had almost knocked him over, literally and metaphorically, in the grocery store and left him feeling like a scared teenager. You’d been the one to ask him out, in fact, but he was still somehow convinced that you’d made some kind of mistake or were going to change your mind.
He rocked back and forth on his heels for a few moments as he listened for your footsteps. When he heard you unlock the door and slowly open it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.
“Joel,” your pretty lips pulled in a big smile as you looked him over, “you’re here!”
“Of course I am,” he replied sweetly, a soft twang to his warm drawl, “did you think I wouldn’t show up?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted sheepishly, your face growing warm, “men are weird sometimes…even more so when it’s a woman asking a man out. But I’m so glad you’re here.”
“You look beautiful,” he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten or how pretty you were. You were wearing a pretty little sundress and that alone was enough to cause his mind to practically spiral; he was just a mere mortal man and even he was not immune to the effect of a sundress. He pulled himself together to hand you the flowers that were still tightly clutched in his hand, “these are for you.”
“They’re lovely,” you took them gently, your fingers brushing against his, “thank you so much. No one’s given me flowers in so long, this is so kind.”
“They reminded me of you, bright and pretty,” maybe he wasn’t totally terrible at this after all.
“Come on in for a moment while I put these in some water,” you moved back inside and motioned for him to follow you. He slowly followed you inside, looking around your humble abode to try and get a good feel for you, “so, have you decided what we’re going to do this evening?”
“I have a few things in mind,” he grinned, a little half smile that made your heart speed up a little bit as you quickly moved to set the flowers into a vase with fresh water, “I can tell you or you can be surprised.”
“Surprise me,” you set the flowers on the counter and looked at him sweetly.
“Surprise it is.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me a lot, Joel Miller,” you grabbed your purse and he shot you a cheeky little wink, “I look forward to it.”
“Me too, sweetheart, me too.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel Miller couldn’t believe his luck. It had been a year, a whole ass year, since the two of you had gone on your first date. That might have been one of the best days of his life, topped only by the birth of his daughter. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and knew that he wanted to ask you to marry him.
But there was still some remaining doubt that kept nagging at the back of his mind.
A part of him was always waiting for you to realize that he didn’t deserve you and to leave. Not that you’d done anything to ever suggest that was going to happen but still. He thought about it…a lot. He’d felt like a complete failure when his wife had left him and their daughter when she was only a few months old without so much as a proper explanation. If the woman he’d loved and married, the mother of his daughter, didn't want anything to do with him, why would anyone else? And what did he have to offer anyway? Nothing. Not in his mind anyway.
And he loved you, so much. He would do anything to keep you in his life. So he threw himself into everything he did; he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, even if it all but killed him.
You appreciated everything he did for you, so much and all the things he did were definitely not lost on you. At first it didn’t really hit you just how much he was driven to perfection until you started to see some of the cracks in the facade.
It happened one night when you were over at Joel’s house for dinner with him, Sarah, and Tommy that you noticed something was off. Joel had seemed so tense and distracted since you’d arrived. You’d made it to the Miller household a little earlier than you had initially told them in order to help finish up dinner and get everything set up.
Sarah had answered the door and let you in with a big hug before you made your way into the kitchen. You adored the girl, and her father, and you were happy that she seemed to like you too. You weren’t trying to force your way into her life, but let her welcome you at her own pace. It had only been her and Joel for pretty much her entire life so you were sure that this was a whole new world for her too.
“Hi baby,” you grinned as you walked into the kitchen, setting down the desserts you’d brought. Joel turned around and his entire face dropped when he realized it was you. Ouch. That managed to sting a little bit, “everything alright?”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he looked at his watch and ran a hand through his messy hair, “for almost another hour!”
“I finished earlier than I thought at work,” you shrugged lightly, “and thought I’d come over to help. I didn’t think it was a big deal…I can go if that’s better?”
“No - no,” he insisted softly, “no, I’m glad you’re here, it’s just that nothing’s ready. It’s not set for you yet.”
“You don’t have to do all the work silly man,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “let me help. I’m more than happy to - I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you whispered as you decided to hug him; he looked like he could use a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly to his broad frame, “just let me know what I can do to help, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, allowing himself a moment to bury his face in your neck and to breathe your warm scent in. When he pulled back, you kissed him sweetly, “okay.”
Once you had everything squared away and ready, Joel ran upstairs to shower and change, leaving you and Sarah to set the table. She looked at you for a moment before quietly saying, “he really likes you, you know?”
“I do,” you smiled softly, “I really like him too.”
“He’s never been with anyone since I was born,” she scooted over to you so there wasn’t a chance for Joel to overhear, “I don’t even remember my mom; she just up and left when I was a baby. But I’ve always had my dad. And it’s nice to see him happy ‘cause he deserves it.”
“Oh,” your expression softened, “he told me it’s been the two of you but never went into what happened.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. I never had the chance to know my mom so it never really bothered me. But I know my dad really likes you, he’s been so happy lately it’s kinda gross. He’s trying really hard. He just wants you to be happy too.”
“I am really happy, Sarah,” you promised, “and I want your dad to be as well. I love him a lot and you both mean a lot to me.”
“This is too sappy,” she snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes playfully, “but…you mean a lot to me too. Just so you know.”
“Don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep it between us,” you shot her a wink, causing her to giggle softly, “you mean a lot to me too.”
“What are you whispering about, huh?” Joel came back downstairs and into the kitchen, his eyes flitting between the two of you, “planning a mutiny?”
“Duh, old man,” Sarah pushed past him, and Joel raised an eyebrow.
He was just joking around, mostly, but he was also panicking internally - just mildly but still. It was there. His first thought was that somehow the two of you were talking about him…but not in a flattering way. What if you were telling Sarah you were tired of him? What if you were telling her that you were planning on breaking up with him? What if you told her that -
“Joel?” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He blinked a few times as he snapped back into reality before looking at you, “where’d you go, space cadet?”
“Just zoned out,” he offered you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you insisted, “it’s been a long day, I’m sure tired as well. We’ll call it an early night tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, heart constricting at your gentle nature. You were always so sweet and kind but he still found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop, “sounds good, sweetheart.”
“I love you,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it, “a lot.”
“I love you too,” he hoped you never stopped saying that. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. He was going to try his damndest to keep you in his life forever.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I can’t believe it,” Joel shook his head as he looked at the maitre’d, “it’s only fifteen minutes! You can’t tell me that you don’t have a table available anymore.”
“I’m sorry sir, the reservation was for 6:30 and we have a ten minute policy for being tardy,” he remained calm but you could see that Joel was only growing more annoyed, “as you can see we’re very busy.”
“I made these reservations three months ago-”
“I’m sorry, sir. That’s our policy,” you put your hand on Joel’s arm and squeezed it gently. He looked at you with a deep frown on his face.
“It’s alright,” you promised him, voice gentle and soft, “we can go somewhere else, it’s no big deal.”
“Fine,” he huffed after a moment and turned on his heel to leave. You offered the man a small smile as you followed your boyfriend out the door. He immediately started walking to the truck, leaving you to trail after him in his wake, “this is fucking ridiculous.”
You flinched as he slammed his door against the side of the truck, “Joel. I need you to calm down. It’s really not a big deal - I don’t care where we go, I just want to spend time with you.”
“But it’s your birthday,” he hissed, “it should be nice. I had this all planned out and I fucked up and made us lose the reservation.”
“Hey,” you slowly took a step closer to him, “do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect for you,” his shoulders slumped as he looked at you with misty eyes. Clearly there was a lot more going on underneath the surface, “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“W-what?” you looked at him in confusion, wondering where that train of thought had suddenly come from. You reached up and out your hand on his cheek, gently brushing away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks, “why on earth would I leave you? That has never crossed my mind.”
“I want to give you everything, you deserve it but I feel like I can’t give it to you,” he pressed his hand gently onto yours, “sometimes I wonder why you’re with a loser like me.”
“Joel,” he hated, and loved, how gently you always managed to say his name. You always had such a tender way about you, “I have never once thought you were a loser. Never. I love you, silly man, so much. You’re perfect to me - for me. Why would you even think that I would feel like that?”
“I couldn’t even get the mother of my kid to hang around. She up and left and sent divorce papers and left us,” he sighed softly, “sometimes I wonder how long it’ll be before you get tired of me as well.”
“I’m not her. I’m me,” you reminded him gently, “I’m never going to get tired of you. Oh my gosh, you don’t know how much I adore you, do you? Joel, no one has ever been as good and kind to me as you have. I look forward to spending time with you even if its just at home watching a movie. When we’re apart I look forward to seeing you. Not because of things like fancy dinners or grand gestures or whatever - not that I don’t love those - but because I love being around you. It’s because of you, not anything else. We could have nothing but as long I have you, and Sarah, it’s more than enough. It’s everything.”
Joel looked at you, trying to make sure he’d heard everything you’d said correctly and you weren’t about to laugh at him. When he saw the soft smile on your face, the tender way you were looking at him, he knew that you weren’t joking. He nodded slowly, sniffling before whispering, “I love you.”
“I know you do,” you promised, “you’ve never once given me a reason to doubt that. I love you too, Joel.”
“I know,” he reached for your hand, hesitantly and gently, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ve never given me a reason to doubt that either.”
“Good,” you squeezed his hand gently, “I think we’re on the same page, right?”
“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “we are.”
“If you ever have any doubt, just let me know and I’ll remind you just how much I love you. But…does that mean we can go and get dinner? Some McDonalds fries sound amazing right now.”
“You want to go to McDonalds? On your birthday?” That was one of the many things he loved about you - you weren’t pretentious or picky or anything. You were just you.
“Are you going to go with me?”
“Obviously,” he snorted in amusement, shaking his head fondly at you.
“Then hell yeah,” you teased, “let’s go and get tons of McDonalds and go home and watch a movie. That sounds perfect.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you. He buckled your seatbelt for you before leaning in to kiss you gently, “happy birthday baby.”
“Thank you,” you made sure to steal another kiss from him, “I love you, Joel Miller.”
“I love you. So much.”
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#tlou#pedro pascal
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𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃a continuation from the rafe and puppy universe…(click me) ࣪
rafe doesn’t always treat puppy!reader so nicely. infact, sometimes she really tests his patience.
he drags you through the front door to tannyhill with a hand wrapped around your arm — thick gold rings wound round his fingers undoubtedly leaving bruises in their wake as he yanks you inside. you can’t keep up with his long strides, tripping over and having the eldest cameron repeatedly carry the entirety of your weight with his hand everytime you stumbled— wrenching you back to your feet.
whilst this occurs, he lectures you through grit teeth — at the end of his tether. “what’d i tell you huh? what’d i fuckin’ tell you ‘bout manners?” he asks and you’re not sure if it’s rhetorical, letting him march you up the stairs to his bedroom.
“its no big deal—” you hiccup through pained whines as you try to pull away from his stern grip, only making him tighten it.
“nah, nah — you knew exactly what you were doing at the country club. running that mouth when i — i specifically told you to behave today.”
there had been a very high class event, ward forcing rafe to take you along to get you accustomed to the kook-lifestyle after so long of slumming it at the other side of the island. you were ditsy, but not dumb — you saw the way the camerons looked at you, with pity — like you simply weren’t made for this world. thats why you got so attached to rafe, he didn’t pity you. it was tough love, so you assumed — the boy constantly lecturing and berating you but would be the first to save you from any potentially damaging or dangerous situations, and god forbid anyone spoke to you as poorly as he did.
the afternoon was unsavable from the start. you may have been responsible for the large chocolate fountain at the food table falling, you’d accidentally insulted the president of the country club to his face, you’d mistakenly smeared food on the back of rafe’s shirt, and when rafe was rightfully lecturing you for that — you bit him. you bit him infront of one of the important businessmen he had been trying to impress. you understood his anger for once, you’d messed up.
he tosses you onto his bed making you stumble onto it, turning around to watch the way the boy angrily rifles through his dresser drawers, furiously continue to ramble at you. “you know i’ve been saving this, yeah — saving this from when you really messed up. ‘cos i knew you would. you’re a pogue, and you’ll always be one. and — and i’ve been here, tryna look after the runt of the litter — and yet you still disrespect me.” he shakes his head and you watch forlornly, watching him find what he was looking for and begin to pull it out.
“well you wanna run that mouth? wanna— wanna bite me in public? i’m gonna have t’treat you like the dirty pogue puppy you are— okay? didnt wanna have to do this kid but you leave me no choice. s’gotta be me to discipline you, alright? c’mere.” in his hand, you instantly recognise to be some form of muzzle. like the type you’d see on a dog, but this time perfectly crafted to fit a female face. you’d had no idea where he’d got such a cruel item, he had to have had it custom made just to shut you up, a sick fantasy he’d been sitting on. you cower, and he’s unphased.
he undoes the buckles on the side so that he can put it on you, but not before yanking your hands to his belt and leaving them there. “undo this. you’re gonna wear this, n’then you’re gonna let me take what i want from you. a’ight? i’m in charge. you’re gonna learn your damn lesson whether you like it or not.”
you whine as you obey him, trembling fingers fumbling for his belt. the worst part about this, was that you couldn’t deny your arousal. the manhandling, the degrading — you were a sensitive girl, who had sensitive needs, but something about the boy you had such a crush on, the same boy who would deny reluctantly cuddling you to sleep when you had a bad dream that one time, treating you so mean was making your cunt ache with need.
“i’m not gonna bite, i just want to kiss again.” you wail weakly as he brings the muzzle to your face, scoffing out a chuckle that read directly as ‘fat fucking chance’. rafe had kissed you a few times. moments of weakness. he couldn’t deny his feelings for you but — well, actually yes he could. he did deny his feelings for you, and often too. he was head over heels and he didn’t like that.
“kiss? you— you think you deserve a kiss after the way you behaved today?” once the muzzle is fastened and you’re staring up at him with big watery puppy dog eyes, he finishes up with yanking off his belt and undoing his zipper, trying to ignore how your pitiful expression looked. rafe was mean but he wasn’t an idiot— he knows you didn’t mean to be the way you were. you were innocent, naive — but god if taking advantage of that didn’t get him off.
his heart twinges at the sorry look on your face so he flips you over onto your front on the bed, body sprawled out and bouncing from the force. “nah…” he answers his own question as he tugs your dress up your back to reveal your soaked through panties between trembling thighs. he thumbs at the wet patch above where your hole sits meanly, scoffing. “you’re gonna shut up and take this dick. maybe then you’ll get your damn kiss.”
#tw dubcon#rafe cameron prompt#he’s very mean here i warn you#puppy!reader#for the rafe n pup universe
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do you write for chenle? if so could i request angry sex with chenle? and plotwise/anything else can be up to you, you always make such creative works 😍
desert island | zcl
boyfriend!chenle x fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.
a/n: sorry for being so late, anon 😭! ofc i write for chenle, how could i not?! thank you for the kind words, i hope you like it!! 😚
cw: smut, use of 'whore' (only once), hair pulling, slighty spanking, begging, reader is DRAMATIC, chenle is kinda mean, petnames.
honestly, you can't think of a better partner than chenle. he's always so sweet, caring, and considerate, and you could talk for days about every single thing you love about him because you really love him a lot.
the same applies to chenle, who thinks you're so perfect for him. every time he wakes up and looks at you beside him in bed, he can't help but think how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side.
arguments in your relationship were rare, but not non-existent. like any kind of relationship between two people, disagreements occasionally arose.
you generally handle them with a mature conversation about the issue once the dust has settled, addressing the problem and coming to a mutually-agreed solution. however, sometimes, you both seem to be unable to agree on a resolution to the problem at hand. that was the case now.
it was a real stupid argument. you were released from work early and figured it would be a good idea to stop by the studio to see chenle and head home with him. as it turns out, it was a surprise when you showed up without prior warning, but he was happy to see you and it made your visit all the more meaningful.
during chenle's break time, the dreamies were engaged in a light and silly conversation about "who would you take to a deserted island." it was an innocent little game to pass the time and have some fun. when it was chenle's turn to answer, he surprised you by not choosing you, but one of his staff’s. this simple and seemingly harmless choice was the root of your trivial fight.
you didn't react immediately, simply laughed it off as if it was nothing but chenle could tell that something was off the moment you both got into the car. the car ride was unusually silent on your end, and chenle began to brace himself as he realized you were upset about something. he mentally prepared himself for whatever he felt was about to come as you walked through the front door.
"so..." he began in a gentle but careful tone, sensing there was an underlying issue you weren't being open about.
"nothing," you casually responded with a shrug, walking off and towards the bedroom. "it's nothing," you repeated again, but he wasn't fooled by your tone.
following close behind you, he asked another question, "is it me? did i do something to upset you?" he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, wanting to get to the bottom of the problem.
"no" was all the response you gave him, short and sharp just like before. as you continued into the bedroom and began to tidy up the already clean room, he leaned casually against the doorframe and observed you closely. he didn't say a word because he knew he would just have to wait until the "you know what's funny?" and there it was, your signature phrase for when you're in a bad mood, spoken in a slightly annoyed tone. he knew this would be coming.
"no," he said calmly and crossed his arms, looking directly at you and watching you make some futile attempts to find anything out of place in the already immaculate room. "please, enlighten me," his gaze intent as he awaited the inevitable moment of venting that always ensued after that phrase.
"of course you wouldn't," you replied back, feigning innocent ignorance and even rolling your eyes as you dramatically shook your head and sighed. "i didn't expect you to have kept a list of all the female entertainers you would consider taking to a desert island. so why don't you enlighten me on your priorities?”
for a moment, chenle's eyebrows were raised in a mix of confusion and slight surprise as he heard your words, genuinely believing that you were joking or being sarcastic. then came his soft laugh, as he was almost incredulous that you kept up this attitude with your arms crossed and a serious expression. "baby," he spoke gently but firm as a warning, "you can't be serious right now. it was an innocent little game that you shouldn't take so seriously.”
"oh really?” your words laced with mockery. “an innocent little game? then it shouldn't bother you to explain to me why i wasn't even on your radar. it was a stupid game but your answers just proved to me that i'm an afterthought, even in your fantasies. at least in your fantasy of the women you'd be willing to take to a godforsaken place with no hope for escape. so am i so insignificant that i didn't even make the cut for you?”
chenle pauses for a second to process the situation and your words, running his hand through his hair in an almost unconscious gesture of self-soothing. if he didn't know you better, he would've thought you were crazy, but after that incident with the stupid "worm" question, he knows that you're just dramatic.
he approaches you, cupping your face in his warm hands as he gazes at you.
"baby, please," he pleads, the affection evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. "look at me," he says softly, using his palms to gently guide your eyes to focus on him. once your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze deepens as his expression softens and his voice grows more gentle. "this was just an innocent game and you're blowing it out of proportion. please don't be like this. i love you and you know it. there's no other woman that compares to the love i have for you, not in a thousand lifetimes would i ever take anyone else over you. you're mine and always will be.”
even though you could sense the sincerity and love behind his words, you maintained a guarded demeanor, refusing to give in to it until you were completely satisfied with his explanation.
you know, you had a sharp tongue and an even sharper intelligence than some could imagine when you chose to use it. unfortunately, this was a time where the first worked, but the second didn't.
“well, it seems that you just have to be on a desert island to fool around with someone else, right? you just want to enjoy some fun and pleasure while away from the world,” your tone became sarcastic as you continued challenging his words and reasoning. “so who are you going to enjoy it with?”
your thoughtless words brought you to this moment. one of chenle's hands was intertwined between the strands of your hair in a tight grip, pushing your head against the softness of the mattress, forcing you to stay with you ass up. your eyes slightly red, your face puffy and wet, both from sweat and crying.
“fucking. stubborn. whore,” he spit out, each of his words was accompanied by sharp thrusts that made your bones shake and you gasp, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “can't listen to what i say for not even a damn minute,” he slapped your ass hard, making you whine and your eyes water again.
you lost track of time during this torment. it felt like torturous hours, where he kept teasing, edging you, not even letting you touch him, your ass was already marked by his hands, you felt the sting of each spank he gave, saying that brats like you don't deserve to feel good.
chenle knows you with the palm of his hands, he knows what you like, what makes you melt and he would definitely use it against you. his slow but powerful thrusts hit all the right spots that make you see stars behind your eyelids, his hand slipping between your legs to rub your clit in equally slow circles.
“…. ase…” your tiny, teary voice echoed through his ears. “oh?” he scoffs, pulling you by your hair until you were close enough for him to whisper in your ear. “i can't hear you, say it again,” his warm tongue sliding through your neck, sending you goosebumps.
“p-please…” you raised your tone slightly. “i'm so, so sorry, chenle,” the desperation and pleading in your voice is obvious, as is the remorse that you felt for your actions. “please, please, let me cum, please, just once, please,” the need seeping through every word, begging for relief and satisfaction.
a smug grin crept up his face when he heard your desperate tone. he loved how hopeless you sounded. he loosened his grip on your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he stopped his thrusts to savor the moment. his hand moved away from your clit to held your cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth, completely taking over the kiss.
your emotional state was so volatile right now that you honestly felt like crying. chenle knew that you loved kissing him, and by constantly pushing you away, he knew it was torturing you. your attempts at kissing him were met with a painful slap to your cunt, almost as punishment for trying to force yourself on him.
this simple yet deeply cherished kiss was enough to make you melt completely. you were yearning to feel this level of affection again after he kept pushing you away from him, it was all you were craving since he pushed you down onto the bed and shoved his cock inside your pussy.
as he pulled away from your lips, leaving you desperate for more, he let out a short, breath laugh at your reaction. he found it amusing how you chased after him to continue the kiss, but he was quick to remind you who was in control here by just pulling on your hair to keep you in place, making you whine pathetically.
"well," he purred against your ear, moving his hand caressingly over your body. he made lazy circles on your soft skin, lingering on your belly, you suddenly felt him be a lot more gentle. "since you asked so nicely, should i give you what you want, baby?" he raised an eyebrow teasingly as he waited for a response from you and all you could do was nod fiercely, letting small pleas of "yes, please" roll off your tongue as you awaited his move.
chenle hummed, feigning deep thought as he observed your face. He worked hard to maintain his composure and keep from showing his mischievous, devilish smile as he saw the light of hope that your expression lit up. "okay," he said finally, "i think you seemed remorseful enough,” his words were enough to bring a jolt of excitement to your system, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins and every single muscle in your body tensed up, waiting intently for him to give you what you wanted.
with a light kiss on your lips, he turned you over and positioned you so you were laying on your back. hands that had recently been mistreating you were now caressing your body delicately, as if you were the most delicate thing ever made. his kisses traced your jawline before moving to your neck and breasts, making you think that the wait had been worth it. the punishment had ended here and he made you believe that the only thing you deserved now was his gentle touch and loving kisses.
he straightened his back, the movement causing his hands to move from your sides to the back of your thighs. in one swift motion, he lifted your legs and pressed your knees against your chest, and the sharp sob that escaped your lips was all the confirmation he needed that he has you right where he wanted you.
you felt his tip teasing your clit and your entrance, your pussy glistening from how wet you already were, his hard cock sliding inside you without any difficulty, your warm, gummy walls welcoming him as he filled any remaining space in your pussy.
“you feel so good, don't you?” his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and a low grunt slipped past his lips as he threw his head back slightly in a gesture of complete relaxation. he would never tire of this feeling that was almost overwhelming at this point. this applied to you as well, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moaned softly, feeling just how deep inside of you he was.
“you feel so damn good,” he whispered in a low, husky tone as he begins to thrust into you relentlessly, his tip kissing your cervix every time his hips slammed back into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling.
he increased the pace, leaning closer towards you. the full weight of his body was now pressing onto you, keeping you down and pinned to the bed but there's no resistance from you as you are simply overwhelmed by his size and intensity.
he had been playing with you for such a long time that it didn't take very much effort at all to push you over the edge. your moaning and whimpering got louder, your body tense and your breathing more shallow. your voice was coming out in a pitch that was nearly unrecognizable, with a few "thank you's" and some other incoherent words escaping your lips, your pussy clenching around him—he recognized this as the ultimate sign that you were approaching your orgasm.
“are you close, baby?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. “y-ye—” you were interrupted again by another hard thrust that made you let out a soft yelp. he grunted as he felt your muscles clenching around him once more, gripping him tightly. “c-chenle,” you mewled his name, “i-i’m gonna c-cu—”
before you could finish your sentence, he was quick to pull out of you, releasing the grip on your legs, making you let out a soft whine in disbelief when he pulled out without letting you finish, and all you could do was lie there as a deep emptiness washed over your body, your walls now clenching around nothing. you look at him with wide, teary eyes and trembling lips.
chenle’s grin widens when he watched your expression, a look of disappointment on your face as you realized you didn't get to cum as he made you think. he was satisfied in the knowledge that he had denied you the satisfaction you wanted and was pleased with how desperate and frustrated you were looking at him.
"aww, is my baby about cry? " he mocked you, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he reached out to wipe away the tear-filled eyes that now betrayed you. his hand lightly traced the curve of your face, moving slowly and tauntingly, as if he was enjoying your helpless reaction far too much. “that’s what you get for acting like a spoiled little brat,” his voice filled with condescension as watched how your emotional state seemed to sink lower and lower as a result of his words.
"you thought i would just let you have it your way?” he scoffed and shook his head at your naivety. "i thought you would know better by now, baby," his voice taking on a false empathetic edge as he leaned in closer. his voice became softer, his lips pressing lovingly against yours for a quick peek. "aww, no, no, don't cry," he echoed the soothing words with another kiss, teasingly brushing away the tears with his finger. "if you beg good enough, i might give you what you want."
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Wait until i got you in my hands (or in this case under my jaw 🦈)
Anyway since you're asking fluff for Simon (and i hope you don't twist it in the end because I'll trust you for this once and you're not Chucky), what about Simon having cuteness aggression, everybody? Mmhm you have chubby face and it's undeniable fact that they sometimes look like dumpling or steamed buns. Just Simon can't keep his hands from touching or pinching your cheeks, and even better if he also bit them.
mercy plss sharkieeee 🦈 as always ty for the ideas tho 💖 happy to see u again!!!
Simon loves your chubby and adorable face
1.
“What Simon? Why you keep staring at me?”
“dumplings”
“what dumplings?”
“your cheeks.”
“huh?...SIMON STOP CHEWING MY CHEEK—$;@/!@;&”
2.
You two are lying on your shared bed. You’re facing him and scrolling your phone, too concentrated on the fanfic you’re reading that you haven’t notice Simon’s gaze on your face.
“...” you expression’s same as straight face emoji when your lover abruptly pinches your cheeks.
“sorry.” he says without any apology in his tone while kneading your cheeks.
“My face isn’t mochi, Simon.”
“I know.”
“Then can you stop rubbing them like they are?”
“No.”
3.
A nice Sunday morning, peaceful, and you leisurely walk to the living room, expecting seeing Simon there as usual.
“Good morning, baby.” You greet him immediately when you see his figure, his back’s facing you, seeming busy doing something.
“Hey, love.” He gives you a kiss on your cheek like he always do, but he sounds a bit of excited today.
“What do we have for breakfast?”
“I make a you.”
“What does that mean?”
You lean closer to him when he hands you the plate.
“This is you.”
“...”
You don’t even want to argue when you see two little buns are placing at each side of a smiling face egg that’s grinning at you.
4.
Simon gets kicked out to buy the groceries after the breakfast.
“He better remember to buy some ice cream for me” You mumble.
Well, he does keep that in mind when he comes back an hour later.
“Got you some ice creams.” Simon tells you while fishing them out under your expecting eyes.
“New brand?” You pick up the carton when you can’t recognize the brand of it.
“...Simon.”
“It looks like you, it’s cute.” He doesn’t forget to give your cheeks a few pokes whilst you staring at the rabbit mascot on the box with two obviously chubby cheeks.
5.
(later, Simon texting)
Ghost: Soap, how to apologize to your partner
Soap: what did you do to them LT.?
Ghost: I just showed my love to their cheeks
Soap: Not you anger them with same reason again
Soap: Send some cute pictures to them and buy them some snacks?
Ghost: Can I send this?
Soap: I guess you just want to die, LT.
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