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getitoutofmymindwrites · 2 days

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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

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FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

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

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

Then you remember.

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

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

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

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

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

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

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

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

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

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean about the therapy?”

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh? What did she say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you certainly delivered.

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

“I can’t do this-”

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

“-tonight.”

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

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

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

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

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

Can we talk?

Yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

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

Joel looks at you perplexed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

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

You let him, because you are a weak person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you insist?”

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

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

“I didn’t want you to.”

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

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

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

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

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him.

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

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Ridiculous..”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

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

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

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

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03

@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin

@sofiparallel

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buttdumplin · 2 days

Text

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

CW: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 x latine reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #i cannot emphasize the poly of this enough #this is truly some of the most self indulgent shit i've ever written and i've never been happier lmao #honestly this is just precious moments with each of them #i'm definitely going to be writing more 141 x latine reader #prepare to be fucking sick of me #frfr tho this is the first long thing i've written in years and ngl it feels good to be doing it again #also yeah i tend to sprinkle in commas like they're condiments

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starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies · 2 days

Text

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

Writing Masterlist

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #stars writes #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

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lqveharrington · 2 days

Text

Take A Break | V.

summary: it’s your daughter’s birthday, but Vox isn’t able to spare anytime for her.

pairing: Vox x Overlord!reader

includes: Vox has a normal head guys, fluff, HEAVY angst, family issues, arguing, mentions of sex tapes, Valentino being a weird ass uncle, over protective parents, cursing, mentions of murder (i think that’s it, tell me if i missed any!)

a/n: honestly, this request made me think of hamilton the musical, hence the title of the one-shot. 🤷‍♀️ (also full credits to the artist on X!)

As an Overlord in Hell, your life was somewhat easier than normal sinners. You had their souls under your belt for your own use and powers that only those ranked attained. You attended boring meetings with the other Overlords, but you didn’t think you would meet your other half during these meetings, nonetheless, marry him. As a result of the marriage, both your powers grew stronger, along with the power of his company since a new face joined.

Down the line, you somehow ended up pregnant. Was it highly impossible to have a child as a sinner? Absolutely. So the thought that you were to bear Vox’s child in Hell panicked you. However, he talked you through the entire process, ending with a healthy baby girl. She looked exactly like her father, except for the eyes. Her eyes resembled her mother’s in every shape and form.

Despite the phenomenon, you both cared for her. Well, mostly. You were the one staying in your penthouse in the Vee tower while Vox tended to his company’s needs. He worked endlessly and missed important events such as your daughter’s first steps, words, and laughter. You supposed he tried his best as he came back to you with gifts and kisses, but it never felt… right.

When your daughter’s thirteenth birthday came up, you expected him to stay home because it was a special birthday. It seemed like thirteen was your little family’s lucky number, so you thought it was an important event in his life for his only child to turn thirteen. Moreover, she finally became a teenager, which Vox deemed was old enough for him to take her out to watch the stars when she was younger.

“Happy Birthday, Vee.” You take your fingers through her black and red hair, kissing her temple. She smiled brightly up at you, pearly whites on display. “I know you’re excited, but you still have lessons to attend to.”

“I know.” She groaned, eyes flashing red for a second before settling. “Is Dad still up there?”

Your loving gaze faltered at the mention of her father, passing her the chocolate chip pancakes you made. “He’s at work already, baby. I’m sure he has something prepared for you when you get home.” You press another kiss to her head as you pull your phone out, squinting at the message Vox sent.

“Is it Dad?” Veronica murmured, twisting the fork in between her fingers.

“Don’t worry about it, yeah? It’s your birthday.” You slide your phone inside your pocket. “I’ll see you after your lessons?”

She hummed softly as you frowned, rubbing your temple. This was an important day for your daughter, and if Vox couldn’t remember the promise he made to her years ago, you weren’t prepared for the breakdown that was going to come from your new teenage daughter.

“Vox?” You enter his monitor room, blue light glasses steady on your face.

“My love?” He called back, eyes focusing on the rising and falling stocks in the industry. “What’s wrong?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging when he pulled you down into his lap. You pressed a kiss to his jaw when he glared at the screen, “Do you know what day it is?”

“Uh,” He glanced back at you before muttering a curse at the stocks, aggressively typing something out on his computer. “Tax day?”

You let out a sigh, “Love, it’s Veronica’s birthday.” You tilt your head when you don't get a response. “Vox.”

“What?” He whipped his head toward you, his blue eyes swirling black and red. You steady the glasses on your face, frowning at his tone. His eyes scan your face before rubbing his forehead, “Darling, I’m sorry. But I’m really busy today. All of our shareholders decided to be assholes today and Carmilla wants a meeting about Angelic Security.”

You cup his face and press a soft kiss to his lips, “I know, I got your text message about a twelve-hour workday.” Your gaze flickered over toward the frame displayed on his desk, “But it’s our baby’s thirteenth birthday. She was looking for her dad earlier, and she didn’t—“

His phone rang out into the intensely large monitor room, causing you to look back over to him. “Look, I’ll see if I can get out of the meeting and schedule it another day. I’ll be back before the day’s over.”

“Do you promise?” You lift your pinky, the blue and red chain appearing from your wedding band connecting to his.

He lifted his pinky, locking it with yours. “I promise, gorgeous.” His phone rang out again as you leaned in to give him a kiss, raising a brow at the device. Vox chuckled at your reaction, rubbing his thumb over your lip. “I love you, but I have people to yell at, so kindly leave.” He tapped your thigh before answering his phone.

You pressed one last kiss to his cheek before stepping away from him, humming a tune while he yelled at whoever was on the other line. The link of chains connecting the two wedding bands never meant a deal was brought up, it merely signified the marriage. However, that promise meant more than just canceling a meeting and heading back home. It meant actually showing up for his daughter, saying that he didn’t forget about his promise from years ago.

“Hi, baby.” You kiss Veronica’s temple as she passes the kitchen with bags in her arms. “What’s all that?”

“Uncle Val and Aunt Velvette gave me presents.” She grinned, shoving them down on the kitchen counter.

You raise a brow at the size difference of the gifts, “And what did Aunt Vel get you?”

“She got me every single new item on her new line before she drops it.” She pulled out a t-shirt that you thought was inappropriate for a girl her age. Neatly folding it, she pulled out another article of clothing, a short skirt that would have you and Vox murdering people left and right.

“Right…” You gently take away the clothes and set them to the side, nodding your head toward the box. “What did Uncle Val get you?”

“He told me to give you this before opening the gift.” She handed you a card decorated with intricate details.

You unfold the card, eyes widening at the contents. “Can I take the movies Uncle Val gave you? I don’t think they’re for you, baby.”

“Wait what? Why not?”

“Because it’s not… don’t worry about it.” You snap your fingers, sending the box of movies to your shared bedroom with Vox. Your face was flushed from Valentino handing your daughter physical copies of the videos that were personal to you and Vox. It would have been chaos if you watched the videos together with no warning. “Never mind about that, how were your lessons?”

“Boring as usual.” She rested her head on her hand, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “Did you talk to dad?”

“Yes,” You set down the dinner you were preparing, wiping your hands on a hand towel. “He’ll be back soon. He had… stuff to do.” You waved your hand in the air, face contorting in tension. “Can you set up the dining table for dinner? I’ll call your dad to see where he is.”

Veronica groaned before begrudgingly moving away, grabbing the plates and utensils. You watched her leave before leaning your arms against the counter, head tilting down in exhaustion. Not only were you running around the tower checking in on your business, but you also prepared the gifts for your daughter while checking in on your husband’s vitals once in a while. Everything was rushed and disorganized, and the only thing your daughter wanted was for her father to be there for her birthday and fulfill his promise.

“Fuck.” You quickly wipe the tear slipping down your face, pulling out your phone. Clicking on Vox’s contact, you rub the ring on your finger, anxiously waiting for an answer.

“Yes?” His voice came through your phone, more agitated than usual.

“Vox, can you take a break and come up to us?” You start pacing, not realizing your daughter was behind the wall listening to you.

He muttered something as you heard the clicking of his keyboard through your speaker, “I’ll be there in a minute, can you save me a plate?”

“Vox, can you just—“ You run your hand through your hair as your eyes flash red, the same red consuming the items surrounding you. “I understand you’re busy, but your daughter hasn’t seen you all day.”

“Gorgeous, I heard you, but I have a very important deal I need to finish making then I’m all yours, okay?” He spoke with impatience, sighing when he heard silence from your end. “In a minute.”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes and end the call, dropping your phone onto the counter. You blink a few times to get rid of the red, everything around you falling back to its original placement.

“Mom, we can just celebrate with the two of us.” Veronica came around the doorway, fiddling with her fingers. “If dad is busy, I don’t want to—“

“Baby, it’s your birthday.” You push your hair back and pull a strained smile. The look you gave your daughter was almost dangerous, reverting back to your Overlord setting. “If your dad doesn’t show up before the day is over, I will physically go down to his office and remove him from this Hell.”

Her eyes widened at your words, “Mom—“

“Let’s go eat dinner, yes?” You leave a kiss on the top of her head.

Eventually, Vox did appear, but only for a few minutes before his phone began to ring again. He sighed, pressing his lips in a thin line, and got up, squeezing your shoulder and giving his daughter an apologetic look. The worst part about meeting his daughter’s eyes was the similar feeling of knowing how she felt.

Veronica projected a recognizable emotion through her eyes, something he could tell from miles away because it was the exact same look you gave him when it was just the two of you.

Disappointment.

“Vox, what the hell are you still doing here?” Valentino entered the monitor room, pink smoke billowing from his cigarette.

“Better question, what the fuck were you going to do in here?” Vox rolled his neck as he filed another claim against older companies.

Valentino chuckled, “Don’t worry about that… If I were you, I would be worried about your daughter. Velvette and I already sang Happy Birthday to your precious girl over cake. I'm sure she would have been happier if her daddy was there.”

Vox slouched in his chair, “Val, I’m almost done with these files then I’ll head up.”

“Oh, I would be careful.” He blew pink smoke across Vox’s face. “Your wife has her Overlord filter on tonight. It’s worse than before.”

“What do you mean?” Vox submitted the file to the HR department, taking his blazer and tossing it across his shoulder.

“She’s going to murder you, Voxy.” He bared his teeth at him. “You have a lot to make up tonight.”

Vox squinted his eyes at the moth before sighing, “Get the fuck out of my room or I’m having my wife come and murder you herself instead of me.”

“Scary.” Valentino grinned maliciously before leaving, a trail of pink smoke following.

Oh, Vox knew how much shit he was in when he returned home. After all, it was already 11:26 PM and he doubted that neither you nor Veronica were still awake. He teleported into the kitchen, setting the blazer on top of the counter before following the noise to the living area. He caught a movie on the television screen as he approached the couch, gaze softening at the sight. You were holding Veronica in your arms as she slept sprawled along the couch.

He caught your gaze a few seconds later, watching your tired eyes harden. “Do you know what time it is?”

“I know, but a lot was happening downstairs with VoxTek and—“

“You couldn’t hold that off for one day?” You whisper-shout in his direction as your daughter shifts around. “Vee was waiting all day for you to take her to see the constellations of Hell, and you broke it, Vox! I don’t understand how you could just leave her with a broken promise—“

“Gorgeous, it’s not the end of the day. I can still make it up to her.”

“And what? Wake her up from the day she’s had? Vox, she’s been waiting for this moment since she was five, and you couldn’t spare one second?” You feel your eyes flare red before realizing what's going on. Vox knew you had to calm down, and typically he would help, but it was clear you wanted nothing to do with him just yet. “You didn’t even say happy birthday this morning because you already left for work.” You carefully adjust Veronica in your arms, glaring at your husband. “I understand that the company is important for our image, but destroying a relationship with your own daughter for the company is never something you should do.”

Slowly, you carry your daughter in your arms, using some of your wisps to help carry her. Vox reaches out to help but you deny him, causing him to purse his lips. “Seriously?”

“I’m dead serious.” You crease your brows. “If you can’t understand how fucking important it is for our daughter to have both her parents present during important days, I promise you that I will make your life worse than living in Hell.” As you ascend the stairs leading up to Veronica’s room, you feel the burn of his stare hitting you. “And for the sake of your mental and physical health, please take a break from work. Your vitals have been dropping.”

The life you held in Hell seemed easier to those outside of the Tower, but the three of you knew that there was never a moment in time where you could be free of the constraints you were given, not allowing a single break of freedom or contentment.

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vbecker10 · 1 day

Text

You Are My Home

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: Loki leaves you for a month to visit Asgard with Thor and you are more then excited to welcome him home.

A/N: This is not what I'm supposed to be working on right now but I listened to the song linked below on the way home and the damn thing just wrote itself... enjoy 💚

In the two and a half years you and Loki have been together, this is by far the longest you have ever been apart. Loki would often spend a few days or even a week away on missions but today is day thirty without him. He and Thor returned to Asgard to take care of a political matter and you were both devastated to find out you would not be able to go with him. You had cried yourself to sleep in his arms the night before he left and you haven't slept a full night since.

You spent the whole day anxiously awaiting this moment, he is finally going to arrive any minute. Looking at yourself in the window, you check your makeup and hair for the hundredth time, wanting to look perfect for him. You smooth out the fabric on your favorite dress and smile, Loki bought it for you to wear for your first anniversary. It is a deep emerald green and fits your body as if it was made for you.

The wind picks up suddenly and your heart beats faster, you know instantly the Bifrost is opening. You turn away from the building and walk across the grass to wait closer to the open area where they will arrive. You can barely contain your excitement as the air around you buzzes. Lightning and streaks of bright colored lights pierce the thick clouds and burn into the dried grass behind the Avengers Compound.

You force yourself to stay where you are until the wind ties down and the lights fade. You see two tall figures standing in the center of a charred spiral.

"Loki!" your legs immediately carry you towards him.

"Y/N!" he answers, his voice full of joy as he quickly moves to meet you. He pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you easily off the ground as he spins, making you giggle. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his desperately, as if you are trying to make up for all of the kisses you two have missed out on in the last month.

"Gods, how I've missed you," he says when you break the kiss, he puts you down and keeps his arms around you.

"I missed you every second you were gone," you tell him honestly. "Promise me if you ever go home again, you'll take me with you."

He raises one hand to stroke your cheek lightly, "Asgard is many things, my dear, but I don't call it home anymore."

You look at him curiously and he smiles, "I was going to wait to do this until tonight but I don't want to wait another moment."

He looks over his shoulder at his older brother who smiles at you both and takes a few steps away.

You cover your mouth with your left hand as your heart pounds quickly in your chest. "Loki?" you barely whisper in disbelief as he take a small step away from you and gets down on one knee.

A small ring box appears in one hand with a green flash and he takes your right hand in his other hand.

"Y/N, home is where you are and every night I spent alone on Asgard was worth it to come back to you. You are my home, you are my everything when I feel alone. You are my shelter when all my hope is gone. You are my heart, you are the one I want to spend every minute of every day with. I love you with every fiber of my being," he says as he looks up at you. "Y/N, my love, my queen. Will you make me the happiest man in the nine realms by becoming my wife?"

"Yes! Yes," you say excitedly as Loki stands. "I love you," you tell him as he slips the most beautiful ring you have ever seen onto your finger.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods @jiyascepter @eleniblue

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swordsandholly · 11 hours

Note

def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333

make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))

I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way

But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader

“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”

“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!

You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.

You huff.

“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?

“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.

“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.

“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.

“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”

You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

“I’ll come by after work.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.

True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.

You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.

All or nothing.

“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.

“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.

Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.

Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.

“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.

“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.

You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?

“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.

“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.

“Yeah.”

“Like this?”

“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.

He huffs. “No.”

“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”

Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”

“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”

Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.

Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”

“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.

“Can you lean in a bit?”

“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.

“Perfect. Good girl.”

It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.

Fuck.

You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.

He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.

“Give it a try, luv.”

A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.

He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.

“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.

#answered #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost cod #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod #simon x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #fem reader

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danikamariewrites · 4 hours

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Babying Azriel Headcanon

Azriel x reader

A/n: just some hc about showing Az some love. I’ve missed writing just for Azzy so enjoy this

Warnings: none

In public and in front of the IC Azriel is very affectionate with you

He does not shy away from PDA

But behind closed doors this male CLINGS to you

Like he is so in love with you it’s not even funny and you make sure Az knows he is loved

You basically pavloved him into needing your touch

You always throw our self at him when he comes him, jumping into his arms and telling him how happy you are to have him home and in your arms

He doesn’t move from the entry way unless he sees you running at him

Az does understand that you won’t always be home when he gets there and he does come home late some nights

He does get sad when you can’t hug him first thing though

Whenever he frowns it breaks your heart. You always have to fix that immediately

Az came home from Windhaven with his brothers one evening, just in time for dinner. Nyx had ran up to his dad and uncle with you trailing not far behind. You waited until the little boy greeted them for you to throw yourself at Az. He looked so worn down you considered not throwing yourself into his arms. Once Az saw you his face lit up! He stood ready, arms open and knees bent a little, ready to pick you up and hold you tight to his chest.

You launch yourself at him, jumping and wrapping your arms and legs around Azriel. “Azzy! I missed you!” You place kisses all over his face. He doesn’t care that Cassian and Rhys are watching. Azriel basks in your love and attention. Once you’re done he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your calming scent. Cass and Rhys’s jaws drop as you talk to him in a babying voice that you use when you’re alone. You just can’t help it!

Kisses kisses kisses all of the kisses for Az always!

Frowning? Kisses all over his face until he’s giddy

Before bed kisses or he cannot sleep

Sometimes you’ll jokingly forget, just rolling over and saying goodnight sweetly. “AH” Az yells, “where is my goodnight kiss little miss?” You giggle, “Huh? What are you talking about?” Az pulls you on top of him and he kisses you hard, never letting up until you hold him back

Morning kisses and goodbye kisses before he leaves for training/work. “Bye Azzy, I love you.” You say pecking his lips quickly. Az isn’t fully satisfied with your little peck, pulling you by your waist flush to his front he kisses you deeply

You’re the own who’s supposed to flustering him! When he lets go your cheeks are pink and you’re out of breath, waving goodbye as he sends you a wink while leaving

Packing him lunch if he’s out all day even if it’s just at the house of wind

You add a note with his food telling him how much you love him

Az swears his teeth are going to fall out if you keep baking him treats. But he would be so sad if you ever stopped baking or packing him lunches with little notes he would cry his eyes out

You make sure all of his weapons are clean and organized

I know for a fact Azriel likes things clean and organized and if he had a label maker he would use the shit out of it

When he comes home from long missions you don’t let him lift a finger! That is unacceptable, he’s just spent days Mother knows where, in an uncomfortable spot and is disgusting

You always have a bath ready for him along with a towel that you warmed by the fire

You wash his hair and massage his neck and shoulders. He washes himself though, he doesn’t want you doing all of the work

Most nights you insist on him laying on top of you because you like holding him close and running your fingers through his silky hair

When he’s sick Azriel really plays it up just to get more attention from you

You make him soup and tea, you even spoon feed him while he lays in bed

“I think I’m warm will you feel my forehead?” Az knows full well he’s burning up from his small fever he just wants to feel your cool hand on his skin. You make sure to touch his forehead and cup his cheeks

You tuck him in making sure he’s all warm and snuggly

When he’s feeling better he still acts sick for an extra day because he isn’t ready to leave the comfort of your care just yet

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel headcanons #azriel headcanon

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ciaonicole85 · 3 days

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Part 1: What then?

Some seemingly innocent, but truly mind-altering information is shared in a staff meeting.

Short fan fic. Low-key Sydcarmy/The Bear fluff. Post-season 2. Canon-compliant.

Location: The Bear Time: 10:05 a.m.

The restaurant had closed lunch service on a Tuesday for a "Development Day". The Bear had been open for 5 months and had a 2 month wait list! After Family and Friends when they had all banded together the Bear crew had gotten tighter than ever. Carmen had been a outsider in his own restaurant for a couple weeks, but soon the dust settled. Even Sydney came around after 3 weeks of his patient groveling. The duo was good and soon The Bear had become one of Chicago Tribune's "Best New Restaurants." However, with success The Bear was changing fast. They had hired more full-time front and kitchen staff, which was great. The downside was that "respectful communication" and "customer complaint management" was waning a little. Things were not terrible, but Richie for whom Ever set the bar in hospitality, The Bear should always be improving, not sliding backwards. Natalie, Carmen and Sydney agreed. They also wanted to discuss new menu changes and a to-go system they would be testing soon.

"Okay, people! Let's get started" Natalie said beckoning everyone to take a seat at the front of house.

Richie stood next her "casually dressed" in a button down blue dress shirt and dark grey slacks.

He began, "As you know The Bear is on track to paying off the loan and we're the freakin' toast of the town right now, but this is not the time to take a nap. We gotta keep our eyes on the prize. So first, up facial regulation as known as RBF awareness."

Natalie tapped his shoulder and whispered, "Richie, I love your enthusiasm, but I thought we might start with an ice breaker?"

He shrugged and continued, "But Nat, has a ice breaker. Take it away".

Natalie resumed.

"So, first we want to thank each of you for being part of this dream and making it fun, rewarding, and successful. As you know The Bear is a family business and since there's new faces here we'd like to get to know you better and vice versa. We'll start with a quick round of "Best and Worst". Just pick a question out of the cup and answer it. Please keep your answers to 2 minutes."

The first question went to Randall, a young man in his early 20's with dark curly hair and thick glasses that frequently fogged in the humid kitchen. He was the new assistant pastry chef.

"What was the best place I ever lived? Hm…Guam. My dad, Army, was stationed on the base and I lived there from age 9-11. I had like 12 friends just on my block and we were always playing soccer, swimming, or riding our bikes. It was awesome."

"Thanks Randall!" Natalie chirped.

The next went to Tina.

"Ok…what is worst advice I've ever been given? Keep your head down and do what you know. That's the advice I used to give myself. Thankfully I didn't listen because now I'm a sous chef!"

Sydney who was sitting near the front between Gary and Carmy, beamed at Tina who returned the smile with a little moisture in her eyes.

The next question went to Marcus.

"Best moment in the last year? It was training at Noma, in Copenhagen. It was my first international trip. I got to stay in a houseboat, explore the city, meet cool people, and figure out that I wanted to do this maybe forever."

The last several months had been really hard due to Marcus's mom's passing. He had returned to work after a week of mourning citing that he knew she wouldn't want him to sit at home now that she was no longer sick. Despite that he was getting better every day and had come up with several new popular dessert specials. Tina was seated next to him and patted his arm.

The next few questions went to new dishwasher, Chris, Fak, and then Gary.

Sydney drew the next question and winced upon reading it. It wouldn't be possible to lie because Marcus already knew the truth.

"What was my best meal ever? Well…it was this pork confit with onions and rhubarb. Then after I had this dish called Milk and Honey."

She kept her eyes plastered onto the tiny strip of paper while she spoke. In her peripheral field she could see Carm turning slightly towards her, his cornflower blue eyes boring two holes into the side of her head.

"Sounds grand. Ok, Carmy pick a question" Richie ordered wanting to get down to business by 10:30am.

Carmy didn't seem to hear him. He was on another planet.

"Yo cuz, pick a question!"

He startled and drew a question.

"Uh ok. Best part of my day? Hmmm. Closing up."

It was now Sydney's soul's turn to exit her body. Every night, with few exceptions, she and Carmy ended the night in his office to debrief on the day, perform last checks, and close together.

After a moment she felt his eyes still glancing at her. Without turning she whispered, "Later." The last thing she needed was to look at him, and forget how much time was passing, giving Richie yet another reason to tease them. Not long ago he gave them matching copies of a workplace relationship etiquette tip sheet stapled to an OSHA industrial hygiene handout before leaving them to close.

She sighed, trying to compose herself. It was no big deal. So what that Carm knew he was responsible for the best thing she ever ate? Also, they're partner-friends so it's totally normal that his favorite time of day when is they are together…alone. Right?

UH OH.

#the bear #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy the bear #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #carmy x sydney #carmy berzatto #syd adamu #fan fiction #it's a love story #brain rot #they are so cute #if they can just stare some more in season 3

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rowretro · 1 day

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Yandere!demon! heeseung x human! Reader( Please?)

TOOTHPASTE MOJITO

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned, somewhat sexual(?), alcohol consumption

❁synopsis: Heeseung, a demon of many demons that roams earth, bored. His eyes then land on y/n. The girl who was disgusted by her raspberry mojito, and proceeded to order more mojitos. That's when Y/n saw hell....

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Heeseung smirked, his hands stained with blood, as he stared at the limp body before him. Another day another slay, demon edition. He literally slays them. Could you blame him? I mean what did the drunkard expect? trying to steal his wallet. He didn't stand a chance. Heeseung groaned as he went to his mansion, maids slipping off his coat and placing his shoes aside, as he walked in. The man's rich, anything he wants he gets, money, shoes, cars anything.

But he was missing one thing... a wife. Sure he'd sleep with some girls now and then when he's bored, but none of that satisfies his loving for love. True love, the kind of love one'd find in any movie, a shoulder to lie on, a person to turn to and feel comfortable. The man checked himself out in the mirror, a branded leather jacket worn over his black button down shirt, and trousers to match it. He slipped on a Rolex of the many he owned, followed by some jewellery.

The man walked into the party, fitting in as Jay threw an arm over him "Thought you'd never come, I assume you're here for the girls?" Jay asked as Heeseung snickerred "not this time- I got some time off of work so I decided to drop in... where's the bar?" He asked as Jay pointed it out. The man sat down at the stool, beside him, he could see the back of a girl, her dark hair somewhat covering her bare back, she was dressed is a shimmering, short black dress.

So far she seemed like a hottie to him. "Ack- disgusting... It tastes like grass-" she complained turning around to the bartender. Heeseung got a the full view of her face. Fuck was she beautiful. Her eye makeup really did suit her, purple glitter reflecting blue, lips so plump and kissable, her nose slightly big, but really added a stunning touch to her pretty face. "Can I get a mojito with Ice... make it really minty" she said as Heeseung frowned at her.

As the bartender walked off to prepare her drink, Heeseung turned to face her "Minty mojito?... that'd taste like toothpaste in alcohol- its already minty as is why ad more?" He questioned as she giggled "Toothpaste mojito.... not a mint lover huh?" she asked then she froze "Wow... Jay knows so many attractive men but damn." she added quite boldly. "He seems to know very pretty girls... none as pretty as you though, can't believe he gatekept you from me... Heeseung." He introduced himself. "Y/n.... " she said with a smile

If only she knew there and then that he's a goddamn demon. Literally. She thought she was just drunk, one second she was at the party, the next in a luxorious bedroom with a fine man. That morning she realized, the man did the impossible, he literally teleported her. She saw him really murder a man. She looked under the blanket. No sign of pain, hickeys or anything, she smelled nice, dressed in a man's jumper, presumably Heeseungs.

Oh how stupid she felt. Thinking it'd be easy to sneak out of a demon's home without being caught. Acting cool, walking out as the guards assumed she was just some slut he slept with. "Where do you think you're going sweetheart?" he asked, her back against the wall, as his body trapped her. "uh... home? I need to feed my bunny" she excused as he just laughed.

"Oh baby how drunk were you?... you ARE home... and I fed your bunny see? *he said with a smirk pointing at the little white rabbit that rested comfortably in a more spacious cage". It was too much to process. did she move in with him? did something happen? are they in a relationship? "yes, I guess, and Yes.." he answerred without missing a beat, red eyes staring into hers. "Did I say that out loud?..." she asked as he smirked.

"As you can see darling, I'm a demon, I know everything you think about. When I first laid my eyes on you... thought I'd just let you stay in my bed one night.... then you talked to me and fuck." He groaned, holding her heart at his chest "feel that?! Im in fucking love with you baby, I fucking wanted you... no I fucking needed you. so here you are." He said with a smirk "You're crazy. Im not into you Heeseung. You can't just kidnap me, and my bunny and say im you're in love with me. Im leaving." She claimed confidentally

"That's where you're wrong. You're mine, you're not going anywhere and you won't need to, everything you need is in this mansion. If I want something sweetie.. I get it. How about you think twice before your decision, sure you wouldn't want to anger a demon... I KNOW you're smarter than that." He simply said. He's right. Only an idiot would do such a thing, she really had no choice... She was in hell and there's no going back....

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(so sorry to all my readers, Ill try work on the series's too, yes my blog is wet now- its no longer a dry desert)

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bellasprettywords · 21 hours

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Crappy day at the office (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: This time I bring to you a little conforting one shot, as I had a really bad day at work and all I craved was some lasagna and cuddles

This is not proofread yet, srry, you guys

My masterlist

Warnings: Fluff, and this is kinda lame, I'm just tired and needed comfort

Word count: 962ish bc there are emojis

Being an Assistant District Attorney was all fun and games, until you had your ass handed to you in Court. Sometimes it felt like no matter how much work you put into a case, if the evidence is not completely convincing, and reasonable doubt just shatters the case you so much time and effort you had put in.

After the disaster at Court, the way back to the District Attorney’s Office was hell: there was a huge road block which caused a traffic jam that made you late for a meeting at with your boss; the printer wasn’t working properly, so you had to struggled when printing some files you needed for a deposition, and you still had at least six pending report for the day. Your head started spiraling, but your train of thought seemed interrupted when your boyfriend’s name popped on your phone screen:

“Hey Spence! What’s up?” you tried to answer as casually as you could

“How’s the most beautiful woman at the District Attorneys is doing?” Spencer said, and you could hear the smile that was forming into his lips as he was talking

“The day has been hectic, I don’t think I’ll be home early today; what about you? How’s San Francisco?” you asked hoping your boyfriend’s day at work would take your mind off from the crappy day you were having

“San Fran was great, I mean, it’s great, but actually, I should get back to work. Talk to you later?” Spencer said in kind of rush, which weirded you about a little, but you didn’t mind, at the end of the day, Spencer quirks were a huge part of what made you fall for him

“Alright then, I love you” you said with the hint of a smile curling up on your lips

“I love you too, honey” he said, blowing one last kiss before hanging up the call

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Finally, after a day that felt immensely long, you were finally pulling up into your apartment building, all you could think about was taking a long, hot shower, eating some takeout, and finishing the day watching reality tv to apace your mind. The way up to your apartment you were just eager to call your boyfriend, hoping this time he had more time to ramble about your crappy day, sure Spencer always tried to rationalize your problems with logical solutions, but you just needed to hear his voice to feel at ease.

You were clicking the key into your door, when suddenly, you realized there was a lovely smell coming from your apartment and with a huge grin, you opened the door to see your boyfriend, mighty Doctor Spencer Reid, struggling to take lasagna out from the oven without burning himself or making a mess.

“Hey… youuuuu” you said rushing to hug your boyfriend and you couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear

“How are you, beautiful?” Spencer hugged you back and you couldn’t help yourself to burry your face in the crock of his neck and take a deep breath, inhaling his scent of muck and coffee “I flew in here when I first called you, but I could tell something was wrong from your tone, so I wanted to do something nice for you”

“Damn it with the profiler abilities” you said, laughing playfully and merging into a sweet kiss

“What happened today? You sounded really odd?” Spencer’s voice was filled with concern, and you could see it building it up on his beautiful eyes

“Nothing, everything, it was one of those days, when everything just goes wrong” you started rambling about everything that went wrong through the day, and nothing filled your heart with more love, than seeing Spencer paying full attention to you, memorizing every detail and nodding empathetically sporadically. You rambled and rambled, while Spencer held you and caressed you, immediately making you feel better.

“… So, that’s enough rambling about me, and my tragic life, when I was coming into the apartment I saw a lasagna being taking out of the oven, so I’m guessing it’s for me?” you said trying to wrap it up, and eager to try your boyfriend’s cooking

“As a matter of fact, I did prepare a lasagna, and I’m excited for you to try it, so let’s sit down and have dinner” Spencer said excitedly, serving one generous plate of lasagna while you poured yourself a glass of wine “Here you go ma’am” he said placing the plate in front of you

“Thank you, very much!” you said placing a kiss into Spencer’s cheek; you watched him placing his plate and sitting down, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you had gotten with Spencer; he really was the whole package, he was crazy smart, sweet, considerate, and sometimes you felt that his only motivation was making you happy.

“What are you spiraling about?” Spencer said, taking you out of your train of thought

“Nothin’, I was just thinking how lucky I am to have such an amazing boyfriend” you said, grinning from ear to ear, ready to dig in on the lasagna; you watched as Spencer blushed and chuckled like a kid, so you said the magic words both you and your boyfriend loved the most to hear: “I love you”

“I love you even more, now dig in and tell me how amazing my lasagna is” Spencer said with a smug smile and you decided to comply, trying what was definitely one of the best lasagnas of your life, because of course, it was made by the man that you love

Sure, your day had been crappy at the office, but with a boyfriend as affectionate, caring and understandable as Spencer was, you knew even in your most difficult days, you’d be okay.

This is a little shorter than usual, and defenetly is over the place, but I just needed a little fluff for my night

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid

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onepieceoftheoceanblues · 2 days

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Batfam X One Piece Crossover AU

Someone mentioned this sort of au and I went Insane a bit ^-^' hope you guys enjoy!

Okay so a Batfam in the One Piece world au and how I think it would work/go;

I imagine the Batfam were whammied into an entirely new dimension while on patrol so we have the full costumed roster (but not the full extended clan cuz that's so many people lol) so we have Bruce/Batman, Dick/Nightwing, Jason/Red Hood, Tim/Red Robbin, Damian/Robin, Cass/Black Bat, Stephanie/Batgirl (you can pry Steph still being batgirl out of my cold dead hands), and Duke/Signal.

The First thing they do is figure out where they are, an island in something called the ___ blue (idk which they should be in lol, but it's best if they start in a blue I think), and are very obviously not in their world. (I'm gonna say for the sake of Plot either One Piece doesn't exist in their world or none of them have watched/read it because that would be too easy lol)

Ofc the second thing they do is try to find a way home and gather info but uh, they quickly realize this world doesn't have the best tech around to build something to take them home, and places/people they can get to would be either hard to find or in a place that's very dangerous to get to (Vegapunk is their best bet but... not really an option for right away due to mentioned reasons).

They think of asking this "World Government" for help for all of two seconds, before finding out how fucking awful and corrupt the whole system this world has and nixes that idea right in the bud. They're Vigilantes for a reason, after all, and know corruption in governments very well. So honestly, their best bet is either trying to go along and find someone that can help and materials, or waiting for their people from their world to come and get them.

(SO much more under cut im sorry Brain went Brrr)

Tbh it must be so wild to be in this world too tho, for some many reasons. It's close enough, but then you factor in all the different races and species, and how the world is set up. Add the fact most of it not as advanced as their world, except in some places which it is? And how half their technology runs on... snails?????? What a baffling world. Also, people can have powers and are gained from something called Devil Fruits which give you powers in exchange that the sea can and will kill you, except for some races have natural powers due to their biology.

They decide pretty quickly in world of water to not eat the Devil Fruits. Also keep an eye on Duke because his powers, while not too flashy, arnt a devil fruit, and they have no way to explain how he has them, and how he can manipulate both light and shadows.

Its probs also so jarring because like, in their world, they are used to being the peak of what humans can do. They keep up with metas and aliens and are cosidered among the best of the best for a reason, and while they often have to compensate with gear and tech, at the end of the day they can only go so far as humans.

However, it's different in this world. Clearly even though there are humans, their biological standards are different then their Earth, and even just humans without powers can go far beyond their own norm if they train and work hard enough for it.

The Batfam could easily handle the Blue's pirates and marines, and probs all cannon fodder marines, and while I think they could deal with a good chunk if not most people in Paradise baring the strongest in the first half of the grand line, there's no way they could deal with the New World even with their best gear and in peak condition for them. Which sucks because their best bets are likely in that Sea.

Idk where I'd see them, my heart wants them to be pirates of their own little run pirate crew, but I could easily see them being picked up by a canon crew or turning Revolutionaries in exchange for getting help find a way home, or pirates with connections to Revs. The only thing I can't see is them as Marines, as stated a few paragraphs above, lol, but also I figure they run into the law and go fuck you guys and what you stand for and end up with bounties so they are wanted anyways. But either way they are gonna be progressing and trying to find a way home while getting stronger.

I imagine Haki is the first thing they really try to get down after leanring about it. Idk how they managed to find out about it either in the blues or so early in the grand line, but they are expert information gatherers so they do and immediately try to learn it (either tracking someone down who knows it or how to unlock it, or finding adequate documentation in how to do it) and get to work. It's their best chances in getting a leg up in this world.

And they do unlock it! They're pretty much all geniuses, and they already have experience learning weird skills and manipulating their mental will (they can block out telepaths and have strong willpower in general against mind control canonically), so learning to manifest it into Observation and Armament Haki is less about how hard it is and more just if they can (After all they aren't from this world) and how to apply it. Thankfully, it seems they can.

Duke's Observation makes his future vision so much more powerful, so much he actually has adverse effects to it at first before he gets used to it. Observation is great, just helps what they already natrually know but Armament is very much beloved, instant armor that helps you hit harder even against normal people, let alone devil fruit users!! They are big fans.

Conquerors Haki off the table rn because A.) they don't know if they have it and B.) Who or whatever they learned Haki from didn't explain it or have it to explain so that's put to the side for now, but I'm unsure who, if any of them, have it. Maybe Bruce and Jason, and maybe Damian? I feel?? I could also see Dick unlocking his use of it in a fit of protective rage? Im largely Unsure.

I also think it would be neat if the longer they are here, their bodies adapt to this world more and more until they start being able to past their peak of what they could do before and just... keep going. It varies from each batfam member how they feel on their biology changing over time, but they can't do more than just accept it. At least it will help them survive.

Also, they have to adapt in more ways than one. They arrive and their best gear, fully stocked and mostly undamaged, but the longer they are here the more they run out of supplies and things wear down so they have to figure out how to get/make more or alternate for something better. Batarangs thankfully, while having to be made of a different material, can be made from any island with a good blacksmith who's willing to let them use their forges to make them themselves (cuz having to commission them would take money they don't actually have)

Their suits thankfully are fine and reinforced, but over time they're gonna have to likely find a fabric that could replace the stuff their suits are made of or just switch to diffrent outfits inspired by their suits. Dick's Escrima Sticks can't be charged, so they end up not electrified until they find a way to do it later. Jason's guns inevitably run out of ammo then even if he makes his own, they get just damaged so he's forced to switch to the local pirate guns, thankfully not all are just flintlocks.

Damian's sword is apparently very high grade here and is very smug about it, though annoyed other "Swordsmen" keep wanting to know more about his blade and where he learned to use his "weird style". Tim gets a boa staff that has the ends tipped in sea stone.

Their styles also adapt over time. I have this vision of Dick getting his hands on these boots, probs with Dial technology, that let him jump higher and bounce off of walls if he times it right. Jason with Dial guns. They start picking up the 6 powers as well, not all, but Geppo and Soru become very heavily utilized. I think one of them should end up with Voice of all Things, either Cass or Duke, because it's fun lol.

Im... unsure about devilfruits, but I think it would be intrestin to explore if somone ate one, likely out of despration or having little choice. Unsure who or what fruit but just would be neat i think, expecially dealin with the side effects. Tho Dick with a Wind Logia or a winged Zoan of sorts sounds SO interesting. (Can you tell who my favorite batfam memeber is? ^-^')

As for Ponyglaph Runes, Bruce and Tim def find out about it and try their best to tackle it, but It's REALLY hard to learn an entirely different language with unfamiliar sentence structure when you have absolutely no keys or references to work with. They learn of Nico Robin, and aren't stupid so figure it's likely an awful cover-up or more to the story, and decide to lowkey make it one of their goals to track her or any other knowledge on how to learn it down. If they get even a bare hint of a clue on how to translate, I'm sure they'd figure it out over time, but Robin is their best bet.

They find out about Whitebeard, and they are quietly glad Bruce's adoption problem isn't that bad but think its funny. Dick is beloved by all and makes enough friends and allies to rival Luffy's charisma, it's a skill man. I can't decide if their Epithets in this world are just their Vigilante names, and they stay masked, or they get knew Epithets and decide there's no point in hiding, or a mix of both but yee.

The OP world either speaks "Common" they can all magically speak now with some diffrent launages in diff parts of the world, OR Japanese, which some of them know and have to teach the others, OR a weird mix of English and Japanese. There's a point in time that people think Damian is Nico Robin's child or sibling because of the Robin thing, and he's a little demon child. Or hell they still do, and he's very livid while Robin is both amused but also scared for this child who is being tied to her.

They still dont kill for the most part, baring Jason, but some of them are pushed into it and they have to figure out what that means for them and what it means moving fowrard with their no kill policy. Some do better with it, some dont. Bruce still hasnt and wont kill, same with Cass, and Damian decides he doesnt want to but will if absolutly no other choice is offered, thankfully they havnt let him had to make this choice yet. (I just have so much thoughts about a assassin raised child deciding they dont want their hands more red now they have the choice).

One or more of them should end up pulled into the War at Marineford and Ace should be saved because I will try to fit a Ace Lives plot into everything lol

Overall I think if this was a fanfic the plot would be a lot of exploring the differences in their worlds, how they adapt and overcome, and trying to find a way home while also coming to like this world and overturning corruption and fucking over the government. I think them with the Strawhats or another crew would be fun, either as allies or joined idk, but I think with them as their own crew would be cool as well. If they join or ally with a crew Bruce lowkey adopts everyone, and he's given SO much shit for it but christ so many of them have such sad backstories and he wants to help

I think in the end they should get to find their way home and like no time has passed, but they're so changed, and arguably considered powered now because lol, but find a way to go back and visit safely.

Sorry for the word vomit but man im in love with this idea. Feel free to comment or send Asks with questions or comments about the au! Please Reblog, and not just like, as they do nothing <3

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harlowtales · 1 day

Text

Y/N feels trapped with a baby on the way and Jack distances himself to think

18 Plus Only - Adult Themes and Content

Nobody knew you were pregnant yet. You asked Jack to wait to even tell his family as it had just passed 3months and you didn’t want to jinx it. He was being super paranoid not letting you do anything, and barely go anywhere. He was hyper about germs and the cleaning lady had to be extra careful about how she disinfected every surface.

“Baby come on wash your fucking hands” Jack said one day exasperated and whipping out wipes to wipe your fingers like a child.

“Jack I can lick my fingers I’m at home.” You shot back with your mouth full of popcorn. “Hey when are we going out tonight?” You asked casually assuming you would be going to The Hub with your fiancée and asking to see what time you should get ready. Pregnancy was already making you more tired than usual and you wanted to take a nap before you left.

“Uhh WE?” Jack asked you back

“Yes. When are we leaving?” You repeated

“Baby.” Jack said calmly and sat down looking you in the eye “You won’t be going.”

“What??” You fumed “What the fu…” you firmly clamped your mouth as Jack was trying to not swear around the future baby.

He shot you a disapproving glance. “Please babe, stay home from now on k? Can’t have you in the mix anymore.” Jack explained and thought that would be that with a kiss on your forehead.

“Oh the fuck I’m not going. I’m not sitting home pregnant while you go out and girls seeing you ALONE?? Are you mental?” You raged.

“You don’t go on tour with me and I behave” Jack said to his credit. “You trust me I know you do. You just want to party.”

“No…um not true.” You said as he caught you in your true motives. You loved being out and hanging with everyone. “C’mon baby…Pleaaaassee” You begged flashing your megawatt smile and fluttering your eyelashes.

“That ain’t gone work.” Jack said sternly

“What about this.” You said going down on your knees and starting to pull down his sweatpants.

“Ok baby stop. You’d suck dick to get to go?” Jack said laughing.

“I’m going to be trapped for months after the baby is born.” You said pouting to which Jack finally relented.

“Ok mama you can go.” He said “But I’ll take a rain check on that sloppy toppy, I got some stuff to do before we leave.”

You took a nap and woke up around 6PM to get ready to go. Excitedly you texted your friends Jack actually said yes. You were only slightly showing with a hint of a bump. Most people had no idea you were pregnant, and you weren’t a heavy drinker so the fact that you turned down alcohol the last few weeks didn’t raise any eyebrows either. Urban knew and a couple of Jack’s friends who did security for him when he went out. This was to ensure you had extra protection.

You put your hair up in a ponytail with a longer extension for fun and put on a jumpsuit that wasn’t too tight to give the secret away. To go to the Hub you didn’t have to dress up. Jack thought you looked adorable which got him going even more than you looking ultra sexy.

“Mmmm” he said looking you up and down and pulling you close. “Can I jump in your jumper with you?”

“You passed on a blow job remember?” You reminded him as he kissed you.

Just then your driver and security buzzed up, it was time to go have fun one last time.

The energy of the club is what you needed. You dodged Jack and his friends successfully until the club started getting full. Jack sent Timo to hunt you down and bring you to where he was heading to behind “the wall”. “The wall” was the literal wall Jack’s friends formed in front of him when he went out to clubs so no random people could get too close to him.

Unfortunately for you who had just been convinced by your friends (who didn’t know you were 3 mos pregnant) to dance on the bar and you took the challenge, not because you were drunk but because you just wanted one last crazy thing to do.

“Whooo!! Go Y/N!!” They encouraged you as you twerked a little sticking your tongue out with plans to come down right away but Timo caught you and Jack spotted you texting Timo furiously “BRO TELL HER TO GET DAFUQ DOWN!” Jack texted in all angry caps.

You were in the process of coming down when you met Timo face to face as you touched the ground with his help. “Y/N! You are in trouble young lady.” He said sternly “Come with me.” He said taking you by the arm and whisking you off to where Jack was waiting beet red. You looked back at your friends who felt guilty for egging you on.

“Don’t” Jack said turning his head away as you went up on your tipi toes for a kiss. “I can’t even talk to you right now.”

“It’s called having fun old man.” You snapped “ I went up there on a dare for 2 mins”

“Can you act like a mother for 2 fucking seconds?” Jack angrily whispered. People nearby were trying to hear what was going on but fortunately the thundering bass drowned him out.

“Maybe I would act more like a mom if I wasn’t trapped!” You shot back hurting Jack deeply. All he had been doing was protecting you. He said nothing in return and sipped on his water to calm down. He reasoned you were being emotional given you were pregnant.

“Ok fine. 2 can play this ignoring game.” You said to him to which he pretended not to hear knowing it drove you nuts.

“Ok girly let’s go to the bathroom.” Urban’s girlfriend said taking you away to talk about what was going on with you. It was not like you to be so irresponsible. For once she agreed with Jack. “What’s going on mama?” Azura said kindly hugging you.

“He tells me what to do CONSTANTLY!” You said bursting into tears.

“He does always tell you what to do. Jack is like a stern father, I don’t know how you stand it.” Azura said trying to influence you to jump to Jack’s defence. Her and Urban had just got back together and she didn’t want to see you go through fighting with Jack while pregnant.

“Jack is not a stick in the mud” You said in his defence which Azura knew you would. “He is just trying to…oh I see what you’re doing. Nice one, making me realize my man just wants the best for me and his baby and maybe dancing on a bar is a bad idea.”

“Bingo!! You catch on quick” Azura said sarcastically making you laugh.

“Ok girl let me go apologize to my man.” You said feeling horrible for how you had spoken to Jack.

He was vibing in a corner not talking to anyone. The way you had acted had him down. He had fulfilled his obligation to appear at the club so he was just waiting for you to get out of the bathroom so the both of you could go home. He should have stuck to his guns and made you stay back. Now gossip blogs were going to be reporting about your 5 secs dancing on the bar and the obvious argument the two of you had. When they did the math months later and found out you were pregnant when you were up there, it’s going to be a mini-disaster.

“Ready? We’re leaving early, I have an early morning.” Jack lied.

“Baby…Jackman” You said reaching up to turn his sulking face to yours “I will never do anything like that again. I love you”

“Babe…no come on” He said avoiding your kiss as you reached around his neck to pull him down to you. He was really irritated and sad. It took you by surprise that you couldn’t work your magic and smooth it over. Urban and Azura exchanged concerned glances as you and Jack made your exit.

He was silent all the way home which thankfully wasn’t far from the condo. It was so awkward. When you got back you didn’t push him to talk to you and got ready for bed. Usually by now you guys would be joking again already. Jack didn’t come to bed with you. He sat in his studio room listening to a beat on loop with a pen and pad out. You tossed and turned while you heard the muffled beat through the bedroom walls. When you tipi toed into the studio you found him laying on the floor staring at the ceiling like he often did when he felt depression setting in. There was a whole bunch of scrunched up balls of paper that he had missed the waste paper basket with.

You said nothing and laid down on the floor in the same position next to him. At first he didn’t notice you and then glanced over but maintained his silence. You took a chance and reached out to hold his hand. He took it slowly and held it gently giving you a sense of relief. “Nice beat.” You said quietly

“Thanks. Clay made it.” He said expressionless

“Writer’s block?” You asked referencing all the crumpled up paper on the floor.

“Um sort of” He said turning to you propped up on his elbow “Do you believe in destiny baby?”

“To a degree. I’m not sure.” You said honestly turning to him. “Why?”

“I dreamt you and then I met you.” He said with a whimsical smile taking you by surprise and giving you tingles. “And now you have a part of me inside of you. We’re bonded forever now. Do you understand that means everything to me?”

“Not until now. I…I have felt trapped and sometimes…replaceable.” You said blinking to hold back tears coming.

“I could never do better than you.” Jack said moving closer and kissing you passionately. “Will you just trust that I always mean to do right by you?”

“Yes Jack I will.” You nodded as tears started to fall down your cheeks and he wiped them.

“I will always be here for this moment and wipe every tear as it falls.” He vowed in a near whisper. That’s it!! He said suddenly making you jump. “That’s the song! I’m unstuck! Thank you baby.” Jack said kissing you roughly on the head and leaping up to grab his pen and pad.

“Happy to help.” You said sarcastically “Don’t stay up too late.” You said yawning and heading to bed.

“Oh I’m coming to get some don’t worry” he said looking at your ass in your pyjama pants as you walked away.

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice

#jack harlow #fanfic #romance #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow fanfic #dramatic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x reader

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disarm-you · 2 days

Text

Can I Show You How Sorry I Am?

Pairing: Frank Castle x F! Bartender reader

Summary: You and Frank had been hooking up for several months and then he dropped off the face of the earth. Six months later, he walks back into your bar and has some explaining to do.

Word Count: 3,520

a/n: This is smut heavy but nothing crazy. It was intended to be a smutty porn with plot one shot but I really enjoyed writing this. In fact, I have some loose ideas on making this into a series. Diving into reader’s background and exploring what a relationship with The Punisher would look like. How a serious relationship for Frank would play out. If you’re interested in more, please let me know!

I’m going on vacation in a few weeks and then I will be cutting down my hours at work. I expect to get more stories out starting this summer! As always, a friendly reminder that reblogs are the best way to support writers on here. XOXO

Looking up from the bar, you see the door swing open just as your coworker yells out last call. Curiosity sparked- today had been abnormally easy. Or maybe it was a good day made better under the lense of a full night’s sleep. The weather had been beautiful all afternoon-clear skies, light wind and full sun. You were able to relax outside and soak up a few rays of sun before work, letting its heat warm up your tired bones.

Work was comfortably steady and a few regulars left you a larger than usual tip today. Life recently threw you a major curveball but you were set on enjoying the sunshine while it’s here, because the moon will always come around again.

Nothing could have prepared you for the shock of seeing Frank step into the room. It had been, what, over six months since you last saw him? Your eyes were staring at him but you couldn’t seem to focus on one spot. They moved from his deep eyes, down to his black hoodie and the combat boots you loved. You noted that he looked a bit thinner than the last time you saw him and he had one hell of a black eye and split lip. Your back stiffened as you tried to process all your emotions. You were pleased to know he was alive but anger and sadness panged across your chest as you thought about the past year.

You two had never made it official but you had been sleeping together frequently enough that his sharp absence from your life hurt. You and Frank met in the same bar that you were currently in. You were new to the city and Frank was a welcome respite from the coldness New York could offer. He would show up several times a week, somehow always on nights you worked. He would walk you home and you two would enjoy a night cap or three with the evening ending in him making you see God. All of the pleasure and none of the drama. But as time and nature would have it, you managed to catch feelings. You tried to keep them buried, telling yourself he didn’t feel the same. You were too afraid of scaring him off, so you never verbalized your feelings.

However, he skipped a Monday night, which was unusual for him. Concern creeped in when he didn’t visit you three shifts in a row. And then weeks passed and you were consumed with worry about his safety and eventually you began to fear the absolute worst.

Inhaling deeply, you manage to look up as Frank approaches you. “Hey Sweetheart” he says softly, while making eye contact with you.

A flaming arrow shot a deadly blow to your heart as soon as you met his puppy dog eyes. The smell of his cologne hit your nostrils and lit a fire low in your belly. Rat fucking bastard.

Tears began to well in the corners of your eyes but you weren’t certain if they were from sadness, rage, or pent up sexual frustration with this big, dumb, beautiful man standing in front of you.

Your coworker walked by, noticing the change in your body language. “Is everything ok over here?” He asks, looking between the two of you.

“Yeah, it is. Um, actually, would it be ok if I took off a bit early tonight? I need to deal with something.”

“Of course, but you owe me one! Text me if you need anything.” Winking at you before he walked back to his station.

“Hey Frank. It’s nice to see you.” Deciding to err on the side of kindness. After all, he did show back up to see you. You might as well hear him out, even if you did give him your customer service tone.

“I know it’s been a while and that’s my fault. Can we go back to my place and talk?”

My place. The words echoed in your head. Previously, the two of you only ever hooked up at your apartment and even then he rarely bothered to stay the night.

“Yeah, actually that would be nice. Let me go get my things and I will meet you outside.”

____________

“So, this is your place, eh?” You ask, trying to keep your tone light as you surveyed the area. Noting the bare walls, sparse furniture and dumbbells stuffed in the corner, it was obvious a single man lived here. However, what you couldn’t tell is if this is a new place or if he dropped you for a different fling and was hiding out this past half year.

“Yeah, it is. Want something to drink?”

”Mmmhmm, beer’s good if you got it.”

You two sat on his futon, taking the first sip,

“Why haven’t I seen your place before you?” You ask, nerves building up in your chest as you put off the real questions you wanted to ask him.

Sighing deeply, Frank glances away until finally making eye contact.“When we first met, I knew I wasn’t going to be in town for much longer. I didn’t think that I would be back once I left.”

Frank then sat down his beer, picking up your free hand and cradling it with his. “But I really enjoyed our nights together. And I kept coming around your bar, while I put off the work I needed to do.”

Inhaling sharply you say, ”Listen, I understand that we never had the relationship ‘talk’ but Frank, we were fucking pretty regularly and then you just disappeared. Poof, gone in the blink of an eye. I feel like you at least owed me a see ya later before running off.” You say, taking a large swig of your beer, trying to calm the nerves that swirled in your chest. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your hand is shaking as you sit it back down. Or the tears welling in your eyes again. Thankfully, he couldn’t hear your heart thumping as you anxiously waited for him to respond.

“You’re right Darlin’ and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you.” He swallowed thickly and you could catch the slightest gruff in his voice. “I thought it would be less painful if I just disappeared. But when I was gone, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I missed your smile and your laugh. I missed the way your hand feels in mine. I missedâ€¦ the feelings you brought up in me. When the job was over I decided to make my home here, maybe even with you.”

Sighing roughly, you move to sit back, trying to process everything that’s happening. Frank adjusts so you can lean into his torso.You close your eyes and he moves his arm around your shoulder, which softened a bit of the emotions flooding you.

“You know I waited around for weeks, hoping you would show up. And when you never did, I thought you had died. The worst part is that I didn’t have anyone to ask. You always come in alone and I didn’t even know your last name so I kept checking local obituaries-”

Frank noticed the panic in your voice and brought his free hand under your chin, tilting your face up and forcing you into eye contact.

“Castle”

”â€¦What?” You ask while your brain is trying to catch up.

“My last name is Castle.” He whispers, bringing his thumb up to trace your lower lip. He pauses, looking at you questioningly.

You had so many questions running through your mind but being back in his arms reminded you of all the nights you spent wrapped up in your bed. The smell of him being so close to you was intoxicating. Before you knew it the rush of hormones hit your brain as you involuntarily move your face towards him, locking lips ever so sweetly.

Despite their injury, his lips are somehow softer than you remember and your heart rate picks up as he moves his hands up to cup your face. Frank is taking his time with you tonight, enjoying the brushing of your lips together as if it was the first time he’s kissed you. The moment is tender and softer than your previous encounters.

All too quickly though he pulls away. Your breath hitches and you involuntarily grab at his sweater, trying to tug him close again.

“Can I show you how sorry I am?” Frank pleaded as his lips hovered over yours.

“Please.” You replied shakily as you clamber into Frank's lap, reveling in the groan it exudes from Frank.

You shiver as he runs his warm hands up your sides and along your back. You kiss him deeply, one hand splayed across his chest while the other gripped his hair tightly, hoping that it was enough to keep him here in front of you.

You slowly grind into his lap as you part your lips against Frank’s. He takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth while shoving your hips together.

“Do you see what you fucking do to me?” He growled as he thrusted his hips up into yours, grinding his growing bulge against you.

You whined in response as you pulled your shirt over your head. Without hesitating, Frank reached up and deftly unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side and gently cupped your beasts with both of his hands.

Your head dizzying with want, you lean forward to kiss Frank, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth as his large hands fondled your breasts.

Breaking away, he kisses down your neck until he reaches your chest. Moving his head to the side, he slips a nipple into his mouth teasing you until you issued your fist moan of the evening.

Chuckling, Frank moves his focus to your other breast and you loudly moan as you feel the buzzing want for him run up and down your body. You so deeply missed the way you just melt into his touch. It had been a lonely six months since Frank’s disappearance, not for lack of desire though.

You were often hit on by men at your job but most of them were a huge turnoff. Drunk and aggressively flirting with you until you declined their offer and getting angry when you wouldn’t give them your number. But you stayed at this job since the extra cash on hand greatly supplemented your primary job.

You did briefly consider yourself spending the night with a gorgeous blonde woman who came into the bar. She had the most beautiful blue eyes that you could get lost in. Except you couldn’t tell if she was flirting with you or if she was just incredibly nice. You were too hesitant to make the first move. That didn’t stop you from thinking about her as you touched yourself that night. But that was last month and you haven’t seen her come back in.

And right now all you were focusing on was Frank and how you don’t think you’ve fully relaxed since he left. You are unabashedly grinding in his lap, arching your back into his kisses as his hands worshiped your body.

“Frank, pleaseâ€¦” you rasped as he popped his mouth off your nipple and brought you in closer to him.

“Please, what darlin.” He whispered as he pressed your foreheads together.

“I just need you to touch me so badly.” You softly whimpered as you pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“I got you girl.”

You squeal with glee as he wraps his arms tightly around you and stands up. You revel in the safety of his arms, feeling his huge biceps press you up against his firm chest. His strength was one of your favorite physical qualities in Frank. You felt so secure tangled up in him. But despite his strength, he was gentle with his touches to you. He was far kinder to you then a few men in your past. In fact, Frank never used force on you, unless of course you asked him to.

Your mind briefly wandered back to an intense night where you were pinned to the bed with his leather belt in your mouth, hand pulling your hair taughtly, thrusting into you unforgivablyâ€¦.

Frank placing you down on the bed brought you back to reality. Shamelessly watching him as he took off his shirt. The clinking of his belt reminded you of its taste in your mouth and you hurriedly removed the rest of your clothes.

You attempt to slide to the top of the bed but Frank grabs your legs.

“Oh no.” He clicks his tongue while dragging you down to the edge of the bed. “Just where do you think you’re going Ma’am? I owe you an apology.” He cooed, while kneeling on the floor, kissing your inner knee up to your inner thighs

Your skin prickles and your breath hitches as Frank sucked some of the tender skin on your inner thigh into his mouth. Enjoying the reaction from you, he takes his free hand and traces a finger up the seam of your pussy.

You gasp sharply. “Frank, please.” You desperately begged. “You’re being so mean to me.”

Everything about you was driving Frank wild. Your scent was lingering in his nose, leaving him heady with want, how tense the muscles in your thighs are while you were so willingly spread out for him and finally the desire in your eyes is what drove him to splay you open with his index and middle fingers before he starting flicking your clit with his tongue.

Your moans had him groaning as he continued lapping you up. He moved the fingers that were spreading you open lower, teasing your entrance. He briefly enjoyed your gasps of pleasure before slipping two fingers into your wetness, which caused you to inhale sharply as you clenched around him.

Frank slightly leans back and looks up at you. “Yeah, you like that?” He curls his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside you. “Be good and take it.” He husked before sucking on the inside of your thigh.

His words sparked an anger in you- how dare this man come back and then act like this but oh my god did he know how to work you up. And that spark was like gasoline on a fire and you were already so close to coming.

Frank could tell by how tightly you were gripping his fingers. Pulling off your thigh with a wet pop, he brings his mouth back to your clit and it was over. Trails of fire ran up and down your body before dissolving into pleasure.

Frank slowed down to draw out your orgasm as much as he could, waiting until you were whimpering with overstimulation before gently removing his fingers from you.

Still breathing deeply, you open your eyes to find Frank looking at you, while sucking your juices off his fingers. His eyes were a blaze with desire for you, which made your heart start pounding again.

“Frank, I want you.”

He barely heard you over the blood buzzing in his ears. Frank stood up and got on to the bed, encouraging you to move back further. He placed the sole pillow on his bed under your head, making sure you were comfortable before kissing you hard.

You instinctively moved down to help remove his boxers. Once freed, you savored the weight of him in your hand. He was deliciously thick and you can’t help but to start firmly rubbing him. You bring a thumb to the head of his cock rubbing the pre cum down his shaft. Now it was your turn to relish in the noises he was making

Frank was so sensitive that just a small amount of touching had him gently thrusting in your hand, lowly grunting with your firm touch. His enthusiasm reminded you how empty you were. You wordlessly guide him to you, teasing his head up and down your sopping folds until pausing at your entrance. He replaced your hand with his and you moved your hips to slot his.

The pressure of him against your entrance was leaving you lightheaded. The gasps you were making had Frank teeming with desire but he was determined to take his time. Pressing ever so gently he pushed just the head of him inside you as he began to lean down towards you. You tried to buck your hips up into him but he stopped you.

Fully leaning over you, he placed one of his forearms to your side, hooking it around the crown of your head. His other hand held your jaw firmly in place. Staring deeply into your eyes he says, “I’m so fucking sorry I left. I won’t leave you again unless you tell me to.” He pleaded as he buried himself in you.

“Oh fuck yes’ Frank.” You cried out as he pressed your foreheads together.

“I fucking missed you, sweetheart.” He roughly whispered.

“I missed you too.” You choked out, trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. Frank lowered the hand that was on your chin to the other side of your head as he started rocking into you, setting a pleasurable pace for the both of you. He slowly moves his hips until your breath hitches. That’s when he knows he’s got the right angle. You cry out as he rocks into a little harder, causing you to grab on to his shoulders.

Sweat was beginning to leave a light sheen on the both of you as more heat began to generate from where you two were connected. Frank was applying soft kisses on your neck and the little huffs he was breathing near your ear made you clench around him tighter.

You noticed his chest flushing and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Franks brings one hand down, and slips it between the two of you and circled your clit, while kissing you deeply. The pleasure of being surrounded by Frank- his weight on top of you, cock filling you, his scent surrounding you, his tongue flicking into your mouth- was overwhelming after all this time.

You pull away, wanting to save the moment in fear of him slipping away from you again.

“You’re really going to stay this time?” You quietly stuttered in between his thrusts.

“Yes darlin. I’m always going to be here.” He grunted. He could feel you getting tighter again and your whines were music to his ears as he kept his current rhythm. Your fingers tighten against his shoulder, leaving little half moons in it’s wake and your back involuntarily arches as you splinter once more from reality.

Your pussy is squeezing Frank so hard that he can’t hold himself back any longer. His body stiffens and he groans out as he fills you with his cum.

You can’t stop the tears from spilling out and streaming down the side of your face during your come down. All of the fear, anger and worry that had been pent up all came rushing out and it was simply too much. He didn’t try to silence you or make you stop. Frank simply held you and wiped away your tears.

“I’m sorry I’m crying so much.” You sniffled, trying to slow yourself down.

“It’s ok Angel, are you alright?”

You nodded your head yes as Frank carefully removed himself from you. You winced from the loss of contact but he softly pulled you into him as he laid down onto his side.

Your crying had slowed down and the weight of reality was setting back in. Your mind started racing with questions. Did he really mean what he said? What does this mean for the two of you? Were you ready for a commitment like this? So many thoughts racing in your head and you settle on one.

“Frank?” You quietly ask, face still buried in his chest while his hands were rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Earlier you said that you were putting off a job. What did you have to go do?”

Swallowing thickly, Frank closed his eyes. He knew that coming back meant coming clean and you might not be interested when you find out who he really is. And maybe that conversation should have come first but old habits have a way of dying hard.

“I will answer all of your questions in the morning. Would you like to stay tonight?”

“Can we take a shower?” You ask as you nod your head in agreement, attempting to ignore a new ball of anxiety beginning to form. What could this man be hiding from you? “Or do you only have one towel as well? You teasingly ask, partly as a way to distract you from your own mind.

“You’re in luck because I have two and they are both clean. I’ll go start the water. Come and join me when you’re ready” Frank kisses the top of your head before getting out of bed and padding to the bathroom.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x fem!reader #the punisher #the punisher smut #soft frank castle

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