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creedslove · 8 months

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WHO KNEW? 💍💔

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

"You took my hand, you showed me how

You promised me you'd be around (...)

I took your words and I believed in everything you said to me (...)

If someone said three years from now, you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out, 'cause they're all wrong

I know better, 'cause you said forever, and ever, who knew?"

Summary: You and Joel had been married for a few months when he broke things up with you because he'd fallen in love with someone else, Sarah's mom. You parted ways but more than a decade later you end up meeting Sarah and that leads you to face your ex-husband one more time

• Inspired by this amazing HEADCANON request ❤️

Warnings: angst, broken hearts, asshole!Joel, divorce, infidelity, pregnancy, fluff (a little, maybe?) age gap (Joel is four to five years older than reader and the time skip is 12 to 14 years (Sarah's age) but feel free to imagine whatever you want)

A/N: Hi guys!!! I got obsessed with this story ever since I received that ask and turned into a headcanon but it wasn't enough, I had to write a longer, fuller version of this story! I think it's so appealing because we are all used to Joel being our knight in shining armor, always the perfect husband/boyfriend and well, here we can see another part of him. It's not a crime to fall in love with someone else, but the way he broke reader's heart was very mean. Also, I didn't specify reader's profession, just keep in mind she studied A LOT and now she makes good money, but feel free to idealize her job the way you want. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, besties ❤️

10.6k words

You never really understood why some people told you getting married so young would be a mistake. It didn't make sense to you, at all. You and your soon-to-be husband Joel, were young, yes, but you loved each other deeply. You figured it didn't take much more than that to make a happy marriage.

You were fresh from highschool, always had good grades and it didn't take long for you to be accepted in many different institutions, and yet, you decided it would be a good idea to take a sabbatical year in order to get yourself sorted out, maybe get a job and save up some money and enjoy your marriage a little. Joel was very supportive of you, even if he knew you would eventually leave for college and you would both have to make it work long distance.

Joel was just a couple of years older, he'd just left the military and he also needed to know what to do in life, in order to support his wife, he didn't have the book smarts his girl did, but he was kind-hearted and hard-working. He also hadn't planned on getting married that young, but before he could even try to make any sense out of it, he was deeply in love with you.

So Joel proposed, you said yes, his dad helped him get a small, but cute house and the two of you started your new wed life.

For the first few months, everything was a bed of roses; you were so in love, that man was simply intoxicating. His touches, his kisses, his body, his smell, everything about him was addictive to you and you couldn't be without it.

You had found yourself a part time job as a sales clerk at a baby clothes store at the mall, just as Joel was working as an apprentice in the construction business, it was a very hard job, and just in a matter of a couple of months, you saw your boyfriend becoming bigger and more muscular. He worked hard for you, for your relationship, your marriage and the future family you would build in a couple of years. Even if your friends had told you it was madness getting married so young and your family had asked you not to do it, everything was just fine, what could go wrong?

Every single day, Joel would come back home, tired from work, and he would be welcomed by you in your fullest housewife version. Dinner all ready, house spotless clean and a loving wife dying to be in his arms. He would not disappoint you, taking you into his arms, lifting you up, pressing you against the wall, his kisses were so urgent, so needy of you, his hands roamed all over your body as you felt his cock throbbing. Every night next to your handsome husband Joel was a delight, it was your personal piece of heaven, nothing could stop the two of you when you were together, but eventually, it happened.

You didn't know exactly how it started, or when for that matter, it was all a thick fog in your mind, being unable to say precisely when your marriage began falling apart. Perhaps it happened sooner than you thought but you were just too naive or too blind to see; first thing you noticed, were the kisses; they were gone. No kissing before going to work in the morning but you shrugged it off, thinking that maybe Joel was just in a rush to get to work. Though you really missed them, your skin seemed to burn and ache for his touch, you didn't want to seem like a clingy wife, or nag him with unimportant things. Whenever he came back from work, he was still all yours; that's why it took you long enough to notice it.

Every evening, he came back with the same hunger he felt, only this time, he didn't seem to have felt that hunger for you per se, more like a desire within that needed to have you to help him relieve it.

He took you every single night, he gave you pleasure, simple, raw, indifferent pleasure. You didn't actually remember the last time you actually made love, because everytime Joel touched you, he always had you on your hands and knees for him, always fucking you on your back. At the time you thought it was just some kink or something like that, but now it was pretty clear to you it was just the easiest way for Joel to close his eyes and pretend you were someone else.

It was just simply fucking, a means to get to an end.

Then, he began getting home later and later, sometimes he would be too late for dinner, or he would just skip it entirely. Never explaining exactly what he was doing or why he was spending less and less time at home.

"Sorry babe, just had a sandwich with the guys"

That's what he would say before shrugging and going straight to the bedroom; not taking his time to actually see you'd cooked his favorite or that you were starving because you'd waited for him until that hour. The weekends weren't different at all, at first, right after you two got married, you'd spend the entire day in bed, just enjoying each other's company, each other's bodies and love; caresses full of affection carried with lust, turned into nothing more than just a memory some months later. Every weekend Joel simply got up, had breakfast and told you he was heading for work; and he would spend the entire day there, no phone calls to let you know he wouldn't be back for lunch nor calls to tell you he would grab a few drinks with the guys.

Always the guys, and as much as you tried to convince yourself it was indeed just one drink, or a burger, or a soccer match with the guys, your heart was sending you signals, trying to warn you there was something seriously wrong. Yet, you chose not to believe it, you told yourself it was actually kind of cruel of you to have such thoughts about your poor hard-working husband. What kind of wife would you be if you became paranoid while Joel was just working hard to provide you a good life?!

Joel was so busy with his work he barely even noticed when you asked for a double shift on Saturdays. Not that you liked working at the mall, but if you were going to stay alone all the time, you figured you would at least earn some money. Maybe Joel was just stressed about having to put up with the bills all by himself, you reminded yourself. Perhaps things would be back at what they were in the beginning, you were now marking six months of marriage and you knew this wasn't supposed to be happening. Your husband wasn't supposed to be that uninterested in you, he wasn't supposed to be indifferent towards your presence or so ungrateful, and yet you decided to fight for his love, after all, you loved him more than anything, more than anyone, it was an overwhelming feeling but you simply couldn't move on from it.

You waited for Joel another night, you'd made dinner, but of course he said he wasn't very hungry because he had grabbed a bite to eat with the guys.

Your heart clenched, he didn't kiss you, nor held you, it was like you were two different people sharing the same house; not lovers, not husband and wife, perhaps not even friends anymore. It felt each time more and more empty next to Joel, but you tried. You sat down and had dinner on your own, as he glued himself to the TV, watching whatever it was on. You knew him enough to know his mind was drifting away, thinking of something or someone, you weren't sure, the only thing you were a hundred percent sure was that he did everything at his willpower so he wouldn't have to spend time with you. It hurt, like a knife piercing through your chest, it was humiliating and you still didn't know why you were insisting. You swallowed after dinner and walked to the couch, he was nearly asleep and you ran your hands through his hair, feeling how soft his curls were; you had missed dearly times like that, it had been only a few months prior and yet, it felt like an eternity. The way your Joel would come to you, crave your touch, and just overall pay attention to you, unlike the haunting reality that you had to face, in which your husband simply began to ignore you, as if you weren't much more than a shadow, or an invisible and yet quite annoying presence. You looked down at his sleepy and peaceful form, he always looked so young and innocent when he slept it always warmed your heart.

The tip of your fingers ran through his scalp once more, he had always loved that particular display of affection. Minutes passed while you stroked his hair, you could feel Joel shifting softly under your touch, satisfied groans coming out like purrs as he began to slowly open his eyes

"Angela.." he murmured under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to catch it.

At that moment you felt as if you'd lost all balance, gripping the couch and staring at him in disbelief

"Who's Angela?" Your voice suddenly loud and serious, making Joel snap away from the sleeping haze he was in and stare into your eyes. He was carefully not to give it away immediately

"What are you talking about?" He got up from the couch, determined to turn his back to you

"You said a name. Angela, who's she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Y/N, stop being crazy"

Your blood boiled at the accusation.

For months all you did was try to be the perfect housewife, you cooked, cleaned, worked and brought home the little money you made in order to win back your husband's attention, not only that, you didn't want to have to give away to everyone who told you you would be making a mistake by marrying so young. It had been so difficult to actually admit to yourself your marriage was at a risk, and now you just had enough proof. After months of indifference, your husband was now mumbling another woman's name; as if it wasn't bad enough, he was trying to make the tables turn by accusing you of being crazy. That was so typical of men, but not of your Joel, you thought he would never do that, you were so sure he was honest, honorable, a decent human being, he wouldn't hurt you on purpose in order to prove his point. Or so you thought.

"Don't you fucking dare call me crazy, Joel Miller, for the past couple of months you haven't given a shit about me, you're never home, you never spend time with me, you don't hug me, don't kiss me, you don't even fuck me anymore, and now you are mumbling someone else's name? Who's she? Is she your mistress? How long have you been with her?"

Again, you tried being strong, you really did, but your voice cracked, and the tears threatening to escape now ran freely down your cheeks, he'd walked away from you, but you managed to corner him in the kitchen, you were tired of being blinded by your own feelings, at the same time you were tired of being played by Joel, he had no right to act that way.

"Answer me, Joel!!! Who's the fucking whore?!" You yelled at him, the impatience and anxiety creating an explosive combination inside of you. You were so close to solving the mystery that haunted you at the same time you didn't wanna hear any further word. You just wished you could close your eyes and make all that away, you wish you could just wake up and see the last couple of months were nothing but a nightmare and that you still had the same good old loving Joel Miller as the best husband in the world; instead, he simply groaned, rubbing his face and looked down, not having the courage of look at you in the eyes.

"She's not a whore, don't call her that. I-We.. we're in love. I met her at work, she's the receptionist there and we hit it off… she's gorgeous, funny and I fell for her" he swallowed not sure where the strength to be honest with you about his feelings was coming from, but it was enough to make eye contact "I've never cheated on you, Y/N, I haven't slept with her yet, I haven't even kissed her, but I think she's the one, I wanna be with her, I'm not gonna lie to you anymore"

"You don't love me anymore?" That was all you could ask, out of all the cruel and raw information he suddenly threw on you, the only thing you could register was the lack of feelings from the man who swore to love you forever one day.

"Jesus, Y/N, let's not do this now" he groaned, wanting to shift all that anger towards you, somehow blaming you for what happened so he wouldn't be consumed by his own guilt. He wasn't blind, he knew you loved him, he knew you waited at the door for him every single day, with dinner ready a pie in the oven and giving you those sad, heart eyes in hopes of receiving his affection once more. You reminded him of a puppy, as bad as it sounded, all it took you to be happy was a crumble of his love. What angered Joel was that you weren't satisfied with just crumbles, you wanted more and more from him, and he was unavailable; he simply couldn't give it to you, because his heart belonged to someone else. He hadn't planned on that happening, if it were up to him, he would've honored the vows he took on his wedding day, but Angela walked into his life without a warning and swept him off his feet. He couldn't stay with you out of pity, you deserved to be happy and so did you, but you weren't meant to be together.

"Do you love me or not, Joel?! Did you even love me?" Another grunt from his lips, you were so frustrated you didn't know how to rationalize, how to wrap your head around the fact he proposed to you, he had promised you the world and yet now he was treating you as if you had never mattered to him. His cowardice made you sick, he wasn't even man enough to look you in the eyes, you felt so angry a part of you was glad his body blocked your access to the silverware set because if you got your hands into it you knew at that moment you were willing to make a mistake. You gripped his shirt, slapping his chest and scratching him in a sloppy way, demanding answers from him. He could stop you at any moment, Joel was bigger and stronger than you, but he let you have your moment of hurting him out of pity, before calming gripping your arms and pushing you away

"I guess it's obvious I don't love you anymore, I love Angela, it's not my fault, it just happened, but I'm sure I want to be with her, you and I can't keep lying to ourselves, you can't keep lying to yourself, we're over, just as the love I felt from you, it's over…"

•••

You didn't remember much more after that. Some flashes of the following days, where the initial shock was still going strong, the waves of sadness mixed with anger, how Joel gathered some of his clothes and left the house that same night - probably to go to Angela's, how you refused to eat for the couple of days, you didn't talk to anyone, just spent your time alternating between crying yourself to sleep and actually sleeping, were just moments of blur. At some point you remember Tommy - Joel's brother checking up on you just to make sure you were alright. Tommy was the youngest of the Miller brothers, he was said to be the inconsequential one, but he would never do what his older brother had done.

Only after a few days Joel stopped by the house you once had shared, he had heard from his brother the pitiful mess you'd become because of him, and though a part of him didn't have the courage to ever face you again, another part - a more honorable one - insisted on it because he had to give you some kind of explanation. So after work, he didn't drive to Angela's like he'd been doing for the last few days, becoming his sweet routine and bringing so much joy now that he was free to love her just as much as she wanted to love him. Instead of going to his happy place, Joel drove back to the house that used to be his home for a while, a place where he'd been happy but it hadn't been enough for him. It was funny how he expected things to be drastically different, because his life had taken a dramatic turn just as yours had, and yet, things were just the same, or they appeared to be at least. He got off his truck, seeing that not a lot had changed, but this time there wasn't music coming from the house, it didn't smell like fresh cooked dinner, simply the living room with the lights on were the only thing that showed there was still someone in the house.

When he walked in, he expected to see you crying, depressed and begging him to get back, but much to his surprise, all your bags were already nearly packed and though it was visible you'd had some rough time by dark circles under your eyes and how pale your skin was, you welcomed him with a emotionless expression on your face, pointing at the couch, so he would take a seat and you could talk things through. After all the crying and suffering, you felt as if something had clicked and suddenly you went from heartbroken to numb. You knew the swirl of feelings would come and go, but taking advantage of your numbness, you put your head into place as best as you could and packed all your things, you didn't want to stay at that place surrounded by Joel memories, knowing he'd left the place you once called home and you were both so happy and also so unhappy in a short span of time. You wanted to put yourself back together, heal from him, forget he ever existed, go back to studying and focus on yourself only. But for that to happen, you wanted closure, not only wanting, you needed closure.

His low apologies combined with the rambling that came out of Joel's mouth was getting on your nerves, why couldn't he man up and actually tell you what he needed to in order to finally close that chapter in your lives.

"If you're not getting straight to the point, I will, Joel… I packed my bags, I am leaving this house, it's yours, your family managed to help you with it and I wouldn't feel comfortable living here. I'll go to college as soon as the next semester starts and I'll be waiting for the divorce papers, sign it as soon as possible, and pretend this never happened"

"Wait… what?! You want to divorce?!" Joel was quite shocked, not that he didn't want to divorce, because he did, so he could finally be officially with Angela, but he didn't think it would be that easy for you to agree, let alone be the one suggesting it.

You laughed. It was a dry, ironic laughter, because honestly, you didn't think Joel was that much of a dick, it was fascinating how he broke your heart and he still found a way to have his ego bruised by the fact you wouldn't accept being in a submission position, that you wouldn't cry and beg for him.

"What did you expect Joel?! That I would stay here, legally married to you, cooking and washing your dirty underwear while you go out of the door and keep cheating on me with that whore? Seriously? That's how low you think of me?"

"I already told you she isn't a whore and I have never cheated on you, that's why I want to divorce, us getting married was clearly a mistake and it's not my fault if I don't love you anymore.."

"So whose fault is it? Mine?! Do you really think what you did isn't cheating, Joel? Just because you hadn't fucked her while we were still together, but you had spent time with her, emotionally connected with her, fuck, just the fact you let her get closer to you even though you were married, that's cheating! You say it isn't because you don't want to feel guilty, but deep down inside you just know it is! I agree with you on one thing, though: our marriage was a stupid mistake, because of you I delayed a whole year of my life, I almost sacrificed my future because I really took your words and believed them, that we would be together, I never thought out of all the people in the world, you would be the one to hurt me! I trusted you, do you even know how many times I cried and sulked because I blamed myself for your behavior? The amount of times I felt guilty for even remotely considering the possibility of you having someone else? Because in my mind you'd always been the perfect husband and yet, you were backstabbing me day after day, with that slut!"

"Don't you fucking call her a slut! She's not a slut, she's not a whore! It's not her fault if you are a petty envious woman!"

"She is a slut Joel, I'm sure of it, because if she had any decency she wouldn't have come closer to a married man, my husband! She is probably excited about the thrill, but I'm certain that once the reality hits and she sees herself locked inside having to carry out chores everyday, take care of the house, the husband and even the kids if you two ever come to it, it's not gonna be as fun, and then you'll meet her for real. I don't wish you anything bad, but god help you if you ever have to face a disappointment as big as mine"

You dried your tears and began removing your wedding ring, it was quite pricey taking into account how complicated your financial situation was. You intended to return it to him, but the mere thought of maybe Joel taking the ring and handing it to his former mistress and soon-to-be official girlfriend, was enough to make you nauseated. You gave up removing it and left the ring right there.

"I'm leaving this place tomorrow, you can send the divorce papers over to my parents' and I hope I'll never see you again, Joel"

•••

You wished you could say that was the last time you ever saw Joel Miller in your life, but unfortunately, things weren't too easy for you. Only two months before you could finally enter college and forget about the disastrous year you had, you were working double shifts at the mall, in hopes of saving a decent amount of money for yourself. It was supposed to be another lazy evening, in which you would have to kill time until you could go home, you had just had your break and as you walked back into the store, you couldn't help but pay attention to your left hand. The wedding ring still there. It brought you shame and embarrassment, the mere fact you left it there. You often lied to people and to yourself by saying it was a way of keeping disrespectful customers away, but the truth was, you just didn't know why it was so hard to do it. It felt like a weight you couldn't get rid of, a part of your life that seemed like nothing but delusion.

You were scared of removing that ring, it was a sign that Joel wouldn't be much more than a memory to you, and even if you knew that was exactly what you needed, your heart still yearned for him. It wasn't fair, to still love the person who had hurt you the most, burying deep those feelings but also knowing they were there was nerve wracking.

You were ready to get back to work, just about to enter the store you were so used to spending your whole day when you felt paralyzed.

"What do you think of this one, darling? Do you think our baby will like it?"

It was Joel's voice.

His voice.

Darling.

Our baby.

You stopped yourself right there, too far away from their distracted eyes, taking in all the colorful and beautiful options they had before them, but also close enough so you could actually hear the conversation. Joel Miller was going to be a dad, it was a fact, you weren't having a nightmare that you were about to wake up in cold sweat at any minute, instead, he was there, with her, the woman he dumped you for, the woman who was now carrying his child. Under the shelves you'd been hiding, you could only catch a glimpse of her baby bump, and the way Joel's hand rested over it in a protective way. It was enough to make your stomach upset, your eyes burning with the tears that once more insisted on appearing. He had moved on from you, much faster than you had moved on from him; their happiness could be beautiful to anyone, but to you it was disgusting, infuriating, they had no right to come to your place of work and be so glad about life itself.

You couldn't actually see Angela's face, all you were able to watch from where you stood was Joel's hand on her womb, his right one, but the moment he rested his left one on her waist, you gasped softly. The wedding ring was gone.

Joel wasn't feeling that comfortable about being at that particular store, though it was the only decent baby clothing store at the mall, he knew you worked there or at least used to; but Angela wanted new baby stuff and he was going to be a dad, so it was his duty to take her and help her sort things out. He thought of you, not having seen you or listened to your voice in months he sort of missed you? He couldn't lie to himself, he was glad to be divorced, he was happy in a relationship with a baby on the way, but you'd been important to him too, he wished things didn't have to end the way they did, he has gotten used to living with you, seeing you, kissing you, touching you, it was natural that he missed the dynamics you two had established. A part of him sort of wanted to run into you at the store, he wanted to see how you were doing, if you were taking good care of yourself, but it was a relief to everyone you weren't there. It would be just awkward and embarrassing to be baby clothes shopping in front of you. And of course, he never wanted to hurt you more than he had already done it, but you would have probably interpreted it as provocation.

He scratched down his head while Angela picked all her favorites, Joel tried hard not to pay attention to the price tags, money was still a delicate matter for the two of them, but he had managed to get some by selling his wedding ring. Of course the pair would've been worth a lot more, but he couldn't go after you to ask for your ring, so he just negotiated his own and took the money. It wasn't the ideal situation, but in a few months they'd welcome the tiny little person that would become the most important thing in Joel's life.

You were too hurt to continue watching their display of happiness, you turned your back to the place you were hiding and you returned to the small break room. That was indeed the last time you'd seen Joel Miller; that was it until you also met someone who brought chaos but also colors into your life.

•••

"Aren't you too old to sell cookies door to door for school?" Joel asked while chewing his scrambled eggs and slurped his coffee, watching as his daughter rolled her eyes at him

"Aren't you too old not to eat your vegetables?" She snapped back at him in their usual morning routine.

Sarah was a teenager, much to Joel's sadness, as he still had serious attachments to when she was younger. He knew it was part of life, and watching her blossoming into a beautiful young girl made him proud and hopeful about the future, he knew his sweet Sarah would go far. But that also made him scared, because no matter how irrational it was, Sarah always reminded him of you; and he knew that if any guy ever dared to do to his baby girl, what he did to you, he would be really to kill him in no time. Joel Miller would like to think he had improved a lot as a human being, after all, he wasn't a young man anymore, he was a full grown adult, who had to get himself together and mature after he was abandoned by his girlfriend with a newborn baby. Life was full of irony and he was one to witness it, being left by the woman he loved and trusted a little more than a year after he was the one who walked away from someone who loved and trusted him. It was what everyone said: karma is really a bitch.

Through the years, Joel really felt an urge to call you, perhaps ask you to meet him, so you could catch up and he could finally apologize to you, but he had lost all contact with you. In fact he had no idea what you were up to through the decades, the few times your parents ran into him on the street or at the grocery store and made sure to ignore his presence and pretend they'd never met. He just couldn't approach them and ask for your phone number. Besides, what would he even tell you?

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you the woman I left you for also left me, so now I'm a lonely single dad and I realized I took you for granted and maybe if you ain't busy, we could go for a cup of coffee or something?!"

It would be just straight up stupid, not to mention he was sure you would've found someone nice, someone worthy of you, probably you'd be married by then, perhaps you'd have a kid or two, and he was sure you'd be an amazing mother, because he just knew you were an amazing wife, and he was the only one to blame for not treating you the way you deserved it.

So Joel decided it was best if he pretended nothing ever happened just like you did with him, of course destiny had other plans.

He gave Sarah a ride to school and went to work. It would be another busy day, like all of his days, in which he would work hard in order to save as much money as he could, wanting to assure his daughter the future she deserved. For Sarah, it meant another day of classes and selling cookies. She didn't like the activity, but she didn't hate it either. In fact, on that particular day she felt kind of excited as she was about to head towards the 'good' part of the neighborhood, where most houses were big and seemed expensive. Getting her backpack and her stash of goodies to sell, she left home and went on with her day.

You, on the other hand, hadn't planned on coming back to Austin so soon, as the years turned into a decade, and then a little bit more than that, you had dedicated yourself fully to your academic and professional life, focusing on yourself only, managing to bury deep your memories of Joel and never paying attention to anything remotely close to a love life.

Yes, you'd had relationships, affairs, and you'd been with a few guys: one of them was Javier, he was a handsome but very slutty cop who you had a no-string relationship with; it was good for a while, he was handsome, sexy and he fucked like no other, but he had a taste for women that unabled himself to keep it inside of his pants. You liked the freedom, but that was too much.

You also dated a guy named Dave for a brief period, he was nice, also painfully handsome, a tiny bit mysterious about his high profile government job, but he wanted a family, not just another relationship. He wanted marriage and kids, and you were just out of it in no time. The last straw was when you were traveling back home and during one stop for dinner at a small, cozy bar, a guy dressed entirely in cowboy attire came onto you. It was the undeniable proof you weren't made for relationships at all; it was like Joel Miller had casted a spell, or worse, a curse on you: it had become impossible for you to be in a relationship. Still, that wasn't your main concern, not more than why you had to move back to Austin after all those years shifting from New York to Boston, Texas and even a brief period in Spain which led you into an affair with another guy named Javier, but well, that was definitely another story. You'd simply got a phone call from your parents talking about a family emergency and once you had asked for a leave, your boss had mentioned the opportunity of you working for the Austin branch, it was a promising one, with a lot of chances of career growth and becoming the head of the office would actually come in handy, so you had no other option than say yes and pack your stuff. When you got back to Texas, despite the suffocating heat, you were also welcomed with suffocating news of your grandmother's passing, and a couple of weeks later, the news she'd left you a house in the suburbs, a real good area with many families, easy traffic and a lot of space. Having become an apartment person over the years, you first thought it was so odd to live in a house, especially by yourself. Everything seemed so big but now you didn't have to worry about having to clean it all, being able to afford someone to do so, you found your way by decorating everything exactly the way you liked it, using the spare rooms to build your home office, your closet space and a guest room, you slowly turned grandma's house into your own. However, the exterior still bothered you: there was a great space in the backyard, but the swimming pool was empty and dirty, and you could definitely have a barbecue area built so you could welcome your friends and family on weekends. As it wasn't your priority, you didn't bother so much about it, turning your attention to settling into your new office first.

•••

"Oh, hi ma'am, I'm selling cookies to help our school fund, would you be interested?" Sarah displayed a wide grin, hoping that would soften up the very annoyed looking old woman who opened the door. She noticed how the old lady looked at her up and down and just groaned a 'no' before practically slamming the door shut. Sarah sighed and shook her head, and there she was thinking the people who lived in the wealthier part of the neighborhood were more generous, but apparently they were just a bunch of snobbish cunts. Her stomach growled in hunger as she walked some more, she knew she should've eaten before going to sell the cookies, but she didn't have time at that moment. She insisted some more, knocking on another door, having no clue she was actually knocking on her father's ex-wife's door.

Sighing tiredly as you closed your laptop, you looked around and focused on what you would do next. You knew you needed to go grocery shopping soon, but you just didn't feel like driving to the store and pick up vegetables, so instead, you left your study and went to the living room, getting comfortable on the couch and groaning slightly the moment the doorbell rang. You were just so comfortable on the couch, you considered ignoring whoever was on the other side of the door, but for some reason, a slight wave of guilt made its presence and you obliged to answer whoever was disturbing you.

"Hello! My name's Sarah Miller and we're selling cookies for the school fund, would you be interested?" The smiley girl repeated her memorized speech the moment you open the door, she discreetly watched you, seeing you didn't seem so closed like the woman from the previous house, but still she wasn't sure if you were friendly, not when you stared at her with a seemingly shocked look.

Miller.

Her name was Miller.

Your heart raced and lost track of what she was saying, knowing you desperately needed to get your shit back together; Miller wasn't an uncommon name at all, quite the opposite, you had met a few people who also coincidentally had the same last name as your ex-husband, so your reaction to the girl's name was just absurd. Maybe it was because you were back in Austin, where everything happened, but then again, you reminded yourself Joel wasn't the only person named Miller in Texas.

"I-I'm sorry… I got distracted but yeah, I'll take two boxes" you smiled at the girl, she was a teenager, a very pretty one, she was pretty good at expressing herself though she looked exhausted and sweaty.

"Would you like to drink some water?" You offered her, feeling sorry for her at the realization she had probably been walking under the sunlight for quite some time. Sarah didn't think twice before nodding eagerly as she stepped inside, dragging her school bag and her cookie cart along. You let her in, finding sweet how she looked all over the place, taking in the different details from your home and enjoying that environment.

You guided her to the kitchen, getting her a tall glass of iced water, frowning at the fact she wasn't following you anymore. Instead, she stood in front of your bookshelf, looking at it up and down, trying to take in as many titles as she could. Sarah would love to have her own bookshelf like that, she loved reading ever since she was a little girl and though she used the school's library a lot, she thought the idea of having her own things was appealing, but she understood her dad couldn't simply splurge on books for her whenever she wanted to.

"Do you like books?" You asked her, walking closer and handing her the glass of water, which she killed with only a few gulps.

"Have you read all of them?!" Her surprised voice made you chuckle, she was such a sweet girl, you had no idea why you instantly liked her, but you did.

"Well, not all of them… I've just bought some of them and I haven't had the time yet, why? Did any of them interest you?"

"Well…" she said shyly and hesitantly ran her fingers through them, only pulling one out to read the description at your encouraging nod. "This one seems nice…"

"It is nice… do you want it? You can take it!" You smiled at how she blinked a little confused but nodded, so thankful for your kindness. Even if she didn't know you, Sarah already liked you. She smiled at the book and placed the glass down.

"Have you had lunch?" She shook her head shyly and you smiled "come on, I'll make you a sandwich…"

For the next hour, you and Sarah talked about several things: she told you about her school, her interests and how much she loved reading. She had assured you she would return you the book as soon as she finished it and you assured her she could borrow as many as she would like. She also briefly talked about her family, mentioning she lived with her dad on the other side of the neighborhood and you told her a little bit more about yourself.

She widened her eyes the moment she saw what time it really was, and quickly grabbed her backpack and the book you'd lent her, thank you several times as she walked towards the door "go before your mom gets worried about you" you told her without much thinking, but she shrugged "mom's not around… I live with my dad only, but it was really nice meeting you, Y/N"

•••

And for the next month, at least once a week you'd get a visit from Sarah. It had become a habit of hers to just stop by, spend a couple of hours with you, return you the book she'd borrowed the week before and get a new one. She didn't talk much about her family, it was mostly about school, friends and boy crushes and books. You were kind of suspicious she was missing a feminine figure, since she briefly told you her mom left a couple of months after she was born without looking back, you picked up the hint she wasn't open to talk about it yet, and you respected it. You were glad you unexpectedly got a new friend, a very young friend, and at first you thought it was kind of odd, until you realized she sort of resembled a daughter figure to you. After all, if you had had children with Joel, your child would be around Sarah's age.

Joel also thought it was kind of weird his daughter made an adult friend, he was well aware of how dangerous things were in the world, especially for young, innocent girls like Sarah, but when she told him her new friend was a woman, single, childless woman, who was nice, definitely had some money but also seemed quite lonely, he assumed she was one of those old cat lady kind of women; in his mind, his daughter's mysterious friend was probably a widow, who didn't have any kids and now had to approach random people for attention so she wouldn't be alone all the time. If only he knew how wrong he was, he would've asked your name, but he didn't. And he also knew he should've done it, perhaps even asked for your phone number so he could call you in case of god forbid, an emergency. But he worked so hard, not only that, he was going through a very stressful period too, so he didn't pay as much attention as he should have towards several things.

Sarah had become acquainted with several aspects of your life, from the time you spent together in your weird version of a book club. Mostly the conversations were about her and the struggles she often faced as a teenager, but sometimes you let out information, plans or complaints here and there. It wasn't different the day you were very displeased with how your backyard was looking; it had potential to be a beautiful place but it needed fixing and remodeling. Perhaps it'd been the stress at work, but for whatever reason the way that place looked was bothering you and making you cranky, if any other given day you wouldn't give a crap about it, but at that moment you did, and not only that, you mentioned it to Sarah, who tried to be useful and told you she could ask her dad to take a look at it, after all, he was in the business and could help you with it. You said yes and told her you'd be expecting the two of them on Saturday morning. Only when the girl had left happily carrying another book in hands, was that you realized that maybe, and just maybe, you should've asked her father's name.

•••

"So, you're really sure this friend of yours wants to get some stuff remodeled? And that she can afford it?" Joel glanced at Sarah before focusing again on the street as he drove to her new friend's house. He wasn't truly convinced you would actually want to hire his services, it just seemed too good to be true. He held back a smile at the way Sarah rolled her eyes at him, she'd told him hundreds of times that yes, you needed someone to repair and remodel the backyard, if anything, he could at least indicate you someone who could provide the service you were looking for.

"Fine, let's help the old lady then" he grunted at the same time his daughter turned to him "what old lady?!"

"Your friend… isn't she old? I mean, she's lonely and she lets you hang out… I thought she'd be like our neighbor an-"

"Dad, she's younger than you, I think! And she's pretty too…"

At that information Joel was more curious about you. Why was a pretty young woman all alone and willing to be friends with a girl who could roughly be her kid's age?! Were you really pretty? And did you really want your backyard remodeled or was Sarah playing matchmaker? He really hoped she wasn't, otherwise he would be very angry. Joel didn't need a new relationship, he didn't want to, having failed the two major ones he had in his life, the first one being so immature and cruel to his sweet young wife and the second one he didn't exactly where he screwed up, perhaps he had just been naive and thought the woman who wanted nothing more than just some fun was actually willing to build a life with, or maybe he wanted her to take over your place, after all, you'd set the bar pretty high for Angela when it came on being a dedicated housewife. The raw fact was that Joel was alone all those years later, his first wife was hopefully living her best years with someone who truly deserved her and Angela was God knows where but he didn't give a single fuck. She'd been dead to him from the moment she walked out of his door, denying her own baby, and all that passion he felt turned into hurt and anger. Unlike the feelings he had for you: as the years passed and he grew older, he thought of several times he could've treated you better than he did, he thought of how he would have tried not hurting you as much as he did, even if the situation the two of you were was tricky, he often fantasized about a version of your marriage where he hadn't ruined everything, where he had been honest without being cruel, without playing with your feelings, he didn't know if it was just his conscious weighing heavily on him or what, but he always thought of you with affection and love. At that time he was sure he didn't love you anymore, the passion he felt for the other woman was too intense, too much, it blinded and deafened him from everything around, everything that mattered the most to him at the time. But all those years later, Joel was sure the love for you was still there, perhaps it was just hidden away, or it got stuck under all that shit that went on, still, he didn't know who you had become, what you looked like or where you were at that moment, so it was a fairly assumption he was still in love with a memory and nothing more than that.

"Fine, so what's her name after all?" He questioned his daughter after some moment of silence but before she could answer, Joel parked his truck in front of your home.

You heard the engine and you went to the window, checking the unknown car parked in front of your place and though you couldn't actually see them inside, you knew it was Sarah and her dad. Just as you went to the door, he exited the car, his back to the entrance as you walked to them and greeted Sarah, at the sound of your voice he immediately turned around and the two of you froze in time as you watched each other there.

Joel.

You felt as if you were trapped in a weird dream, the ones you know you are just dreaming and yet you can't move or speak, just taking the role of the audience of a bizarre picture that formed before your eyes. Joel on the other hand, stared at you in complete silence, you couldn't really read him, it was impossible to know what was going on in his mind, in his heart, you could just feel his eyes roaming over your body, taking all the image of you as if he was trying to make sure you were actually what he saw in front of him. He couldn't believe it, after all those years, after everything he did to you, you were there, beautiful as you'd always been, even more so, the fancy lifestyle really suited you, he could tell by your clothes, your nails perfectly done, your hair looking gorgeous and styled nicely, you had succeeded, you had had a life he knew he could never provide you, and for that he felt kind of relieved, at least one good thing came out of your divorce: the chance of you having the success you deserved it, you weren't that housewife who needed to still work part time at the mall, you were above that now, and Joel was so damn proud of you for it.

"I-I.. yo-"

"Nice to meet you, you must be Sarah's dad" you interrupted him before he could say your name and extended your hand to him, pretending you'd just met. He was confused but you tilted your head very discreetly towards his daughter, being sure she didn't know anything that had happened between the both of you. He immediately picked up the hint and introduced himself, as if you were meeting for the first time. His hand engulfed yours like it always did, Joel Miller had always had big and strong hands, surely they got calloused through the years, but you knew damn well what they were capable of doing to you. He was older, looking more handsome than you thought he would, he aged like a fine wine, streaks of silver here and there but the majority of his hair still dark and soft like always, he was bigger too, he was stronger, broad and grew several muscles, all of it a result of years of hard-working. No matter if he had broken your heart, there was no denying he was an extremely attractive man.

He appreciated how heartfelt you were towards his daughter and gladly followed you inside once you invited him into the backyard to discuss what could be done. Sarah was right behind the two of you, but you turned to her, smiling big

"I went to the bookstore yesterday and I think you might enjoy what I bought, wanna take a look at it? They're all in the living room" you suggested to her who nodded and happily went after the books.

Once you and Joel got into the backyard, he stuttered some apologies but you immediately cut him off.

"I don't want apologies Joel, I didn't know Sarah was your daughter and I probably wouldn't have let her in if I knew who she was, but now I got attached to her and I hope our situation isn't going to prevent us from being friends" you told him honestly and watched as he nodded

"You know, her mom, Angela, she left us and I'm very sorry I left you for her.. "

"I don't wanna hear it, Joel. As I said, I don't wanna hear it about her mom or the apologies or anything at all, I mean, Sarah told me what happened and it's enough, you and I aren't together anymore, we're better off without each other, so let's just overcome this part and focus on the job I need you to do…"

"You know, I can indicate you another contractor to do it for you, so it won't be weird…"

"No, you can do it, unless you are feeling uncomfortable but other than that, I'd rather you do it, besides, Sarah would find it awkward"

And like that, Joel got into his professional mood and the two of you discussed the project you had in mind, hiring his services, he told you he could start the next Monday and he would take care of it himself, to make sure things would go according to your wishes. He noticed you didn't wear any commitment rings, nor there were pictures of you and any guy indicating a relationship and in his heart, the hope of perhaps taking you out for a coffee and getting to know you, the woman you'd become after those years, after growing mature and changing your life completely, growing in his heart. It was a fair assumption Joel had an immediate crush on you, the feelings he held within, were now blossoming more, at how beautiful, intelligent and attractive you were and suddenly, the roles were reversed: if more than ten years ago you had it bad for him, now he was the one who felt like a sick love puppy towards you.

The first week of working wasn't so bad at all, Joel would arrive at yours earlier than you expected and would start working. You didn't stay around much, letting him do his job while you were probably working in the living room or any other part of the house whenever you didn't have to go to work per se. He tried making small talk during some of his breaks and since you didn't see any harm in it, you chatted briefly, that was how he'd learned what you did for a living, where you'd been after you left Austin, and stuff like that. He told you some things about his life, mostly about how it'd been the experience of raising a child on his own, but whenever he got near bringing up your past or trying to apologize, you'd cut up any kind of interaction with him. At the end of the day you and him had nothing but a professional relationship. He understood your reasons, and yet, he hoped you would find at least a small breach in your heart to let him in, he really hoped he could show you he was a better man now, that he could be suitable for you, and yet, you kept yourself all the way distant and protecting yourself from him.

So it became a very common scene to always escape from Joel, moving seats or rooms whenever he was around, you didn't know how else to act, what he expected from you. It wasn't like you were old buddies catching up after years in a long-distance relationship. And he always got displeased.

It was about the third week of working at your house, he asked if he could use your kitchen to have lunch, heating up the food he'd eat, you smiled at yourself as you were taken back by the memories of times where you would prepare him lunches and send it in his lunchbox, how you would worry about him being hungry so you would always make sure there was something fresh out of the oven for him to nibble on as soon as he got home from work and chuckled softly, shaking your head and excusing yourself. He'd thought you would at least have lunch next to him, but you weren't willing to do that at all, and that both pained and pissed him off.

"Would it kill you to spend time with me? Look at me? Or act like a human being instead of being all stiff like a robot whenever I'm around?" He asked, breaking the silence, you could see he was frustrated and that puzzled you to no end.

"What are you talking about, Joel?!"

"You don't talk to me, Y/N, I try making small talk, you don't answer me, you don't even look at me, suddenly I'm not worth your time? You're too good to even acknowledge I am next to you?"

"Do you really want to talk about not being worth someone's time? Really Joel? I thought you had grown up during all these years but I can see you are just the same shallow fuckboy who gets pissed off when you see I'm not crawling towards you…"

"Stop being unfair to me! All I'm trying to do is to show you I've changed, I am a better man, a better person, I'm not that same immature Joel you met so many years ago, I'm trying to make you see I'm a new man…" he went from angry to desperate, you took a step closer and looked into his eyes, not breaking the eye contact for one second.

"I know Joel, I know you've changed… you've grown into this hardworking man, this amazing father, I can see it, I hear it every time Sarah comes over, but you don't have to try too hard, it's not gonna change anything… You and I are two different people, we have nothing to do with each other anymore"

"You can't say that, I want you to see we could try it again, I still love you, Y/N!"

"Joel, we'll never try it again, the marks of your betrayal still linger here, all over me, forgetting you was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I don't want to ever feel it again. You don't love me, Joel. You love the idea of me, of picking up the shattered parts of your broken life and making it right, you love the thought of building up a family, of giving your daughter the mom she deserves, and it's all because it didn't work out with that woman. We both know it… if she hadn't left you wouldn't even be thinking of me" you looked down, trying to hold back a tear that insisted on falling, but failing at that matter. "I wasn't good enough to be by your side, to build a family with you, you can't just expect me to throw myself into your arms as if nothing had happened, what exactly do you think would happen between us in the first place? I'd be waiting for you every single night with dinner ready? Those days were over, Joel…" you sniffed and he sighed, placing his hand on his waist.

"Give me a chance, go on a date with me, please… before you say no, just think about it, of what we could have together… please! You don't have to answer me now, think about it and when I finish the job, you can tell me your answer"

•••

The following weeks were as normal as they could be; you hadn't told Joel yes but you hadn't told him no either and even if it pained you to admit it, you sometimes thought of his proposition. Sarah was still coming over, your bond was now stronger, you really liked each other and despite everything that happened, you were thankful Joel wasn't against your friendship. You two had agreed on not telling her anything about your shared past at the moment, but in case you two decided she needed to know it for whatever reason, Joel would be the one to tell her, it would only make sense. You also thought about his words and you decided to be nicer to him, actually stopping to talk to him, or having lunch next to him instead of rushing away as fast as you could and in retribution, he stopped with the feelings talk. The deadline was coming to an end, as your backyard remodeling was getting prettier and prettier each passing day. It was odd and awkward and you wanted to get things over with as soon as possible at the same time a strange fascination with watching Joel caught you. It was hard to explain, but when the final day came, when Joel and his assistant showed you the word ready and done, and after you paid them the large wage you owed them for the services, your ex-husband asked to talk to you. He had hope in his eyes, he was wearing his flannel, and he'd combed his hair a little, which made him look painfully handsome, your heart clenched. Even before he could say anything, you already had your answer. He stood in front of you, baffled at the fact you threw your arms around his body, pulling him for a hug. His hands locked around your waist, strong grip not wanting to let go, while you sank into his warmth. He was your old Joel, the one you'd loved so deeply and broke your heart, but nonetheless your Joel.

Taking your hand to his face, you stroked it gently, feeling his beard scratching your palm a little and you smiled "I forgive you, Joel… I don't know if you wanted my forgiveness or not, but I forgive you anyway, I don't resent you anymore, what's gone, it's gone and now we can only focus on our future. I know that if I tried looking for a space in my heart, I would find it a part that still keeps all the love I felt for you, but we've changed, for the best and that teaches us we should never make the same mistakes from the past, so you do understand why we can't go on this date, right? We can't be together, I'm sorry Joel, but you know it's true… I just need one last thing from you…"

You told him, leaning towards him and pecking his lips. After all that time, it still felt like your favorite place in the world, your heart raced the moment he groaned into your mouth and his hands tightened his dominating grip on you. It was quite pathetic how he still had the same effect over you and if he hadn't hurt you as much as he did and condemned you two to a relationship based on lack of trust, perhaps you could even consider trying again. Forgiving and forgetting were different things, whereas you didn't resent him anymore, you hadn't forgotten about how broken he left your heart. You would never be able to trust him again, always worrying he had found someone better like he did once, you couldn't do that to yourself, you loved yourself too much to go back to Joel Miller. That last kiss you cherished, you would keep it in your memories, but it wouldn't go further than that. You and Joel were done for years and nothing would convince you otherwise.

____

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it 😭💔

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller tlou #tlou show #tlou fanfiction

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rebelfell · 3 months

Text

Currently being plagued by thoughts of an older!fem!Harrington!reader... 18+, MDNI

Like you’re Steve's aunt, late 30s/early 40s.

And you have always been kind of a fuck-up compared to your "perfect" older sister who got the good grades and who every guy in school had a crush on; who married the rich, handsome dude and popped out a kid and lives in this big house in this picture-perfect suburban neighborhood.

And you tried to do all that, too—really, you did. But your husband ex turned out to be an asshole, and he's got a really good lawyer so he's probably gonna get the house in the divorce.

So you move into your sister's for the summer because they're gonna be in Europe and they’d prefer someone be there to keep an eye on Steve who's home from college and tends to get a little out of control when he's left unsupervised...

And one day you’re woken up from a nap by the loud, relentless grinding of a lawnmower and look out your window to see the gardener.

He's young. Maybe Steve's age if not a touch older. And he is just stunning. So Beautiful it is hard to look at him, but in your current state, staring at him is about all you can do.

Alabaster skin decorated with black ink, dark curls tied up in a bun to keep them off his sticky neck. Threadbare tank top clinging to his slender frame he's so drenched with sweat from the heat. Arm and leg muscles flexing, shiny with sweat.

Then suddenly he stops and his eyes drift to the upstairs window to lock onto yours. You freeze in place, wondering if he can even see you, and just when you’ve convinced yourself he can't...a smile curls across his lips and he raises his hand to wiggle his fingers at you in a wave.

And it makes you fling yourself away from the window, knocking into the dresser and sending your make-up rolling over the top. And it hits you now, far too late, that you were just staring at him wearing nothing but sleep shorts and a camisole. One that did absolutely nothing to conceal how hard your nipples were.

Jesus Christ—what were you thinking? Staring at this guy like some horned-up teenager?

What is wrong with you?

You yank the curtains closed and hide in your room until you're certain he's gone. And by the time Steve comes home for dinner, your hair is wet from the cold shower you had to take when you couldn't stop imagining what it would be like if instead of mowing the lawn, that guy had come running upstairs to trim your hedges.

Seriously...what the fuck is wrong with you?

Then a couple days later the heat spikes to an oppressive degree. You put on your suit and are dancing in the kitchen, stirring up something cool and sweet to sip by the pool, crushing some fresh mint to add into the pitcher.

And you hear a splash. A big one.

Your head whips around to look out the window just in time to see that familiar head of dark curls bursting through the surface. He swings his head wildly like a dog, flipping his long hair out of his face before he dunks himself back in the water.

It's not panic that stops you in your tracks this time, but rage. What the hell is the gardener doing swimming in your sister's pool?

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

Your voice is commanding as you storm out onto the pool deck, but your cover-up isn't tied around your waist so it flies open behind you to reveal the shape of your body. And you kind of can’t squash the prickle of shame at the thought of this young guy seeing all your cellulite up close.

He turns toward you, awfully smiley for someone who just got caught trespassing. And his eyes are bright as he looks you up and down, the rays of sun hitting them just right so his deep brown irises glow like the richest honey.

Nope, nope. You're not gonna be flustered this time. You're not, you're not, you're not—

"Just waiting for you, sweetheart,” he says.

His voice is too smooth for his own good, words dripping from his lips the way water drips from his bangs and runs down his handsome features. You roll your eyes and feel your hands settling on your cocked hips. It's a stance you often find yourself in, wishing it was more intimidating. An inherited trait, you guess, considering how your nephew would stand the exact same way sometimes.

"Since when do gardeners get swimming privileges?" you scoff, eyes narrowing.

He just glances around at the freshly mown lawn, grass looking lush despite the sweltering heat.

"Didn't I do a good job? Don't I deserve a reward?"

The sun beating down overhead would be easy to blame for the way your body gets hot all over just from the way he says it, his brow arching to drive home his meaning, as if you couldn't tell.

"Take that up with your boss when she's back on this side of the Atlantic. For now, you can take a hike before I call the cops.”

A plush pink lip juts out in an exaggerated pout, but he shrugs his shoulders in an admission of defeat. He plants his palms flat on the concrete, forgoing the ladder and the steps to lift himself out of the pool to stand directly in front of you.

Water spills over his pale shoulders, rivulets of it running down the planes of his back and body you have to purposefully tear your eyes away from. He's not even in a bathing suit, just the same pair of ratty black jeans cut off into shorts he'd mown the lawn in just days prior.

He's still smirking, all sly and as he takes one last long look at you before he saunters away. And in spite of yourself, you glance over your shoulder to watch him as he goes, eyes drawn to a tattoo of a broadsword that starts between his shoulders and runs down the length of his spine, the tip of the blade ending just above the small of his back.

He pauses at the gate and shoots one last look back at you, clearly pleased to have caught you ogling him again—and fucking winks.

And he does leave, but now you’re all frustrated and flustered and too pent up to even attempt at relaxing now. So you give up on your swim and go to the store instead, the trip taking longer than it should because you don't—or can't—stop yourself from thinking about this guy.

You’re certain he had to be messing with you. What else besides an ego boost would a young guy like him get out of flirting with someone like you? A divorcee a decade older than him? Please. He probably had his pick of the litter in a town as small as Hawkins. All dark and wild, mysterious and dangerous and…

God—why did he have to be so hot? It would be so much easier to ignore him if he weren't.

Then you finally get back, cranky and tired and struggling under the weight of all your groceries. And when you push open the door and step into the foyer, you freeze in place again.

Because there he is. Splayed out on the couch, his knees spread wide, his long hair a little damp. Smiling at you all pleased with himself, like he’s been waiting for you. Cocky, even.

Like he planned it this way.

It all makes you gape, your mouth hanging open in total disbelief as you drop your bag at the door and draw your breath to snap at him.

"What are you—"

"Hey, you're home!"

Steve cuts you off as he strides into the living room, coming from the kitchen holding a couple of beers. He passes one to the guy on the couch, who's grinning like he ate a whole menagerie of canaries, and Steve nods in your direction.

"This is my aunt I was telling you about."

Those dark brown eyes rove freely over you now, no light shining in them this time as he smiles into the mouth of the bottle he's raising to his lips.

"Hey, there," he says, wiggling those long fingers at you all over again. "I'm Eddie."

#welp #I couldn’t sleep and now this exists #so that’s how things are going #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfiction #TSITA

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mouthfullofmunson · 3 months

Text

Pest Eddie returns! :)

This time, husband edition!!

Now that you are finally “settled down” and live together it seems like almost every time Eddie takes a smoke break outside late at night he brings in some furry creature

And not something nice

Like a little kitten or a dog with no owner

Opossums, a raccoon once, once he brought in two mice, he’s brought in spiders before, grasshoppers, worms, snakes

And he tries SO hard not to take no for an answer, but after touring you for almost an hour with whatever creature he’s brought in he smiles and goes “happy wife, happy life!” And takes the monster back outside

After to get married he’s very very excited to be able to officially call you his wife

Because well, he never thought he’d be a married man!

And for the first month of your marriage anytime you’re out he’s always pulling your hand up and showing the ring off to strangers “I’ve got a wife, no thanks!” And he specifically does it to old men, especially the ones who want to stair at his with his long hair, his tattoos, and his dark clothings

Or sometimes if you lean in and wrap your arm around his or even sit back down next to him after leaving your table to run to the bathroom or something he will make sure to say loud enough “what are you doing, lady? I’ve got a wife!”

Just because he likes to embarrass you as much as he can to see your cheeks get red and apologize to everyone around you

And he always get the same reply, “you’re such a little shit” between gritted teeth

Speaking of him being a little shit

I always just kind of think of him having a career as a tattoo artist, I’m not exactly sure why, I think it’s because he likes to doodles, and it fits him pretty well

But since he’s a tattoo artist, a lot of time before bed he’s pulling out his sketch book, just thinking of ideas for his flash book or maybe sketching a new tattoo for himself, or just doodling to doodle

But he will turn the sketch book over to you, showing off a sketch of boobs in the corner of his book “guess who’s?” And he laughs, slapping his knee and giggling

And he has definitely come home before with your name covering his neck saying “look, sweetheart. Finally got something for you.” And your jaw drops, trying to figure out weather to start screaming or book a appointment to remove it

“Is that fucking real, Eddie? Do not tell me that’s real I swear to god I’ll get the divorce papers”

And he starts chuckling, shaking his head “it’s just a stencil. It’ll wash off. I just thought It’d be funny! You should’ve seen your face!”

He’s SUCHHH a pest I can’t get over it

I can just imagine him coming out of the shower before bed, usually he’s in just his plaid boxers to go to sleep but this time he comes out in your pink lace panties and he acts like nothing is different until you spot him, and he turns around showing off his ass “I think they look pretty good!”

And when you’re changing, or when he sees you naked or half naked at all really he’s snapping photos, a smile on his pretty face while he snaps as many as he can until he hears you yell “someone has to develop those, you know! They have to see that!” He rolls his eyes, laughing and snapping one last photo before shoving the camera away

And when he’s on the phone with you he either does one of two different things

He answer the phone with “how are the kids?” Really just to throw you off and annoy you

Or in the middle of you talking he will give you a deep sign “fuck baby, keep talking I’m almost there.” 9/10 times you hang up and he smiles until you call back a minute later

And the most pest like thing he does

Well when you’re out with your family and he’s getting a little bored and feeling VERYYYY annoying he will randomly stand up, with a large smile on his face (you, already in the know of what he’s about to pull is trying to yank him back down to his seat weather that be in a restaurant or in your dining room) then announced that you’re pregnant- with twins if he wants the extra shock factor

When you and Eddie announced that you were getting married your families did not believe you at all and it took the whole dinner to convince them it was true, even with the ring they were still skeptical and you knew Eddie was to blame for crying wolf so many times

Shockingly, your family still loves him

And he lovessss to lie

He will come home, trying to hide his mischievous smirk while he tells you

“Nancy got married?!”

“Dustin got suzie pregnant?!”

“You slept with Steve?!”

“Mike and eleven got eloped?!”

“Hopper and Joyce broke up?!”

“I got fired?!”

“You’re pregnant?!”

And he gets you for about 5 seconds each time before you realize he’s full of shit and you throw whatever soft object is close enough to you

Well that’s all I have for now! Thank you guys sm for the support I’ve gotten on all my pest Eddie posts! You guys really seem to love our little pest 🥹💘

If you have any pest-husband eddie thoughts, I’d absolutely love to hear them!!!

#eddie munson #my post #eddie munson x reader #pest!eddie #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson smut #husband!eddie #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson angst

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hopplessilse · 6 months

Text

Instagram search (date)

Insta!Joel x Fem!reader

Serie Masterlist

Summary: You're on your first date with Joel, things get personal when he asks about your family.

Rating: +18 (mdni)

Words count: 3.5 k

Warnings: age gab (Joel is in his late 40's. Reader is in her early 20's.) bit of touching, deep conversation about divorce (that brings you to tears), overthink 24/7, insecure, lack of confidence

Note: Hello loved ones. It's been a while since the last chapter, my life has had ups and downs lately, I'm better which is what matters, mental health comes first. It was hard for me to finish this chapter, the motivation didn't reach me but it's finally here, I hope to continue to have your support and that you want to know how this story continues. I hope you are patient because my life is turned upside down. Have a nice start to the week.

^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_

As I looked out the car window, I could feel his gaze for a while. We were both quiet, but it was nothing uncomfortable, I was enjoying the trip with the simple fact that he was by my side.

His features were relaxed, I couldn't get over the fact that he was so damn attractive.

As I looked at it, in the distance I could visualize a beautiful farm, with large stables and a beautiful white fence.

"Is that where we'll be?" I said, pointing to the place, amazed at its size.

"Yes honey" he looked at you for a second smiling at you

When he parked the truck and we got out of it, I couldn't help but jump in happiness. The place was beautiful, very green and fresh.

It was everything I imagined it would be as a child

Everything happened quickly, the owner of the place who knew Joel gave us a tour of the place. Joel couldn't stop smiling when he saw me and neither did I, it felt weird to be here with him, finally being able to touch him and listen to him was the best, honestly I never thought I would get to meet him in person. I didn't think he would be interested in getting to know me, especially knowing that I'm too young for him.

I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable because of my age, I know it's totally different to date someone younger than it is to date someone older, I wanted him to see that I'm mature and that I can handle this, I didn't want him to see me as a little girl who doesn't know what she wants in life.

I questioned a lot thinking that he would be different than he seemed, but I was wrong. I had expectations, yes, there is nothing wrong with having them, I could say that he meets them, he has been gentlemanly, he has not made me feel uncomfortable, he asked my permission to hold my hand when I got out and got into the truck, he has not made any comments outside of place, he is very kind,attractive and God his gaze...has me on the floor.

Who would have imagined that I would be here today, with a man 27 years older than me on a date... Who would have thought that what I longed for with an actor, I was living with a man I met on Instagram.

Life does take a turn from one moment to the next.

I just needed someone who saw me, cared, listened to me and wanted to be with me, and to be honest...I think he can give me more than that.

"Have you come before?" you said seeing how he put the seat on the horse and fastened it with the leather straps

"yes"

"Oh" you sounded a little disappointed as you imagined other women coming to the same place along with him.

He paused as he secured the seat and sat up to turn to see you.

"I have come with my daughter, she likes horses very much just like you" he smiled at you as the lord of the stable opened the doors

"Telling me that I share a taste with your daughter sounds like you want me to be friends with her" you said and a little laugh escaped from your lips

"No haha" you looked at him while laughing and noticed the frown lines on the sides of his eyes.

"That would be very rare darling"

You followed his footsteps to one side of him coming out to the side of the corral where there was a horse and another lord. How it was not Joel's first time, he already knew the route to walk the horse through the forest, it was not a long route, it was a bit short in fact, it was more than anything so that the horses could be walked and at the same time they exercised.

"Come I'll help you up," Joel said as he took you by the low waist and pulled you closer to the horse so you could get up.

Mr. Palmer held the horse's leash while Joel was the one who would help you up.

"Rest your foot right here in the stirrup, are you going to hold on to the horn so you can propel yourself, okey sweetheart?" he was explaining as his hand stayed on your lower back and his gaze strolled across your face.

"yes" you nodded

"Okey, let's go"

You did the same as Joel told you, you put your left foot in the stirrup, you stretched your left hand so you could reach the horn and be able to gain momentum. The moment you took momentum, Joel's hands held both sides of your hip helping you up, what made you nervous was the growl that came from his lips when you climbed.

You settled into the seat by backing up and being able to give Joel space in front of you. This one look at you with a frown

"I thought you wanted to learn," he told you as he looked up and rested his hand on your left calf.

"I want to see how you do it, you have more experience" you looked at him smiling "apart they do not let a beginner take the horse" you said whispering so that Mr. Palmer did not listen, but he still did

You both turned to see him and he shook his head stating your comment. Joel just laughed shaking his head and got on the horse effortlessly.

You remained silent as you entered the forest, it was a very beautiful place, quiet and full of vegetation. Joel was telling you that Mr. Palmer's family has kept the place for more than 40 years, since his grandparents and uncles had opened the business.

"When was the first time you came?" you asked him as you rested your right cheek on his back, your hands were on the side of his hip completely surrounding it.

"A few years ago, Sarah was 4 years old when I brought her" he turned his face so he could check you and he look back to the front

"Her mom had just left me and… Sarah was constantly looking for her, so I tried to find a way for her to be happy again" he gave a sigh and you just tightened your grip a little to show compassion, to which he lowered one hand and rested it on yours.

"When I brought her together with Tomy she had the biggest and most beautiful smile, her eyes shone from how happy she was, since that moment I have always brought her, she was even in riding lessons but she leave it for football" he laughed at the end and you felt the vibrations of his laughter through your arms

"Who leaves horse riding for football? Haha" you laughed next to him

"Apparently my daughter does" he turn to you and smile at you.

A little before reaching the halfway point, Joel stops the horse and you lift your face off his back.

"What are you doing?" you said as you took your hands off his waist to give him room and get off the horse.

"You're going to take it," he said with a smile as he beckoned you to move forward.

"You're crazy, they're going to scold us," you said panicking.

"Nothing happens, I promise you, we will change places before arriving"

You looked at him for a few seconds and he just looked at you with his puppy eyes

"Trust me"

You just nodded and stood forward as he climbed in the back. He passed his hands that still held the rope under your arms and gave a light blow to your forearms. You sighed deeply as you felt him so close to your body, to feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arms… his damn big arms around you.

What a damn agony.

You didn't know if he felt uncomfortable being here with you, a place he's only shared with his daughter and brother, a place that has history. A place where people know him, what would they think of him… Will he care what people say?

Nope, I don't think so.

"Tell me," his voice echoed on the back of your neck, making your skin crawl, "do you live alone or with your parents?"

"I live with my mother and my brother" You turned your head a little and stood in profile in front of him

"I think that question had to be the first thing I knew about you," you both laughed a little

Joel cleared his throat and asked.

"And your father? If you don't mind I asked"

"it's fine… He doesn't live with us."

"Since when?" his voice sounded serious

"Mmh it's been a while," you paused and looked down looking at his forearms that were slightly resting on your thighs, "they've been separated since I was 8 years old, and divorced when I was 13."

"I'm sorry to hear that, I guess it wasn't easy for you."

You raised your right hand and directed it to his, caressing the veins that were marked in it

"It wasn't… It was hard for a while, I think… From the beginning I knew that everything would end sooner or later, and in fact I wanted it to end, the 8-year-old girl could not bear to see her parents fight, she knew that every time they started a conversation it would end in a fight"

You sighed heavily as your lips trembled. You felt a warm aura envelop your hands, when you looked you realized that Joel had wrapped his hands with yours, transmitting that warmth you needed to feel safe. Joel rested his chin slightly on your shoulder, while you rested your head on his chest.

"I believe that no child should see their parents fight, they should not be put in that situation, for some it can be traumatic to hear their parents yelling at each other" you sighed as you felt his chest slowly rise and fall "it projects a bad image of the love and respect they have for each other, it makes them reflect in some way, it makes them feel powerless of not being able to do anything"

"That's right" the lump you felt in your throat was going to explode at any moment, you couldn't speak remembering everything.

Joel noticed

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about this, I know it's hard" He raised one of his hands and stroked your hair "When you're ready I'll listen to you, I'll be here for you"

"It's just that.." You took a breath and lightly squeezed his left hand that was still holding you "My inner child has a hard time talking about it, her childhood was summed up by her parents' divorce"

You were silent for a few seconds, you knew Joel would listen to you, it didn't matter if you cried, you really wanted him to know you, to know your past. It was painful for the girl who lives in you, but that girl learned at a young age that divorces were normal, that couples fight all the time, that love ends sooner for some people. Forever is nothing more than a simple word that can be broken, as delicate as a tightrope that depends on two people.

"Sometimes I feel that the climax of my life was that, I'm grateful that it happened, I think it was still a lesson in some way, it helped me to form my person and see things in a different way, I always tell myself that it was the best"

You felt a little tense and couldn't help but ask

"Do you think it's depressing for me to think like that?" You turned your face to look at him out of the corner of your eye, being too close to his face. He turned to look at you and moved away a bit because of the little space between you

"I don't think it's depressing, it's an event that left you with a before and after in your life, and it's good that you have taken it and reflected on it for good" He look into your eyes "that speaks to how mature you are" You both looked at each other and you smiled at him looking away because of how tense you felt.

"Well, I want this experience to be unique and special, what do you think if we enjoy the sound of nature"

"I think it's a good idea, let's put depression aside"

Both of you followed the path in silence, but it was a silence full of harmony and peace, from time to time Joel would put his shank on your shoulder and caress him with it, you couldn't help but smile, you couldn't help but touch his hands and caress them. He liked it because he caressed your hands, and even brushed his hands on your thighs, but always respecting you.

...............

The day had gone from sunny to cloudy from one moment to the next, it was raining hard when you arrived at your house, you told Joel to park 3 houses before yours. Inside the car you could only hear the rain hitting the hood of the truck and above you, you could hear the breeze that was outside.

The trees and plants swaying from side to side through the air, the windows fogged up from the cold that ran through the streets, the water running down the concrete of the street, the lights of some houses kept off while others were on, in the distance you could see the window of your room. You thought that if you lived alone you would have already put him through, you wouldn't let him leave and even less so with this rain, you would snuggle with him on the couch while they watched Game of Thrones.

You turned to look at him and he was already looking at you, you caught his gaze running over your bare legs, his gaze went up until he reached your face, he half smiled at you as he turned his gaze forward and his hands massaged the steering wheel with his palms.

“I didn't expect it to rain” his voice echoed in your ears.

You watched his hands move along the steering wheel, wishing that you were the one his hands were touching.

"It rained suddenly" you said almost in a whisper but he could hear

You took off your seat belt while you settled into your seat, you settled so that your body was in his direction. He looked at you and imitated your action, taking off his seat belt and turning to look at you.

"I liked going out with you" you smile at him

"I'm glad you liked it" he gave you a sweet look "I think… we should try again another time"

"Yes, we should," you smiled as you lowered your gaze to the hand resting on his thigh.

"Do you like it? the date" you turned your gaze to his face

"I loved it, I liked to have known you a little more" he put his hand to your nests and caressed them "I hope I have not disappointed you"

"No," you said frowning, "why do you think that?"

"Well… I'm too old, I'm not extroverted and i don't do crazy things," he said, laughing a little at the end and looking at you, "plus maybe you think I'm a degenerate for dating you."

"No no haha, I don't think anything like that" you stroked his hand you this time "you're older yes but you're very attractive, and it doesn't matter that you're not outgoing I'm not either and, I like you to be different from anyone I've ever met… and I definitely don't think you're a degenerate"

He just nodded smiling this time

Heck, he did have a cute smile.

They fell silent causing the sound to return to your ears. You went through his features for the thousandth time all day, he was so beautiful, all of him was just beautiful, you couldn't think how come he was alone and single.

You wanted to know what it tasted like, you wanted to feel his lips against yours, if they fit yours.

You stopped thinking for once in your life and decided to do something good for the first time, without regrets this time, without doubting that it will be the best thing you could do today.

Everything happened so fast.

You approached and could only see when he turned to see you, your lips were shaped with his in a slow kiss, his lips were cold to contact, they felt good next to yours, it felt like a synchronized dance. His mustache was itchy, it was a new sensation that you never thought you would enjoy as you were doing, your hands went to his face above his jaw, you rested your fingers on his beard a little gray and trimmed.

You wanted him to touch you, you needed to feel his hands on you once again. You grabbed the hand that was caressing your arm and directed it to your thigh, he had contact with your thigh and caressed your skin with his fingers, your skin bristled at the contact which made him smile in the middle of the kiss.

As the kiss deepened you felt his hand go up your thigh more and more, running through it with small and slow caresses. Your tongue found its way into his mouth caressing his, while small moans came out of your throat and he responded by intensifying the kiss and his grip on your thigh and his hand that remained below your jaw.

Everything was going well, you felt good about yourself in that moment, you were wrapped in the moment that when you felt his hand on the edge of your dress, you jumped up tensing a little under his contact, you didn't say anything to him you just continued kissing him.

He settled closer to you and you felt his hand right on your hip inside the dress, you were so deep into the kiss that you didn't care, but you only felt his hand near the edge of your panties and his fingers on one side of your lower thigh, you settled in your place and that was enough for him to remove his hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath.

"It's… yes, I'm fine" your voice came out between cut by the grief you felt

You kissed him again so he wouldn't realize you were nervous, you didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to last longer. Your nerves invade you again when you feel his hand on your thigh again, you like the contact of his hand against your skin, how big it is around your thigh, but not enough to grab all the flesh around it, but you have a hard time staying focused on your desire when nervousness and anxiety surround you.

When he raised his hand again, not hearing your reprisals, you lowered the hand you had on his face and placed it on top of his sliding it gently down your leg so that it was on your knee.

You broke the kiss again

"I'm sorry," you said sadly, lowering your gaze and covering your face with your hands as you tried to control your breathing.

As you hid your face in your hands, Joel still didn't move away from you, you could feel his hand stroking your knee sweetly and delicately.

"You don't have to say sorry honey," he said as he placed one of his hands on your head caressing your hair.

You were silent for a moment, while he thought that he had come far, possibly he had made you feel uncomfortable and you didn't want to say it, he felt guilty for seeing you like this and that you asked him for forgiveness.

You, on the other hand, did not feel better, you felt ashamed of what you had just done, you felt stupid for having had that daring behavior and then burst into tears.

"How childish I am sorry" you said between sobs

"Hey Shh you are not childish" his right hand touched one of your hands that still hid your face

"I am, I don't expect you to bear me" This time you took your hands off your face and looked at him, his eyes open as they saw every part of your face, his lips slightly open, and with the same distance as before.

"Breathe okey, it's all right honey" he moved away a little so he could press the button on the windows next to him. As he pressed the one on your side, the window lowered a little letting in the fresh night air.

"Are you okay?" he ask this time taking distance

"s.. yes, I'm seriously sorry, I know you expected something more from me," you said with your eyes down.

"What do you mean? Not of course not, why do you think that?" he wrinkled his eyebrows

"Because I've been very different when we talked, the photos…." You were going to continue listing the many things you did, that you said and he interrupted you.

"Honey I want you to know that I don't expect anything from you, Okey? I want to know you, the person you are, the rest doesn't matter." You took a deep breath to look up

"I wanted to make a good impression on you," you said, looking into his eyes.

"You did it, you are more than I expected"

Joel looked at you silently as you ran your forearm over your nose and wiped your eyes.

"Listen… I don't expect anything in return, I want you to feel comfortable being with me, I want you to be the one to allow me to get closer" he sigh heavily before speaking "The last thing I want is for you to feel pressured, forget about the photos, okay? I want you to trust me."

"I'm a bit dramatic sometimes" you said wanting to laugh but failed in the attempt

"You're not," he said in a whisper causing his voice to sound hoarse

"Your feelings are strong, you can't hide them and that's okay."

You looked at him and he gave you a smile, his eyes were still looking at you with adoration, he had the same look as when you entered his truck. You assumed that everything would be fine, he would not walk away.

He wouldn't judge you for your feelings. He would worship you for who you really are, He would be there for you when no one else is. You've become his new favorite person, he can't fight the feeling that you're something else… You're more than he thought you would be.

He's fucked up just like you, and that's okay.

............................

Tag list:

@paanchusblog @peachmy

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #smut #x reader #fanfic #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #insta!joel #pedro pascal fanfiction

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cynfulworld · 26 days

Note

what music genre/song was touching your soul tonight?

Ummm…. This is long and probably over sharing….. scroll to the end for the song if you don’t want to read.

When I was going through divorce from my first marriage I came across this particular song. I married too quickly, too young, while running away from a life I was trying to get out of. It became clear pretty quickly that I had made a mistake, he was not a kind person, and I asked for a separation. My then husband opted to leave the state, returning to where he grew up. Fine with me but we had a child, a 1 year old boy, and he just cut out on him. We never heard from him unless he was calling to ask me to send him money. Can you imagine? Lol. He always had a reason but the truth was he was partying and eventually he disappeared completely. Anyway…. At this time in my life I was heartbroken, lost and terrified. I was a new mom on top of becoming a single mom, on state assistance, praying for childcare grants so I could work or go to school, terrified I was fucking up my kid, ended up working days, going to school nights. I questioned every decision I was making, held in my emotions because I felt like it was weak to have them at all. That I didn’t deserve to. I just took one day at a time, and I heard this song that just totally spoke to me. Encouraging me. It was like a conversation between me and God (or whatever you choose to call a higher power). Expression of fears and an answer in the chorus. A guiding hand.

“And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears.

And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.

Get over your hill and see what you find there,

With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair”

That song was a promise. A promise that there would be better days….And there have been. We (my son and I) made it through the muck and the struggle. He never doubted that he was loved. I grew in motherhood, completed schooling, focused on being the best I could be as a mom and in my career field to give us a future. One day at a time, we moved forward, with joy and love together. Those are some of the best days of my life, even in the struggle. It was hard but also, we thrived. About 4 years later I met my now husband. He taught me what a loving relationship truly is, took my son as his own and eventually we were (surprisingly) blessed with another child. As with any family and relationship there are challenges, we aren’t perfect, but we are for each other and for us. Everyone has their life challenges, that was one of mine :)

“And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears.

And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.

Get over your hill and see what you find there,

With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair”

That promise came true for me. I’m a blessed and lucky girl. I got over that hill and found happiness. Love no longer breaks my heart, but it dismissed my fears and opened a whole new world to me.

I love that chapter of my life. The song is called “After the Storm” it’s by Mumford and Sons. Everytime I hear it, it takes me back to standing in front of the bathroom mirror, getting ready for another day, hanging on to those lyrics, to that promise. I look back at that girl and love her.

#probably more than you wanted to know 😂#always grateful: even for the struggles #please don’t reblog this one #mine #ask

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padfootagain · 11 months

Text

Something Good (VIII)

Chapter 8: Denial

Hi everyone! Here is a new chapter for my Ben Barnes series! I hope you all like it, tell me what you think about it!

Things are about to get serious ehehehehhehehe!!! (Also, it features the biggest lie ever written in a fanfiction, let me tell you, the title of this chapter is very appropriate…)

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none! Slow burn, professor AU.

Summary: Coming out of a divorce and trying to get used to being a single mom, while teaching your classes at University, you thought your life could not get more complicated than it already is. But when you are asked to take care of the theatre club with the colleague that you really can’t get along with, you realize that everything can still get ten times more complicated in your life. And when you start actually liking Professor Barnes, the troubles only grow exponentially…

Word Count: 2993

Masterlist for the series - Ben Barnes's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Maybe, just maybe… this idea of yours with musicals was a little bit more complicated than you thought it would be.

As you stared at the long list of questions you and the students had written on the blackboard, you kind of wondered how you could manage all this.

By your side, Ben was getting a little nervous as well, although he remained calmer than you were. Maybe it was because he wasn’t the one who had had this idea of musicals in the first place, and so he didn’t feel as responsible as you did. Or maybe he was used to asking himself all these questions after working on the club for several years.

No matter why, Ben was staring at the blackboard, rolling a pencil between his fingers, thinking hard.

“I think the most important issue we need to tackle is the music, though,” David said, sipping on a coffee.

“I reckon there’s a choir and a band in the school, right?” you asked, thinking hard. “Perhaps they could help?”

Ben nodded.

“We can ask them. If any of you have friends who would like to join, that could be great…”

“But this… all of this would work for the performance, and some repetitions along the year, but I can’t imagine that we could gather everyone on a weekly basis. And anyway… there are weeks during which we’ll have to work on the staging, on the acting… we can’t ask people to come for two full hours if we only need their help for ten minutes,” you argued. “We need musicians with us, part of the group.”

“Does any of you play an instrument?” Giselle asked the group.

Nathaniel raised his hand.

“I play the guitar.”

“And I play the clarinet,” added Betty, one of the new students.

A couple others played the guitar.

“What about you, Y/N?” David asked, but you shook your head.

“I don’t play any instrument. I can sing, that’s pretty much it. Ben?”

Your colleague looked up at you again, as he had seemed lost in thought for a couple of minutes.

“I play the drums and the piano, some guitar too. I can play during our repetitions.”

You grinned at him.

“Awesome!”

“We should try singing, and decide which roles we want to play,” Giselle proposed.

“Before that, shouldn’t we choose the songs?” David asked.

“Well, I reckon we should keep most of the songs of the musical, but… the whole project was based on the idea to use popular songs and to integrate them in a story. We could add our own, for sure,” Ben proposed, and all were enthusiastic.

“We must keep El Tango de Roxanne though,” you argued. “I am using my authority to save this one.”

“And what an authority, huh?” Ben teased you, making everyone laugh.

“Clearly, you’ve never seen me ask my daughter to clean her room,” you fought back.

“I bet she doesn’t do it.”

“She doesn’t, you’re right.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh, while your colleague let out an earnest laugh.

It was nice. The whole session with the club was nice, and… you hated to admit it but… spending this time with Ben was nice too. Very nice, indeed…

“Let’s make a list,” Ben said, grabbing his notebook and pushing his glasses a little higher on his nose.

He did every time he started writing something, you had noticed that… you found it… endearing, for some reason…

You hurried to push the thought away, and cleared your throat instead.

“Elephant Love Medley stays,” decided Ben. “I’m using my authority on this one. El Tango de Roxanne too…”

“Come What May,” added John, one of your new recruits, who seemed very shy, his voice barely audible at all.

Ben added a few songs to the list, but there was some room for new ones. You spent some time thinking about it.

“Hey, didn’t you want to play The Sound of Music?” Nathaniel said, pointing at you. “I remember there are references and stuff in the movie, but we haven’t kept the song. Maybe we could add a song from that.”

“Which one?” asked Ben.

But Nathaniel shrugged.

You took a look at the list. You didn’t have many highly-romantic songs. You had only kept Come What May and Elephant Love Medley… but you reckoned that another romantic scene could work…

“Something romantic?” you asked.

“Why not?”

“Or maybe that one where she likes stuff!” Roberta proposed, struggling to remember the title of the song.

“Favourite Things?” Ben offered, and the girl squealed in approval.

“Yes! That’s it! That’s a fun song!”

You shrugged, a few people nodded.

“You were thinking about something romantic?” Ben asked, turning to you. “We could add a romantic scene. Some of the most intimate scenes will be difficult to stage, we don’t have the same set or anything of the kind, we’re much more limited on stage compared to cinema. We could replace some of these scenes with one of our own, around a new song. What did you have in mind?”

He was staring at you, gaze intense and unwavering. You liked that about him, the fact that whenever he listened to someone, it was with his full attention. You felt like your opinion mattered. You couldn’t help but draw a comparison with your ex-husband. It was a nice change…

You thought about it for a second, before answering, crossing your arms before your chest and leaning against the table behind you.

“We could do a romantic scene… quite similar to Something Good. They could dance, get closer, and kind of confess this way. That’s romantic.”

“This scene is so cute…” Roberta nodded, a dreamy smile on her face.

Ben couldn’t refrain a chuckle at her reaction, and he pondered the question for a moment. But he ended up nodding, writing the title down.

“That’s a good idea, it could work.”

The alarm on your phone rang. It had been two hours already, it was time to call it a day.

“Alright,” Ben said, closing his notebook and offering the group a smile. “We’ll appoint the roles next time. We’ll try some singing, we should all prepare for the same one, let’s say… El Tango de Roxanne, as it’s apparently Y/N’s favourite…”

“Yes!” you cheered, making everyone chuckle.

“And remember that we’ll only see each other in November now! Because next week, no repetition.”

“Really? Why?” Giselle asked, disappointed.

“Y/N and I do have a job outside of this club, you know?” Ben answered, amused. “We’ll be off to London to work on our research. But then again, this classroom is still booked for us, you can gather here and work on the play if you want. As long as you don’t break anything…”

He turned his gaze to Nathaniel, who raised his hands as if innocent, the glimmering black polish on his nails catching the neon light.

“It happened once… and it wasn’t even really my fault.”

“Oh… I’m really curious to hear about this one!” you chimed.

“Let’s say that Nathaniel is not allowed to go anywhere near stage lights anymore…”

“Woops?” the boy said, making everyone laugh.

“Alright, all of you need to go to class,” you admonished, standing straighter again. “And we have to go back to our regular jobs, so, off you go!”

The students left, chatting excitedly and already making plans to gather the coming week even if their teachers would be away. You erased the blackboard while Ben was waiting for you to walk back to your offices. He seemed hesitant and you weren’t sure why. He was blushing, even. It was kind of… endearing…

You really had to stop your brain from making this kind of thoughts…

“Have you eaten before coming here?” Ben asked as you turned back towards him.

“No, I had classes this morning. I’m starving to be honest. I’ll eat something before our meeting, okay?”

“I haven’t eaten either. Would you like to join me?”

You were quite surprised by the offer, but you realised that it wasn’t an unwelcomed one.

“Okay, sure. I’ve brought something to eat.”

“I did too. Cafeteria?”

“Sure.”

You walked out of the classroom together, shy smiles on your lips, and both of you a little confused, a little hesitant. Still, when Ben looked at you, you seemed content, and it made him happy, for some reason…

Jasmine and Miles could barely believe their eyes.

You and Ben were sitting together, at a table, in the cafeteria, and… you seemed to be actually eating lunch together.

You were clearly chatting, and instead of shouting at each other or anything of the kind you just… laughed.

They exchanged a wide-eyed look.

“Since when do these two get along?” Miles asked, confusion painted all over his features. “I’m leaving for a couple of weeks, and all of a sudden everything changes around here?”

“Don’t look at me, I have no idea! Y/N hasn’t told me anything.”

“And Ben hasn’t told me anything either…”

“What happened to them?”

“It is a good thing though, if these two can finally get along.”

“Should we… leave them be, then?”

Miles pondered the question, still hiding with Jasmine in the corridor, right before the cafeteria. He peered inside once more.

“We should… but I’m too curious.”

“Me too… I bet your husband is going to be asking for details, anyway.”

“Oh, yes, George will love this!”

Miles walked inside the room with an excited grin, Jasmine on his heels.

Ben welcomed his colleagues with a bright smile, happy to see Miles again.

“So… what do we have here?” Jasmine teased, sitting down next to you and stealing some of your bread.

“One researcher who’s supposed to be working, and a retired man who’s supposed to be enjoying his husband?” you proposed, making Ben chuckle.

Miles looked at his younger friend with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow.

“Many things have changed since the last time I came,” he said, ignoring your sarcasm.

“What do you mean?” Ben asked, although he was perfectly aware of what Miles meant.

“None of you is frowning, looking desperate, or shouting… You almost look civilized!” Jasmine answered, and this time you swatted her hand away when she tried to get more of your food.

“We are civilized.”

“Together?”

You and Ben both rolled your eyes, but you didn’t fail to notice the way Ben was blushing. Colour spreading across his nose, his cheeks, and all the way up to the tips of his ears. You found it adorable…

“We had a bad start,” Ben conceded. “But we’re… okay now, right?”

You nodded, taking a bite of your salad.

“Real colleagues. Professional.”

“Good! That’s a lot of progress already for the two of you.”

You kept on chatting together for a while, until both your and Ben’s plates were empty. You were to have a meeting to prepare your stay in London, but you both agreed to take a twenty-minutes break before that. You would meet up in Ben’s office to go back to work.

Miles didn’t lose a second, as soon as he was alone with his younger friend in his office, he sat down and bombarded him with questions.

“Ben, I want to know everything that has happened between you and Y/N in the past few weeks! Every detail! Fire away!”

Ben laughed at his friend’s antics, taking a seat as well.

“Nothing interesting happened, I can assure you,” answered Ben. “We simply… spent more time together, and… buried the hatchet. That’s all.”

“You couldn’t stand each other at the beginning of the year, and now you’re having lunch together! And nothing happened?”

��No! I mean… I don’t know. We didn’t get along at the beginning, it was a bit hard but then we had to work together and… we’ve found that we…”

“That you?” Miles encouraged him eagerly.

“That we… are not so dissimilar after all.”

Ben let his gaze get lost over Miles shoulder, staring at nothing while his thoughts drifted back towards your shared moments through the last few weeks.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, she is… insufferable, sometimes. She is… disorganised most of the time, and always making silly jokes, and she is clumsy as hell, although… that’s kind of… adorable, to be honest…”

A dreamy smile appeared on his features, before he would shake himself, and look at his friend again.

“But nothing has happened, really. We’ve simply become professional around one another.”

But Miles was staring at his young friend with a wicked grin.

“What?” Ben frowned. “Do I have some food on my face?”

“You like her.”

Ben rolled his eyes.

“She’s competent. More than I thought she would be. And she’s great with the kids at the club, which is all that truly matters.”

“No, Ben. You like her.”

“What?!”

“You like her!”

Ben scoffed, crossing his arms before his chest, suddenly defensive and looking at his former colleague as if he had gone mad.

“Absolutely not! Are you crazy?”

“You do seem… infatuated.”

“Infatuated? Me? With Y/N? Retirement really doesn’t suit you. Are you alright?”

“Ben… you’ve literally zoned out as you were talking about her with the most idiotic smile on your lips – no offence. And you’ve just said that she was -and I quote- ‘adorable’.”

“I did not… that was not what I meant…”

“So you don’t think that she’s adorable?”

“Well… no! I mean… she’s very clumsy and that’s… quite… cute…”

Ben heaved a frustrated sigh.

“You were blushing at lunch,” Miles went on.

“I did not!”

“You did.”

“Only because I felt embarrassed. Because of you. Not her. I do not blush because of Y/N.”

“Don’t you think she’s an attractive woman?”

Ben rolled his eyes.

“I am not blind, Miles. Even you can’t deny that she’s quite… pretty. Beautiful, even…”

He cleared his throat.

“Anyone with two functioning eyes would notice that, it doesn’t mean I’m attracted to her.”

“You’re not?”

“Don’t you think she’s a beautiful woman?”

“I do believe she is beautiful. Because as you said, I have two functioning eyes. But as a gay man, and a happily married one, I do not feel the need to stare at her and to blush every time she looks my way.”

“I do not do that!”

“Yes, you do. You did throughout the entire lunch.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“So you think she’s adorable, you think she’s cute, you think she’s beautiful…”

“Miles…” Ben glared at him.

“But you’re not interested?”

“No, I’m not.”

Miles nodded, clearly unconvinced.

“You know what professionals call that?”

“What kind of professionals? Matchmakers?”

“Denial,” Miles answered his own question, ignoring Ben’s sarcasm. “That’s pure denial we have here, Ben.”

“Absolutely not. I am happy on my own. I don’t want to have a relationship. I don’t want to be infatuated with anyone. I don’t want to think about Y/N this way. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear.”

“Good.”

But Miles shook his head, heaving a sigh.

This boy, really…

“Jasmine!”

You were sitting in her office, staring at her with wide eyes and a shock painted all over your features that almost looked like outrage.

“Of course, I don’t fancy him!”

“Why not? He’s super hot…”

“He…”

You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm down. Because this couldn’t be happening.

A few weeks before you were tempted by actually cutting Ben’s throat, how could Jasmine think for a mere second that now you fancied him!?

Outrageous. Absolutely ridiculous.

“I do not fancy Ben Barnes.”

“You do, though.”

“I do not! I barely know him at all! I’ve just started actually getting along with him… what… three weeks ago? Maybe even less!”

“Do you not find him attractive?”

You let out a frustrated grunt.

“Of course, I find him attractive, have you looked at the guy?! He is gorgeous. Yes, I do find him attractive. Doesn’t mean that I am actually attracted to him! And you’re forgetting how annoying he is! Like he is always so… organised, and he plans everything out, and he… always pushes his glasses up before writing something down and that’s… okay that one is kind of cute, actually, but… he blushes all the time. And that’s quite adorable. But he’s also very… He was very mean to me at the beginning! He isn’t anymore, that’s true. And he’s great with the kids at the club. He’s actually a lot of fun… But no! No! He is insufferable with his idiotic humour and his bright laughter and… argh!”

You threw your hands in the air, Jasmine still staring at you, sipping on her coffee.

“Wow… you’re so far gone,” Jasmine commented.

“I. Do. Not. Fancy. Ben. Barnes.”

“You’re infatuated.”

“Absolutely not! Besides… my life is a mess. And I have a daughter, and an ex-husband who drives me crazy and… no, no, no! I don’t want a relationship, or a fling, or anything. I am very happy and content being single. No, thank you!”

“You’re in denial. I’m surprised you’ve managed to convince yourself for so long…”

“Jas!”

“Alright, alright… as you wish.”

You checked your watch, and stood up.

“I have to go my meeting with Ben now.”

“Try not to snog him too hard.”

“One more word…”

“Alright! Alright!”

You strode outside the room, passing before Miles as he was heading towards Jasmine’s office.

When he entered, he had a raised eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with this one?” he asked, pointing at the corridor where you had just disappeared, a murderous look on your face.

“She’s in denial. Want to know what I’ve just learnt?” Jasmine asked the retired man, overexcited.

“Oh, you will never believe what I’ve just learnt!” said Miles, sitting down in the chair you had occupied a moment before.

They spilled the tea at the same time, excited grins on their faces.

“He likes her!”

“She likes him!”

Their shouts and laughter could be heard all the way down the corridor.

**********************************

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @idek-what-to-put

#ben barnes #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes series #ben barnes fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #series

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bellamyroselia · 5 months

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I've recently been thinking of how some of the missing Olympian gods could be adapted for future Kid Icarus games and in Poseidon's case he could be expanded upon, so I decided to dump some of my abridged thoughts about them here. Turned out I still had lot of things to say, but in general these thoughts are about what I think these gods could do and why it's possible, along with what kind of relationships they could have with the already existing KI-cast. Considering the subject matter, expect to see mythology-typical mind-fuckery and the words "motive failure" a lot - not only are these people extremely unhinged, in many myths the gods take the "fuck around and find out" approach way too literally.

To see this on its entirety, go here.

Starting with Hestia, she has a bad case of motive failure. Like what are you supposed to do with her? You can count her major mythological appearances on one hand, and even in those she doesn’t do much. It does also make imagining what kind of relationships she could have with the existing cast hard; none of Hestia's relationships are all that developed to begin with, but the ones she has with her siblings are those that get most focus… So that only really leaves Hades, Poseidon and maybe Viridi? Not much to work with, and I can’t really imagine those relationships being anything else but positive. Sure, they may disagree of some things, but overall they get along with each other. The most interesting thing about Hestia’s possible relationships is that I could actually see Dark Pit liking her due to her nice and unproblematic nature. It does leave plot potential pretty minimal though, but I could see writers using some legends about Vestal virgins as bases for plotlines where Hestia shows up as a supporting side character. The problem with those is that they tend to be pretty specific, so who knows how well they might actually work. “Arx tarpeia Capitoli proxima” makes a good moral but not much of a plotline if you divorce it from... Well, Tarpeia herself. Another possibility is that Pit’s sent to defend a place that had its sacred flame extinguished and he has to defeat the culprit behind that.

Artemis also suffers from motive failure. She may be a bringer of sudden death and disease along with being a serious contender for the title of the most wrathful Olympian, but… She’s so petty with it? Much of it is very small-scaled all things considered. Most things she does don’t have long-term consequences, and the few that do are quickly hijacked by other deities whose actions have bigger impacts to the myths in question. Like yeah, Artemis may have told Agamemnon to kill his daughter if he wants to set sails to Troy, but who cares when Apollo is inflicting the Greeks with a plague and Athena is ignoring the pleads of Trojan women. This being said, I could see her being used as an unfought antagonist for a chapter or two depending on what she does (something akin to her sending the Calydonian boar to terrorize Calydon could work), though that story ends the moment the threat is dealt with. I however wouldn’t cross out the possibility of her appearing as an ally out, though I’m not sure what she could offer to Pit and co. if that was the case as she’s not really a god of anything that could help Pit on his journey. And I honestly don’t see her having particularly positive relationships with anyone in the already existing cast - she may not dislike any of them, but she doesn’t really like them either. She’s a true neutral in that sense, which could possibly earn her Dark Pit’s respect. How long that’s going to last is a completely different matter though, it may be small-scaled put she’s still very wrath-happy person.

Have some more motive failure with Hermes, though this time it has everything to do with him being a rather hard character to utilize in a world without Zeus - because of the rating he’s not allowed to be horndog making more of himself and since Zeus isn’t there asking him to do things, it leaves him with next to nothing to do. He’s extremely loyal to Zeus and this loyalty is exclusive to him; while Hermes clearly loves the rest of his family, he wouldn’t do half of the things he does for his father for them… And boy, has he done lot of things for his father. He’s a big daddy’s boy and daddy simply can't be replaced because Hermes just doesn’t love many people in the same unconditional way he loves his father - this means he’d have to be an independent figure, since the only person he’d be a lackey for is out of the picture. Now Hermes does have some interesting figures connected to him, like his son Autolycus (shapeshifting thief and the maternal grandfather of both Jason and Odysseus, whose name literally means “the wolf itself”) and the goddess of persuasion Peitho who’s described as his wife on occasion, but I’m not sure how any of that could be utilized. Autolycus possibly could've had some potential as a recurring character if he wasn’t dead by old age, but who knows, maybe he did get deified and therefore became an immortal in the world of Kid Icarus. I mean, Medusa is just a sea daemon and a dead one of that in the myths so why not let Autolycus to become a god. But back to Hermes, what I think of his possible relationships with already existing characters? They’re likely positive overall and I can see him appreciating both Pits for their spunk, but I think that the most potential comes from different minor antagonists, like Thanatos, Phosphora and Pandora. In case of the last one, Hermes was the one who gave Pandora her personality so there's that. Into the two former ones, Hermes is a psychopomp which means that he guided spirits to afterlife and he was everyone’s preferred psychopomp. Only person who wasn’t happy to see him in this duty was Sisyphus (Ares freed Thanatos after he had been captured by Sisyphus and brought them both back to Underworld → Sisyphus sweet talks Persephone into letting him go for a short period of time → Sisyphus refuses to return and Thanatos refuses to try bringing him back, so Hermes drags him to Underworld), so one could argue that Hermes is better at doing Thanatos’ job than he is - the fact that the Sisyphus-myth is one of Thanatos’ only major mythological appearances doesn’t exactly help him in this situation. One could get some funny dialogue out of that. With Phosphora, her Japanese name is derived from Electra, who’s the younger sister of Hermes’ mother Maia. For some additional hilarity, Maia and Electra are both elder sisters of Merope, Sisyphus’ wife. Everything about the possibility of having Hermes, Phosphora and Thanatos interact smells like a comedy goldmine to me. But let’s be real, isn’t it weird that Hermes has never been a merchant in any KI-game? It’s so goddamn absurd considering how he’s the god of commerce! You’d think he would’ve been the first choice for that, but apparently not! That’s a one big missed opportunity!

Hera too has a case of motive failure, but the reasons behind it are pretty simple. First is the same as with Hermes, which is that Hera doesn’t get to do much in a world without Zeus; can't be angry about your husband being unfaithful to you when your husband isn’t around. The second reason is equally simple, it being that Hera likes Athena. In fact she probably loves Athena more than she loves Ares, Hephaestus and Eileithyia (aka Lucina) combined (her love for Athena and Hebe is probably around the equal level and if it’s in someone’s favor, it’s Hebe’s), so toss away all the possibilities of her being a villainous force. It wouldn’t really make sense considering how Palutena is mostly Athena-inspired character. The two goddesses are pretty much partners in crime and by crime I literally mean “Let’s try to overthrow Zeus with Poseidon and Apollo” and “Let’s be the only deities to celebrate Troy’s destruction” levels of things, having each others backs whenever something happens so I think it would be better to just let Palutena have a good relationship with her. With Pit things probably would get a tad more confusing depending on some other factors, but on a vacuum it’s hard to say anything about them. Regardless of those I think she and Dark Pit would have a pretty rocky relationship, as Hera along with her favorite stepdaughter and Aphrodite were some of the biggest menaces to society when Zeus was still in the picture… All roads may not lead to Rome, but many do lead to a scorned goddess, a nosey goddess or to an easily angered goddess.

#kid icarus #kid icarus uprising #ki #kiu #personal thoughts #dumping all of these here so they could stop haunting me in my head #“fuck around & find out” taken way too literally means that they wait for demigods to do something #demigods truly are the ones who drive the plot around in these tales #feel free to share your thoughts with me! i'm interested to hear what you think #thought dumping ground

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sugarpopss · 6 months

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Lee Bodecker Blurb

So......I've been talking about Lee a lot with @bucknastysbabe which of course means I pooped out something kind of horny. Imagine he and Florence get a nasty divorce at some, feel how plausible that is, then come back to this. Also kind of some kink discovery but Lee is such a good vessel for feedism yknow

Lee had a routine. He got off patrol, drove forty minutes out to the cabin on the far side of the county, and ate a somewhat miserable dinner while ‘I’ve Got a Secret’ or ‘The Price is Right’ droned on in front of him, driving the stale silence into the corners for a little bit.

Sometimes he stopped at the diner in Meade for food that was more salt and bacon grease than real ingredients, ordered in a quantity that made the teenage girl working the register raise her eyebrows; sometimes he exercised the full extent of his cooking skills and put a TV dinner in the oven. Either way, he parked his ass on the sofa, let the sound of the television fill his head and ate his dinner in a scene that would not be out of place in the 1963 edition of ‘Pathetic Divorcees 12 Month Calendar’.

Most nights, in an astounding display of disregard for personal dignity, Lee jerked off after eating. Sometimes he focused on the television and let Betsy Palmer float into his imagination, leaving the panel behind to show Lee what was under her tight little skirt. Other times he thought of his ex-wife, saw her chocolate dark hair and recalled the feeling of her breasts in his hands, how she’d tip her head back with pitchy moans when their sex was good. The only downside was that that usually led him into thinking about how nights like that had dwindled as he spent more time working-because to Lee, being on patrol or filing paperwork or meeting with Leroy all fell under the umbrella of ‘work’, at least for his purposes-how, coming up on the day Florence had served him the divorce papers, even their coupling became cold and distant and quiet, usually ending in yelling or tears if not both.

Thinking about that made Lee feel like shit.

The masturbation fodder Lee liked the best, though-or maybe just what he felt the least amount of guilt over-was the feeling of his own gut, packed with fatty diner food or ice cream and Nabisco cookies, skin warm from the stretch and stomach slightly aching as it tried churn through everything inside. He preferred not to dwell on why that feeling got him so absurdly hard-why palming his swollen belly made his cock leak like an old faucet.

In any case, masturbation was the third part of Lee’s routine. The fourth part was really playing the washed up cop and passing out under the fog of a full stomach and an orgasm. At a different time he would’ve polished off the image with a couple of beers, something to add to both the haze in his mind and the bloat in his stomach, but. Well. He was trying, as pathetic as it sounded.

As pathetic as ‘trying’ seemed to be, seeing as he still ended up conked out on the sofa, television illuminating how his undershirt was slowly creeping up over the curve of his gut like some slovenly sitcom husband. Except, that is, for the nights when Lee had the post-nut wherewithal and motivation to actually get into bed. It was actually a little bit sad how quickly he’d adjusted to sleeping alone. There was something almost reassuring about getting into a cold bed, as opposed to one warmed by a body that he knew has been waiting for hours; there was no one to disappoint or fight with or lie to in a cold bed, although Lee had done all three quite liberally throughout his marriage and didn’t feel so much guilt that he’d take them back, given the opportunity. He certainly wouldn’t give up what they’d gotten him…but it still felt safer to be alone.

Besides, the warmth and weight of his packed gut was a close enough substitute for the comfort of a woman, the grip of his own callused fist a workable approximation of the tight, wet heat of a cunt. Shocking as it may be, there wasn’t a line of women out the front door of the creaky old cabin with one working sink and raccoons in the attic-but even those traits were probably a better draw than Lee himself.

It didn’t matter. He was just alright by himself-it seemed like exactly the way he was meant to be.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker fanfiction #the devil all the time #the devil all the time fanfic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #a touch of feedism in there #re-elect sheriff bodecker #my writing #chubby Lee bodecker

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

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What a Man - A Manny/Reader One Shot Story.

You meet Manny in a bar... and promptly take him home for some filthy fun! Focuses on the dynamic of a younger man/older woman age gap, as there are so many younger woman/older man fics out there, I thought I would mix it up a little. Can be enjoyed by whatever age, though (18+ of course!) because it’s smut, and we all love that, but yeah, I wanted any 40+ readers to feel specifically catered to, for once!

Words - 4,571

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“Triple Jack, no ice.”

Christ. It sounds like the guy who just took a seat beside you at the bar has had a similarly bad day to you.

You see his ring adorned hand from the corner of your eye, long, tapered fingers clutching the glass, sinking it back. “Another.”

The bartender dutifully fulfils the request. “Another.”

“Might as well put a straw in the damned bottle,” you mutter, but not quite under your breath as much as you might’ve hoped.

“I would, but Logan here frowns upon that.” Turning your head to the side, you do a rapid double take. Good grief. That is one hell of a tall drink of water. “Evening, mamacita.” His eyes give you a quick up and down, smiling widely, turning back to his drink. He then looks at you again, his face a picture of curiosity. “What the fuck is a fine assed lady like you doing sitting in this dank shit hole alone? Or am I about to get my shit rocked for taking an interest in some dude’s ole’ lady?”

He makes reference to receiving trouble, but turning to look at him, you aren’t left in any doubt that he could more than handle himself in a fight. Bikers know how to ruck. Outlaws – of which he is from the kutte – even more so.

You take a breath through your nose, sinking the rest of your drink. “You seem like a real charmer, but I’m not in the mood for it.”

His reply is quick. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Being left alone while I make my way through that bottle of Sailor Jerry.”

His eyebrow arches, a wide smile showing a mouth of perfect, white teeth. “Well, alright, baby. You don’t gotta be all mad about it.” he pauses then, sipping his drink. “Just know I’ll be sitting here, not able to get those thighs out of my damned mind. Ignore me, it’s cool.”

‘You’ve put on weight; I don’t like it. Go on a diet, for heaven’s sake.’

There they are, his words, echoing through your head again, the words of the man that up until that afternoon, you’d been married to for twelve years. Until he left you for a younger woman. A younger, slenderer woman. You are by no means fat, your stomach has remained flat, your arms are toned, but you definitely carry a little more weight upon your thighs, some more junk in your trunk, too.

Curvy is en vogue right now, but your ex? He wanted a toothpick with breast implants. Bad ones. And usually, you would never shame a woman for the kind of figure she has, or how she chooses to enhance it, but, well, you’re forty-five and feeling a tad bitter. She’s twenty-one, and living in your old house with the man who promised to love and remain faithful to you forever.

And now here you are, alone, in a dive bar, ‘celebrating’ your divorce being finalised as of five hours ago. It’s more drowning your sorrows; the simple truth of the situation is not lost on you. You did not intend to become a divorcee. What is lost on you, however, what you cannot even see, is just how attractive you still are, or how much the outlaw - who you might notice is at least ten years younger than you, if you were paying attention - cannot keep his eyes off of you.

“Thick thighs save lives.”

You can’t fight the upturn at the corners of your mouth. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that.

“Is yours in need of saving, especially?”

He snorts softly, cocking his head a little. “Depends on who I piss off.”

You can imagine, in his chosen career field. “I envisage it takes more than thick thighs.”

“Likely,” he confesses, “but after a long, hard day, they sure are nice to have wrapped around me.”

Oh yeah. He’s smooth as hell. And he knows it.

“Mine aren’t on offer for said wrapping.”

He hisses a breath, turning to you more fully. “That’s a damned shame, querida. Because I assure you, you’d very much enjoy me being between ‘em.”

You glance around the bar, seeing two groups of women who you have at least fifteen years in age on, if not more, looking back at the outlaw with the deep, chocolate brown eyes. “Why don’t you try your luck with a girl a little closer to your age?”

“Because I don’t want to.” Simple, concise. You can’t fault that. “I tire of girls. I want me a woman. There’s only one in here who I find attractive, so I sat myself down next to her. She ain’t biting at my bait, though. Damn you, making a fella doubt his game.” He shakes his head, sinking the bourbon, placing the glass down. “You want another in there?”

You have to mentally stop here, and promptly slap yourself. The most gorgeous man in here is working his damned ass off in order to flirt with you... and you keep knocking him back. Are you really so turned into such a hardened man hater, that you can’t even accept that one might, just might, find you attractive?

“That’d be great, thank you...” you trail off.

“Manny.” He offers his hand forward. You reveal your name, shaking it, a little ripple turning your tummy over pleasantly when he winks at you, so rapidly that you’re unsure if he actually did. He then calls Logan back over, the bartender dutifully refilling both glasses with your chosen poison.

“Thank you, Manny. Cheers.” You touch your glass against his, smiling as you sip your rum, turning and taking him in properly. Yes, he most definitely is the most handsome man in the bar. You truly should let it be the little shot in your arm you likely need to just unquestionably enjoy.

“So, why are you attempting to see yourself to the bottom of the rum bottle, then? You having a time of it, or aspiring to follow in the footsteps of Jack Sparrow?” Charming, gorgeous, flirty, and he’s funny too. You could do a hell of a lot worse. You could still be stuck with your philandering husband, as well as his bald spot/beer gut combo. Yikes. And he told you to go on a diet. The audacity.

“Both?” He laughs, shaking his head. “My divorce was finalised this afternoon, so I decided to take myself out to celebrate. Except it turned into a lament that I’m forty-five with a failed marriage behind me.”

He raises his eyebrows, glass paused on its way to his mouth. “You’re forty-five?”

“I suppose you find that a turn off,” you scoff lightly.

“Nope, I just put you at around thirty is all. I ain’t flattering either, for real, girl. Damn, you look good. I’m thirty-five and I have more smile lines than you do. As for the failed marriage, better off if he didn’t make you happy.”

“Nah,” you shrug, taking a swig of your drink. “He’s reserving that for the twenty-one year old with the square, plastic tits he cheated on me with.”

“Oh, man. Ain’t nothing worse than a bad boob job,” he grimaces, shaking his head. “My ex had hers done and they never looked or felt right. Made her sick too, so she took ‘em out in the end. I never wanted her to get ‘em done in the first place, but eh, it made her happy. Until it didn’t. Jokes on your ex, though. Because at the risk of getting slapped, I gotta say, yours are gorgeous. In fact, all of you is damned gorgeous. He’s out of his fucking mind, playing away from all of that.”

“Yeah,” you accede, feeling confident. “He fucking is. He wanted skinny, though, and that’s not me.”

“Skinny chicks, eh,” he pauses, sucking his teeth. “While I ain’t got nothing against ‘em, they’re a dime a dozen. Seeing a woman built like you, that’s what excites the shit out of me. I like what you have going on very much, mamas.” His eyes tour you again, a faint ‘Mmm’ noise echoing his throat as he licks his lips, his right eyebrow fluttering.

“That’s nice to hear, I guess.” You have to give him a little more, he’s working his butt off, and you see that clearly.

“It sounds like it’s about time you had someone tell you.” He pauses, biting his bottom lip, letting it slide out from his teeth. What it is about that action, you aren’t sure, but it made your insides throb. “If you were mine, I’d never let you out of bed. My free time hobbies would solely focus on making you damned happy with my tongue.” Such a statement makes you blow your drink back into the glass, Manny laughing into his, knocking back the rest. “Logan!”

The bartender ambles over, pouring him another measure. “Sorry if that was too much, by the way. I kinda lose my filter, the more of this stuff I drink. Also, after a little initial frostiness, I sense I’m getting you to thaw.”

You lean forward a little, catching his scent. Oh, boy. That’s one very nicely scented man, spicy and woody, with a hint of leather. “So... just your tongue?”

His smile widens, turning into a full-blown grin. “Take me home, and you get to find out.”

You drop your head for a moment, considering your options. Two fingers then lift your chin, Manny staring at you intently.

“You won’t regret it. And if you do, I won’t leave your bed until you don’t.”

That’s the best offer you’ve gotten since your divorce lawyer gave you five free billable hours.

“Drink up.” You both slam back the contents of your glasses, heading outside, taking your phone out and calling an Uber.

“How long?” he asks, nodding at your phone upon noticing the app.

“Four minutes.”

“Ahh,” he takes your face in your hands, leaning closer to you. “Enough time to enjoy this, then.” His mouth descends, lips capturing yours in a kiss, both of sugar and embers. It deepens in a nanosecond, his arms wrapping around you, yours draping around his neck. Oh, god. Ohhhh... can the man kiss. Slow, sensual, passionate. Fuck. It makes a warm, rich wave of longing wash right through you, so much so that you don’t even notice the Uber pulling up until the driver opens the window and calls your name.

The ride back is spent in much the same way, fused at the mouth, keening gently for one another. Once you arrive at your home, though, it isn’t quite as PG.

“Fuck, you are so goddamned beautiful.” he moans, pressing you against the hallway wall, his hands pulling at your top, tugging it over your head, fingers trailing down your neck to grasp at your tits. He then ducks, lifting you over his shoulder with ease, his hand pounding off your butt, making you scream with laughter. “God, I’m gonna fucking wreck you. Which way to the bedroom?”

“Down the hall, second on the right.” You’re carried there quickly, thrown down on your bed, reaching to turn the lamp on... and then swiftly regretting it when you see him shake off his kutte and undo his shirt, revealing the lithe, athletic body beneath, all tattoos, smooth chest and lean muscles. And he’s ten years younger than you. That’s when the gravitas of it hits you.

“You looked spooked. I’m not that bad, am I?” he smirks, moving to pull your legs straight again from where you’ve drawn them up a little, feeling self-conscious, trying to hide a bit.

“No, no it isn’t you,” you begin, sighing. Oh yeah, this is so sexy, having a panic with a one-night stand, one who looks as utterly magnificent as him.

He reads it well, shaking his head, getting back up off the bed. “Baby, we don’t have a problem here.” He keeps eye contact with you firmly, stripping off his jeans, kicking his boots and socks off, his tight, grey boxers the last item to be shed, standing there and gesturing to what can only be described as a very hard, very beautiful cock. “This should tell you how lacking in a problem we are right now.”

He crawls back onto the bed, hands parting your knees, kissing you heatedly as he begins to unfasten your jeans. “Let me see this sexy body.” By the time his kisses have reached the side of your neck, your legs feel like jelly, your body malleable to him entirely. Just from neck kisses. You’ve never had a man arouse quite so thoroughly, but with such little effort, yet you know from the way his mouth tours your skin, effort is exactly what you’re going to get with him.

Tugging your jeans down, he pauses at your underwear, leaving them on as his body settles against you, and that right there is a gesture that hasn’t gone unnoticed. He wants to see you nude, but he also knows that you’re a tad uncomfortable. He knows there’s still a little thaw left, a little winter remaining within you that the flush of spring he rains upon you with careful caresses, kisses and tongue swirls will eventually melt away.

Pleasant mists of heat trickle down your spine as his hands bracket your waist, his tongue fluttering over your collarbones, hands moving to begin stroking your breasts. Your nipples rise to his fingertips, your own hands smoothing up his arms and down his back, feeling the lithe muscles cording beneath your touch. His skin is utterly beautiful, a soft blanket of caramel brown covering you, juddering when your nails trail up his spine, his hips shunting against you. Hmm, he liked that.

“Did that feel good?” you whisper, stroking his short beard, steering his mouth back to yours, receiving decadent kisses full of need.

“Yeah. Pretty much my entire back is a hot spot.” Right on cue, he judders again, a soft moan pooling in his throat as your nails drag his shoulder blades. “Damn.”

“Mmm, noted.” He kisses you again, tongue circling in a slow swirl with yours, that coupled with him shifting, his cock brushing your hip has you keening against him, body arching to his, Manny reading your responses perfectly as his hand creeps beneath your back, flicking your bra undone with the kind of finesse you do not doubt for a second he possesses. Pulling it from you, he makes a low, quiet rumble of appreciation, mouth closing over your nipple and sucking, the action causing heat begin winding through your core.

“God damn, these are some quality tits, mamas.” His compliment makes you snicker a little bit, Manny glad to see you more relaxed. “What?” he chuckles, turning his focus to the other, tongue circling the stiffened peak.

You shake your head softly, still rippled by amusement. “I’ve never heard them referred to as quality tits before.”

“Ain’t you? Well, get used to it.” After he’s given thorough attention to your chest, he begins to shift, a little pool of excitement overflowing within you, because if he kisses and licks the rest of you like that, just what on earth is it going to feel like when his mouth is... oh, just where his fingers brushed against. He grunts lustfully at feeling the dampness of your underwear, a little bite placed upon your hip, hands tugging at the satin covering where his mouth begs to lead him to, pulling your undies off, parting your thighs and wasting no time in tease, his lips lowering to your centre and kissing your folds before his tongue laves through them.

“Mmmmm, oh my fucking god,” he moans, laying another few licks against you, mouth moving to sprinkle kisses over your pubic mound. “Y’all need to expect me to be down here for so long, you forget what I look like. Damn, that’s one sweet little pussy.”

Just twenty minutes or so in a bed with Manny, and you feel more attended to than you ever did in the entirety of your marriage. That truly does speak volumes. There he is, a man ten years your junior, with all the skill and care for a woman’s body that dictates he’s a giver, someone who pays attention, who thrives on showing a woman exactly what he’s capable of, painting a picture of passion across the canvas of her body, and doing so in a way so masterful, you can barely form thought.

He kisses your inner thigh a few times, thumb gilding your clit with strokes that evoke pure sunshine, pushing the hood back and making it stand out before his tongue takes over, soft flickers back and forth having you reeling, the pressure gentle, his eyes watching you as he smiles. “That feel good, mamas?”

“Ohhhhh!”

He chuckles, kissing your bud softly, the heat of his lips searing. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He’s right to, as well, for the pleasure conjured by the simple, soft beating of his tongue has light beaming through you, your walls fluttering, each lick sending tingles skittering down your spine. When he presses his tongue flat against you and drags right through your folds, your back arches, body bent like a bridge over a torridly flowing stream, Manny the water that rushes beneath you. “So fucking wet.” he mumbles, taking another greedy lick at you, mouth closing in a suck as his cheeks hollow, his mouth full of the softest, wet velvet.

His eyes close, his stupidly long, beautiful lashes casting shadows beneath his eyes, like the feathers of a crow wing, a few more long licks given before once again, the tip of his tongue focuses in on your clit, licking the tiniest of circles all around it. He moves it around, little by little, your body suddenly shuddering violently.

“Hmm, right there is pretty good, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s amazing!”

“That’s where I’m staying, then.” This man. He’s so good that not only does he know how a clit works, and how to touch it, but he finds out exactly where he should focus upon it, wants to know where the biggest concentration of nerve endings is upon the little bud, and then targets them. That’s dedication you can get behind, and find utterly mind blowing. He has you out of your head with ecstasy, his tongue beating back and forth, circling, then back and forth once more, lips sucking, and then repeating it all over again, and again... and, oh... again.

“Come on, baby. Damn, I really want you to cum for me, get my tongue even wetter, fuck.” he encourages you with, voice deepened with lust, each lick now placed firmer, driving your release, like a spirit being exorcised as you pant and tremble, crying out helplessly, your hands clutching his head as he brings you to you peak, crumbling for him like an ancient tower as your release fizzes through you, leaving you breathless. “How was that, gorgeous?”

“Can’t talk... ruined...” He bursts out laughing, a deep, rumbling laugh full of mirth.

“Not yet, you ain’t.” He emerges to kiss you, and you taste sweet on his lips, shifting back down again and gripping your thighs. “Hold these sexy assed legs up for me.” You hook your arms beneath your knees, pulling them back to your chest, Manny groaning at the view presented to him. “God fucking damn, that’s a beautiful sight.”

He takes a long lick at you, your clit still sensitive, making you quake when his tongue skims it, Manny realising this and gentling a little, moving his focus to gently push inside of you, tasting your pussy on the inside, moaning as his tongue bobs in and out, moving it down, circling your puckered star, your legs trembling in response. No one has ever done that before, and after a few moments, it seems he cottons on to that fact, too.

“What’s the matter, querida? Never had a horny Latino dude lick your asshole before?” He grins up at you, laying a soft bite to your butt cheek, chuckling with amusement.

“Nope!”

“Alright, I won’t stop, then.” he doesn’t, circling you, pushing within, thumb moving to stroke at your clit, your body feeling like you have entire galaxies burning and collapsing in on themselves within you, your entire sex burning with the continued divinity of what his mouth lavishes upon it. Moving his focus back to your clit, he sucks on it gently, moving his hand to push one, and then two fingers into your soaking heat.”Fuck, that’s so damned hot.” he exclaims quietly, moaning around you, eyes finding yours again, watching as he begins to trawl you, dragging your plush, fingers curling, pushing right against your g spot. “There?”

“Yes, right fucking there!” you wail, the circle he draws inside you burning you right to your bones. That, coupled with the licks he lays over your clit have you gleaming once more, body undulating, your hips purling against his face, Manny groaning as he feels you clench around his fingers, giving you more, sliding a third in and raking your walls, fucking you with them until the lewd sound of him cutting through your slick fills the room, along with your cries as he sends a sweltering flush of pleasure coiling through you, that coil snapping as you cum for him again, breathless and lost in the haze of your orgasm. “Fuck, I want your cock so badly!”

He grins, fingers gentling, kneeling before you, grasping his hardness and rubbing it through your folds. “Yeah, this big dick what you want, baby? Want me to fill you up and stretch you out?”

“Yes, oh god, so much!” you grit, the feel of him, the rigidity of him sliding over your folds and nudging your clit making your cunt throb.

“Can I bareback you? I fucking swear, I don’t got nothing funky you can catch, carina,” he states, lust blown eyes fixing on you, giving you a look that despite your usually better judgement, tells you loud and clear he isn’t lying. You nod, and in one fluid push, he fills you up, the heat of his bare cock within you scintillating, sending a storm of hail through your core. His mouth falls open, an almost helpless moan echoing from his throat, and you can feel the rigidity of him twitching within the snug clutch he’s buried in, parting your knees and leaning down to kiss you, hands sliding through your hair as his cock begins to pump into the silky slick of you.

You wrap your legs around him, squeezing your thighs at his waist, groans tumbling from him as he arrows you a little deeper, tilting his hips in a way that has him filling you, but not hitting your cervix. God, the man knows how to lay pipe, leaving a trail of lusty kisses across your throat, sitting back on his heels and spreading your thighs, watching his cock entering and retreating from you.

“Shit, mamas. You take me so damned well. Ahhh, fuck!” he grits, groaning deep, adding more speed, losing himself to it and beginning to pound into you, evoking your wails, hands clutching at your thighs as he fucks you deep and rough, slowing again, grasping that tentative composure, giving you slower strokes, pulling out, rubbing the head of his cock all over your hard little clit until it throbs against the weeping slit of his hardness, plunging back into you again with a barbarous grunt.

He alternates between unfettered vigour and slow, sensual trawling, pausing every so often to lean in and kiss you, his whispered words making butterflies erupt through you. “Do you feel beautiful yet, baby? Because you should.”

Because of him, you do. Anything your ex told you, about how you weren’t good enough for him, it’s being washed away on the current that is the man inside of you, Manny grasping your waist and hauling you up to begin bouncing you on his cock, mouth stealing hungry kisses full of need from you, strong arms holding you steady as you begin to ride him in a rhythm that has lightning darting up his spine. When you begin trawling your nails over his back, you increase that for him tenfold.

His skin erupts into goosepimples, his mouth kissing constellations across your neck as you grind down on his cock, the pressure perfect, but every bit of this tryst having you greedy for more, for as much as he can give. And give to you he does. Grasping your waist, he levers his hips beneath you, driving up into the sodden mess of your cunt with aggressive thrusts, meeting you in perfect sync, your mutual moans filling the room as your flesh smacks together.

“Oh god, fuck me!” you holler, Manny taking his instruction and giving you every last inch in rapid thrusts, slowing suddenly, levering you off of him.

“On your hands and knees, carina. I wanna watch this gorgeous, round ass bounce while I pound that sweet pussy.” His words set a further blaze through you as you move into the position he requested, feeling him behind you, cock stroking your folds before he daggers into you again, doing exactly as he said he would and pounding the life out of you.

It’s gut rearranging, skin smacking, nerve tingling, all out carnal brutality, your cries rasping your throat as you grip the covers, his hands fixed in a hard clutch on your butt, kneading the cheeks as he pistons into you furiously. You can feel it again, the light from the edges of heaven warming you as he sends you closer and closer, your walls tightening on him as the swell of nirvana throbs through you, each clench milking him of his release as he grunts furiously, thick ropes of cum shot deep into your fluttering heat.

He continues to move slowly within you, breath hot at your back, lips leaving a trail of kisses down your spine. Your divorce left you feeling pretty much dead, but the handsome, relative stranger you picked up in that bar, well, he truly did make you feel alive again. He makes you feel alive another five times that night, too, and at your door the following morning, makes it very clear he keeps on intending to as well.

“I’ll call you later, when I’ve slept longer than two hours. Damned insatiable woman,” he chuckles, kissing you softly.

“Alright, and thanks for last night.” He knows from your tone that you don’t believe him, but later that evening, when you’re out with your friends, not waiting around for a call you don’t expect to come, your phone rings.

“Hey, so I’m looking for this gorgeous woman, yeah, I think she can help me with something.” Your smile widens in an instant.

“Oh yeah? Word is, she helped you with enough last night,” you reply playfully, waving your hand when your girlfriends begin squeaking. Of course, they received the 411 on it all. It made for some juicy pre-dinner drinks fodder.

“Well, yeah, this much is true,” he begins, grinning at the memory. “But I still didn’t get between her sexy, thick assed thighs quite as much as I wanted to.”

Four hours later, after a cab has dropped you to his place, that’s exactly where he returns.

#manny mayans #manny mayans smut #manny mayans imagine #manny mayans x female reader #manny mayans drabble #manny mayans mc #manny mayans fanfiction #manny montana #manny montana smut #manny x female reader #manny montana fanfiction #manny montana x female reader #mayans mc #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine

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knight-rider-fan-2000 · 2 years

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I was chatting with my mom today about how unique Knight Rider is as a show for one reason only- having a character that's honestly, genuinely, and truly a car.

(Yeah, sure, there's Transformers, but watch any Transformers show and you'll see that they rarely keep the robots in car mode for any scenes. The car modes are almost exclusively used for scene transitions or for action set pieces.)

Knight Rider is different in that it challenges the viewer to imagine a character who is a car. This character is Kitt. There is no way for him to stop being a car, even when it's inconvenient for him, or even when it's inconvenient for the plot. Kitt, as a concept, asks the viewer to empathize- what would being a car genuinely be like? What challenges would that present? What advantages?

This is where most robots in fiction, and fiction that claims to analyze humanity through the lens of robot characters, ultimately fail. I'm hard-pressed to find another work of sci-fi with a lead character in such a genuinely divorced role from humanity. Most fictional robots have:

Hands, to physically interact with a human-scaled world in the way that humans do,

Faces, for humans to relate to, and

Eyes, for humans to look at, and tell where the robot is looking.

Kitt has none of these. He never gets any of these at any point. The show even reflects on this in episode 22 of season 1, where he projects eyes onto his screen for the little girl who's trying to understand him. Yet even this is temporary- he gets rid of them after only a minute, and the girl gets used to the real him accordingly. It's never portrayed that these attributes (of hands, a face, and eyes) are some kind of upgrade that Kitt is missing.

However, Kitt is still undeniably 'human', and this is the most important part. Kitt's way of thinking isn't alien just because his body is different. It's what he is thinking about that's been altered from the traditional human experience. This leads to a fascinating exploration of topics such as:

Accessibility. Kitt is constantly analyzing where his body can go and to what places he has access to. Even Michael Knight learns to start thinking this way as he grows closer with Kitt, to the benefit of them both. The question of what Kitt can do vs what he can't do given his body is at the core of Michael's problem solving when the show is at its best.

Priorities. What does Kitt care about? Again, it's deeply important that the first answer to this is "his friends", but barring that, what else? Things like a good road or the polish of bodywork become elevated in importance through his perspective.

Prejudice. A lot of science fiction has the trope of "robot racism", or the idea that there's a portion of humans who actively believe that sentient robots are not equal to humans. Knight Rider, however, never takes this easy drama. Humans treat Kitt differently, and sometimes with a shocking amount of disrespect (even after he's revealed himself to be a person,) but it's never out of malice. It's out of ignorance. The bulk of these humans have only the best intentions. This presentation reflects upon real-world prejudices through a different lens than the aforementioned trope, which has, by now, been thoroughly beaten to death.

Again, it's the fact that the show actively goes out of its way to tell the audience that Kitt has a soul (season 2, the episode literally titled "Soul Survivor"), yet doesn't shy away from the genuine differences he faces from being nonhuman, that makes it so damn compelling to me.

(Mind you, the way the show usually "explores" these themes is through the lens of comedy that relies on Kitt's differences being the butt of the joke. . . and that the inclusion of these deeper themes definitely do NOT cancel out the show's genuine problems with sexism/racism! But-)

I really do consider Knight Rider to be science fiction at (or at least close to) its finest. Which is an insane statement out of context, I realize, but I hope after reading this post you might be able to understand why. Knight Rider set the bar for robots in fiction for me and nothing has been able to compare since.

TL;DR: Kitt is a car. This is deeply profound.

#knight rider #k.i.t.t.#kitt #science fiction #robot #robots #artificial intelligence #robot character #yup yup bringing out the big boy tags for this one #I realized I can't say that knight rider is the best sci fi has to offer in terms of the robot department #without a whole boat of an essay to explain why #I also sound completely nuts when I say 'I want more exploration of disability like knight rider'#but I'm not brave enough to say that outside of the tags

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swxxtsxcchxrine · 7 months

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i need daddy kento to throw me around like i weigh nothing and call me all kinds of mean names and tell me that a bratty slut like me doesn't deserve his cock. but it's the only cock that could ever satiate my hunger. he's so mean but im here for it. i'd also totally ride his abs so hard he'd be asking if i think it's his dick. i need his cock DOWN MY THROAT ok i need his CUM INSIDE OF ME i need him IN MY BED OK i need this man in ways that CANNOT be explained. OK??? NO it's not OK bc HE'S NOT IN MY BED. i literslly wanna sob especailly because i know what is coming for my baby nanami. i just wanna hug him but at the same time have his dick inside of me. :((((

ANYWAYSSSS

imagine being a lonely housewife for a very busy man who often finds himself prioritising work over your needs. the kids are barely home and your friends are all consumed in their own lives. it seems peaceful - some might even say ideal - at first, however it starts to eat at you. especially on important events like your 16th annirvsary.

"i know i know, i promised but you have to understand that the meeting was pushed back and we still don't have the arrangements for the business trip. i promise i'll-" you cut off the phone before he could make another empty promise. you huffed, groaning as you faced the cold dinner you'd made for the two of you. it was the first meal you ever made for him when you guys first moved in together and unsurprisingly his favourite.

you walked back into the kitchen to pour yourself more of that special wine you saved for this day. you stared at the sink for a bit, letting your mind drift off, before hearing the sound of rushing water. you looked down to see water from the bottom of the sink rushing to your feet. you quickly scurried to the far side of the room, silently cursing under your breath. you grabbed your landline to phone your local plumber. much to your dismay, he was all booked out for tonight and you couldn't wait until the morning, however he mentioned something about phoning in the local fire station as most of the men were trained to deal with plumbing issues.

you placed your full wine glass down upon hearing the door bell ring. you checked yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall, running your hands through your hair and wiping the lip gloss off the side of your cheek, making sure you were decent.

"uh..Ms Y/N?" the tired man asks, his eyes hanging low as his peered at your appearance. to say you were an attractive woman was an understatement. your hair hung in loose curls that framed your face and your light blue nightgown accentuated your body shape. your baby blue silk robe seemed to flow and shift in elegance and grace. "this is she, are you nanami?" "yeah... kento nanami. i heard you've got a leaky pipe." he gestured towards the toolbox he carried with him. he followed your lead into the kitchen occasionally leering down watching your ass through the light fabric of the robe, his own shoes thumping to the beat of your own, matching house slippers clicking against the tiled floors.

"just what i thought, a loose pipe." he said grunting as he reached for his wrench. "you want sum' to drink, nanami?" you asked shoving the half empty wine bottle in his face. you were bored, alone and borderline drunk. he chuckled before shaking his head. "drink on the job? nah, no thank you," he sat up before he looked down and huffed. "oh come on, it's terrible drinking alone," you whine, slightly slurring your words, trying to convince the hot middle aged man to say a little longer. his sunken brown eyes bore into yours suspiciously. "you're alone? i thought i saw to dinner plates on the dining table," a sour expression immediately replaced your hopeful one. "oh right. it's my anniversary, but my husband got 'caught up' at work again," you huffed out annoyed.

nanami thought for a while. ever since his divorce, he hadn't come home to a freshly made meal. however he was here strictly for business and he needed to remember that. "well, if your husband isn't here, why let the food go to waste?" he smiled at you. your eyes lit up. it had been months since you'd ate with someone else. he smiled to himself as he watched you grab the dinner plate and popped it in the microwave. "and about that wine, why don't you pour me a glass to go with it,"

"my eldest was an easy baby. look, she didn't even cry when we pierced her ears," you pointed to the old picture of your daughter as nanami reached over to see your child in her infant years. "wish i could say the same. last time i saw my girl, she was always crying," he laughed light-heartedly before becoming silent as he saw your puzzled expression. "divorce. the missus got full custody," he shrugged, running his fingers through his hair. you didn't pry further. you moved over to his side, rubbing his shoulders as bent over, silently reasaurring him. "i'll get more wine. here lemme take your plate," you whispered, taking the empty glass from his hand, your breath lingering around the back of his ear.

as you scrubbed the plate clean, you felt hot breath fan against your neck. "nanami, what are you doing?" you gasped as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. his lips moved up and down your neck sensually, moving in a rhythm that had you dripping through your laced panties as he groaned in response. "nanami, we shouldn't," you protested, however you made no attempt to get away from his grasp, even as his grip tightened. "shh, you're so under appreciated in your own home," he sighed in your ear before planting a kiss behind it. you whined as you subconsciously rubbed against his throbbing bulge. "nanami-" "call me kento, please," he spun you around with one hand to face him.

his chiselled face moved closer to yours and for the first time you could smell his cologne. hints of sandalwood, spice and jasmine tickled your nose in the most sensual way. your eyes locked for a moment, before you looked away. it had been so long since you'd felt the touch of your husband let alone a man. the sexual tension increased with every second you guys took staring into each others eyes.

he soft lips brushed against yours as he looked you in your eyes, your foreheads touching. "if you don't want this, just say the words. say the words and i'll leave right now. this would be our little secret," he whispered. you searched his eyes, but all you saw was a sparkle. a certain sparkle he hadn't had in years. a certain sparkle you haven't seen in years.

his warm tongue swirled in your mouth as his hand cupped your aching cunt. his other hand was at the back of your head as the two of you sloppily made out. your hands cupped his face, caressing it in your soft hands. you groaned into the kiss as he pressed a finger against your clothes clit. "m'gonna make you feel s'good," he sighed as he broke the kiss, moving down to your neck. you whined as he pulled his hand from your underwear. he took of his jacket revealing his broad shoulders and wide chest hidden beneath a white wife beater. his veins popping out with every movement he made. "come here," he whispered eagerly holding out his arms for you to jump in. he lifted you onto the counter, his tender lips somehow making their way back to yours again.

you watched eagerly as he lowered himself, face to face with your dripping hole. "look at you. she hasn't been fucked in weeks, has she?" he sniggered as he watched your face drop. he'd gone from a well mannered service provider to a man with a fucking filthy mouth. maybe you'll keep him around longer. your thoughts were interrupted by a warm and wet tongue lapping against your clothed cunt. "nanami...!" you squealed instinctively reaching to grab on his hair and shut your legs around his head. he laughed at your reaction, the vibrations stimulating your cunt further. he simply just ripped your legs apart with his big strong arms. "keep still f'me," he demanded. you whined but nonetheless followed his instructions.

his mouth reattached itself to your sopping pussy as he continued lapping. he made sure to suck and nibble on your throbbing clit even through your lacey blue panties. you groaned as his fingers moved to play around and rub your slit. you huffed, your sensitive pussy clenching around an empty space. your legs started to twitch as he moved his fingers towards your clit, rubbing firm circles. "wow, you close already? so filthy..." he whispered condescendingly. "kento...!" you pulled harder at his hair as his fingered moved faster.

your legs began shaking as it became too much too quickly. "what is it, princess? you gonna come for me, yeah?" he watches as you gasp and attempt to close your legs around his hand. but he was just too strong. you gasped as he moved his hand, leaving on the edge of your orgasm. "what the hell?" you shot up from the counter. "be patient. i said i'd make you feel good, didn't i?" he raised a brow whilst unbuckling his cargo pants and dropping his drawls. they fell to the floor as his hot bulge made your pussy leak even more. "fuck..." he sighed, finally getting his dick free. he pumped his cock a few times, smearing the pre-cum all over.

he pulled your panties off, slick sticking to your foiled panties. his thumb and index pulled your lips apart, watching as your stringing arousal stuck them together and your hole clench around the cool air. "how long since you been eaten out, babe?" he asks. "what?" you sigh, too cock hungry to register his question. your whining gave him all he needed to know. he clicked his tongue before wrapping his lips around the sore bud. his large hands held your thighs open, as wide as they could go. you squealed as his tongue lapped against your cunt.

the only time he broke away was to spit on your filthy hole, watching as it dripped down to your clenching asshole. he was sloppy. and messy. and loud. he groaned in encouragement, making sure to make a mess out of your sopping cunt. you cried out in ecstasy as he brought his mouth to your clit again, this time making sure to suck hard. he shook his head from side to side, eliciting a high pitched moan from your mouth. "kento!" you whined at the stranger in your home from the sensitivity of it all.

"fuck...ken- m'so close" he groaned his response as your brows furrowed and your eyes glossed over in bliss. your hips buckled against his mouth despite him trying to hold you still. "stop squirming, pretty," he grumbled. "look at the way she's talking to me. she's just begging to cum," he squinted before bringing you right into his mouth again and holding you there. "come on baby," he spat on your cunt before diving in further. "wait- wait- ken-to..." you wailed, attempting to push his head away.

your cunt wasn't used to the stimulation of being sloppily eaten. the sensitivity was getting to you fast. tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes as you began sniffing. his grip tightened on you as you squirmed harder. your legs shook and twitched around his head.

"ken! slow down, please!" he smiled as he watched you writhe in his tight hold. your stomach tightened and your breathe hitched. your toes started curling as you arched your back and pulled his hair for dear life. your held your breath as you came all over his face. "yeah...that's it, just like that," he watched as your legs spasmed and your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled mindlessly out of your mouth. "fuck..." you slurred slowly coming back to your senses. he pulled away and closely watched you come down from your high as he slowly rubbed on your sore clit.

"hah...that was s'good..." you breathed. "i told you i'd make you feel good," he whispered as he took your hand in his and took your shaky figure into the living room. his large hand wrapped around your waist. he sat upright on the sofa beckoning you towards his lap. you sat in between his open legs. "ride me baby, show me how much you've missed having a dick inside of you," he leered at your figure towering over him. you discarded the silk robe and kneeled over his stiff cock.

"ken it's too big, it won't fit..." you thought for a bit. he smirked before rubbing your back. "come on, we can go slow..." "ken s'not gonna fit!" you pleaded. "you're a big girl, take it like one," he sternly said. your pursed your lips. you took it in your hands, pumping it a few times before sinking down.

you winced in unison, your tight walls squeezing on his throbbing dick. he was thick and girthy. hitting you in all the right places. he had you drooling already. he tapped you thigh, breaking you from your dicked hungry state. "wow, you really haven't been fucked in a while," he chuckled.

you started grinding your hips, experimenting with different paces. his hand remained on your hips, before you started to bounce up and down. "there's a good girl," he sighed, watching your body move up and down, fucking yourself on his aching cock. "you like that, yeah?" you asked, steadying yourself by holding his shoulders. his hand moved down to your ass before landing a heavy handed smack. he rubbed on the sore skin, before squeezing it in his hands. "fuck yeah, i love it," he whined, his hips buckling.

you laughed breathlessly however your pace never faltered. his grip tightened as you began to gain in speed. your gummy walls gripped on his eager dick, clenching tightly. you gasped upon feeling his cock meet your hips. your wet cunt made it easy for kento to thrust up into you and he made sure you knew.

"hah...fuck kento..." you cried looking down at him. his eyes were glossed over in a cloud of lust and hunger. "keep going f'me girl," his fingers moved towards your clit, rubbing firm circles on the bud. "keep going, come on," he huffed sexily moving the hair from his face, with his free hand. you winced as his pace quickened. "fuck, keep squeezing me like that," he whined, throwing his head back. "fuck Y/N..." his fingers continued to play with your clit while his other hand landed another sharp slap onto your ass.

your eyes rolled into your skull as his hips angled towards the spongey spot deep in your cunt. "fuck!" you whine. your legs buckle as he watches you fall. "oh you like that?" he chuckles lowly. "yes yes yes! fuck kento!" your eyes roll back as his pace quickens. he fucks himself into you hissing every time you clench down on him.

"kento, m'close!" you gasped, your grip on his shoulders tightening. he watched from below as your face contorted into that of bliss as he kept hitting that same spot. "just like that," your cunt squelched with every thrust nanami had to give you. your tummy churned as his dick pummelled your gummy walls. your slick was running down your leg as you let out babbles and moans of pure nonsense. you legs began to spasm as you started drooling. "whose dick is this?" he said through breaths. "huh?" you whined too dick whipped to comprehend anything. he smacked your bum again, "whose. dick. is. this?" he said firmly in between thrusts.

"it's mine, mine kento!" you wailed loud enough for neighbours to hear. "there's a good girl," his large arm wrapped around your waist, holding you still against his hips. your babbles increased in pitch and your legs grew limp. "you close baby?" he asked raising a brow.

you nodded eagerly. "use you words f'me. tell me how bad you wanna cum," "uh huh, uh huh, want it so bad kento!"

your toes curled and uncurled as nanami kept his hips at the angle that had you coming undone. "yes fuck! thank you! thank you!" you babble out nodding your head, tears stinging in your eyes. "fuck, you're too tight, loosen up f'me," he whined, his hips were stuttering as he tried to move but you were just too tight. you were too fucked out on his hefty cock to even acknowledge his comment. "Y/N, you need to relax.." his voice became higher in pitch as he continued to thrust into your tight hole.

his thrust became sloppy and inconsistant as his legs started to spasm. "m'gonna cum," he huffed, thick cock throbbing inside of you. "inside kento!" you wailed incoherently. "inside? you want it inside, yeah?" you nodded sobbing as tears from over sensitivity started flowing freely down your cheeks. his hips stuttered one last time before he came in your sore cunt.

his eyes rolled back as he huffed. his arm around your waist tightened as he began to pull out. your cunt oozed with a mixture of your slick, cum and his cum. "yeah, that's it...look at that. your cunt is just leaking," his filthy mouth was back at work as the creampie ran down your leg.

he slid his tip between your folds smearing the mess everywhere. his thick cock left your aching hole gaping as he kissed your forehead. as you leaned in to kiss all over his face, the landline rung. "i'll go get the phone," you sighed that such a sensual moment was being ruined.

"hello?"

"hey honey, how would you feel about a trip to a resort in Miami for a week?" your husband suggested as an apology for missing your anniversary. you thought for a moment before facing the firefighter in your home. he lay on the sofa, smiling goofily to himself, with one hand placed behind his head.

"sure, why not."

"and again, i'm sorry i missed our anniversary, i won't happen again." he chuckled from the other side of the phone. you did start to feel guilty about sleeping with another man when you have a hard working husband, but then again, your own husband was out having his own escapades with various other women you weren't aware about. "i'm sure i won't," you replied slyly before hanging up the landline.

you walked over to the nasty fireman before sitting back in his lap.

"round 2?"

"i thought you'd never ask..."

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fanfic-scribbles · 7 months

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Dinner Date Chapter 28

Masterlist

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Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. A prickly, generally asocial girlfriend, but they make it work. They have more in common than some people might think.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 28: A Celebration of Life

Chapter Summary: Steve gets an early birthday present, and reflects on good things past and present.

Chapter Word Count: 4342

A/N: This frigging chapter. It took some work but I’m finally pretty happy with it, and I hope you all have fun with it too. Warning for the very end: there is a section marked ~extra~ that goes into third person, present tense from an outside perspective. It was a little experiment and if you don’t like it I don’t think you have to read it since it is slightly divorced from what this fic is actually about, but…it does hint at something that will come up again in the future. Not any time soon, judging by how much work this chapter took, but… :3 Anyways. Enjoy!

Watching Pepper on the phone was an…experience.

Steve was doing some Avengers stuff in the training room and he was late so I ended up waiting in one of the upper floors, because apparently leaving to chill at a coffee shop was ‘weird’ and ‘anti-social’ and the day Tony Stark got to brag about being a better-adjusted human being was the day I bit off my own tongue. So there I was, drink in hand, with Pepper for company, while Pepper was still technically working. Or something.

What could have been an unbearably awkward situation though became a masterclass in how a functional adult handled a difficult phone call. At least, I assumed it was difficult. I sort of hoped it was difficult because if this was what she had to deal with normally that was fucked. I tried not to stare, and she was far enough away, (in this giant room bigger than most city apartments), that words filtered in and out, and she danced the line between patient and patronizing in a way her voice kind of masked but her facial expressions betrayed. It was kind of hilarious, at points, but eventually her expression relaxed, her shoulders sank, and she said, “Thank you,” in a way only the truly tired could, and after a few more pleasantries she lowered the phone, let out a heavy sigh, and detoured back to grab something from the fridge before she came back to the sitting area.

“I am so sorry about that,” she said and fell back onto the chair next to me.

“Oh, no, don’t be–” I said and waved her off, only realizing that was my drink hand just before I could slosh liquid onto a couch that probably cost more than my rent, and quickly settled back down. “I’m sorry for crashing.” I could only bite my tongue so far though. “However, no offense, but Tony Stark doesn’t get to be right about anything, ever, if I have a say in it.”

“That’s the only right way to deal with him,” she agreed. She popped the tab on her can, whatever was inside fizzed, and she took a long drink. Even that looked refined when she did it. She breathed a sigh of relief. “In any case, I have most of his birthday sorted, so that’s one thing off my plate.”

I nodded. Tony Stark’s birthday would be a huge to-do– wait. “Wait.” Wait. “Didn’t…didn’t he just have a birthday?”

“I start planning well in advance,” Pepper said. She gave me a very tired look. “Do you have any idea how hard he is to shop for?”

“God I can only imagine,” I said, because even without the obscene amount of money…yeah. I had decided to err on the side of liking Tony Stark, (especially after he had that PR ‘snafu’ for going off on that asshole who had been snarkily homophobic about Steve), but he was, and probably always would be, A Lot. “That must be nice to have it all set up though. I just barely found something for Steve’s birthday.”

Pepper got a look on her face that felt familiar. Though whether that was a ‘Steve’ grimace or a ‘another fucking gift-giving holiday’ grimace I was a little unsure of. “Speaking of people hard to shop for…” She sighed and rubbed her head.

I could sympathize. Hardcore. “If you really want to get him something he’d be fine even with a nice message on a pretty card.”

She gave me a ‘seriously?’ look, so I said, “Seriously.” And I (seriously) thought about it. “Heartfelt can be hard though, so I get it. But he really isn’t fussy. Charity donation in his name? A ‘get out of PR jail free’ card the next time he pisses off Fox News?”

She seemed to consider it, but then shook her head. “What did you get him?”

I puffed up, because my gift was awesome. “Concert tickets for an act and opener he’s going to love, and I’ve planned out dinner at a place he hasn’t been to yet.” It was torture to have to wait on the second one, but it was going to be worth it. Pepper was right; Steve was awful to buy for and always insisted he didn’t need anything and I was about to score ‘best girlfriend ever’ points for at least a month. I could only hope the memory of this birthday would help ease the sting of the future gifts I was inevitably going to whiff it on.

“That sounds wonderful,” Pepper said. Calculating. I did not like that. “How good are the tickets?”

Yeah, I really didn’t like that. “They’re perfect.”

She smiled deviously. “I bet I can get you better ones.”

“Nuh uh, paws off,” I said and mimed smacking her hands away. “This is my gift. You go get your own.”

She faked a heavy sigh– the smile gave her right away. “Any suggestions?”

I shrugged. “Are there any art things going on?”

It was a sort of flippant suggestion– she seemed like a fancy, in-the-know lady, and fancy, in-the-know ladies would know about stuff like art shows. However, I realized we both understood it for the surprisingly good suggestion it was at the same time. A part of me was a little bummed I hadn’t thought to bank that for myself for another time. A bigger part of me though was pretty happy to look smart in front of Pepper Potts. Also being helpful to Steve’s friends was nice or whatever.

And by the near-glow of her eyes, she already had a good idea, which was going to be good for Steve, so I couldn’t be too upset about it. “That. Is genius.”

I shrugged and tried not to smile as hard as I wanted to. “I try.”

“Do you know what kind of art he likes best?” she asked, whipping out her phone and tapping at the screen with furious purpose.

“He varies a lot and I haven't delved into his absolute favorites yet,” I admitted. It seemed to change by the week sometimes. “He posts some stuff on social media and goes around there liking things. Though if I could say one thing, I would advise you to be careful of abstract. Some of it he really likes and some of it he really fucking hates and I have no idea where that line is.”

“It’s okay; this– I think he’ll like this. It’ll be a little early but…” she said and beamed at me as she held the phone up to her ear. ‘Thank you!’ she mouthed and walked off before starting a whole new conversation.

I shrugged and leaned back against the couch. Since it involved Steve, I’d probably find out why she seemed so excited soon enough.

A few days later counted for soon enough. “So,” Steve said, fake-casual as he slid onto the couch next to me. Why he bothered trying to attempt casual with that barely-suppressed grin on his face, I could not fathom.

“So,” I said and kissed him, because he really was too cute to resist sometimes.

“So,” he repeated, but slipped his arm behind me and cupped my hip in a way that told me we could continue that line of activities later. “Pepper got me two tickets to an art gallery I’ve been looking forward to,” he said, focusing again. “Opening night of a new exhibit. Would you come with me?”

“That sounds great,” I said. “Pepper doesn’t want to go with you?”

“She’ll be there, but she said she’s going to be networking,” Steve said. “This way we can come and go whenever we want. I’ve been to a couple of showings; most of the time the people there are too snooty to care about Captain America hanging around, but I’ve seen previews of the pieces that are going to be there and they look amazing…”

Steve continued to go on about some of the artists and that somehow led to lighting and negative space and tonality and I sort of lost the thread after a while but I couldn’t help it– interesting though it was, it was more interesting to watch him go off into his own little world, smiling so easily as he talked about art education videos he was watching and he was just so happy that I couldn’t help but stare at him and soak it all in.

When he took a moment to go to the bathroom, I snuck out my phone and opened up my text log with Pepper.

Me: A++++ gift giving he’s going to be excited all the way to it Pepper: Thank you for the excellent idea Pepper: I hope I’ll see you there? Me: Definitely

“Who are you texting?” Steve asked as he sat back down and pulled my legs into his lap.

“Pepper. I was just telling her she did a great job with your gift,” I said and put my phone down.

“Really?” He let out a sigh of relief. “I was afraid I was boring you already.”

“I like hearing you talk about it,” I said. “I like hearing you happy and excited.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s almost like I care about you or some bullshit.”

“Well that can’t be right,” Steve said, but he was smiling too hard to be serious. “You have a reputation and all.”

“Damn right I do,” I said, and opened my arms. “Now get over here and ruin it.”

His grin was a little more wicked for what I had meant by that but, well.

I definitely didn’t mind his definition of ruin.

Art parties had pretty great food.

Well, this one did. The drinks were a little substandard but I kept an eye on the waiters with the finger platters at almost all times as I wandered around with Steve who, true to his prediction, did not get glommed on at all. I also watched for snootiness but everything felt really oddly chill and relaxed and…nice. It wasn’t as fancy as I had feared, but it definitely still cleaved to the nice side, and we had dressed up accordingly, but everyone really did seem to be there for the art, which was also pretty awesome.

And then there was Steve. He mostly stuck by me as we wandered from piece to piece, and whenever the artist was around and willing to talk with him, he always took the chance. So far he had a hundred percent success rate in surprising them by actually knowing his shit, and that was kind of vindictively fun to watch. I hadn’t paid attention to the theming and was at the point where I was too embarrassed to ask, but it seemed like a new art take on classic pieces and movements of the past. Leyendecker through a Warhol lens which had a companion piece of Warhol but make it like Leyendecker. Art deco graffiti. Alphonse Mucha if his seasons were made in the era of global warming.

So it was pretty fantastic. And we even got to hang out with Pepper for a little bit, the three of us stealing away to a corner with a small pile of pilfered snacks and drinks.

“You really do find the best hideouts,” Pepper told me appreciatively.

“I take my duties as resident miser very seriously,” I said, and tried not to beam too much at the compliment. Steve was grinning at me though, and when Pepper was distracted by saying hi to someone, I threw a napkin at his face.

“I saw that,” she said, but with a wicked smirk. She then stood up and straightened the end of her form-fitting dress. “Steve, have you seen the hallway gallery yet?”

Steve and I both peered where she was gesturing; a very wide hallway with good lighting that not many people were going down now. “Not yet,” he said as we both sat back.

She smiled cryptically. “I think you should. There’s a really great artist– well, several of course, but there’s one with a piece in particular that I…I think you might like.”

She escaped with a quick farewell, and I munched on the last of the snacks. “Mysterious,” I said once I was dusting my hands of the crumbs.

Steve stood and held his hand to me. “Let’s go find out, Watson.”

I scoffed, but took his hand. “I’m way more of a social disaster than you,” I said as we walked. “I should get to be Sherlock.”

“Solving mysteries seems like a lot of work though,” he said.

“True,” I admitted.

We meandered leisurely down the hallway, looking at each art piece and leaving the scarce few people behind as we went. I remembered briefly looking down this area at the start of the night and thinking, ‘Nope,’ with the ridiculous amount of people that had been down here before, but apparently they had all seen what there was to see, leaving us to enjoy it practically on our own.

“This is nice–” I suddenly bumped into Steve. “Oof!” I quickly backed up a few steps and he remained. Stock still. “Steve?” I asked, but he was staring up at the wall to my right, his expression stricken, and I turned to see what had him by the metaphorical throat. It was a mural, massive, and it took me a second for it to all come into view. When it did, when the image of a man with a very familiar visage fell into place, all I could manage was a soft, “Oh.”

“Bucky,” Steve said in an awed exhalation. I looked from him, to the painting, and back and forth again. He seemed to be taking it all in and I had nothing I could think to say, so I did much the same. It was a beautiful work of art; colors faded seamlessly together and words of varying sizes acted as modified stippling to create the whole image of one James Buchanan Barnes, larger than life like a comic book hero, but with a serious set to his face, wearing the iconic jacket, and fading out where it looked like he’d be holding a gun in his arms.

After several minutes of utter silence, I tentatively rubbed Steve’s arm. He flinched a little, but gave me a small, slightly twisted smile. “Sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”

He huffed a laugh, but his eyes looked a little wet and he blinked furiously. “It’s…I’m sorry; it’s…”

I squeezed his arm. “Hey,” I said softly. “It’s okay. It’s always okay and it’s always going to be okay.”

He swallowed and sniffled, but through sheer stubbornness did not let go of one single manly tear. Crying in public did suck though, so I wasn’t about to give him a hard time about it. I rubbed his arm up and down as comfortingly as I could, trying to help, and he moved slightly to take the hand I wasn’t using. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” he admitted softly, and gave me a weak smile.

“I know,” I said softly. I would have kissed him if I could have gotten away with it, but someone was walking down the hall towards us, so all I could manage was a brief but tight squeeze of his hand before I let go entirely, and he visibly tried to brace himself for the oncoming interaction.

“Hello!” a breathless woman said as she approached. She looked young but carried herself confidently, dressed in a stylish combination of pants, half-skirt, and suit-top, with locs in a beautiful half up-do that framed her face and cascaded down past her shoulders. “I was told there was someone who–”

As soon as she saw Steve, a lot of that confidence just evaporated and she froze with kind of an ‘urk!’ look on her face. As the seconds ticked on and Steve didn’t (probably couldn’t) speak, I squared up and hoped I wasn’t going to make a mess of things. I cleared my throat. “Are you the artist?” I asked. She looked at me, still a little frozen, but she managed a jerky nod and pulled her shoulders down from her ears. “It’s beautiful,” I said as emphatically as I could.

She seemed a little reassured, but her eyes flicked back to Steve, who was looking at it again. He swallowed and managed to look at her, a small smile on his face. “Absolutely amazing,” he said.

She exhaled such a long breath that I had to bite my hand not to laugh, while Steve was startled into doing just that. “I’m so sorry,” she said and waved her hand, relaxing a lot more as she walked closer. “My brother told me someone was standing over here but he didn’t mention who, and when I saw you, I wasn’t sure if it was uh…offensive?”

“In your brother’s defense, no one’s come that close so he probably didn’t get a good look at me,” Steve said, still a little dreamy as he looked at the picture. After a second though he frowned and looked at the woman, more focused. “Why would it be– it’s not offensive; it’s incredible. And I mean technically too; the way you…”

He drew closer to her, talking about the art itself, and she snapped into being a professional, talking to him, explaining the piece that was part of a series on the Howling Commandos, and I stepped back to let them have at it. I couldn’t keep from looking at the art itself again. I tried to imagine how I would think, if it was of Steve, if Steve had– but…I didn’t really want to think of that, right now, in the middle of what was actually Pepper’s birthday gift to him, meant to mark his life.

Though, I thought and tilted my head to see it from another angle, what a life. To make such a mark on the world that this many years after he was gone, an artist, a complete stranger, would spend however many hours of her life putting forth the effort to try and make him as large as the legacy he left behind.

Steve was right. It was pretty amazing.

We stayed there until it was time for the gallery to close. Though Steve had made sure he had all of the artist’s socials, and her website where he could see the picture any time he wanted, he still seemed to be soaking in the presence of the piece itself. So I felt a little like a jerk that I was getting sleepy, and I leaned into him to try and relinquish some of the energy used in standing straight to focus on appearing as awake as I could. He leaned into me in return, and I looked up at him. His expression was…peaceful. A little happy, even, and he glanced over at me and smiled a little more.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

I was more curious about what was going on in his head, but I wondered if even he knew. I still didn’t know how I would really feel if someone I loved so dearly was now being immortalized by strangers in giant murals, gone long enough to have become simply part of a story long past. Steve was here, and alive, and I was grateful for every moment of that, every turn of his life that led him here, that I didn’t want to think of the other way it could have easily been.

So I snuggled in and asked, maybe a little quietly, “Is it weird if I say your boyfriend was pretty cute?”

That probably could have gone badly, I thought in a way too belated realization, but Steve snorted and clamped his hand over his mouth as he tried to get a handle on it. Eventually he breathed deep, but the smile stayed strong. “He was very handsome,” he agreed and shot me a little smirk. “He would have corrected you with that.” Steve shook his head. “God, the two of you…I don’t know if I’d’ve survived that.”

I rested my head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand. “You probably would have been fine,” I said. “I would have been hard on him too. Sharing a boyfriend doesn’t get you any free passes. Just ask Peggy.”

He snorted, then looked abashed. “Fair enough.” He looked around. “Let me just snap a quick picture of this and then we’ll head out, all right?”

“Of course,” I said and took a few steps back to make sure I was out of the way. Steve took several shots, some from different angles, and then started to slip his phone back into his pocket when he suddenly stopped, and looked at me. “Hey,” he said. “Can I take a picture of you in front of it too?”

I leaned my head to one side and looked at it again. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Past and present; I just…really like the idea.”

“Sap,” I said, but my heart melted faster than an ice cube in July and I went to stand in front of the picture. I didn’t know how to pose, but after a moment considered how well Steve had taken my joke about how attractive Bucky was and– what the hell. I turned my back to the subject, clasped my hands in front of my face, bent one leg behind me, and threw the most coquettish look over my shoulder I could muster.

Steve snorted so hard, and took so long to regain his composure, I started tilting from my poorly-thought-out balance before he finally snapped a photo he was happy with. “You’re terrible,” he said with an out-and-out grin as I rejoined him.

“You love it,” I said and stood as close as I dared, even with the event winding down.

Steve showed no concern for any of that, and wrapped his arms around me. “I really do,” he murmured and snuck a soft, but lingering kiss.

~extra~

The picture causes a sense of overwhelming echoes in the back of the mind. It makes him want to break something.

He doesn’t. Someone spent time and effort and this isn’t his and this isn’t him. Not really. Not anymore. He sighs and relaxes his shoulders, and checks the time absently. The security guard won’t make it over here for at least another twenty minutes, and he intends to be long gone by then.

He should be gone now, and yet he stays. James. Barnes. Bucky. They don’t feel quite right anymore, fitting better the unreal image in front of him, and yet still he keeps them, like a familiar old coat gone too tight at the shoulders but too sentimental in value to throw out. In any case he refuses to be the Asset or the Soldier, and he can’t think of another name he would choose otherwise, and so he…keeps them. Just in case they fit right again.

He can’t wait to be out of New York though. He thought it would help, maybe bring things into focus, but those old memories come with flashes of pain, like when they were forced out of him, and he has to grit his teeth against every flinch they bring. He only wanted to come and check on…Steve. Because Steve is, was, always has been, the one thing that matters, and as hard as it has been keeping him ignorant of the ‘Soldier’s’ identity, the one thing that makes it easy is imagining the look on Steve’s face if he realizes what Bucky became.

That fight. It still hurts to think of; makes him wince. It’s better now than it was at the time though. At the time he fought through what felt like double-vision, a face ghosting over the one in front of him, and then to complicate things, the Target, the Mission, was competent in ways he had never known before; every hit matched, blow for blow, the Asset’s implacable strength against the Captain’s unyielding resolve.

And then.

“I can do this all day.”

And he had cracked in two. Six little words had broken him entirely, backup had arrived, and the Asset-not-but-yes had…fled.

But not back to his masters.

The months thereafter were (are) a haze of repressed memories, repressed nightmares, repressed…everything. But without constant conditioning and punishment, he had managed to pull himself back into the shadow of a person. And now he…

He breathes slowly, and finds himself holding his forehead again. He shakes away the pain, stands tall, and looks back to the museum entrance where he had watched Steve leave. With his date. With his partner. And it…hadn’t made him violent, like he feared it might.

Steve is happy. Genuinely happy in a way that makes Bucky nearly relax with relief, and the hurt isn’t as bad as it could be. He’s taking care of and being taken care of in return, and the jealousy and anger Bucky was prepared to have to deal with is just an empty space. This is good. This is better for everyone.

He sighs and checks his watch. Time to go. He has a tip that the redhead has not managed to sniff out yet (Jesus Christ she’s like a bloodhound sometimes) and he’s left another trail for them to pick up on while he follows this because, no offense lady, but this one is a lot more personal and he is actually looking forward to tracking this particular ‘head’ down so he can kick it right in the teeth.

Steve has a life. A good life. And he has a chance to live it now. He’ll handle cleaning up the small fries, and come home at the end of the day. Bucky will continue to take care of the worst of it. As he has. As he should.

He turns, and leaves the image of James Buchanan Barnes in the past. Where he belongs.

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#steve rogers x reader #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #captain america reader insert #avengers reader insert #dinner date

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