#your days will be filled with joy and gentleness because that's what you deserve for being a precious soul :(

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

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

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

Then you remember.

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

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

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

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

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

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

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

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

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

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean about the therapy?”

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh? What did she say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you certainly delivered.

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

“I can’t do this-”

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

“-tonight.”

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

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

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

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

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

Can we talk?

Yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

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

Joel looks at you perplexed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

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

You let him, because you are a weak person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you insist?”

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

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

“I didn’t want you to.”

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

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

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

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

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him.

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

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Ridiculous..”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

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

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

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

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

previous |

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

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

@sofiparallel

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller angst #infidelity joel miller #joel miller au #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel x you #joel x oc #angst fic #cheater joel miller

[navstuffs]

DO IT FOR HIM

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: Leon catches a particular item on your stuff.

Warnings: cute, two idiots in love, FLUFFY FLUFF, comedy, domestic!leon

Author's Notes: inspiration for this came from The Simpsons obvs and this amazing artwork from @emahriel. thank you so much giving me the honor to use it for my little fic! you should all check her blog, she has amazing artwork! i hope this fills your day with joy as much as i had fun writing it!

my leon's masterlist

"What is that?"

You and Leon have been cleaning your bedroom. The idea came from you: to let the energy flow around the house by donating and throwing away old items. Well, you were, at least. Leon is lying in bed, still wearing pajama pants and a shirt, although it is 4 pm. He deserves his rest, he says, and you agree. Because only Leon looks gorgeous in simple grey pants and a white shirt with a hole in the armpits. No complaints on your side.

"What is that?" Leon asks as you sit on the floor, surrounded by old stuff "That. Right there," Leon points, and your eyes follow. It is just your old collection of mangas.

"This?"

"No, behind it. That small little glass frame. What is on it?"

Small little glass…oh, crap. You immediately realize what it is, your stomach twisting. You thought you threw away that long ago before you and Leon moved together. It was a cute piece you made for yourself when you met him, feeling like a teenager in love again. It was never in your plans for Leon to see it.

"No-nothing. It's probably an old art project of mine," You try to place the frame with its face down, thinking of a way to get rid of it, before Leon, faster than you, is at your side, pulling from your hands. "Wait, Leon!"

When Leon turns the frame around, he paralyzes. It is his face. There are numerous pictures of him smiling, looking seriously at the camera, and even admiring the background scenery. There were a few of his younger self as well. And behind it, written in your handwriting in big black bold letters, DO IT FOR HIM. Leon looks at you, a smile appearing on his face, and he feels his cheek heat up.

You don't see that, your face hidden behind your hands. It was just a silly thing you did to help you during work. You placed it on your table to remind yourself to stay strong, even when things got hard.

You peek between your fingers to see Leon isn't in there anymore. Well, there you cringed the man of your life, and he probably regretted marrying you. Or, knowing Leon, he left to give a good laugh without embarrassing you.

Leon comes back, his wallet in his hands. You wait until he sits by your side and hands you the wallet.

"Open it."

You do as you are told, feeling Leon's gentle stare. You hadn't seen anything special in his wallet before besides cards and ID. You look up, and he motions for you to open his wallet. You do it, finding a small folded piece of paper.

"What is this?" You ask, cautious.

"Unfold it."

You wrinkle your forehead, opening the paper and looking at him surprised. It is one of the first pictures you took together after Raccoon City, and you just started dating. Although it was supposed to be a selfie together, Leon accidentally cut himself almost entirely out of the picture, focusing on you and your big happy smile. The paper seemed to have been folded and unfolded plenty of times. When you look at Leon, his face visibly red now, he confesses, his voice low.

"Helped a lot in dark times, believe me."

"Why this one specifically?"

"It was the first time you told me you loved me. I like to remember that."

Without being able to control yourself anymore, sniffling, you throw yourself in Leon's arms, hiding your face on his neck.

"Are you crying?" Leon wonders with a smile. When you don't answer, he rubs your back, whispering in your ear, "I still love you as much as that day."

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy imagine #is this my apology for writing emptiness? no not really lol

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | ix.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You fiddle with the hem of your sleeve in the back of the car. You glance at the driver. His eyes are peeled on the road, silence filling the air. You’re thankful. You’re in no mood for small talk. Your eyes travel outside the car window. Behind you, the Corso and the Snow’s apartment is getting smaller and smaller.

Still, the weight in your chest isn’t alleviated. Not one bit. Despite heading home, not an ounce of joy finds its way inside your heart.

Your mind was at war with itself at the Snows’ penthouse. You couldn’t settle on a decision. In fact, you considered going back inside the apartment. Because that at least was simple, easy…natural almost. If it weren’t for Tigris pressing you to get inside the car and physically nudging you inside it, you’re not entirely sure you’d have even made it here.

And now…guilt consumes you.

You should be back in the room, dutifully waiting for Coriolanus ‘ return as he instructed. You’re breaking the rules. His rules.

Your stomach aches. You want to puke. What have you done? You almost find yourself wishing you were still back there. 

In a twisted way, Coriolanus has become a scourge you’ve grown familiar with, a woe that blends so well with all the others. He terrifies you…but he also knows you. So well. All your fears, your hopes, your dreams, your insecurities. It’s more than you can say for anyone in your life. Even William. He thinks you’re that perfect, pure, resilient girl. You never had the heart to burst his bubble.

A deep breath makes his way inside your lungs. 

No. No.

Coriolanus is bad. Coriolanus hurt you. You keep reminding yourself of that, replaying every moment when he made you feel small, powerless.

Besides, you miss your mother. Ma’s soothing words. Her gentle voice. Her warm embrace. Ma always makes things better despite struggling to understand you sometimes. 

You need her and you bet she probably needs you to. 

You even started to long for your father’s stern brow and disapproving stares.

As for William…truth be told, you’re beginning to ponder if you ever deserved him. He was always too good for you. Too kind. Too sweet.

You girdle a fresh rush of tears.. He should find someone who won’t lie to him, hide from him, betray him. Someone better than you.

It was naive of you to even pretend you could marry a man as wonderful as him.

The car halts in front of your parents’ house. 

The driver’s cheerful voice tugs you back to reality. 

“We’re here, miss.” he says. Astonishment draws a gasp from you. The drive flew by in a quick blur. Knee deep in the sea of your somber thoughts, you failed to notice you were approaching your childhood home. You fetch a bill inside your pocket but the man waves a dismissive hand at you. “Please, Miss Snow already took care of everything.” He gives a sympathetic smile. You wonder if he’s guessed anything or if he’s just picking up on the air of gloominess hovering around you. “Just take care of yourself, darlin’.”

Nodding, you mumble a quiet ‘thank you’. You exit the car and anxiously shuffle up the porch stairs. A warm breeze flutters through your chest at the sight of the familiar building. 

You’re finally home. 

Your gaze drifts to the garden. Surprise trickles inside you as you note that your roses are still thriving despite your absence. You wonder who you’ll have to thank for that. This batch has needed meticulous care ever since you planted the flowers. Neglecting them, even for a few days, could cause them to wither and perish.

Engulfed in contemplation, you’re startled when the front door abruptly opens.

You’re faced with Demetria’s bright smile and tearful gaze.

“Oh sweetie,” your mother exclaims, wrapping her arms around you.

You blink, taken aback by your mother’s sudden embrace. For a while, you’re unmoving, afloat in sheer disbelief. 

Then quiet words fall from your tongue.

“Hey, ma.” You relax a little, your eyes closing as you hug her back. You bask in the homey scent of Ma’s perfume, worry pulsing through you when you notice how much weight she has lost since the last time you saw her. Your mother’s hardly more than bones and flesh. You shiver. Perhaps, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been gone so long. You’d have ensured Ma takes good care of herself, that she eats and doesn’t sink in a well made of her own grief.

It’s what you used to do before your world fell apart. You failed your mother. Again.

You and Ma enter the house together. You bask in your surroundings, soaking in every detail. Tears almost spill, a surge of emotion mounting inside you, but you blink them away. You’ve wept enough, been scared enough. He cannot get to you here. You wish to enjoy the fact that you’re safe and sound without turning into a puddle of tears. 

Arm threaded with yours, Ma leads you to the sunroom. Colorful strips of sunlight pour from the stained glass, dousing the room in warmth. The two of you sit and, some moments later, tea and cakes are brought to the table. Your insides clutch as your eyes land on a spot on the couch. You and Coriolanus had so many conversations here. In that very same spot, he held you in his arms and listened to you as you spilled your heart out.

Your mother starts prattling on about the house and what Strabo’s been up to while you weren’t here. You’re a bit flabbergasted that she’s not questioning where you’ve been all this time, her tone airy and casual, but you don’t have the heart to interrupt. You’re just elated that you can be with her again.

When your father enters the sunroom, you nearly drop your cup. He makes his way to you, on the cusp of tears for the first time since you’ve known him. 

You melt in his arms when he hugs you. He cradles the back of your head like when you were little. The tears you held hostage before now roam freely down your cheeks.

“Dad,” you whisper, sniffling.

He holds you in his arms a long time before his embrace slackens. He gauges you, relief dawning on his features. He smiles. Warmth rushes to your chest. You haven’t seen your dad smile in a long time. He rubs your arms and says, “Sweetheart, We weren’t expecting you so soon.” He cups your cheek. You almost flinch at the loving touch. But then you remember. This is your father. He wouldn’t hurt you. You’re safe. “But it’s a really nice surprise.”

A watery laugh spills from your lips.

“What? But…But I’ve been gone for weeks.”

Strabo’s shoulders sag, sympathy oozing from his tone.

“Yes, but we know that…it was easier for you to stay with the Snows for a while, sweetheart. We understand.” Befuddlement wells up within you. You glance between your dad and your mother. The compassion written on their faces mirror each other. Your father pats your arm, aiming to reassure you as he adds, “Coriolanus explained everything in his letters.”

A sinking feeling grows in the pit of your stomach.

Your tremulous voice swells in the room, edging on a scream.

“What do you mean by everything, dad?”

“Sweetheart, we know. And we aren’t judging you. I promise you. Your mother and I have been young too and-”

“Can I see those letters?” you snap, dread flaring along your spine.

Strabo’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Well they’re in my study, but-”

You don’t let him finish, racing through the house and making a beeline for your father’s study. Your parents trail behind you, concern etched on their faces.

“Sweetie? What’s going on?” Ma calls.

You don’t look at them, busy rummaging through your father’s desk. Your frustration grows as you open and close every drawer.

“I need to see them. Now,” you absently reply.

“I think you need to-”

“Now, dad!”

“Alright, alright. Here.” Heaving out a weary sigh, your father strolls to a cabinet on the other side of the room. The frantic uproar of your heart fills your ears. Strabo flips through several folders before retrieving a stack of letters beneath a bunch of other files. He brings them to you and you snatch them from his hands, ignoring his shocked expression. 

“Are you okay, kiddo?” he murmurs. 

Your gaze falls on Coriolanus’ neat, precise handwriting. The ink blurs in your sight as you register his words, frantically flipping through the pages. Only bits and pieces sink into your mind as your eyes hop from one sentence to another. By the second, you grow more and more horrified.

Your daughter is safe with me, you have my word. 

Our feelings have grown too strong for us to pretend.

As the preparations for our wedding have taken much of our time…

She is terrified you will disown her but I will speak to her. 

…will return when she is ready.

…for however long it takes, do not worry.

…as she is too embarrassed to announce our love to the entire capitol.

Your daughter is well and misses you dearly.

I shall do everything in my power to keep her safe and happy, now and forever.

Safe and happy. Now and…forever?

Your heart sinks to your feet.

Your mouth wobbles as your eyes rise to meet your father’s.

“No, dad. I-I don’t think I am.”

The room starts dimming around you, your knees buckling as you struggle to keep yourself upright. Your father rushes to your side. 

Then all is darkness.

When your eyes quake open, you’re greeted by the comforting sight of your bedroom. The same plushies you’ve had since you were five sit on the shelves. Pictures of your family adorn the wall beneath fairy lights. Your wardrobe is against the wall at the exact same spot and so is the antique full length mirror you received on your fourteenth birthday. 

Everything’s exactly where it should be. And it drapes a balm on your wounded spirit. 

At least nothing about your bedroom has changed.

You never should have left those familiar walls,  succumbed to boyish smiles and honeyed lies. You should have stayed right here, drowning in your own tears and choking on your pain. It beats the hell you’re experiencing now.

Your mother strokes your cheek.

“You haven’t been eating,” she says.

You sit up in your bed.

“Neither have you, Ma,” you retaliate, your brows squeezing together as you scrutinize her.

She sends you a sad smile.

“We can eat together.”

You nod. “I’d like that.”

Your gaze travels outside your window, where you get a glimpse of the rose bushes, the blushing petals brighter than ever.

“Who took care of my roses?” you mumble without thinking.

“I did.”

Your mouth falls open. “But you hate gardening.”

Ma snorts, caressing your hair. “And you’d have been sad if they’d have died while you were gone.”

Your heart swells. Your mother hasn’t stepped foot in the garden once before. She harbors a disdain for any kind of manual labor since your family left District 2. You’re in awe that she still took it upon herself to care for the flowers because she knows how much it means to you.

“I've missed you, Ma,” you say, pulling her against you for a tight hug.

“I've missed you too,” she replies, rubbing your back. “You really gave us a scare, child.”

Her long exhale flows against your shoulder. “Like I said, we understand why you had to stay away. You and Coriolanus needed time together. I just wish you felt comfortable enough to tell Dad and I the truth.”

You freeze. You’re suddenly struck with the remembrance of what occurred before you passed out and landed in your bedroom. The letters. The ghastly, dreadful letters. Or rather Coriolanus’ dizzying tower of lies. It’s no wonder your parents didn’t seek you out.

He peddled a fairytale to them. One where you’re the princess and he’s the prince coming to your rescue. Star-crossed lovers thwarted by fate. Indignation sears through you. 

Your brows knit as you lean back.

“Ma, about Coriolanus-”

Your sentence is curtailed by a bashful knock on the door. Your mother urges whoever’s on the other side to enter. A maid appears, bowing in apology.

“Mr. William is here to see you, miss,” she announces.

Your heart skips a beat.

“Oh.”

Your fingers clench, your nails digging into your palm. It was bound to happen at some point or another.

Ma seizes your shoulder, her forehead scrunched in concern.

“Do you want me to come with you, sweetie?”

You shake your head. “No. I’ve hidden enough.” You give a feeble smile. Inwards, your heart is steadily shrinking. “I’ll talk to him. Alone.”

“Are you sure? Your father and I are here if you need anything.” Her frown accentuates. “You shouldn’t let anyone get in the way of your happiness.”

You shrivel at her words. How do you even tell her and Dad? Where to even start? And most importantly, how to do it in a way that wouldn’t break their hearts?

You’re aware of the void Coriolanus has filled for them since Sejanus’ passing. While he was a brother to you, he was a son to them. 

Your father’s taken him under his wing, funding his tuition and even teaching him about his business. Your mother’s grown fond of him, regularly inviting him to lunches and even baking for him sometimes.

The Plinths and Snows have become entwined, tangled as branches growing from the same tree. And you’ve let it happen, unaware your parents were allowing a viper into their home.

You want to come clean, deliver your full truth. But the fear of causing them more hurt stitches your lips shut.

Electing to set the matter aside to focus on the one currently before you, you drag your feet downstairs. You can figure out a way to talk to your parents later. 

Right now, there is one person that demands your full attention. 

You’re stunned to see him standing in the lobby. It’s been so long. A lifetime ago it seems. He’s as boyishly handsome as you remember him, dark curls framing his face and vibrant forest orbs sparkling with longing at the sight of you. 

“William,” you greet weakly.

He wastes no time in running to you and wrapping his arms around you. 

“Baby, I’ve missed you so much.” 

Nuzzling the crook of your neck, he takes a long minute to soak in your scent. Your chest twinges.

“William…”

He steps back from you, his gaze narrowed in suspicion.

“Something’s wrong,” he finally says.

“Maybe we should sit-”

“I’m fine standing up,” he counters. He lifts your chin. “Just talk to me.” Your lips squeeze as your pulse quickens. So many words sizzle your tongue yet none will burst forth. William scoffs in frustration. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. I’ve been going crazy thinking about what possible reasons you could have to stay in Coriolanus Snow’s house of all people. You owe me that at least.”

You give a slow nod.

“You’re right.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat before meeting his gaze.

“William, the truth is…I can’t be with you anymore.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction

[songbirdseung]

WAKING UP NEXT TO THEM / EN-

synopsis: spending the night at their place for the first time and waking up next to them for the first time.

HEESEUNG 이희승 ~

you are definitely waking up before him.

because the night before, you guys played video games till 3 in the morning.

so, you just lay there and appreciate your bambi boy.

You slowly open your eyes, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. As you regain consciousness, you find yourself lying in an unfamiliar bed. The memories from the night before start to flood back – the laughter, the video games, and the undeniable connection with Heeseung.

Careful not to disturb him, you turn your head to find Heeseung peacefully sleeping beside you. His tousled hair falls gently over his forehead, and a serene expression graces his face. The room is quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside.

As you lie there, you take a moment to appreciate the details – the rise and fall of his chest with each peaceful breath, the warmth radiating from his body. The room is filled with a comforting stillness, a stark contrast to the lively gaming session just hours ago.

After a while, you notice a subtle movement from Heeseung. His eyes flutter open, adjusting to the morning light. He blinks a few times, and when he finally focuses on you, a soft smile graces his lips. "Morning." As you lie there, you can't help but feel grateful for the simple joy of waking up next to someone who makes your heart race.

JAY 박종성 ~

you already know, this man will wake up early and cook for you

BREAKFAST IN BED FOR YOU QUEEN!

he'll kiss your face to wake you up

You're still lost in the land of dreams, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in comfort. The gentle morning light seeps through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day. Unbeknownst to you, Jay is already up and about, quietly preparing a surprise for you.

"Wake up, baby" He sets the tray down on the bedside table, and you're greeted by the sight of a carefully arranged breakfast in bed. There's a stack of pancakes drizzled with syrup, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. It's a feast fit for royalty.

"What's all this?" "Breakfast for the most amazing person I know. I thought you deserved a little pampering today."

He leans down, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. The gesture is filled with warmth and affection, making your heart flutter.

You sit up, still in awe of the thoughtful surprise before you. As you enjoy the delicious breakfast Jay prepared, he sits beside you, stealing glances to gauge your reaction. "This is incredible, Jay. Thank you."

"Anything for you, love"

JAKE 심재윤 ~

both of you would be waken up by layla

teeth rotting sweetness from the moment your eyes meet jake.

he won't let you get up, just continues to cuddle you despite layla's barks

The sun has just begun to cast its gentle morning glow through the curtains as you find yourself slowly waking up beside Jake. The room is filled with a comforting warmth, and Jake's arms are wrapped around you, creating a cocoon of security. Everything is calm until the sound of excited barking breaks the peaceful silence.

Layla, the energetic ball of fur, has decided that morning cuddles are overrated, and it's time for some play. Her energetic barks echo through the room, threatening to shatter the tranquility of the moment.

"Looks like someone's ready to start the day." Despite Jake's attempts to keep you wrapped in his embrace, Layla's enthusiasm is infectious, and she insists on being the alarm clock for the day.

Layla's barks escalate, and it becomes clear that she won't take no for an answer. Jake chuckles and releases you from his grasp, sitting up with a playful glint in his eyes. "I think Layla wants us up, love."

"She's persistent, isn't she?" Jake nods, and you both share a laugh as you get out of bed. Layla, unable to contain her excitement, starts hopping around, tail wagging furiously.

"Alright, let's see what our little troublemaker wants."

As you follow Jake and Layla to the living room, you find yourself enveloped in the morning routine that involves playful banter, belly rubs, and the infectious joy that only a dog can bring. Jake pulls you into another warm embrace, Layla contentedly lounging nearby. Despite the playful chaos, the morning feels perfect – a blend of canine energy and the tooth-rotting sweetness of Jake's affection. As you share a quiet moment, Layla sprawls out between you, seemingly satisfied that her mission to start the day with joy has been accomplished.

SUNGHOON 박성훈 ~

he'll feel the sun on his face and wake up before you

stares and admires your beauty (cause you're a stunner babe)

fell in love with you for the nth time

The soft rays of the morning sun gently filter through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Sunghoon stirs, his senses gradually awakening as he becomes aware of the sunlight kissing his face. With a contented sigh, he opens his eyes, and the first sight that greets him is you, peacefully sleeping beside him.

You're bathed in the soft morning light, your features softened by sleep. Sunghoon can't help but marvel at your beauty, even in the simplicity of this moment. He takes a moment to simply admire you, the way your eyelashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks and how a faint smile graces your lips.

Sunghoon can feel his heart swell with affection as he watches you, a warmth spreading through him. The sun seems to accentuate the radiance that surrounds you, making you appear ethereal in the morning light. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and gentle so as not to disturb your peaceful slumber.

"How did I get so lucky?"

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your forehead, savoring the sweetness of the moment. Sunghoon takes a mental snapshot, wanting to remember this instance – the quiet morning, the warmth of the sun, and the overwhelming love he feels for you.

SUNOO 김선우 ~

you two are in synced, the same person

you wake up at the same time and admire each other

later, you both do each others' skincare routine.

The morning sun casts a soft glow into the room, and as your eyes flutter open, you realize that Sunoo is already awake, his gaze fixed on you with a fond smile. There's a moment of quiet understanding as you both share the same thought – the joy of waking up together.

"Good morning, Sunoo."

"Good morning, my other half."

You exchange a loving look, feeling a connection that goes beyond words. It's as if you share the same heartbeat, synchronized in the rhythm of the morning. With a playful twinkle in his eyes, Sunoo leans in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

As the morning routine begins, you decide to do something fun – a joint skincare session. Sunoo grins, always up for a bit of banter.

"Are you ready for the ultimate couple skincare routine?"

"Absolutely. We'll be glowing by the end of this." You gather an array of skincare products, and with playful banter and laughter, you take turns applying masks and serums. Sunoo can't resist making funny faces as you carefully spread a mask across his face, eliciting laughter from both of you.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this to me." The banter continues as you exchange beauty tips and secrets, each step of the routine turning into a shared experience. Sunoo even attempts to mimic your skincare routine with exaggerated gestures, causing both of you to burst into fits of laughter.

JUNGWON 양정원 ~

you need the bathroom? too bad, he's not letting you leave the bed

wants to stay in bed the whole day

loving the new experience of waking up next to you

The soft morning light spills into the room, casting a warm glow over the two of you. As you start to stir, Jungwon tightens his grip around you, refusing to let you slip away from the cocoon of blankets and warmth that surrounds you both.

"Jungwon, I need to use the bathroom." Jungwon, with a playful smirk, pulls you closer, his arms securing you against his chest.

"Nope. We're not leaving this bed today." You chuckle, feeling the irresistible pull to stay right where you are – wrapped in his embrace. "But nature calls, Jungwon."

"Nature can wait. Right now, all I want is to stay in bed with you." He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, showering you with affectionate kisses. A mischievous glint in his eyes tells you that he's not going to let you go easily. "What if I promise to come right back?"

Jungwon tightens his hold, his warmth and laughter filling the room. "You're not escaping that easily. Today is a bed day, and I plan to enjoy every moment of it."

You can't help but surrender to the idea. After all, who could resist a day of relaxation with Jungwon? As you settle back into the pillows, Jungwon peppers your face with sweet kisses, reveling in the newfound joy of waking up next to you.

NI-KI 西村 力 ~

as much as he is a prankster, he'll respect your sleep

he'll bask in the moments and pull you closer to him

and you'll be enjoying the romantic side of ni-ki

Ni-ki, despite his mischievous nature, decides to play the role of a silent observer this morning. He refrains from any playful antics that might disturb your sleep, opting instead to bask in the quiet joy of waking up next to you.

As you open your eyes, Ni-ki pulls you closer, his arm wrapped around you in a protective embrace. There's a tenderness in his touch, a departure from his usual playful demeanor. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Morning, sleepyhead." You smile, still feeling the warmth of sleep clinging to you.

"Morning, Ni-ki. What's got into you today?" Ni-ki grins, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "Just enjoying the view. You're not bad to wake up to, you know."

You playfully roll your eyes, appreciating the unexpected romantic side of Ni-ki. As the morning progresses, Ni-ki remains by your side, savoring the quiet moments of connection. He pulls you into a sitting position, his gaze fixed on yours. "I was thinking, we could just stay here, enjoy the morning together."

You can't help but be drawn into the romantic atmosphere that Ni-ki has unexpectedly created. You nod in agreement, both of you reveling in the simple pleasure of shared silence.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #heeseung #jay #jongseong #jake #jaeyun #sunghoon'sunoo #jungwon #ni-ki

[jymwahuwu]

Dan Feng x assassin female reader!!😍🥰😘😍😘🥰🥰🥰

Reader is an assassin that was assigned to kill the Yinyue Jun. The reader is very confident and accidentally messed up during her mission.

She was pretending to be maid in his palace. He doesn’t realis it and fell INLOVE with her 😍😍😍😍😍😍 He flirt and tried to court her several times. But she just tried to ignore him but then realizes this could be a chance to kill him. So she acted shy and pretend to like him back UwU

One day, Dan feng asked reader to come to his room to ‘accompany’ him. She thought that she will just need to sit next to him and hear him talk. So she said yes. What she didn’t know is that he was planning to breed her 😩😩😩😩😳😳😳

When she arrived she was quickly thrown to his bed. Then he begin breeding process.(can u explain it in full detail explicitly 😚☺️🥰😘😘😘🫶🫶) At the end her two holes were filled with his seed.

Later he found out she was an assassin and ‘punish her’ U3U💅💅

They got married since she’s pregnant shockingly

👩‍👧< Her holding Bailu🤟👁️👄👁️🤟

My first reaction was that those assassin attempts were bound to turn into comedy and be misunderstood 🤭

CW: yandere, non-con, forced breeding, pregnancy, assassination, fem reader

You may have taken on this mission for some reason, perhaps because you were threatened or because you were waiting for money to save someone important. knew Imbibitor Lunae didn't deserve any of this, but you had no choice...

But maybe the Aeon Elation is playing tricks on you in the universe, and your assassination method is completely comic- Everything you do is considered a friendly signal or an expression of affection. You hide the knife in the void device. This can be summoned at any time using some kind of space technology and wielded towards the mission target.

However, the moment you were about to summon the sword, Dan Feng turned his head, took your hand, and enjoyed the garden with you. He thought your gesture was some form of waving hello. It's so sweet of you to show kindness like that. What's even more shocking is that he can weave a beautiful and delicate chaplet for you in just a few seconds and put it on your hair without any expression-

You (wearing a chaplet):???????

You took over the kitchen duties and put the medicine in his dinner. However, Dan Feng changed his mind temporarily. He only took you, one of his maids, on a Starskiff, traveling light years away and entering an exotic restaurant. The dinner you prepared is completely useless. The waiter will lead you to your seat. Under the candlelight, Dan Feng chats softly with you. You were confused, but nodded occasionally. He is very satisfied and thinks you are gentle and considerate, the most suitable candidate for his wife.

After these speechless moments, you gradually realize that Dan Feng is pursuing you.

That day, as always, you needed to be there for him. Dan Feng has not had any inappropriate physical contact with you in the past few months, so you think this is just an ordinary "company". However, it was different in the High Elder's mind. That day is the traditional day of fertility and mating in Vidyadhara…people look for partners to mate, and dating on that day means they are willing to mate. The appearance of your figure at the door was like the light of fireworks, igniting the happiness in High Elder's heart, but he just pursed his lips and did not show too much joy. His hands slide to your waist from your shoulders, leaning in close and pecking your lips.

"Wait-wait, my lord!"

Unbutton your maid uniform and lift it open. Your breasts are quietly wrapped in the bra, waiting to be rubbed. In the flash of clouds and rain, you vaguely witnessed him transform back into his full dragon form several times, his tail spreading and squirming around your body like it's entangled with prey. There… there were two of them, both vigorously erect against your belly. This will be a preview of how deep it will go next. You gasped. All intentions disappeared. You are inevitably aroused by the explicit visual sight before you. There's an unfamiliar, warm twitching in your vagina. You…can't believe you ever wanted to assassinate such a dragon. And this is his true form. Did he find out?

"I will turn myself in...don't do this..."

Your words confused him as the non-human cock sank into your pussy until it bottomed out, but the words were lost in moans and whimpers. The testicles press against your sensitive, glistening petals, and the cock is loud, ravaging the wet and sore vagina. The thrusting melody swayed together with the tail. Until a seemingly ordinary thrust penetrates deeper than ever before, pushing against the opening of your cervix and erupting dragon seeds, spinning and knotting.

After this mating, Dan Feng learned of your true identity and intentions. He knew he had to give you some punishment, and that included more mating…

Dan Feng took care of the scum who sent you to assassinate him, and paid off your debts and medical bills.

A few months later, Dan Feng is holding your shoulders as you sit on the water bed with a baby dragon in your arms.

#yandere dan feng x female reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

[shxtodxroki]

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝙸𝚜...

Warnings: Swearing

Dating Satoru Gojo is butterfly kisses all the time. He first heard of the concept online somewhere, immediately rushing over to you like an eager little puppy to try it out, and now he’s constantly giggling as he softly flutters his eyelashes against your skin, adoring this newfound, gentle form of affection he can share with you.

Dating Satoru Gojo is multiple mistletoe hidden in every room of your house when December rolls around if you celebrate Christmas or want to partake in the tradition, since he just can’t resist taking the chance to surprise you with a quick kiss whenever the opportunity presents itself

Dating Satoru Gojo is bringing home a small sweet treat for him whenever you go out, because you just can’t resist the way his face lights up when you treat him to yet another candy bar or sugary pastry, and him repaying you by always spoiling you and buying you whatever you set your sights on when the two of you go out together without you even having to ask

Dating Satoru Gojo is him shoving his gross, sweaty feet into your face when you’re unsuspectingly trying to relax on the couch on your day off, and cackling as you shove him off the couch and lecture his (endearingly) annoying ass once he’s fallen to the floor wheezing

Dating Satoru Gojo is his large frame curling into a minuscule ball as he rests in your lap on his bad days. It’s hard for him to talk about his fears, his sadness, his stress and his guilt, even with you, but he still seeks comfort in your touch. He relishes in the fact that he can just be sad or be stressed, and you’ll be there to run your gentle fingers through his hair and press sweet kisses to his face to soothe him

Dating Satoru Gojo is never hearing your real name from his lips. Not once, even during arguments. Sweets, honey, baby and especially babe are constants in his vocabulary, even the occasional pookie or sugar when he feels like messing with you, but never your name. Pet names are your boyfriend’s pride and joy in this relationship

Dating Satoru Gojo is him going all-out for every birthday, every anniversary, every special day. He hates the fact that his job takes up so much of his time, despises that he can’t spend every waking second with you and constantly show you the love he knows you deserve, so he tries to make up for it as best as he can on special occasions. He never, ever forgets, filling the whole day with plans catered to what he knows you’ll want to do most, and surprises you with gifts he knows you’ve had your eye on while showing off just how much attention he pays to your wants and needs

Dating Satoru Gojo is him replacing the sugar with salt if you drink morning tea/coffee, then giggling like a madman as you chase him around the house in a grumpy, sleep-deprived state. Don’t worry, he makes it up with a replacement cup of coffee/tea, homemade breakfast and plenty of cuddles afterwards

Dating Satoru Gojo is clothes being left everywhere around your apartment. For some reason Satoru can not seem to manage to get them into the dirty laundry hamper most of the time no matter how hard he tries to remember, especially considering he comes home dead tired and incredibly sore from work a lot of the time and just tosses his clothes anywhere he can as he climbs into bed with you and passes out. He’ll always pick them up and place them properly in the hamper when you ask him to, coupled with an apology, though, and any time you put his clothes away for him he’s sure to notice and thank you for your kindness and understanding

Dating Satoru Gojo is needing a fan in the bedroom as you sleep during the warmer months, because his body just runs so hot it’s like he’s a furnace but he can’t sleep without cuddling you :’( He needs to know you’re there, that you’re safe and that he can protect you even in his sleep, so you find compromise in keeping a fan running on your side of the bed to keep you from overheating as you cuddle with your human heater during the evening hours

And dating Satoru Gojo is, most of all, loving him with your full heart and soul, your entire being. It’s knowing how little love he’s felt through his life, how desperately he craves it without him even saying a word, and doing everything in your power to fill that void, to let your love seep into every crack and crevice of his body and soul as you embrace and adore him as your soulmate, your one and only <3

A/N: Idk where this came from lol I literally just had the thought about the butterfly kisses randomly the other day and thought it was too cute, and then that spiraled into this </3 I love Gojo sm I just want to write about him all the time but I’ve mainly been focused on trying to get caught up with Flufftober amidst the 30,000 projects that have all been/are due in school over these few weeks :’) I hope you guys enjoyed this though, and my requests are currently open so if you have any requests feel free to send them my way!

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

#{✏️} - bee's writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo headcanons #gojo hcs #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo headcanons #satoru gojo hcs #satoru gojo fluff

[mellowsaturns]

at the end of the day

summary: after another failed date, you run into bucky barnes on the way home and the two of you get caught in the rain

warnings: fluff, dancing in the rain, talks about love, romcom vibes i hope, pining bucky

wc: 1.7k

a/n: inspired by the talk @jadedvibes and i had a while ago heheh. men suck sometimes but we gotta put our trust in rom-communism and that everything will work out at the end :)

How many horrible dates will you go on to realize that you're never going to have your happy ending? 

The thought plagued you as you walked down the street. You were going to give up on love completely this time, you promised yourself.

You were deep in thought when a soft voice interrupted your pitiful reverie. 

“Oh?” you said, eyes widening in surprise. “Bucky, what are you doing here?”

A light chuckle filled the air between the two of you before he spoke. “I live in this neighbourhood, doll.” 

You mentally smacked yourself on the forehead. “Oh, right. I forgot.” 

His mouth curved into an amused grin before he took a good look at you. “What are you doing here?” he asked, but he had a feeling he already knew the answer. 

You looked down at your outfit, one so different from the usual attire you have on at the Tower. “Isn’t it kinda obvious?” you teased, though your voice’s laced with defeat. “I was on a date.” 

He hummed, “And how’d it go?” 

“Let’s just say there isn’t going to be a second one,” you answered, finishing off with a sigh.

Bucky winced. “M’sorry it didn’t go well.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you said, “It… it happens a lot, I’m used to it.” 

His brow creased in confusion. “Used to what?”

Did you really have to lay out your shitty love life in front of Bucky Barnes? 

You twiddled your thumb nervously. “Going on bad dates,” you stated, “Never finding anything meaningful from them. Always going home with the feeling of disappointment. You know, the usual.” 

Bucky frowned. He never realized you had problems with the whole… dating thing. At least you didn’t look like it whenever he saw you around the Tower. You were a joy to be around—always surrounded by people. How could you possibly have problems with dating? Half the department was already in love with you. (Not that Bucky was keeping records on names or anything. Maybe a little.) If you had problems with love, then what about someone like him? 

Now that you voiced your problem out loud, you felt a bit better. It’s not that you couldn’t find someone—there’s plenty of someones out there—but none of them made you feel special or seen. That spark you were always looking for seemed to be nonexistent.

Maybe the problem was that you were too picky, your standard was too high—too unrealistic.

Or maybe you were the thing you feared the most.

“Sometimes, I feel like there’s something wrong with me,” you confessed. “No, there must be something wrong with me. Maybe the stuff you see in movies does happen, just not to me because no one wants to put in that effort with me. Maybe, I’m unlovable.”

You never thought you would be confessing all this to him. 

Bucky took a minute to digest your words before speaking again. “Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Looking into his eyes, you wondered if he truly meant it, or if he’s just being kind like he always was. And as if he could read your mind, “I mean it,” he added, reassuring you. 

“Then why…” 

“These people you go on dates with,” he jumped in, “They don’t even realize how lucky they are. You’re amazing,” he said, a gentle smile spreading across his face, “And if they don’t see that or don’t make you feel like you’re on top of the world, then I guess they weren’t that great to begin with. They don’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.” 

You were speechless. Bucky and you weren’t strangers but calling him a friend seemed a bit too… intimate. You don’t even have his number for Christ’s sake. The two of you were just two people who worked in the same building and saw each other frequently and talked here and there. But why did his words mean more to you than any pep-talk your friends gave you? 

“I-l—” you stuttered, “I don’t know what to say. I’m honoured that you think so highly of me.”

If you only knew what Bucky thought of you. He doesn’t really know when it happened, this growing feeling inside of him, but seeing you had become his favourite part of the job. He always tried to spark up small talk (much to everyone’s surprise) but the both of you were busy, always getting whisked away mid-conversation.

Today was the first time he saw you outside of work, in his neighbourhood nonetheless. Perhaps this was his chance—finally some alone time with you. He felt like there were a million things to say, but of course, it came out wrong, as it always does. “I always think about you.” When you raised an eyebrow at him, he corrected himself, “I-I mean I always think highly of you,” he corrected, a tinge of pink evident on his cheek. 

A small chuckle escaped from you, and you had to look down bashfully, trying your best to hide your flusteredness. I always think about you.

You wondered why you never paid more attention to the Avenger who always had business in your department. 

“That’s really sweet of you to say. If I’m being honest, I was genuinely ready to give up on love tonight,” you said with a small laugh.

Bucky swallowed. “Loo—” Before he could finish his sentence, something wet landed on top of his forehead. Then another one. And another one. It had started to rain. He could have sworn that wasn’t the predicted forecast tonight.

The two of you looked up, letting the steady gentle rain hit the surfaces of your skin. It was probably a good idea to find shelter, maybe stand underneath a roof for the time being until the unexpected summer rain went away.

But the two of you just stood there, completely still, looking ridiculous to onlookers. And then you bursted into a fit of laughter. “Sorry, it’s just… I always imagined what it would be like to be stuck in a storm.” 

He grinned. “And how is it?” he yelled through the pitter-patter. 

“Hmm. Not as romantic as I thought it’ll be,” you noted amusingly.

Bucky met your eyes for a moment, then swallowed a breath. “Dance with me?” he asked, extending a hand towards you. 

You raised a brow, heart skipping a beat at his words. You would be lying if you said the hopeless romantic in you never imagined yourself in this position multiple times. You just never thought it would be with Bucky Barnes.

Taking his hand, he led you with small slow steps. 

“You must’ve done this a lot back in your days,” you teased playfully.

Connecting his eyes with yours, he confessed, “This is the first time I’ve danced with someone in the rain.”

Bringing you in and out, and then lifting your arm to twirl you around while the water rippled beneath your feet, it felt like you were suddenly transported elsewhere. Like a movie you had seen on screen that had you swooning. Or a novel you had read late into the night with a gigantic smile on your face. You almost expected some low jazz to start playing soon. But even if it didn’t, it would’ve been fine, because you had the soft glow of moonlight peeking out from behind the clouds, the summer rain, and Bucky with you. It was already enough to set the scene. 

He looked particularly boyish tonight with his hair sticking to his forehead. You had the urge to sweep the strands away.

You let out a small yelp when Bucky dipped you down before pulling you back up so you were pressed into his chest. You were glad the sound of raindrops masked your beating heart. 

He was a bit rusty, he knew that. It has been over seventy-years since he danced with someone. He couldn’t believe how you would think no one wanted to put in the effort with you. He would dance with you in the rain all the time if that’s what you wanted. Would probably do anything you asked of him, if he was being honest.

You’re not a very good dancer, you had to admit. But Bucky was leading you through the whole thing, even smiling down at you when you accidentally stepped on his foot. 

You wondered how many people this beautiful and charming being of a man had swept off their feet before. Hopefully, he still had space in his heart for you. Because you were completely wooed.

As the rain slowed down and sky started to clear ever so slightly, you realized that the spark you were always complaining about not feeling—it was here, in this very moment, ignited from the touches between the two of you. It was there the moment you took his hand. Giving him another sneaky glance, your eyes lit up like a thousand stars.

Maybe the right person was in front of you all along. 

Bucky doesn’t know how long the two of you stood there in the aftermath, looking into each other's eyes. It’s the brightest thing in the city, he thought.

Moments later, you removed yourself from him. “Well, the rain stopped.” 

“It certainly did,” he said, sounding faintly amused. 

“I guess I should get going,” you said, though you were still lingering around.

Bucky, who was soaked to the bones, asked, “Should I take you home?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay. My place is only a few stations from here. Thank you for offering though.” Maybe next time.

Before you completely escaped from his vision, he shouted your name, causing you to pause in your steps and look over your shoulder. “I hope you’re not giving up on love.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to fight back a smile.

How could you?

Bucky Barnes gave you a million reasons to believe in love again. 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot

[somerandomdudelmao]

It's Cass appreciation time!!! Don't get me wrong, I think we all appreciate you exactly all the time, but I wanted to write it out because I'm filled with SO MUCH LOVE RIGHT NOW THAT I PHYSICALLY CAN'T CONTAIN IT.

So!

First and foremost, I think you're a wonderful person. I may not know you personally, but the way in which you go about things - not just in your comic, but the way you interact with people - just leaves me in awe. You're so gentle but in the most chaotic way possible, and it makes me so happy to be alive. You're supportive of people and the things they create, while also just... spreading the joys of not just the fandom, but so many other things too. You're one of the people on here that unites the fandom as a whole, and it's so inspiring! You bring so much love here, and I admire that about you.

Another thing that I admire is that you know what your limits are and that you take care of yourself. I see so many people these days who don't - some who just forget, some who don't realize they're doing it, and others who blatantly refuse to do so - and it's frustrating to see. I want to help them (aka: wrap them in a blanket burrito to protect them from the world, offer coping skills, give them the support they need- the list goes on), but I can't really do much of that without burning myself out. Which is why I love to see you take care of yourself - whenever I see those asks that are like "reminder to drink water / rest / take a break", it reminds me that I need to do it too, and I'm positive that it reminds others as well. That, and it's refreshing to see!

I also love how creative and spontaneous you are! The plots you come up with, as well as the characterization and overall flow of the story - not to mention the PERFECT amount of fluff and angst you give us (WITH THE PROMISE OF A HAPPY ENDING??? OH MY GOD)- leaves me floored every time! I don't know a whole lot about writing and portraying things, but I've learned a bunch just by what you do. LETS ALSO REMEMBER ALL THE SMALL DETAILS YOU PUT INTO THIS - THE PARALLELS, THE LITTLE SHOWS OF AFFECTION,AND JUST- EVERYTHING??? GHDBDKDBSJ

AHH!

You inspire me to create, and whenever I have the confidence to post what I'm working on, I'll be sure to tag you (bc all of it is related to your comic)!

I have so much to say, but not nearly enough words to fully express it! But this is also getting much longer than I thought it would, and as much as I want to sing you praises all day, there's not enough time. So to wrap this up:

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for all that you do. I'm sure it's not easy - you're a whole person outside of this, and everyone has bad days - so, again, thank you. I may not know you personally, but I still care a great deal about you. Please keep taking care of yourself! Drink some water, have a snack, take a nap, make some time for yourself - whatever it is, have a fantastic time hon. You deserve it.

Keep being amazing, and I wish you the best!

Until next time, dearie ^-^

Oh god I don't even know what to say jcdtujdsukcdhb thank you yhank you thank you so much you just brightened my day I

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Please, TF 141 + Konig with a s/o who is very affectionate and caring. Like she likes to kiss them all over their face, pamper them all the time, make sure they eat good and healthy and constantly remind them that they are appreciated and loved.

𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚢

I absolutely love this idea😭😭😭 This is gonna be my favorite art because I love these kind of fanfics and this is so me fr. My mans are traumatized asf and I‘m just gonna sit there, hold them and take care of them 🤭 Anyways I hope you enjoy! Love you 🩷🩷🫶🏻🫶🏻

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

König

Königs body was weary and his mind filled with the echoes of gunfire. But as he stepped through the door of your shared house, he felt a rush of warmth and love envelop him. You greeted him with open arms.

"Babyyyyy" you whispered, your voice filled with tenderness, "Welcome home, my love." Your eyes sparkled with adoration as you leaned in and showered König's face with gentle kisses, your affection pouring out in every touch.

The weight of the world lifted from König's shoulders as he felt your love embrace him. The battles he fought seemed distant, replaced by the warmth of your presence. Your caring nature knew no bounds, as you pampered him with tender care, ensuring he had everything he needed to recover and regain his strength.

Every day, you prepared delicious meals, meticulously crafting dishes that would touch his body and soul. König's heart swelled with emotion as he saw the spread you had prepared for him. Tears welled up in his eyes, a mix of gratitude and overwhelming love.

With a choked voice, König embraced you tightly, holding onto you as if he never wanted to let go. The tears flowed freely down his weathered face, releasing the weight of the battles he had fought. In your arms, he found solace, a safe haven where vulnerability was allowed.

"Mein Schatz" König murmured, his voice filled with a mix of appreciation and awe, "I can't begin to express how much this means to me. Your love, your care, it's more than I ever expected or believed I deserved. Thank you. Ich liebe dich über alles. Danke, dass es dich gibt."

You felt your heart melt at his words and even through you didn’t know what the last sentence meant, your soul knew what he meant.

Your arms wrapped around him, providing comfort and reassurance. "König, you are so much more than a soldier. You are a person deserving of love and tenderness. I see the strength within you, but I also see the vulnerability. Let me be the one to remind you of your worth, to show you that you are appreciated and loved."

Your affection and care had become his refuge, a sanctuary from the chaos of the battlefield. The bond you shared grew stronger with every passing day, built on a foundation of unwavering support and genuine affection.

And as König's heart swelled with gratitude, he vowed to protect and cherish the love you had given him just as fiercely as he fought for his country. In your embrace, he found a home, a place where he was truly seen and loved.

Simon Riley

Simon is a stoic and battle-hardened soldier who found himself in a whirlwind of emotions ever since you entered his life. As a soldier, he was accustomed to facing danger head-on, but your affectionate and caring nature opened up a world of tenderness he never thought possible.

You and your boundless love and affection showered Simon with kisses all over his face, your lips leaving a trail of warmth and adoration. Each touch and caress reminded him that he was cherished, appreciated, and deeply loved.

You made it your mission to pamper Simon, ensuring he took care of himself both physically and emotionally. You cooked delicious and nutritious meals, placing them before him with a gentle smile, knowing that proper nourishment was essential for his well-being. You watched as he ate, your eyes filled with pride and joy, knowing that he was taking care of himself even in the midst of chaos.

But it was not just the physical care that touched Simon's heart. You constantly reminded him of his worth, whispering words of affirmation and love into his ear. You saw the depths of his soul, the scars he carried and yet you loved him unconditionally. Your voice became the balm to his wounds, mending the broken pieces of his heart with each tender word spoken.

One evening, as you held Simon in your arms, a moment of overwhelming emotion washed over him. Tears welled up in his eyes, streaming down his face, as the weight of his past and the beauty of your love collided within him.

"I've never felt so happy," Simon whispered through his tears, his voice filled with awe and vulnerability. "I never thought I could experience this kind of love, this kind of happiness. It's overwhelming."

You tightened your embrace, holding him close as you kissed the top of his head and whispered sweet reassurances. "You deserve all the love in the world, Simon. You are strong, courageous, and deserving of every kind of happiness that comes your way. I'm here for you, always."

Simon buried his face in the crook of your neck, his tears mingling with the warmth of your embrace. In that moment, he realized that vulnerability was not a weakness but a strength. Opening his heart to you had allowed him to experience a love so profound that it moved him to tears.

In the safety of your arms, Simon found solace. You had given him a sanctuary in a world of chaos and uncertainty. With every touch, every kiss, and every word, you reminded him that love could heal even the deepest of wounds.

“I love you Simon. I‘m proud of how far you’ve come. I will forever love you“ after this sentence Simon continued to cry and you just sat there with him and held him like your life was depending on it.

And as you held Simon, his tears slowly subsided, replaced by a sense of profound peace and contentment. He realized that with you by his side, he could face anything that came his way.

John MacTavish

As the evening sun bathed the room in a warm, golden glow, you found yourself standing in front of John, your heart brimming with affection and adoration. John had always been the strong man but you knew that deep down that he needed to feel loved and appreciated just like anyone else.

With a gentle smile playing on your lips you moved closer to him, cupping his face in your hands. Your fingers traced the lines of his rugged features, your touch conveying a depth of emotion that words could never fully capture. His piercing blue eyes met yours, a mixture of surprise and warmth dancing within them.

"Hi John!" you greeted him with an excited tone "I want you to know that you're loved, John. Every part of you. From your hardened soul to the tenderness you so often hide. You mean the world to me."

The corners of John's mouth twitched with a hint of a smile, his usually guarded exterior slowly melting away under your affectionate gaze. His arms enveloped you in a tight embrace as if he couldn't bear to let go.

"I don't deserve you, baby" he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. "You've shown me a love I never thought I could have. And here I am, currently living in that dream"

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering against his skin. "John, you deserve the love. You're human, just like everyone else. And love doesn't discriminate based on perceived flaws. I see the strength and resilience within you, but I also see the gentleness and vulnerability. It's all a part of who you are, and I love every single piece."

Tears welled up in John's eyes, and he held you even closer, as if he wanted to merge his being with yours. "I don't know how I got so lucky to have you in my life. You make me want to be a better person. Thank you for loving me." You let got of him and go and get the flowers you bought him and show it to him. He smiles at you and he looks like a lost puppy. As you placed the flowers into John's hands, his grip tightened, his touch tender and grateful.

He brought your lips to his, a fervent kiss that spoke volumes of the love he held for you. With each caress, each whispered declaration, he poured his heart out, reminding you just how deeply you had touched his soul.

Kyle Garrick

You couldn't resist showering Kyle with affection, your gentle touch caressing his face as you attacked it with kisses. Each kiss served as a reminder of the love that blossomed between you, a love that grew stronger with each passing day.

In your care, Kyle found comfort. Your attention to detail knew no bounds as you crafted every dish with love, understanding that good food was not only essential for his physical well-being but also a way to show how deeply you cared.

"Have you eaten baby?" you asked him and he looked at you with a sad smile. "No" he replied and without asking any further questions you made your way to the kitchen and started preparing something for him. You felt happy. You were happy because you’re taking care of the boy that doesn’t have anyone but you that reminds him that he is loved. In the moments when darkness threatened to consume his soul… you were there, a steady presence that offered comfort and support. With a touch of tenderness, you wiped away his tears and held him close, whispering words of solace and encouragement. You reminded him that vulnerability was not weakness, but a testament to his strength and resilience.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him standing there and looking at you with nothing but love written in his face. He slowly moved closer to you and watched you cook pasta for him and move to prepare the salat to eat next to the pasta.

Kyle is a man of few words who struggled to articulate the depth of his emotions. He suddenly took your face in his hands, making you drop the spatula and his gaze reflecting the love that radiated from within. And in that timeless instant, he closed the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that conveyed a thousand unspoken words.

In that kiss, all the emotions that had swelled within him poured forth. Gratitude, love, and a sense of profound connection intertwined, leaving no doubt that you were his anchor in this chaotic world.

John Price

You entered John’s life and a different side of him began to emerge. You had a way of softening his rough edges, reminding him of the warmth and tenderness that still existed within him. And John secretly loved everything you were doing. He was watching you close as you were cooking dinner or looking at the flowers you got from the mall.

And every chance you got you would kiss John with love and affection. Your gentle kisses dotted his face, a sweet gesture that never failed to bring a smile to his lips. He always makes an annoyed face but you both knew that he was enjoying it. Whenever you were sitting next to him he was secretly wishing you would attack him with your kisses.

The emotions between you and John ran deep. In his eyes, you were the light around the darkness that often consumed his world. Your unwavering care and devotion touched his heart, melting away the walls he had built around himself.

On one particularly intense day, as the weight of his missions bore down on him, John found comfort in your presence. You could see the weariness etched across his face, the burden he carried threatening to crush him. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close.

"You are incredible, John. I want you to know how appreciated you are, how much you mean to me and everyone around you. You're a beacon of strength, but you're also human. It's okay to lean on others, to let yourself be cared for."

John's eyes met yours, gratitude and emotion shining within them. "I don't deserve you," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and tenderness.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, your love and adoration pouring forth in that simple touch. "John, deserving has nothing to do with it. Love isn't earned, it's given freely. And I choose to love you every day with every part of my being."

In that moment, the weight on John's shoulders lifted ever so slightly, replaced by the warmth of your affection and the understanding that he was not alone. And as the intensity of emotions swelled within him, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate and tender kiss.

It was a moment of connection, a testament to the love that had blossomed between you. In each other's arms, you found solace, strength, and a deep sense of belonging. The world around you faded away as you embraced the power of love and vulnerability.

#call of duty könig #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john price #john mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #captain john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #call of duty kyle #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #john price cod #cod mwii #cod mw ghost #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw gaz #call of duty soap #simon riley #kyle gaz garrick x you #john price x y/n #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty john price

[hells-wasabii]

A/N: hey guys, I wanted to apologize for the lack of content first and foremost, my head has been a total asshole which makes it a little hard to write sometimes. So here’s a little something I wrote on a whim in an effort to get some feelings out. You're more than welcome to continue on to my other works that'll hopefully come out today. sorry for any mistakes, I didn't really feel like proofreading.

Character: Emily

Type: One Shot (Emily x depressed!reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Inhale. Exhale.

It was a simple exercise that you had been tought in life when the clouds in your head began to thunder.

All you wanted was to calm the voices in your mind. You closed your eyes, letting the calming air of heaven fill your lungs. But it wasn’t enough. It never was, was it?

Maybe you were foolish to have thought that things would get better once you made it to heaven. Now, several years down the line you weren’t so sure that was the case anymore.

You were brought back to the reality around you when the bench on which you sat shook as the other occupant shifted. She had been talking quite animately about something that you had unintentionally began to tune out, lost in your thoughts. Something about an upcoming meeting with the daughter of the morningstar, whatever that meant. You were sure that she had explained 

God, how had you managed to keep the conversation going with your bullshitted half-answers?

You didn’t deserve her. 

You didn’t deserve any of this.

This was the most constant line from the little devil on your shoulder, repeating itself time and time again.

Emily was like a star that burned bright in a sea of darkness. A literal angel with a smile that shone just as bright as the sun. She was a Seraphim, a Joy Bringer at that. And you were... you.

You weren’t entirely sure how, but she had found you again. Though you supposed it wasn’t too hard to find sitting on some random bench in the middle of one of the numerous parks in heaven.

A hand on your arm pulls you out of your thoughts. Her touch felt light the sunlight on a cool autumn day, soothing, warm. More than you deserved.

“Hey, are you okay?”

No. Not at all, you wanted to say. But instead, you let your mask fall back into place, a small smile taking to your lips.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

You didn’t want to lie, but what else could you say?

The Joy Bringer seemed to accept this, as she turned her attention to a group of angels chatting at a picnic nearby. You watched them as well, welcoming the distraction

“Y’know,” Once more you glanced over to the usually beaming angel. You were greeted by a sad smile that made your stomach churn. “You don’t always have to lie.”

How-

Had you really been that obvious? How could you have let yourself be so stupid?

“I’m not completely naive.” Emily reminded, finally looking back at you. You knew she meant nothing by it, but even still you shrunk into yourself. Of course, she knew. It seemed you had been the naive one 

"I just don’t get it.” You admitted, shoulders saggingas you finally looked back at her. Ever constant, the seraphim offered you a gentle smile, reassuring. It nearly broke your heart, you’re voice wavering as you continued on. “Why do you care so much? Why do you always go out of your way to come find me?" 

And, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, the young seraphim answered. "Because I love you." And just like that, your vision began to blur.

You hadn’t even realized your unshed tears had spilled over onto your cheeks, not until the joy bringer gingerly brushed them away with a steady d hand. Unconsciously you leaned into the touch before a sudden sob wracked your shoulders, warmth radiating from her hand. It felt as if a dam within you had been opened and suddenly, you were weeping. 

Emily was quick to react, wrapping you in a hug. Clutching to the back of the angel’s dress you felt as if a dam within you had begun to crumble. 

The seraphim's voice came out as a whisper as her wings settled around you. "It's okay, I'm here for you."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel x reader #emily x reader #emily hazbin hotel

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER TEN: Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don’t

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt thinks back to your date that afternoon, and Foggy and Karen can't help but tease him about you. When a stranger comes to the office with the promise of money and a case, Matt gets suspicious. Later that night, when he can't stand it anymore, he calls you for comfort and answers.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, Matt's self-deprecating thoughts, hurt/comfort, flirting, slight fluff, suggestive themes

Word Count: 4.7k

A/n: I'm so sorry that this took so long! The past few days have been so busy, and then I forgot I promised to post this on Friday. But you're getting it now!

Read Chapter 10: Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don’t here on AO3

Matt can’t stop smiling. 

You smell of nature and yourself. He doesn’t pay much attention to the layers of artificial scents most products contain because to him, your natural scent is all that matters, and he knows how to tune out everything else that isn’t one-hundred percent yours. It is a fact you are so blissfully unaware of. How could you know? You have no idea just how heightened his senses are. To him, your scent is as distinctive as your heartbeat. It’s stuck to the tiny hairs in his nose; every time he takes a deep breath, he can smell you. 

From the moment you stepped off the bus that afternoon, he could smell the salt on your skin, the antibacterial soap you use, and the particularly sensitive body lotion that makes your skin soft to the touch. You slathered your hands with an excessive amount of moisturizer, but it was in no way obnoxious. Matt enjoyed how the earthy tones suited you compared to the medicinal moisturizer you wear at the hospital. He enjoyed it so much, in fact, that he now can’t stop thinking about it. Even with cracked knuckles, your hands are the most delicate. 

He should have kissed you. The way your heartbeat was speeding up when you bid your goodbyes told him that you would have wanted him to, but he was afraid of crossing that line. He isn’t playing a fair game, after all. You only know half of him. Anything beyond the stoic lawyer he presents on the outside could put you in danger, and he is afraid of losing you. God knows what would happen if he allowed you any closer. 

Matt is drawn to you. He doesn’t want to be, but he can’t help the way he feels whenever he is around you. You offer a reprieve from the chaos that surrounds him. The world grows quiet for a moment when you’re around, and he finally has something beautiful to focus on.

The world isn’t beautiful. It’s ugly and vile, and most human beings make his experience excruciatingly painful.  You take away the agony and instead replace it with a sense of giddiness that fills him with a gentle warmth. You consume him. As much as he wants to, and as much as he knows he should, he can’t stay away from you.

Foggy told him that he deserves to be happy; he has yet to realize that. Every time he tries to allow himself to feel joy, the fire in his heart moves into the shadow of a mountain of guilt, and it threatens to run out of oxygen.

You are a lot more reserved than he first expected, and when you told him the truth about your childhood, it broke him. It broke him to hear how much pain you are in. You were radiating waves of trauma, and they hit him all at once. He may relate to you, in a way, but still, he can’t fathom how bad it must have been, growing up with no one to take care of you while you had to take care of everyone else.

Something Matt is grappling with is the fact that your heartbeat was so erratic at times he feared it might break your ribs. He wasn’t misinterpreting the signs. He couldn’t have. And you weren’t lying, he is sure of that. Perhaps you were keeping something from him. If that’s the case, what does that mean for the two of you? He can’t expect you to trust him—he has no right to expect anything from anyone, especially not from someone he barely knows—but he has learned that when someone tries to hide the truth, it is worse than an unpopular opinion he might disagree on. 

He wants to hold your hand again. He wants to be close to you. He wants to smell your skin, feel it under his calloused fingertips, and he wants to hear the sweet sound of your voice serenading him. If he could hold you, just for a minute, he’s sure his problems will fade away. The world will go quiet, and he can focus on you. The urge to keep you safe consumes him, but he doesn’t know what he wants to protect you from. 

Matt only knows that he wants you, all of you, and it kills him that he can’t have you. To know all of you, he has to share all of him with you, and he would much rather crucify himself than drag you down with him. 

As his thoughts turn dark, his smile fades. He was foolish to believe that the warmth of the sun wouldn’t be overshadowed by black clouds waiting to rain hell down on him. And Matt begins to wonder once again, if he deserves to be happy, why did God put the devil in him?

“Dude, you’re whipped!” Foggy says from the doorway to Matt’s office, leaning against it with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

Matt raises his eyebrows. He wasn’t paying attention. When he walked in with a big grin on his face an hour ago, Foggy cheekily asked him how lunch was, and Matt only replied with, “Satisfying.” 

He wants to keep you to himself. You shouldn’t become subject to his friend’s desperate need to find Matt’s one true love. Foggy doesn’t know you. It was one date that might not even go anywhere, not if Matt keeps sabotaging himself. You deserve better. He knows that. You deserve someone who treats you like the goddess you are; someone who doesn’t lie to you and can give you what you need. He isn’t sure if he can be that person. The last thing he wants is to hurt you. 

“Sorry?” Matt tilts his head away from the window. The city is particularly loud this afternoon. 

“Your doctor friend,” Foggy clarifies. “Your lunch date.” The grin in his voice is audible. A teasing grin. “She’s got you whipped.”

“Oh, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His fingers start sliding over the documents in front of him, a breathless chuckle passing from his lips. 

He cocks an eyebrow. “Mhm. Is that why you’re blushing?”

“I don’t blush,” Matt counters. Though he can’t deny that the blood rushes to his cheeks whenever he thinks of you. The way you smell. The way your heartbeat sounds in his ears. It is addictive. You are addictive—a drug—and that makes the guilt grow larger than life because as bad as he is for you, he knows staying away from you is a losing game. 

“Sure,” says Foggy. He doesn’t believe him, not one bit. “Do I need to dust off the old tux? You know, I’d make a dashing best man.”

Matt forces a chuckle. “It was just coffee.”

“It always starts with just coffee. Before you know it, you’re having dinner, and then you’re taking her to bed before asking her to marry you.”

He throws his head back, groaning in pure exasperation. The chair creaks. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he says. “We had coffee, she walked me back to the office, and that’s it. No time for a tux yet. If you really wanna wear it, attend a ball or something.”

“Okay, first of all, she walked you back to the office?!” Foggy opens his arms. “That’s not a small thing, Matt. Only someone who wants to spend time with you walks you back to the office on her day off.”

Matt rolls his eyes behind his glasses. He would much rather continue marinating in his self-misery than fantasize about things that may not ever happen. It hurts too much. What he wants and what he believes he can have are at war.

“And second of all, Foggy says, “we’re living in the twenty-first century; balls are not a regular occurrence anymore, and I don’t have friends in higher places that could get me into one.”

Sensing an opportunity, Matt’s lips curl into a smirk. “You could ask Marci. Landman & Zack sometimes attend banquets, you know that.”

Foggy seems taken aback for a second. His heartbeat stutters. “Why Marci?” the panic in his voice is hilarious, in a way. 

“Oh, so you can tease me about my relationships,” Matt retorts, “but I can’t tease you about your ex?”

“That’s different, okay?”

“Oh, how’s that different?”

“Your potential future girlfriend and my ex who is working for the same million-dollar law firm we left behind to chase the dream of independence are two different things that do not correlate!”

He’s speechless. Matt repeats his friend’s words in his mind a few times before he admits, “Yeah, no, I can’t… I can’t argue with that.”

Foggy sighs. “Thank you.”

The door to the bathroom closes, and Karen returns to her desk. Her heels click against the linoleum floors in a steady rhythm. Her steps are always light and careful. Matt could recognize them anywhere. 

“Hey–” he tips his chin at the sound of Foggy’s voice again. “If things work out between you and Miss McDreamy, you won’t need a dog anymore because she can help you take out the trash.”

Karen catches that, and she laughs. “Are you comparing Matt’s girlfriend to a dog now?” she quips. 

Matt is quick to cut in. “She’s not my girlfriend!” he says. 

She appears in the doorway next to Foggy, placing her hands on her hips as she stands there. “Really? I thought people skipped first base and went straight to getting shared tombstones after the first date these days.”

Foggy’s laugh resembles a howl. “Can you imagine Matt sharing a tombstone with someone who holds a doctorate? People would be talking about them like, here lies Hell’s Kitchen’s greatest trauma surgeon…and Matt Murdock.”

Her fist collides with his shoulder, but she can’t stop herself from laughing regardless. Matt sighs. “Very funny,” he deadpans. It’s not that he can’t take a joke; he’s simply not in the mood for it right now. 

The letters blur under his fingers. His jaw clenches when a car backfires somewhere down the block, and someone else honks four times in a row before yelling at a passerby to get out of his way. 

“Seriously,” Foggy asks, “What do you have against dogs?”

“I think dogs are great,” says Karen.

“I don’t need a dog,” Matt states. He tries to regulate his breathing, tearing his focus away from the noise that surrounds him. “And I don’t need anyone to help me take out the trash. Not a dog and certainly not a girlfriend.” He chuckles forcedly at the last part. 

Imagining you helping him do the things that are supposed to be easy makes him recoil. Even with heightened senses, he is still blind. Taking out the trash is harder than it should be when he doesn’t focus, and even then he could easily miss a step. It has happened a few times before, but he would never admit it. 

He can use his clumsiness as an excuse for the cuts, bumps, and bruises he suffers every night on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen at the hands of criminals, but if he were to take a tumble down or up the stairs again, he would have to find a different excuse. There is nothing bad about needing help—about just not being able to do certain things—but Matt has never been good at accepting help, let alone asking for it. 

A knock on the door interrupts the conversation. Matt raises his eyebrows. Foggy and Karen exchange a look of surprise. 

The heartbeat belongs to a healthy male, but he doesn’t recognize the presence standing in front of their office door. Could it be…a client? The thought never even crossed their minds. 

“Is that—” Foggy leaves the question hanging in the air. 

Matt rises from his chair, pursing his lips as he nods. “Karen?” he asks. 

She realizes that he is asking her to open the door, and her heart skips a beat. “Right,” she stammers. “Okay.”

He follows the two of them out of his office, his hands guiding him along the familiar space. The door clicks as it opens, and Karen nervously greets the stranger on the other side. 

“Hi,” the voice says, deep with a hint of mischief he hides under the disguise of kindness. 

The hairs on Matt’s arm stand up, reaching toward the sky. His stomach drops. Something shifts in the air when he smells the expensive cologne and the laundry detergent on the man’s suit. He carries himself with a kind of confidence that puts everyone around him in his shadow, and that is terrifying. 

Matt instantly knows that they should not trust him. 

The man passes the threshold and steps into their office, his eyes trailing around. Karen takes a step back. Foggy straightens his shoulders. He must look as intimidating as he sounds and smells. A rich man who radiates power like a bonfire. 

“Do you take walk-ins?” he asks then. 

Matt can feel Foggy’s eyes on him. He shrugs, his reaction barely visible. If he said no, he wouldn’t know how to explain it to them. 

In hindsight, they should have kept the door closed. 

He doesn’t tell them his name, he only hands them a check and tells them that he works for an independent contractor. Judging by Foggy’s reaction, the numbers on the check are higher than any of them are used to. But all of this money for a surprise at the police station? 

If he hadn’t found him suspicious before, the alarms are certainly blaring now. Foggy is blinded by the money, and Karen seems torn, but Matt knows that they shouldn’t trust this man. Especially not for blood money.

He follows him out, only enough space between them so he won’t be caught. The stranger gets into a car, and he starts to realize that this man might be caught up in more than he thought. 

The lines between the lawyer and the devil start to blur. Matt reaches into his suit jacket. The pain in his rib cage burns slowly through his flesh as the skin parts. His shirt is drenched in a deep maroon where the Russians drilled a knife into him a few nights ago. The blood coats his fingertips, that’s how he knows. 

He has no choice. He and Foggy need to take the case they were presented with. If he wants to understand what’s happening, he needs to dive into the cold water. He needs to make a decision he despises with his whole being. It pains him physically to even think about doing it, but clearly, he has no other choice. He’s backed into a corner.

When he returns from the precinct that night with a guilty client demanding a jury trial and a check with money from a stranger he still doesn’t know the name of and that he told Karen not to deposit, the silence brings along an unbearable weight on his shoulders.

Stress can lead any addict into a relapse. The phone line rings. Matt sent Foggy and Karen home, telling them that they should rather recoup in the morning when they’re all rested. It has been a long day. His friends only hesitantly left him behind after he had to promise to call it a night soon. An hour later, he’s still sitting at his desk. The city is calling for him, but he can’t bring himself to move. Instead of going home, instead of going out, he is now looking for a fix—after telling himself all afternoon that it would be for the best if he didn’t because you deserve better. 

“This is Dr. Clarke, who am I speaking with?” you answer.

His veins open to a release of dopamine. He relaxes into his chair. He could listen to you talk forever and never grow tired of the sound of your voice.

“Hello?” you ask again. 

Matt clears his throat. “Um, hi,” he says. “It’s–it’s me. Matthew.”

“Matt! Hi. Hold on a second.” You’re not alone. Voices overlap in the background, and your clothes rustle as you try to find a quiet spot to hide. 

He runs a hand through his hair. “Am I interrupting something?” 

“No! No, not at all. I’m at the ER. Working, I mean,” you clarify, and the way you stumble over your words is so endearing to him. “MVC downtown. They needed all hands on deck, so I came in. It was a fucking mess.”

Your voice is laced with exhaustion, but you don’t sound too stressed, so he figures that the worst must be over. It’s like part of him knew to get his fix now. Not earlier or later but now. Your heartbeat is faint through the speaker. 

“I, uh, didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“You want me to hang up?” Matt asks. 

“No.” He can hear you smirk. “Just wondering if you missed me.” 

He leans forward on his elbows. “What if I did?”

Maybe if he thinks really hard, he can imagine you standing in front of him instead of miles away.

“I’d tell you I missed you too,” you murmur. “But only if you admit it first.”

“In that case, I’m saying it. I missed you,” he says.

“Good, ‘cause I missed you too.”

He fidgets with the brim of his glasses. They’re resting on his desk, his hazel eyes unfocused yet directed toward the empty space before him.

It’s a curse how enigmatic you are. You’re a magnet, similar yet the polar opposite of him, and it involuntarily draws him closer to you. Matt feels a strange flutter in his heart whenever he is near you. Even now, over the phone, the butterflies betray him. Rationally, this is a bad idea. Rationally, he should hang up. Right now though, rationality has no place in his mind.

He can’t lie; he did miss you. But that isn’t entirely the reason why he called you. 

His tired eyes flutter shut. The sound of your breathing in his ear wraps around him like a gentle embrace. “How’re you holding up?” he dares to ask.

“My feet hurt, my head hurts, and I’m starving. Other than that, I’m okay,” you say. “How’s it going with you? It’s pretty late for you to be calling, isn’t it?”

“Depends on how you look at it.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

He laughs. “Sorry.”

You seem to relish in the sound for a moment. His laughter dies down, and with it, your smile fades. “What’s really going on?” you ask. 

Matt can’t keep anything from you. You’re perceptive, even more so than him. 

“We caught a case today,” he says. “A bad one.”

“Oh.” 

He imagines that your features soften with the sound of your voice. If he could get his hands on your face, he could paint a picture of what you look like, but you’re too far away, and he shouldn’t touch something he is sure he will break if he does. 

You break through the fog, trying to rescue him from his mind. “Wanna talk about it?” you offer, but it’s useless.

“I wish I could, but I’d be breaking attorney-client confidentiality.”

“Ah, Lawyer Version HIPAA. I see.”

He pats the file he and Foggy took back with them after meeting with Healy, a clear account of the events that conspired at the bowling alley.

After going blind, his mind has grown increasingly more animate. When he thinks about what might have happened—what their client might have done—he can smell the copper of the other man’s blood in the air, the stench of sweat stuck to the inside of bowling shoes, and the substance they use to oil the bowling balls. He can smell plastic and junk food, and the linoleum of the floorboards. The way he sees it, their client is guilty, and even he knows it, but to understand what is happening around them, Matt needed to take the bait when it was presented to them. 

Matt runs a hand over the stubble on his chin. “You could answer a question for me though,” he swiftly changes the subject. 

You answer without missing a beat, “Shoot.”

“How much force would it take to crush a human skull with a bowling ball?”

His question renders you speechless. For a brief moment, he only hears the steady thudding of your heartbeat against your ribcage, and a soft smile finds its way on his lips. You’re smart, and you’re witty, but when it comes to him, you tend to lose control of the steering wheel. 

He threw a bowling ball right at the pins you meticulously sorted in your mind, dispersing them. Now, you’re grappling with the words on your tongue. 

“A bowling ball,” you repeat. “I’m sorry, what?”

You seem to shiver again when he chuckles. “I need your expert medical opinion,” Matt states. “Off the record, of course.”

“On how to crush a human skull with a bowling ball?”

“Not really the how but the kinda force it requires.”. 

“Well,” you try to gather yourself, “I didn’t exactly study the physics of smashing a human skull with a bowling ball. They don’t cover that in med school.”

“Not even physics?” he questions. 

“To a certain extent. I don’t remember that much…”

He senses a conjunction. “But?” 

“Based on bike-helmet studies, it takes between 520 to 1,100 pounds,” you tell him. “That’s roughly twice as much as human hands can muster. Add to that the weight of a bowling ball, which takes away human force but adds artificial weight in the form of a foreign object to the skull, the person doing the beating would have to hit quite a few times to actually crush it.”

“So a 5’10” man of average build–” Matt prompts.

You shrug, your scrubs brushing against the speaker of your phone. “If his testosterone and adrenaline were high enough, it could have taken him a few seconds, especially if there were no signs of hesitation, but that’s just a technical assumption. In practicality, a lot of factors play into how long it takes to break the bone.”

“Could it have been self-defense?”

“If you want my opinion, it requires a lot of strength to do that kind of damage, which means it is more likely for it to have been a premeditated crime or a very sick person in a bloodthirsty rage. But that’s not my area of expertise,” you add. 

“I know,” Matt assures you. He exhales. The answer isn’t completely useless, but it hardly solves anything either. “Thank you, anyway,” he says.

“Anything to help make sure justice is served.” You’re smiling again. 

A scoff rumbles through his chest. “I wish it were that easy.”

“You sound a bit…sad,” you point out.

“It’s—I don’t know, it’s complicated. I don’t want to be a bother.”

You cut him off, “You’re not a bother.”

“Liv,” he says, your name a mere breath rolling off his tongue.

If he told you that he’s not sad, he’s miserable, but not because of the case; he’s miserable because of how much he wants you—how much he needs you—and he is lying to you, so his thoughts are eating him alive like little demons, and it is them in a bloodthirsty rage, not the man who crushed another man’s skull with a bowling ball. He can’t tell you that he feels as though God is out to get him. Even a sliver of the truth could hurt you, and he refuses to put you in that position. 

But then you put him on the spot again, without even realizing it, and he has no other choice but to cave. 

“I may not be a psychiatrist, but I’ve been told that I have a very good shoulder to cry on,” you say. “Maybe we could grab dinner on Friday and you can, um, decide for yourself?”

That is mighty bold of you. 

Matt processes your offer slower than an old, used car would drive on the highway. “Dinner?” he stammers. 

“Dinner,” you agree. 

He has two options: go for it or say no. He has to be honest with himself though; he can’t deny you anything. 

His mouth opens and closes before he finally answers, “Dinner sounds good, yeah.”

“Alright,” you sound surprised yourself. “Dinner then!”

He smiles, but the decision leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. “Dinner then.” 

“Maybe you should put down the gravel now and go home.”

“If you promise to put down the stethoscope and the scalpel and do the same.”

“Yes, sir.” You start moving on the other end of the line. “I’m already on my way to the locker room.”

Matt doesn’t intend to say it, but it slips his lips anyway. “Good girl,” he says. 

He doesn’t have to be near you to be painfully aware of your reaction. You freeze, and with you, the blood in your veins. Your brain backfires when it tries to form a coherent train of thought, and it is loud enough for Matt to hear. 

A few seconds tick by without as much as a breath from you. “Okay,” you murmur, breaking the loaded silence. You’re trying to gather your bearings and make sense of the shift in the atmosphere. 

He wishes he could melt into the ground. Taking it back won’t work. He already said it. But there is nothing wrong with calling you a good girl, right? It is the truth.

To him, you are good. Beautiful, even. And you are more than anything he could have ever asked for. You’re ethereal. You deserve to know that, but he is starting to think that you may have misinterpreted his intentions.

“I didn’t mean–” he begins to explain himself, but you interrupt him. 

“I know,” you say.

You clear your throat, though Matt doesn’t miss the slight edge to your voice. It’s not nerves, per se. Your voice is thick with something else, and it sends a shiver down the sensitive skin of his spine.

Do you wish he meant it the way your mind made you believe he did?

His fingers dig into the edge of his worn-down wooden desk. “So, I’ll, uh, see you Friday?” he asks, his voice hovering just barely above a hopeful whisper.

Can you hear how hard he is trying not to sound too sultry? Are you aware of what you are doing to him, even though it is a bad idea for him to even be close to you? You make him want to claw up the walls of his office and eat them. It’s scary, the things he would do for you—to you—but at the same time it fills him with intense exhilaration. 

You swallow. Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “Friday, yes. I’m, uh, looking forward to seeing you again,” you reply.

If he could only take your voice and imprint it on his mind for all eternity, he would do so without hesitation. 

The wood starts to splinter under his fingernails. “Me too.” Matt withdraws his hand. 

You bid him goodnight, and that is the last thing you say to him before you hang up. 

Silence engulfs him. The prospect of seeing you again settles over him like a warm blanket, but it only lasts for a few minutes before the comfort disappears, and he is left freezing again. Without you. Alone. 

Matt tries to tell himself that Friday will be the last time, but that night, he finds himself on the rooftop across Metro General, black fabric dangling from his hand as he listens to the distinctive sound of your footsteps exiting the emergency room. You say good night to the nurses, wishing them a peaceful rest of their shift, and then you’re heading out to catch your Uber.

You took a shower, he can smell it. And you changed your scrubs for the same outfit you wore when you met this afternoon. He follows you with a tilt of his head until you’re safely inside the car, and once he’s sure that the night won’t catch up with you, he pulls the mask over his head. 

He told himself Friday would be the last time, but as long as the streets aren’t safe, he can’t stay away from you. It is an awful excuse to keep lying to you, he is well aware of that, but you have drawn him in like like no other, and he would be damned if he let you go. 

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred @echo-ethe

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #daredevil #daredevil x reader #reader insert #charlie cox #do no harm

[miguelswifey04]

Hey love🫶🏻

I cant help but Fall for your story’s they are so well written and beautiful🥹💕

I would like to request a Miguel x chubby reader where Miguel comforts her. She is insecure about her only body because of her family that tells her that she is too fat and ugly and no one would want someone like that. She is actually a soft sunshine for everyone and very friendly with kids (dunno if that info helps hehe). She is strong and doesn’t cry much, but when Miguel saw her tears he knew it was serious.

Please don’t mind my grammar, English isn’t my first language-💀

Don’t feel forced to write something out of your comfort zone Love🫶🏻

never apologize for speaking and writing in a extremely difficult language <33 your english is amazing and i 100% understand it love <33 and thank you for being lovely & super supportive, i see you <33

miguel o’hara x chubby! fem! reader

In your relationship with Miguel, you carried the weight of deep-seated insecurities about your body. The hurtful words from your family echoed in your mind, reverberating with cruel judgments that undermined your self-esteem. Though you radiated warmth, kindness, and an infectious joy with everyone around you, it was often a struggle to extend that same compassion towards yourself.

One evening, the weight of these insecurities became unbearable, and tears welled up in your eyes. You tried to hide your pain, fearing that burdening Miguel with your struggles would only push him away. But Miguel, being attuned to your emotions, sensed your distress. His gaze softened with concern as he approached you with gentle steps.

Wrapping his arms around you, he held you close, providing a safe haven for your wounded heart. "Mi amor, what's troubling you?" he murmured, his voice filled with compassion.

Tears streamed down your face, your emotions finally spilling over the dam of strength you had built. In a whispered voice, tinged with vulnerability, you spoke of the hurtful words that had scarred your self-perception, recounting the degrading remarks you received from your family.

Miguel listened intently, his embrace unwavering, as though absorbing your pain and offering solace in return. His grip tightened slightly, a silent reassurance that he was there for you, in both body and soul.

"Miguel, they say I'm too fat, too ugly," you began, your voice quivering with hurt. "They make me believe that no one could ever want someone like me. But I try so hard to be strong, to be a light for others. It's just so difficult to extend that same love towards myself."

Miguel's fingers gently brushed away your tears, his touch conveying a tenderness that melted away the walls you had built around your heart. He tilted your chin up, ensuring that your gazes met, and spoke with conviction that resonated deep within your core.

"My love," he said, his voice resolute yet tender, "let me tell you something. You are a radiant sunshine in a world often dimmed by negativity. Your warmth, your kindness, and your incredible spirit amaze me every single day. Your body, your curves, are a testament to your strength and beauty. You are exactly as you should be."

With each word, Miguel's voice carried an unwavering belief in your worth and a love that surpassed the judgments of others. He celebrated your unique beauty and reminded you that you deserved love, appreciation, and acceptance just as much as anyone else.

In that moment, as Miguel held you close, you knew that his love and support would help you heal. You realized that your worth was not dependent on the opinions of others, no matter how hurtful. With Miguel by your side, you would learn to embrace your body, celebrate your unique beauty, and shower yourself with the same love and respect you so freely bestowed upon others.

Together, you would build a bridge of self-acceptance, guiding each other towards self-love and appreciation. Miguel, the gentle and steadfast force in your life, would continue to be your unwavering source of comfort and inspiration, reminding you that you were cherished, exactly as you were.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @sabcandoit @meeom

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #🌱 lin writes #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x chubby reader #♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers #lin’s asks

[m-jelly]

Hi, Jelly, what about the request idea that Levi helps the reader believe in love again?

The reader was in love with some guy, but the feelings were not mutual because he was in love with another girl. After she was rejected, reader was in so much pain and closed her heart to love.

After a while, she meets Levi, who apparently has already fallen in love with her. They became good friends, and she told him that her first love was unsuccessful and she does not believe in love and considers it nonsense

Levi says that she is wrong and he can show her that love can be beautiful and that she can be loved. He takes her on dates and treats her the way she deserves. She falls in love with Levi and decides to confess to him. Levi is happy because he was able to help the woman he loves believe in love and became happy with him

@ladycheesington <3

Little by little

Levi x fem!Reader

Modern AU, confessions, emotional healing, fluff, dates, caring Levi, gentle Levi

Levi has been incredible and patient with you and his love never falters at all. He shows you how wonderful love can be. You've gone on plenty of dates and the more you've gone with him, the more your heart yearns for him. One day, you struggle to hold back your feelings and confess.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

You gripped your bag tightly as you walked outside and waited for your ride. Dating Levi had been a dream for you. Before Levi, you had given up on love, but he came walking into your life and wanted to show you what love really was. The care and love he gave you was so moving to you.

The deal the two of you had made started about a month and a half ago. Levi had confessed his love to you but you had hesitated. You told Levi your story and he was so accepting and sweet with you. He wanted you to believe in love again. So, he said he would show you how beautiful love could be and started taking you on dates. You agreed because he was sweet, funny, handsome and there was a little bubble of affection inside you for him.

Each date had been wonderful and the more time you spent with Levi, the more the chains around your heart started unlocking and opening you up. Before you knew it, you were longing for Levi to contact you, be with you, touch you, smile with you and talk to you. You needed him all the time.

Today, you were nervous because you were going to confess. Love was hard for you, so confessing to someone again was a big deal. You didn't want to be rejected again. You didn't think you could take another rejection. Your love for Levi was a lot stronger than your previous love.

A soft call of your name made your thoughts break. You tuned into the world around you to hear the busy road, along with people hurrying past. You then started to ignore them when the most handsome and sweet man you have ever known was before you.

Levi walked closer to you and held your upper arms as he called your name again. "Are you okay?"

You felt your heart flutter in your chest. You were certain that you loved this man. "I'm okay."

He gave your arms a gentle squeeze. "Nervous? Sorry if you are. I'll try and ease the tension."

"Don't be sorry." You shuffled closer to him. "It's a good feeling."

"I'm glad."

You hummed. "Could...could I hold your hand?"

He nodded and took your hand in his. "Always." He pulled you along to his car. "You can hold my hand in the car too, but I'll need to let it go sometimes."

"Th-that's okay."

He opened the door for you and helped you in. Levi took his seat behind the wheel. He kept his word and held your hand tightly when he didn't need both on the wheel. Levi's heart was filled with joy that you wanted so much contact with him. He believed that he was getting closer and closer to you.

The date was a cute simple one at the zoo. You held hands as you walked around and admired the animals. The two of you were drawn to the animals on the cute side. Levi kept his distance because he wanted you to lead a lot of the progress. He didn't want to scare you away. So, you decided to ask him to do something for you.

You gripped a railing as you looked down at some bears. Your cheeks burned as your heart raced in your chest. "Le-Levi?"

"Yes?"

You clenched up a little. "Could...could you...hold me from behind?"

Levi's eyes widened in delight. He dove for you and eagerly wrapped his arms around you. He nuzzled the crook of your neck and hummed in happiness. "Warm."

You reached up and placed your hand on his arm. "Yes."

He leaned and peeked at your face. "Is this okay?"

You gripped his arm tightly. "Y-Yes, but umm..." you turned in his arms and hugged him "this is better."

Levi wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tightly. "Yes, you're right."

You lifted your head from his chest and gazed at him with your cheeks burning. "Levi."

"Yes?"

You gripped his shirt tightly as your heart raced. You were nervous to say the word love due to your heart being shattered before, but you wanted to say it to Levi. You could feel it for him. As you gazed deep into his beautiful steel-blue eyes, you just felt so compelled.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and leaned up towards him. Your lips crashed against Levi's in a sweet and passionate kiss. A little moan escaped you when he yanked you against his warm body. Your lips parted causing Levi's tongue to slip into your mouth.

Levi firmly pressed you against him as he gripped you tightly. His tongue moved with yours as his dream came true. He could feel strong emotions coming from you. It was clear to him you felt the same way about him that he did about you. He couldn't wait to hear how you felt.

You pulled from Levi's lips and felt so at peace as you looked deep into his eyes. "I love you."

Levi's eyes widened as pure joy filled his heart. "You...you do?"

You nodded as tears filled your eyes. "Please...please don't say there is someone else." You shook a little. "Please."

He wiped your tears away before showering your face in kisses. "I love you too. I love you so much. There is no one else, there is only you. There is only room for one name in my heart and it's you. It'll always be you. Forever you."

You hugged Levi tightly and pressed your face against him. "You make me so happy. I mean it, Levi. I love you." You sniffed. "You made me believe in love again."

"I will take care of your love and heart. You and me, forever." He cradled your face and kissed you again.

#levi #levi ackerman #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x you #fanfic #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #jelly fanfics #levi x reader fluff #levi x yn #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman snk #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #levi attack on titan #levi aot #levi ackerman x y/n

[artiststarme]

Part 2 of the Van Vandalism fic but can be read as a stand-alone. This part was heavily influenced by a comment by @doubleb11 and @zerokrox-blog requesting a boyfriend for Steve lol.

~*~*~*~

Eddie had taken to spending all of his free time at Family Video. He couldn’t help it! Steve was so intoxicating and the more time Eddie spent with him, the more he wanted to hang around. It started with Steve loaning him the Beemer while he tried to raise enough money to replace the tires on his van. Eddie would drop him off at work then speed over to the garage to work his shift before hustling back over to Family Video to pick him up and take him home. Everything was going well and they had a system in place… 

Until Eddie found out that Steve sometimes forgot to pack a lunch on his long shifts. So, he had no choice but to add it to his schedule! Every weekday he would; pick up Steve, drop him off at work, go to the garage, take Steve some lunch, go back to the garage to finish his shift, pick up Steve, go out to dinner with him at the diner, take him home, sleep, then repeat. 

And what was he supposed to do when his day off didn’t align with Steve’s? Really, the only option he had besides being depressed in his trailer alone was hanging out with Steve at Family Video gossiping about the fellow people of Hawkins. It was a no brainer. He would take a seat up on the counter and talk to Steve while he rewound tapes or processed late fees. Hell, he even organized the shelves a time or two. Eddie thinks he was probably at Family Video more than Robin was and she worked there. 

It’s just… Steve was so perfect. He was kind and gentle and understanding. His kind actions spit in the face of what he used to be like in high school and it caused Eddie’s schooltime crush to return with a vengeance. It wasn’t like it was before in which Eddie would pine hopelessly and flee whenever Steve so much as looked at him. Now, being with Steve felt almost attainable and it filled Eddie with a hopeful joy he’d never experienced before. 

It was just another weekday that Eddie strolled into the video store to once again drop off lunch to Steve on his lunch break. He had an hour lunch and you better believe he was going to spend at least half of it with Steve (and the other half driving to and from work). The man in question looked up at the sound of the bell chiming and rolled his eyes humorously. “What are you doing here? I know for a fact that you have appointments until six today.”

Eddie grinned at him and detailed boisterously, “I’m bringing you lunch! You didn’t bring one with you today when I picked you up so I decided to display my unending gratitude with a bountiful harvest of nourishment!” 

Steve’s eyes squinted and his lips pursed as he tried to decipher his words. After a moment of silence, Eddie took pity on him and smirked. “I brought you lunch, dude. It’s the least I can do.”

He shook his head, “you don't owe me shit. It’s a favor and you don’t deserve to have to walk everywhere because some prick slashed your tires.”

“Agree to disagree. You gonna eat it or not?” Eddie waived off his explanation, he’d been hearing it every single time he brought him lunch, and raised an eyebrow in askance. 

“What is it?” Steve asked him, trying to take a peak of the brown paper bag where Eddie was hiding it behind his back. 

“Uncle Wayne’s famous chili, he made some for us last night.”

“Ooo, pass it over.” Eddie handed him the Tupperware container of chili as well as a spoon. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to stick around and talk to Steve while he ate. He still had to replace an alternator in a Chevy today so he had to get back to the garage. 

“Alright man, I’m heading out. I’ll come back around 6:30 and we can hang until your shift ends. How’s the chili?”

Steve literally moaned as he ate a spoonful of the hearty soup which shocked Eddie enough for him to trip on air and fall over. He face-planted on the ground and just laid there for a second. What. The. Fuck. Thankfully, Steve was too busy being enamored with his bowl of chili to pay Eddie any attention. 

“Mmmm, dude this is delicious! Now I owe you one because this is the best chili I have ever tasted. How about I close early tonight and you take me on a date at seven?” Steve said, looking Eddie directly in the eye as he spooned another spoonful of chili into his mouth. 

Oh my god, it's everything Eddie had ever wanted in life. Has he died and gone to heaven? “Abso-fucking-lutely! Stevie, big boy, I would fucking love to go on a date with you! I’ll be here!”

“I would hope so, you’re my ride!” Steve laughed. “Now go, you’re going to be late. I’ll see you tonight.”

All Eddie could do was beam at him and nod his head rapidly up and down. “Okay!”

As he raced back to the garage to finish his shift, he only had one thought. He owed Wayne so much for making that chili. Because that chili finally allowed him to seduce Steve Harrington.

Permanent tag list:@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach

#The Party notices them spending more time together but think they're just really good friends #Robin finds them making out in Steve's car later and Eddie drives away despite Steve's pleads for him to stop #Eddie tells Wayne that his chili brought them together and he tears up #He rubs it in their faces biweekly and puts it in his speech for their wedding #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #robin buckley

[codywanreversebang]

Codywan Reverse Bang 2023: Masterlist Part 2

Team 7

Team 7 [Art] by @thatonetimetraveller

Deflect [5.3k] by @fanfic-obsessed

Later review of his footage would reveal that he protected his general with his general’s lightsaber for almost two hours before the battle was won. He never discussed how the lightsaber appeared to be helping him at many points, because that would just be weird. Right?

Team 8

CWRB Team #8 - Bread [Art] by @dontbelasagnax

sourdough: flour, water, and starting over [18.9k] by @shortcuts-make-long-delays

Did Cody need to be up at 3:50am? No, not technically. But he had graciously offered to take Fox’s Sunday morning shifts at their Uncle’s bakery. Donning Fox's red apron as part of a decade long joke, he works at the bakery as he attempts to figure out what he wants from life. The first time Obi-wan shows up to dinner at Anakin's after moving back to Coruscant, he arrives twenty minutes late with the bag of rolls in hand, and unable to stop thinking about the baker in the red apron. Fox, he's pretty sure the name tag said. Cody and Obi-wan are both just trying to figure out what it means to start over and make your own happiness.

endings mean beginnings [8.3k] by @inkformyblood

A misplaced delivery leads Cody to find more than he ever would have expected after returning to help run the family bakery.

Joys Found and Made [8.2k] by @thehatphotograph

Cody loves his work at the bakery, and he’s grateful to have it, but when he looks at the chair at the other side of his kitchen table he can’t help but feel it’s all a little bit… empty. When he meets Obi-Wan, Cody realizes there might be something to fill his days with other than bagels and babka.

Team 9

Team 9 [Art] by @raccoonclty

what changes and what stays the same [7.5k] by @mymblesbuir

All things considered, then, it's an understatement of epic proportions to say that Ben isn't expecting to be woken up in the middle of the night by Cody of all people holding a gun to his head and a finger to his own lips. Ben has been keeping himself to himself since the violent loss of his brother and sister-in-law on outbreak day, but when his old friend Cody shows up to recruit him for the Fireflies, his life changes once again... (Codywan Reverse Bang - The Last of Us AU)

Seal it With a Kiss [6.5k] by @drowning-inthe-feels

"You can’t fight, Obi-Wan,” Cody cut off the argument already forming. He dragged Obi-Wan closer and rested their foreheads together. “Get a head start. I’ll find you afterwards. I promise.” “Seal it with a kiss?” Obi-Wan pleaded, fingers digging into Cody’s biceps.

Team 10

Team 10 [Art] by @journen

Hold Fast [10k] by @bitwhizzle

Three years ago, Cody ran away from his feelings instead of confronting them. When a Spec Ops mission teams him with Ben Kenobi again, it's finally time to have a chat. During a heated firefight. As one does.

Got Your Back [7.7k] by @crownprincecody

"It could be worse, Lieutenant," Obi-Wan reminded him lightly. "At least our distraction worked." Cody's glower was entirely deserved and predictable. "Sir," he began, tone implying the words 'with all due respect' when there was none in the offing. "Our plan was batshit crazy and left us running on foot from our exploded, liberated ATV." Cody didn't need to look pointedly at the faint plume of smoke still visible at their six for Obi-Wan to understand. That was entirely true. But it had worked. And, given the way the mission had been a SNAFU from the start, Obi-Wan was keen on taking the win. "It worked, Cody," Obi-Wan said again, tone more gentle. There were no words to emphasise how much Cody hated it when their plans went off the rails. It's only supposed to be a milk run. In and out and no real trouble. It's why only two members of the legendary 212th Battalion are sent in. Pity life is never that simple.

Team 11

A Day at the Markets [Art] by @jaegrdrifts

Are You Going to Sundari's Market? [5k] by @nerjetii

At the tender age of fifteen, Kote knew Obi-Wan would be the love of his life. Alright, to be perfectly honest, he’d known that the moment the paper butterfly had come to rest on the tip of his nose. Age had only taken the tender feeling that had curled around his heart and warmed it, and turned it into a fire that smoldered through the year to become a raging fire when Market Day came around. Five Times Obi-Wan and Kote meet at the Market Day in Sundari.

Team 12

You Have Only Just Begun [Art] by @jaegrdrifts

as lanterns rising to the stars [28.6k] by vhetin

Obi-Wan knew the mission was going to be more than a few days, but more than a few days in Sundari was perfectly fine. It's everything else that happens that makes him take up praying to the Force and anyone who might listen. Luckily for him, someone is listening.

and then there was hope [42k] [WIP] by @reginastellaris

Years after the Jedi Order was forced into hiding, Emperor Sheev Palpatine rules over the lands with an iron fist. Close to extinction, the Order sends Obi-Wan Kenobi on a mission to destroy the Emperor and end his terrible reign once and for all. He takes with him the Order’s last pure kyber crystal, a tool able to grow stronger the more hope it is around to vanquish Darth Sidious. Obi-Wan knows it’s a suicide mission, but he’s made his peace with that. Until a group of Sith chase Obi-Wan into a Mandalorian temple where he meets the angel Cody, son of the God of War, Jango, who’s been watching Obi-Wan since he’s been thirteen. Together, they go on a journey to stop Sidious’ tyranny and find Cody’s brother, Rex, who disappeared five years ago. Will they be able to fulfill Obi-Wan’s mission? Or will they die trying?

#masterlist #cwrb23

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 351.brb x oc

THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

a/n: :,) i just love them sm (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: rooster. also LOVE MAKING WOOO

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/316/317/318/319/320/321/322/323/324/325/326/327/328/329/330/331/332/333/334/335/336/337/338/339/340/341/342/343/344/345/346/347/348/349/350

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

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@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

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-

She hasn’t stopped smiling ever since they left her parents’ house. They got home at night time,  literally spent a whole day there, laughing, enjoying food, napping a bit because she was tired…and now she watched her husband from the door frame, watched as the white tee stretched on his shoulders a bit as he pours them some wine, “Wine,LC?” she asks, “This late?”

Rooster looked up from the wine bottle he was holding, a"Why not? A little late-night wine never hurt anyone. Plus, it feels like a perfect way to cap off such a wonderful day."

Beatrice smiled, her heart swelling with contentment. She walked over to him, feet bare"You know what, you're right. A toast to a perfect day."

He handed her a glass, their fingers brushing in a gentle exchange. The clink of the glasses filled the air as they made a silent toast, savoring the rich aroma of the red wine.

"To family, love, and the unexpected joys of life," Rooster declared, his eyes locked with Beatrice's.

"Cheers to that," she replied, taking a sip. The wine was velvety on her tongue, a perfect complement to the tranquil evening. They moved to the living room, settling on the couch with glasses in hand.

Beatrice curled up on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. Rooster joined her, an arm casually draped over the backrest as he savored his wine.

"So," Rooster began, a smirk on his lips, "what's got you grinning like the Cheshire Cat all day?"

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, "Come on, gorgeous. You've been smiling from ear to ear since we left your parents' house. Spill the beans. What's making you so happy?"

Beatrice chuckled, unable to suppress her joy. "Okay, okay, I'll spill. It's just… she sighs, happily “ being with everyone today, with my family, with you—it made me realize how incredibly fortunate and happy I am. I have this amazing family, a wonderful husband, and a life that feels like a dream sometimes."

Rooster's expression softened as he listened to her words. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, gorgeous. I'm just glad to be a part of it."

She leaned into him, her head finding its familiar spot on his shoulder. "You are a huge part of it, Roos. I couldn't ask for a better partner in this crazy journey."

He pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head.smiling against the brown tresses. "I feel the same way. Every day with you is a gift." he sighs, the lavender in her hair entering his nostril and he felt at peace, “...also, your mom forgot I got the promotion,huh.”

“She did.”

“Yeah…she screamed so loud I think it woke the dogs.” he hums,  “And she cried a lot.”

Beatrice chuckled at the thought, hugging his arm with the one that wasn’t holding the glass. "Well, she's always been the emotional type. I'm pretty sure the entire neighborhood knows about your promotion now."

Rooster grinned, "Should I expect a neighborhood-wide celebration or just a congratulatory cake from your mom?"

"Knowing her, it could be both," Beatrice replied, laughing. "But seriously, Roos, I'm so proud of you. You've worked hard, and you absolutely deserve this promotion."

His smile widened at her words. "Thanks, baby. It means a lot to hear that from you. And your family's reaction...I wasn't expecting that level of excitement."

"It's not every day they have a son-in-law climbing up the military ladder," Beatrice teased, nudging him playfully. “Besides,you know how they are, of course they’d be over the top,Roos.”

Rooster chuckled, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and gratitude. "Well, I'm honored to be the cause of such excitement. Your family has always been incredibly supportive, and I couldn't be more grateful for that."

Beatrice nestled closer to Rooster, her hand tracing absent-minded patterns on his chest. "You know they love you just as much as I do.” she whispers, inhaling his cologne and then looking up when he got quiet, ‘...Roos?”

He tried,feebly so, to hide his tears, wiping them with his fingers, “I’m fine,gorgeous.”

Beatrice, concern etching her features, propped herself up on an elbow to look at Rooster. "Hey, what's going on?" She reached out to gently wipe away a stray tear on his cheek.

Rooster took a deep breath, managing a shaky smile. "Sorry, it just hit me. The combination of the promotion, your family's reaction, and... I don't know, I guess it's a lot of emotions all at once."

She scooted even closer, her fingers lightly tracing soothing patterns on his arm. "It's okay, Roos. Emotions are a part of life, and there's no need to apologize for feeling them."

He nodded, taking a moment to collect himself. "I just... I never imagined I'd be here, surrounded by such love and support. It's overwhelming, in the best possible way." he frowns, sniffling again and groaning with annoyance, “With everything that went down I–”

Beatrice smiled tenderly, her gaze filled with understanding. "You've come a long way, Roos, and you've earned every bit of this. Your hard work, dedication, and the love you've given and received—it's all you.”

He sighed, letting the weight of her words sink in. "Sometimes, it just feels surreal, you know? Like I'm afraid I'll wake up, and it'll all be a dream."

"Well, I can assure you, it's very much real," she said, her voice gentle, because boy oh boy,does she know what he means. "You're not dreaming, I promise you"

Rooster's eyes locked onto hers,brown irises moving all over her face. "I love you, Beatrice. More than words can express."

Her heart swelled with affection. "And I love you, Roos. More than words can express.” she smiles, cupping his cheek, “I worry about you, handsome.” he laughs softly, wiping his eyes again and Beatrice took that moment to set her glass aside and slowly climb on his lap,  sitting atop of his thighs with her arms on his neck, “I truly do.”

He stops sniffling for a few seconds, then drops his hands on her hips - glass of wine immediately forgotten - when he feels her warmth on his jeans, “I know…I’m okay gorgeous.” he smiles, rubbing her chin with his thumb and leaning back on the couch, “...I like this view.”

Beatrice chuckled, a warm, melodious sound that echoed in the quiet living room. She shifted slightly on his lap, finding a comfortable position, and leaned in, her lips hovering near his ear. "Well, if you like this view, maybe we should make it a regular occurrence."

Rooster grinned, and the hands on her hips tightened their hold "I wouldn't mind that at all. It's the best seat in the house."

She planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "And the best company, too."Beatrice, still perched on Rooster's lap, traced the contours of his face with her fingertips, savoring the closeness. “It is a great view.”

“Trying to make me4 blush?”

“Is it working?”

His eyes squinted a bit, the dimples on his cheeks becoming prominent as he smiles. “...maybe.” he slides the hands from her hips to her thighs, feeling where the fabric ended and skin began, “A little yes.”

Beatrice's fingers continued their delicate exploration of Rooster's face, tracing the contours of his strong jawline and lingering on the scruff that adorned it. Rooster, in turn, relished the sensation, his eyes locked onto hers "I could get used to this," Rooster admitted, his voice a soft murmur. "Just you and me, enjoying the quiet moments."

“Well,it’s been a while since we had the time to sit down and…relax.”

Rooster nodded, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he reveled in the proximity. "Agreed. Life gets so busy, “she feels his fingers going tap, tap,tap, on her skin, drawing shapes as he speaks, “...and I missed you so much.”

"I missed you too, Roos," she confessed, her voice a tender murmur. "Life does get crazy, but moments like these make everything worthwhile."

Rooster's fingers continued their rhythmic dance on her thighs, "Hmmm…” and his eyes drop down from her lips, to her neck and then to her chest, seeing it rise and fall as she breathed in and out, “...yeah…yeah true.”

“You are not even paying attention,Roos.”

Rooster's gaze snapped back to her eyes. "Guilty as charged. But who can blame me when there's such a beautiful distraction sitting on my lap?"

"Flatterer. You always know how to turn a situation around."

He grinned, his hands now settling on her hips again, providing a comforting warmth. "Well, when you have the most beautiful distraction in the room, it's hard not to get a bit distracted." he smirks, leaning closer, “And I love turning you around too.” his hands slide down to her ass where he cupped both cheeks with gusto, groaning when his palms were filled by her flesh, “Fuck,”

She gasps softly, watching as he dropped his face on her chest and she had to admit…she missed him too and sitting on his lap was already doing things inside of her. She did use a dildo, but once you have someone - once you have a Rooster - she could orgasm but it wasn’t the same.

She feels his teeth gently scraping the upper side of her left breast and his tongue following the cleavage before he moves his lips up,kissing where her neck met her shoulder with a happy hum, “You still taste really good…”

Beatrice’s eyelids dropped a little and she tried to hear if the dogs were coming over or if the baby monitor squeaked with activity, but she heard only silence. Her shoulders dropped in relief just in time for her husband’s large hands slide under her shirt until he reached her bra strap, tongue still trailing up and down her neck, “Roos…”

“Yeah?”

“We better go to the bedroom–” she squeaks in surprise because he immediately picked her up, bouncing her body in his hold to keep her steady as he walks to the staircase, all the while kissing her neck, sucking the skin enough for a red hickey to bloom on her skin.

Beatrice gasps his name, her nails gently scratching his nape as he tried, quietly, to go to their bedroom without waking anyone. She couldn’t remember the last time they had sex, which was a god damn mistake since there was no way she’d forget him.

They got inside the room and Rooster blindly locked the door, his saliva glistening her neck and chest before he sets her down, only to slam their lips together. The absence, from both sides was finally hitting, and hitting hard.

Bea moans into his mouth, feeling his hands cup her cotton shorts and then pull on the elastic, “Take ‘em off.” he breathes against her lips, pressing hot kisses on her skin, “Get all nice and naked for me,gorgeous.”

And he’s looking at her so hungrily she only nods and smiles, backing towards the bed while keeping her eyes on him. She wished she could remove her clothes and remain gazing at her husband’s body, because that man was carved out of marble. He is naked within seconds saved for his dark briefs that now were just a bit tented, “...how long were you–”

“Ever since we started drinking.” he replies, chest heaving, “...c’mere.” he doesn’t give her enough time to react because he kisses her again, his hands sliding under her cotton shorts to slide them down her thighs.

She moans into his mouth as he grabs her ass again, digging his digits into her ass cheeks and leaning back just enough to slap it. The sudden crack echoed all around the room and Rooster swallows her surprised moan, his hand moving to her front. Beatrice gasps into his mouth as his fingers slide inside of her by just pulling her panties’ crotch to the side.

He’s so very pleased when his fingers immediately feel the moistness inside. “You are already so wet for me.” he coos, kissing his way over her ear, mustache scratching her skin as she leans into him, breasts squished against his chest as she feels his calloused digits moving in and out of her.

He can feel the dribble sliding down his hand and he bites his lower lip, because he missed this so very much. And normally, he’d be all up for foreplay but– “Roos,please,” she gasps, hips moving against his hand, “Please,I just need you…r-right now.”

Oh.

Well.

Who was he to deny her?

He has to breathe in to calm himself down, slowly pulling his fingers out - the gentle squelching wasn’t missed by either of them - and licking them clean, he just watches with lust heavy eyes as she smiles - god he loved her smile - and gives her back to him to remove her bra.

“I don’t know why i’m so nervous.”

He flicks his eyes back up at her, seeing how she suddenly hugged herself. Oh that wouldn’t do. He is quick to get rid of his briefs and step behind her,pulling her hair to the side so he could kiss her neck, moaning in pure raw need when her cheeks just wrap around his member as he steps forward “Wha-why are you– fuck – nervous?”

“I don’t know.” she repeats, “I think it’s because it’s been a while since we,” and his hands cup her breasts, fingers pinching her nipples and squeezing the soft flesh, “W-We had…s-sex….oh god.”

He smirks, moving his hips slowly, grinding his cock against her ass, “I love you.” he whispers, “All of you. You still look as fucking sexy as I remember.” he kisses her shoulder, “How do you want to do this?”

Her whole body is on fire, but she replies, “I missed having you on top of me.” she whispers, biting her lower lip when she feels his smile on her skin, his hands sliding down to the love handles on her hips. 

“Well,” he coos, “Get comfortable,gorgeous.”

She wastes no time in stepping forward and falling on the bed, grabbing a pillow to get comfortable and so she could see him better. He looked unreal, like a full body illusion with the sexiest swagger she had ever seen. She bites her lower lip again, flushing just enough to make him smile as he settled on top of her.

He kisses her lips, then her cheekbone, before he nuzzles their noses together, “Wanna do the honors?” he asks while gently prodding her entrance - his gland latches on the opening for a second before it pops out again, and Beatrice whimpers while nodding.

He doesn’t know why but feeling her wedding band touching him as she align his member to her entrance was unbelievably hot. He just keeps his eyes on hers, those green irises shining with unshed tears and those pink,glossy lips of hers parting as she finally achieves it…and he pushes forward.

Honestly it’s a feeling both missed and it’s hard for them to control how good they feel. He wastes no time in interlacing their hands together and pulling them above her head. Eyes still locked as his hips move. He watches her micro expressions, the way her lips part into his name, how she whispers it so reverently but as quiet as a mouse.

Rooster is mesmerized. He always is, honestly, when it comes to Beatrice. He’s so happy. he’s so happy. He couldn’t explain but the way this woman made him feel was out of this world. His hips meet hers and he’s slow, he’s languid, he wants both to njoy this, he wants both to remember how they felt to one another.

Her wetness was comforting and warm and nice. Nice, perfect, perfection.

Beatrice was perfection.

She gasps again, a bit louder and she bites her lower lip. He knows that the flesh will be redder because of the blood rushing under there. He knows there’ll be indentations from here her teeth dug into, he knows he’ll kiss those indentations over and over because he loves her.

He had planned for something else right now, but he didn’t care. He smiles so much when her eyes focus on his and those pearly whites greet him. He moves a bit faster and her breasts shake because of it, but he’s so latched on her face.

She mouths a very quiet ‘what?’ between moans and he shakes his head. He doesn’t know what other adjectives could be said to describe her right now. He missed her, missed this, missed them. Maybe it was the whole M thing, the whole investigation but…for a second he thought he wouldn’t be able to…well.

He drops his head on her shoulder, letting go of her hands for a second so he could wrap his arms around her waist while her own arms were around his shoulders. His hips moved faster, the gentle slapping of skin against skin was loud enough for them to hear but only them. He digs his fingers on her ribs, feeling the soft flesh dip under the pressure, he wants to keep her there.

He knows he’s about to orgasm but he doesn’t care. And seeing how Beatrice got her own before his was enough of a reason for him to let go. He does so by lifting his head and pressing his forehead to hers, mouth parted, panting heavily, “I love you.”

“I love you too Roos.”

“I love you so much.” he furrows his brows, moving his hips faster, “I love y–” he swallows his groan when his orgasm hits and teeth clench  as the shudder goes up and down his spine. Her soft hands caressed the back of his head, up and down, playing with the golden brown waves as he stutters with aftershocks.

He doesn’t move. Neither does she. He just inhales her sweet scent and keeps it to memory.

“i’m gad it’s you he thinks

I’m glad it’s you too. she thinks at the same time.

I’m glad it’s us.

#im happy yall are still here #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction