#AND YOU KNOW SHE'S BEEN INTO HER SINCE LIKE. KINDERGARTEN

[fujoshirat]

When the Shouto Todoroki saves you and your kindergarten students at the aquarium during a villain attack, you can't seem to get him out of your head. Bonus: you're quirkless and he's a pro hero, so you live in two different worlds. The glue? His cute nephew that's obsessed with rocks and that just so happens to be in your kindergarten class.

In short: You've become obsessed, you suppose. But that's all right, you're not the only one that's obsessed.

WARNING: multi-POV (should have mentioned that last time and for the rest of the series but lol i'm always changing POVs), the end </3

Part 1! Part 2! Part 3!

4 - Suits

Kaoru doesn’t know how to feel about the suit. It’s itchy and the wrist cufflinks are kind of tight. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he admires his reflection.

“Fancy…” he mumbles, not quite used to wearing such an elegant outfit. He wore T-shirts and shorts everywhere: at home, the park, the store. On more formal occasions like dinners with ojii-san and baa-chan, he’d wear jeans. The suit was stuffy and restrictive. But Kaoru liked it in a way. The suit made him look older. It made him look like oji-san at the suit store: grown up.

A knock on the door makes the little boy gasp. “Kaoru-kun, it’s me.” Recognizing his father’s voice, he opens the door. Natsuo smiles and enters. “Hey, are you ready to go? It’s almost time.” Kaoru nods and walks to the nearby desk. There, he grabs the smooth black box and opens it. Inside, two gorgeous matching rings, adorned with sandstone (Kaoru picked it out himself) and diamonds. Simple and elegant, like his oji-san. He hears his father clear his throat and turns back around to face him. Natsuo unexpectedly smooths out his son’s hair, earning a whine. “Dad!” His father crouches down and looks at the little boy maturing.

“Hey, Kaoru-kun.”

“Yes, dad?”

A soft smile adorns the white-haired man’s face.

“I’m proud of you.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Shouto Himura Todoroki is nervous. Here he is, standing at the altar, his best man and groomsmen standing to the side, the officiant waiting, everyone waiting, about to marry the most perfect woman he’s ever known. His gaze trails off to the rose flower decorations, archways and chairs all adorned with the romantic flower. Shifting his weight, the pro hero could feel his heart racing under his suit.

It had been exactly two and a half years since he’d confessed to her. They stood in the doorway of Kaoru’s kindergarten center one night, as Shouto was picking his nephew up. Stumbling over his words, he nervously gave you the rock and his affections, that beautiful, smooth speckled rock.

And she said yes.

Shouto was pulled out of his thoughts when the music began to play. He watched the young flower girl gracefully throw red and white rose petals along the path, some playfully landing on the guests.

And there you were, bathed in the sunlight, radiantly shining in the beautiful, pure white gown. You looked like a queen-no, a goddess. Your face covered in a sheer veil, your arm was resting on your father’s as you began walking down the aisle. Shouto could see your smile: bright yet nervous, eyes already tearing up. His chest tightening, the man could also feel a tear forming in his left eye.

Slowly, step by step, you approached the altar. Once close enough, his soon-to-be (literally) father in law gave Shouto a small smile before putting Y/N’s hand on his. When he walked away, Shouto tenderly whispered to her. “You’re so beautiful.” You giggled bashfully in response, your smile widening. The ceremony proceeding, time becoming a blur.

And when it came time for the rings, the not-so-little 8-year-old boy with white hair and pale skin walked up to the couple. Small shoes clicking on the tile, he stood in front of the pair and opened the box. There, the rings rested on the small velvety pillow. A rare smile full of sunshine adorned Kaoru’s sweet face as he looked at the soon-to-be-wedded couple. His teacher, Y/N L/N, and his uncle, Shouto Todoroki. Crouching down slightly, Shouto smiles at his nephew and takes the rings. “Thank you, Kaoru-kun.” Cheeks turning a soft shade of pink, the boy wordlessly nods and walks back to his seat.

A crystal tear rolls down your pretty face as Shouto puts on your ring. Sniffling, you put on his, trying to stop crying. The officiant watches before clearing his throat and proclaiming joyfully:

“I pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride!”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Every couple has their wingman, that special person that brought them together. For you and Shouto, it was his cute little nephew and your kindergarten student that made you two obsessed with each other.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

A/N: Part 4 is done and the series is over... (˃̣̣̥ヘ˂̣̣̥) I can't believe that this little idea in my scattered brain finally grew wings and was published OwO Thank you for reading Obsessed and I hope that you all loved it!! I sincerely appreciate everyone's support and patience with this mini series ദ്ദിദ്ദി(˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) It was so much fun writing it and seeing all of the love!! Once I have time, I will update the series into a proper masterlist. Part 1 got a whopping 373 likes and Part 2 got an astonishing 23 reblogs, extremely surprising numbers for an underground writer like me >< So, one again, thank you all so much and I hope that you continue to look forward to and enjoy my future works ♡♡

TAGLIST: ♡♡ @roseapov @brittanylikesstuff @stanseventeen @qardasngan @jastoo46 @kysoshir0 @arc6021 @sparklyglitterangel @mangooes @bitchyfestivalbouquet @hanzyyme @a1wrm

[carmenilla]

incoming anti-milkvan rant but pro-elmike rant (and some byler mixed in there because you know me)

my rants aren’t very organized so i apologize :,)

mike and el haven’t been together since like the first season, and their relationship has been descending since then.

the most they’ve spent by each other’s side was in season three, and even then they were in a group setting like the whole time and it wasn’t them, together. also we’ve all seen the season three blocking. they are almost never next to each other

with will it’s the opposite. mike and will spent no time together in season 1, but spent 90% of the time together in both season 2 and season 4 (el was barely with mike in either of these seasons) and while season three had them be less of a pair, once again, the season three blocking comes in clutch and makes sure to pair mike with will in every group setting

they even spent the end of season 4 together. even after mike confessed his “love” for el. el and mike aren’t talking, they aren’t with each other, they’re not even paired together in the blocking of the final shot. (we all know who is, though.

when are mike and el ever together since they’ve been dating, excluding scenes that further the deterioration of their relationship? they’re barely together at all.

el continuously has a plot/subplot of coming into her own. being independent. not being defined by papa, or her dad, or mike (as max says in season three). obviously she wants to have a family and loved ones. she deserves to have that. she does have that - but that’s not going to be taken away or lessened by her standing on her own two legs without anyone else telling her how they want her to do so

all of this has been leading to a milkvan breakup. it’s been built up for multiple seasons now. they’ve laid the ground work. mike and el were best together and understood each other the most when they were friends.

notice how i didn’t say “just friends” - romantic relationships are not actually any stronger than friendship. just different. in fact, friendship is stronger, and while romance can heighten that (like with other pairings in the show) sometimes it just doesn’t (like with mike and el).

mike and el haven’t been friends for a while. like how people say “just friends”, they’re just dating. they’ve been doing this since they were so young and they’re still so young and they don’t understand the importance of the friendship aspect of romantic relationships. they only understand what girlfriend and boyfriend are supposed to do, and they can’t even try to do that without it all falling apart.

they need to be friends again. their relationship would be so much stronger. i miss their friendship. they were so sweet and so understanding and so good together when they were actually friends. a lot of couples are both friends and dating, especially in stranger things - look at lumax, my favorite example of this and why i love them so much. but mike and el aren’t. and they should be. they were best when they were

i fucking love elmike and there’s no chance of me getting them back if they keep trying to date each other “correctly” instead of, i don’t know, trying to be friends again. making genuine connections with each other. being true to the nature of their relationship. they are such friends, and maybe if they were friends and dating it would work out, but they’re not and it’s clear they’re not going to be. so if it’s one or the other, they should pick friends. they are amazing together as friends. they were always best as friends.

and then when we flip over to the byler side of things. mike and will have had a long time being friends. they’ve been friends, best friends, since kindergarten. in season 5, they’ll be in junior year, and they will have been best friends for ten years. they’ve had time to have their relationship develop, unlike mike and eleven. they are so clearly very good to each other and with each other as friends - but there is something grating on their relationship and friendship recently. something bubbling beneath the surface, making smooth sailing not so smooth.

yes, this is a metaphor for homosexuality. homosexuality is banging on their door. these bitches GAY. and it’s straining their friendship. they’re still friends, obviously, and they still want to be, but by ignoring this whole other piece of their relationship, they start fighting and misunderstanding each other for the first time in the history of their friendship. something clearly needs to change here.

when byler does become canon, there is zero doubt in my mind that they will still also be friends. that is the backbone and most important part of their relationship, and that is why their relationship will work. and that’s also 80% of the reason why i ship them, especially over milkvan, who just aren’t friends anymore like they were in s1.

something needs to change here in both mike and el’s relationship and mike and will’s. something that will benefit all these characters individually and their relationships. something that the creators have been laying the groundwork for for multiple seasons now. and i cannot wait to watch it happen. i love all three of these characters so much and i need them to get their happy ending

[powderblueblood]

oh my god can we see ronnie in the HF&I universe but when she’s got a crush/dating someone? the dynamic of eddie ribbing on her would be TOO good

"i can't talk about it."

"ron--"

"no, i literally cannot talk about it."

"ronnie--"

"eddie!"

"it's okay!" eddie says, almost soothingly, his sneakers squeaking against the linoleum of the hallway. "listen, all god's children. i liked a cheerleader too, once."

ronnie pivots in the middle of the hall, long limbs flailing like weaponry in a way that makes eddie fall back. fall back! chest all tight and cheeks all hot and standing there in a living entanglement of embarrassment.

"then again... my cheerleader," and by my cheerleader, this asshole means the brief, fleeting crush he had on one christine cunningham, "didn't almost definitely have..."

"that you know of, bitch!"

and suh-woop, ronnie takes back off down the hall with eddie hot on her tail in a jangle of chains and denim and shit.

running away from her feelings: it's a very real, physical affliction! especially when she's been marinating on a crush this long! this is no munson's hot girl of the week, this is no jeff's NPC hellfire spouse du jour, this shit is...

this shit is bright brown eyes and a big cresting wave of a bang and taut thighs and a yell that ricochets off waxed gym floors and blueberry bubble gum and petal perfume and such a total cliche and never in a million years and there's always a maybe, i like a fantasy as much as the next tabletop role playing game playing girl and...

goddammit, she'd been doing really well with keeping this shit under wraps!

before she knows exactly where her feet are carrying her, she's busting through the door of the newspaper room, dark save for the light of one green desk lamp.

"do not barrel in here when i'm holding a fucking x-acto knife," come the off-puttingly serene, cerebral tones of lacy doevski from the back left corner.

ronnie, heaving, slams the door behind her. what with being ten feet something tall, she can outrun munson pretty easily, but with lacy here? she's run straight into the jaws of something else.

"why aren't you at the pep rally?" ronnie gasps and hisses, the strangled tone apparently catching lacy's attention.

"excommunication, mostly," she says, blade glinting. god. i mean, ronnie knows they're friends and all, but it's moments like this that she really gets it. the whole doevski draw. "why are you hiding in here?"

then, from beyond the door in a way that makes ronnie's spine go rigid with annoyance, you've got fuckin' eddie bigmouth. knocknocknock!

"hey! ecker! you're not supposed to be innnn there, ecker, lacy said something about an x-acto knife and not wanting to be disturbed--"

ronnie glances to lacy, who just shrugs, a dumb little wistful little dumb little look on her stupid face. ugh. they're disgusting.

"unless this is like, some kind of girl thing, in which case--... no fair. lemme in-uhh."

"let him in," lacy says.

"i don't wannuuh," ronnie whinges.

"ron, if you don't let him in, he's gonna scratch at that door all afternoon and i'm not gonna meet this deadline and then i'm gonna have to use this teeeeny tiny little knife here to gut you both," all said with the casual airs of please and thank you. eddie's got his face smooshed up against the glass.

fuck.

ronnie yanks the door back open and her day one pain-in-the-ass stumbles through.

"hi!" eddie calls to lacy, momentarily distracted as he makes a beeline for her. thank god. "hi."

they do some horribly unsubtle couple-y bullshit where he sorta dances around her desk and she warns him not to come any closer but is smiling the whole time and ronnie flops down into fred benson's chair, wondering if this kind of horseshit would be appealing if it were her and--

"ronnie has a crush on a cheerleader."

the x-acto knife clatters to the desk. "what!"

"and i know which oooone!"

"eddie! fuck!"

"spill!"

"don't!"

"eddie..."

"she was spyin' on her under the bleachers--"

"munson!"

"--i mean, i think she almost had that floor routine down if you catch my drift--"

"--cut to the chase--" "--fuckin' shut! up!"

but before ronnie can up out of that chair and like, i don't know, knock eddie out or sit on him or something, lacy's wound around him like a snake. in-a-gadda-da-vida, this chick, she defies resistance. saying that, if the roles were reversed and it were ronnie and--

lacy's all, who is it and eddie's all giggling into her neck and it's disgusting.

but then he tells her, and her face falls.

"veronica ecker!" ronnie's friend lacy is a great scold-er. she's got a scold like you wouldn't fuckin' believe.

but ronnie wants to shrink into her skeleton. she wants her bones to turn to dust. poof, and nothing's left but a little baseball cap for these ungrateful bastards to remember her by. all 'cause she has what might be construed as conceptually a little romantic inkling for--

"tina burton?!"

ronnie sighs, dragging her hands over her face. "i realize this is morally unsound given your current social predicament, lace, but--"

in unison, the indefatigable duo of cornfed gomez and morticia over there go, "--the crabs, dude!" "you could do so much better, ronnie, you fool!"

[gilgil-machine]

.

[inmirova]

In an ideal world, it would be a program for Deaf teachers, the government could even put it under vocational rehab if they wanted to! Unfortunately, even some Deaf schools don't employ many Deaf teachers and a lot of teaching jobs end up going to interpreters or just hearing & non-signing people instead. But you're right and I love what you said, we can hope 🩷

idk man. i just think itd be really cool if sign language classes were mandatory throughout primary school. yeah because it would make communication with deaf kids and autistic/nonverbal kids much easier. and those kids would be accessible to the others so they cold make friends and have healthy relationships. yeah. and kids would eat that shit up man. like their own little secret language? they love that.

[nezuscribe]

you’re gojo satoru’s best friend. you’ve known him since you were four and every year you continue to know him is just another year you fall more and more in love with him.

he makes you laugh so hard that you pee a little. he always helps you with chem and he’s so smart that you don’t feel bad using him for his brain. he always buys you stuff, even though you never ask him to, and he cares for you, deeply cares.

you two pinky promised in kindergarten that you’d be best friends forever. and you’ve held onto that moment.

the only problem? he’s madly in love with your sister.

gojo has loved your sister since the moment he met her. she’s so sweet, caring, smart, and funny. she’s everything you’re not and more.

and they’ve been dating since they were teens. something you just learned to get used to and push him a little bit further away out of respect for your sister.

and he notices your distance after a while. he talks to you about it but you feign innocence, pretending like nothing was wrong.

so gojo just shrugs it off. after a couple of years, when you guys are a little older than before, you and gojo are still each others friends, just not the way you used to be.

so why is it that for family dinner one night, when he’s with your sister and your family, you bring home a guy?

and why does he feel his fists clench, his stare icy whenever he sees the guy kissing your cheek, holding your hand above the table? why does gojo want to beat him bloody when he leans in and makes you laugh?

and you look up briefly to look at gojo, smiling to see if he heard the joke and your face falls for a second in confusion at the hard glare he’s throwing your way.

the only thing that brings gojo back to reality is when his girlfriend, your sister, pokes his thigh to ask him what’s wrong.

he swallows thickly and says it’s nothing.

but it must be something because gojo always thought he was a confident person. he’s never felt annoyed when a guy hit on his girl or checked her out, just shamelessly made out with her to make him uncomfortable.

but gojo feels his eye twitch.

for the first time in his life he feels jealously.

burning, fiery, angry jealousy. and the worst part? he’s not even sure it’s going to be the last.

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 8 (part one)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.1k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

additional chapter cw! suggestive moments, mature readers only

Carter could hear his car approaching before it even came into view.

She had been grounded for two weeks, caught out with Topper on his granddad’s boat past curfew, and she had never been more bored in her life. Slumped back on the couch, she dipped her hand in the bag to grab another chip, pausing mid-bite when she heard the familiar hum of Rafe’s truck engine growl down the street.

“Oh fuck no,” she hopped off the couch, a trail of crumbs in her wake as she jogged to the front door. 

Though she knew you were away for the afternoon, your mom taking you to tour a local college on the mainland, she instinctively double checked that your car was still gone. She was thankful you weren’t here to see him in his oversized ego-mobile zipping down your street like he owned it.

You’d been devastated all week, crying yourself to sleep in the wake of seeing Rafe kiss Cassie Bryant. Nothing made Carter angrier than knowing you were hurt and not being able to do anything about it. 

She couldn’t believe his nerve to show up here. He’d been texting to you all week, clearly not taking your lack of response for the answer that it was. You were finally finding the strength to stay away from him, and she was not about to let that unravel.

She stood on the front porch, closing the door firmly behind her, arms crossed and stance wide like she was prepared to defend her castle. Really, she was prepared to defend you.

Rafe parallel parked on the street, some misogynistic country song blaring from his subwoofers. Carter rolled her eyes at the way his massive truck took up enough space for two cars, always claiming what wasn’t his, taking and taking and giving nothing in return.

Closing the driver’s door with a bang, Rafe hopped down from his truck and strolled toward the house, stopping short in the front walk when he noticed Carter glaring out at him.

“You have some fucking nerve, Cameron,” she spat at him.

“I’m not here for you,” he glared back.

“Well no one else in this house wants to talk to your ass right now so you can go ahead and turn right back around.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I just wanna know why she wasn’t at my game today.”

“Uh-oh,” she tilted her head in mock-sympathy, “did ya lose?”

He clenched his jaw, an angry huff of air flaring his nostrils, “yeah, we lost.”

“Good.”

“Can you just let me in?” He started moving toward the front steps, but she didn’t move from her spot blocking the door. “I need to talk to her and she’s not answering my texts.”

“Do you think that’s an accident?” She scoffed. “Take a hint.”

“Okay, what’s your fucking problem, Carter?” He snapped the sentence off with a bite of her name.

“You’re my problem, Rafe,” she bit right back.

“What the fuck did I do? Why isn’t your sister answering my calls?”

“I dunno, maybe you should ask Cassie Bryant,” her hands uncrossed and rested on her hips.

Rafe stepped back, head dropping back in exasperation as he rolled his eyes at the sky.

“That’s what this is about? Cassie and I are just hooking up, what’s the big deal?”

“You mean besides the fact that Cassie’s made my sister’s life hell since they were in the same Kindergarten class?” She threw at him. “Or that you’ve been dragging my sister along since she was six years old just to ditch her for some wannabe Addison Rae tiktok flop?”

“God, you’re always so fucking dramatic, it isn’t even like that,” he gestured toward the window of your bedroom, still assuming you were up there somewhere avoiding him, “your sister knows we’re cool.”

“You’re not cool, Rafe. You’re an idiot,” she told him with a pitying shake of her head. 

Rafe turned her words over in his head, finally stopping long enough to consider the possibility that he’d done more damage than he initially thought.

“Is she really mad at me?” He mumbled, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Carter sighed, “No. She’s not mad at you. She’s never mad at you, that’s the problem. You don’t make her mad, you make her sad. All you ever do is make her sad.”

Shoulders falling, Rafe looked past Carter with a vacant stare. He looked so confused and distraught she almost felt bad for him. Almost. 

“I didn’t mean to make her sad,” he mumbled, almost at a whisper.

Carter scanned him with narrowed eyes, trying to decide if his penance was sincere. He looked down at his shoes, digging the tip of one into the stony walkway.

“How do I fix it?”

Carter started to think maybe he was sincere after all, but she still wasn’t sure he was in any place to be asking for advice.

“I don’t know if you can,” she told him.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he said hopefully, trying to console himself. “She’ll come around.”

He looked at Carter like he was actually expecting her to agree.

“And then what, Rafe?” She tilted her head, genuinely curious about the answer. “What’s the end game here? You’ll just make her sad for a few more months and then go off to school and…what?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged defensively. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“Exactly. You don’t think things through. That’s always been your problem,” she informed him, “you just do what you want and pay no attention to how it affects other people. If you really cared about her, you wouldn’t keep putting her through the same shit over and over.”

“I do care about her,” he mumbled, her words beginning to penetrate his carefully constructed antagonistic armor.

“I wish I could believe that,” she shook her head sadly, “I wish she could believe that. At least when she did, she wasn’t crying herself to sleep every night.”

Sour regret burned in his throat at the thought of your tears dripping onto your pillowcase, some unfamiliar heartache he didn’t understand. 

“Maybe you could convince her that I do,” he offered, “she listens to you.”

“Why would I do that?” Carter snapped.

“Because then she wouldn’t be so sad,” his voice was so feeble it was like he was shrinking right before her eyes, his tall, intimidating frame so small and inadequate under the towering shadow of his guilt.

“Tell you what Rafe,” she began, “I’ll try and convince her that you care about her if you can look me in the eyes and tell me with your whole chest that you won’t hurt her anymore, that you won’t use her to your advantage, or drop off the face of the earth for weeks not answering her texts, or kiss other girls right in front of her face. That you’ll fight for her and put her before your own selfish bullshit. Can you make that promise?”

He wrung his hands, mindlessly adjusting the ring on his right forefinger, jaw clenched as he tried to will forth a convincing enough yes. He couldn’t do it.

“That’s what I thought,” Carter said. “If you can’t fight for her, then…”

“What?” He asked desperately, hoping she’d offer him some olive branch shaped way out of the  shame engulfing his chest.

“Then I am asking you- begging you really - to let her go. Stop texting, stop coming by the house, stop making promises you’re not gonna keep. Please. If not for me, then for her.”

“Do you think that’s what she wants?” He asked.

“No. But I think it’s what she needs,” she said, knowing it would kill you if you knew she was doing this, but believing with her whole heart that it was right.

Rafe rarely thought about the future. The farthest his mind went was the next few minutes in front of him. It was his fatal flaw, acting for the moment and not for the moment after, or the version of himself that would face the consequences of his poor choices. Yet, in this moment, he had the keen sense that his next move would be a pivotal one, the gravity of it making his feet feel heavy on the stone pathway. He could stay, he could argue, scream your name until you came out and talked to him. But then what? Would he have the courage to follow through? Was he enough of a man to handle the weight of your expectation?

Ultimately, he knew the right thing was to stay and fight, but the easy thing would be to just go.

So, as he almost always did, Rafe made the easy choice.

“Okay,” he nodded to Carter. “I’ll let her go.”

“Thank you,” she said, voice shaking with the fear that if you knew what she just convinced him to do, you’d never forgive her. 

“I’m not doing it for you,” he made sure she knew before turning and climbing back into his truck.

Once in the driver’s seat, he pulled out his phone, looking at your name in his contacts. Like his fingers were moving without his mind’s permission, he deleted you. It didn’t matter really, he thought, he’d remember your number on his deathbed. He’d remember it all, and he’d hate himself forever for driving away.

Carter stayed on the porch, watching him go, praying desperately that you’d never find out she was the reason he left.

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“We’re gonna have to go back eventually,” you said.

Rafe sat behind you in the sand, holding you with his chin resting easy on your shoulder as you took in the sprawling pink sunrise together. 

“Says who?” He countered.

You smiled, craning your neck to look up at him. His eyelids were heavy, purple under the eyes from the exhaustion of being awake all night.

“You’re falling asleep,” you noticed.

“Yeah because some girl kept me up all night, begging me to take her to the beach and kiss her,” he joked.

“Excuse me, sir, this was your idea!” You sat up and stretched, your words making him laugh despite his immediate discomfort at the loss of your body in his arms. “What time is it anyway?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “my phone’s in the car.”

“Mine too,” you chuckled, “I hope Carter’s okay. She was looking rough before we left.”

He had half a mind to propose the two of you never leave the beach, but he could hear the genuine concern under your lighthearted words. He stood from the sand and dusted himself off, reaching out a hand to pull you to your feet. You took it with a smile, lingering for a moment as you stood, your hand in his, taking one last look around the beach, searching for some kind of landmark.

“What are you looking for?” He asked.

“I just want to remember exactly where we were,” you explained.

“Why, you wanna recreate it?” He smiled softly at you.

“Oh, I plan to recreate it many times,” you wink at him.

It took all his strength to leave that spot and head back to the car, back to the house full of people who weren’t you, back to reality.

“I can drive,” he suggested, planning to take the slowest route possible, and actually follow the speed limit for the first time in his life.

As soon as he started the car up, your CD started blasting through the speakers. You laughed at each other, the catalyst of this whole encounter feeling like it was days ago. The time on the car radio told you it’d only been about two hours. You lifted your phone but the screen remained black.

“Shit, it’s dead,” you told him, opening the glovebox and digging around for a charger.

While you were distracted, Rafe lifted his own phone from the cupholder he’d left it in. His screen did light up, displaying a slew of frantic texts from Topper and Kelce. He winced, wishing he hadn’t looked. He didn’t read the texts, not wanting whatever nonsense they were bothering him with to pop the blissful bubble wrapped around the two of you. He knew he shouldn’t start off your new…whatever this was…by lying to you, but he needed to stay in this happy place just a little longer.

“Mine’s dead too,” he lied, flipping the phone over in the cup holder to hide the screen.

“Of course Carter doesn’t have a charger,” you sighed, “she has like twenty hair ties and lipglosses, but no charger. Classic.”

“I know my way back,” he shrugged, “we’ll be good.”

Rafe put the car in reverse, backing out of the little side road with his arm on the seat next to your head. You watched the way he turned in his seat to look out the back window, neck muscles flexing with the stretch and his big hand manipulating the steering wheel with ease. 

For the first time in the sixteen years you’d known him, you didn’t try to hide your gaze as you took him in. The same attraction that used to make you feel skittish and ashamed now settled over you peacefully, like an icy winter finally melting into a warm, bright spring. You looked at him all you wanted, noting every detail, taking mental photographs of every inch of his skin.

You’d always thought he was cute - actually, no, you always thought he was hot as fuck - but now for the first time, you allowed yourself to look long enough to notice how beautiful he was. Pins and needles burst out all over your body as you realized how badly you needed to kiss him again.

Rafe could feel your eyes on him as he drove, choosing not to say anything and risk you looking away. He felt at home in your gaze, happier than he could ever remember being.

Inhibitions left back on the beach, you fearlessly reached out toward him, hand grazing gently over his jaw. You loved the ticklish little stubble that had grown there in just a few days without shaving. You smiled as you thought about the boy who could barely grow peach fuzz, now a man, strong and solid under your fingertips. Something warm and electric buzzed in your stomach, and you knew Rafe could feel it too, his skin heating under your tender touch.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, keeping his eyes on the road but leaning slightly into your hand to encourage you to keep touching him.

“Nothing,” you smiled, “I’ve just never gotten to look at you this long.”

“Is it making you change your mind?” He smirked, clearly not worried about the answer, his confidence making him impossibly sexier.

“Just the opposite,” you confirmed, “I think you’re always gonna have to drive from now on.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well now that I’ve gotten a good look I don’t think I could keep my eyes on the road. I always had the hardest time not looking over at you.”

Rafe grinned wide as your hand slipped from his jaw to the back of his head, fingers lacing in his soft hair, scratching his scalp lovingly. There was no rhyme or reason to your movements, but you didn’t care, you just needed your hands on him. He didn’t seem to mind, head leaning back into your palm to let you know he needed you as much as you needed him.

“I know you did,” he said.

“How?” You asked.

“Because I could never keep myself from looking over at you,” he confessed.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttered their way through your chest. Now you were certain- you’d never been more attracted to anyone as you were to him in this moment.

Rafe took your silent smile as a good sign, “did I get another A with that line?”

Your hand slid slowly down to his shoulder, over the ridges and ripples of his arms, flexing under your soft touch, until you found his hand, pulling it into your own. 

“Gold stars, baby,” you smiled.

Rafe’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, the air in the car becoming thicker by the second as he shifted in his seat. You beamed at him, realizing with a flurry of excitement - you had Rafe Cameron flustered.

“You like when I call you baby?” You purred, eager to see how far you could push it.

His grip tightened around your hand, “you can’t say shit like that to me when I’m driving.”

You could feel the dam breaking. You needed him. Now.

“Then pull over.”

He finally took his eyes off the road for a second at that, looking over at you for confirmation; are you serious? You gave him a steely, lustful look in return; as a heart attack.

Rafe practically popped a tire turning the wheel hard and pulling the car down a side street, driving until he found a little secluded enclave by the beach, a perfectly private spot. He threw the car in park, making you laugh at the jolt it gave with his urgency. He didn’t waste a second, reaching both hands over to grab your face and pull your lips to his.

You sighed into his mouth, no hesitancy holding you back from slipping your tongue between his lips. He pulled away just long enough to grit out a raspy, “come here,” before throwing his seatbelt off.

You unbuckled your own, holding tight to his shoulders as you swung your leg over the console and climbed, somewhat awkwardly, into his lap. Your head fell back in laughter as your butt accidentally pressed the horn, the sound blasting through the quiet morning air. Rafe laughed too, easing your slight embarrassment as he reached down to slide the seat back.

Once you had more room, you pulled back to get a better look at him. He looked up at you with wide blue eyes, so gentle and kind in the way they took you in. Rafe reached up and brushed your hair over your shoulder, taking a deep breath as his hands grazed your shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispered to fill the silence.

You cracked the slightest smile, unable to repress your amusement.

“What?” He puzzled.

“I just didn’t imagine you to be so…sweet like this,” you explained, though you hated how the words sounded coming out of your mouth, afraid it would sound like a criticism and cause him to withdraw.

“Only for you,” he said.

“Uh oh,” you teased, hands laying flat over his chest as you leaned forward, relieved you hadn’t ruined the moment after all, “is big bad Rafe Cameron going weak for me?”

“He always has been,” he nodded, his dimples creasing his cheeks with his sheepish smile.

You slid your hands up to either side of his face, thumbs dipping into his dimples. You’d always wanted to do that. You couldn’t believe that after all that waiting and longing, you really could just lean forward and kiss him if you wanted to. 

So you did, like you were trying to prove to yourself that this was actually real. The second your lips met his, you could tell he was thinking the same exact thing.

Rafe’s hands gripped your hips as he sat up off the seat just slightly to meet your mouth fervently. You bent over him, your hair falling in a curtain around his face. His hands felt so good, so right, warm and strong against you. You smiled into the kiss as you could feel them sliding so slowly, reverently, over your curves, until they found a home on your lower back, bringing you forward to rest fully against him. It was the same gentle control he had taken on the jetski, and it was addictive.

He was hard, you could feel him firm beneath you, and your head flooded with lustful thoughts. You rolled your body just slightly against him, but he felt every second of it, his hands sliding lower until he was kneading the flesh of your ass. Breathless, you paused, forehead against, another roll of your body as you pressed into him.

“Do you want me to stop?” He breathed, chest rising and falling with heavy pants.

“No, don’t, I’ve wanted this for so long,” it came out more desperate than you planned, but you didn’t care, you needed him to know.

“Me too, kid, you have no idea,” he smiled.

Your nose scrunched, pulling back to look at him with narrow eyes, “kid? Really?”

“Well you don’t like when I call you baby, so…”

“That is not what I said,” you laughed, “I said don’t say things you don’t mean. You can call me whatever you want, as long as you mean it”

“In that case…” he leaned in again, hands on either side of your face as his lips met yours before pulling away to meet your eyes as he said, “hey baby.”

You melted into him, his hands cradling your head the only thing keeping you grounded to the planet. He littered your face and jaw with slow, deliberate kisses, working his way toward your neck as he whispered more sweet pet names into your skin.

“Beautiful,” with a kiss to your jaw, “angel,” with a kiss to your neck, just below your ear, “my girl,” with a kiss to your collarbone, lingering to suck on the skin right at the base of your neck, marking you lightly.

Your whole body pulled him in tighter, dizzy with the ecstasy of having him like this. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging just hard enough to tell him how good he was making you feel. You couldn’t resist but push down into his hardness, muscles tense as his lips tickled the sensitive skin around the collar of your shirt.

“Rafe…” you sighed out as he continued to suck lip shaped marks into you, his hands kneading your ass, arms strong around you like he alone was the one keeping you tethered to the earth.

He pulled away from you just far enough to look you in the eyes, his pupils blown out. There was a kind of darkness in his eyes, sending excitement, and maybe even a touch of fear, shooting through your body. You wondered what would happen if he dropped the gentleness and really seized control, longing to be the one to send him to that place.

“Are you?” He whispered. Hunger, lust, and some more vulnerable third thing laced the deep tenor of his voice as his eyes searched yours, “are you my girl?”

His brows were furrowed so tight with intensity, you worried he was gonna give himself a headache. 

You ran your thumb over the scrunched skin on his forehead, smoothing it out, gentle but firm. You continued to run your fingers over his face, both to put him at ease and to buy yourself time, the answer to his question stuck somewhere in your chest, unwilling or unable to make its way to your tongue.

“I…” you started, the worry growing back on his face at the sound of your hesitation.

Before you could finish the thought, a loud DING! rang out through the quiet car, making you both jump.

“I thought you said your phone was dead?” You questioned, more edge to your tone than you’d meant, frustration over the interruption seeping into your words.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I just wanted more time with you.”

“It’s okay,” you said, a bit non-committal in your forgiveness. “Who is it?”

Rafe sighed as he retrieved his phone from the cupholder, reading the most recent message.

“It’s Top,” he answered, “he’s saying we should get back to the house but won’t say why. So dramatic.”

You chuckled softly, relief washing through Rafe at the return of your smile.

“We should probably go then,” you said, “if for no other reason than I’m nosy and want to know what’s going on.”

He nodded slowly, hands reluctantly letting you go “we’ll come back to this, though, right?”

You knew he meant more than just the kiss and your intimate position in Carter’s front seat. He meant this; the big ‘What Are We?’

Never in a million years would you have guessed that he’d be the one posing the question, or that you’d have this hard of a time coming up with the answer.

(Chapter 8: part two)

a/n: entering my 'posting what's ready when it's ready and not caring about word count' era, welcome!!

please note, i've closed the taglist for this story. to be first to know when i post please follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifications 💘

[chiisana-lion]

feeling absolutely pathetic for no reason again this thursday afternoon 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[pathologicalreid]

here with me | s.r.

four times Spencer feels out of place in your house after being released from prison, and one time it's like he never left

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, post prison, crying, stephen walker's death, non-specified illness, baking, kissing word count: 3.58k a/n: i love this fic format i have been wanting to do it for ages. and here we are. as always-tell me how you feeeeeeeel

“I wanna stay home,” your daughter whined from her place at the kitchen table. She periodically reached to her sister’s high chair so that she could steal blueberries from her plate.

You hummed, pouring the egg mixture into the preheated skillet, “We played hooky yesterday, bub. We’ve gotta go back to school today.” Using a silicone spatula, you started to scramble the eggs.

She grumbled unintelligibly, dramatically sliding down the chair, “Livvy gets to stay home.”

Turning down the heat on the stove, you went around the counter and crouched in front of your five-year-old, “Well, Livvy’s two, and before you ask, Finn’s not going to school either.”

“Finn’s a baby, mom. He can’t go to school,” she told you proudly.

You frowned at your daughter, “It’s hard to be the oldest, honey. We can’t keep staying home.” Ruffling her hair affectionately, you get up from the floor and go back to the stove, you continue scrambling the eggs.

To your eldest, going back to kindergarten was a fate worse than death. It wasn’t strictly that she didn’t want to go to school, it was that she didn’t want to leave home. The sniffle from the table lets you know that this morning was going to be harder than you initially anticipated. “I wanna stay with daddy,” she cried, kicking her legs at the table.

Turning off the heat, you set the pan on a trivet before going back to the table, “I know,” you responded. Every time you thought you had run out of tears, new ones managed to find their way out.

Of your three kids, Eleanor was old enough to really feel Spencer’s absence. To your dismay, she ended up bearing some of the burden of her father being gone for three months. After staying with your parents for a few days, she was finally reunited with her dad yesterday morning, and they had been nearly inseparable since.

“Oh, Nell,” you sighed, cupping her cheeks in your hands, “I don’t know if daddy has plans today. He has a lot of stuff that needs to be done.

Pulling away from your touch, she frantically wiped the tears from her eyes, “I can do stuff too,” she whimpered.

She unwound your resolve like a ball of yarn, “I know you can, honey. I just…” you faltered. You had let her miss so much school over the last three months that the school had sent letters home, “We’ll just have to see.”

You sighed helplessly, standing back up and smiling softly at Olivia, who had successfully gotten blueberry juice everywhere. Returning to the kitchen, you put some scrambled eggs on Eleanor’s plate and put more in a bowl for Olivia, setting it aside to cool more before you give it to your toddler.

Putting the pan in the sink, you flipped on the tap before starting to clean it. While you kept a watchful eye on the baby monitor, you didn’t notice Spencer come downstairs and walk into the kitchen. In fact, you were completely unaware of his presence until he spoke, “Can I help with anything?”

You lost your grip on the pan, sending soapy water flying all over the kitchen as you frantically tried to catch the handle. Eleanor either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Olivia thought it was hilarious. “Oh,” you breathed as Spencer reached over and turned off the water, “You scared me.”

The two of you shared a timid glance, his hand ghosting over your waist as he walked past you to where the girls were sitting.

Biting the dead skin off of your lips, you finished rinsing the pan before setting it on a drying mat. You were wiping down the countertop when Finn finally woke up, and you dropped everything to go get him from his crib, almost like you were running on autopilot.

Unzip the sleep sack. Change the diaper. Get dressed. Cuddle him. Every morning. In that order.

Resting the groggy baby on your hip, you made your way back downstairs and into the kitchen, starting the bottle warmer and listening to the conversation between Spencer and Nellie.

“What if you go to school today, but on Friday we can both take the day off? We could go out for lunch,” he offered, crouching down so he was at her level.

She looked pointedly over at Olivia, who was happily eating the eggs that you assumed Spencer had given her, now thoroughly doused in ketchup, “Just us?”

Spencer nodded reassuringly, “If it’s okay with mommy, we can have a daddy and Nellie day.” He reached out tentatively and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, everything about him seemed so timid.

You looped around the kitchen table, ruffling Olivia’s hair before doing the same to Eleanor’s and even Spencer’s, which made Olivia giggle.

“Can I?” Spencer asked, nodding his head to the bottle that you had just grabbed from the warmer.

Blinking absently for a moment, you eventually nodded, handing Finn over to his dad along with the bottle, watching as Spencer cradled him, walking him around the kitchen while his bottle was clamped between his tiny hands. “Hey, girls, time to get dressed,” you said, forcing yourself to peel your eyes off of your husband.

Eleanor groaned but got up anyway, trudging up the steps while you followed with Olivia in your arms, feeling like you were missing something without Finn also in tow.

Nell made her way back down first, sitting on the couch and watching her dad, keeping an eye on him like she was afraid he was going to disappear before her very eyes. “Daddy?” She whispered, her voice barely audible from your place at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah?” He asked, you heard the sound of him setting the bottle in the sink.

She’s quiet for a moment before responding, “I missed you.”

Spencer’s footsteps stopped abruptly, “I missed you too, lovebug.”

You started to make your way down the stairs, letting Olivia go down on her own now that she wasn’t covered in blueberry. Eleanor looked at you with big eyes before helping her sister climb up on the couch. “Finny, Finny, Finny,” Olivia echoed.

Zipping up Eleanor’s school lunch in her bag, you sighed, hoping you were doing the right thing by sending her to school. “Hey, Nell,” you said, checking a new message on your phone, “Mrs. Jareau is here.”

JJ’s carpools had saved you multiple times while Spencer was in prison, you were just grateful she was willing to continue them.

Normally, she’d run out the door at the prospect of being able to talk to Henry, but this time she lingered by the front door, holding her backpack straps in her hands and staring at her dad, “Will you be here when I get home?”

He looked at you, a thousand emotions flashing in his brown eyes, and he squatted in front of her, “I’ll be here,” he said, holding out his pinky finger to interlock with her much smaller one. “I promise,” he said, kissing her forehead before standing up.

Once you knew she was off to school, you made sure Olivia was settled in on the couch and Finn was in his bouncer before going back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. You were placing dishes in the dishwasher when Spencer came back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning against the countertop and handing you a bowl to put on the top rack.

Taking the bowl, you didn’t look at him as you placed it in the dishwasher before putting a tablet in and pressing the start button, “I wish you’d stop apologizing.”

He stepped slightly closer to you, “I know. It’s just… watching you handle all three of them in the morning. It’s incredible,” he praised you. “I left you alone,” he said mournfully.

You shrugged, having never really thought of it that way, “You didn’t leave me alone. I had them,” you said, nodding in the direction of the living room, where Finn and Olivia were having a conversation that only the two of them could understand.

You sighed in relief as the shower water washed over you, an early afternoon shower just before Eleanor got home from school, the little ones were down for their naps, and you had to race against time before one of them woke up. It didn’t give you a lot of time to just sit under the running water, but you’d have enough time to wash your hair before you needed to pause the shower.

You had narrowly avoided disaster this morning when the girls’ breakfasts had been mixed up. Thankfully, you navigated a toddler meltdown that was triggered by the appearance of ham in her eggs. Poor Spencer was still confused even after you explained to him that she wouldn’t eat ham because it’s pink and pink is her favorite color.

It wasn’t something that made a lot of sense to you either, but the only person that it needed to make sense to was your two-year-old.

Rinsing your hair, you remembered how happy Spencer had been when he got Finn down last night. He’d spent the day talking about how babies don’t start to really recognize faces until they’re around four months old, and that was about how old he was when Spencer left.

Finn knew his dad. He’d even started reaching out for him when he wanted to be held but feeling comfortable enough to be put down for the night by him—it felt like a milestone.

The crying started right after you finished rinsing your hair, you quickly shut off the water and grabbed your towel off of the hook. Wrapping it around yourself, you dried off your feet before opening the bathroom. Sometimes when Finn cried while you were in the shower, you’d just bring him in with you to finish, but when you opened the door, his tears were already waning.

Spencer had gotten to him first, scooping him out of the crib in your room and holding him to his chest, “Hey, buddy,” he cooed softly, “What’s wrong?”

The baby chattered in response, gripping the cotton of Spencer’s t-shirt in his tiny fists and wiping his tears away.

“You’re alright,” Spencer whispered, placing him on your bed to undo his sleep sack, smiling at his son when he kicked his legs once freed. “You just wanted to be held, huh? Your sister was the same way when she was a baby,” he said.

Nell. He was remembering Nell as a baby, who slept best when she was being held and would cry if you were out of her line of sight.

Spencer turned around, stopping in his tracks when he saw you in the doorway, “Did you finish?”

You’d been caught, “Oh. Could you get a new soap from the hall closet? We’re out,” you fibbed, mindful of the way your hair was still dripping wet.

He frowned, “I just put a new one in this morning. Did you look on the caddy?”

Blinking, you shook your head, “No, my bad.”

You had already started closing the door when he called for you, “Honey?”

Pausing, you peeked out the door to look at him, “Yeah?”

“I’m here,” he told you, something urgent in his tone.

Your face warmed, the reminder of his presence making your heart race, “I—” you faltered, “I know.”

You had managed to get Nell out the door without a fight this morning with the promise of her father-daughter date tomorrow. Olivia was settled with her toys in your line of sight and Finn was in a sling. The baby hadn’t slept well last night, and you were fairly certain that he had a new tooth poking through. He seemed fine now, catching up on sleep while you wiped down the kitchen.

Spencer was across from you, filling out some required papers for his reinstatement hearing. He hadn’t fully committed to seeking reinstatement until you brought it up. Frankly, you were horrified by the fact that Spencer was under the impression that you would ask him to leave the BAU for any reason.

“What do you have planned today?” Spencer asked you, still focusing on the papers while making gentle conversation with you.

You raised your eyebrows briefly, “Really awesome exciting stuff.” You took a sip of your coffee before adjusting Finn’s sling. Very slowly, you were beginning to find a new routine with Spencer and the kids in the morning. Spencer was learning about everything that had changed, and you were learning how to give him more responsibilities around the house.

You needed to let go of the notion that you were still alone. Spencer hummed in response, laughing at your blatant oversell, “Like what?”

Smiling, you dried your hands on a tea towel before standing next to him, distracting him from his paperwork with the cuteness of a sleeping baby. “There is so much dirty laundry in this house,” you told him, “I’m surprised anyone has any clean clothes.”

“Anything else?” Spencer asked, placing one hand gently on your hip and pressing a tentative kiss to your lips.

You hesitated, “Uh, cooking?”

He looked at you curiously, “Cooking for what?”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you looked over at Olivia, making sure she was preoccupied before answering, “Monica and the kids.”

Realization dawned over Spencer’s face, “Oh,” he breathed. It didn’t surprise you that Spencer had conflicting feelings about Stephen’s death, given that he hadn’t known him that well prior to his arrest, but he and his family had grown close to you in your husband’s absence.

You nodded, “There’s a meal train thing going on for them, so I was going to make some stuff and drop it there later.” Tentatively, you smoothed Spencer’s hair back, needing something to do with your hands, “Maya used to babysit a lot when I needed extra hands. I just want to feel like I’m returning the favor.”

“Can I come with you?” Spencer asked, tilting his head back to look up at you.

Smiling softly at him, you answered, “Of course.” You sniffled, “If we time it right, we could pick Nell up from school at the end of the day.”

He squeezed your hip comfortingly, “I love you.”

You leaned down and kissed him again, “I love you too.”

The chattering woke you up, Finn in his crib talking to himself as you glared at the alarm clock. It was just past three in the morning, and the second thing you noticed was that you were alone in your bed.

You sat up in a panic, worried you had dreamt the past few weeks until your eyes found Spencer’s watch sitting on his nightstand. Rubbing your eyes, you dragged yourself out of bed before getting Finn from his crib, taking his sleep sack off to make him easier to hold, “Hey,” you whispered, “Let’s go find daddy.”

It didn’t take you long, Spencer was sitting on the floor in the hallway, his knees bent to his chest as he looked into Nell’s room, her space nightlight providing a soft glow into the hallway.

“If you move to the left about a foot, you can see both of them at the same time,” you informed him.

He listened, shifting over so that he could see Eleanor and Olivia at the same time, both of them sleeping peacefully in their beds. Spencer looked up at you, “Why do you know that?”

You slid down the wall, taking a seat next to him and settling Finn lengthwise along your thighs, “At the beginning of March, Nell brought home a virus from school and gave it to Liv, and then one of them gave it to Finn. So, I’d sit out here in the hallway and watch the girls with Finny in my lap,” you told him, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Just so I’d be nearby if any of them needed anything,” you kept your voice at a whisper, rocking your legs in hopes that it would soothe Finn back to sleep.

Spencer didn’t respond for a moment, thinking through what you had said before finally speaking up, “No one told me they’d been sick.”

Humming, you smoothed the baby’s hair back, keeping it out of his face, “I didn’t tell anyone.” To this day, no one else knew that you had juggled three sick kids at once, “I lied to JJ and told her that I was keeping Nell home for a few days, and she didn’t push for more information.” No one had pushed you for anything in the past three months.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” Spencer asked, leaning his head on yours and resting a hand on your knee.

You didn’t want to, quite honestly. You hadn’t wanted to have to call your mom or anyone from the BAU when you needed help because it felt like an admission of sorts. Admitting that Spencer was gone long-term and that you were a solo parent. “I don’t know,” you lied, “I felt like I had something to prove to the world.”

Spencer swallowed thickly next to you, “Did it work?”

Shaking your head, you sighed a breath of relief at his presence, “No.”

He was quiet for a while, likely wallowing in a pit of guilt that he had been constructing for weeks, “We should get him back to bed.”

“Spence?” You whispered, closing your eyes and listening to the sounds of your quiet house, “Can we just stay like this for a little while?”

Humming a confirmation, Spencer placed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, leaving his hand resting on your knee while the two of you remained in the hallway, enjoying each other’s company.

“We should’ve done cupcakes,” you said mournfully, turning on the oven light to see that there was something very off about the cake you’d put in the oven.

Spencer hummed, looking at the recipe again to see if there was something you had missed, “Why didn’t we do cupcakes?”

You huffed, “The Pinterest photo I found was of a cake.” It was a perfect cake, complete with a purple graduation cap made out of fondant that you could put on the top. The only problem was you had severely overestimated your baking abilities.

“So,” Spencer started, “It’s your fault.”

Scoffing, you tapped his chest with a silicone spatula, “It’s the fault of whoever posted the original photo!”

Spencer smiled at you, a dopey look in his eyes despite it being one in the morning. “We should’ve asked Penelope to do the cake,” he told you, flipping over the recipe you had printed out.

“We can make a cake,” you retorted, you were throwing a very small party for Nell’s last day of kindergarten—the first time you’ve invited a group over since Spencer was arrested. “You have three PhDs and you don’t think you can bake a cake?”

He raised his eyebrows at you, “This might come as a surprise to you, but none of my coursework ever involved baking.”

You grinned at him, “That does surprise me, it’s basically chemistry,” you challenged.

Spencer rolled his eyes, “Okay, come here,” he said, pulling you into his arms by the fabric of your t-shirt.

Realization fell over you as you scrambled to get away, “No! You’re gonna put frosting on my nose again.” It would be his second offense of the evening.

He followed you into the living room where you tripped over a toy truck, causing you to fall to the ground. When he offered a hand to help you up, you tugged him to the floor, causing one of the balloons that you had previously blown up to pop.

You covered your mouth to muffle your giggles, waiting to see if the noise had woken any of the kids up.

The kids were all so happy to have Spencer back, but your stomach twisted at the realization that this was the first night you’d really felt like you had Spencer back. You loved the kids, but you haven’t had a moment without them since February.

“Hey,” you said to Spencer, rolling over and flinging a balloon at him for good measure.

Carefully, you rested your chin on his chest, staring at him while he tried to calm his own laughter, “Hi,” he said back, ruffling your hair affectionately.

You took a deep breath before speaking up again, “I missed you.”

You hadn’t said it yet. You’d developed some misconstrued fear of making him feel guilty if you’d told him just how much you missed him, but it was the truth. You missed him. He smiled softly down at you, almost as if he had been waiting for you to say the words. “I missed you too,” he whispered.

Slowly, you lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to his, kissing him. It was more than any of the quick pecks you’d shared in the last few weeks, it was real. His hands dug into your waist as if he was afraid you were going to disappear, but you stayed there. You stayed with him, and you always would.

Up until the timer for the cake went off, your phone buzzing in your pocket when you finally pulled away. Breathing heavily, Spencer asked, “Is it too late to ask Penelope to do the cake?”

[ovulationation]

Big Girl

Pairing: bfd!Joel x reader

Summary: Joel Miller gets called to pick you and his drunken daughter up from a party. With a week left before you leave for college, Joel doesn’t think you’re ready for it.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p-in-v (wrap it up, folks), daddy kink, praise, kitchen, creampie, best friend’s dad, age gap (reader is 19, Joel is around 40)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Sarah had been inseparable since kindergarten. You did everything together. Every all nighter, every time you needed a new dress for a school dance, every new trend you did together. Sarah’s parents worked a lot so she spent almost all her extra time at your house.

When high school came around things started changing. Sarah’s mom left and her dad threw himself into his work. Sarah started going wild and you went right along with her. You started sneaking out, hooking up with boys, and partying every weekend. You both graduated high school (barely) and somehow made it into the same college. With only a week left until you moved into your dorm. Everyone was throwing the last parties of the summer, eager to get last memories with their high school friends.

That’s how you got where you are now, the loud blaring of the speakers as you danced in the random basement of the night. Sarah was beyond tipsy, dancing on the beer pong table while the guys all ogled her body in her short skirt and tight top. You were, unfortunately, the designated driver of the evening. Leaving you with the slightest buzz that had all but faded away.

You pulled out your phone, cursing when you saw the time.

“We gotta go, babe,” you yelled to Sarah over the thumping bass of the speakers.

Sarah look down at you with a pout as you grabbed her arm and helped her onto the dirt floor. Her white sneakers landed in a puddle of something spilled and you winced.

“Don’t wanna,” she whined, throwing her head back for dramatic effect.

You patted her back as you pushed her through the crowd in front of you.

“I know but your dad is gonna be getting home soon and we gotta get back before he realizes we’re gone.”

Sarah groaned as you push her up the stairs of the basement and into the backyard. You led her to the car as you fished around in your handbag.

“Fuck,” you groan and lean your forehead against the window.

Sarah didn’t hear you, too busy flirting with some grimy Super Senior™ to realize you had somehow lost the keys to her shiny new graduation gift.

You pull her away from the walking STD, and pull her back to the car.

“I lost the keys, I need you to keep your hand right here and Don’t. Move.” You spoke slowly, pushing her hand against the hood of the car. She nodded slowly with drooping eyelids then giggled.

“You look soooo funny when you’re serious.” She laughed and stumbled. You shoot her a half serious glare and head back into the basement to search for the keys.

After fifteen minutes of searching the dirty floor with your phone flashlight and trying to shout at people through the loud music, you come back up victoriously holding the keys in your hand. Your victory doesn’t last long when you see Sarah standing next to the car, and her dad next to her.

“Oh shit,” you groan as you walk up to them.

“Oh shit is right,” Joel glares down at you, Sarah draped against his shoulder.

“I called my dad to help,” Sarah giggled.

“I can explain-“

“In. Now.” Joel growls, pointing to his truck.

You just nod and walk over to the car. Joel drags Sarah into the back seat where she promptly passes out. You jump into the front seat and Joel gets into the driver seat, grumpily buckling up and peeling out of the driveway.

The drive back is tense. Only the sounds of Sarah snoring and the low grumble of the road. Joel occasionally glances at you then back at the road, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. You pull down your tight fitting dress. Maybe he’ll go easier on you if you don’t look like you belong on a street corner.

The car pulls into the driveway and Joel pulls Sarah out. You walk behind him as he carries her into her bedroom. Every glare he throws your way makes you duck your head more.

You can’t remember a time when you saw him this mad, but you were usually sneakier than this. You guys had never gotten caught, you always got home on time and made sure any evidence was gone before a parent could find it. Usually you would be back at your house with your sweet, but unfortunately super gullible parents who didn’t think you and Sarah could ever do anything wrong.

You helped Sarah into some pajamas and hoped to sneak out of the front door. You carefully walked through the living room, trying your hardest not to make any noise. The sound of a cupboard slamming shut behind you has you almost jumping out of your skin. You jump around, looking straight at Joel.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Miller.” You immediately start.

“Look, I understand. You’re 19, you think it’s cool to go to parties,” Joel starts, his expression hard. He leans back against the counter, gesturing to the stool across from him. You scurry over and sit, pulling the hem of your dress down. “But this shit is dangerous. Y’all getting drunk and being around all those hormonal boys or God forbid getting behind a wheel.”

“I’m not drunk,” You argue, but one look from Joel has you shrinking back in your seat.

“You’re leaving in a week and you have no idea the shit that college boys think,” he crosses his arms across his chest. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up to his elbows showing off his muscular forearms.

“I’m a big girl I can handle it.” You shoot back with a bite.

His eyebrows raise at your tone and he pushes off the counter to stand at his full height. Looking down at your smaller frame on the stool.

You can feel a wave of rebellion coarse through you as you look up at him. Sarah spent most of her time over the years at your house so you never really got to know Joel. You would see him in passing or at big life events for Sarah, but you rarely had to deal with him one on one. The fact that he could just stand there and scold you like a child when he didn’t even know you made anger bubble up inside you.

“You’re a big girl?” He steps closer to you.

You nod, suddenly feeling like prey being hunted

“Y-yes,” you stumble.

“You don’t sound too sure, Darlin,” he smirks down at you.

His eyes travel down, down to the hem of your too-tight dress that had made its way dangerously close to the top of your thighs. You cross your legs and squeeze your thighs together, hoping to shield yourself from his sight and hoping to stop the dull ache that had started to form.

“These aren’t the boys you’re used to dealing with, these are men. Can you handle a man?”

You bite your lip at his words. Maybe you were drunk. There’s no way q your best friend’s dad was standing less than a foot in front of you, undressing you with those brown eyes. There’s no way he was flirting with you after chastising you not even a minute ago. There’s no way you were enjoying it.

You nod up at him. “I can handle a man.”

He grins down at you, “prove it.”

Those two words set something ablaze in you. In a flash you’re snaking your arms around his neck and bringing his mouth to yours greedily. He returns it hungrily, wrapping his arms around your back.

You stumble off the stool and his hands are immediately on your ass. You let out a little yelp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You gasp into the kiss, breathing him in as he explores every inch of your tongue.

His hands grip your ass, supporting you as you jump back onto the counter, leaving him stand in in between your spread legs. The hard bulge in the front of his pants rubs again you and he lets out a low groan against your lips.

He detaches his lips from yours, dragging them down your neck. He ruts softly against your clothed core, making you whimper and close your eyes. He growls against your neck, continuing his assault. You reach down to the front of his pants, sloppily undoing his belt.

Your hand slithers into his pants, wrapping around his impressive length. Your thumb grazes over his silky tip and he hisses, pulling back. He grabs your wrist

“Not yet, baby,” he mutters, starting to slowly kiss his way down your neck.

“Need it,” You whine, trying to pull him back to you with your legs.

His hands move to your thighs, pushing them apart to stop them from pulling him in. He pulls back and looks down at you, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen. He pushes the hem of your dress up to your waist, revealing the black lacy panties that you wore for the party.

He drops to his knees, staring at the little pretty pink bow sitting on the front. His eyes never leave yours as he takes the bow between his teeth, pulling it back and then letting go. Letting it snap back to your skin. You feel yourself clench around nothing beneath the fabric and bite your swollen bottom lip.

“Look at that bow,” he groans, pushing his face forward again. His nose rubs against the bow as he presses a kiss directly to your clothed clit. “You’re like a present, wrapped up for me.”

“Mr. Miler please,” you gasp, not sure how much more you can take.

“Please what, baby,” He presses another kiss to the same spot.

“Please just do something,” Your lips parting in a needy whine. You try to move your hips forward, desperate for more, but his hold on your thighs tightens, stilling your movements. You groan in frustration.

Joel slips his fingers into the side of your panties, stretching them and pulling them aside. He lets out a groan as he sees you finally. Your swollen pink folds slick with your own arousal. He presses another kiss, this time to your bare clit. You gasp and tug in his hair, he lets out a growl.

“You taste so sweet, darlin,”

His tongue darts out to tease around your bundle of nerves, licking circles around it but never hitting it where you want. You pant above him, letting out little whimpers as he teases you.

His hand moves travels from your thigh to your stomach. His fingers splay out against your skin and pushes you back until your back hits the cold granite.

Your fingers tug hard when his lips latch around your clit, suckling against it as his tongue massages the bud.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, bringing a hand up to your mouth to muffle your noises.

His hand that isn’t pinning you down into the countertop makes its way down. You feel a finger prod at your entrance and you gasp.

His finger slips in easily to your soaked hole. You bite down on your hand, trying to keep yourself from being too loud. You lift your head up, looking down at where he’s connected to you and find him looking directly at you. Your walls clench around him at the sight.

He slips another finger in, slowly thrusting them into you. Those brown pupils are blown wide in desire as he watched you whine, trying to grind down on him. He scissors those thick fingers inside of you and you moan, squeezing them.

He groans against your clit, sending vibrations up through your body like the best vibrator money could buy. You feel that ball starting to tighten deep in your abdomen.

“C-close, Joel, so close,” you gasp, groaning when that hand stops you from grinding against his face.

“Gonna cum on my fingers?” He asks, mouth still attached to your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Yes, yes, please,” you moan.

His fingers curl inside you, hitting that sensitive, spongey spot. That quickly sends you over the edge, your walls clamp down, fluttering around his fingers. You bite your hand, a few moans still coming through.

He continues to massage that spot inside you and suck on your sensitive clit, far past the last aftershock of your orgasm. You let out whimpers about him, your hands that were pulling on his scalp now trying to push him away as he licks up the last of your arousal. You pull him up and away from your sensitive core.

He brings the back of his hand up to his mouth, wiping away the slick left behind. His eyes never leave yours for a second.

You sit back up, your hands flying back to the front of his jeans. You push them down, his thick length popping out. You bite your lip at the sight.

“Like what you see?”

You look back up at Joel, a smirk on his face. You didn’t want to play, you just felt hot need pulsing through your veins.

You look directly into his eyes as you wrap your hand around him, pumping slowly. His smirk wavers at your light touch. You sweep your thumb across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum.

His breath hitches as he watches you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking the droplet. He groans deep in his throat at the sight. You grin up at him.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he growls, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock and resting it against your puffy folds. The underside of him rubs against your sensitive clit.

“Please fuck me,” you pout up at him. His face goes back to your throat, kissing and suckling the soft flesh.

“You want my cock, baby?” He groans at the base of your throat.

“Yes, please give it to me,” you whine. He slides through your slick folds, lubricating himself with your arousal. His tip hitches against your clit and you moan into his ear, clutching at his shoulders.

“Please, Joel, please,” you beg desperately.

He pulls back and grins at your flushed face, “love hearing you beg for me, sweetheart.”

He hands massage your thighs, pushing them apart. You grab the base of his dick, guiding the fat head towards where you need it most. You’re both panting, watching as he notches himself against your entrance.

He slowly starts to ease himself in, stretching you inch by delicious inch. You can’t remember the last time, if ever, you were stretched like this. He was right, you were dealing with men now. And you loved it.

You bite your lip to stifle your moan as he bottoms out inside you. He stills, panting but never taking his eyes off where you’re connected. His lips swollen in a pant as he throbs inside of you. You place slow kisses along his chest, urging him to move.

He groans as he pulls back, then snaps his hips forward. You whimper at the feeling.

“Taking me like a fucking champ, baby.” He praises and you clench around him, whining pitifully. “Taking it like such a big girl.”

You whine as he uses your earlier words against you. His hand pushes you back onto the countertop as he lazily thrusts into you. His hand wrapping around your dress bunched up at your waist. His other hand wraps around your ankle, bringing it up and over his shoulder, then the other one.

The new angle causes him to push his tip into that sensitive spot inside you. You let out a louder moan at the feeling.

“F-fuck,” you gasp, clenching around him. You feel that ball inside you start to tighten again.

“I’m not gonna last much,” you stop to moan again, as he kisses your calf. “Not gonna last much longer.”

The hand wrapped around your dress pulls you forward, making him reach deeper into you.

“Gonna cum all over my cock?” He groans down at you, using your dress as a handle to pull you back onto him over and over again as his pace picks up.

You nod and whimper.

His free hand snakes down to rub your clit in tight little circles, making you squirm under him and moan.

“Come on, baby, cum all over daddy’s cock.” He groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy and you know that he’s holding back on his own impending release.

His hand comes up to cover your mouth, his other hands still rubbing furiously against your sensitive nub. Something deep inside you snaps and send you tumbling over the edge, your vision going white as you clench around him hard. His thick cock still pistoning deep inside you.

His hand does little to muffle your moans and instead he pushes his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue wraps around him and you suckle greedily on the digit.

He groans at the sight, his hips snapping harder against yours.

“Not gonna last much longer, darlin,” his voice hitches when you graze your teeth along his thumb. “Where d’you want it?”

You let his thumb slip out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ and bite your lip. “Want it inside me, daddy.” You say, giving him a fucked out look.

His hips stumble as he looks at your pouty, swollen lips and wide eyes. “Want me to fill you up?”

You nod, his thumb still resting on your bottom lip, “please.” You beg.

He leans down, capturing your lips in his as he gives a few more sloppy, fast strokes. Then groaning into your mouth as he stills deep inside you, spilling his release into you.

You gasp as you feel the warmth spread through you, reaching deeper and deeper inside you. You swallow his moans, letting him rut inside you lazily as he comes down from his high.

He raises back up, pulling out of you. You’re so sensitive that you let out a quiet whimper at the feeling. He grabs a rag warm rag and starts slowly cleaning you.

Silence hangs in the air around you. You’re suddenly aware of everything that just happened. You just fucked your best friend’s dad. Your best friend’s dad just fucked you. Your best friend’s dad just made you cum twice on their kitchen counter.

And they were the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

He doesn’t say anything, just shoves himself back into his pants and fixes his clothes. You pull your panties back into place and shove your dress back down as far as you can while still seated on the counter.

“I’m on the pill.” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“Oh,” he grunts. “That’s good.”

“So we don’t need to worry about that,” you trail off.

The sound of a door squeaking open down the hall causes you to jump off of the counter. Fully pulling your dress back into place, you practically jump away from each other, standing on opposite sides of the island he just defiled you on.

Sarah stumbles into the kitchen, swaying back and forth. Running into one wall and pushing off of it just to run into another one. She stops when she sees both of you.

“I’m not drunk,” she slurs, pointing a finger at Joel. She pulls the handle of the fridge open far harder than needed, grabbing a bottle of water, and slams it closed again.

She turns around on wobbly legs, then stops and glares at him again.

“You weren’t being mean to her were you?” She points a shaky finger towards you.

He smirks and darts his eyes over to yours, his eyes raking back down your body. “No, I was very nice to her.”

You shudder under his gaze.

“Good,” Sarah stumbles over to you, grabbing you in a too-tight hug and starts to drag you down the hall to her room. Her drunken, tear-filled voice travels back to the kitchen “Cause she’s my best friend and no one is allowed to be mean to her or I’LL FUCK THEM UP.”

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Note: this is literally the first thing I have ever written, if you’ve made it this far thank you so much!! (I’m usually not this freakay I promise)

[coraniaid]

I don't think I believe that people in Sunnydale High School think of the Scooby Gang as "Buffy Summers and her weird friends".

I mean, yes, they know Buffy is (more than) a bit weird and has a history of violence, and they know that she's often at the center of lots of strange things that happen in the school. But if you forget what you know about vampires and the Slayer and look at the dynamics and personal histories of that group from the outside, there's exactly one person who connects them all together. And it's not the (ex?) arsonist and (ex?) gang member who recently transferred to Sunnydale from LA.

Everyone in Sunnydale High seems to know Willow Rosenberg, and everyone knows she's a huge nerd who (A) love libraries and (B) has something of a history of either tutoring (e.g. Rodney Muson) or otherwise hanging out with (e.g. Shelia Martini) some of the school's more violent and dangerous elements.

There's Xander Harris, Willow's best friend since kindergarten (and who, unlike Willow, doesn't really seem to have many other friends at all after Jesse mysteriously vanishes)

There's the (weirdly religious?) ex-aronist from LA who Willow seems to be tutoring in the library a lot (see B above) or who she's possibly recruited as muscle. Sheila and Rodney both mysteriously went missing one day too, so people aren't that surprised when Buffy does herself at the end of junior year.

There's the English librarian (see A above) that anyone who has seen Willow's locker knows Willow has a crush on

There's the computer science teacher that anyone who has been in class with knows Willow also has a crush on, who sometimes has Willow come in to class to help her run sessions for remedial students on the weekends and whose job Willow (somehow) takes over when she dies

There's Cordelia Chase, who Willow has a whole historical Thing with, probably going back to when they were little kids themselves. People say Willow hates her but they're always hanging out together (there's a persistent rumor that they once spent a whole night together in a closet, if you know what I mean) and Willow helped run her campaign for Homecoming Queen. Cordelia was secretly dating Willow's friend for a bit and some people say Willow was really, really upset when she found out; read into that what you will.

There's the mysterious older guy in a band who doesn't talk much and that Willow is apparently actually dating. (This isn't the same older guy in a band Cordelia was dating, but oddly enough it is the same band.) A few kids swear they've seen him naked and locked up in the library at night.

There are (again, from the outside) people like Willow's childhood friend Amy and Amy's friend Michael, who people might remember were once being investigated by the police for ritual murder before Amy mysteriously vanished

To the outside eye, the Scooby Gang are Willow Rosenberg and her weird friends.

(A lot of kids swear that one time they saw her hold the whole Bronze hostage and rip a girl's throat out with her teeth, but of course Principal Snyder hushed it all up and she was back at school the next day. He really doesn't want to have to hire a new computer science teacher this year.)

[vunblr]

The Weight of Choices

Pairing: Ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight dom! Bucky. A little angst.

Summary: Torn between his instinct to protect his family and his desire to be a part of their lives, Bucky tries to deal with the reality of his ex-wife going on a date while he stays home caring for their son.

Word Count: About 8.9k.

He was late. If Y/n didn’t know better, she’d think he was doing it on purpose. Bucky had agreed to watch their son tonight so she could go on a date, the third one since their divorce two years ago. The last couple of times, she’d managed to find a friend to babysit, but Saturday nights were always tough. So in the end, she had no choice but to come clean and ask Bucky.

She could still hear his voice from that awkward phone call, his tone edged with surprise when she’d told him she had plans.

“A date?” he repeated, the edge of disbelief hard to miss.

"Yeah," she’d replied casually, but Bucky’s silence lingered longer than usual. He hated texting, so phone calls had become their norm, even for the smallest of things.

“With who?” His attempt to sound nonchalant fell flat, the tension threading through every word.

“Chris,” she said, keeping her tone light, “You know, the music teacher at the kindergarten where I work? Blonde, easy smile... we walked past him once when he was out with his dog, Dodger.”

Bucky scoffed, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable. “I knew it. I knew he had a thing for you.”

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Oh, please.”

“Every time I’d drop by the kindergarten, he’d just… linger. His eyes followed you the whole time like he couldn’t look away. People don’t stare like that unless they’re thinking something. And the way he’d smile, all soft and attentive, he was trying too hard to be just a ‘friendly co-worker.” His voice had dropped a notch, irritation creeping in.

“Are you serious?” she shot back, incredulous. But Bucky wasn’t done.

“How long’s this been going on?” The question came out more like an accusation.

“It’s our first date. You know I only recently started dating again,” she replied, her patience wearing thin.

He paused, clearly unsatisfied. “So what, he’s just been waiting for his chance, ready to pounce-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, James,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “You’re not entitled to know anything about my love life the moment you decided you wanted the divorce.”

There was an uncomfortable silence on the line. She could hear him breathing, the tension stretching between them, until finally, he sighed.

“You’re right,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry, that was out of line. I’ll take care of Benjamin on Saturday night.”

The recall of the conversation was interrupted by Ben, who wanted to show her what he did with his Legos.

Bucky had been sitting in front of the house for half an hour now. Sometimes, like tonight, he regretted what he’d done, but deep down, he knew it had been necessary. After the terrifying incident when Hydra agents attempted to kidnap their son, hoping to test if any of the serum’s powers had been passed down genetically, he realized that his past would eventually catch up with them. He had to make sure they were safe, even if it meant tearing apart everything they’d built.

He knew she wouldn’t understand if he told her the truth. If he had laid out his fears and his guilt and spiraled into a self-deprecating parade like he always did, she would have fought him and convinced him to stay. So he waited.

He knew the only way to make her believe it, was to weave in just enough truth to his argument, so, slowly he began pulling away, setting the stage for what would be his ultimate break. Late nights, distant conversations, an almost non-existent sexual life and missed moments with their son, all led to this. He needed her to see that the life they had wasn’t something he could carry anymore.

When the moment came, he didn’t hesitate. He told her he felt suffocated by their life together. That the roles of husband and father were more than he could bear after everything he had been through. She didn’t believe him at first, and he could see the determination in her eyes, the will to fight for what they had.

So, he played the card he knew would make her stop fighting him. He spoke of the years he’d spent as a puppet, how he had never truly known freedom, never had control over his life. He appreciated everything she had done for him, all the love and support she had given, but it wasn’t enough. He needed air, space to figure out who he was beyond the roles he had been forced into. He made it sound like staying with her, staying in the family they’d built, was just another form of captivity.

It crushed her. Bucky could see the moment her resistance faded. She believed him, not because she wanted to, but because he made it seem so real. So she stood there, heartbroken, but unable to argue against the logic he’d presented.

The first months after the divorce were hard on both parts. For her, that time was the hardest, filled with sleepless nights and the nagging feeling that Bucky had simply abandoned her, walked away from their life, their love, without a second thought. She wrestled with the confusion and the heartbreak, trying to piece together where things had gone wrong. For Bucky, it was a different kind of suffering. He bore the weight of his decision in silence, knowing he had walked away to protect them, but that didn’t ease the sting of loneliness or the guilt that gnawed at him.

Their lives moved on separately. They saw each other only in passing, and even that was rare. Bucky would pick up Benjamin directly from daycare once a week, dropping him off the next morning before heading back to his life, careful to avoid lingering long enough for awkward conversations. Sometimes he didn’t make it at all, missing his time with his son when missions pulled him away. Immersing himself in his work was easier than facing what he had left behind, the family he still wanted but couldn’t allow himself to have. Meanwhile, she did her best to create some normalcy for Benjamin, even as the space Bucky left behind echoed through their small home.

Even though their lives had drifted apart, Bucky never truly let go. He kept his distance, but never far enough to lose sight of them. Unbeknownst to her, he knew everything that went on in the household, the daily rhythms of their life, the way she struggled and adapted to her new normal without him. From the shadows, Bucky lurked unnoticed in the neighborhood, always keeping an eye on them. She never noticed, never had a clue that even when he was away on missions, he somehow knew when Benjamin caught a cold or when she had a rough day at work.

It was a secret vigil that gave him a twisted sense of comfort, knowing they were safe even if they no longer shared the same home. He would catch fleeting glimpses of her tucking their son into bed or hear his faint laughter playing in the yard. It was enough to remind him of what he’d lost, but not enough to bring him back to the life he believed he couldn’t have.

That was why Bucky was caught off guard when she mentioned her date with that guy, the music teacher. He never saw that coming. He had always known the man had a soft spot for her, could see it in the way he acted whenever she was around, how he lingered a little longer during pick-ups at the kindergarten, helping to manage the children even if it wasn’t his job, always with an excuse to retain her and talk. His body language was an open book. But back then, Bucky had dismissed him as harmless, barely giving him a second thought. To him, Chris had always been like a friendly Labrador: approachable, with no bite. A non-threat.

But now, that harmless Labrador had grown fangs. The guy wasn’t just hanging around the edges anymore; he was stepping in, taking her to dinner, moving into a space Bucky had once occupied. And he had no choice but to suck it up and watch it happen, watch her walk out the door with him. He could handle the distance, the brief moments of tension when they had to interact, but this? The idea of Chris sitting across from her at a candlelit table, making her laugh, holding her gaze... it twisted his guts.

And God knows what else would happen after dinner. Would Chris try to kiss her goodnight? Would she let him? Or worse, would they end up back at his place? His mind ran wild with the possibility of them taking things further, crossing a line he never wanted to imagine. Would she let him touch her in ways Bucky used to, let him see sides of her only he had known? He knew he had no right to feel this way, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from torturing him.

Eventually, he glanced at the clock and sighed, raking a hand through his hair. There was no point in torturing himself any further, he couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer.

Reaching the front porch, Bucky hesitated for a moment. He straightened his posture adjusting his clothes, then knocked on the door. As he waited, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to shake off the tension.

When the door finally swung open, for a split second, neither of them spoke. Her eyes widened just a little, her lips parting as she took him in. It had been a long time since she’d seen him. His hair had grown back to shoulder length, a few strands falling loose across his forehead. A three-day stubble sharpened his jawline, in a way that made him look rugged and effortlessly handsome. And was he wearing that shirt? The red and black lumberjack one that used to drive her wild?

Bucky caught her reaction and hit him like a shot of adrenaline. When he exited the bathroom that night and picked what to wear, he told himself it was just practical, something comfortable to wear while watching and playing with Ben. The cologne? Just a habit. But deep down, a part of him knew the truth: he wanted her to notice, and that split-second when her eyes widened, scanning him from head to toe, told him everything. She noticed. She definitely noticed. And something about that felt like a victory, even though he wasn’t supposed to be playing that game anymore.

He stared at her longer than necessary, his blue gaze drifting over the black dress she wore. New, he realized. It hugged her body in all the right places, accentuating her curves in a way that was impossible to ignore. The hemline? Too short for his liking. He clenched his jaw slightly, knowing full well Chris would be thrilled to see her like this.

Forcing himself to snap out of it, Bucky cleared his throat and broke the silence. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and calm, though the tension still simmered beneath the surface. “You look... good.” He meant it, but the words tasted bitter.

"Thanks," she said, her tone polite but distant, deliberately choosing not to compliment him back. She lingered for a moment, then added, “You’re late.”

Bucky flinched inwardly at the remark, though he kept his expression neutral. "Traffic," he muttered, stepping inside as she moved aside to let him in. An awkward silence settled between them, the air thick with things left unsaid.

Her fingers toyed with the edge of her dress as she cleared her throat, trying to fill the silence. “Ben is in the bathroom,” she said, her voice casual, but there was a tension beneath it. “You can wait for him in the living room.”

“Right,” Bucky replied, nodding stiffly. He walked past her and into the living room, the space feeling both familiar and foreign at the same time. He took a seat, trying to shake off the strange energy between them, but his mind kept wandering back to the fact that she was dressed for someone else.

A moment later, the doorbell rang, and she turned toward the sound, visibly relieved. She opened the door, and Bucky heard Chris’s voice, a cheerful greeting that she surely responded to with a soft, warm smile. Bucky didn’t need to see it, her tone was different with him, softer, more open.

“Hey,” Chris said, his voice bright, though there was a subtle shift when he paused. There was a beat of silence before he added, “You look amazing.”

Bucky couldn’t help it. Something pulled him from the couch, and before he knew it, he was standing in the hall, watching the interaction from a few feet away. His eyes narrowed as he observed Chris, sizing him up instinctively. Chris was taller than he remembered, clean-cut in a casual but neat button-down shirt, his easy smile faltering just a fraction when his eyes darted past her, catching sight of Bucky standing there.

Chris’s brows furrowed, but he quickly masked his reaction, giving Bucky a curt nod. “Uh, hey,” he greeted awkwardly, glancing between them.

It was her turn to narrow her eyes. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw him. Bucky stood at the edge of the hallway, staring directly at Chris, his expression unreadable. His eyes locked onto the man without blinking. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t saying anything, just staring.

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. Really? A display of male dominance, here and now? After everything he’d put her through, the mess he’d made of their lives, he suddenly decided he had the right to act territorial? What exactly did he think he was entitled to? The nerve of it sent a wave of irritation through her, tightening her grip on her coat.

But what frustrated her even more -what really troubled her- was that a part of her didn’t mind. Beneath her annoyance, something stirred, deep and undeniable, lurking just beneath the surface. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but his presence still had a hold on her. Maybe it didn’t bother her as much as she wanted to believe. Maybe, despite everything, there was still a part of her that reacted to him, to the way he watched her, the way he used to make her feel like the center of his world.

Before those feelings could rise any further, before she could let herself dwell on what they meant, she quickly turned back to Chris. She forced a bright smile, pushing away the conflicted thoughts swirling in her mind.

“We should get going,” she said, her voice light, pretending not to notice the tension still hanging in the air. She stepped closer to Chris, signaling it was time to leave, hoping to put some distance between her and the weight of Bucky’s gaze.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Bucky stood frozen in place for a moment, the tension that had gripped him not easing, even with their absence. The quiet of the house felt heavier now, pressing down on him. His chest tightened as he stared at the closed door, half-expecting her to walk back in. Of course, she didn’t.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he replayed the scene in his head: her standing there, beautiful and confident, and Chris… that guy was so normal, so easygoing. Exactly what she deserved. Exactly what Bucky could never be. He raked a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. What was he even doing? He had no right, he was the one who walked away. He was the one who made her believe she wasn’t enough to keep him, that he wanted out. And now, here he was, silently raging because she was moving on, exactly like he supposedly wanted.

Stupid. That was the only word he could come up with to describe how he felt. Stupid for showing up looking the way he did, stupid for thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could still affect her. But what for? His job was to protect her and their son from the shadows, not to stand in the doorway, playing the part of some jealous lover. But God, it hurt more than he expected.

He crossed the living room, his steps heavy against the floor, and slumped into the couch. The house was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of the TV in the background. Ben was still in the bathroom, probably playing with the liquid soap and making a mess, unaware of the tangled web of emotions his father was caught in.

The hours slipped by, though Bucky barely noticed at first. Benjamin was beyond excited to have his dad all to himself for the evening. They played, joked, and built elaborate lego fortresses, the boy’s laughter filling the house with a warmth Bucky hadn’t realized he missed so much. For a little while, he was able to shove everything else to the back of his mind. Being a dad, just a dad, felt like a relief. But every now and then, his gaze would drift to the clock on the wall. He couldn’t help it. As much as he tried to stay in the moment with his son, there was a lingering pull, a constant, nagging thought of where she was.

After he’d put Ben to bed, Bucky’s mind wandered back to the date. The image of her in that black dress haunted him, the way Chris had looked at her, the possibility of what might have happened after dinner. His thoughts spiraled, even though he knew it was none of his business anymore. He poured himself a scotch, the amber liquid swirling in his glass as he tried -and failed- to push the thoughts aside.

Eventually, the sound of the front door opening cut through the quiet. The familiar click of her shoes against the entryway tile echoed through the house, sharp and distinct. She was home.

Bucky didn’t move. He stayed where he was, seated at the old teakwood table, nursing his scotch. The only light on in the house was the dim glow above the kitchen, so she’d find him.

The sound of her footsteps grew closer, and he listened intently, his heart beating just a little faster despite his best efforts to keep calm.

She entered the kitchen, her steps a little less steady than usual, mumbling a soft “Hi” as she made her way inside. Bucky glanced up, immediately sensing that she was a little tipsy. She didn’t meet his eyes, just plopped down in the chair next to him with a tired sigh. “God, my feet are killing me,” she muttered, kicking off her heels and wincing.

For a while, the silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant hum of the fridge. She sighed absentmindedly, then reached for his glass of scotch, taking a sip without asking. He was taken aback by the casual intimacy of the gesture, but he said nothing, just watched her as she leaned back in her chair.

Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. “Want me to rub your feet?” He froze. He couldn’t believe he’d said it, half-expecting her to snap at him or give him one of her sharp retorts.

But instead, she surprised him. She looked over at him, her eyes tired but soft, and then shrugged. “Yeah...” she said, her voice a little more relaxed than he expected.

Bucky blinked, caught off guard by her response. His heart thudded against his ribcage as he moved toward her, kneeling down in front of her chair. His fingers hovered hesitantly over her ankle before gently wrapping around it, lifting her foot onto his knee.

As he began to knead his thumbs into her sore muscles, the tension that had been brewing in him all night seemed to ease, just a little. Her head lolled back against the chair, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this, touching her again in this way, after everything. He shouldn’t, but she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seemed to relax more as the seconds passed, letting her guard down in a way that felt dangerously familiar.

“So... how was the date?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, almost too casual as he broke the silence.

Her eyes fluttered open at the question, and for a moment, he thought she might brush him off or remind him that it wasn’t his business. But instead, she gave a small shrug, her tone indifferent. “It was fine.”

Bucky frowned slightly, pressing his thumbs a little harder into the arch of her foot. He wasn’t sure if it was frustration or something else pushing his hands. “Fine?” he echoed, trying to keep his voice even.

“Yeah,” she murmured, closing her eyes. Her voice was soft, almost distracted. “Just... fine.”

He wasn’t satisfied with that. He couldn’t help himself, he pressed, his tone still light but with a thread of tension beneath it. “Only... fine?”

She sighed, her eyes still closed as if trying to keep the conversation from getting deeper. “What do you want me to say, Bucky?” Her voice wasn’t sharp, but there was a subtle edge in her words. “That it was amazing? That he swept me off my feet? Some dirty little details?”

Bucky’s fingers stilled for a moment, resting against her foot as he met her gaze. He didn’t respond right away, unsure if he even wanted to hear the truth, whatever it might be. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, his voice a little more vulnerable than he intended.

“It was just fine, nothing more, nothing less”

A silence settled between them, but he wasn’t ready to let it drop. “Are you going to see each other again outside work?” he ventured, his hands slowly moving up her shin, his touch hesitant but growing bolder. The fact that she didn’t push him away emboldened him further. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Bucky’s hands continued their slow ascent, fingers brushing over her calf and then her knee, his touch firm but careful. When she didn’t pull away, he felt his pulse quicken. The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of things unsaid.

“In a way,” she finally answered, her voice elusive, a touch distant. She shifted slightly in her chair, subtly parting her thighs as his hands wandered higher. The movement was small, but enough for him to catch it. His breath hitched, and his gaze flicked down to her legs before rising back up to her face, darkening with lust.

"Care to... elaborate?" he pressed again, his voice lower now, rougher. His fingers slid up to her inner thigh, lingering there with a possessive grip as if testing her reaction. Her legs instinctively spread wider beneath his touch, and that simple motion sent a rush of heat through him.

She shifted slightly, as if searching for the right words. "He’s... nice," she finally said, her voice a bit breathless under his touch. "He’s thoughtful, considerate, makes me laugh…” Her lips twitched in a small smile, but it quickly faded as she looked down at his hand resting on her thigh. “He’s... good.”

Bucky’s thumb paused, pressing a little harder, as he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a murmur. “…And?”

She sighed, her eyes opening again to meet his intense gaze. “And… he’s not you.”

His grip on her thigh tightened involuntarily, his breath catching in his throat. He’d pushed her away, done everything he could to sever the ties between them, convinced himself it was for her protection. But now, hearing her admit that, it sent his head spinning.

“He’s not you.”

The room seemed smaller, the air heavier, as the tension between them crackled like electricity. His hand inched higher, dangerously close to where he could feel the heat radiating off her body. Every instinct in him screamed to close the distance, to take what he wanted, to forget everything that had led them to this point. But he forced himself to stop, his gaze locking onto hers, searching her face for any sign that she would tell him to stop.

She didn’t. Instead, she held his gaze, her breathing shallow as if waiting to see what he would do next.

Bucky’s grip tightened again. Fuck it. He leaned forward, pressing his face against her other inner thigh, his stubble grazing her skin as he inhaled her scent deeply, a growl rumbling in his chest. She tensed, feeling him nip gently at her sensitive flesh, and then a slow, deliberate lick followed, sending a shiver through her.

"Did he behave, or..." he paused, his tongue teasing the same spot before he looked up at her, his lips brushing her thigh as he continued, "...things got handsy?"

A gasp escaped her when she felt his mouth so dangerously close to where she wanted it most. Her head tilted back just slightly, her body betraying her as desire pooled in her belly. His eyes flicked up, meeting hers, their blue depths darkened with lust, and something more. His lips remained pressed against her skin, refusing to budge until he had his answer.

"You let him touch you?" His voice was a husky whisper, laced with jealousy.

She exhaled slowly, her breath shaky as the memory flickered through her mind. "Yes," she admitted, her voice low, reluctant. "But just briefly, when we ki—"

Before she could finish, Bucky’s hand shifted, moving up to cup her mound, his fingers pressing firmly against the damp fabric of her underwear. Her words died in her throat, a sharp intake of breath replacing them as his touch ignited a fire that spread through her veins. His hand was deliberate, unapologetic in the way it claimed her, the heel of his palm pressing against her pussy as if he had every right to be there.

"And then?" His question hung in the air, but she couldn’t find the words immediately.

Her lips parted as she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to feel something... but I didn’t. I just didn’t."

Her confession landed between them like a spark to dry wood, setting the tension ablaze. Bucky’s hand remained where it was, but his thumb stroked over the wet fabric, teasing her, testing her resolve as his gaze bore into hers. She had said what he needed to hear, what he craved to know, and now, there was no turning back.

Bucky’s thumb slid the fabric of her underwear aside, his fingers unhesitating as they slipped between her folds, finding her slick with need. He brushed upward, just barely grazing her clit, watching with dark, heavy-lidded eyes as she gasped at the contact. Her body arched involuntarily, but he didn’t relent, keeping his movements slow and deliberate, teasing her just enough to drive her crazy but not enough to give her what she craved.

“And…” his voice was low, rasping against the tension between them, “how long did it take you to realize you’d had enough? That it wasn’t going to work?”

His thumb circled lazily, making her hips shift forward, chasing the friction he barely offered. The question hung in the air, laced with his possessiveness, through every word. He didn’t wait for an answer, his fingers delving deeper inside her, coating themselves in her arousal before they moved back up, brushing over her clit again, this time with more pressure.

"One kiss?" His lips curled in a half-smirk as he watched her face contort with pleasure. He dipped his fingers inside her again, slow, dragging them out just as leisurely. "Two?"

She trembled, unable to form a coherent response, the sensation of his touch overwhelming her senses after so long. Her breath hitched as his fingers increased their pace, every stroke purposeful, designed to unravel her. Bucky leaned upward, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he murmured, “How long, doll?” The way he said it, like a dare, made her heart race even faster.

Her head fell back, her body betraying any attempt at control as she whispered breathlessly, “One…”

A satisfied growl rumbled from him, his fingers rewarding her honesty with a firmer stroke, sending her spiraling closer to the edge.

It wasn’t fair. He had cast her aside, almost without looking back, tearing her world apart with his cold departure. And now here she was, grinding her pussy against his fingers like some desperate, needy whore, begging for more. A part of her wanted to slap him, to shove him away and scream at him for every sleepless night she spent wondering why she wasn’t enough, why he had thrown their life away so easily. She wanted to tell him how much she hated him for walking out on them.

But then, there was that traitorous side of her. The part that had never stopped hoping. The part that had always waited, held out some foolish, silent hope that he’d come back. That she’d see that flicker of warmth in his eyes again, the one that told her she was his entire world. And it wasn’t just her heart that longed for him, her body had missed him, too. She hated herself for it. For still thinking about him late at night when she touched herself, fingers slipping between her thighs as his name slipped from her lips in the darkness.

And that same traitorous side of her had ruined her date with Chris. She’d tried to be present, to laugh, to be charmed by his warm smile and thoughtful gestures. But all night, all she could think about was Bucky.

The way he’d looked at him, cold and assessing, as if he didn’t belong there, his presence filling the hallway like he still had some claim to it, to her. What was he trying to prove, anyway? That he was still the man of the house?

She hated how, even while Chris was talking, her mind drifted back to the feeling of Bucky’s fingers tracing his stupid shirt, her memory filling in the rough, familiar feel of his hands on her skin. And she knew, even if she couldn’t admit it aloud, that some part of her had wanted him to see her dressed up, to feel in some small way the longing and ache she’d carried in his absence.

And maybe that’s why she’d felt nothing when Chris had leaned in for a kiss, why his gentle smile and soft touches had felt hollow. Even his laugh, light and kind, hadn’t stirred her because it wasn't Bucky’s rough, rumbling chuckle or his stupidly confident grin. Bucky, in all his infuriating ways, still occupied every corner of her mind.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as his fingers worked her closer to the edge. She wanted to be angry, to let that rage consume her, but every time she opened her mouth to say something hurtful, to lash out at him, her body betrayed her. Every roll of her hips against his hand, every needy whimper that slipped from her throat, reminded her of just how much she had missed this.

It wasn’t fair. But she couldn’t stop.

With a light pinch on her swollen clit, the tension snapped, and she came hard on his fingers. Her mouth fell open, a moan escaping as her body convulsed, riding the wave of pleasure that coursed through her. The world blurred around her as her climax took over, her hips grinding against his hand, chasing every last second of the release.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, a mix of the overwhelming pleasure and the emotional storm swirling inside her. A few finally escaped, rolling silently down her cheeks, but before she could turn away, Bucky was there, his lips brushing them away with surprising tenderness. His breath ghosted over her skin as he whispered soft, comforting words she could barely make out, something about how beautiful she was, how good she had been for him, as if they hadn’t been tangled up in all this pain and heartache.

His touch was almost reverent as he slowly withdrew his fingers, slick and glistening from her release. Their gazes met, and he didn’t break eye contact as he brought those same fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with deliberate, agonizing slowness. He stood up in one fluid motion, effortlessly lifting her from the chair by the waist as if she weighed nothing, and in a swift, controlled movement, he placed her on top of the table, positioning himself between her legs.

Before she could even process it, his arms were around her, pulling her into a bear hug that was both tight and needy. His face buried itself in the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin as he inhaled deeply, taking her in.

He held her as if letting go was not an option, his grip firm yet strangely vulnerable. The way he clung to her felt like both a claim and an apology, urgent -almost broken- like he was holding onto her not just physically, but emotionally, too.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll leave,” he murmured against her skin, his voice rough and low, the words vibrating against her neck. He didn’t dare look at her, not yet, because if he did, if he saw doubt or rejection in her eyes, it would break him.

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Each second felt like an eternity. His breath was uneven, ragged, as he waited for her to say something, anything. Another moment passed, tension coiling tighter in his chest until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He lifted his head, his gaze searching hers, bracing himself for the worst. But instead of the words that would send him away, he saw her eyes flicker downward to his lips. It was brief, a split-second decision, but it was enough.

So he leaned in, cautiously at first, like he was testing the waters after years of distance. His lips brushed against hers softly, almost hesitant, as if afraid this fragile moment would break apart. But the second she responded, it was like a dam broke. His hands cradled her face, deepening the kiss with desperation. It was messy, all-consuming, there was no gentleness, no tenderness. This was not the careful, delicate dance of two people testing the waters. This was hunger, a ravenous need to reclaim what had been lost. His lips moved down to her jaw, her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, and she moaned softly, her fingers tightening in his hair as he sucked on the sensitive skin below her ear.

His hands gripped her waist, strong and possessive, pulling her closer until her body was flush against his. The need to feel her, to claim her, was overwhelming. It was like two years of silence, longing, and frustration had ignited in an instant, everything that had been pushed down now surging forward, unstoppable.

“I’ll ask you again, babydoll. Are you sure you want this?” Bucky’s voice was thick with restraint, the tension in his muscles barely contained as he hovered over her, his breath hot against her neck. He was giving her one last chance to stop this, to pull away, even though every fiber of his being was screaming for her. But instead of words, her answer was a quiet, deliberate motion. Her hand slid between them, deftly unbuttoning his jeans, her fingers brushing against the outline of his erection.

A low growl escaped him, and his hand shot down to catch her wrist, halting her movements. His gaze met hers, dark and intense, his chest heaving with barely restrained desire. “I need you to say it,” he murmured, voice rough, on the edge of control.

“Yes,” she whispered.

That was all he needed.

Without hesitation, he pulled his shirt over his head in one swift motion, not bothering with the buttons, his muscles flexing as the fabric slid off. The moment his skin was free, he didn’t give himself time to think. His eyes locked on hers as he grabbed the neckline of her dress. With a sharp tug, the fabric tore easily under his grip, the sound of it ripping filling the air. The dress fell to her waist, exposing her bare breasts to his gaze.

“Hey! It was brand new, you know?” she protested.

“I noticed,” he replied, his fingers grazing the tattered edge of her dress. “But you didn’t buy it to wear it for me, did you?” His voice dropped, thick with jealousy as he alluded to her date with Chris. He dipped his head, his lips hovering just above her exposed skin, his breath warm against her chest. “I don’t want it on you”. He latched his lips onto her nipple, his tongue swirling with a hungry need, while his vibranium fingers pinched and teased her other breast. His breath was hot against her chest as he whispered between kisses, “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this... missed you.” His words came out rough, full of longing that he couldn’t hold back any longer. “Every night... thinking about touching you again. Tasting you. Making you come over my cock.”

Her body responded, arching into him. She bit her lip, trying to stifle a moan, afraid that maybe Ben could hear her, but it slipped out anyway.

His hands moved to her thighs, gripping them firmly as he let out a low growl. “I thought about this, over and over... how you’d feel under me, how you’d sound when I made you scream my name again.” His voice was thick, hoarse, as he tugged at her dress, tearing the fabric completely until it was nothing but rags on the floor. He didn’t stop there, his thumbs slipping under the waistband of her flimsy panties. With a swift tug, the seams gave way, tearing effortlessly in his hands. He brought the soaked cloth to his nose, inhaling deeply, groaning as if the scent alone was enough to drive him insane. “God, I’ve missed this,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving hers. He flicked his tongue against the ruined cloth, savoring the taste with a low, hungry growl.

Without warning, he tossed the panties aside. His hands moved quickly, unbuttoning what remained of his jeans and kicking off his shoes before sliding the denim and underwear down in one fluid motion. They hit the floor with a soft thud as he stepped toward her. “Tell me how much you missed me,” he demanded softly.

She stared at him, drinking him in. He looked leaner, his body sculpted in sharp lines of muscle. He’d lost weight, surely by going mission after mission mixed with his poor eating habits. He was never good at taking care of himself. She almost missed the small paunch he used to have these last years, the one he hated, but she’d loved to bite. There was something comforting about that softness, but now he was the embodiment of raw strength.

Her gaze drifted lower, lingering on the sight of his cock, standing at full attention. She swallowed. Apparently, her memories failed to measure up to reality. He was big, sure, she’d always known that, but this big? Her core tightened with need, clenching in raw anticipation.

"I missed you,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, laced with longing as her eyes lifted to meet his. “So much… you have no idea. God, you’ve ruined me.”

Her words shattered whatever restraint he had left. He’d imagined, countless times, that if this moment ever came, he’d take his time, savor her, and make it last. But now, faced with her beneath him, so close and so ready, patience was a luxury he no longer possessed.

Without a second thought, he gripped her thighs and spread her wide on the table, lining himself up as he dragged the head of his cock along her entrance, coating himself in her slick heat. In a swift, desperate thrust, he drove into her, hard and deep, filling her completely as a ragged groan escaped his lips.

She cried out, her body responding immediately, arching into him as he slammed into her again. His hands gripped her hips with bruising force, and his own moved in a relentless rhythm, every thrust driving him deeper. He couldn’t stop. Her moans spurred him on, her words circling in his head like a drug.

“Ruined you, huh?” His breath was ragged as he pulled almost all the way out, teasing her with the loss, before slamming back in. “Let me remind you how much.” With a raw hunger that had been bottled up far too long, Bucky's thrusts became brutal, each one driving her back along the table, her nails scraping against the wood as he took her over and over. The grip on her hips was iron-hard, pinning her down so she could do nothing but take everything he gave her. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “Think anyone else could ever do this?” he murmured, his voice dark and rough, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. His lips ghosted along her jaw, and he pushed her to answer, knowing the effect he was having on her. “Tell me,” he demanded softly “Could anyone else make you feel like this?” He wanted her to say it, to make her admit that no one else would ever satisfy her the way he could.

She whimpered, clutching at his shoulders as he pounded into her, her nails digging into his skin as he pushed her higher and higher. “No… no one else.” Her words were broken, barely audible over her moans, but it was all he needed to hear.

“That’s right” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough, “No one else gets to touch you like this,” he breathed, each word laced with raw possession as he thrust deeper. “Only me,” he rasped. “Only I get to make you feel this way.”

He growled, one hand leaving her hip to slide between them, his fingers pressing down on her clit in quick, merciless circles. “This is mine,” he hissed, metal fingers working just enough to bring her close before pulling away, only to return just as she thought she couldn’t take any more.

She cried out, her body writhing beneath him as he drove her to the edge. His pace never faltered, his hips grinding against hers with a relentless rhythm, and his grip on her only tightened as she arched off the table, his name spilling from her lips like a prayer.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice thick with lust and something darker, something possessive. His hands slid down the back of her thighs, pushing her legs up against her torso as he plunged deeper, she could barely breathe every time he bottomed out. The way he hit her, the pressure at her cervix, sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain coursing through her, each one making her mewl helplessly. Her thighs shook against his chest, her hands desperately clutching at his forearms, fingers digging into his skin.

He leaned in closer again, his face inches from hers, his lips brushing her ears as he growled, “Tell me you’re mine.”

"I’m yours… fuck, Bucky!" she complied, her voice breaking between her panting breaths.

"Again," he ordered, his hips slamming into hers, the table creaking under the force of his movements. He could feel her walls clenching around him, so tight, so wet, he almost lost control then and there.

“I’m yours,” she whimpered again, her voice shaky, breathless.

“Chris will be so disappointed to hear that” he growled. “Let’s make sure you stay ruined, just in case.” He was relentless now, fucking her hard, deep, his body pressing hers further into the table as he pushed her thighs harder against her body giving him even better access, hitting that sensitive spot that left her gasping, his grip and the relentless pace leaving no room for anything but the sensation of him filling her completely, over and over.

She whimpered in response, too overwhelmed to speak, her entire body tensing as the pleasure became almost unbearable. His thumb moved between them again pressing against her clit, rubbing circles that sent sparks of heat shooting through her. She gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as her orgasm built rapidly, her body teetering on the edge.

“Milk my cock.” he ordered, his voice harsh, primal. His words pushed her over the edge and then she was gone, her body shivering violently as she clenched around him, her thighs tightening around him as her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer. The sound of his name fell from her lips, half-whisper, half-cry as the climax gripped her, intense and all-consuming, leaving her a trembling, breathless mess.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled through gritted teeth, his hips snapping into hers with bruising force. “And then some more,” he rasped, his voice thick with raw need. “You won’t even be able to keep it all in, babydoll.”

With a final thrust, Bucky’s head fell back, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he reached his climax. His body trembled, muscles tensing as he spilled himself inside her, a heated wave of release filling her completely. He held her there, his cock kept pulsing until his release overflowed, warm and thick, beginning to trickle down, pooling beneath them.

Still buried inside her, Bucky loosened his grip on her thighs, hands sliding down to cradle her waist as he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against her shoulder. He nuzzled into the curve of her neck, breathing in her scent, grounding himself as the heat of their union slowly ebbed, replaced by a quiet intimacy that neither of them seemed prepared for.

After a moment, he gently eased himself away, untangling their bodies but letting his hands linger at her hips, as though afraid to lose the connection. He took a step back, his gaze dropping for a moment before lifting to meet hers, hoping she’d break the silence but she didn’t look at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

Bucky’s chest tightened, a familiar pang surfacing as he watched her withdraw inward, her mind elsewhere despite the intimacy they’d just shared. Finally, she spoke, her voice low, tentative. “So… what now, Bucky?”

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I don’t… I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as he forced himself to hold her gaze. “I know I shouldn’t have done this. Not after…” He hesitated, but the truth slipped out anyway. “Not after what I put you through.”

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion clouding her expression, old wounds resurfacing. “Then why did you put me through this, Bucky?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with pain. “You said you couldn’t do this. That you needed space, that we were holding you back.” Her words hung heavy in the air, each one a quiet accusation tinged with vulnerability. “And now, you’re here, acting like…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…acting like you never left.”

He hesitated, knowing this was his chance to finally tell her the truth or let her keep believing the lie he’d used to protect them. He rubbed a hand over his face, then lowered it, meeting her gaze with raw honesty. “I didn’t leave because I didn’t want you,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I left because I was afraid that my past... everything I tried to bury might come back to hurt you. Hurt him.” His voice softened. “I thought if you believed I didn’t want this life, it would keep you safe.”

He glanced down, his hand twitching at his side before he looked up again, his voice hushed but resolute. "But… I want to come back,” he admitted, the words raw, like they’d been buried deep for too long. “To the house. To you, and Benjamin.”

A chill lingered in the air, and she wrapped her arms around herself, gaze flicking over their scattered clothes still strewn across the kitchen floor. She looked away, her shoulders tense as she rubbed her temples. "So, what’s changed, Bucky? The risks are still there, the same threats, the same fears..."

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver, his hand reaching out as though to touch her, but he stopped short, fingers brushing the edge of the table instead. "What’s different is me. I’ve had time to face what I couldn’t before. Stepping aside didn’t keep you safer; it just kept me away. I don’t want Ben growing up with a dad who keeps him and his mom at arm’s length. Almost a stranger.” His voice softened, the vulnerability seeping through. “Being apart from you doesn’t make things better. I miss you, doll. I miss us.”

“You can’t just leave and come back like nothing happened, Bucky.” Her voice was softer this time, almost breaking. “I wanted you here… every day, every night. Not just for me, but for Benjamin.” Her voice trembled with raw vulnerability.

He took a step closer, his hand hovering near hers, unsure if she’d pull away. “I know, and I hate that I ever thought leaving was the answer.” His tone was low, his gaze steady on her.

She looked down, her throat bobbing as she swallowed, emotions tightening her expression. “If you come back, I need to know you’re here to stay,” she whispered, the words more for herself than for him. “Because I don’t think I can go through this again… and I won’t let him either.” Her voice cracked on the last word, her hands gripping the table harder as if to keep herself grounded.

Her words shattered the last remnants of his restraint. Without another thought, Bucky dropped to his knees in front of her, the hard tile digging into him as he pressed his forehead against her thigh. She sucked in a breath, her hand instinctively moving to his hair, fingers trembling as they brushed against him. He could feel her hesitation, the walls she’d built so carefully to guard herself from the ache he’d left behind.

“Say yes,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with the vulnerability he could no longer hide. “Say yes, doll. I know I don’t deserve it.” His hands gripped her hips, anchoring him as if she were the only thing keeping him steady. “But I swear,” His voice cracked, raw and pleading. “I swear, I’ll never walk away again. Not from you, not from Benjamin.”

She looked down, a mix of shock and pain written on her face as she saw him there, broken, open, begging her for something she’d once offered so freely. Her hand gently settled on his cheek, and he leaned into the warmth of her touch, feeling the softness of her fingers against the rough stubble of his jaw. The ache in her eyes nearly undid him, but he stayed there, his forehead still pressed to her thigh, his breath heavy, waiting.

Her eyes searched his, and slowly, her resolve began to waver, the smallest flicker of trust finding its way back into her gaze. "Then prove it," she whispered, barely trusting herself as her hand lingered against his cheek, the warmth of her palm seeping into him. "Show me you’re here to stay."

After her words hung in the air, a fragile silence between them, Bucky’s gaze dropped. He swallowed, his hand reaching for something inside the scattered clothes on the floor.

From his back pocket, he drew out a small, well-worn leather charm, a little star-shaped pendant, its edges smoothened from years of handling. She recognized it immediately. It was something she’d passed on to him when he left for his first mission after they married, a symbol she hoped would keep him safe. She thought it had been lost long ago, like so many pieces of them.

He held it out to her, and the look on his face was raw, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t seen since the early days. “I never stopped carrying this,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick. “Even when I tried to convince myself I was doing the right thing by staying away. I couldn’t let go of you…of us. I kept it close, hoping… hoping someday I could come back and give it back to you. I know it doesn’t make up for the time I lost, but…” His voice faltered, the sincerity there unmistakable.

She stared at the pendant, her hand shaking slightly as she reached out, fingers grazing the familiar leather. All the memories it held, the late-night goodbyes, the whispered promises, the hope she’d once tied to it, all of it rushed back, filling the space between them.

She looked down at him, seeing in his eyes the weight of the years, the regrets, but also the glimmer of the man she’d fallen in love with.

Taking a shaky breath, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “This… this was supposed to keep you safe, Bucky. Keep us safe.”

“And it did,” he replied softly, his hand covering hers over the charm. “It kept you here.” He paused, his voice barely a murmur. “And maybe now… it can bring me back home.”

The last of her defenses wavered, and she felt herself letting go of the anger, the hurt, all the pieces that had kept them apart. “Maybe… maybe it was always meant to guide you back here,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his with a warmth he hadn’t seen in years. “So if you’re really here to stay… then welcome home, Bucky.”

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[marvelfilth]

Jealous girl (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: secret relationship, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, fingering, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Natasha's in her 30s), praise, pet names, orgasm denial

Summary: your best friend Peter needs help, Natasha's not happy about it at all.

Masterlist

You're standing in the kitchen when it happens.

Peter barges in, his hair a tangled mess, his sweatshirt inside out. You jump away from Natasha's arms, making her spill her protein shake. She shoots him a dirty look, her lips curling up upon registering his disheveled state.

You try to keep the annoyance from showing on your face, but you know you're doing a terrible job when Peter winces apologetically, throwing a bag full of Ben and Jerry's on the counter.

"Code red," he pants.

You straighten immediately, trying to shoo Natasha away with a look, but, instead of leaving, she makes herself comfortable on the counter with an excited glint in her eyes.

You've been friends with Peter ever since he ran you over with his bike in kindergarten, leaving you with a tiny scar on your shin, and a fear of any two-wheeled object. Your friendship grew over the years, and soon enough you were joined at hip, going to the same school and college, tagging along on his patrols, mainly to keep him out of the police radars.

"What's wrong?" You ask, fearing the worst. "Is Venom acting up again? Is it Felicia? I swear to God, if it's her again I'm gonna-"

That's when you decided to make a secret code to help you stay under the radar. In hindsight, you could've thought of something more elaborate than code red, code green and code yellow, but neither of you had enough brain power for that.

"It's MJ!" He cuts you off, shifting on his feet.

You stammer, looking at Natasha for help, but she appears equally puzzled. "I didn't think she had it in her, to be honest," she says, taking a sip of her shake.

"What?" Peter yelps, before jumping up, his hands flying up in an X motion. "No! She's not- No! She's not a villain, or a criminal, or anything like that."

You decide you've had enough of his blabbering, so you take hold of his shoulders and corner him against the counter. "What is it, Peter?"

He takes a deep breath, his cheeks painted crimson, and blurts out, "I really need you to kiss me."

You jump away like you've been burned, shooting an alarmed look to Natasha, but she doesn't register it, her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, her knuckles white from the grip she has on her protein shake. You think you can hear it creak.

You turn back to look at your best friend, who's blissfully unaware of your relationship with the most dangerous person in this building, just like everyone else on the team.

Natasha's reluctance to share her love life with her teammates came to bite her in the ass.

"No, wait. That came out wrong." He winces, his eyes darting to Natasha. You can hear him gulp when their eyes meet.

"I think you were pretty clear, Parker," she gritts, jumping off the counter, and comes to stand behind you, hovering over your shoulder.

You send him an encouraging look, taking hold of Natasha's hand behind your back.

"I have a date with MJ-"

"Doesn't explain why you need my- Y/n to kiss you."

You shoot her a warning look. "Let him finish."

Her jaw clenches, but she relents, nodding to the boy to continue.

He looks like he regrets every life choice that led him to this moment.

"Okay, so. I have a date with MJ, and I planned it all out, right? But… um… there's a problem." He clasps his hands, thumbs fiddling. You stay silent in fear of him closing off, and patiently wait for him to continue. "I've never had a girlfriend before, and I've been kissed twice, if you count that one time when Ned fell on top of me and kind of swallowed my face." Natasha snorts, and Peter blushes deep red, his eyes pleading. "I need practice because otherwise I'll just embarrass myself, and she'll hate me forever."

You feel Natasha tense up again, and you're ready to ask her to leave, but she beats you to it, speaking up before you could open your mouth. "I don't think MJ would like you kissing someone else right before your date." Her tone is even, carefully emotionless, but you feel the way her breathing shakes slightly, her grip on your hand tightening.

Peter looks at you, brows set in confusion. "But it's Y/n, she doesn't count as someone!" You huff, indignant. He winces, but goes on. "I could ask Ned, but I don't think he has any experience, so please, please do this for me?"

You turn around to face Natasha. "Can you leave us?"

Her eyes narrow, lips curled. "You're not kissing him." Her hands land on your waist possessively, and you're suddenly turned around. She lowers her chin to your shoulder, lips grazing the shell of your ear as she speaks, "Listen to me very carefully, Parker."

Peter gulps, and takes a step back, his eyes wide and alert.

"You're going to leave and find someone else to help with your little problem. We'll pretend this conversation never took place, and you'll never even think about kissing Y/n again. Am I being clear?" She almost growls, her eyes flashing.

Peter nods dumbly, before hurrying to the door. He stops halfway to shoot you a bewildered look over his shoulder. "Wait… Are you two-"

"Out, Parker," Natasha barks, her face half buried in the crook of your neck. You blush, and wave your friend goodbye, grateful when he disappears behind the door without any further questions.

"Tasha," you whine, turning in her hold. "That wasn't necessary."

She scoffs, and picks you up with practiced ease, settling you on the counter and taking place between your parted thighs. "Yes it was." She sucks at the tender skin just below your collarbone, leaving a stinging bruise. "I can't believe you wanted me to leave." She squeezes your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Her mouth is all over your neck - sucking, biting and licking, claiming. You're sure no amount of concealer will be enough to hide the marks.

"Natty," you whimper, "he's my friend, I wanted to talk some sense into him."

She hums, the skin on the underside of your jaw pulled between her teeth. "I did the same thing, no?" Her fingers sneak past the waistband of your shorts, but you're quick to catch her wrist.

"What are you doing?" You look around, panting heavily. "What if someone walks in?"

"Daddy," you moan, pushing her face lower. Her fingers feel so heavenly that you don't even care about anyone walking in - you need her tongue, now. "Please."

You're pushed flat against the counter then, your back on the cold marble, your ass hanging right off the edge. Your fingers disappear in her tresses when she bends down to place a kiss on your clothed cunt.

"Let them see who you belong to," she murmurs, entering your aching core. You bite back a moan, arching in her hold, your pussy clenching around her long digits. Fleeting kisses are placed all over your stomach, her fingers curling inside your heat.

She chuckles, gently biting on your hip bone. "So needy already? I barely started." She adjusts the angle, fastening the pace, but your shorts get in the way, making you huff impatiently.

"Take them off, please," you whimper, clenching around her.

"And when someone walks in, and sees you spread wide open, what then? You think I'd allow anyone to see this pretty pussy?" Her fingers scissor inside you, stretching your walls.

"N-no."

"That's right," she hums, "because it belongs to me." She pulls out to land a short slap on your slit. "Perfect little hole for daddy to play with."

She teases your folds, collecting wetness before pushing her fingers into your mouth. You eagerly suck them in, letting her fuck your mouth, tips of her fingers pushing against your throat. "Such an obedient girl," she murmurs, dark eyes fixated on your lips. You squirm, hips rocking against her abdomen with desperate need of release.

She pulls out her fingers, smearing your slick mixed with spit over your chin.

"I need you," you whine, catching her wrist and leading her hand lower, your panties sticking to your drenched cunt.

She takes the fabric in her fist, and tugs it up, making it press against your pulsing clit. You moan loudly, throwing your head back. She kneads your supple breast with her other hand, and you arch into her, pulling her closer to your aching core with your hips.

"We'll tell everyone tonight," she murmurs against your lips. "But right now you need to be a good girl and take everything daddy gives you."

You nod, feeling your pussy clench around nothing, begging for Natasha's fingers to return. She tugs on your lower lip with her teeth and plunges three fingers inside, hitting a spongy spot deep in your heat. You arch off the counter, pressing against her front, your legs clenched hard around her hips. She grunts lowly, setting a slow pace, making sure to explore your pussy with each thrust, collecting your wetness when she pulls out only to push it back inside. You bury your face in her shoulder, your fingers disappear in her hair, tugging at the tresses.

"Good?" She whispers against your ear, spreading her fingers inside, her thumb firm on your clit.

You gasp, and bite down on the muscle of her shoulder, nodding with your eyes clenched shut. "S-so good, daddy."

She hums, her full lips pulling in a smirk, and starts circling your pulsing nub. You throw your head back, moaning loudly, and she takes the opportunity to paint your neck purple, sucking on the tender skin hard enough to leave bruises.

"M'gonna… I'm gonna come," you whimper when she hits your sweet spot, making your toes curl.

"Did I say you could, babygirl?" She chuckles into your neck, making sure to hit the spot with each thrust. You shake your head, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows in effort to stop your approaching orgasm, your body as tense as a drawn bowstring. "That's right, baby," she cooes, kissing the corner of your mouth, "you're not allowed to."

Your heart drops to your stomach, torn between wanting to be Natasha's good girl and giving in to the pleasure. “Please, please let me…” you whine, buckling against her hand.

She pulls away, her eyes level with yours, and you want to sob from how good she feels inside you, your pussy clenching around her slender fingers.

“You’ll hold it for me,” she says, “and I'll make up for it later tonight.” You almost huff in frustration, knowing that you'll have to walk around the Compound painfully wet for the rest of the day.

She grabs your jaw, seemingly reading your thoughts. “And don't even think about touching yourself.”

She pulls away abruptly and tugs you off the counter before fixing your shorts and stepping away. You blink rapidly, disoriented by the sudden change, your pussy aching in the sweetest way.

Sam enters the kitchen a second later.

You subtly wipe your mouth clean, and even out your breathing while he rummages the upper shelves. Natasha's eyes glint with mischief as she slowly wipes her fingers with a paper towel.

"You up for a training session?" She asks Sam, and you shoot her a furious look. Your glare does nothing to the redhead, as she continues watching you silently, a teasing smirk pulling at her mouth.

Sam scoffs, looking between you two. "Like you weren't about to get nasty two seconds ago."

Natasha chuckles, her eyes flashing. "About to? You need to work on your observation skills, Wilson."

Sam stills, his eyes darting between you two, and you look away, knowing that nothing could hide your red cheeks and bruised lips.

He chokes on his water the moment he sees your neck. "Damn, Romanoff," he gasps, coughing. "Right here?! This is a sacred place! I cook here!"

Natasha hums, shrugging carelessly. "I eat here," she retorts, and you can tell by the crinkles near her eyes she's about to say something that's gonna make you want to bury yourself. "Actually, I was about to devour something really delic-"

"Natasha!" You shriek, tugging her away from the kitchen, but not before quietly apologizing to Sam.

She laughs quietly, following you to the bedroom. "I think we're banned from the kitchen now."

She thinks. You scoff, shaking your head. Trust Natasha to go from a full secrecy mode to telling every living soul about your sex life.

[harrysfolklore]

plsss can you make a fake instagram where the reader is a lawyer

you know how to ball, i know aristotle - op81

i really liked how this one turned out ! we love sino oscar 🥰 make sure to leave your feedback

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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yourinstagram greetings from the library 🧐 keeping an eye on my angel boy who started kindergarten (aka formula one) last month

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username1 serving cunt in the library we love to see it ♥︎ by author

username2 fellow columbia student right here 🙋‍♀️

↳ yourinstagram omgg we should hang out soon

username3 since when are you into f1 bestie

↳ yourinstagram since i’m dating one of the drivers 🤔

oscarfan1 THIS IS OSCAR’S GF??? SHES GORGEOUS ♥︎ by author, oscarpiastri

username4 i’ve been following for ages now but i just found out that she’s dating a famous athlete 😭

oscarfan2 i was ‪hoping that oscar was single but now that i found out that he has a beautiful AND smart gf i want them to adopt me

logansargeant I’ve been taking care of him in the playground, don’t worry

↳ yourinstagram i wouldn’t expect any less from you

↳ landonorris We haven’t met yet but I’m also taking care of little Oscah ♥︎ by author

↳ landofan1 OFC HE HAD TO COMMENT

↳ yourinstagram well thank you, little lando norris

mclaren When will we see you in papaya gear at a race? 🧡 Ps. The last picture is so real

↳ yourinstagram omg when college stops kicking my ass

↳ oscarfan1 i love her already

oscarpiastri I miss you so much, but I’m so happy to see you in your dream school, smart girl🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ oscarfan2 IM SOBBING THIS IS SO SWEET

↳ yourinstagram i love you 🥺

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oscarpiastri The smile on my face could only mean one thing: It’s home race weekend 🇦🇺

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oscarfan1 BABYYYYY

oscarfan2 he looks so kissable

mclaren Australia’s National Treasure 🧡

oscarfan3 MANIFESTING A PODIUM SO HARD

logansargeant Good luck on your home race bro 🙌 ♥︎ by author

↳ oscarfan1 bestiesss

username1 i’m still waiting for his girlfriend’s paddock debuttt

alex_albon The superior papaya boy ♥︎ by author

↳ landofan1 LANDO WAS FOUND CRYING

↳ oscarfan1 i love them

landonorris I’m going to categorically ignore what alex albon just said

↳ landofan1 HES SOOOO😭

landonorris Don’t to fool your audience, your smile is because your girl is finally coming ♥︎ by author, yourinstagram

↳ landofan2 OMFGGGGGGGGG

↳ oscarfan2 OSCAR AND YN PADDOCK DEBUT CONFIRMED BY LANDOOOO

↳ oscarfan3 goddd i was praying for this

↳ yourinstagram but can you blame him? ♥︎ by author

↳ username2 I LOVE THIS RELATIONSHIP SM

yourinstagram i can’t wait to see you, squish 🥺 ♥︎ by author

↳ oscarfan1 SQUISH I COULD SOBBBB

↳ oscarfan2 they’re so adorable i can’t do this

↳ oscarpiastri ❤️❤️❤️

yourinstagram added to their stories

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yourinstagram took a break from law school to finally go to my first race 🕺 SO PROUD OF YOU @oscarpiastri

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username1 AWEEE your wag era finally

oscarfan1 QUEEN OF THE PADDOCK ♥︎ by author

carmenmmundt It was so lovely to meet you ✨ ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram likewise beautiful carm 💓

↳ username2 i just want to be one of them

oscarfan2 thank you yn for giving us a weekend of blushy and smiley oscar and the best boyfriend content ever

oscarfan3 COME TO EVERY RACE PLEASEEE

↳ yourinstagram i would love to but i have to get my degree 🥲

mclaren You’re officially a papaya girl now 🧡

username2 they make the best couple ever bc she’s all brains and he’s all muscle ♥︎ by author

landonorris Go get that degree now, I need someone who can get me out of jail for free

↳ landofan1 WHY IS HE LIKE THIS 😭😭

↳ yourinstagram 🫡🫡🫡

username3 she’s stronger than me because is oscar piastri was my bf and i had the chance to travel around the world with him and look pretty u would drop out of college already

↳ yourinstagram just a few months till graduation i can do it okay

↳ oscarfan2 I LOVE HER

oscarpiastri Having you here made this weekend the best ever. I love you ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ oscarfan1 BOYFRIEND OSCAR I CANT

↳ username1 why can’t my boyfriend simp for me like this

↳ yourinstagram i loveeee youuuu

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oscarpiastri The perfect home race weekend 🇦🇺 I miss you already @yourinstagram 🤍

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oscarfan1 AWEEEEE

oscarfan2 MY HEART

georgerussell63 I need more of those grandma Piastri cookies ♥︎ by author

↳ danielricciardo Same

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN 😭

mclaren We love Australia 🦘🌏

oscarfan3 yn and oscar shouldn't be separated that's like a crime ♥︎ by yourinstagram

oscarfan4 THE THRID PIC MY HEARTTTT

landonorris Your girlfriend is cooler than you btw ♥︎ by yourinstagram

↳ landofan1 and teammate of the year award goes to lando norris

↳ logansargeant I agree

↳ username2 imagine the entire grid loving you

↳ oscarpiastri You're supposed to be my friend

↳ landonorris And she’s going to be my personal lawyer soon so

↳ yourinstagram 😭😭😭

yourinstagram i love you so much, angel. thank you for this weekend 🥺 ♥︎ by author

↳ username2 their relationship is the purest thing ever

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oscarpiastri Little mid season recharge. Visiting my favorite future lawyer 🤎

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oscarfan1 AWEEEEEE

oscarfan2 we love softie oscarrrr

username1 oh to be a columbia student

landonorris My kids ❤️❤️

↳ landofan1 lando is the biggest shooter for this relationship

↳ yourinstagram you’re just two years older than me..

↳ landonorris And? You’re my kids

↳ oscarfan2 I LOVE THEMMMM

username2 yn’s curls are so prettyyyy omg ♥︎ by author

nicolepiastri Our smart girl ! 👩‍⚖️ ♥︎ by author, yourinstagram

↳ oscarfan1 aweee mama piastri

↳ yourinstagram love you 🥺

username3 imagine chilling in the library procrastinating some homework and you turn around and oscar piastri is there

yourinstagram i love you so much squish 🫶 ♥︎ by author

↳ oscarfan1 why are her pet names for him so damn adorable

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yourinstagram i can’t believe it’s my last week here and i’m going to be a real lawyer soon 😳

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username1 GRADUATION IS SOOOON OMG

username2 i’ve been following you since you graduated high school and posted tips about college applications and now you’re about to finish college omg ♥︎ by author

oscarfan1 OMG OSCAR MUST GO TO HER GRADUATION

lilymhe congratulations smart girl 🤍🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram thank you lovely 🫶

oscarfan2 THE LAST PICTURE IM YELLING

username3 she has the coolest life ever

mclaren Everyone in the papaya department is super proud 🧡

↳ yourinstagram ilysm mclaren admin

logansargeant How come you’re still dating my friend, who barely finished high school 😂 congrats!

↳ yourinstagram he’s cuuuuute 🥺

↳ oscarfan1 oscar’s friends are always dragging him help

↳ landonorris And can’t win a GP

↳ oscarpiastri You surely got confident after Miami, Lando Onewin ♥︎ by author, georgerussell63, alex_albon

↳ landofan1 STOOOOOP😭

oscarpiastri I’m always proud and in awe of you, but specially now 🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ oscarfan1 I LOVE SIMP OSCAR

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f1updates “My girlfriend graduating from Columbia Law School next week so as soon as the job is done here I’m heading to New York. I’m really proud of here and I wouldn’t miss this moment for anything else.” - Oscar Piastri for SKY Sports

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oscarfan1 OMFG IM CRYING

oscarfan2 smile heart eyes and blush make an appearance again

oscarfan3 he’s super proud you can tell by his eyes

oscarfan4 flexing his lawyer girlfriend as he should

oscarfan5 SO HIGH SCHOOL IS ABOUT THEM

oscarfan6 my definition of a simp

yourinstagram has added to their story

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 865,388 others

oscarpiastri My girlfriend is a lawyer 💙

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oscarfan1 I LOVE THISSSSS

oscarfan2 WHAT IF I CRY

username1 that cake is too iconic i need it

georgerussell63 Congrats YN! ♥︎ yourinstagram

oscarfan3 the cake is that tiktok audio 😭😭

nicolepiastri We’re all so proud of you @yourinstagram 👩‍🎓🤍 ♥︎ by author, yourinstagram

↳ oscarfan1 mama piastri loves her they’re getting married

↳ yourinstagram love you! thank you for the unconditional support 🥺

charles_leclerc Well done 👏👏 ♥︎ by yourinstagram

lilymhe 💓💓💓 ♥︎ by yourinstagram

username2 imagine having a columbia degree AND a hot boyfriend i can’t relate

mclaren Our favorite lawyer 🧡 ♥︎ by author, yourinstagram

↳ oscarfan2 the mclaren intern just loves yn

oscarfan4 good time to remind everyone that oscar barely finished high school but he somehow bagged a lawyer girlfriend

landonorris Yooo congrats @yourinstagram I can speed while driving and pass red lights now that I have someone who can get me out or jail for free

↳ landofan1 LANDO PLEASE 😭

↳ yourinstagram please do not do that i beg you

landonorris You’re welcome for the cake idea btw

↳ oscarfan1 I KNEW oscar could never come up with that

↳ yourinstagram so it was you ! huh

↳ oscarpiastru Shhhh

yourinstagram i love you so much ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author

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yourinstagram you know how to ball, i know aristotle 🤍 proof that we’re both awkward for pictures

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username1 CUTIES

oscarfan1 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH 😭

oscarfan2 they really said 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️ ♥︎ by author

mclaren 🧡🧡 ♥︎ by author

oscarfan3 they match each other’s freak

alexandrasaintmleux ❤️ ♥︎ by author

username2 you look so cute together

nicolepiastri My babies 🥺 ♥︎ by author, oscarpiastri

landonorris Hug your girlfriend wtf @oscarpiastri

↳ landofan1 😭😭😭

↳ oscarpiastri Don’t tell me what to do thank you very much

oscarfan4 that lyric is literally THEM

username3 pretty, smart and a swiftie we love to see it

oscarpiastri I’m the trophy boyfriend 🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 ugh i need a man like him

↳ oscarfan1 exactly oscar know your place

[lovelettersfromluna]

Too Sweet

Summary: Getting divorced from your ex wife after a measly two years of marriage wasn’t exactly your plan, so now you’re packing up and moving back to your quiet small town, will old flings bring back even older feelings?

an: Count on me to hop from dark brooding vampire Ellie to high school sweethearts Ellie within the same month. Let’s just be completely honest, are you even apart of this community if you haven’t dabbled in mechanic!ellie? Long story short, I’m a sucker for a summer romance, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: MDNI!! eventual smut in later chapters!!, this one is sickly sweet I’m sorry (but also very angsty), reader is a bit of a tough cookie at the beginning of this (her hearts broken and her walls are back up what do you want me to do), mentions of cheating (no main characters don’t worry, mentions of alcohol consumption (all characters are 21+ ofc), lots of flashbacks, lots of kissing, pet names (baby, princess, angel, and a few special ones), mentions of cigarettes, pls lmk if I missed anything!!

Read part 2 here!!

The summer breeze was cool against your body, the linen blanket protecting your bare legs from the prickly grass, the stars even seemed extra brighter, almost putting on a show for you and Ellie as you both gazed up at them.

The summer after your senior year of high school seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. One moment, you were walking across the stage in front of your entire class, taking she diploma you’d worked for since you were in kindergarten, all of those countless years of school finally coming to that moment, and the next, you’re laid out on the ground in your backyard with Ellie, soaking in the feeling of your last night together before it was time to leave for college.

You noticed Ellie’s hand reach up, finger pointing to a small pair of stars at the very corner of the deep navy blue sky.

“See those two? Tucked away in the corner? I think that one’s us…” she hummed out. It sounded like she was sure of it too, like it was a well known fact that she was simply sharing with you. It makes you giggle, rolling over to straddle the girl beneath you.

And it’s like the very stars above are in her eyes when she’s looking up at you, her hands caressing your soft, bare thighs, watching as your hair frames your face oh so perfectly. One of her hands reaches up, tucking it behind your ear as she gives you a soft smile.

“Who told you could be so fuckin pretty?” She pouts out playfully, almost angry with how beautiful you are. It makes you roll your eyes, bringing your hand down and giving her cheek a soft pinch.

“Shut up…” you mumble out, quickly becoming shy beneath your girlfriend’s gaze.

In that moment, you realize just how much you’ll miss moments like this. You were going off to the big city to live your dreams and go to college, and Ellie was staying behind because frankly, school was never really her thing. You knew that when both your decisions had been made, that it would more than likely affect your relationship. The thought makes you frown, and Ellie notices immediately.

She’s giving your thigh a soft pinch, sitting up and giving you all her attention.

“I thought we said no pouting today…you promised” she sighs out, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. It doesn’t really help, your hands loosely wrapping around her shoulders as you stare down at her lap that you’re settled on.

“I just…know that everything will change tomorrow” you sigh out, a soft pout on your lips as you avoid Ellie’s gaze.

She hums out in understanding, listening to your worries, simply allowing you to voice them. She lets a moment pass by before she responds.

“It’ll only change if we let it…I’ll come visit you all the time, and you need to come back to bake me and my dad cookies” she hums out nonchalantly, giving you a gentle shrug, which only earns a soft huff and a nudge from you to her shoulder.

“I’m serious El…I hate the idea of being without you…” you huff out softly. She chuckles as you give her a shove before she leans in to give you another soft kiss.

“I am being serious…” she drawls out, pulling away from you and cupping your cheek softly, staring into your eyes with so much love and care, it was almost unbearable.

“You’ll always be my girl…you know that” her voice is above a whisper, as if you and her were the only two people in the world. Sat there, in the quiet back yard of your even quieter neighborhood, the wind chimes clanking together on the front porch, paired with the sound of the rustling of the trees in the breeze, all of it coming together to create something of a perfect lullaby that can only be described as Ellie.

And her words make your heart bloom, giving you the hope that you needed to wake up in the morning and start your journey as a small town girl in the big city, knowing that if all else fails, you’d always have your Ellie to look forward to and depend on when you needed her.

Your cheeks almost feel sore with how big you’re smiling, leaning in and pressing a loving kiss to your girlfriends mouth, to which she accepts gladly, strong hands on your hips as she pulls you down to lay on her chest as her back hits the ground softly.

“I love you so much, Ellie…” you sigh out against her lips, barely giving yourself enough time to say it between the passionate kiss you two share. It makes her smirk against your lips, nodding as she gives your waist a gentle squeeze.

“Love you more, dream girl..” she hums out against you as she practically drowns herself in you.

It’s funny, because while that all felt like it happened just yesterday, it had been almost five years since you’d last seen Ellie Williams in the flesh.

Because as most teenage girls do, they aim for the stars. They believe that the sky’s the limit in the adult world, and where there’s a will there’s a way, and tons of other stupid sayings that are just words used to promise yourself something that may or may not happen.

All of it was just that, words that didn’t amount to anything.

Because you didn’t expect for the city and college to be the way that it was. The first night you moved into your apartment was one of the most hectic you’d ever experienced. You were a girl from a comically small town, catapulted into this fast paced world filled with adults who were going and coming from work, other students trying to make a name for themselves, and people simply trying to live.

To put things into simpler terms, you just weren’t available enough to keep Ellie in your life.

While she spoke to you on the phone almost the entire night of your first night in your apartment, soothing you and helping you sleep, and she made sure to text you in the morning and make sure you had everything you needed, your responses on the other end just became less and less frequent. Phone calls slowly stopped, text messages weren’t getting answered, and you gradually disappeared from Ellie’s life, the city swallowing you hole and keeping you away from her.

The worst part about it? You barely even noticed Ellie wasn’t in your life anymore. Between your classes and your job, you barely had enough time to breath let alone keep a relationship with your girlfriend.

It wasn’t until about a year into city life that it all happened. You were so absent, that you didn’t even realize Ellie sent you a message one day saying it was best to just be friends rather than try to keep a relationship, wishing you the best in a way that sounded far too understanding.

Before you knew it, you found a girl to take Ellie’s place in your heart. She was smart, and kind, and from the moment you laid eyes on her in a bar in the city one night after exams, you knew she had to be yours.

Soon enough she was, the two of you moving a bit too fast for your parents taste. Getting married fresh out of college wasn’t exactly what they wanted for you, but you were happy! And that’s all that truly mattered to you.

Man, should you have listened to them.

Two years. Two fucking years with the girl you were planning on devoting your loyalty to for the rest of your life was all you had, all you were given until you caught her fucking her coworker into the mattress of the bed you two shared. To say you didn’t see it coming would be a lie. Your ex wife was a fucking moron who couldn’t lie to save her ass. You’d only been gaslighting yourself for the last six months of your marriage into thinking she was just going through a rough patch or even planning some romantic getaway for the two of you.

No romantic getaways though, only heartbreak.

It was like you couldn’t even cry when you saw it, your body freezing at the sight of them in your bed once you followed the very loud trail of moans leading to your bedroom. The idiots, they didn’t even have the decency to do it in a fucking hotel or something.

So as your wife’s (ex wife) chasing you through your apartment, watching as you silently grab your suitcase and throw your things into it, the girl on your bed watching with wide eyes as she grips your favorite silk sheets against her chest to cover herself, you only truly have one thing on your mind.

“Come on baby…I…it was one time! You have to believe me!” She’s calling out like a wailing child, and the voice you once loved with all your heart sounds like nails on a chalk board. You swiftly tug your wedding ring off of your finger, tossing it onto the coffee table.

“My lawyer will send over the divorce papers” you speak out clearly, wanting her to hear ever fucking syllable that exits your mouth before you leave the apartment with the door slamming behind you, muffling her pathetic pleas behind the door.

You needed to go home.

Driving back to your home town was something you’d always imagine would be therapeutic. You imagined yourself packing your kids into a car with your wife, and making the drive all the way back to show them where their mommy grew up, allowing them to see a side of you that not many got to see.

This drive was nothing like that.

Instead, you were alone. Your old Cadillac your dad gifted you as a graduation present was practically begging you to get back on the road again. While it felt good to drive instead of taking a bus or a train, the circumstances made your heart ache.

While you didn’t cry when you initially found out about your wife’s affair, it all seemed to hit you on the drive back home, crashing down on you and making it hard to breath. You had to pull over and collect yourself for a good thirty minutes because the tears in your eyes were blurring your vision too much to drive.

You couldn’t even feel excited to go home, not with the overbearing weight of heartbreak leaving an ugly feeling in your chest.

It’s like your town is frozen in time. The same stores are there, the same shady trees, everything is just how you left it. It comes as a relief to you, because if your town had undergone a shitty futuristic makeover by some big corporate asshole looking for new business opportunities, you probably would’ve lost your mind.

The street where your house sits is just the same. There are kids riding their bikes up and down the quiet block, reminding you so much of yourself when you were their age. They even wave to you, giggling and smiling at you as if you’d been there the whole time, even though you’re sure a handful of them were born well after you’d left town.

And there your house sits, quiet and empty, practically waiting for someone to step in and fill her up. She’d been void of any of your family members ever since your parents became empty nesters and decided to travel the world. They of course let you know that the house was more than yours when they found out about your divorce. They told you they’d been needing someone to step in and take over for a while now since they’d been gone, that you were just the person they needed.

You knew they were saying that just to make you feel better.

Stepping out of your car and looking up at the house that you once called home makes your emotions all the more intense. It makes you feel old, but it makes you feel like you’d moved too fast all at the same time, your feelings contradicting each other in that sense. You have to take a deep inhale, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill out onto your cheeks as you took a moment longer to take in the big house before you decided it was time to start moving your stuff into the house.

Besides a new couch and some new paint, the house is virtually the exact same as the way you left it. It makes your heart ache, because you realize you haven’t been back since the night you left when you were eighteen years old. You were too eager, too excited to leave behind the life your parents had built around you from the day you were born, that you neglected to even visit the world that they’d created for you.

It makes you feel like a bad daughter.

And suddenly you’re crying again, with no one to hold or console you, remind you that everything is fine and it only feels like the world is crashing down on you. Your life had gone in a way that you’d never expected, taking a course that you never saw for yourself, and it had its way of ignoring everything that you’d achieved, instead making you feel like a failure.

Your bedroom hasn’t changed either. The same shitty posters and figurines are still littered along your walls, your desk and your dresser, reminding you of all the silly little interests and hobbies you had as a young girl.

All the ones you’d forgotten as an adult.

It makes your heart ache, because it feels like everything is just crashing down on you and making you feel like all the things you’d been ignoring are practically begging, forcing you to acknowledge them, forcing you to feel them.

That first night back consists of you crying in the bath, followed by crying in your bed until you’ve fallen asleep.

You don’t leave the house for a few days, almost a week, thanking the forces of the internet that DoorDash had come to your small town, allowing you to feed yourself without the consequences of stepping out into town.

You weren’t ready for that. You weren’t ready for the people of your town to recognize you, to see the once happy, golden girl of their town that made it out of it all to get to the big city, back. Now lacking that sparkle she used to have in her eyes.

They all cared about you deeply, you could see it in the way they asked your parents constantly about you. But you couldn’t face them, not yet.

It doesn’t take long for the rest of your things that you’d shipped down to arrive at your house, a big truck stopping outside your house one early morning before setting everything in your garage. Once they left, you were faced with the task of moving all of the shit you’d accumulated in the city, into your new home.

And what a surprise it was when you were just about to grab a big box, only to see a familiar old grey truck pull up into your driveway next to your car.

Joel hadn’t changed at all. He was still just as old and burly as you remembered, his eyes crinkling at the edges with those familiar little wrinkles and his smile shining through the thick hair covering the bottom half of his face.

“Well would you look at who the cat dragged in” he chuckles out as he steps out of his car, old boots settling down onto the hot concrete of your driveway as his hand rested on the top of the car door.

His presence is enough to light up your face, quickly setting down the box as you rush out of the garage to meet the man outside of his car. The feeling of his strong arms wrapping around you in what could only be described as the closest thing to what hugging a bear feels like, temporarily mends your broken heart.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again…it’s good to have you back kid…” he sighs out, chin pressed to the top of your head as you press your head against his chest. You can smell the faint scent of pine and cigarettes, further proving how much Joel has managed to stay the same since you’d last seen him.

You don’t trust yourself to respond, feeling the familiar tightening of your throat, the burning at your eyes and the tingle in your nose.

Joel had become somewhat of a second father to you, what with you and Ellie growing up together and all. Between your dad and hers being best friends, and you and Ellie being as close as you were, only to end up dating in high school, it wasn’t exactly a shock that you two had become so close with each others families.

Despite the heat of the summer time sun beating down on the both of you, you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. It feels like he’s the first person that’s hugged you in a long time and you’re fighting back the urges to cry with a fucking bat.

He chuckles softly, giving you a gentle squeeze before he pulls back, looking down into your eyes only to see that they’re pooling up with tears. You remind him so much of that little girl that was in and out of his home, stealing his daughter’s heart and running off with it to the big city to chase your dreams.

He can see so clearly just how much you’re hurting.

It makes him frown, bringing his hand up to ruffle your hair playfully.

You sniffle, biting back your tears as you stare up at the man. “What are you doing here?” You croak out, far too choked up to get a proper sentence out.

He hums softly as he looks up at the house, and then to the boxes filling up your garage, which he gestures to. “Your folks gave me a call…said you’d been comin’ home…they asked if I’d be able to help you get settled in” he explained, his eyes squinting a bit as if to size up the amount of things you had to take up before he gave a firm nod, as if confirming he’d be more than able to.

He looks back down at you, giving you his signature warm smile before he continues. “I was indeed free…so here I am” he confirmed with a chuckle.

You simply blink up at him, trying to gauge whether or not he knows, if your parents told him exactly why you were coming home along with telling him that you were coming back in the first place. Clearly you were moving back home, and he knew that you’d been married.

But he doesn’t say anything further. He doesn’t say he’s sorry, he doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He simply treats it like you’re just coming back home because you want to, not because you’re running away from something.

You decide to simply leave it at that.

Soon you’re giving him a soft smile, nodding as you look back at the boxes before leading him into the garage. You let out a soft sigh as you look at the work cut out for you two before you gesture towards them.

“It’s a lot, Mr. Miller…and I don’t expect you to help with everything so-“ he’s quickly cutting you off, the older man scoffing as he bends down to grab one of the bigger ones in a way that’s far too impressive for a man his age.

“Mr. Miller? The city went and made you all formal? Now…come inside and show me where you want these” he hums out casually, making you giggle softly before you grab a box yourself, moving to walk in front of him before you nod inside.

“Fine…but at least let me feed you once we’re finished” you make sure to add before leading him inside and show him where to place the box he had.

Soon, it’s nearly mid day and your garage is free of boxes. You almost don’t believe how quickly you and Joel were able to get all of the boxes in, the man moving quick for his age. You had to bite your tongue from mentioning it, knowing that he’d scoff and tell you he could run circles around the young kids asses any given day.

He of course lets you hold up your end of the bargain, making him a sandwich and some freshly squeezed lemonade just in time for lunch. Sitting down with him at your kitchen table makes you face just how lonely you’d been in that house. Sure, you didn’t mind doing things on your own, you were by yourself for the first three years of college before you met your ex wife. There was just something about being in your childhood home that was once bustling with life, always buzzing with the sounds of a family, now only filled with you and the soft patter of your feet against the wooden floor when you had to get from one point to another, that seemed to leave your heart feeling even more hollow than it already had become.

You knew that with some food and some spare time to simply sit with each other, conversation would erupt between you and Joel, so it didn’t come to a surprise when he finally mentioned the elephant in the room.

The plates were filled with crumbs and some discarded sandwich crust, glasses half filled with ice and a few lemon edges as you sat across from each other, the warm summer breeze blowing the lacy curtains further into the house.

“I don’t mean to pry…but what made you decide to come home?” He questions innocently. You know he isn’t doing it to gossip or lurk too deep in places that he doesn’t belong, he’s simply curious. He could see that look in your eyes when he first got there, and he knew that there was something behind them begging to get out, begging to be heard.

It makes you hum, your fingers lazily wrapped around the white and yellow striped straw in your cup, swirling around the remnants of your drink before you let out a soft sigh.

“I um…my wife and I got divorced…” your words trail off, almost ashamed to say them. You let out a soft scoff, nodding as you catch Joel’s shocked face before you continue.

“She was sleeping with her coworker…in our bed…” you pour salt on the wound with that one, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you sigh, finally looking over at Joel to see he’s giving you and apologetic frown, his hand reaching over to grip your hand on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Kid…I….fuck…I’m sorry” he tries, and you’re shaking your head to stop him before he can even continue further.

“I shouldn’t have married her so quickly…my parents told me it wasn’t a good idea but I…was too eager” you mumble out with a shrug before you give him a soft smile, your hand moving up to give his a squeeze instead, wanting to assure the now sad man that everything was fine.

“I’m okay Joel…really…if anything it’s karma for what I did to Ellie-“ he’s quickly cutting you off, seeing the way you’re simply talking out of your ass at this point.

He’s shaking his head, settling back in his chair before he cuts you off. “No…nuh-uh…Ellie has never blamed you for how things ended and you know that” his voice gets a bit more firm, wanting you to fully understand what he’s trying to convey.

You can’t help but frown as you stare down at the old kitchen table, far too deep in thought to even listen to the man. He can tell, he can see that you’re zoning out and getting deep in your head, so he pushes himself forward, resting his forearms on the table as he gets a bit closer to you.

“She knew how much leaving meant to you…she’s never once blamed you for anything” he tries again, this time trying to convey to you how truthful his words were, how much he truly meant them.

Hearing her name only makes your heart hurt more.

Because it felt like the universe was punishing you for not choosing her, for choosing the wrong girl instead of the one that you’d be given, the one that was simply perfect for you. You knew you were wrong for it, but was all of this necessary?

You don’t say anything, simply giving the man a soft smile before you nod, moving to grab the empty plates and cups and moving them to the sink, desperately trying to escape the conversation.

You hear him hum softly behind you, knowing it means he’s going to speak further. “She owns the car shop in town….bought it off of Mr. Johnson a little while after you left…” he explains.

The thought of Ellie had crossed your mind the moment you came to terms with the fact that you were moving back home. She crossed your mind a lot, but knowing that there may or may not would come a time where you’d have to face her again had your stomach in knots. You knew little to nothing about Ellie now, you didn’t know what she was doing or whether or not she was still living in town, you didn’t even know if she was with someone or not.

So to hear her father confirming that she was in fact still there, still around and not angry or bitter over the way things happened, it felt all too much like Joel trying to play Cupid between his daughter and her high school girlfriend.

His words make you freeze for a moment, your hands stilling against the dish and the sponge in your hand. He notices this, standing up from his seat at the table and moving to stand next to you, his palms pressing against the counter as his neck cranes down to eye you carefully.

“You should stop by…say hello…if you want” he assures you, wanting you to know that it was completely up to you and what you were comfortable with. You finally look up, giving the older man a soft smile before nodding.

“I…thanks Joel…for everything” you manage, finishing up the dishes before you grab a nearby rag to dry your hands. He smiles warmly as he nods before he brings his hand up to check his watch, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door.

“I’ll be heading out now then…I have some things I need to take care of in town” he explains, looking down at you and giving you a slight nod. “You call me if you need anything missy…you hear?” He firmly reminds you before cracking a smile, reaching out and giving your arm a gentle squeeze before you walk him out of your house.

That night, Joel’s words echo throughout your head, and all you can think about is seeing Ellie again. Should you even consider it? Was it even a good idea for a newly divorced girl to be dabbling in the world of her old flings? Her first fling to be exact?? It all somehow sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Yet you couldn’t stop yourself from mentally searching through your closet for an outfit to wear on your first official outing.

After about another week of sulking in your house, you finally haul an old pair of denim shorts and a nice white linen blouse and force yourself out of your front door. Sure, you would’ve preferred crawling under your sheets and sobbing into your pillow, wondering why this had to happen to you, and why you couldn’t have a long happy marriage like everyone else, but healing had to start somewhere. You knew that you couldn’t do any of that if you continued wallowing in your own self pity.

The sun does a good job at pulling you out of your home. The weather was too nice to stay stuck inside of an old house all day. Summer vacation was in full swing, paired with the neighborhood kids bringing out the old sprinkler and everything, you’re sure you can even hear the ice cream truck coming down the road when you’re pulling out of your driveway.

It’s like you can finally see the beauty of your little town whenever you’re put together with the intention of coming out. It’s almost like the opposite of living life with rose colored glasses, instead you were blinded by a grey fog that came with your divorce, keeping you from truly seeing all that your home town had to offer.

Being in town does more for you than you’d ever imagine. Visiting the old faces that were once apart of your day to day almost makes it feel like you’d never left. Mrs. Charlotte still owns the little produce store, you’d always visit her after school and on the weekends because she always had some of the best strawberries no matter the season. The smile on her face when she saw you was one like no other, the woman grabbing you and pulling you into her chest the moment she saw you walk into her shop.

Mr. Johnny still owned the local photography store, he gave you your first job when you were sixteen years old. He’s partially to thank for helping you pay for college. You couldn’t believe your eyes when his little girl that you used to babysit was getting ready for her final year in high school, working in the same position you were when you were her age.

And Mr. and Mrs. Peters made sure to stop you when you were passing by their old pet store, Mrs. Peters unable to believe her eyes when she saw the golden girl passing by her old shop. She scolded you for not writing her earlier, letting her know that you were coming into town. You make it up to her by telling her you’re here to stay, and that you’ll make it a point to have both her and her husband over for dinner one of these days whenever they’re free.

So? Nearly nothing has changed. Sure, everyone’s gotten a bit older, but so have you. You’ve changed, and you’ve grown, and you’re so much different and so much more than the small towns golden girl that finally made it out to the big city, just to get her heart broken in the process of it all.

And that’s what you remind yourself as you find yourself pulling up to the familiar car shop that Joel had mentioned the week before.

It’s no surprise that Ellie ended up finding herself to be the owner of the local car shop in your town. She’d always loved cars, working on them, fixing them up, everyone in your school knew that if you had a problem with your vehicle, you’d call Ellie. She was the one that came together with your dad to fix his old Cadillac, fixing her up, turning her out and making her brand new for your adventures in the big city.

Standing in front of her shop makes your heart beat right out of your chest. But you’re here already, so you might as well just suck it up and walk right in.

As you do so, you can’t help but let the lingering thoughts take over. The suns already setting at this point, and you’re sure she’s close to closing up if she hasn’t already. What even was the point? Ellie probably didn’t even wanna see you! This was all Joel’s idea and what if he was just trying to make you feel-

“I’ll be right there!” You hear a familiar voice call out from the back, making your heart beat faster just from the sound of it.

She sounds the same, yet more mature. Her voice deeper with a bit of roughness to it, making her sound all the more irresistible. It makes you stand in the opened garage of her shop, surrounded by all of the cars that are opened up or hoisted up into the sky, your hands gripping your bag almost nervously as you stand there, frozen, unable to move.

Soon, she’s emerging from the back. She has a pair of navy overalls on, the sleeves tied around her waist, leaving her top half in a white wife pleaser, both of which were covered in motor oil and grease. Her arms are bigger, and covered in tattoos, something you remembered her saying she’d do the second she got the money for it. She’s taller too, and her hair is shorter, gone is the familiar pony tail she always had, instead it stops just at the nape of her neck, messily tossed into a bun while a few strands rests against her skin. her features stronger too, sharper.

She’s so different, yet so similar to the Ellie you remember, your Ellie. She still has the power of taking your breath away with a single glance.

“Well I’ll be damned…is that the dream girl?” She chuckles out with a soft smirk on her lips, pulling a red rag from her back pocket to wipe her hands clean. The nickname leaves goosebumps trailing down your skin.

Dream girl.

You recall the nickname from the many times you were with Ellie. Back when you two dated, she’d go on and on about how perfect you were, how she knew you were the girl of her dreams, animated into real life from the moment she laid eyes on you. You were the girl of her very dreams, and she never failed to remind you of that. Ever.

Hearing her call you that has your lips twitching up into a shy smile as you give her a shrug.

“In the flesh…” you mumble out, biting back an embarrassed giggle as the girl clearly drinks you in, eyes shamelessly raking up and down your body.

“Jesus…come here!” She groans out as she rushes towards you, strong arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you up, spinning you around as she keeps you in her arms. It makes you laugh loudly, a deep guttural laugh leaving your lips, possibly for the first time since your divorce.

The feeling of Ellie’s strong arms wrapping around your body feels like your missing puzzle piece has been given back to you, like you’ve been reunited with a part of you that you left behind far too long ago.

But she’s so much stronger now, and she’s older and…and…

It all just feels so right.

“Ellie stop! Put me down, you’re filthy” you whine out, landing a playful slap to her sweaty arm as she chuckles, finally setting you back down onto the floor.

She chuckles softly, settling her hands on either one of her hips as she lets out a sigh, a soft smile on her face. “I’m surprised the town hasn’t thrown a damn parade when they heard you’d be here…my god” she sighs out, practically in awe with your very appearance.

“Come on back, I’m just finishing some paperwork before I close” she nods her head to the back where she was moments ago, which you quickly follow her as she guides you.

Her garage is empty except for her, most likely working overtime after her employees had gone home, which was very much like Ellie. The walls are covered with the same posters of the bands you knew Ellie loved, as well as a healthy collection of vintage car photos, which isn’t a shock at all since those were always the center of Ellie’s car obsession.

The place seems nice and worn in, it suits Ellie in the best way.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear her let out a soft hum. She’s leaned up against her work table, wiping her hands off further with her red rag before she tosses it over her shoulder, crossing her toned arms across her chest as she eyes you fondly, a soft smile on her face.

“You haven’t changed one bit…” she hums out, eyes trailing on your face as she keeps that fine smile on hers. It makes you feel shy, the same way you felt all those years ago when your feelings for Ellie really started to shine through, and every little thing she’d say would have you giggling like an idiot.

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile as your top teeth sink into your bottom lip, shrugging as you move your hands up to loosely rest on your own arms.

“Please…the city has practically chewed me up and spit me out…I’m surprised I don’t have wrinkles yet” you huff softly, bringing your hand up to your forehead to make sure you weren’t frowning again, a habit you’d picked up recently.

Getting cheated on made you far too miserable.

She chuckles, shaking her head as her pink tongue darts out to lick her lips, still soaking you in like she would the sun.

“Nah…a face like that? Not even the city could ruin” she adds, giving you a small wink.

It warms you heart up in the best of ways, finally giving you a moment to stand still and enjoy life without letting the actions of your ex wife consume you. She makes you forget all about it, reminding you of a time where the thought of getting cheated on, didn’t even cross your mind.

You two stand there for a moment, seemingly taking each other in, enjoying the moment. It’s clear that she’s flirting, and it feels so similar to the days of your old life. It feels like the times where you and Ellie would spend hours talking outside your house or hers, when you’d shyly smile and giggle at one another when you were unsure of your feelings, when things were fresh.

You can tell Ellie feels it too, because she’s quick to blink a few times in your direction before she clears her throat, smile dropping as she turns around to busy herself with something on her desk.

“How’s that wife of yours? Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding…was um….was busy” she mumbles out.

Although her back is facing you, you can practically hear the way her eyebrows furrow and her lips twitch into a frown. It was a subject that you two hadn’t spoken about much. You’d told Ellie about your ex wife when you two first started dating, and you told her about the engagement and the wedding you’d been planning, because before anything else, Ellie was your friend, and you two shared everything with each other.

But you couldn’t ignore the almost nauseating weight that settled in when you spoke to her about it. The way she tried to seem as happy for you as she could without letting underlying feelings bubble up to the surface.

You could sense that same weight now, as she asked you about the woman that broke your heart.

It rips you away from the little fantasy you’d been given with Ellie, reminding you of the dark reality of why you’d returned, and what it was that had forced you out of the city and back to your home town. Thinking about telling Ellie about what happened and actually doing it were two very different things, and the seconds of silence that passed between you began to turn into minutes, minutes where you silently begged to disappear into thin air instead of admitting to Ellie what it was that happened.

“Um…she…” you stuttered out, struggling for a moment before your eyes fluttered shut, and you took a deep inhale, grounding yourself before you finally spoke once more.

“We got divorced.” You finally manage to get out, your balled up fists finally relaxing down at your sides as your shoulders deflate, the weight of your situation finally releasing itself from your body as you admitted it to her.

You see her still for a moment, movements halting completely as she struggles to comprehend what it was that you’d said, what it was that she was hearing.

Hearing about your girlfriend was a jab to the chest, but it wasn’t like she didn’t see it coming. Plus, it’s just a girlfriend! And you were all the way in the city anyways, who was Ellie to be jealous of that? Hearing about your engagement was also fairly hard, it wasn’t like she spent countless nights at the bar drowning out her sorrows over the one that got away. Seeing your actual wedding invitation though? Man, that was fucking hard. Ellie isn’t entirely sure how she got through that part. Ignoring it was the easiest way how.

Ellie would spend night after night wishing on a single star that you’d get divorced from that woman, knowing deep down she wasn’t the right one for you. Call it a gut feeling or call it jealousy, whatever it was, there was a constant lingering feeling that Ellie had ever since you’d gotten married that left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that she felt wouldn’t end well with that girl.

And now you’re here, standing in the middle of her old car shop, telling her that you were in fact divorced, and one of the countless stars in the sky has listened to her.

But she can’t move. She’s frozen in place as she eyes the papers on her desk, that now have no purpose to her since the only thing she can focus on is your words. It makes you nervous, and you take it was an opportunity to clear your throat, wanting desperately to cut the silence in half.

“Your dad told me you owned this place now…so I thought I’d visit…” you mumble out awkwardly, struggling to find the words to say to Ellie as she simply stood there, back turned to you for what felt like an eternity.

She inhales deeply, finally turning around to face you. You weren’t entirely sure what you expected her expression to read, but you’re surprised to see that she’s frowning, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she leans her palms back on her desk, shaking her head a she eyes you.

“Always knew those city girls were no good…I’m sorry sweetheart” she sighs out genuinely. You give her a shrug, shaking your head as you send a half smile her way.

“I’m just glad it happened sooner than later…saying I have an ex wife is cool though” you snort out, which earns a chuckle from Ellie as she nods in agreement.

“Very cool…makes you sound all grown up” she winks at you before she nods her head at you. “You still staying at your old place? Or did you find somethin’ in town” she hums out, clearly trying to change the subject for your own comfort.

And hers….

You hum softly as you nod, gesturing off to the direction of your home. “Yup…my parents treat the place like it’s a vacation home…I was practically taking it off their hands” you sigh out in fake annoyance, which makes Ellie laugh softly as she nods.

“Man…haven’t seen those two in a couple of years. You’d think they’re on their honeymoon” she adds, making you giggle as well.

The summer breeze blows swiftly against your body, your hair blowing with it, fallen blossoms from the apple trees in town dancing along your feet. It doesn’t help that you’re dressed in the same pair of denim shorts Ellie used to love so much, looking all too familiar to the girl of her passed, yet so different at the same time.

She stares at you shamelessly, smiling fondly as she simply takes you in.

You furrow your eyebrows, biting back a smile as you eye her closely. “What are you staring at, Williams?” You ask her, clearly teasing the girl as she gives you a shrug, biting down on her bottom lip as she gives you a smile.

“You expect me to not stare when a pretty girl is stood in my shop? What do you take me for” she shoots out far too smoothly, making you roll your eyes. You shoo your hand at her, turning around to make your way back to your car, knowing that if you stay any longer, you’ll probably end up getting charmed by Ellie all over again.

As if she hadn’t already done that the moment you laid eyes on her.

“I’m freshly divorced missy…not exactly the top choice at the market” you scold her jokingly, giving her a small wave as you walk out onto the curb, making your way back to your car.

“Just wanted to stop by and say hello…don’t wanna keep you any longer” you hum out, giving the girl a small smile as your hand reaches for the handle of your car.

Ellie is moving before she can think, eyes widening as she quickly follows you out to your car, her larger hand gently resting over your own as she moves to pull your car door open for you.

“My um…my number hasn’t changed…if you still have it and you wanted to talk…or hang out or something…” she mumbles out shyly. For a moment, you see her drop the smooth, suave demeanor she had mere moments ago, saying all the right things and strumming all the right chords. For a moment, she’s Ellie. She’s the Ellie that stuttered and struggled to get the words out when she asked you out the first time, or asked you to be her girlfriend.

She’s the Ellie that you make nervous.

“Do you…have my number still?” She asks nervously, worried she’d been reading into this all wrong. It makes you giggle, nodding as you lean your back against your car, staring up at the girl before you speak.

“Of course I have your number, Ellie…wouldn’t lose it for the world” you hum out as you give her a soft smile, which has her eyes twinkling as she gives you a small smile.

“Good…” she managed out as she watches you get into your car.

She hums as she leans down, pressing her arms against the edge of your window, looking into your car before she looks at you. You feel your insides burning at how fucking close she is at that.

“A buddy of mine s’got a gig down at the Copper Cat this Saturday…if you wanted to come out” she casually invites you, eyeing you closely to try and gauge your response to it.

Your eyes widen a bit at the mention of the old bar, memories swirling into your head like a hurricane. “The Copper Cat?? That place is still opened??” You practically shriek in shock of the old bar still being up and running. Your response makes Ellie chuckle as she nods.

“Yup…and it’s better than ever too. They remodeled last summer” she explains, you don’t miss the proud smile on her face as she practically beams at you. You giggle softly as you nod slowly before you hum, looking down at your lap for a moment as you thought about it a bit. Your ex girlfriend was inviting you to some mediocre show at an even more mediocre bar in the small corner of your town, and you were newly divorced…

What could go wrong with that

You smile up at her before giving her a nod. “Text me and let me know what time you’ll be there” you give her a nod, confirming that you’ll come. You can see the see the way her eyes practically twinkle at that, nodding eagerly as she smiles.

“I’ll pick you up” she quickly replied, leaving no room for you to decline, because she’d already pushing herself up and off of your window, giving you a bright smile as she nods her head in the direction of the main road.

“Go on…before I keep you here even longer than I’m supposed to” she gives you a wink, which sends your heart until a flurry of emotions, sparking it all up all over again before you roll your eyes playfully, and drive off after giving her a small wave goodbye, her smile seemingly seared into the forefront of your brain as you grinned like an idiot while making your way back home.

God…were you fucked.

This wasn’t a date.

This was simply two old friends catching up after a long time! Ellie had asked you to come out because she probably felt bad for you. She could probably see the tears stained into your cheeks and the absolute trail of sadness that followed you around and thought, ‘this girl could use a night out’, so she invited you.

This wasn’t a date.

It was a pity invite! A date would have been some place nice. Ellie was romantic, you knew that. She’d treated you better in your puppy love relationship than most girls did while you were in the city, so of course suggesting to go to the bar was keeping it friendly.

This wasn’t a date.

It wasn’t a date. It was just you going out to a bar because you’re single now and you can do what you want without feeling guilty or wrong for doing fun things. That’s all. It wasn’t a date at all.

But if it wasn’t a date…why were you so fucking nervous.

You visited Ellie at her shop on Monday, you weren’t set to see her again until Friday night, so why was it the only thing you could think of? You could only think of what to wear, how to act, if you should text her or not, would that be pushy? Would that be overstepping? She told you her number hadn’t changed! So obviously that meant she wanted you to text her….right?

Right?

God, who knew at this point. All you knew, was that you were set to see Ellie this weekend. Regardless of it being a date or not, it was nerve wracking. So when Friday afternoon finally rolls around, you find yourself partaking in things that are a steering a bit too close to pre date activities.

Such as making sure your entire body was nice and moisturized, but that was just for you! That wasn’t for Ellie to touch or squeeze…or making sure your hair was cleaned and styled, that’s just because you want to be presentable! You can’t let the people of your town see the mess your ex wife made. Or doing your makeup and picking out the perfect outfit. That was simply because…you wanted to! Nothing more, nothing less.

You settled on a simple yellow sundress with pink flowers, it hugs your middle perfectly and flows down to your calves, making it just enough to look like you put a bit of effort into your appearance. It almost felt like a breath of fresh air to haul on any old pair of shorts or a nice dress to go out, something the city rarely allowed. The city was too into appearances, everyone needing to wear the best clothes and the trendiest styles when setting foot outside, especially on a night out. It was fun, but it became exhausting after a while, all you wanted to do was to wear your comfy clothes without getting nasty looks.

The beauty of living in a small town.

When you’re finally ready, you catch a quick look at yourself in the mirror, more than happy with your overall appearance before you take a deep breath, and send Ellie a text.

Hii :)

I’m all ready whenever you wanna come by

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for Ellie to read and respond to your messages.

Awesome :)

I’m omw

You smile softly at her messages, heart beating a bit faster at the thought of her coming over as you click your phone shut, and move to sit in your living room to wait for the girl to arrive.

It’s almost comedic how quickly you move to sit on your couch, knee bouncing anxiously as you wait for the girl to pull up to your house. Sitting there gives you too much time to think, too. Because what if this is a bad idea, what if you’re just blinded by the manic excitement that comes with seeing Ellie again, the thrill of being with her, because you’re still very much heart broken, and it isn’t like everything will simply disappear once she’s-

And suddenly you can’t think anymore, because all you can hear is a firm knock at your front door, echoing through your house.

It catches the air in your lungs and practically runs with it, leaving you panicking as your eyes flutter between the front door and the clock, and you realize it’s been about fifteen minutes since Ellie’s texted you, and you’d just been sitting on your couch overthinking as always.

Your feet seem to have a mind of their own as they carry you to your front door, moving to open it before you can even come to terms with opening up for it.

And if you think Ellie looked good when you saw her at her shop? God…you didn’t know what good looked like until now.

The white t shirt she wears hugs her body beautifully, covered by an old leather jacket that fits her even better. Her toned thighs are clad in what you can only assume to be expensive blue denim jeans, simply by how perfectly they fit her. It’s all covered with a fucking cherry on top when you take in her black boots, and a singular silver necklace dangling from her neck.

You’re sure she’ll notice your heart beating out of your chest any second now.

She’s smiling brightly when she takes you in, eyes raking down your form before she chuckles. “Look at you…could almost pass for one of us small town folk in that one..” she hums out, nodding in approval at your laid back outfit.

It makes you roll your eyes, landing a playful nudge to the girls arm as you adjust your bag further on your shoulder. “Please…I dressed like this even when I lived out there” you try to defend yourself, giving her a small frown before you nod your head out to her car.

“Should we get going? Wouldn’t wanna miss the main act” you hum, wanting to get out of your house desperately.

Half of the reason being because you seriously needed to get out of your house and socialize with people that weren’t your mother’s porcelain figurines….

And the other half being you simply couldn’t handle the close proximity of someone as good looking as Ellie much longer.

She hums softly as she nods, stepping to the side and she gives you a bit of space to walk out of your house. “After you, city girl” she teases you once again, earning yet another look of warning from your end, which she simply giggles at.

You can’t contain the gasp you let out when you finally lay eyes on Ellie’s ride. The vintage black mustang practically sparkles in the low light of the afternoon sun. You can’t help yourself from reaching out and running your fingers along the shiny body of the car.

“Jesus Christ Ellie….if I knew you’d pick me up in this, I would’ve dressed nicer” you practically gasp out. Ellie chuckles softly as she watches your reaction closely, nodding slowly as she looks at the car with you.

“Hey…city girl comes to town? I need to pull all the stops” she explains with a nonchalant shrug. It makes you groan in annoyance, because did Ellie truly have to be this perfect? Couldn’t she have grown up to be a moron like your ex wife?

Why did she have to be something out of a fucking romance novel.

You’re too in awe with the vehicle to acknowledge her remark, a soft, dreamy sigh leaving your lips as you bend down a bit to look at the cream colored leather interior. “You fix this up yourself?” You hum out softly, although you already knew the answer to that question, you wanted to hear her gloat about it.

You can practically hear the cocky grin on the girls face as she nods. “Is the sky blue? Come on angel…you know nobody does it like me” she grins out, moving to stand behind you.

“Longer you stare at her, less time you have in her…” she practically purrs out. You have to ignore the way your stomach does flips at her tone, nodding eagerly as you rush to the other side of the car, to which Ellie quickly beats you to it.

“Nu-uh-uh…a lady never opens her own door, especially a city-“ you press your hand to her mouth, silencing her from finishing her sentence as you give her a displeased look.

“Finish that sentence and I’m going back inside” you deadpan, which makes Ellie quickly nod as she gives you wide eyes, opening the door for you in silence. You giggle softly, patting her cheek gently before you get into her car. “Much better” you praise her.

She chuckles softly, waiting for you to get in before she rushes to her side to get in and start driving as well.

The familiar bar hasn’t changed at all since you’d last been there. It’s almost scary how much everything’s frozen in time in the small town, leaving little to no room for changes. It makes you sigh softly, a gentle smile on your lips as Ellie pulls into the parking lot.

“Man….this place really never changes, huh?” You sigh out almost in awe, which makes Ellie chuckle as she shuts the car off.

“What can I say….Our town prioritizes tradition” she teases before she looks over at you, giving you a soft smile before nodding her head towards the building. “Come on, my buddy should be up any moment now” she urges gently before she gets out of the car, prompting you to follow when she opens up the door for you.

Inside, the place is buzzing. Filled to the brim with the people of your town, young and old, all of them eager for a night of fun after a long week of work. The atmosphere differs greatly from what you’re used to, the clubs and bars back in the city always having a strange vibe to them, one that you couldn’t ever really put your finger on.

Being there, with the people that had been born and raised in the same town as you, you were finally able to remember what it was that was missing in the city…

It was that the people here, were actually having fun.

“I’m gonna grab a drink, you want one?” Ellie leans down next to you, her voice raising a bit to combat the loud music that was already playing. You hum softly, trying your best to ignore the way her scent fills your knows and almost makes you feel drunk. You merely give her a nod and a soft smile before leaning in to speak into her ear as well. “A rum and coke if that’s okay!” You shout out to her, which earns a smile and a nod. She gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “find us a spot, I’ll find you when I have them” she urges before disappearing off into the sea of people to find the bar.

You let out a breath you’d seemingly held from the moment Ellie picked you up from your house, exhaling loudly as you look around at the packed room. There are various booths and stools available to sit, but you opt to lean up against a nearby wall, mainly because you seriously needed a time out from the amount of people there.

You truly didn’t expect for so many people to be there, thinking that it would be a barely packed house with a few of Ellie’s friends there to watch the mystery person she’d been boasting to you about. You couldn’t tell if everyone was there to see the performance, or if they were there simply to socialize and drink. You figured it was a mix of both.

Quite a bit of time passes by, and it makes you wonder if Ellie got lost or was having trouble finding you or something. You knew it was stupid to stand on the wall, so you figure you’d search for her instead.

Pushing yourself off the wall and emerging into the sea of people makes you frown, apologizing and squeezing through various people, trying your best to map out where the bar should be. You feel you can just make out the flooded area, when you finally spot Ellie.

And the girl that’s been keeping her from you.

You can see Ellie holding your drink in her hand, and one you can assume is for herself as the girl chats her up. You can barely make out who Ellie is speaking to, but from the back? You can tell she’s a looker. Her pretty hair falling down her back, attractive figure, even the way she leans in and presses her hand against Ellie’s arm whenever she laughs makes it clear that this girl is pretty, because all pretty girls know how to flirt in just the best ways possible.

And it’s the strangest fucking feeling, because even thought you caught your ex wife fucking another woman in the bed you both shared, what you feel when you see another girl touching Ellie’s arm doesn’t come close to anything you’ve ever felt before.

Because you’ve never had to see this. You’ve never had to see someone else throw themselves at Ellie. When you were dating, everyone knew that you were hers and she was yours, and even before you two were dating, everyone assumed you were both off limits anyways. It was something that you never had to face, because in the entire time that you’d known Ellie, she was yours.

But now she wasn’t. And it was clear that everyone knew that.

It makes you want to turn around and go home, ignore the ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach, call a cab and hide in your house for another month. You weren’t ready for this, these feelings that you were faced with were too much, and too fucking confusing. You wanted your bed, and your room, and your house where you were safe and no one and nothing could hurt you, you just needed to turn around and-

“Awe, there she is. Over here!” Ellie’s voice calls out over the loud music, cutting each and every one of your loud, annoying thoughts in half. Your eyes widen a bit when the girl finally turns around, only confirming the point that you had come to earlier. If anything, she puts all of that to shame, because she’s even more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

You don’t recognize her, but she’s smiling brightly and waving you over as if she recognizes you, beckoning you over as if you’d all been friends since you were babies. You have to stop yourself from frowning, knowing both this girl and Ellie owed you nothing. You put on a smile, inhaling deeply and making your way over to the both of them.

“Sorry I took so long, I couldn’t find you anywhere” Ellie quickly apologizes as she hands you your drink. You quickly shake your head, clearing the lump that had formed in your throat before you give her a small smile.

“Uh…no worries. I was in an awkward spot anyways, so that’s my fault” you assure her.

She can tell something’s wrong just in the way you’re speaking, and it makes her eye you closely, trying to gauge your expression, eager to figure out what’s made the sudden change in your mood. It makes her frown slightly, eyebrows furrowed as she peers down to watch you before she leans in a bit. “You okay?” She questions softly, her hand coming up to squeeze your arm gently.

The tone of her voice and the hand on your arm makes you want to explode. It makes your head spin and it makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs, because Ellie does not owe you anything! She isn’t your girlfriend, and this is simply two friends catching up after not seeing each other for a long time, and it was absolutely doing your head in that she was speaking to you like that wasn’t the case.

So you give her a smile, nodding quickly as you shake her hand off of your arm. “I’m fine, just a bit flustered with the crowd…um…is this your friend?” You as gently as you gesture towards the girl that was politely standing there as you and Ellie had a moment, not daring to intervene as she quietly sipped on her drink and people watched, as to not make things even more awkward than they already were.

Ellie’s frown deepens when you shake her grasp off, eyeing the way her hand falls from your arm. It leaves a bitter taste on her tongue, not used to this far off, separated feeling that’s settled between the two of you. She wants to dwell on it further, but your question makes her blink out of her confused daze, looking over at the girl standing in front of her.

“Fuck…right, yes. This is Lilac, she moved into town a few years ago” Ellie explains.

Great, even her fucking name was beautiful.

You’re met with the prettiest pair of eyes when Ellie says her name, the girl smiling brightly as she hears Ellie introduce her.

“Ahh no need to be formal, darlin’. Ellie has told me so much about you” she practically squeals out.

You’re a bit taken aback when instead of shaking your hand, she tugs you in for a hug, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close, nearly making you spin your drink. Your eyes widen, using your free arm to wrap around her shoulders and hug her back. You catch Ellie chuckling softly as she brings her drink to her lips, trying to hide her smirk.

Lilac pulls away, pretty glossy lips pulled into a smile as she eyes you, a gentle sigh leaving your lips as she takes you in. “I was wondering when I’d get to meet you…I promise you, I’d hear at least half the town going on and on about you the first month of living here” she giggles out. You smile softly as you nod, taking a sip of your drink before you shrug.

“Sorry about that…I’ve been hiding I guess” you mumble out sheepishly, lips ghosting over the rim of your cup as you desperately try to take in as much of your drink as you could without slugging it down like an animal.

There was no way you’d be getting through this night sober.

Ellie watches as the two of you interact, smiling softly as she takes a sip of her own drink ever so often before she intervenes.

“Lilac works on the daily paper….came in and made it all fancy for us” Ellie chimes in. Her words make Lilac giggle softly, leaning in and pressing her hand against Ellie’s arm, giving her a gentle push.

You try your best to ignore how much that fucking annoys you.

“Oh please. All I did was order in some new printing paper and add pretty fonts. Don’t let her fool you” she chirps, leaning into you with raised eyebrows as she gives you a giggle. You don’t even have time to respond to her before she’s asking you another question.

“I hear you’re from the city…I’ve dreamed of being there all my life, can’t imagine what would bring someone back to a little town like this” she sighs out almost dreamily.

Although there’s no malice or blunt force to her words, you can’t help but take it that way. It’s clear she’s simply making conversation, trying to get to know you better. Maybe it’s the liquor slowly but surely making its way through your system, making you feel looser, making your tongue looser.

“Wasn’t really my plan” you make out, eyes drifting elsewhere as you bring your cup back to your lips.

God….you just wanted to go home.

She doesn’t quite catch the bitter tone in your words, because soon enough there’s an announcement echoing through the bar, and you know it’s time for that friend that Ellie had mentioned earlier to get on stage and perform.

Lilac squeals excitedly, jumping up and down as her hand grips Ellie’s arm, the girl clearly over the moon for whoever it was that was performing.

Great….she knew the guy too?

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, the foreign feeling of jealousy tapping on your shoulder, reminding you of all those intense feelings you’d once had for Ellie. Bringing your cup to your lips to occupy yourself makes you realize the drink was done, making you groan softly.

Your eyes drift over to Ellie and Lilac, both of them enamored with the man that was beginning his on stage. It makes you sigh softly before you lean into them, shouting over the loud music.

“I’m gonna get another drink, you guys want anything?” You barely make out over the loud guitar riff, the both of them denying before they brought their attention back to the musician. With that, you swiftly make your way through the crowd over to the bar.

The second you’re pressed up against the bar, it feels like you can breathe again. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest felt hot, hell, your entire fucking body felt hot. And the worst part of it all, is you could barely decipher the feelings that were plaguing your mind and body.

You sighed softly as you thanked the sweet bartender for the drink. There was enough space at the bar for you to turn around and gaze at the crowd, eyes drifting along the sea of people as you simply sipped on your drink, trying your best to regroup after the entire situation with Lilac.

Because it was weird. All of it was so fucking strange and it was doing your head in. The feeling that sank to the bottom of your stomach when you first laid eyes on them was one you couldn’t recognize. It was rare that you ever felt jealousy in your last relationship, which was honestly something that made you feel quite secure in your marriage. Your wife never truly gave you any reasons to feel that way, her attention always on you, never failing to make you feel like the only girl in the room. Thinking back to all of it, the way your marriage ended was almost comedic.

So seeing Ellie, your ex girlfriend of almost five years, and Lilac, one of the most beautiful girls you’d ever laid eyes on, simply laughing and touching one another as friends do? It made you want to rip the entire building you stood in, brick, by brick.

The thoughts alone make you frown, a gentle sigh leaving your lips as you stare down into the fizzy cup of ice, alcohol and soda in your hand. You felt…so conflicted, so wrong for allowing these feelings to fill you up and make you feel so intensely about someone who didn’t even feel that way about you anymore, and did you even feel that way about her anymore? It was just Ellie. She was your best friend before anything else, so what if she flirts with a pretty girl! You’d be stupid to think she didn’t have other people in her life after you left. What? Did you think she’d simply sit around waiting for you-

But when you finally lift your eyes up to scan the crowd again, what you find brings all of those thoughts to a halt once again.

Because now you’re seeing Ellie’s hand placed on Lilac’s middle, leaning in as the pretty girls lips ghosted along Ellie’s ear, giggling as she whispered unknown words to her.

And that’s when you realized, you couldn’t do this.

You quickly down the rest of your drink, shoving your hand into your purse and grabbing a fistful of money, sliding it over to the bartender and telling him to keep the change in a low voice. You pass the glass over to him, and begin making your way out of the sea of people in the dimly lit room.

You were stupid to think this was a good idea. Your emotions were so scattered, so messy and cluttered in your head. You were going through a fucking divorce, and now you were getting angry over the mere thought of your ex girlfriend standing next to another girl, let alone going further than that. You needed to get your shit together, and if that meant cutting newly mended ties with Ellie, then so fucking be it.

And it’s as if the once crowded bar isn’t able to cover your escape, because you can faintly make out the sound of someone calling for you. You cross your fingers, and hope that it’s someone from high school that just so happens to be there, recognizing you and trying to get a moment with you before you’re able to pounce out of the building.

But unfortunately for you, it’s not. You keep going anyways, hoping that Ellie will drop it or get caught up with someone or something else along the way of her high speed chase for you, but of course, she doesn’t.

You let out a loud sigh when you finally push past the heavy metal doors of the bar, the cool summer breeze wafting against your clammy skin, cooling down your warm cheeks. You hadn’t even realized it before, but you were practically covered in sweat from all the excitement that had washed over you in such a short amount of time.

Ellie is quick to wrap a gentle hand around your wrist, stopping you from running further.

“Hey…where you runnin’ off to? Shows barely even started” she pants out, her own cheeks flushed from pushing and shoving through people to get to you.

The ugly little monster that is jealousy dies immediately when you turn around to look at her. Partially because you know you need to quickly make up an appropriate excuse to your sudden departure, because surely you couldn’t tell her the true reason behind your disappearance…

And also because just looking at Ellie makes you feel whole again.

You let out a gentle sigh before giving her a half smile. “I’m uh…I’m pretty tired and I feel a tad drunk. You and Lilac looked like you were having fun so I didn’t wanna bother…” you explain, ignoring the way the sweet girls name leaves a rather bitter taste on your tongue.

Ellie nods, her expression gentle and understanding as she fishes her keys out of her pocket. “You should’ve told me. Come on, let’s get you home” she affirms with a soft smile, nodding her head towards her car as she begins leading you over.

Her words make you quickly shake your head, stepping in front of her to stop her from getting closer to her car.

“No! No Ellie it’s fine. You were really excited to come tonight and I don’t wanna stop you from having fun so just go back in and-“ you’re rambling at this point, a common habit you’d developed since you could speak. Ellie knew this, because every time you were flustered, or scared, or even happy, your emotions would get the best of you and you’d spew out words like a sprinkler.

So she chuckles softly, bringing her hand up to your arm and giving it a gentle squeeze as if to stop you.

“Slow down, peach” she hums out smoothly. The pet name makes your insides burn, her voice sounding like fucking butter as she soothes you, instantly calming you down and shutting you up just as she wanted.

“There you go…breath” she gives you an encoring nod, paired with another firm squeeze to your arm before she finally lets go, giving you a soft smile before she speaks again.

“I was excited to come out with you tonight. I see that guy perform every Friday” she explains with a soft laugh before she nods her head to her car once again.

“So, let’s get you home and in bed. Your parents would kill me if I let you roam around at night….even though your house is and ten minute walk from here” she shrugs before she presses her hand to the small of your back, leading you to her car without a choice.

It makes you whine softly, throwing your head back like a child as she opens up your door and helps you into the car. You aren’t even that drunk, a bit warm and tipsy, sure, but you were fine to make it home on your own.

However…her warm hand on your skin, paired with the babying, was nice.

Damn her for being so fucking perfect.

A soft huff blows past your pouted lips as she settles into the drivers seat next to you, which makes her snicker as she starts the car. “Quit pouting…it was getting too crowded in there anyways, was gonna suggest we head out right before you tried to ditch me” she shrugs nonchalantly, which earns a playful swat to her arm from your end.

“I was not ditching you! I really am tired” you protest, which only makes Ellie chuckle as she puts her hands up in her defense before she expertly pulls out of the parking lot, one hand on the steering wheel of course.

“Uh-huh….lets get you home then” she affirms as she gives you a wink before she makes her way to your house.

The summer breeze is cool against your skin, the windows down on Ellie’s car, soft music playing through it as you two simply enjoy the comfortable silence that falls between you both. It reminds you of the parties Ellie would drive you both home from, only for her to sneak up to your room with you and pass out in your bed, cuddled up into each other. Sneaking was a stretch, as your parents always knew she’d be spending the night when you two were out late.

The memories make the heart ache, and your throat swell, that familiar melancholy feeling filling you up at the reflection of the past staring at you in a pool of your memories.

You barely realize you’ve pulled in, the gentle hum of the car coming to a stop as Ellie lets her palms fall to her thighs, a gentle sigh leaving her lips as she stares up at your dark home, nothing but the porch light on to greet guests.

“Well…I hope you had fun tonight, peach…” she hums out softly when she finally turns to you, gentle green eyes shining in the dim lighting of her car, barely illuminated by the light beaming down from the moon in the clear night sky.

And you know you shouldn’t do it. You should just thank her for the night out, wish her a good night and go inside your house. You were tipsy, and you were extremely emotional, and you were lonely. All of it was a recipe for disaster, and you knew it.

But somehow, you don’t stop the words that fall from your lips.

“Do you wanna come inside?” You ask quickly, watching as the girls eyebrows raise in surprise at your sudden burst of hospitality. You inhale deeply before you continue.

“It’s late and…the least I could do is give you something to eat, or drink after making us leave early” you explain further, your hand gripping the edge of Ellie’s leather car seat as you stare at her.

When she doesn’t say anything, you feel like an idiot. She’s just staring at you and you suddenly feel like you’ve read into this all wrong, it’s been years! Why on earth would she want to come inside and hang out with her ex girlfriend, she probably has much better things to do.

“I’d love to” she beams out, giving you a bright smile before she opens her car door, gets out, and makes her way over to open yours to let you out.

You can practically feel the weight lift off of your chest when she agrees, a soft sigh of relief leaving your lips as you lead her to your front door, making your way up the steps and unlocking it before letting her in.

Ellie hums softly when you turn on the lights, eyes wandering around the familiar home as you toss your purse onto a nearby hanger, as well as kicking your shoes off near the front door.

She hangs her jacket up on the coat rack near the door like muscle memory right after she shuts the front door behind her, a soft smile on her lips as she watches you make your way to the kitchen and open up your fridge.

“I have water, iced tea, lemonade….” You list off the various contents in your fridge before you look over at the girl behind you, watching as she stands in the middle of your living room. “Water is fine” she hums out with a smile, which you nod and grab for her.

Your home is like a breath of fresh air compared to where you and Ellie where not even an hour ago, the two of you quickly falling into old habits as it takes no more than ten minutes for the two of you to make your way out to your back porch, taking a seat on the comfy outdoor couches your father had added in right before you moved out.

Another guttural laugh passes through your lips as you toss your head back, listening to Ellie catch you up on all the small town mishaps and shenanigans that you had missed, and yearned for oh so much since you'd gone.

"Are you kidding me? They fought over a decade old prom crown? I would have paid big money to see that shit" You gasp out, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye as you finally manage to catch your breath.

Ellie chuckles as she nods, bringing her water to her lips before she shrugs. "I'll tell you one thing, I had no idea those old ladies could move like that" She adds with a snort, ripping another burst of laughs from your sore chest.

You don't catch it, but Ellie simply watches you fondly as you toss your head back and laugh, a gentle smile playing on her lips as you struggle to find the words. It warms her heart even further to know that she was the one pulling that out of you, making you smile so big, laugh so hard.

You groan softly, exhaling tiredly as you place a hand on your chest as if to calm yourself. "Man....I seriously cannot remember the last time I've laughed this hard" You add, a soft, satisfied smile on your lips, unaware as to how sad your words may have sounded.

It hits you when you notice Ellie's gentle frown, the one that she gave whenever she was disappointed or when she knew something wasn't right.

"That's a shame...you used to laugh all the time when you were with me" She says matter-of-factly.

Her words catch you off guard, mostly because it was true. Being with Ellie was filled with nothing but smiles and laughs, the ones that had you keeling over and holding onto your belly as you shed a tear or two, unable to control the laughter that left your body, the happiness that filled you up when she was able to pull it out of you.

You hadn't even realized it, but you were pretty sure the last time you laughed like that, was with Ellie.

You hum softly, staring down at your lap as you toy with the frills of your dress, thinking back to all of those times, wishing so badly you could be that girl again.

Wishing you could live that life again.

It's getting late at this point, the warm summer breeze growing colder the higher the moon rises into the sky. It blows onto your skin, goosebumps littering your arms. You feel it's time to tell Ellie to leave, the air growing heavy as you both sit there in silence, her words hanging between you, begging to be responded to.

When you open your mouth to tell her that you're tired, and that she should probably head home, you're interrupted by the feeling of her calloused fingers gently gripping your chin, pulling you to look into her eyes.

"I....I don't know what happened...or why you two decided to split up..." she mumbles softly, and you know she's referring to your ex wife without even saying her name.

She inhales deeply, pink tongue darting out to wet her plump lips slowly before she speaks again. "But I couldn't imagine ever letting someone like you go....no matter what" she sighs out, her eyes staring into yours intensely.

And suddenly, you aren't you anymore. You are, but....you're a different you. You're the you that's filled with hopes and dreams, the you that wrote in her diary every night about everything she was going to do once she made it, the you that would peek her head out of her window to see her girlfriend standing out on her lawn, waiting to pick her up, take her out, and simply drive with the music on and the windows down, enjoying each others company.

You're the you, that's in love with Ellie.

Her green eyes sparkle like gems in the moonlight, the white light illuminating half of her pretty face, making a lump form in your throat as you struggle to find the words to say. You can feel her hand gently creep up to cup your face, and it makes your skin burn even hotter beneath her touch.

The familiar sound of the wind chimes rings through your ear, transporting you back to that very same night, five years ago when you were splayed out on the lawn that was a mere few feet away from you, kissing and loving on your girlfriend that you adored with all your heart.

Ellie hears them too, her eyes glancing up at them above your head. She chuckles softly, hand still caressing your cheek gently before she speaks. "Haven't heard those since the last time I saw you..." She hums out.

With that, it's as if your body moves itself for you, deciding your faith before you can, because you waste no time in leaning in and pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that can only be described as longing, having gone far too long without feeling the pair that they so desperately wanted pressed up against.

Ellie melts into you almost immediately, her other hand coming up to cup your cheek as she kisses you back passionately. Both of your hands come up to hold onto either of her wrists, keeping her close as you lean further into her, wanting more of the girl.

You need her more than air, easily letting her grip your thighs and tug you down to straddle her lap, your hands going up to tangle themselves in her soft hair. When she finally does break the kiss, her lips are on your neck, and your jaw, and your cheeks, and the corner of your mouth, eager to feel any part of you on her needy mouth as her hands roam your body eagerly.

"Missed you so fuckin' much...my dream girl" She moans out, making you whimper as you tug her hair back, angling her face back up towards yours before smashing your lips against hers.

"Let's....let's go inside...." You moan into her mouth, the kiss messy and sloppy as she nods eagerly before the request has even fully escaped your lips.

You waste no time crawling off her lap and tugging her inside, the two of you giggling and moaning as you stumble over your own feet in a dance of need and desperation, the both of you clearly in need of one another.

Ellie is tugging off her shirt as you two make your way through the door, helping you tug off your dress as she stumbles out of her jeans quickly after.

A pile of clothes leads the both of you to your bed, the girl laying you down and crawling over you, strong hands caressing your soft body, tugging at your bra and your panties, mouthing away at your newly exposed skin.

"You don't know how many times I've thought about this...thought about you like this" she admits, needy hands gripping at your waist, pulling you flush against her half naked body as she kisses up to your lips again, slowly pushing her tongue into your mouth as she groans against you, strong hands massaging your skin, kneading it between her fingers.

You moan into her, nodding eagerly as your hands tug her closer, wanting her as close to your body as possible.

"I have to..." you admit mindlessly.

You don't realize it then, but it's the first time that you've allowed yourself to admit that to someone, even to yourself. Those were secrets that you're buried down so deep into your mind, you weren't even sure they were true anymore.

Ellie was able to pull them out thought.

"Gonna...fuckin' worship you...like you deserve, baby.." she moans out, her lips pressing against your boobs that were spilling out of your bra, nipping and biting at your exposed skin.

But when she says that, it's like all the lights suddenly turned on.

It all comes weighing down on you in an instant, what happened, what you'd been through. Your wife had cheated on you with another woman, she promised you everything, the world at your feet if you asked for it, yet she still threw it all away as if none of it was real, as if none of it mattered.

Who's to say Ellie wouldn't do the same?

Your body goes limp beneath her, and Ellie catches onto it immediately, frowning gently as she pulls away to see her suspicions were confirmed.

"Baby? Hey...you with me angel?" She calls out as she watches you staring up at the ceiling, your eyes glossing over as if you weren't even there.

Because you weren't, you were back in your bedroom, in your apartment in the city, watching the woman you thought loved you back, fuck another woman into your mattress as if she were you.

You weren't ready for this.

"I...I can't do this.." You mumble out, voice cracking as your throat began swelling up from the tears pooling in your eyes.

Ellie is quick to sit up with you, tugging the blankets on your bed up so that you were able to shield your chest from the cold air that circled your room, her hand coming up to your back as she peered down at you, brushing your hair out of your face.

"Sweetheart, what is it? did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" she urges, desperately trying her best to understand what happened, what caused the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

You feel sick to your stomach, shaking your head as the tears begin spilling out onto your cheeks, keeping the blanket tugged close to your chest as you brush Ellies hands away from your face.

"I can't...you need to leave...please leave!" you sob out, shaking your head as all the images of your ex wife come flooding in.

Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you push her away, shutting her out and putting those same walls up that she could feel even when you were miles and miles away from her in the city.

She knows she can't get through to you, not now at least. So she simply gets up off your bed, tugs on her t shirt and jeans, goes downstairs and walks out of your house, her heart breaking as she hears your sobs echoing through the house, following her as she left you there.

And as you laid there, crying in your bed once again, ugly images run through your mind,

it isn't the thought of your ex wife cheating on you, that hurts, but its merely a dull blade to your side now that you've felt Ellie again, those feelings coming back the second her lips were on yours.

No...it's the thought of Ellie doing those things. It's the thought of her promising you the world and still throwing it away, even after she put a pretty ring on your finger.

Because love is ruined for you now, and you aren't entirely sure you could trust anyone to give it to you again.

Even Ellie.