#i WANT to heal and she won’t let with keeping me in this house

[beneathsilverstars]

I think maybe they’re acting odd enough in Dormont that when Isabeau leaves the favor tree and goes up to the cliff, he stays closer to the town side — looking at Mirabelle and the path to the favor tree — as he considers whether he should talk to anyone else about it, or ask Siffrin if they’re okay once they’re back from the favor tree, or something. And honestly he probably wouldn’t have ended up doing any of those things! But it means he is close enough to see when Siffrin is about to slip on the banana peel, whereas Siffrin didn’t even notice him there, because why would they look for any changes? Nothing ever changes unless they change it by force.

So Siffrin casually strolls towards the peel, and Isabeau shouts, "Woah, Sif, look out—!" and manages to catch him right as his legs go out from under him. Which, wow! That was scary! Good thing he was there, that could’ve been awful, what with the cliff right there and everything!

So now Siffrin can’t use the banana peel; Isabeau threw it away. And they can’t will themself to just jump off the cliff without it. So they resign themself to getting to the house the slow way, but, stars, they do not feel like sitting around Dormont right now. And it wasn’t even the first floor that they needed to go to anyway, so they’d be doing the whole entire night in Dormont, just to end the loop asap anyway! So. Eventually they give up and go for the dagger. But they’ve never used the dagger in Dormont before, and once they decide to use it they don’t waste a lot of time planning, so. They don’t do a good enough job making sure no one is nearby.

And it turns out Odile was right around the corner behind him, and she rounds it just in time to see him raise the knife. She casts slow on him and rushes forward and manages to yank his arm back before he can cut unsalvageably deep, then shouts for help. She sends the nearest villager to get Mirabelle, who hasn’t used any craft yet today, so she’s able to pour everything she has into healing him. Meanwhile Odile goes to get Isabeau and make sure Bonnie stays away until the situation isn’t so gory.

Eventually Mirabelle has Siffrin all healed and cleaned up and situated at the clocktower, and Bonnie is retrieved to start making dinner a little early. And now Odile and Isabeau and Mirabelle have allll evening to talk to Siffrin and try and figure out what’s wrong and how to help. Though Siffrin, of course, is being very unhelpful. They're desperately looking forward to their next chance to loop, and worried they won’t get one, and spiraling about upsetting everyone, but refusing to tell them about the time loops because it doesn’t matter, Siffrin doesn’t want to upset them more, they just! need! a way to loop!!

And of course he doesn’t say any of that out loud. But it’s not hard for the others to pick up that Siffrin wishes they hadn’t stopped him and is looking for a chance to escape, so of course they don't give him the chance. They ask if anything happened during/before his nap, and he insists no, nothing happened, he's fine. They suggest he doesn’t have to — and in fact, probably shouldn’t — go to the house tomorrow, but that really upsets him, because he wants to help them, he doesn’t want them to get hurt without him!! But they don’t want him to get hurt either.

But eventually they’re like, okay, even if we did give you your dagger back tomorrow so you can fight with us in the house, because we trust that you wouldn’t put us in danger, and we’ll keep a close eye on you — what next? We can’t just! Leave you! I mean we can't stop you from leaving but we want to help if you’ll let us!!!

And Mirabelle starts saying, "Maybe you could stay in the Dormont house with me, when it's back to normal? Until you're feeling better? I know everyone here, I could help you find a counselor if you'd be okay with that!" And Odile adds, "Or if you have somewhere to be I could accompany you; I didn’t have any particular plans on where to go next, so I might as well go the same direction as you." And of course Isabeau chimes in, "I really don’t need to get back to Jouvente any time soon — I quit my job, after all. I can stay with you as long as you need, as long as you want." And they ask Siffrin what their plans were, where they’re headed, and. Siffrin can’t come up with an answer that’s specific enough to be believable, not when they’re currently trying to plan specifics. Playing it off with a joke won't work, not this time. He tries to reassure them that they don’t need to change their plans for him, he’ll be fine, he knows they have their own things to do, and he’ll be fine on his own—

But Isabeau says, "You gotta understand why I don’t really believe that right now, Sif. You don’t have to let us stay with you if you don't want, but please don’t lie to us, you're obviously not fine. We want to help, if there’s anything we can do." And Mirabelle realizes she knows something relevant, so she says, "You told me... You told me a couple weeks ago that— this journey was the happiest you’ve ever been." And in the horrible quiet, Odile reaches the inevitable conclusion: "That journey will be over tomorrow, one way or another, and you don't have anything else to keep going for."

And Siffrin — they've been internally freaking out and spiraling this whole time, right? But it was never quite enough to automatically loop back, because— every mistake they made was immediately followed by clear assistance and compassion. Even when they first cut their throat, the moment that they realized they'd been caught was also the moment Odile touched them and then held them, reassured them with uncharacteristic desperation between shouts for help as she used her own coat to staunch the blood.

And now, no matter how horribly guilty and sick he feels that he's forcing his family to stay with him because they mistakenly think he's suicidal, this is them staying with him. It is a way forward.

So. The truth is out. They know that Siffrin was dreading the end of the quest because he had nowhere and nothing and no one to return to. They're wrong that he was about to kill himself over it, technically, except aren't they right about that too? No one knows it, but that was the reason for the loops, and he sure did kill himself far too easily in them.

The others talk about how they enjoyed the journey together, too, and... none of them wanted to part, either, they just hadn't brought it up yet. Odile says, "If I'd just said something sooner... I couldn't have known this would result, and yet... I should've known something was wrong. I'm so sorry I let you feel so alone and hopeless." Isabeau breaks the sorrowful quiet to say, determined, "We'll just have to make it up to you now. Bonnie will need to get back to their sister, right? What if we all accompany them to Bambouche?" And Mirabelle says, "Yes! That would be wonderful! And, you know, I was thinking of going on a pilgrimage soon — Siffrin, would you want to come with me, after we drop Bonnie off?" And of course Isabeau and Odile chime in that they'd love to go too. And, if they're all staying together, Bonnie might be really disappointed to stay behind in Bambouche, but maybe they could ask their sister if the two of them would like to travel for a bit as well...?

And Siffrin just starts sobbing. After a moment Mirabelle can't stand it, she has to at least offer, "Would you like a hug..? No pressure! But if you want one!" She holds her arms out a little in offer, and Siffrin can't stop themself from falling into them, and soon enough even Odile is patting Siffrin's back while Mirabelle and Isabeau hold them. After a bit, they hear Bonnie from outside the door, sullen: "I know you said they need space because they got hurt. But. You're all in there. And dinner is ready..?" And they tell Bonnie to come in, and Bonnie was mad at Siffrin for getting hurt again, but it turns into shock because, "What the crab, since when are we allowed to hug Frin??" And Isabeau says, "Since now, I guess?" And Bonnie hesitates for a moment, but relief that Siffrin is upright wins out, and even as they launch into a lecture they launch themself into the hug and nearly knock everyone over.

And then they're all laughing, and crying, and telling Bonnie about their travel plans. And then Bonnie brings in dinner, and Siffrin is ready to make himself eat it, but his poker face is gone right now and it's obvious he has no appetite for it — even aside from the fact that it's the same clocktower dinner that he's eaten dozens of times in a row, there's the whole recently-healed neck injury thing — and Bonnie's like, "Well, duh, if you're hurt or sick or whatever you need like, plain rice! And soup! And crackers! And lots of water!!" And they rush off to get a little of the extra rice and whip up a quick simple soup. And it's so nice to eat something new after months of the same stuff that Siffrin starts crying again, so of course they all have to hug him again. And eventually he falls asleep like that, surrounded by his family.

... And then they have to go through the house again the next day.

And, actually, at this point Siffrin is so scared of losing all of this. It's what he deserves, after guilting everyone into staying with him — after making Odile see such a horrible sight, making Mirabelle exhaust herself healing them, making Isabeau carry them back to the clocktower, making Bonnie cook them a whole separate meal — but still, he doesn't want to lose it. And he knows that doesn't actually matter, he'll loop again like he always does; if the perfect family loop didn't work, why would this failed loop change anything, this disaster where he didn't help anyone and instead they all helped him? But he wants to stay with them so bad. Can't he pretend, just a little longer, that there's any chance of escaping? Can't he force himself through the entire house again, just in case? Can't he act like this miraculous plan to travel together is possible? Can't he hope, one last time?

At the very least, they can linger. Siffrin can feel the dread building, they can't imagine how they're going to bear waking up in that meadow again, but they can put it off for as long as possible. They take their time to check every item. They try not to zone out, and sometimes they accidentally drift for a bit, but sometimes they listen and they do catch something new, bits of travel planning and bits of worry. They don't even use their strongest attacks unless the battle is looking dicey. They just make their way through the house as slowly as they can without raising suspicion.

Siffrin is terrified the entire time; he tries to hide it but he's so so tired, and he's so tired of hiding it, too. Everyone tries to reassure him, but it's to little success; and honestly, that's fair enough, with the King ahead! But then they beat the king and Siffrin is more scared, not less? And he's starting to feel sick and dizzy, too — the wish's conditions have been fulfilled. Its craft is dissipating, and without that energy the craft exhaustion is starting to hit.

But everyone is determined to help. They remind him that they've promised to keep traveling together, and it sets him off crying because he wants it so bad and he's so scared, so they all hug one more time before heading to Euphrasie. And Siffrin reminds himself, just one more time. He just has to hold onto hope this one, last time. Just in case.

They talk to Euphrasie, Siffrin shaking, one arm around Isabeau and other hand in Bonnie's, Odile right next to them, Mirabelle right ahead. When it's their turn, Siffrin takes a deep breath in and out and steps forward, and Euphrasie starts to talk and then—

Stops to ask if they're alright.

And she says something else to him, but he can barely hear it, because it's something different. It's something different. And then Isabeau is guiding him to sit down and reminding him to breathe, and Euphrasie is discussing something with Mirabelle, concerned, and it's all different.

It's different.

And it stays different for the rest of the day, and they wake up the next day to Bonnie shouting that they all need to pack so they can leave for Bambouche. Together.

:( au where siffrin tries to end a loop early but someone sees in time to stop/heal him. and they’re desperately trying to figure out why he did that and convince him life is worth living, and in that discussion someone suggests traveling together after the loops. and then ofc they’re keeping a very close eye on him after that, so, he doesn’t get another chance to reset. then they beat the king! so! conditions met! that’s the last loop! the one where they all saw siffrin try to kill themself! the one where the party surely only agreed to stay with them out of guilty obligation. but he’s selfish so of course he won’t do the right thing and refuse to go along with it. :( :( :(

[ikkan]

of course my mom is trying to guilt me into staying, by using her tears 😑

[theonottsbxtch]

PREACHER'S DAUGHTER PT 2 | MV1

an: GUYS IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS AU! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this au im so ready, it'll be tagged as #preacheraumax on my page if you want to find all the posts. i'm already writing pt 3, feel free to talk to me abt this au!!

wc: 6.3k

part one

The late-afternoon sun spilled golden light over the trailer park, painting the rusted edges of Max’s trailer with a soft glow. From the open window of his trailer, the smell of dinner drifted out—pasta, he thought, though he wasn’t sure. She’d insisted on cooking again, and he hadn’t had it in him to argue. He leaned against his car outside for a minute, absently wiping his hands with an oil-stained rag, trying—and failing—to ignore the way his T-shirt hung loose on her frame when she flitted through the tiny kitchen through the small window.

A week of this. A week of her brushing past him, all sweet smiles and quiet thank-yous, like she didn’t notice the way his pulse spiked every time she tucked her hair behind her ear or hummed while folding his clothes. He’d been respectful, giving her space, knowing she needed time to heal, but damn if she didn’t make it difficult.

The screen door creaked open, and there she was, standing on the step with a plate in her hands and a soft grin. “Dinner’s ready.”

He bit back a groan, tossed the rag onto the bike seat, and followed her inside.

They ate quietly, the scrape of forks on mismatched plates filling the small space. She’d been unusually quiet all day, and when she finally set her fork down, her eyes were a little too bright, her voice a little too soft.

“I talked to my aunt,” she said.

Max froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. He set it down carefully, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah?”

“She’s expecting me next week. She’s got a room for me, and she says I can stay as long as I need to.”

He nodded, keeping his face neutral, even though something sharp twisted in his chest. “That’s good. Safe place for you. Close to college.”

Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the table. “You’ll take me, won’t you?”

“Of course.” His voice came out rougher than he meant it to, and her eyes flicked up, searching his face.

The week passed too quickly. Every time he came home from work to see her curled up on his couch or folding laundry to some old song on the radio, he told himself not to get used to it. But it was impossible not to, and when the day came, he couldn’t shake the weight in his chest as they loaded the last of her bags into the back of his truck.

The drive to her aunt’s house was quiet. She played with the hem of her dress, and he kept his hands tight on the wheel, like if he gripped hard enough, he could keep her there.

When they pulled up to the modest house on the edge of town, she didn’t move right away. He cut the engine, the silence stretching thin between them.

“I’ll come back on weekends,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

“Promise?”

Her head turned, and for the first time all day, she smiled—a small, fragile thing that made his chest ache. “Promise.”

He stepped out, helping her with her bags, and when they reached the porch, he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her waist. She stiffened for a moment, then melted into him, her head resting against his chest.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy, you know,” he murmured into her hair.

She pulled back just enough to press a kiss to his cheek, her lips warm against his stubble. His heart stopped, then kicked back up at double speed.

“Don’t forget me, Max,” she said softly.

“Not a chance.”

The door opened behind her, and a woman—her aunt, he assumed—stepped out, eyeing him curiously.

“And who’s this?”

She glanced back at Max, her eyes lingering on him like she didn’t want to let go. Then she smiled, a little sadly.

“Just a good friend.”

The words stung, but he smiled anyway, stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Take care of her,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Her aunt nodded, ushering her inside. Max stayed on the porch for a moment, watching the door close behind her, the ache in his chest settling into something heavier.

When the weekend came along, Max was in the middle of patching up an old carburetor on a kitchen counter when he heard the knock at the door. He wiped his hands on his jeans and squinted at the clock on the wall. It was late—closer to eight than six—but the knock came again, firm and impatient.

Grumbling under his breath, he crossed the room, swung the door open, and froze.

She was standing there on his porch, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, her hair pulled back in that effortless way that always drove him crazy. She smiled up at him, all innocent charm and a hint of mischief, like she hadn’t just made his heart stop.

“Hey,” she said, stepping past him and into the trailer without waiting for an invitation.

“Hey?” he echoed, spinning to follow her. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to call.”

She dropped the bag onto his couch, her smile not faltering in the slightest. “It’s the weekend, isn’t it? I promised I’d come back.”

“Yeah, but—” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to sound stern. “You’re not supposed to just show up. I could’ve come and picked you up, you know.”

She waved him off, heading toward the kitchen. “I’m not helpless, Max. I caught a bus. Besides, I liked the idea of surprising you.”

Max sighed, leaning against the counter as she poked around his cabinets, clearly unimpressed. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Hmm.” She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For not fainting when I walked in here.” She gestured to the cluttered counters and the pile of laundry shoved into the corner. “Honestly, the state of this place would make half the church faint.”

Max smirked, crossing his arms. “Well, my cleaning fairy hasn’t been around this week.”

She turned back to him, arching an eyebrow. “Your cleaning fairy?”

“Yeah, little thing. Shows up unannounced, makes herself at home, organises my life for free.” He shrugged, his voice teasing. “She’s gotten kinda bossy, though.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t fight the grin spreading across her face. “Well, your cleaning fairy is back.”

“Don’t.” His voice softened, and she looked up at him in surprise. “Don’t clean, okay? You don’t have to do all that. You’re not here to look after me.”

“I like it.”

Her words were simple, but they hit him harder than they should have. She liked being here, liked taking care of him, even if he didn’t deserve it.

Before he could think of how to respond, she stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. Then, leaning up on her toes, she kissed his cheek, quick and light.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his throat tight. “Anytime.”

Her fingers lingered on his arm for a moment before she turned away, diving into the mess with a determination that made him smile despite himself.

He leaned against the wall, watching her, his heart feeling lighter for the first time in a week. She was impossible, infuriating, and everything he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“I was supposed to go out tonight,” he finally said.

She glanced back at him, her hands covered in soap. “Oh?”

“Yeah, Danny called earlier. Said he wanted to hit the bar. I told him I might swing by.” He paused, watching her reaction.

She didn’t seem fazed, just smiled. “You should go. It’s fine.”

He frowned. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

She rinsed a plate, setting it on the drying rack with a satisfying clink. “Max, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, you know.”

“That’s not the point.”

Her gaze softened as she turned to face him, drying her hands on a dish towel. “I know you want to stay. But you shouldn’t put your whole life on hold just because I’m here.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she stepped closer, her expression gentle but firm. “Go out. Have fun. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he debated pushing back. The idea of leaving her here, even for a few hours, felt wrong. But the quiet certainty in her voice eased something in his chest.

“Okay,” he relented. “But only if you promise to text me if you need anything.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her lips. “Yes, daddy.”

He shot her a mock glare as he grabbed his jacket and keys. At the door, he turned back to her, his hand lingering on the frame. “Don’t clean anything, all right? Just relax.”

“Sure,” she said, a little too quickly.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she waved him off with a laugh, and he finally stepped out into the night.

When Max got to the bar, it was loud and crowded, the kind of place Max usually thrived in, but tonight felt different. Danny was mid-sentence about something—or someone—when Max’s attention drifted again.

He found himself staring at his beer, her voice echoing in his head. I like it here.

“Max, you listening?” Danny nudged him with an elbow.

“Yeah, yeah,” Max muttered, though he wasn’t. His mind was back at the trailer, wondering if she’d actually taken a break or if he’d come home to find everything spotless.

“Man, you’ve been spaced out all night. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Max lied, draining the last of his beer. “I gotta head out.”

Danny raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Suit yourself.”

When Max got back to the trailer, the place didn’t feel like his.

The counters were wiped clean, the laundry folded and stacked neatly, and even the perpetually sticky spot on the floor by the fridge was gone. He sighed, shaking his head as he locked the door behind him.

“Stubborn,” he muttered, though a smile tugged at his lips.

His gaze landed on the couch, and there she was, curled up under one of his old blankets, her chest rising and falling in soft, even breaths.

“Of course,” he whispered, his voice soft as he crouched beside her.

Carefully, he slid his arms under her, lifting her with ease. She stirred, her head resting against his shoulder as he carried her to the bed.

“Max?” she murmured sleepily.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice low.

“I wanted to wait up,” she whispered, her words slurring slightly.

“I know.” He laid her down gently, pulling the blanket over her.

He moved to the dresser, rummaging for a clean shirt to sleep in when her voice, still soft but more awake, stopped him.

“You usually just sleep in boxers.”

He turned, eyebrows raised. “Noticed that, huh?”

She smiled, her eyes half-lidded. “I don’t mind if you do.”

For a second, he didn’t move, her words hanging between them like an unspoken promise. Then he chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

Her smile widened, but she was already drifting back to sleep.

Max sighed, tugging his shirt off and tossing it onto the chair. He slid under the blanket beside her, careful not to disturb her. As her breathing evened out again, he let himself relax, the weight of the night fading as he listened to the quiet.

She was here. And for now, that was enough.

The warmth was the first thing Max noticed as he stirred awake. His trailer was always cold in the mornings, the thin walls doing little to keep the night chill at bay, but now there was a soft, comforting heat pressed against his side. He cracked one eye open and immediately froze.

She was curled into him, her head resting on his chest, one arm draped across his torso like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her breath was slow and steady, her face relaxed in sleep, and her fingers clutched lightly at the fabric of his shirt.

Max’s heart thudded hard against his ribs, a deep ache settling in his chest. She fit so perfectly against him, like she’d always belonged there. He lay still, not wanting to wake her, though he couldn’t stop his hand from coming to rest lightly on her back.

The quiet moment stretched, his mind racing with thoughts he wasn’t ready to face, until the smell hit him. Warm, buttery, sweet—pancakes? His brow furrowed as he sniffed the air. Was he imagining things?

He shifted slightly, and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked up at him, her expression soft and drowsy, and he swallowed hard.

“Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice low. “You smell that?”

She smiled, untangling herself from him and sitting up with a yawn. “Yeah. Pancakes.”

He frowned, sitting up as well. “I didn’t even know I had stuff to make pancakes.”

She turned to him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “You didn’t. I snuck out earlier and grabbed a few things.”

He blinked. “You went shopping? Without waking me?”

“You looked peaceful,” she said with a shrug, climbing out of bed, not bothering to put the skirt she must have left with earlier back on. 

He was sure that his cause of death was going to be her walking around his trailer in one of his shirts and her stupid cotton panties.

He followed her to the kitchen, still trying to wrap his head around the idea of her slipping out and coming back unnoticed. Sure enough, there was a stack of golden pancakes on the counter, a jar of syrup beside it, and two mismatched plates waiting to be served.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though there was no heat in his words.

“Thank you,” she replied with a grin, flipping the last pancake onto the stack before turning to him.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked, gesturing to the pancakes.

“It’s Sunday,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

“Yeah, and?”

Her smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something—nervousness, maybe—crossing her face. “It’s church day.”

The realisation hit him like a freight train. Of course. It was her first Sunday since she’d left home. A pang of guilt tugged at him as he imagined what this day must mean to her.

“Right,” he said softly. “Big day.”

She nodded, fiddling with the edge of his shirt.

“Do you want me to come with you?” The words were out before he could stop them.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and he immediately regretted it. “I mean, I know I’m not exactly the church-going type, but—”

She cut him off with a laugh, her expression softening. “Max, you don’t even own a church-appropriate outfit.”

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing toward his wardrobe. She wasn’t wrong. His idea of formal wear was a clean pair of jeans and a button-up he hadn’t worn in years.

“You sure you don’t want me to tag along?” he asked, feeling strangely out of his depth.

She shook her head, her voice gentle. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine. You can wait outside for me this week if you want.”

“Deal,” he said, relief and a hint of disappointment mingling in his chest.

She smiled again, stepping closer and resting a hand on his arm. “Thank you for offering, though. It means a lot.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, clearing his throat and looking away. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you.”

She laughed, her fingers lingering on his arm for a moment before she turned back to the pancakes.

Max leaned against the counter, watching her as she plated their breakfast. She moved with a quiet confidence, her presence filling the small space in a way that felt both comforting and terrifying.

As they sat down to eat, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this Sunday—this moment—was going to stay with him long after she walked out the door.

Max didn’t know what he had with her, but he loved it. He loved every weekend she spent with him, loved the way her presence brightened his space. He loved the little things she did—the soft hum of her voice filling his trailer, the way she folded his shirts with the corners lined up perfectly, and the way she always looked at him like he was more than the guy with grease-stained hands and a rough past.

He didn’t deserve her, and he knew it. But damn if he wasn’t going to soak up every moment she gave him.

It was midweek when she surprised him. The steady rhythm of clanking tools and revving engines filled the garage as Max worked on a beat-up old Ford, grease smudged across his forearms. The day had been uneventful so far, the usual grind of repairs keeping his hands busy and his thoughts on autopilot.

Then she walked in.

He didn’t see her at first, his head buried under the hood, but the sound of her soft “Hi, Max,” was enough to make him straighten immediately, his heart giving an uncharacteristic jump.

She stood near the door, a paper bag in hand, wearing one of those sundresses that always made him weak. Her hair caught the sunlight streaming through the open garage door, and she looked so out of place among the grease and oil stains that it made him grin.

“Hey, angel,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag as he walked over to her. Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The scent of her shampoo—something floral and sweet—hit him, and he lingered for just a second longer than he should have.

“What’s this?” he asked, nodding toward the bag.

“Lunch,” she said simply, holding it out to him.

His brow furrowed as he took it, glancing inside. A neatly packed sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of water stared back at him. “I was fine for lunch,” he said, a little sheepishly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Her lips curved into a knowing smile, and she crossed her arms. “A hot dog and a beer is not healthy for you, Max.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “What, you been spying on me now?”

“I’ve been paying attention,” she countered, stepping closer and poking playfully at his stomach. “You keep eating like that, and you’ll lose your figure.”

“Oh, is that what this is about?” he teased, setting the bag on a nearby workbench. He leaned down slightly, lowering his voice to a flirtatious drawl. “You trying to cop a look at my abs, angel?”

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it just enough to reveal his toned stomach, a smirk playing on his lips.

Her face turned bright red, and she quickly looked away, stammering, “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, you started it,” he said with a laugh, dropping his shirt back into place. He couldn’t help but admire the way her blush crept down her neck. She was too easy to fluster, and he loved every second of it.

“I have to catch the bus back soon,” she said after a moment, still avoiding his gaze as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The mention of her leaving tugged at something in his chest, but he nodded. “All right. Thanks for the lunch, though. Really.”

Her smile returned, softer this time. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Always.”

After she left, Max stood by the workbench for a moment, staring at the lunch bag like it was some kind of relic.

“Who was that?” a gruff voice broke his reverie.

Max turned to see his boss, Tommy, leaning against the frame of the garage’s office door, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Just a friend,” Max said, though the words tasted wrong. She was more than that, even if he couldn’t quite put a label on it.

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, sure. A friend who packs you lunch and makes you look like a lovesick puppy every time she’s around.”

“Shut up,” Max muttered, grabbing a wrench and returning to the Ford.

Tommy laughed, taking a long drag from his cigarette before speaking again. “You’ve got balls, kid. Being with the preacher’s daughter? That’s a whole mess I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.”

Max stiffened, but he didn’t respond.

Tommy continued, his tone softening. “But I gotta say... I haven’t seen you this happy since the day you bought that trailer. She’s good for you.”

Max glanced over his shoulder, his grip tightening on the wrench. “Yeah. She is.”

Tommy nodded, stubbing out his cigarette. “Don’t screw it up, kid.”

Max didn’t answer, but as he went under the Ford, he couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at his lips. Whatever this thing was with her, he wasn’t letting it go.

No less than a few days later she was stepping out of her last lecture of the day, her bag slung over her shoulder and her friend Sarah chattering animatedly about some party happening over the weekend. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the campus, and the warm breeze carried the faint scent of freshly cut grass.

But then she saw it.

Parked just beyond the gates was a familiar motorbike, its polished chrome glinting in the sunlight. Leaning against it, arms crossed and looking every bit the troublemaker he was, stood Max.

Her breath hitched, a smile spreading across her face before she could stop it. He didn’t belong here—his grease-streaked jeans and leather jacket a stark contrast to the sea of students with their backpacks and books—but somehow, he looked perfect.

“Is that... your boyfriend?” Sarah asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

She hesitated for a split second, then shook her head. “Just a friend.” But her cheeks betrayed her, flushing pink as she adjusted her bag and headed toward him.

As she approached, Max straightened, his expression softening in a way he reserved only for her. “Milady,” he said with a playful smirk, holding out the spare helmet like a knight presenting a prize.

She laughed, her smile widening as she took the helmet from him. “You’re ridiculous,” she teased, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

He didn’t bother hiding the grin that spread across his face as she slid the helmet on. Swinging her leg over the back of the bike, she settled behind him, her arms wrapping securely around his waist.

“Hold on tight, angel,” he said, revving the engine.

The ride to her aunt’s was a familiar one now. She’d spent so many weekends at his trailer that the route was second nature, but it never lost its charm. The wind whipped past her, carrying away the stress of the day, and all she could think about was the solid warmth of Max in front of her and the way her heart felt light every time she was with him.

When they pulled up outside her aunt’s house, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the world in hues of orange and pink. She slid off the bike, pulling the helmet off and shaking out her hair.

“Drive home safe,” she said softly, her eyes lingering on him.

“For you, always, angel,” he replied, his voice low but steady.

Her lips curved into a small, grateful smile as she turned and headed up the walkway. She glanced back once, just in time to see him watching her, the faintest hint of a smile on his face before he started the engine and roared away into the fading light.

Max never would have referred to his trailer as a home. For years, it had been little more than a roof over his head—a place to sleep and keep his stuff, nothing more. It wasn’t like the house he’d known she’d grown up in, with its creaking floors and warm kitchen smells, or even the crummy apartment he’d shared with Danny in his early twenties.

But now...

Now there were little reminders of her everywhere. A book she’d left on the coffee table, its pages dog-eared in the way she knew drove him crazy. A neatly folded throw blanket she’d brought over one chilly night. The small vase on the windowsill, holding wildflowers she’d picked on a whim.

She hadn’t moved in—not really. But every item she left behind, every small touch of hers that lingered, made the space feel warmer. More alive.

More like home.

Max sat on the couch, his gaze drifting over the room. His place was still rough around the edges—there was no hiding the peeling wallpaper or the worn linoleum floors—but with her here, even in these small ways, it felt different.

He picked up the book she’d left, turning it over in his hands. The corners were bent, and a faint scent of her perfume clung to the pages. He shook his head with a smile, setting it back down.

Yeah, he thought, leaning back against the cushions. She made it feel like home.

<3 <3 <3

Max’s life continued with her like this for another eleven months. Each day, it felt like he was living in a dream he never wanted to wake up from. They fell into a rhythm—a routine that felt as comforting as it was impossible to believe.

She was no longer just the preacher’s daughter he had met outside a Church. She was part of his life, his home. More than half the time, she stayed at his place now, spending her nights curled up on his couch, reading or laughing at some ridiculous things he'd say, more often than not in the same oversized t-shirt she’d first worn when she moved in. Her presence filled every corner of his small, humble space, making it feel less like a place where he merely existed and more like somewhere he belonged.

He had never pushed her for anything—never tried to rush her into kissing him, never demanded more than what she was willing to give. There were moments where he could feel the pull between them, when their eyes lingered a little longer or their hands brushed in ways that made his heart race, but he was patient. She had her own pace, and for once, he didn’t want to ruin it by moving too fast. She had her own life to rebuild, and he was content to be a steady presence in it.

She still went to church every Sunday, keeping that part of her life separate, even though she never spoke to her father anymore. Church was the one thing she still clung to, the only part of her old life that hadn’t unravelled completely. Max didn’t understand it—he couldn’t—but he never asked her to give it up. If it brought her peace, if it helped her hold on to a piece of herself, then he respected it. He just wished she would let him share in it, but he wasn’t going to force it.

And then, the day finally came.

Max had been saving for months, every extra penny he made going toward the dream he’d never dared to voice out loud—the dream of getting them out of the cramped, creaky trailer and into something better. A place where she didn’t have to worry about the walls being thin or the smell of grease lingering in the air. Something more... theirs.

He had found it. A small but cosy apartment uptown, with high ceilings and a view of the city skyline. It was perfect for them—quiet, private, and just far enough from everything they both needed to escape from. He’d signed the lease that morning, a rush of pride and anticipation filling his chest as he pictured her reaction.

When she walked through the door that evening, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. His heart was racing, his palms sweaty as he met her at the door.

“I got us a place,” he said, his voice thick with excitement.

She blinked, clearly caught off guard by the suddenness of his words, but the moment she saw the joy in his eyes, the realisation hit her. She stepped forward, her face lighting up with the kind of smile that made everything else fade into the background.

“Max...” she whispered, and without thinking, without hesitating, she threw her arms around him, pulling him close.

Her lips found his in an instant.

It wasn’t a soft kiss, not one of those cautious first kisses that came with hesitations or uncertainty. It was full of the weight of everything that had built up between them—the months of waiting, the slow burn of tension that had been simmering beneath the surface. Their kiss was deep, heated, urgent, as if they both had been holding their breath and were finally allowed to exhale.

Max’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her body against his. He deepened the kiss, his lips claiming hers as if he had waited an eternity for this moment. He felt her fingers thread through his hair, tugging him closer, her body pressing into his with a desperation that matched his own.

It was the kind of kiss that shook him to the core, that made everything else in the world fade into the background—her soft breath against his lips, the quiet hum of the city outside, the rush of blood in his ears. All that mattered was her.

Her arms slid up around his neck, her body melting against his, and for the first time in a year, Max felt like he had finally found the place where he belonged.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, their breaths ragged, she looked at him with something that could only be described as wonder. Her eyes were wide, her lips swollen from their kiss, and there was a softness in her gaze that made his heart stutter in his chest.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” she breathed, her voice thick with emotion.

Max smiled, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. “Yeah, me too.”

There was a moment of silence, the kind that spoke volumes in the space between them. Her hands lingered on his chest, and he could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his. He had never known a kiss could feel so much like coming home.

He cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. “We... we really did it, huh?”

She nodded, her smile widening. “We did.”

Max had never been one for big, sweeping gestures. But with her, it was different. Everything about her made him want to be more than the guy who had nothing. He wanted to be the man who made her feel safe, cherished, loved. He wanted to give her everything—everything she deserved.

He kissed her again, slower this time, his lips brushing over hers as if savouring the sweetness of the moment. When they finally pulled apart, he smiled down at her, his hand gently cupping her face.

“I’m so damn lucky to have you,” he said softly.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t quite place, but it was the kind of look that made his heart stutter in his chest. “No, Max,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth. “I’m the lucky one.”

And for the first time, in a long time, Max allowed himself to believe it. He wasn’t just living with her. He wasn’t just sharing space with her.

He was building a life with her. A life that, even in its quiet moments, felt like everything.

And for the first time, he realised what home truly was.

The kiss lingered in the air between them, warm and slow, as if time had stretched to accommodate the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Max’s hands rested gently on her waist, feeling the soft press of her body against his, and the faint sound of their shared breath was the only noise in the room. They were tangled together—hearts racing, bodies melting into each other—as though nothing else mattered.

For the first time in a year, Max felt completely alive. Completely whole.

She pulled away slightly, breathless, her cheeks flushed and eyes wide, still processing the heat of the kiss, the weight of what it meant. Her lips parted, but before she could speak, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers one last time, a soft whisper against her skin.

“Marry me.”

The words were so quiet, so soft, that for a second, she thought she had imagined them. She blinked, drawing back slightly to look at him, her chest tightening with uncertainty. “What?”

Max smiled at her confusion, a hint of something deeper in his eyes. His hands gently cupped her face, his thumb running along her jawline as if trying to memorise every detail of her. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers as he whispered again, more seriously this time, “Marry me, angel.”

She froze for a heartbeat, thinking it was some sort of joke, some playful teasing. The idea of Max, the guy who’d never believed in love or commitment, asking her something like that was almost impossible to believe.

But the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability she had never seen from him before, made her heart skip a beat. There was no hint of jest, no trace of humour. He meant it.

Max saw the hesitation in her eyes and gently kissed her lips again, his voice rough and low as he pulled back just enough to speak.

“I never thought I’d make it past twenty-one,” he began, his gaze intense, almost haunted, as if these words were ones he had carried inside him for far too long. “I’ve been lost for so long. I didn’t think I’d ever have a reason to keep going, to fight for anything.”

She could hear the rawness in his voice, the weight of everything he had lived through—the loneliness, the struggles, the doubts. His eyes searched hers, looking for understanding, for a connection that only she could give.

“But you, angel...” His voice softened, but the words still hit her like a wave, sweeping away any doubts. “You’ve given me hope. You’ve given me a reason to live. A reason to fight for something better.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was peaceful, full of something unspoken, something they both felt but had never truly expressed until now.

She could feel her heart racing, her emotions swelling inside her chest, a warmth spreading through her like wildfire. Max—rough-around-the-edges Max, the guy who had been her rock for so long—was here, telling her that she had been the reason he had found the strength to keep going.

With her, he had found his reason.

“I...” Her voice faltered, thick with emotion, and she cupped his face in her hands, leaning in closer. “Yes, Max. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before he kissed her again, this time softer, more tender, as though sealing a promise. She melted into it, her fingers threading through his hair, holding on to him as if this moment was the only one that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, the weight of their promise hanging in the air, Max’s hands moved slowly down her body. He smiled as he reached for her purity ring, the symbol of the life she had left behind. With the gentleness of someone who understood the significance of the gesture, he took the ring off her finger.

“I’ve got something for you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Max took one of his necklaces, a simple silver chain that had always felt like a part of him, and threaded her ring onto it. He placed it around his neck, letting the cool metal of the ring rest against her skin. “This is you now,” he said quietly, his eyes not leaving hers. “And I’m the only one who gets to wear it.”

Her fingers gently touched the ring, feeling the warmth of her promise against him.

Then, Max reached down to his own hand, taking off a ring—one he never took off, the one that had been his symbol of defiance for years. He hadn’t given it to anyone else, and he certainly hadn’t planned on giving it to anyone. But now, with her, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

With a steady hand, he reached for the cross necklace she always wore, taking it between his fingers and slipping the ring onto it. The cool metal of his ring clicked against the chain, its weight heavier than it had ever felt before.

“This one’s for you,” he said softly, brushing her hair behind her ear as he tucked the cross back against her skin. “Because we’re in this together now. No going back.”

She stared at the ring hanging from her necklace, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions—love, disbelief, and gratitude. She had never imagined a life like this. But now, with him, she couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“I’m ready, Max,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m ready to start this new part of my life. With you.”

Max pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if she was the most precious thing in the world, and whispered against her hair, “I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”

And in that moment, with her purity ring around his neck and his own ring on her cross necklace, it was clear to both of them that this was only the beginning.

The beginning of forever.

taglist: @sinofwriting @le-le-lea @vanicogh @iamred-iamyellow @rayaskoalaland @spookyanamurdock @iimplicitt

[theemporium]

and to the poll voters who i thought i cheated you out of these two idiots, here they are!!

series masterlist

.

“You know I love you, right?”

Max lifted his head when you stopped right in front of him. He raised his brows, leaning back in his seat on the couch as he took you in. You looked serious, which was only slightly unsettling, as you stood with your hands on your hips.

“Yes?” He said eventually, though it came out more like a question.

“And I only want what’s best for you. You know that, right?”

He frowned a little. “Yes. Although stressing me out with whatever you are going to say next doesn’t feel like it’s best for me…” 

“Okay, good. As long as you remember those things in a few minutes when you’re cursing me out,” you said with a nod, ignoring the discombobulated look on your husband’s face before you let out a sharp whistle. 

Max’s frown deepened. “What’s—”

However, he was promptly cut off when the door swung open and all three Leclerc brothers made their way into the flat. Max barely had a chance to acknowledge them before they were grabbing him—two on his legs and one on his arms—and carrying him out the house. 

“What the fuck?! Let me down!” 

“I’m sorry, baby!” You called out as you followed the four of them out of the house. “But this fear of the dentist can’t keep getting in the way of your health!”

Max’s struggles seemed to quicken at the mention of the dentist. “Baby—”

“Max, you know it’s for the best.”

And it was. He knew that. He knew that the second he was outside of the dental practice, there was little else he could do. But he would put on a great damn struggle until then, on the off chance he could escape and top up on the painkillers he had been having over the last week to numb the pain in his mouth.

…

“Do you think he will be mad at me?”

“He could never be mad at you,” Lorenzo assured you as he tugged you into his side. “You were doing what’s best for him. He knows that.”

“What if I broke his trust doing this and he never forgives me?” You continued, letting out a shaky breath. “He was just in so much pain and I couldn’t just sit there—”

“The man worships the ground you walk on,” Arthur pointed out. “He couldn’t even give you the silent treatment for longer than five minutes the last time he tried.”

But his words didn’t ease the tightness in your chest. “But what if—”

“He’s not going to break up with you over this,” Charles spoke up, a sincere understanding glimmering in his eyes that your other two brothers lacked. “He loves you far too much for that.” 

You nodded, opening your mouth to say something else but a voice interrupted. 

“Mrs Verstappen?”

You barely glanced back at your brothers as you followed the nurse through the dental practice. You nodded as you listened intently, taking in everything she said about how to best treat Max at home with painkillers and the healing process in general. 

You were about to ask a few more questions when you heard a familiar voice that made your stomach flip.

“WHERE’S MY WIFE? I WANT MY WIFE! BABY? WHERE ARE YOU?” 

Your cheeks burned as you shot the nurse an apologetic look before quickly rushing into the room, making your way towards Max as you tried to quieten him down. However, the second he noticed you, his face instantly lit up and he had little care in the world for anything else.

“Where have you been?” The words were muffled and slightly slurred, but the slight lisp made your smile widen. 

“Waiting for you,” you assured him as you took his hand, raising it to your lips to place a quick kiss on the back of his hand.

He stared at you blankly. “That’s not my lips.”

You snorted. “Your mouth is a bit too busy right now for me to kiss.”

Max frowned before he turned to the dentist. “Take these out right now! My wife won’t kiss me!”

Your eyes widened. “Max!” 

“No, I want kisses from my wife!” Max said, shaking his head before he tried to reach out and pull the gauze out himself.

“Looks like you’re gonna have a handful with him,” a nurse teased as she watched you grab both of his hands before he could rip his stitches open in his mouth.

You smiled. “Yeah but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Because she loves me!” Max added. 

“I do.”

“Soooooo much!”

“That is also true.”

“She loves me so much that she even lets me—”

“Okay, that’s enough talking, babe!”

.

[lure-of-writing]

Price to Pay

You were his long before she came into the picture. Being the child of parents that were deemed as traitors not many people sought you out in hopes of a friendship, neither did Xaden but nonetheless he took on responsibility of all the marked children in hopes of keeping them alive. It was a freezing wet cold January morning when you met him, purely by accident at that. You were never intended to meet him , at least until you got to the riders quadrant. “There is always a price to be paid my sweet girl, whether or not you know it.” Your mothers voice rang true in your head. In all your life it seems that she was never wrong, not even in death. 

“You are the only person who was being…” The deliberate pause of the man standing before you didn’t go unnoticed, with a slight cough he clears his throat. “Being trained as a healer of some sorts. And seeing as he won’t let anyone else help him you surely understand why I asked for you to be the one who came, right?” The agitated tone of his voice did nothing to soothe the anxiety hurling throughout your body. “I mean after all, I can’t let the boy die.” Ah, there it was. The real reason you were brought here. Never would they allow the leader of the rebellion's son to die before they got a chance to play their death games with him. Pretending to play gods. Something tells you Malek wouldn’t be too happy with their doings. With a heavy sign you give in “Where is he?” After all your mother was just as involved with the revolution as his father was, which means you are not only responsible for the others, mostly out of guilt that your mothers actions caused them to lose their own families, but you also know that your mother would want you to look after the boy like she looked after his father. Shame and guilt have an interesting way of making people do things that they wouldn’t normally do. Such as willing to walk into what could be considered a death wish of a house. 

Xaden was exactly where they said he would be. The room was basically empty besides the bare necessities and random things he must of deemed worth collecting along the way. Hues of tan, white and gold engulf the room in what you could only imagine to be an attempt at not only showing a wealth of money but also a failed attempt at being inviting. If anything it only made the raised, wilted and barely healed wounds lining his back to be even more glaringly obvious, if that were even possible. While observing the marred flesh you noted that you didn’t see his back rise and fall. That was a bad sign, a very bad sign. Quiet but hurried steps made their way over to where he laid in bed. His head was facing you but his eyes were closed. Naturally you stuck your finger under his nose to see if he was even breathing.  “Is it normal for you to stick your fingers under the nose of people you don’t know?” The sudden noise has you pulling back and quickly placing a hand over your heart. “My god, why would you scare me like that? I thought you were dead, you dumbass.” you grumble “In what world would I just be sticking my hands in the faces of strangers?” You swear you heard an attempt at laughter out of him but it could also be a groan of pain. Your second guess was probably much more likely. “What hurts the most?” you stop assessing his back for a moment when you see him peek open his eye “Everything?” His tone drips in disbelief, not that you blame him. It was kind of a stupid question. Sighing you pull over his chair from his desk and take a seat. Another sigh tumbles out while rubbing your face and all you can think is that you definitely have your work cut out for you in more ways than one. 

The path of your relationship had for the most part always been a rocky one. Xaden never wanted to accept not only your help but the role you played keeping the other marked children alive. While he might be the son of the leader that doesn’t make you invisible. Day in a day out you would teach those around you the knowledge you possessed of plants and herbs and remedies in hopes that they would never need to use them. Teaching, training, building children into young adults who understood what they were going to be up against was something you took pride in, even if Xaden frowned upon it. 

He would never say it out loud but he thinks you are not capable of teaching them what they need to know, how to survive in a war college that's meant to kill you. In his eyes you are too soft, too kind, too willing to help, to survive Basgiath War College. And if you couldn’t survive then how would the children that you are supposedly teaching?

Unfortunately for him you are your mothers daughter. Not only were you almost as lethal as him in the challenges, you were quick and smart and strong. Stronger than he ever thought you were capable of. And after many fights about letting you help, letting you correct as much wrong as you humanly could, Xaden finally caved. That is where the tab for your price to pay begins collecting. 

Something about him was like a drug. Constantly pulling you in for more but causing a world of pain when you lack access. You never planned on your relationship becoming more than a begrudging and slightly reluctant friendship. But just like with any drug you think you're good at controlling the amount you need in what doses, but then over time you need more and more until it's all consuming and you can’t function without it. Won’t function without it. You always thought you were better than others at controlling your feelings and never allowing yourself to get too close to someone but everything about Xaden goes against what you know. 

Life had been as blissful in a war college that attempts to murder you at every chance they can get, can be. After fighting the obvious mutual attraction for longer then you would like to admit. You and Xaden found a routine in being a couple in a psychopaths dream scenario. In the three years that you had been there alot had changed. Somewhere obvious, some well…some where definitely not. Like Xaden falling out of love with you. He would never admit it. Violet's sudden arrival to the riders quadrant was unexpected to say the least. Xadens request for her to be put into his wing was even less expected. Obviously you weren’t dumb you knew the saying “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer” but looking back your unyielding love kept you from seeing the truth and in turn maybe you were in fact dumb after all. 

At first her presence didn’t worry you at all. Did it slightly irritate you? Sure but you were confident that she would be nothing more than a slight annoyance. Oh how wrong you were. Slowly you felt Xaden pull away from you. It wasn’t anything unusual being a wingleader that he was pulled away at different times for varying amounts of time, as were you. This was nothing outside of your usual. A red flag was suddenly raised when Bodhi and Garrick couldn’t seem to look you in the eyes, constantly covering for where Xaden was at and what he was doing. Or rather who he was doing. As dumb as you were you knew without a doubt that their loyalties lie with your boyfriend but you had also hoped that as your friends they wouldn’t turn a blind eye to his affair. You soon learned hope is a useless thing. Hope gives you the ability to pray for change, to see other possibilities, to turn a blind eye at what is happening in front of your very own eyes. Hope is what kept you in the dark, and later would later kill whatever remained of your heart. 

Years down the line you would learn from Bodhi what exactly happened between Xaden and Violet but it would never help repair what had been broken. You would live in the dark of where things went wrong, what signs did you miss because you were too young and in love to pay attention to your surroundings. It was after threshing when you noticed how he looked at her. How he cradled her cheeks in comfort, just like he did with you. When news of Xaden’s dragon being bonded with Violets finally reached you, all you could do was groan in frustration at how much more complicated your life was about to become. “Is it true?” Xaden didn’t need to know what you were talking about, he already knew. With a slight tilt of his head he beacons you into his room before closing the door. Last thing he needed was somebody eavesdropping on a conversation that didn’t involve them. “Yeah.” he drops into the desk chair while you place yourself on the edge of the bed. “What are we going to do?” Slowly he looks at you with a resigned look. “There’s really not much anyone can do about it.” Scrunching your face you look at him in disbelief “But you know what happens with mated dragons as well as I do. They can barely go like a few hours being separated. What are we going to do? Bring her along like we’re her parents or something?” you watch as he crosses his arms over his chest with a raised eyebrow. “Would you like to talk to Tairn and Sagely about this?” 

“Don’t  be fucking stupid Xay you know they don’t give a shit about how I feel about this situation. But you have to admit this is absolutely ridiculous, this isn’t going to work, we graduate soon and will be sent off to gods knows where and she will still be here.”  you gesture to the four walls of his bedroom “Are you really willing to get yourself killed by coming back to this place every other week?” With a shrug he groans before placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “It's either here or out in the field.” While you have grown to accept his air of nonchalance, its about to drive you up a fucking all. “For fucks sake Xaden why are you not concerned about this? About how it will affect us and everything we are working so hard for.” You're met with a cold hard glare “Don’t you dare question my commitment to what I am trying so hard to protect, to those I am willing to help and willing to die for.” You couldn’t hold back the laugh of disbelief that falls out of your mouth “Are you willing to die for her?”

“Goddamnit (y/n) why can’t you see that this is out of my control? This is normal for me to accept what has happened and figure out how to deal with it. So if you’re done questioning my alliances then I think you should leave.” Never has Xaden talked to you like that and you would be damned if you let it happen now. “Who do you think you’re talking to Xaden? Because I know for sure it isn’t me, so I suggest you fix that attitude of yours and try that again.” There is a long beat of silence while you refuse to break eye contact with your boyfriend. He sighs again before lightly motioning for you to come to him with his hand. Blankly you stare at him, there isn’t any way you are going to go to him after the way he spoke to you, not even Malek himself could drag you over there.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry. You know it didn’t mean it. I’m just stressed. I now have to figure out how to keep Violet alive because you know if she dies I die, and if you haven’t noticed she's kinda making it more difficult than it needs to be. I mean you have seen her for yourself, she's behind in basically everything.” You don’t even bat an eye at his so-called apology. That was lackluster at best. “(y/n) baby I’m sorry. My stress isn’t a reason to take it out on you just because you are concerned about me. You know that your opinion matters to me more than anything and just hearing your worries adds a whole other layer of stress to this clusterfuck of a mess. I know you’re concerned and you have every reason to be, if this was the other way around I have no idea what I would do. But I promise you I am going to do everything in my power to not let this affect us and what we have going on outside of here. We’re going to figure it out, just like we always do right?” His question hangs in the air like hope. “Right.” you reluctantly agree before giving into his beckoning and plop yourself into his lap. “There isn’t anything in this world I wouldn’t do for you, you know that right?” his eyes pierce into yours and you swear you saw something else dance in those eyes of his and it wasn’t love “I know.” 

Your life was never the same after that moment. The memory is frozen in time, forever memorializing your heart break. It was the night the war games started. You hadn’t seen Xaden all day having been preoccupied with your own wing to have time and check in on him and his wing. After looking for him everywhere the only place left to look for him was his room. You know for a fact that he hasn’t taken off with Sgaely so that only left one place for him to be. Xaden had warded his door so that no one would be allowed in but in the moment of lust with Violet he had forgotten all about the fact that he had also worded it to allow you into his room at any time. Finally you had reached the end of the hall where his room sat diagonally from yours and pushed the door open.

Violet. Xaden. Violet. Xaden. Your eyes didn’t know where to focus. On him? Or on Her? You didn’t hear as violet shrieked in shock or as Xaden uttered your name. For a moment no one moved. No one even dared to breathe, for all hell was about to break loose. “You lied.” it tumbles out of your lips like a ghost. Xaden barely caught the end of what you said. “You lied! YOU FUCKING LIED!” Your heartbroken cry breaks him out his trace pulling Violet off of him and reaching for his pants. He watches as blue bolts of energy strike randomly around the room sending various objects flying. “Xaden we kinda have a situation a-” Garrick and Bodhi appear behind you. Obviously they were looking for him also. Except they were hoping that they found him before you did. 

“So this is what you’ve been doing? You’ve been fucking some first year behind my back? I thought I meant the world to you huh? That there was no one else in this world who was more important to you than me? You remember that, don't you Xaden?’ Never in his life had he seen so much anger consume someone that he could see it dancing in their eyes but he could see it in yours. The way you went from screaming to clam sent a shiver down his spine, and he was not one to scare. Another bolt of energy went flying and this time it landed right next to Violet who was wrapped in his blanket trying to cover her naked body. Without thinking his shadows built a wall between her and your bolts of energy. You watch as the wall of shadows is formed and dissipates before your very eyes. He was protecting her. Protecting her from you.

A loud scoff of disbelief strikes a nerve in his body sending him into action. “(y/n) look at me, baby. This was an accident, a mistake. You know I only love you.” He could see the particles of energy bumping into each other gaining strength and as he goes to step forward closer to you it strikes, keeping him in his place. “I thought you only loved me?” Violet cries out in heartbreak. Shaking your head you laugh “You are such a fucking liar, but I have to admit you had me fooled Xaden.” Slowly you start to clap while staring the man who once held your heart in his hands keeping it safe from everyone and everything but now it lays shattered on the ground into a million pieces. “You truly had me there for a second, I fell for your tricks. I had a feeling that I was never good enough for you, that you were waiting for someone else who was better to come along and I guess you found better huh? Tell me Xaden just exactly how long you’ve been fucking her behind my back?’ He takes a long deep breath while looking at the ceiling before answering “Since threshing.”

Deep down Xaden knew the second he saw Violet that he was doomed but he had hoped for both yours and his sake that it was just a thought, he knew that one would compare to you, no one would be able to love and understand him on the level you do. And yet here he is doing the one thing he promised to never do. “Fuck you Xaden Riorson.” The look in your eyes is cold, dead even. The only thing keeping them warm is the hatred he knows you keep for him shimmering beneath the surface. And with that you turn swiftly on your heels and shoulder checked both Garrick and Bodhi who were too stunned to move, “Fucking energy wielders” Garrick mumbles 

You now knew just what the price of loving Xaden was. What dues were to be paid. It was your soul, your heart and everything left you had to believe good in the world does exist. Loving Xaden Riorson was your price to pay. The heart of the girl who used to be is no longer there, all that's left is the gaping hole that Xaden caused when he ripped your heart out that night with his own bare hands.

[lex-the-flex]

Old Wounds

Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Wanting to help Logan discover the hindrance in his healing, the process unlocks something more.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning(s): Established friendship -> relationship, MEGA flirting, HIGH sexual tension?, fluff, slight angst, descriptions of injuries, brief cursing (like one word), and first kiss + makeout session.

A/N: I see that D&W is trending again with all the bts content. Time to do the Lord's work. Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

Exhaling at the majestic scenery North of Nagasaki, your breath was taken away at every single little thing. From the beautifully crafted culture, nature, and even how the roads were different. Everything felt calm and collected on this peaceful side of the world, it felt right. 

The warm afternoon sun beams down on the gorgeous city as you and Logan make a quick pit stop to a convenience store on the outskirts of town. Parking the bike just outside, you take off the helmet, and hop off the backseat. 

“Want me to come with you?” Logan asks. 

“I’ll only be a minute, Lo. There’s no need.” You reply. 

Swinging your bag over your shoulder, Logan can help but clench his jaw. Silently grumbling to himself, you can’t help but notice this specific mannerism. 

“Is everything okay?” You calmly ask. 

“Yeah. I just don’t want us to be late for Mariko. We can’t make too many stops.” Logan advises, glancing over his shoulder. 

Stepping off the curb, you place the helmet behind Logan. Cautiously placing your hand on top of Logan’s, you gently rub his knuckles, trying to soothe his spirit. Responding to your touch, you watch Logan’s shoulders relax for a brief moment. Cupping the side of his face, you bring his face to meet yours, allowing his hazel eyes to meet your e/c gaze. 

“We won’t. Just be glad that she has a place for us to stay. We’ll get to the bottom of this, okay? I’m here for you, Logan. I’m not leaving you.” You firmly address. 

Leaning into your soft touch, a quick sigh escapes Logan’s lips. Turning back to the store, you unconsciously drag your hand along Logan’s chest. Placing his hand over his heart, Logan watches you purchase a couple bottles of water before returning outside. Boarding the bike once more, Logan turns back to you as you strap the helmet back on. 

“You ready to go?” He asks. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” You reply. 

****

Finishing the road trip, the two of you finally reach the outskirts of Nagasaki, where Mariko was waiting for you. Turning along the thin road, Logan abruptly stops the bike, causing you to grip his chest just a little tighter. The feeling of your delicate hands over his jacket helped seal the rhythmic pounding of his heart that continues to ring in his ears. Before you can accuse Logan for nearly crashing, the sight of a large fallen tree fills your line of sight beneath the shaded helmet. 

Dismounting the bike, Logan turns the engine off, and follows closely behind you. Quietly surveying for any signs of damage, Mariko spots you on the other side of the trunk and rushes to your side. 

“Mariko!” You call out.

“Y/N! You’re here!” She replies, outstretching her arms. 

Pulling you in for a much needed embrace, you can’t help but fight the impending wave of tears rising behind your eyes. It was as if you could finally let go here and shed your emotions. 

“We’re so glad you’re safe, Mariko. I’ve been so worried after the funeral.” You say. 

“Well, you and Logan won’t have to worry anymore. I can trust that the two of you can help keep me safe here, as well as looking after yourselves. The fight at the house took a toll on Logan. Something’s happened to him and I’m not sure what.” Mariko explains, taking your hands in hers and whispers quietly in your ear. 

“I know, but he’s not exactly the type to open up. But hopefully he’ll come around to me.” You reply, turning back to find Logan. 

Walking up to the two of you, Logan sways his head back to the direction of the tree and crosses his arms. 

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks. 

“Of course. But let’s go back to the house first. I’ll give you some time to unpack.” Mariko advises, leading you and Logan to the guest house where you’ll be staying. 

Crossing the threshold to the guest house, a tiny gasp escapes your lips in complete awe of the traditional Japanese home. The quaint one-story building comforts your soul within seconds, letting you fully breathe again. Walking into the shared bedroom, you place your bags on the floor by the open wooden closet, and quickly change your clothes. 

Joining you in the doorway, Logan leans next to the sliding door. The scents of sandalwood and faint cherry blossoms follow him through the house, putting your mind at ease. 

“You doin’ okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just glad Marino is safe. The funeral was …too much.” You murmur, rubbing your arms together. 

“Hey, it’s alright. All of that’s behind us now. Don’t let the past control your, …our present, Y/N. I don't want to lose you, especially now. I’ve always cherished you and your company. I want to be someone you can count on, someone who’ll always have your back. I want to be there when you need me, whether you can’t sleep or if you’re lonely.” Logan declares, walking toward you. 

Taking your hands, Logan gently rubs your knuckles, hoping to calm your nerves. Silently nodding, you raise your head to look at him. His light hazel eyes instantly settle the butterflies in your stomach. Inching closer, Logan carefully cups your face and strokes your cheek. Leaning his forehead against yours, Logan’s lips hover a few inches above yours, but before he gives in, the echoing sound of an elderly woman calling out interrupts the moment. 

Feeling a wave of embarrassment take over you, your hands let go of Logan’s and you rush out of the room. Rushing outside for the fresh air, the salty sea air fills your lungs and the blanket of heat leaves your body. 

Shortly joining Mariko in the shade, the remnants of your rushing heartbeat echo through your ears whilst you realize the full gravity of what just happened. Your feelings for Logan are real. They’re more real than you could’ve imagined and he felt the same for you. 

“Y/N, are you alright? You’re blushing.” She notices, offering you some tea. 

“Hmm, oh yes. I’m alright, thank you.” You reply. 

Gulping down the tea, something out of the corner of your eye catches your attention, causing the world to slow down even more so than it did before. It was Logan. He slowly starts taking on the task at hand before fully concentrating on the job after an elderly neighbor hands him an axe. 

Watching Logan work hard to clear the tree, you and Mariko pass out tea and fruit to the other neighbors who decide to help clear the free limbs and other branches. Retreating to the shade to refill your cup of tea, the slight tugging motion of your sweater being pulled brings you back from your daydreaming state. The sight of a little girl causes you to widely smile as she offers a few flowers from the nearby trees. 

“She wants you to have them.” Mariko explains, briskly translating for you. 

“I’d be delighted!” You exclaim. 

Sitting down on the concrete bridge, the little girl places the cherry blossom above your ear. Seeing the petals in your peripheral vision, the naturally occurring pink and white swirls beam against your hair. Offering you some more flowers, a few more children occupy their friend and swarm you with more petals and freshly picked cherries. 

Turning away from his project for a moment, the loving sounds of your laughter echoes through Logan’s ears. Observing the sight before him, he can’t help but smirk at seeing you laugh. You were finally relaxed after so much stress that was brought upon the two of you. You had never been anyone’s bodyguard before, but as far as Mariko was concerned, you were doing an excellent job. 

Making eye contact with Logan, a soft smile fills his pink lips, knowing that you fully deserve this moment. Smiling in his direction, Mariko was delighted to see that you and Logan were fully in love with one another. She just hoped that the two of you would act on it before it’s too late. 

*****

From the corner of your eye, you briefly caught a sight of Logan nearly collapsing against the short seawall. Cautiously approaching him, he breathes deeply as if he’s struggling to catch his breath. 

“Logan?” You call out.

“Are you alright?” Mariko asks. 

Glancing up at the two of you, Logan nods, hoping to ease the tension. 

“Just tired, that’s all.” He replies. 

Wiping his brow, he remains covered in a thick layer of sweat, and you fully see his wounds for the first time. A lump suddenly rises in your throat but is cut off by a strike of roaring thunder, revealing a dark storm in the distance.

“We should go. The storm is coming, let’s go so we can start dinner.” Mariko advises. 

Hurrying back to the house, Logan takes your hand in the pouring rain, leading you back to the guest house. Joining Mariko for dinner after a warm shower, she teaches you how to elegantly tie the traditional set of robes she let you borrow and the three of you eat in a comfortable silence. Helping her clean up after the meal, you and Logan promptly return to your shared side of the house, bidding Mariko goodnight. 

Emerging from the bathroom, you stop in your tracks as soon as you spot Logan sitting on the futon on the floor. Anxiously watching him try to raise his arms, you pace over to him, and help him take off his white tank top. 

“Dammit…” He utters to himself.

Locking eyes with him, Logan can’t help but get lost in your presence. His hazel eyes scan over your nighttime clothes underneath your open robe. 

“Thank you.” He mutters. 

Reaching for his robe, he groans in pain, but you’re right there. Sitting on your knees before him, you pull the piece of clothing over his bare shoulders, when you fully make contact with his fresh wounds. Hesitantly tracing your fingers over the slowly healing injuries. 

“Who did this to you? Why can’t you heal?” You ask through rising tears. 

“I don't know. I have no idea why this is happening.” Logan answers. 

Lowering your face to the floor, you clench your hands together until your knuckles turn white. You can’t wrap your mind around why someone would want to take Logan’s healing from him, the powers that make him live forever, starting to fade. It scares you to the core as you fight a sob threatening to escape your lips. 

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere, darling. I don’t intend to. I know Mariko’s grandfather said I was destined to live forever with no reason at all. But I know things can change with time.” Logan whispers. 

Giving Logan your full attention, he brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Do you have a reason at all?” You ask.

Clasping his hand around your jaw, Logan passionately kisses you, giving in to his growing hunger to have you. Deepening the kiss, you wrap your arms around Logan’s shoulders, and he pulls you closer. Letting you lay on his strong chest, the black robe falls off Logan’s back whilst he leans on his sore elbows. 

Running your fingers through his short hair, a growl emanates from his chest, knowing that you both belong to each other. Placing his hands on your hips, your limbs become entangled as Logan grips your hips and turns you on your back. Momentarily breaking the kiss, Logan peppers kisses your face before landing on your neck. Gripping his shoulders, a soft and precious moan escapes your lips. 

Leaning his forehead against yours, a small laugh escapes from Logan’s mouth and the two of are able to sleep peacefully for the first time in a long time. 

wolverine taglist ~

@moonlightseranade

@chronicallybubbly

@dontfeedthebigbadwolf

@the-resident-vampire

@ovaryacted

@misssarcasm15

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

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@quillycrow

@till-hes-90

@the-moth-archives

@stilllivindue2spite

@wolviesgal

@mostly-marvel-musings

@acupnoodle

@mcrdvcks

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 18

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: you finally finish your assignment and talk about the upcoming holiday break.

word count: 3.1k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: believe me when i say i was not planning for this chapter to go the way it did. but it’s fine it was hot<3 i also kept the holiday reader celebrates ambiguous to keep it inclusive, so hopefully i can keep it going being nonspecific lol, enjoy<3

warnings: smut, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ only!

While Evan put up a fight at first about accepting your help, he quickly got over it. You kept trying to reassure him that you want to help, that you want him to heal as well as possible, even if you have to do things for him. He didn’t listen at first; he didn’t want to be a burden; he didn’t want you to be annoyed with him or feel like you had to help him. But still, you continued to care for him with a smile on your face, and soon enough, he started to love how much you were doting on him. It made him feel important, loved.

It’s almost exhausting when he’s finally used to you doing things for him, and you’d be a little upset if he wasn’t so cute with his little pouty lips and puppy dog eyes. 

“Princess, can you get me some more water?”

“Princess, can you get me a sweater?”

“Princes, can you…?”

You’re almost certain he’s exaggerating his injuries by now, as his concussion is gone and his ankle has been healing for a couple of weeks, but how can you say no when he asks you to stay with him for a little bit longer? You love being with him, and you love taking care of him, so it makes sense to spend most nights at his place rather than going back to your apartment.

You’re at his house again, both of you sitting on his bed as you work on the final touches of your assignment. You’re happy to finally be done with it, although you have this weird feeling in your chest that once your assignment is handed in, you won’t have any reason to see Evan. You know your worries are unnecessary; you’re dating, and he seems very content in keeping you around all the time, but you feel that minuscule voice in your head telling you what you know isn’t true. 

You look out his bedroom window, smiling as you see the soft blanket of snow covering his front yard, the sunset shining brightly off of it and making you excited for the quickly approaching winter break. It’s already December, and you can’t believe how quickly the semester has passed. A couple weeks off and finally able to spend some time with your family? You couldn’t imagine anything better. Especially for the holidays.

“What are you doing for winter break?” you ask as Evan types away on his computer. He looks up at you after a moment, his fingers stilling on his keyboard. His expression almost looks upset, but he quickly covers it with a small smile.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll probably stay here; hang out with some of the guys on the team that aren’t going home either.” he tells you, his voice oddly monotone. You know he’s not especially close to his parents, but you didn’t know it was bad enough for him to not go home during winter break. He’s definitely holding his emotions back right now, and it makes your heart clench to think about him alone during the holidays, with no loving family to go home to.

“Your parents don’t want you to go home?” you ask, but you already know the answer. He shrugs, giving you a soft “I don’t think they care” as he looks down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. Sadness fills your eyes, and you let out a quiet exhale. How can his parents not want to see him?

“What about your sister? I’m sure she wants to see you.” you try to reassure him, but you can see that your words cause sadness to fill his eyes as he shakes his head. You reach over and grab one of his hands, which pulls his gaze from his lap to your face. 

“You can’t be alone for the holidays.” you whisper. You can feel the question on the tip of your tongue, and while you know it may be a little weird to ask, it feels like the words are fighting their way up your throat.

“I’ll be alright, princess. It’s not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” he tells you with a shrug, trying to mask his sadness with a reassuring smile. You tilt your head to the side as you look at him, frowning. You feel the words slip from your mouth before you can stop him; why is he the one reassuring you right now? You should be the one telling him that he shouldn’t have to be used to that. That he deserves to feel loved all the time, but especially around the holidays.

“Why don’t you come home with me for the break?” His eyes widen at your words, and for a moment, so do yours. You know it’s probably too early for that kind of thing; he’d be meeting your entire family, for God’s sake, but you can’t imagine him sitting here alone while everyone else is with their families.

“You want me at your parents’ house for the holidays?” he asks in disbelief, although he can feel his heart pounding at the thought. He absolutely loves the idea of meeting your parents, and spending a few weeks in your hometown; learning even more about you.

“I’m sure they’d love to meet you. I know my mom does.” you tell him a bit sheepishly. You’ve told your mom about him already, although you’re not as close to her as you once were, you still talk to her fairly regularly.

“Your dad doesn’t?” he asks you curiously, using the hand holding yours to pull you towards him. You get up onto your knees and crawl across the bed, then straddle his lap and wrap your arms around his neck loosely.

“I haven’t told him. Not sure how he’d react.” you say with a shrug, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. He hums softly, and although he’s a little nervous about your answer, he also feels an overwhelming urge to prove to your father that he’s good for you.

“Yeah? Tell me about him, so I know what to expect.” You lean back, looking at him with an unsure smile, disbelief in your eyes. 

“You’ll come?” you ask, your smile widening when he nods. You laugh softly and lean in to give him a chaste kiss, but he quickly deepens it, his hand moving to your jaw and tilting your head slightly. You smile into the kiss, and let him continue to kiss you for a moment, one of your hands making its way into his hair while his other hand moves up and down your thigh.

“So, tell me about your parents.” he speaks after he pulls away, looking up at you with a gleam in his eye. He loves the way you look sitting on his lap, lips puffy and eyes in a slight daze. He thinks it’s adorable that even after the countless times he’s kissed you, you still always pull back with wide eyes and a soft smile, almost like you’re surprised he’s kissing you.

“Well, my mom will love you, so you don’t have to worry about her much. I think she’ll just be happy I’ve finally brought someone home. My dad’s sort of protective, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s a firefighter, and he’s an extrovert, so all you have to do is ask him about his job, and the heat will be off of you for hours.” you explain to him, laughing softly as you explain your dad’s tendency to talk about his job. He’s always wanted to be a firefighter, and he loves the job, so it’s become a joke between you and your mom about how quickly he can change the subject to work during conversations with anyone that will listen. 

Evan hums softly, nodding as he listens to you. He laughs along with you, feeling his nerves settle slightly as you tell him how to get on your dad’s good side. He can’t believe he’s agreed to this so quickly; a few months ago, he would never have pictured himself being introduced to a girl’s parents. But now, with you, he feels both excited and like his heart is about to stop from his nerves.

“You think he’ll like me?” he asks a bit nervously. You smile, shrugging as you think about it. You’ve never introduced a guy to your father, so you’re really not sure how he’ll react. While you want to reassure Evan, you don’t want to give him a false sense of hope. 

“I like you. I think he’ll see that. He might just have to warm up to you.” you tell him after a moment of silence. He nods again at your words, licking his lips as he averts his gaze from yours, beginning to think about it maybe a little too much. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. He’ll probably just want to make sure you’re a good guy. It’s not like he’ll find out you’re, like, a murderer or something.” you tease in a low voice, giving him a cheeky smile. You want to calm his nerves; you can see the wheels turning in his head. He chuckles as his eyes refocus on you, and he pulls you in by the back of your neck, lips level with your ear.

“Maybe not, but I definitely wouldn’t want him to find out what I’ve done with you, how I think of you most of the time.” he rasps, and you feel your cheeks grow hot. 

“Yeah? What are you thinking about right now?” you get out, your voice just above a whisper. Although your words are teasing, your stomach is filled with butterflies. Even after months of being with him, there’s always a split second that you forget you’re not still the shy, inexperienced person you were before.

“I’m thinking about taking you in your childhood bedroom. Your parents in the other room. Having to put my hand over your mouth to keep your quiet.” he says, nipping at your neck between sentences. You bite your lip, feeling a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re crazy if you think my dad’s gonna let us share a room.” you tease softly, tilting your head back as he continues to kiss your neck. He chuckles against your skin, which causes you to shiver as his hot breath hits your neck.

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” he whispers in your ear, then continues his trail of kisses down your neck. You roll your eyes, giggling softly, but it’s cut short when you feel Evan’s hand dip below the waistband of both your leggings and your panties, and move straight to your core.

“You’re so wet already. You like that idea? Having to keep quiet for me?” he says in a cocky tone, looking up at you. You bite your lip as your hips buck against his hand instinctively, trying to gain more friction as his fingers ghost against your clit.

He chuckles as he feels your hips move, but doesn’t tease any further. He pushes a finger into your dripping cunt, pumps it into you a few times, then adds another. You mewl softly, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, which he happily returns. His thumb finds your clit after a moment, and he groans as he feels you clench around his fingers with a soft moan.

“You’re so good for me, princess. Always so good for me.” he says against your lips, then curls his fingers to hit that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You tilt your head back with a whine, rolling your hips as you feel the familiar feeling growing in your belly.

He increases his movements when he sees your face contorting in pleasure, knowing you’re approaching your high, but you stop him before you can get there. You pull his hand away with quick, albeit reluctant, movements.

“Need to feel you.” you whisper in an almost pleading tone, and that’s all it takes.

He grabs your hips and flips you over onto the bed, then moves to kneel in front of you. He reaches for your leggings and makes quick work of pulling them and your panties down your legs, you lifting your hips off the bed to help him out. He makes you sit up once your bottoms are discarded, and pulls your knit sweater over your head, not even bothering to take your bra off before his hands are pulling on his shirt. Once he’s taken his clothes off, he’s on top of you, using one arm to hold himself up, and the other pumping his cock a few times before moving the tip over your slick folds.

“Please.” you beg as you look up at his face, pupils blown and lips turned in an almost-pout. He licks his lips as his eyes move up from your cunt to your eyes, smirking. He doesn’t waste any more time, and he sinks into you with a breathy groan. His head falls to the crook of your neck as he buries himself to the hilt, feeling you stretching around him so perfectly. 

“Oh my god.” you whine as your hands find his shoulders. Your nails dig into his skin as he starts to move, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size. He fits so nicely inside of you, but you’d be lying if you said there’s not a second when he first pushes into your dripping cunt where you think that you’re too full, that you won’t get used to the feeling of all of him.

“That’s it, princess. Let me hear you.” he drawls. He picks up the pace as he begins to kiss down your neck, making sure he leaves light spots around your collar bones and tits. He loves marking you, but the last time he marked your neck, you got mad that you weren’t able to cover it up easily, so now he leaves them in places for his eyes only. 

You let out a shuttered cry when his fingers find your clit again, and your nails dig into his back more harshly, which makes him groan in a mix of pain and pleasure. He loves to be marked by you too, loves having reminders of you on his skin. He leans back to look into your eyes again, and he almost smirks when he sees you struggling to keep your eyes open, your body moving with each thrust. He looks down at your soft tummy and chest and he moans again. He loves seeing your tummy move as he fucks you; almost as much as he likes to fill your belly with his seed.

“Keep making noises like that and I won’t last long, baby.” he teases, then meets your lips in a deep kiss. His hips move in rough thrusts as his fingers circle your clit, and you know that you’re not going to last long either.

“Feels so good.” you rasp against his lips, and he smirks as he pulls back.

“Yeah? You like that, princess?” he asks in a cocky tone, feeling his high quickly approaching as he looks down at your fucked out expression. All you can do is nod as you feel the pit in your tummy growing, your words coming out in incoherent babbling.

With a few more thrusts, Evan is right on the edge, but as he’s about to pull out, you wrap your legs around his waist. He raises a brow as you look up at him, soft pleas escaping your lips.

“Come inside me. Evan, please.” you get out, keeping your legs firmly locked around him. He groans, trying not to cum right then and there. The way you say his name makes his head spin, and soon enough, he’s nodding, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor.

“You want me to fill you up? Huh, princess?” he asks, leaning in to whisper in your ear. His thrusts are getting sloppy, and you know he’s almost there.

“Please. Fill me up.” you plead, your back arching off the bed as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.” he grunts in your ear, and after a few more thrusts, you feel his hot cum hitting your insides. This, paired with his fingers ghosting over your clit causes you to fall over to the edge with a high pitched squeal, clenching around him as your vision goes blank. You squeeze your eyes shut as your body goes stiff, your hands still firmly on his shoulders.

“There you go, princess. God, you’re gorgeous.” he whispers against your skin. He slows his hips to a stop, staying inside of you for a minute or two as you both catch your breath. He moves his head down to the valley of your breasts, pressing soft kisses all over the skin not covered by your bra as he stays lying on top of you, and you hum happily.

After a few minutes, he finally pulls out, groaning at the sight of his cum dripping down your soft skin and onto his sheets. He grabs a towel from his closet and cleans you off carefully, pressing kisses on your plush belly as his hands moves, and once he’s done, he crawls back into bed beside you and pulls you in to lay your head on his chest.

“We can’t do this at my parents’ house.” you tease as you lay your cheek against his chest, and you smile when you feel the rumble of his laugh ripple through his chest under you.

“No? Don’t think you can keep quiet?” he replies in a similar tone, squeezing your shoulder as he holds you tightly against him. 

“I’m more worried about you.” you tell him in a serious tone. He can hear the smile in your voice, but he still rolls his eyes as he scoffs.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” he says in a quiet tone, voice trailing off as he looks up at the ceiling. 

If you’re really serious about not doing anything for two weeks, he thinks he’ll go crazy. He’s been able to have you pretty much anytime he wants for the past few months, and imagining you at your house, forbidden fruit dangling in front of him with your father around, he knows it’s going to be torture for him.

next chapter

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[sinful-sonnet]

Whiskey & Wildflowers

Chapter 3

Prev | Next

“Fractured Comforts”

Dbf!Joel miller x f!reader

W/C: 7.7k

Summary: Grieving the loss of your mother, you find unexpected comfort in your father’s best friend, Joel. As you struggle with loneliness and depression, Joel steps in to help you regain stability. Despite the tension of forbidden feelings growing between you, Joel becomes your steady source of support, offering warmth and safety when you feel most lost. The story unfolds as you navigate grief, healing, and the complexities of your connection with him.

Content warnings: grief and loss, mentions of ed, power dynamics, self neglect, depression and isolation, emotional vulnerability, co feelings of attachment, unprotected piv, m orgasm, f orgasm, lmk if I missed anything

—-

Life without your mom felt surreal. The house was quieter, heavier, like the absence of her presence was weighing everything down. Your dad had taken it the hardest. He’d always been the strong one, the one who held everything together, but now he was crumbling in ways you’d never seen before.

You’d stepped up, doing everything you could to keep things running—making meals, cleaning, and trying to keep your dad from completely shutting down. It was exhausting, but you pushed through, telling yourself it’s what your mom would’ve wanted.

Joel and Sarah started coming by more often to help out. Sarah would sit with your dad, trying to distract him with little conversations or even just her presence. Joel, on the other hand, took to fixing things around the house—stuff that didn’t even need fixing, really.

“You’ve done enough,” Joel said one evening when you tried to stop him from working on a squeaky cabinet hinge. “Why don’t you take a break, darlin’? You’ve been runnin’ yourself ragged.”

You shook your head, setting down a pile of laundry. “I can’t, Joel. If I stop, everything’s gonna fall apart.”

Joel gave you a look—soft, but firm. “It won’t. You’re not alone in this, you know. Let us help.”

You sighed but nodded, sinking into a chair. Joel was right, though it didn’t make it any easier to let go of the reins.

Later, Joel sat with your dad, who was nursing a half-empty glass of whiskey at the kitchen table. He hadn’t said much since Joel arrived, and it was starting to worry him.

“I’ve known you a long time,” Joel said, his voice low and steady. “I ain’t ever seen you like this, man. You gotta talk to me.”

Your dad looked up, his eyes tired and red. “What’s there to say, Joel? She’s gone. She was my whole world, and now I don’t even know how to… how to be without her.”

Joel leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You got your kid to think about. You ain’t gotta do it alone, but you can’t shut down on her. She needs you.”

Your dad ran a hand through his hair, nodding slowly. “I know. It’s just… hard.”

Joel stayed quiet for a moment, then said, “We’ll get through this. All of us. One step at a time.”

From the living room, you watched the two of them, grateful for Joel’s steady presence. Despite everything, you felt a little less alone knowing he was there—not just for your dad, but for you, too.

—

“I think I need to get away from here for a bit,” your dad said one evening, his voice low and uncertain. He sat across from you at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee he hadn’t touched.

You froze, the words hanging in the air like a weight. “What do you mean, Dad?” you asked softly, trying to keep the worry out of your voice.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s just… everything in this house reminds me of her. Every corner, every damn thing I see. I can’t—” He stopped, taking a shaky breath. “I can’t breathe here. I need to clear my head.”

You didn’t know what to say. The thought of him leaving felt strange, like the house would be even emptier without him. It wasn’t like he was doing much to keep things lively, but at least he was here.

“How long would you be gone?” you asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “A week, maybe two. I just need some space to figure out what the hell I’m doing.”

You nodded slowly, though a knot tightened in your chest. “I get it,” you said, even though you weren’t sure if you did. “Just… don’t stay away too long, okay?”

He reached across the table, placing his hand over yours. “I won’t. And I’m not leaving you alone. Joel and Sarah will check in. I’ll call every day, I promise.”

It didn’t make the idea of his absence any easier, but you forced a small smile. “Okay.”

Later that evening, when Joel came by, you told him about your dad’s decision. His brow furrowed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “He said that, huh?” Joel muttered.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice quiet. “I get why, but… it feels weird. The house is gonna feel even emptier.”

Joel looked at you, his eyes soft with understanding. “I’ll be around,” he said simply. “You won’t have to do this alone.”

You nodded, the reassurance helping a little. But as the days passed and your dad packed up to leave, you couldn’t shake the unease that settled deep in your chest. The house would be quieter than ever, and even with Joel and Sarah stopping by, it wouldn’t feel the same without him.

You reminded yourself that you weren’t a teenager anymore—you were 25. You could live on your own, and technically, you had been managing everything in the house since your mom’s passing. Still, the thought of your dad leaving made you uneasy.

It wasn’t about not being capable—you’d proven you could cook, clean, pay bills, and handle the day-to-day chaos of life. But the house had always been a shared space, a place where you felt anchored by family. Without your dad there, it felt like something essential was being taken away, leaving you adrift in a sea of silence.

“You’re grown, kid,” your dad had said when you expressed your hesitation. “I know you’ll be fine. Hell, you’ve been keeping things together better than me these past weeks.”

It wasn’t exactly comforting, but it was true. You nodded, trying to reassure him—and yourself. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be fine.”

And you would be. You’d done it before—college apartments, short stints away from home—but this felt different. This wasn’t about independence or learning to stand on your own. This was about filling the void left behind by the people who were supposed to be there with you.

As the day of his departure came closer, Joel stopped by more frequently, making sure you were set up with everything you might need. “You got enough groceries?” he asked one afternoon, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, Joel. I’m good,” you replied with a small smile. “I’m not helpless, you know.”

He smirked but didn’t argue. “I know that. Just… makin’ sure.”

Deep down, you knew Joel was trying to fill in the gaps, to make sure you didn’t feel completely alone once your dad left. It wasn’t lost on you, and for that, you were grateful. But it didn’t change the lingering emptiness you felt when the house fell silent at night, the weight of memories pressing in around you.

You’d be fine—you kept telling yourself that. You were 25, after all. You could handle it. But that didn’t mean it didn’t feel impossibly hard.

———

A few weeks had passed since your dad left, and you’d fallen into a pattern of isolating yourself. The house felt cold and empty, like a hollow shell of what it used to be, and you found it easier to just stay in your room.

You stopped answering the door when Joel and Sarah came by. Even when they unlocked the door with the spare key your dad had left, you’d lock yourself in your room, pretending to be asleep or too tired to come out. The truth was, it was all just… too much.

Deep down, you couldn’t shake the nagging fear that your dad might never come back. He hadn’t said much the last time you talked—just short, clipped answers that left you feeling more worried than reassured. The thought of losing him, too, was unbearable, so you retreated further into yourself, hoping that maybe shutting everything out would make it hurt less.

It didn’t.

Sarah had tried coaxing you out, knocking softly on your door and calling your name. “We’re worried about you,” she said one day, her voice filled with concern. “Please, just talk to us.”

You didn’t respond, your body curled up under the blankets as you stared at the wall.

Joel wasn’t as patient. He stood outside your door the next time he came by, his voice firmer. “Darlin’, I know you can hear me. I’m not gonna push, but you can’t keep doin’ this to yourself. Open the door. Please.”

But you didn’t.

Joel hated the idea of leaving you alone like this. Sarah could see it in the way his jaw tightened whenever you shut them out. He wasn’t the type to sit back and let things happen, but this was different. You weren’t just shutting the world out—you were shutting him out, and it was killing him.

“She’s not okay, Sarah,” he muttered one evening after they’d left the house again, unsuccessful in getting through to you.

“I know,” Sarah replied, her voice small. “But what can we do? She’s gotta let us in.”

Joel shook his head, running a hand down his face. “I just… I hate seein’ her like this. I just wanna—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard. He couldn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t say out loud what he really wanted: to hold you, to make everything better, to take away your pain.

But you weren’t letting anyone in, and it left Joel feeling helpless in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

You hadn’t been eating properly or drinking enough water, and it was catching up to you. Your body felt weak, like it was falling apart bit by bit. Your head throbbed constantly, your limbs were heavy, and even getting out of bed felt impossible most days. You didn’t know exactly when you’d let things get this bad, or why you hadn’t tried harder to stop it. Maybe it was just the depression, weighing you down like a lead blanket.

You stared at the wall, the hours bleeding together. You couldn’t even remember the last real meal you’d had, let alone the last time you’d actually felt like yourself. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you should care—about yourself, about everything—but the energy just wasn’t there.

Joel barely crossed your mind. Even though he and Sarah had been coming around, you hadn’t let yourself think about him too much. It was easier that way. The ache in your chest from everything that had happened—the loss, the loneliness, the guilt—it was already too much. Thinking about Joel would just add another layer to the mess.

You rubbed your hands over your face, trying to snap yourself out of it, but the haze of exhaustion and hunger wouldn’t let go. Deep down, you knew you couldn’t keep going like this. Something had to give. You just weren’t sure if you had the strength to do anything about it.

Joel couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time he came by and found your door locked, every time Sarah came back with another failed attempt to reach you, it ate away at him. He’d thought about breaking down your door more than once, just to make sure you were okay, but he stopped himself every time. He didn’t want to push you further away.

The guilt weighed heavy on him. He couldn’t shake the memory of that day—the look in your eyes when he pulled away, the way your voice broke as you thanked him before leaving. He wondered if rejecting you had been a mistake. Maybe if he’d let you in, been there for you in the way you wanted, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad.

But he also knew that line of thinking wasn’t fair—not to you, and not to himself. It wasn’t just about that moment. You were grieving, trying to hold it all together while your world fell apart, and Joel knew there was only so much anyone could do to pull you out of it.

Still, the thought lingered. What if? What if he’d said something different, done something different? Would you be eating properly? Would you be taking care of yourself? Would you have let him help you before it got this bad?

Joel rubbed his hands over his face, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He couldn’t keep sitting on the sidelines, watching you waste away. He needed to figure out how to reach you, but he didn’t know how to do it without making things worse.

All he knew was that the thought of losing you, of not being there when you needed him most, was something he couldn’t bear.

•

Sarah had started a new job recently, which kept her busy most of the time. She rarely came by to check on you with Joel anymore, leaving him to shoulder the worry on his own.

Joel noticed the difference immediately. Without Sarah’s presence to balance things out, the silence in your house seemed even heavier when he visited. He still used the spare key to let himself in, hoping each time that maybe this visit would be the one where you finally opened your door.

But you never did.

Joel tried not to let it show, but the absence of Sarah’s help made things harder. She’d always been the optimist, the one to reassure him that you just needed time and space. Now, without her around, the weight of his concern felt even greater.

He caught himself lingering in the living room some days, hoping to hear any sign of you stirring upstairs. When he didn’t, his frustration and helplessness grew. He hated the thought of you being up there, alone, letting yourself waste away.

“Damn it, kid,” he muttered to himself one afternoon, pacing the living room. He ran a hand through his hair, debating once again whether to break down your door. But just like every other time, he held back, telling himself that forcing his way in might only make things worse.

Still, with Sarah gone most of the time, Joel felt more alone in this than ever. And no matter how much he tried to shake the guilt, it kept clawing at him, whispering that maybe—just maybe—he could have stopped this spiral if he’d done something differently.

—

Joel sat on the couch, staring at the muted TV, his thoughts far from whatever was playing on the screen. The house was quiet as always, the silence pressing in on him. He was about to leave, convinced it was another fruitless visit, when he heard the sound of running water upstairs.

His heart skipped.

For a moment, he thought he was imagining it. He stood slowly, listening carefully. When he heard the faint sound of the faucet, his chest tightened. You were up. You were moving.

Joel hesitated, unsure whether to call out or stay where he was. He didn’t want to scare you back into your room. He sank back down onto the couch, trying to calm the sudden wave of relief that rushed through him.

Upstairs, you hadn’t even realized Joel was there. You’d decided, finally, that you couldn’t take the grime and heaviness anymore. A bath sounded like just what you needed to feel somewhat human again. Thinking you were alone, you left the bathroom door open, letting the warm steam drift into the hall.

You sank into the tub, the hot water enveloping you, and for the first time in weeks, your body started to feel a little less like it was falling apart. You leaned back, eyes closed, letting out a long sigh.

Joel didn’t know what to do. He could hear the faint sound of water splashing upstairs, and he felt conflicted. Part of him wanted to go up, to check on you, to make sure you were really okay. But the other part of him knew how fragile this moment was. If you knew he was there, would you shut down again?

So, he stayed put, his leg bouncing with nervous energy as he listened to the faint sounds of life coming from upstairs. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And for now, that was enough.

After your bath, you wrapped yourself in an oversized hoodie, your legs bare beneath it. You didn’t think much about it as you padded downstairs, your hair still damp and sticking to your neck. For the first time in weeks, you felt hungry enough to try making yourself something to eat.

As you descended the stairs, Joel caught sight of you, and his breath hitched. He hadn’t seen you this close in weeks, and the sight of you knocked the air from his lungs. You looked so much thinner than he remembered, your cheeks hollowed and your frame smaller beneath the loose hoodie.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel whispered, his voice heavy with worry as he stood and started toward you.

You froze on the bottom step, gripping the railing tightly as his words hung in the air. The raw emotion in his tone—the mix of concern and sadness—hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to do.

Joel slowed his approach, raising his hands slightly as if to show he wasn’t going to push. “I didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said softly. “I just… I wasn’t expectin’ to see you.”

You looked away, your eyes darting toward the kitchen. “I was just gonna make something to eat,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse from lack of use.

Joel’s heart twisted at how small and fragile you seemed. He wanted to say a million things—to ask if you were okay, to tell you how worried he’d been, to apologize for not doing more sooner—but he held back, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“Let me help,” he said gently, nodding toward the kitchen. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around the railing. Part of you wanted to tell him no, to insist you could manage on your own. But another part—the part that felt so worn down and tired—wanted to let him in, just this once.

“Okay,” you whispered, barely audible.

Joel gave you a small, reassuring smile and gestured toward the kitchen. “C’mon. Let’s get you somethin’ to eat.”

As you followed him into the kitchen, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth in your chest. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

As you shuffled into the kitchen, Joel’s gaze unintentionally drifted down, and he realized you were only wearing an oversized hoodie. His eyes lingered on your bare legs for a moment too long, the sight catching him off guard.

His cheeks warmed as a faint pink crept over them, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. “Uh, you want eggs? I can whip some up real quick,” he said, his voice a little strained as he busied himself at the stove.

You nodded, not noticing his brief lapse, and moved to sit at the table. “Yeah… eggs sound good.”

Joel cracked a few eggs into the pan, his movements a little more deliberate than usual as he tried to distract himself. Get a grip, Joel, he scolded himself. She needed help, not… whatever the hell that was.

The sizzle of the eggs filled the room as he worked, sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye. You looked so small, sitting there with your hands in your lap, your damp hair sticking to the side of your face. The sight tugged at something deep in his chest, pulling him back to his primary focus—making sure you were okay.

He placed a plate of eggs in front of you a few minutes later, leaning slightly over the table. “Eat up,” he said gently, his voice softening. “You need it.”

You murmured a quiet “thanks” before picking up your fork, and Joel took a seat across from you, keeping his eyes firmly on your face this time. For now, he told himself, it was enough just to be there for you.

As you picked at the eggs Joel had made, you glanced up at him briefly, noticing how tired he looked. His brows were furrowed, and his jaw was tense, though he was trying to mask it. You realized, maybe for the first time, that all of this—your isolation, your grief—might have been weighing on him too.

The thought sent a pang of guilt through you. You hadn’t considered how your downward spiral could be affecting anyone else, let alone Joel. He’d been coming around, checking on you, probably worrying nonstop, and you’d barely acknowledged it.

Your grip tightened on your fork as shame bubbled up inside you. “I’m sorry,” you said suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s head snapped up, his expression softening as he met your eyes. “What for?”

You shrugged, looking down at your plate. “For… shutting you out. For making you worry. I didn’t mean to…” Your words trailed off, and you swallowed hard, unsure how to finish the sentence.

Joel leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Hey,” he said gently, his voice steady and reassuring. “You don’t need to apologize for that. You’ve been through a lot, more than anyone should have to deal with.”

You nodded slightly but didn’t look up, the guilt still gnawing at you.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I ain’t gonna lie—it’s been hard seein’ you like this. But I’m not mad, and I don’t want you feelin’ bad for leanin’ on me, alright? That’s what I’m here for.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you felt your throat tighten. You nodded again, this time meeting his eyes briefly before looking away.

“Thanks, Joel,” you murmured, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a small, fragile spark of hope that things could get better.

As you glanced up at Joel again, your eyes lingered on him a little longer this time. The feelings you’d been trying to bury for weeks came rushing back, hitting you all at once. Despite the exhaustion etched into his face, the slight dark circles under his eyes, and the way his shoulders seemed heavier than usual, he still looked devastatingly handsome.

His hair was slightly tousled, strands of gray catching the kitchen light just right. The lines on his face only made him look more rugged, more… Joel. And the way he looked at you—with that steady, unshakable concern—made your heart ache in ways you didn’t know how to handle.

You quickly looked down at your plate again, your cheeks warming. You felt ridiculous, sitting there in your oversized hoodie, barely holding yourself together, and yet your mind was consumed with how much you wanted him.

Joel noticed the shift in your demeanor, the way you fidgeted slightly with your fork. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low and laced with concern.

You nodded quickly, not trusting yourself to speak. If he kept looking at you like that—with those warm, tired eyes—you were sure you’d say something you couldn’t take back.

Joel leaned back slightly, still watching you. “You sure?” he pressed gently.

You forced a small smile, nodding again. “Yeah… just tired,” you managed to say, though your voice betrayed the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

Joel seemed to accept it, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he looked away, his brow furrowing slightly. You couldn’t tell if he was buying your excuse or if he just didn’t want to push you too hard.

Either way, you were relieved—and maybe a little disappointed.

Your foot brushed against his under the table, tentative at first, but then you left it there, resting lightly against his. Joel froze for a moment, his fork stopping halfway to his mouth. He glanced at you with a confused look, his brows furrowing slightly as he tried to read your expression.

You met his gaze innocently, a small, almost playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“What are you doin’, darlin’?” Joel asked, his voice low, carrying both curiosity and caution.

You shrugged slightly, your smile widening just enough to let him know it wasn’t an accident. “Nothing,” you said softly, tilting your head as you watched him.

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, but in that way he did when he was trying to figure something out. His jaw tightened, and he leaned back in his chair, his foot staying planted firmly on the floor now.

“You shouldn’t… do that,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet but firm, though there was a hint of something unsteady underneath.

“Do what?” you asked, your tone light, almost teasing.

Joel gave you a look that was a mix of exasperation and something else—something deeper, something he was trying desperately to suppress. “You know what,” he muttered, glancing away briefly, like he couldn’t hold your gaze for too long.

You could see the faint pink rising in his cheeks, and it made your heart race. You didn’t push further, but you left your foot resting where it was, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction at how easily you could fluster him.

Joel cleared his throat and picked up his fork again, though his movements were stiffer now. He didn’t look at you as he focused on finishing the meal, but you could tell by the tension in his shoulders that you were on his mind.

-

You leaned back in the chair, resting a hand on your stomach as you let out a content sigh. “That was great. Thank you,” you said, your voice warm and genuine.

Joel finally looked up at you, his expression softening as a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Glad you liked it, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You needed it.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. It wasn’t just about the food—it was about the fact that he cared enough to make sure you ate, to be here when you hadn’t let anyone else in.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know,” you said softly, your gaze lingering on him.

Joel shrugged, leaning back in his own chair. “Somebody had to. Can’t have you wasting away on my watch.”

His tone was light, but there was something serious behind his eyes, something that made your chest tighten. You didn’t know how to respond, so you just nodded again, letting the moment hang in the air between you.

Joel stood up after a moment, collecting your plate along with his. “You want anything else? Somethin’ sweet, maybe?” he asked, glancing back at you.

You shook your head. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

He nodded and carried the dishes to the sink, his movements deliberate and steady. You watched him for a moment, feeling that familiar warmth creep into your chest again. Joel always seemed to know how to anchor you, even when you felt like you were drifting.

And then you thought maybe you did want something sweet

“Not unless you’re on the menu”

Joel froze mid-step, your words hitting him like a ton of bricks. His back was to you, but you could see the way his shoulders tensed, his grip tightening slightly on the plates he was holding.

He set them down in the sink carefully, taking a moment before turning around to face you. His eyes met yours, a mixture of surprise and something darker simmering beneath the surface.

“Darlin’,” he said slowly, his voice lower now, almost a warning. “You don’t wanna be sayin’ things like that.”

You tilted your head slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on your lips. “Why not?” you asked, your tone teasing but your heart pounding.

Joel took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Because you don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” he said, his voice steady but strained, like he was holding something back.

You leaned back in the chair, still meeting his gaze, challenging him. “Maybe I do.”

Joel let out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he looked away for a moment, trying to compose himself. “You’re playin’ with fire, sweetheart,” he muttered, shaking his head.

But you could see it in his eyes when he looked back at you—he was tempted, and it was taking everything in him to keep his distance.

Despite the lingering grief and the weight of everything you’d been carrying, there was one thing you couldn’t ignore: you wanted him. It wasn’t just a fleeting thought or a harmless crush—it was a deep, undeniable pull. And as much as Joel tried to keep his composure, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his resolve faltered when he looked at you. Deep down, you knew he wanted you too.

You rose from your chair slowly, your bare feet quiet against the floor as you stepped closer to him. Joel watched you carefully, his jaw tightening, his hands gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Joel,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough to break the silence between you.

His name hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He swallowed hard, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he spoke. “This ain’t right,” he murmured, though his voice lacked the conviction it had before.

You took another step closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. “Maybe not,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “But it feels right.”

Joel’s breathing deepened, his chest rising and falling as he stared at you. “You’re still grieving,” he said, his voice strained. “You’re not thinkin’ straight.”

“I’ve been grieving for weeks,” you countered, your voice steadying. “But this… you… you’re the only thing that’s felt real in a long time.”

Joel closed his eyes briefly, his hands flexing against the counter as if he were fighting some internal battle. When he opened them again, there was something raw in his gaze, something that made your breath catch.

“Darlin’,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion, “you have no idea what you’re doin’ to me.”

You stepped even closer, your hand brushing lightly against his arm. “Then show me,” you whispered, your voice daring yet pleading.

Joel’s jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours one last time before he exhaled sharply, his resolve finally breaking.

You stood there, barely an inch away from him, your breath shallow, heart racing. The desire for him flooded you, and in that moment, you knew you needed him. The weight of the grief and the isolation was still there, but it no longer seemed as important. He was right in front of you, his presence undeniable, and you didn't want to back down.

You reached up, your hand gently touching his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Joel's eyes flickered down to your hand, and for a moment, he seemed to lose himself, his breathing becoming heavier. He still tried to hold back, his jaw tightening in restraint.

"I won't stop," you said softly, but with conviction, your voice trembling with the intensity of everything you were feeling. "Not until you're with me."

Joel's gaze snapped back to yours, his lips parting slightly. The tension in the

room was palpable, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the silence hanging heavy as you waited for him to say something-anything.

But instead, he took a slow step closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist. His touch was firm, but the way he looked at you-like he was trying to make a decision he wasn't ready for— made your pulse spike.

"I don't want to hurt you," he murmured, his voice strained. "You don't need this right now."

You met his gaze head-on, refusing to let him retreat any longer. "I need you," you whispered, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them. The admission felt like both a relief and a weight, but you didn't care anymore. You weren't going to back down.

Joel's resolve finally cracked. He closed the distance between you, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss that was both desperate and filled with raw, unspoken emotion. It wasn't gentle or soft-it was heated, urgent, like he'd been holding back for far too long.

And you kissed him back, fiercely, knowing that in this moment, you both needed this. Needed each other.

Joel's groan vibrated against your lips as you deepened the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. The world outside of the kitchen faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a moment of intense longing. His grip on your neck tightened, pulling you closer as if he couldn't get enough of you.

You responded with equal intensity, matching his urgency, your heart racing as you felt his every movement, every shift of his body against yours.

The kiss grew more feverish, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the warmth of his body, and the undeniable chemistry between you.

Joel's hand slid down your back, pressing you closer to him, his lips trailing to your neck, leaving soft, heated kisses in their wake. He paused

for a moment, his breath heavy, and you could feel the tension in him—the struggle between what he wanted and what he knew was right.

"Darlin"," he breathed against your skin, his voice strained, "this... this can't happen."

But despite his protests, his body betrays him once again. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggles to control himself.

He nips at your neck, his lips and teeth marking your skin in a possessive gesture. "But I want you so badly," he growls, his voice laced with frustration.

The sound of your moan sends a shiver down Joel's spine, his resolve crumbling even further. He lets out a curse, his hands moving to grip your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh.

He lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you over to the couch and laying you down on it. He hovers over you, his body pressed against yours, his breathing ragged.

Joel gazes down at you, his eyes dark with lust and desire. He runs his hands over your body, his touch rough and possessive, as if he's claiming you as his own.

He kisses you hungrily, his tongue delving into your mouth as he devours you. He moves his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of marks behind.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he growls against your skin. "How many times I've imagined having you like this."

Joel can feel your body trembling beneath him, and he knows that you're just as affected by this as he is. He lifts his head, looking down at you with a mixture of hunger and adoration.

"I've tried to fight it," he confesses, his voice rough with emotion. "Tried to ignore these feelings, to keep my distance. But every time I see you, every time I hear your voice, I lose a little more control."

“Oh Joel, no more talking and just kiss me already” you teased

Joel lets out a low chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. He loves the way you tease him, the way you challenge him.

"As you wish, darlin'," he replies, his voice dripping with desire.

He captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fierce intensity. He kisses you like a man starved, like he's been waiting his whole life for this moment.

Joel lets out a shuddering breath as you continue to grind against him, the sensation driving him absolutely wild. He can feel himself losing his mind, his control slipping further and further away with each passing moment.

He grits his teeth, trying to hold back his urges, but it's getting harder and harder to resist. He lets out a strained moan, his hips bucking involuntarily to meet yours.

"You're driving me crazy, sweetheart," he growls, his voice low and desperate.

You reach down to fumble with his belt, desperately trying to get it undone and free the thing you wanted the most

Joel watches you with hooded eyes as you struggle with his belt, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He can feel the heat of your hand against him, and it's driving him absolutely insane.

He helps you with the belt, unbuckling it and quickly tossing it aside. He then makes quick work of his jeans, shoving them down his hips along with his boxers.

With his already leaking cock free, Joel grabs both hems of your underwear and slowly but swiftly pulls them down and off exposing your aching cunt

Joel lets out a low, guttural groan as he finally sees you completely bare before him. He can't help but stare for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "And all mine."

Joel continues to kiss and nip at your thighs, slowly working his way closer to your core. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your breathing growing heavier with each passing second.

He reaches your center, his breath hot against your skin. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with desire, before he leans in and licks a slow, teasing stripe up your slit.

Joel grins against your skin as he feels you arch your back, your fingers tangling in his hair. He loves the way you respond to his touch, the way your body reacts to his every move.

He continues to tease you with his tongue, lapping at your folds and circling your clit. He knows exactly what drives you wild, and he's not afraid to use that knowledge to his advantage.

Your head was spinning, you almost couldn’t believe that this was really happening, after everything, But one thing you did know, you needed more.

“Joel, please”

Joel can't help but smirk at your pleading tone, the sound of his name on your lips like music to his ears. He loves it when you beg for him, loves the way you surrender to him completely.

He relents, no longer able to resist your pleas. He moves his mouth to your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking hard.

Joel lets out a low growl as you tug at his hair, the sharp sensation only fueling his desire for you. He redoubles his efforts, his tongue flicking and swirling around your clit with renewed fervor.

He slides a hand up your thigh, his fingers teasing at your entrance before slowly pushing inside.

“Joel-“ you breathed, you wanted more than just his fingers, you appreciated the foreplay but you’ve already done this to yourself countless of times thinking about him that you wanted him fully..

Joel could sense your growing impatience, and he knew exactly what you wanted. He knew you'd been thinking about him too, and the thought of you touching yourself to the thought of him drove him wild.

He continued to work his fingers inside you, his pace quickening as he sought to bring you to the edge. But he could sense your need for more, and he wasn't going to deny you any longer.

He lifted his head, his lips hovering just above yours as he spoke in a rough whisper.

"Tell me what you want, baby."

“I-I want you, your cock”

Joel's eyes darken with desire at your words, and he can't hold back a low, guttural moan.

"You want my cock, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "You want me to fill you up, make you mine?"

You just nodded hoping he could see, you were done talking

Joel could see the desperation in your eyes, the need etched across your face. He knew you were beyond words now, and he was more than happy to oblige.

He moved quickly, positioning himself between your legs and lining himself up with your entrance. He looked down at you, his gaze burning with desire.

"Hold on tight, baby," he growled. "This is going to be rough."

Trying to physically and mentally prepare yourself for what’s about to come

Joel watches you prepare yourself, his chest heaving with anticipation. He can see the mix of nervousness and excitement in your eyes, and it only fuels his own desire.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he slowly pushes into you. He groans against your mouth, the feeling of you around him overwhelming his senses.

Finally.

Joel lets out a low, shuddering breath as he fully sheathes himself inside you. The feeling of being buried to the hilt is almost too much for him to handle, and he has to take a moment to compose himself.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his breath.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispers, his voice rough with pleasure. "So tight and perfect for me."

You clench around him, adjusting to his size

Joel lets out a strangled groan as you clench around him, the sensation almost too much for him to bear.

"Fuck," he curses, his grip on your hips tightening as he tries to maintain some semblance of control. "Do that again, baby. Please."

You continue to do it craving the way Joel is responding to it

Joel's eyes roll back in his head as you continue to clench around him, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. He can't hold back the moans and curses that fall from his lips, his hips instinctively bucking against you.

"You're going to be the death of me," he growls, his voice strained with pleasure. "I can't take much more of this, sweetheart."

Joel starts to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. He savors the feeling of being inside you, the way your body clings to him with each movement.

But his control quickly starts to slip, his need for you overtaking any semblance of restraint he once had. His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming harder and more desperate as he chases his own pleasure.

Your gasping with each thrust as he hits the end of you so deliciously, nails digging into his back as he moves

Joel hisses as your nails dig into his back, the sharp pain only adding to the pleasure he's feeling. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, can hear the gasps and moans falling from your lips with each thrust.

He leans down, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he loses himself in the sensation of being inside you. His hips snap against yours, driving himself deeper and deeper with each thrust.

Joel’s hitting all the right spots and you can feel yourself bubbling closer and closer to the edge

“Fuck- Joel” you stammer “I’m so close”

Joel can feel you getting closer and closer to the edge, your walls clenching around him with each thrust. He can sense your desperation, your body trembling with need.

He lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours as he drives into you harder and faster.

"That’s it darlin," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Cum for me”

You reach down to start rubbing your clit, desperate for your release

Joel watches as you reach down to rub your clit, his eyes darkening with desire at the sight. He can't help but groan at the image, the thought of you touching yourself while he's inside you driving him wild.

"That's my girl" he encourages, his hips bucking against yours as he continues to thrust into you. "Rub that clit for me. I want to feel you come undone around my cock."

And so you do. Coming undone completely as your eyes go dark and the sensation sends an electric pulse through your entire body as you tremble, moaning beneath him

Joel watches as you come undone beneath him, your body trembling and your moans echoing through the room. The sight is enough to send him over the edge, his own release crashing over him like a tidal wave.

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m gonna cum” He buries his face in your neck, letting out a strangled groan as he spills himself inside you. His hips continue to jerk against yours, riding out the waves of pleasure until he's spent and panting for breath.

He lays there on top of you for a while before getting up and quickly heads to the bathroom to grab a warm, damp cloth. He wants to take care of you, to clean you up and make sure you're comfortable after what just happened.

He returns to the couch a moment later, gently parting your legs and using the cloth to clean away the mess he’s made in between your legs. His touch is gentle and tender, his eyes soft as he focuses on taking care of you.

Joel slides his underwear back on and lifts you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carries you to your bed. He's always loved how small and fragile you feel in his arms, how you fit against him perfectly.

He lays you down gently on the bed, tucking the blankets around you before climbing in beside you. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight against his chest.

Joel held you tightly, his chin resting atop your head as his hand stroked your back in slow, soothing circles. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear grounded you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe.

You cuddled into Joel, burying your face against his chest as his warmth surrounded you. His scent—faintly of soap, coffee, and something distinctly him—was soothing, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.

His arms tightened around you protectively, and you felt the steady rise and fall of his chest with every breath he took. It was calming, like a silent reassurance that everything was okay.

You let out a quiet sigh, allowing yourself to melt into him. Joel’s hand moved to rest gently on your back, his touch slow and deliberate, as though he wanted to remind you he wasn’t going anywhere.

a/n: soo that happened 🥴 I couldn’t wait any longer to get the show on the road lmao

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 54

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I am back to work tmrw.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You choose a simple dress. You like the shade of peach even as Loki eyes you archly. It might not be the choice that offends him but the state of yourself. Your nose is still healing, bandaged but not as heavily, and you have much left to recover. His own injuries remain tinged on his pale skin.

You shimmy the dress on and turn your back to him as he drones cynically. His fingers creep up along your bottom to meet the zipper and he tugs it up slowly. He’s reluctant. 

“What is it? You don’t like the dress?” You face him.

“I’d rather prefer you naked,” he purrs with a wink, “but I am not overly fond of the colour, no.” 

“Oh, but... you bought it?” 

“Yes, my sister did have it included in the purchase but... it is rather bright.” 

“I like it,” you run your hands over your stomach and hips, “it fits nicely but if you want me to change...” 

“No, darling, do what you wish,” he crosses his arms, “I must learn to let you do so.” 

You narrow your eyes. His malleability does not come without resentment. You shrug. You don’t have all day to be sussing out his preference. 

“What is it you and my mother have planned?” He asks. 

“I’m not certain,” you say as you search for your phone. The one he gave you. 

“No? Hm, darling, what about a necklace?” He goes to the jewellery box and plucks out a golden chain with a peridot emblem.  

“I guess,” you dig around in your work bag, most of your luggage still unpacked. 

“You guess? It is a pretty necklace. What about amethyst?” 

“Loki,” you fish out your phone but not the one you meant to. Your old flip.  

You put it down on the nightstand stiffly and return to your search. It feels so long ago that you were that person. That sad girl living with your father and flitting through a meandering existence. You won’t say you’ve moved up very much, still at the whim of a man, but you feel distant from that person. 

Perhaps Walpurgisnacht was more a rebirth than you could know. 

“Pet...” Loki comes closer as you retrieve your work phone. It’s dead.  

“I need to charge it,” you show him the device. 

“You should toss the old one. Doubt it even works.” 

“I know, I will. I have to back it up,” you say evasively. There’s not much on it but it’s the only connection you still have to your previous life. You’re not ready to slice through that last strand. 

“Mm, right then, well, another to do for the list,” he steps nearer and tickles your waist, “suppose you delay your little outing with my mother and I take you to lunch--” 

“She’s a guest, and your mother,” you rebuke. “Loki, I’m only doing what I need to do. Isn’t that what you want?” 

He sighs, “yes, but... it is still my house. I would like more than my leave. I should say when you need go pick out flowers or tablecloths or whatnot.” 

“Proposals typically lead to all that,” you say, “at least from what I know.” 

“What you know?” He muses. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen a few Kate Hudson movies,” you quip and give a goofy smile but quickly repress it. “Sorry, that wasn’t... funny.” 

His cheeks dimple and his nostrils flair, his lips slightly curved, “is that... humour? From you?” 

“Well, I... yeah, why not?” 

“Hm, it isn’t a slight but you are not one for laughter.” 

“Or maybe you’ve never made me laugh,” you blurt out and quickly snap your mouth shut. 

His brows drop and his smile too. You stare at him. Oops. You are getting to comfortable. Even if you are to be his wife, you aren’t his equal. You don’t know that you could ever be. 

He chuckles, “darling, how very sharp.” He reaches to frame your chin and turns you to him completely, “I should try harder then, to hear your sweet laughs.” 

You smile, a flutter in your chest, “that’s sweet.” 

“I am sweet,” he says, offended. “What do you mean?” 

You just stare at him. Is he kidding? 

“Don’t,” he warns with a frown. “Very well, go, have fun. Should I need anything, I will be certain to let mother know since you will be without tether...” he keeps his hand on you, squeezing, “you will be safe with her, I know.” 

“Loki,” you murmur, “he’s not coming back. He wouldn’t.” 

He stares at you solemnly, “no, he shouldn’t.” 

It seems as if he doubts his own words. For a moment, you do too. He knows his brother much better. Yet, how can Thor return when all have turned their backs on him? 

“There is no hurry, mother can wait...” 

“Loki, she’s only visiting,” you remind him, “the sooner it’s done, the sooner they go, right?” 

“Mm, you are clever,” he looks past you with apprehension, “suppose so. And I should speak with father about some things...” he leans in and kisses your forehead, withdrawing absently as he taps his fingertips together, “weddings and such...” 

You give him a look but he’s too distracted to notice. This whole affair is his idea and yet he is uncertain. You watch him placidly. 

“We don’t have to... marry--” 

“No, no,” he returns his attention to you, “of course we must. We will—how could you—oh, I know it is all very new to you, pet, but trust in me. It isn’t my first rodeo. Regrettably.” 

You feel a pang at the allusion to his previous marriage. You remember Sif with her sleek figure and her perfect smile and her sparkling eyes. You are second in all ways to her. 

“I should go,” you insist with a sniff. 

“Mm, yes, you should,” he grabs your shoulders and lays another kiss, this time on your lips. “I have told mother very strictly not to dawdle so you shouldn’t either.” 

“We’ll be fine,” you assure him. 

“When did you get so confident,” he teases as he retracts from you. 

You offer a sheepish smile. Not confident, but hopeful. A change nonetheless. 

✨

Frigga insists on lunch before you do anything. You’re struck with deja vu as she returns to that same place you went to with her sons. That day feels like eons ago but it’s been just over a month. 

The change feels all the more sudden after a lifetime of stagnancy. With your dad, every day blurred together, the constancy was as dull as it was oppressive. Yet, you mourn it all the same. The spontaneity and turbulence of your new existence proves just as paralysing at times. 

You may have gone from maid to fiancee, but it doesn’t dissolve your expected deference. You are marrying into the Odinsons, they have no need to ingratiate themselves to you. Even as the reminder of her elder son troubles you, you will not mention your worries aloud to the matriarch. 

Frigga orders a sparkling water with fruit, you ask for the same. The waitress is not subtle as she eyes your bandaged nose. Just another reason for you to feel out of place. It's tender but feels much better.

You peer up at the sky as you sit in the open patio and the scent of the curated flowers around the space wafts in the air. Your dress rustles and tickles your leg, causing you to flinch. Another flash of before. That day you ate with Thor at your side, his hand under the table... 

You shudder and blow away the memory. You reach for your water and sip as you look over the entrees. Your appetite is erratic. One second you’re ravenous, the next, nauseous. The tuna sounds good but sickening at once. You’ll get a salad. 

“We will have to plan an engagement party first. Perhaps a local venue for that,” she looks at her phone and turns it on its screen as you hear it buzzing. 

“Or the house? I thought... the gazebo...” 

“Mm, yes, I recall, what was the name of that contractor you hired? I wouldn’t mind a similar build back at our house. Oh, and perhaps if you did want to do the wedding at home as well, a wedding arch might be a thought. I’m certain a carpenter might be up to that task,” she continues, ignoring how her phone rattles her glass. “So, we’ll skip over venues then. But invitations, perhaps? Oo, do you have a dress in mind? A brunch or something in the evening?” 

You can hardly keep up with her questions. At least she offers distraction from the shadow looming over your shoulder. Both of them. If it isn’t one son, it’s the other. 

The waitress returns and you order. Frigga eyes you as she puts in for a monte cristo with the soup du jour. You try to smile. You’re tired. 

“Are you okay, dear? You’ve not been eating very much.” 

“Oh, haven’t I?” You squirm evasively. “I’m... fine, I guess I just have a lot on my mind.” 

“Oh, darling, forgive me if I am overloading you,” she fans herself with her hand, “I apologise. I’ve a bad habit of getting head over feet about these things. I have so many ideas all at once but if I sit still, I feel I might burst.” 

Her words call you back to Loki pacing and circling at the hotel, then at home, he manic muttering. 

“It’s alright. I don’t think of any of it. I don’t know where to begin,” you assure her. 

“Ah, well, yes, but I’ve had a wedding and my son’s had a wedding already,” she chuckles, “so I do have a bit more experience. You shouldn’t worry terribly if you have questions. I am simply here to guide you.” 

“I know--” 

Her phone shakes again and she sighs.  

“Pardon,” she tilts the phone up and you see the incoming call; Loki. She quickly turns off the ringer. “My, he is a pest. It cannot be that important--” 

“I don’t have my phone,” you say, “maybe he needs something.” 

“My son can wait. He is so selfish. Especially about you. Surely, he trusts his own mother,” she scoffs, “anyhow, I think a luncheon might be pleasant enough. Perhaps with a theme. Summer is here and the flowers will be lovely this time of season.” 

“Excuse me, miss,” the waitress comes up to the table, a cordless phone in her hand, “there’s a gentleman on the phone asking for you.” 

You frown at Frigga then glance up, realising the woman is speaking to you. You blink and take the phone from her. You put it to your ear, staring at Frigga. 

“Hello?” 

“Pet,” Loki bursts eagerly, “oh, I knew you’d be there. Yes, I only wanted to check in, hear your voice, but I couldn’t get through to mother.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, we were just ordering--” 

‘Give me the phone’ Frigga mouths and gestures. 

“I...” you begin and her green eyes flare. You hand over the phone. 

“Loki, this is not your time. You can wait. We are busy. You have a lovely day and we will be home in a few hours,” she says tritely, “certainly, you might find something to keep yourself busy.” 

She doesn’t wait for his response as she hits the end button and hands the phone back to the server, thanking her with a smile. The brunette flits away and you tap your fingers on the table top. Frigga plays with a wave and pushes it behind her ear, “darling, don’t even worry about my son. You just focus on yourself.” 

“Thank you, I just...” 

“You just don’t worry,” she repeats, “if my son has issue with us doing exactly as we told him we would, then he may take it up with me. Uh, he always was a needy little boy.” 

You almost laugh. You might agree with part of her sentiment but you could never imagine Loki as a little boy. In your mind, he just seems as if he’s always been grown. Not like you.  

You’ve always felt clueless and inadequate. As if you never moved past childhood, that you got caught behind some wall and watched the adults from afar. Yet, now that you’re on the other side, you still feel a barrier. Like them, but not the same. 

Not like the Odinsons especially. A family. You don’t have any of that. The more you think of the wedding, the more you see empty seats. No bridesmaids, not father-daughter dance, no one on your side. 

“Dear, have I upset you?” Frigga cuts the silence and you catch yourself staring at the table. 

You shake your head and sit up, “no, sorry, just thinking...” you scramble for a lie. You hate that you do that so often now, “what about a tea party?” 

“A tea party? Marvelous, I love it,” she trills, “oh, yes, we will have to find some fine porcelain for the event.” 

“Loki has lots--” 

“Yes, but this is special, dear. You’ll need a special set so you can always remember the party. Oh, and teas. There is a tea shop nearby. They sell loose leaf. We can have a whole array. Ooh, and biscuits, pastries...” she begins to list off. You let her, thankful to forget everything else for the minutest of details. Tea is easy. 

[overrboarrd]

UNBREAK MY HEART [ from scratch pt. iii ]

a/n: i’m not jinxing myself no more y’all. every time i say ima post something, i get super busy and it gets pushed back a whole week. so here’s part 4, it’s just as tense as the last part so pls don’t hate me <3

warnings: angstt

"un-break my heart , say you'll love me again undo this hurt you caused when you walked out the door and walked out of my life"

“You look like hell, uce,” Jon finally broke the empty silence that filled his living room.

Joe sat on the edge of Jon’s couch, staring blankly at the bottle of beer in his hand. The condensation dripped down onto his palm, cold and unrelenting, but it was nothing compared to the storm raging in his chest. He hadn’t planned to come here, but the quiet echoes of his own house had been unbearable. Jon’s place, noisy with the distant sound of his kids playing in the backyard, at least gave him the illusion of calm. He huffed out a laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Thanks. That’s exactly what I came to hear.” Joe leaned back. The television played some highlights of last night’s football game, but neither of them paid much attention.

Jon sat in the armchair beside him, his sharp gaze pinned on his cousin. He didn’t push, not yet, but Joe knew the look. It was the same one Jon gave him when they were kids, back when Joe had tried to hide bruises he got from football practice. The look that said Jon could see right through him.

“What’s goin on?”

“Nothing.” Joe shrugged, taking a slow sip of his beer and keeping his gaze fixed on the bottle.

“Bullshit.” Jon’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a challenge.

Joe clenched his jaw. “It’s just the rehab.”

Jon’s brow lifted. “The rehab? Or Camille?”

At her name, Joe’s stomach twisted, and the beer suddenly tasted bitter. He set the bottle down on the coffee table with a thud, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, too bad,” Jon said, unfazed. “You’re here, which means you do wanna talk about it. You just don’t know how to start.”

Joe’s head snapped up, anger flaring in his chest. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

Jon shrugged. “I’ve known you your whole life. You bottle everything up, uce. Always have. You keep stuffing things down until they explode. And when they do, you the one left pickin up the pieces.”

Joe scoffed, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s better that way. Some things don’t need to be talked about.”

“Like Camille?” Jon pressed.

Joe glared at him, his jaw tightening. “You don’t get it.”

“Then make me get it,” Jon said, his tone softening as his posture straightened. “Come on, Joe. What’s really goin on?”

For a moment, Joe said nothing. He stared at the wall, his mind a whirlwind of emotions he didn’t want to feel. The lime-washed wall blurred in his mind, replaced by Camille’s face—the tension in her jaw when she was focused, the way her voice softened just enough when she thought he was in pain.

But he let the words come, sharp and raw, cutting through the silence.

“Seeing her every day is like ripping open a wound that won’t heal,” he said, his voice low and strained. “She’s right there, just trying to fix my shoulder like… like none of it even mattered. Like I didn’t matter. Like she didn’t walk out on me without a damn word.”

Jon hummed, letting a beat pass before speaking. “You think that’s how she really feels?”

“I don’t know,” Joe snapped. “And honestly, I don’t care.” He leaned forward again, his hands gripping his knees. “I gave her everything, Jon. I didn’t hold anything back. I loved her, and she still left. And now she’s just…here. And I’m supposed to just… what? Pretend it didn’t happen? Pretend I’m not still pissed as hell that she didn’t even give me a chance to fix whatever the hell went wrong?”

Jon leaned forward too, his expression serious. “So you gonna tell her all that? Or you just gonna carry it around, hoping she’ll figure it out on her own?”

Joe shook his head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “It wouldn’t matter, she still walked out of that rink. I fought for her, Jon. I fought like hell after that. What’s the point of trying to bring it up?”

“The point,” Jon said, his voice steady, “is that you still care. And don’t try to deny it, uce, ‘cause I can see it all over your face. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be this angry. You wouldn’t be here, venting to me.”

Joe’s chest tightened, and he looked away, his jaw clenching. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is,” Jon agreed. “But the thing is —you got a choice. You can keep holdin on to all this anger, or you can let yourself feel the other stuff too. The hurt, the love, the hope. Yeah, she left, but she’s here now. Don’t you think that might mean something?”

“The hell am I supposed to do about it now? Cause every time I see her, all I feel is this...mix of anger and—” He stopped, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I can’t do that shit again. I won’t.”

Jon sighed, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Look, I’m not sayin you shouldn’t protect yourself. But you’re not just protecting yourself—you’re shutting her out. And maybe she deserves that, maybe she doesn’t. Maybe you just gotta be honest with yourself and Cam. You got her in front of you again, uce. How many people get that kind of second chance? But if you don’t at least try to talk some of it out, you gonna regret it.”

The room fell quiet again, the weight of Jon’s words pressing on Joe’s chest. He didn’t respond, unable to find the right thing to say.

Jon stood, clapping a hand on Joe’s shoulder. As Jon walked back to the kitchen, Joe sat, staring at the condensation pooling on the coffee table. He hated that his cousin was right.

But knowing it and doing something about it were two very different things.

—---

Architect was unnervingly quiet, the kind of silence that wrapped around Joe like a vice, squeezing tight and leaving no room to breathe. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead only served to amplify the emptiness. He glanced at the clock on the far wall. 7:45 PM. The place had officially closed fifteen minutes ago, but he and Camille were still here. Alone.

She stood a few feet away, her back to him as she sanitized the treatment table. The sharp smell of cleaning solution filled the air, and her movements were mechanical, almost as if she were trying to avoid looking at him.

“Alright,” she said, her voice clipped as she turned to face him. “Let’s get started. We’ll do some stretches first, then work on the strengthening exercises.”

Joe nodded, the words sticking in his throat as he sat down on the edge of the table. His body ached, not from the rehab, but from the weight he’d been carrying since the moment she walked back into his life. Almost two full weeks of these sessions, of her being so close yet so distant, had worn him down to the raw nerve.

Camille reached for his arm, gently guiding it into position for the stretch. Her touch was clinical, but his skin burned where her fingers brushed against him, igniting a fire he’d been trying to smother since the day she’d left.

“Joe, relax your shoulder, you’re compensating with your back again.” she instructed, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before darting away.

“I got it,” He snapped, his tone sharper than intended.

Camille stepped back, swallowing the urge to bite back. Instead, she softened her voice. “I know you do. But this isn’t about pushing through pain, it’s about healing.”

Joe dropped his arm abruptly, the band snapping back as he let out a frustrated grunt. “Healing?” he said bitterly, his voice low but laced with anger. “You think this is healing? Having to sit here, day after day, while you pretend like nothing happened between us?”

Camille froze, the words slicing through the professional barrier she’d carefully maintained. “Pretending? Joe-”

“I’m not gonna put up with this!” he gestured between them. “This… act you been putting on for the past two weeks. Actin’ like we’re all good. Like you didn’t just walk out of my life without a saying anything.”

Her eyes widened as her face faltered slightly. “Joe, I’m here to help you with your recovery. That’s all.”

“Bullshit,” he shot back, sliding off the table. “You don’t just get to come back into my life and pretend like we’re strangers. You don’t get to act like what you did didn’t wreck me.”

“Can you just lis—”

“No,” he cut her off, creating some distance between them. His broad shoulders heaved as he turned to face her, his eyes blazing. “You don’t get to talk right now. I spent two years with you, Camille. Two years building a life, planning a future, only for you to rip it all away without even telling me why. Do you know how many nights I sat in that empty house, wondering what I did wrong? Wondering why I wasn’t enough for you?”

Her composure cracked, her lips trembling as she took a step back. “It wasn’t about you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then what was it about?” he demanded, his anger boiling over. “Because from where I was standing, it sure as hell felt like it was about me.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, but she blinked them away, straightening her shoulders. “You… you were everything to me, Joe. And that terrified me. I was scared of losing myself in you. I-I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“So you ran,” he said bitterly. “Instead of talking to me, instead of letting me in, you just left.”

“I didn’t know how to stay,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I was afraid I’d ruin everything. Afraid I’d ruin you.”

Joe laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Well, congratulations. You managed to do that anyway.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging between them. Camille’s tears finally spilled over, but she held his gaze, refusing to look away. “I know I hurt you. And I’ve hated myself for it every single day. But you were so sure of everything. Your career, your life, your love for me… I didn’t know how to keep up with that. I didn’t know how to be enough for you.”

Joe’s expression softened, though the hurt lingered in his eyes. “You were enough, Camille. You were always enough. But you didn’t even give me the chance to show you that. You didn’t trust me to handle your fears. You just left.”

Camille’s voice broke as she replied, “Because I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t think I deserved the kind of love you were offering. And by the time I realized I was wrong, it felt too late to come back.”

He'd figured this moment would come, but he hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. Joe turned away, running a hand over his face as he tried to calm the storm inside him. “I loved you, Camille. I still…” He stopped himself, his chest heaving. “I would’ve never given up on us like that. ”

“I know I made a mistake.” Her voice cracked again, and she quickly wiped at her tears. “And I never stopped loving you. I just—" Her voice rang in his ears, the rawness of her words made his chest tighten. “I don't know if it's too late, but I needed you to know that.”

Joe's eyes fell shut, his mind warring between anger and the yearning he’d tried to bury. Her confession hung in the air, vulnerable and raw like a blade against his skin, carving open old wounds he thought had scarred over. For so long, he had craved those words. In the sleepless nights when the silence was louder than his thoughts, in the moments when he reached for his phone only to remember there was no one waiting on the other end. He wanted to yell, to tell her she was too late, that the man she had left behind didn’t exist anymore. But the truth… the truth was that her absence had never stopped haunting him. He stood rigid, his emotions snarled in a web of anger, longing, and something dangerously close to hope.

Camille searched his face, her own filled with fragile hope and deep regret. "I’m not asking you to forgive me," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m just asking for a chance to show you that I’m not the same person who left.”

“I don't trust you," he admitted, a long silence filled the room before he shook his head softly. "But I…I don’t know if I can let you go again, either.”

[jarofstyles]

Illicit 10

Here we are, babes. The last official part of the main Illicit story. It’s bittersweet because I finally completed something lmao but also, I really love them and their story.

Safe to say this isn’t the last you’ll see of them. I’m fully planning on doing little flashbacks and check ins with them, feel free to let me know what you would like to see/if you have any unanswered questions. Thank you for reading!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings

Illicit masterlist

WC- 3.3k

Warnings- mention of wounds, stitching, having children, marriage talk, nightmares, etc

——-

“Harry, for the love of god, please be careful of your arm.” Y/N winced in worry as the man carried firewood over to their fire pit. He had not been taking his injury half as seriously as he had been taking Y/N’s concussion, treating her like the ‘delicate little bird she was.’ He’d gotten an eye roll for that. Of course he wasn’t letting her help lug the wood for their night in front of the fire. She’d requested with sleepy eyes earlier in the morning to make smores because they’d been in her dream and Harry was giving her basically anything she wanted. 

“M’fine, baby.” He laughed, appreciating her concern but knowing the injury barely stung anymore. “The stitches are coming out tomorrow, and we pushed it, keeping them until then. Only kept them because you wanted me to.” 

It had been about 2 weeks since the attack and they’d left for the lake house. As much as he knew it was terrifying for the both of them, he was utterly relieved to have Katherine behind bars. He’d made sure to keep updated by his contact in the force to know what was happening with her case. Apparently she had really lost it, but Harry didn’t give a fuck. He wanted her to rot behind bars, to live miserably and have Y/N be safe without the threat of some crazy ex-who-isn’t-an-ex looming in the background. 

Harry had kept work to a minimum, only logging in to oversee the decisions he had to make. There had been no calls besides the nightly one with his COO to ensure things were running smoothly. Other than that, his entire attention had been on Y/N. They’d barely left the house considering at first Y/N had been a bit embarrassed of her injuries. Another reason he’d hate Katherine until the day he died. Harry always was one to hold grudges, he was infamous for it. She’d never know peace if the man had anything to do with it. 

They were healing incredibly well, Harry taking the time at night to set her on the bathroom counter and wipe them clean and apply the healing ointment to them. The only one that was more than a fading scab was the one on her head along with the slight discoloration the black eye had caused. Other than that, he was more than relieved to see her bouncing back. The only thing that plagued him still was the nightmare. 

His nightmares. 

They’d always start the same, almost a play by play of what had happened to him walking into the home and up the stairs- only when he got there it had been too late. In his nightmare, the knife had already taken Y/N’s life and he couldn’t do anything to save her. He always woke up before the knife struck him, but it actually hurt him. It was a little difficult for him to admit to her, always wanting to be the strong one when it came to their pairing- someone for her to lean on fully- but she had cried once he told her and insisted that she wanted to be there for him. That a partnership was made out of balance and while she could offer him some of the same things he did for her, she was more than capable to be his emotional shoulder to cry on. It had been a tough thing to come to terms with but this week seemed to be healing. Not just physically, either. 

“Ms. Greta, please tell him to take it easy.” Y/N pouted at the older woman who brought out the tray of s’more making supplies. She’d made sure to add the peanut butter cups as requested. 

“I’m afraid if he won’t listen to you, he won’t listen to anyone.” She chuckled. “Men will be men, and that includes straining their physical health for the macho man act. One day they learn we do know what we are talking about.” A little wink was sent her way as Harry huffed, arranging the wood in the fire pit with a grumble. 

“Because I’m fine.” He stressed, standing up straight and crossing his arms. “It’s healed up nicely. I’m more than capable of setting up a little fire.” Crossing over to Y/N, he stole a kiss before grabbing the lighter and a few other things. “Just sit pretty and let your man do the work, baby. I’ve got it.” 

There was a snort heard from both women but Ms. Greta was now off the clock, wishing them a good night before retreating into the house. As much as he loved having the woman around, he really was obsessed with this alone time with Y/N. There was the residual guilt he had over her being treated less than ideally because he was juggling the faux relationship and the contract, but he knew now that he was going to have to take a bit of a step back from work in order to do that. He’d delegate as he was supposed to be doing to begin with, assign more to his assistant, take Y/N more places and on more dates out in public. He couldn’t fucking wait to attent events with her and show her off. 

He’d been waiting months to let people know who his heart belonged to, and he was finally getting the chance to do so. It was obvious now since the articles had been a media frenzy over the attack, things leaked he couldn’t pinpoint. The only thing he had been commenting on was the fact that Y/N wasn’t a mistress, Katherine wasn’t his lover that was scorned, and there was no true excuse for the actions. It was a good thing in hindsight that they were there, alone. No one had a true clue about the location and he didn’t feel like being hounded by paparazzi- though hopefully they knew better now than to test him and his hatred for the cameras.

One thing that had been burning into him, though, was a question he’d been wanting to ask her. One he knew that was a bit unorthodox but a necessary one nonetheless. 

She sat across his lap, his hoodie covering her tank top and denim shorts as her legs swung slightly while they waited for the fire to burn a bit hotter so they could roast their marshmallows.

“When would you like to get married?” He asked. “And how many kids are we thinking about?” 

The girl nearly snapped her neck as she looked at him with wide eyes, the not so casual question leaving his mouth as if it was him asking what she wanted for dinner. Harry always did find a way to shock the hell out of her but this was definitely one of the top questions that had caught her off guard.  Secretly, she’d assumed Harry had that all figured out. He always made sure to let her know how much he appreciated her opinions and her thoughts, that they were important to him- but he was a planner. Harry was the man in charge and she was happy to let him be. It took a lot of weight off of her shoulders that she wouldn’t admit to anyone else actually weighed on her. 

“Uh…” She blinked at him a few times. “I’m not sure. Kinda figured you’d be the one to pop the question. But honestly… Maybe a year? A few months? I dunno.” There was a slight lump in her throat. “I’ve no doubt I want to be with you the rest of my life so part of me feels like I’d probably be fine eloping right now if that was something you wanted but… We haven't really had the chance to be a couple out in the open. While I doubt that’s going to change much considering we feel so strongly, I think it would be kind to ourselves to let us iron out some of the details first before we fully tie the knot.” There wasn’t a right or wrong answer but it still made her a little nervous to answer. “As for kids? I’m not sure. 2? 3? I’d probably say we have one first and figure it out from there.” It wasn’t like they’d have to worry about resources externally but she knew Harry valued family more than anything and he’d want to be an active father. He’d already indulged that detail to her one night when they were particularly loved up. However, neither of them had any children so they didn’t know the workload it would entail, nor did they know how they’d work as parents. Of course they’d figure it out but it would make it a bit more clear on how many they could handle.

“First of all, as much as I’d love to call you my wife right this second… I could never deprive you of the wedding you deserve.” Y/N had told him about the fact that she had always dreamt about her wedding as a little girl. She had pinterest boards full of themes and wedding dresses she’d want to try and cake designs. He wasn’t about to deprive her of those things for his selfish needs.. Harry knew he was indeed a selfish bastard in every other facet of his life, but when it came to Y/N and his soon to be family? That was his only exception. “My mum would probably keel over dead if I did that too. Trust me, you’re going to get your princess wedding.” There was no debating that. “And for kids… I’d love to give you many, many babies.” His tone turned smooth, a little smirk lighting up his face and the twinkle of his eye. “But I think I agree. My idea had been 2-4, but I’ll take as many as you’ll give me. Always.” His hand pulled her in so he could press a kiss to her cheek, muttering a soft declaration of love. 

“Love you more.” She sighed, leaning further into his chest. “I’m so happy that we can live our lives when we get back. I know it’ll probably be a little crazy but there's no more hiding. We can go out and hold hands and kiss, people are going to know we belong to each other.” The giddiness on her face was bittersweet. “I’m so excited to be with you properly.”

The tinge of guilt hit him full on in the stomach, making him frown as he looked into the fire. He knew he had fucked up several times on this journey and Y/N just had a lot of patient and given him a lot of grace when he knew for a fact most other people wouldn’t- but that made it feel a little worse. He’d been wrong in not ditching the contract immediately. “Baby?” He said, voice quieter as he met her eyes. “I’m sorry. Genuinely sorry that I’m a stubborn son of a bitch and I didn’t just dissolve the contract and take on a lawsuit. I should have done it the day I met you because I knew you were going to mean a lot to me even there. I… I know I’ve told you a lot how you were the first and only person to ever make me feel the way you do, but it’s more than that. And my hard headed shit got us into something awful. I know I fucked up and you are more generous than I deserve but…” His fingers tenderly moved the hair from her face, stroking her cool cheek. “I’m going to work every single day for the rest of my life to make it up to you. I’m going to make you the most spoiled, well traveled, happiest woman I possibly can.” His voice stayed quiet as he searched her eyes for any hint of resentment but somehow there wasn’t any there. 

“H.. I knew what I signed up for. You’d been nothing but honest with me the night I ignored you. You laid it all out for me. I knew that you were taken in name only and I liked you so much that I agreed. I never felt like I played second to her. You can say a lot of things about you, lovely, but subtle isn’t one of those things. You never made me feel like she was important. I understood how important your business was to you- it’s the most important thing to you. Did I like seeing you with her? No. But you made it so clear to me that I was yours and you were mine, I never felt like… I never had any competition.” Y/N tried to soothe the ache she knew he felt. Of course she hadn’t liked people thinking he belonged to someone else but she knew he loved her. The most she had ever been loved, the most unashamed. 

“First, I have a correction- You are the most important thing to me. I’d give it all up for you.” That wasn’t a sentence anyone could take lightly, nor one he would ever thought he would say. It used to be the truth, but now it was far from it. “You are my life.” His gaze bore into her own as he cupped her cheek.  “There was never any competition. If we want the honest truth, I thought I’d marry as a business decision. I thought I’d probably not have any kids considering I only ever wanted children out of love. I was happy working until I was gray and about to keel over. Business was my only reason for being, and it wasn’t something I minded- but you gave my life so much more, so much color, my angel.” He’d never sounded more fond in his life, looking at his heaven sent gift perched in his lap. “I didn’t realize there was more to life until I met you. You opened my eyes and made my heart soften. I give a shit about a lot more than numbers now and it’s because of you.” 

People could say he did it himself but he knew the truth. Without meeting Y/N his life would have been the same robotic function it had been since he got out of uni, and he wouldn’t have complained. He’d never know how much he would miss out on. “I thank whoever in the world sent you to me every damn day and you know m’not religious. You are my miracle. It made me feel so fucking sick walking in that house and thinking you were hurt, I have never in my life felt that sort of terror. But I’d do it all again in order to keep you.” The scar on his arm was a reminder of that. 

“I love you, H. The most in the world.” Her eyes watered a little as she smiled at him. “I’m sorry you got scared. I was scared too, scared she would do worse with that knife though I’m still upset you got hurt at all. But I’d go through every bit of it again too.” She sniffled, feeling his thumb brush under her eye as a tear fell. “I know I want everything with you. The marriage and babies and our own house with a pool, if that’s something you want too. You’re the love of my life.” 

“And you’re mine.” He mumbled, pressing his lips to hers. “M’gonna spend every day proving that to you. Just wait and see, my angel. My heart is yours.”  

—-------

Nails dug into Harry’s back as he rocked slowly into his girl in their brand new home. One he’d bought her as a surprise when they arrived back into the city, leaving their old memories behind in the other penthouse and moving on to the next chapter in the rest of their lives. 

“H-Harry…” She bleated, holding on to him while the other hand grabbed his face and pulled his face down so he could be kissed. “Thank you. You always take c-care of me.”

His pace as slow and deep, pressing in as far as he could go on the brand new sheets they’d picked out together. The sunset bled into their room as they breathed each other in, wrapped up in their covers on their first night sleeping there. He’d spared no expense making sure he got the best of the best for her. He was dedicated to the cause, dedicated to proving to her that she was the most precious thing to him in the world. 

“M’always going to take care of you, my love.” He nudged his nose against hers as he dipped his hips to get deeper inside of her. It was like they couldn’t get close enough to one another, her legs wrapped snug around his hips while he kept himself up with one hand, the other under her neck. The term making love was fully about this. It was unmistakable. “You were made for me.” 

He couldn’t wait to spend every morning like this for the rest of his life. The man who used to cringe at the idea of fucking anyone face first now had it as his preferred position, wanting to make sure he could see every second of her reactions to him. She was snug around his cock, taking him like it was her only job in the world. He’d had no problem doing only this for the rest of his life. 

“And you were… you were made for me. We’re made for each other.” Y/N nodded, pressing another open mouthed kiss to his lips as he kept the steady pace, hitting the delicious spot he always knew how to find. “You know my body perfectly. It’s yours forever.” It was both the truth and a bit of a taunt, knowing how much he loved when she spoke like that. 

“You are. You’re mine and m’all yours, never have to share me. I love you so fucking much, Y/N.” He whimpered as her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging on it as she was filled over and over again. He hit the perfect spot and was trying to get her to cum, trying to have her finish all over him so he could do the same and stay deep inside for a while. Craving this sort of closeness was an addiction, one he didn’t plan on cutting. The obsession with Y/N grew each and every day. “I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

The woman whined out his name at the last sentence, tugging him closer with her legs as she soaked up every bit of heat from him. It didn’t matter what happened, who tried to get in their way- they would always belong to one another. There was an understanding between both of them knowing this love was bone deep, soul deep, it only deepened by the day. When it felt like they couldn’t love each other more it just kept growing, no matter how full they felt. It was everything. 

A love like this was something people revered as pure, perfect, something that everyone craved and yearned for. Something out of a book or a movie, the sort of feeling that trumps all other people and situations. Their passion and yearning for one another had been cultivated in anything but pureness, it was made in the dark. It always made him laugh a little to know that such a concept had blossomed into a real, tangible thing that he could feel between their bodies, something he could see when he looked at her, something he could taste when he kissed her. 

A love that stayed between the lines wasn’t the type that grew stronger- that’s why he smiled when they called it illicit.

[wheneverfeasible]

I know everyone loves Wayne and Claudia falling in love, but what about Wayne and Susan?

cw: alcoholism

Think about it. Post S4 where Eddie and Max live ofc but are greatly hurt. And it’s a fucking wake up call for Susan Hargrove née Mayfield, let me tell you. Her daughter was almost killed and she was none the wiser because, when she isn’t working, she’s drunk/passed out…and sometimes she’s working and drunk. And yeah, she has her own grief, but she’s been ignoring Max’s this whole time and never realized how bad it got until she read Max’s letter to her.

So yeah, she devotes herself to getting sober, to getting better, to being better, both as an individual and as a mother.

Anyways, she’s there in the hospital, visiting Max every chance she can…when she isn’t backsliding into her cup. But she’s trying, it’s just hard. It’s an addiction and her little girl is in a coma and her stepson is dead and her ex-husband had been abusive but he’d been…okay, when he wasn’t angry. But he was gone now, just like her first husband who hadn’t been good either.

While at the hospital, she meets this gentleman she vaguely recalls from the trailer park. He’s there visiting his nephew who’s in a medically induced coma too, and…they get to talking. They commiserate the pain of having a child in the hospital.

She honestly didn’t even know what was going on with the murders because she was wasted the entire time, but Eddie had sold her stuff before, and though she wasn’t quite in her clear mind during those few times, he had seemed like a nice boy, and Wayne spoke so kindly of him now that she honestly couldn’t believe him guilty at all.

Eventually, Eddie heals enough to be brought out of his coma, and Susan is happy for Wayne but sorry to see him go once Eddie is released, but Max is still in a coma and Susan backslides again. She’s honestly kind of drunk at the hospital, a little belligerent even because why won’t her daughter wake up?!?

And then amazingly Wayne is there again, to keep her company, to listen to her woes, and to quietly ask her if she would want Max to see her like this when she wakes up?

The answer is, of course, no.

And Wayne still comes to the hospital to keep her company even after Eddie is released, whenever one of Eddie’s friends are around to keep him company and help him out while under house arrest, and some of those friends are Max’s friends too. She doesn’t recognize all of them, but she knows enough.

And then, some times later, after another round of earthquakes and another visit from a girl with a bleeding nose, Max wakes up.

It’s not easy, and Susan desperately craves a drink every single goddamn day, but…Wayne’s words make her realize she needs help. And surprisingly enough, Wayne is one of the people who helps her. Max visits Eddie when she’s released too—Max is actually a key witness in proving Eddie’s innocence as the only surviving victim of the murder spree—and so Susan and Wayne see each other a lot too.

Wayne gives up drinking in solidarity, even though he never had a problem with it, and together they work towards a life of sobriety. Even though Susan occasionally slips up, even though Wayne isn’t an official sponsor, he never judges her and is always there to offer a listening ear or helping hand when she’s having crisis days.

Wayne helps her stay sober, driving her to meetings, keeping her company when she feels herself backsliding, and in general just being there to support her.

Wayne is, she comes to realize, a caring, sensitive man, just like his nephew. He’s gentle, and even when he gets angry at the unjust world, he never takes it out on anyone as a scapegoat. He never truly raises his voice, never throws things, and never once lays his hand on anyone or anything in anger.

She’s there with Wayne when they catch Eddie kissing the boy who takes care of Max too, Steve. She remembers Neil saying those hateful words to Billy, the way Neil would leave bruises and scars both physical and not. She tenses, knowing what comes next.

Except Wayne just sighs loudly and reminds Eddie to keep it PG in shared spaces. Asks Steve if he caught the game the previous night. Eddie mouths off against Wayne for being a secret jock, and Wayne shoots Steve a look, prompting Steve to smack Eddie upside the head, more playful than anything.

Eddie grins, his hand on Steve’s knee, and Steve sits back with his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, smiles and calls Wayne “Uncle Wayne” easily and Wayne smiles back. The only moment of unease between the three of them was when Eddie and Steve realize she’s there. She pauses, then smiles and says she’s glad she hasn’t had to walk in on Max and anyone yet.

A week later she walks in on Max and Lucas. Wayne laughs at/with her in ironic solidarity.

Wayne helps her on her bad days, and eventually she actually makes it a month sober. Then two. She backslides during the holidays, but Wayne doesn’t judge her. She wants to do better. She just doesn’t think she has the strength to do so.

Until, on a stormy night she stumbles home drunk, she sees Max curled on the couch with tear tracks on her cheeks, having obviously fallen asleep crying. There’s a bat clutched in her arms and all the lights are on. Susan’s entrance startles her awake and Max cries out, terrified, and then when she realizes it’s just her mother there’s such a profound sadness and hurt in her expression that, even three shades to the wind, Susan realizes she never wants to see again.

Susan makes it one month, two months sober. Three months. Four months. Wayne is there every step of the way, and so is Max. There’s guarded hope there and Susan doesn’t want to fail her daughter again. Doesn’t want to fail Wayne, who has been so patient and kind with her. Doesn’t want to fail herself.

Five months sober.

When Susan is handed her six months chip, she wants to celebrate. Previously that would be with wine, or something stronger. Now, she orders pizza and soda and watches Max’s favorite movies with her. She asks Max if she can invite Wayne over too. Max agrees.

After, when Max has fallen asleep with her head in her mom’s lap, her mom’s fingers playing through her hair, Susan and Wayne share a private smile.

Wayne is a good man. Thoughtful, kind, and a better man than she had ever known. When she’s with him, she almost feels like she’s drunk again, except the good kind. The kind that makes you smile, that makes you giddy and happy, the kind that makes you hopeful.

Susan talks to Max. She’s subjected her daughter to terrible men before and she refuses to do it again. But she watches Max with Eddie—and Steve—and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen her smile so much. She watches her with Wayne, and while it had been awkward and wary at first, now Max grins her sharp toothed grin and banters with him just like she does Eddie.

Max takes a moment at her mother’s words, truly considers them. She studies her mother’s face. She looks at the display Eddie made for her to hold her collection of tokens as a thing of honor.

Max looks at the picture of her mother and Wayne that the boy Jonathan had taken during one of the group hang outs at the park. Neither Susan nor Wayne had known the picture was being taken. They were looking at each other, smiling and enraptured in conversation, their pinkies lightly touching on the bench seat.

Max nods and says “Yes.”

Susan asks Eddie.

Eddie gawks for a moment until Steve elbows him in the stomach. Eddie calls her “Lady Susan” and then tells her to keep it PG in shared spaces. Susan blushes and Steve smacks Eddie upside the head.

Susan asks Wayne.

She had never been the one to take initiative before. The men came to her and she accepted it because…well, they seemed okay at the time. Mostly. And she was expected to agree with their desires. Now, however, it’s her desires she listens to, and she doesn’t want an okay man. She wants a good one.

Wayne is startled to see her on his porch, flowers in her hand, and she stutters her request for a date. Wayne takes the flowers. Susan knows she finds a good man when he shyly smiles, flushing but happy with this role reversal, and invites her inside for coffee.

Eddie and Max make kissing sounds from around the side of the trailer.

Steve smacks them both upside the head.

Susan decides that that’s a very good idea, however, and closing the door behind her, she smiles with eyes clear and her heart open and kisses Wayne with the knowledge that being in love is so much better than being drunk.

She doesn’t miraculously stop craving the drink entirely, but she has a man who loves her by her side and a daughter who’s proud of her in her arms and a new son who never fails to make her laugh. And that’s more than enough for her.

Anyways, this is a thought I’ve had for a while, and one I keep intending to include into a fic of mine, though I haven’t had the chance to yet, so take this little thing of mine with you instead.

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[sinofwriting]

Figlia Mia - Charles Leclerc (Part Two)

Words: 1,927 Summary: What do the 2024, 2025, and 2026 season look like with Enzo Ferrari’s granddaughter having taken over the Ferrari F1 team? Read part one here Note(s)/Warning(s): This is a very different fic to what I normally write. The story is mainly told with news headlines and only has 3 blurbs in it. But if you want me to expand on anything in the news headlines or want to see a part three told also with news headlines for the 2027, 2028, and 2029 season let me know! And thank you to @eleetalks for the Italian translation! Also, I shouldn’t have to say this but: How I write the drivers in these fics is not based on my feelings for them, it is just what I need them to be.

Masterlist | Support Me!

2024

January 2025

“I feel like I’m in trouble.” Daniel jokes, as he follows her through the hallways. “I think you just like being trouble.” He grins at her, winking. “Gotta keep you on your toes, huh.” She shakes her head, but grins. “Was the drive okay?” “Better than most. I’ve got a room at the hotel for the next few days as I house hunt.” “No flat?” He scoffs, “for three years? And with the amount of development we’re doing? Fuck that. I’ll go crazy.” She hums, sending a smile to Anita as they pass by her who tuts when seeing Daniel.

“What was that about?” “Anita likes her peace. It’s why she’s worked for us for so long.” “I can be peaceful!” He protests and then immediately makes a face. “Okay, I can try.” She snorts, shaking her head as they reach the dining room.

“Daniel!” Her grandfather greets, a wide smile on his face as he pats Charles hand before the younger moves to her side, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Signor Ferrari!” Daniel cheers, moving to the older man’s side and bending to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re looking amazing. It’s the enchante merch, isn’t it?” He jokes, having sent some to both Ferrari’s right before the 2024 season ended. Enzo huffs out a laugh and she watches Daniel’s face as her grandfather sticks out his leg, sliding his slipper off and Daniel’s jaw drops as he sees the enchante sock on his foot. “Healing properties.” “Holy fuck.” Daniel breathes and they all can’t help but laugh. “I told you, nonno that you’d break him.” Enzo grins at Charles, putting his slipper back on. “I’ve got to keep you kids on your toes.” She rolls her eyes, squeezing Charles upper arm, before moving to properly greet her grandfather. Pressing a kiss to his weathered skin and holding his hand in hers for a few seconds.

“Now tell me as we eat how the car is.” He demands as soon as everyone is sitting and food has been served.

—

“He really overdid it.” Charles murmurs as they both work to get Daniel on the bed. She sighs. “He was talking about house hunting here before we joined. The split hit him a bit harder than I thought.” He frowns, eyes sad as he looks at the man that for a good few years was pretty much his second godfather. “Has he said why?” “Racing. This year was supposed to be his last, but 2024.” She shakes her head, a sad but fond smile on her face. “It really hit him how much he wasn’t ready to leave yet and F1 wasn’t ready for him to leave either. She didn’t want him to go this long, didn’t want to deal with the weird long distance and traveling.” She shrugs. “It sucks, but is fair.” “Is it rude to be grateful that we won’t have to deal with that?” He asks, wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her body against his as they look at Daniel, who's starting to really drift off. “No, il mio destino. Only natural.” My destiny He hums, pressing a kiss to her neck before sighing and unwinding their bodies. “Let me take off his jeans so he’ll be more comfortable.” “I’ll get him a glass of water and make sure to put another pillow under his head, when you lay like that your neck always aches in the morning.” The last part is a murmur and he flushes at her remembering that. Such a small, simple thing.

When Daniel wakes up the next morning he groans at the dry throat he has and the gross feeling of not changing before falling asleep for the night. Turning to the left, his eyes close for a quick second as he murmurs a prayer of thanks before reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand and draining it.

It takes a few minutes for the water to settle in him and for him to realize that he doesn’t have jeans on. He blinks, but shrugs. It wouldn’t be the first time he stripped while asleep, but those were one of his tighter pairs of jeans.

“Daniel.” She greets when he stumbles out of the bathroom and finds himself in a small kitchen. “Morning Stella, Charles.” He rubs at his eyes, clearing the last of sleep away as he sits in the small breakfast nook.

Charles and her share an amused look when the smell of coffee makes Daniel perk up, his face instantly brightening.

“That smells amazing.” She passes a cup to him and Charles presses the small basket slash tray of sugar, creamer, and things closer to the Australian. “Thank you.” He murmurs to both of them before doctoring his cup, murmuring another thank you when a small bowl of fruit is placed in front of him, Charles doing the same.

“I had your luggage delivered to the house.” She states when Daniel is fully awake and halfway through his fruit bowl. His brows press together, hand stilling. “What?” Charles brings his cup to his mouth to hide his smile. “Your luggage, it was brought to the house. Nonno is the only person that lives here full time, Anita, Matteo, and Luca live here when we are not and sometimes when we are. And Charles and I have this whole wing to ourselves, this kitchen, a small living space, a few smaller rooms that were converted into offices, and four bedrooms. We’d like to have you live here as well. Or in the guest house.” Daniel blinks at her. He had forgotten how much she steamrolled and bulldozed through things, it made his lips twitch up into a smile before he turned his attention to Charles. “And you're alright with this?” “You’re family.” Charles states and Daniel can feel tears spring to his eyes at the easy way he says it. “We may have lost sight of that for a few years and only regained it recently, but you are family, Daniel.” He swallows thickly, “fuck.” He breathes, a few tears running down his face before he nods. “Alright, kids. I’ll move in.” And then in a move that shocks Charles, Daniel places a hand on the back of his neck and draws him close before he kisses his forehead and the gesture makes Charles well up. “Jules will kill me for letting you drown for so long.” Charles shakes his head and neither man notices that she has left the room, leaving them to a grief that they share. “No. He’ll be proud we became family again.”

May 2025

She smiles as she watches Ferrari get another 1-2 podium, the third of the season already and it was Charles winning his home race once again.

“You are glowing.” “Maman.” She says, turning slightly to look at Pascale. “I promise that we aren’t hiding anything. We just got married. It’s a newlywed glow.” Her mother in law huffs. “And when will I get my grandchildren?” She shakes her head. “You and my grandfather both. Eventually, I promise. Not right now though. Neither of us are ready for that.”

November 2025

“Daniel, do another lap.” “What?” The word comes out a bit loud and harsh but he listens to Stella, ignoring the checkered flag and starting another lap. “What’s going on, Stella?” It’s quiet for another moment but as he approaches the straight, she speaks. “Daniel, congratulations. You are the 2025 world champion!” “What?” He slows as he takes the turn, her words not registering even though it had been all anyone had been talking about since the weekend started. “You won, Daniel! You’re a world champion!” “Holy fuck.” He curses and as he gets on the straight he realizes why she had him continue and he stops the car in the middle of it, grandstands perfectly able to see it as he quickly unbuckles his harness and gets out to stand on the car, raising a fist in the air as he screams.

2026

@cixrosie @badbatch-simp24 @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @crystals-faith @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @benstormy @bibliosaurous @skepvids

[novaursa]

My request: Roose Bolton x Stark!reader

Following the events of the Red Wedding, the reader’s life is spared and she is taken by Roose as his unwilling bride.

Bride of the Dreadfort

Requests are closed!

- Summary: You survive the Red Wedding, but for a great cost.

- Pairing: stark!reader/Roose Bolton

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Your body aches, a dull and relentless reminder of what happened at the Twins. The memory of the Red Wedding is fresh, a nightmare you relive every time your eyes close. You remember the sound of swords unsheathing, the screams of your kin as they were cut down, and the sudden, sharp pain of the spear that drove through your side.

Now, you’re here. Somewhere deep within the Dreadfort, the cold stone walls press in around you like a prison. You lay on a bed of furs, though no amount of warmth can chase away the chill that seeps into your bones. The wound from the spear has been stitched, but the pain lingers, gnawing at you with every breath. You are not dead, though there were moments when you wished you were. Instead, you are alive and bound to the man who betrayed your family, the one who slaughtered your brother and mother without a second thought—Roose Bolton.

The door creaks open, and you instinctively tense. You don’t need to look to know it’s him. Roose moves like a shadow, his presence quiet yet oppressive. His pale eyes lock onto you as he enters the room, as cold and unfeeling as the stone walls that surround you.

“You’re healing well,” his voice is calm, measured, as if he’s discussing the weather. There’s no emotion in his words, no sign of remorse for what he’s done.

You don’t respond. You haven’t spoken a word to him since he took you from the Twins. What could you say? That he’s a monster? That you’ll never forgive him? He knows that already, and you know he doesn’t care.

Roose steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He watches you like a hunter watching prey, his eyes calculating, always assessing. His hand reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch makes your skin crawl, and you flinch away, but there’s no escape from him. Not here.

“You will be my wife,” he says, his voice so calm it’s almost soothing, though the words themselves send a shiver down your spine. “You will bear me a son, and we will unite the North under House Bolton.”

Your stomach churns at the thought, but you keep your face still, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear. You want to scream, to tell him you’ll never be his, that you’ll die before you give him what he wants, but the words remain trapped in your throat. What good would they do? Roose is not a man swayed by emotion or pleas.

Instead, you meet his gaze, defiance burning in your chest. “You’ll never have me,” you manage, your voice hoarse from disuse but steady.

Roose’s lips curl into a faint smile, though it never reaches his eyes. “You will come to understand, in time,” he says, stepping back as if the matter is already decided. “I don’t need your love. Only your obedience.”

The door closes behind him with a soft thud, leaving you alone in the suffocating silence. You let out a shaky breath, your hand clutching the fur beneath you as if it could anchor you to something real, something other than this nightmare. The walls of the Dreadfort feel like they’re closing in on you, the weight of your new reality pressing down on your chest.

But you are a Stark of Winterfell, and no matter what he does, no matter how much he tries to break you, you will not bow to him. You are stronger than that. You have to be—for your family, for the North, for the memory of everyone who died at the Twins. You won’t let Roose Bolton win. Not now, not ever.

The days pass in a blur of pain and quiet defiance. Roose visits you often, his presence always cold, always calculated. He speaks of the future, of his plans for the North, but you never respond. You won’t give him that. You hold onto your silence like a weapon, refusing to let him into your thoughts, into your soul.

But Roose is patient, and his patience is more terrifying than his cruelty. He doesn’t force you, doesn’t demand your affection or your submission. He waits, knowing that time is on his side, knowing that in the Dreadfort, the cold and the isolation will wear you down.

You wonder how long you can hold out. How long before the weight of your situation crushes you? But then you think of your father, of your mother, of Robb, and you remind yourself that you are a Stark. You were born in the cold, forged in the heart of winter. And winter never yields.

No matter what Roose Bolton does, no matter how many walls he builds around you, you will not break. Not for him. Not for anyone.

[my-religion-greek-myth]

Freedom far away O&P

I'll probably upload a fluff one-shot later because the previous one-shot and this part are pretty much of angry Agatha

Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio

Part A | Part B | Part C&D | Part E | Part F | Part G | Part H | Part I&J | Part K | Part L | Part M | Part N | Part O&P | Part Q | Part R | Epilogue

Warning: Depictions of miscarriage may be disturbing to some readers

The sun had dipped below the horizon when Agatha and Rio stepped through the gates of their realm. The surreal twilight of their world greeted them, the ever-present starlight scattering softly across the grass. A gentle breeze rustled the trees, the only sound accompanying their otherwise silent journey.

Neither spoke for a while as they walked toward the house, their steps slow but purposeful. The tension from the spymaster’s estate still clung to them like a cloak they couldn’t shake off just yet. Agatha’s hands twitched occasionally, faint traces of purple magic still sparking from her fingertips.

Rio glanced at her, her sharp features softened by concern. Without a word, she reached out and caught Agatha’s hand mid-movement, lacing their fingers together. Agatha startled slightly at the touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, her grip tightened almost faintly.

"You’re still burning," Rio murmured, her voice low and soothing. "Let it go, Agatha. It’s over."

Agatha exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing as she focused on the warmth of her wife's hand in hers. "It’s not over," she said quietly, her storming blue eyes fixed on the path ahead. "He’s gone, yes, but the damage he caused isn’t. F/N…" Her voice faltered, and she shook her head. "She almost died because of him."

Rio stopped walking, tugging gently on Agatha’s hand to make her stop too. "And she lived," Rio said firmly, her dark eyes locking with her wife’s. "Because of you. Because of us. She’s alive, and she’s here. That’s what matters."

Agatha’s jaw tightened, but the fire in her eyes dimmed slightly. "I just…" She hesitated, her fingers curling tighter around Rio’s. "I don’t want her to ever go through something like that again."

"And she won’t," Rio said, her voice steady with quiet conviction. She raised their joined hands, brushing a kiss against Agatha’s knuckles. "We’ll make sure of it."

Agatha’s lips quirked into a faint, reluctant smile. "You’re insufferably optimistic sometimes," she murmured, though there was no bite in her words.

Rio smirked, but this time, there was a bittersweet edge to her expression. "I have to be," she said softly, her dark eyes glinting with something deeper. "My nature… it only brings sadness and violence. If I’m not optimistic, love, what else do I have?"

Agatha softly looked at Rio, her fingers squeezing her wife’s hand. "You have me," she said simply. "And F/N. And everything we’re building together."

Rio’s smile returned, lighter this time, but her voice carried a quiet weight as she replied, "Then I’ll keep being optimistic—for both of you."

They resumed their walk, the glow of their house growing brighter with each step. As they approached, the sight of it brought a wave of bittersweet emotions. It was a sanctuary, yes, but also a reminder of how fragile peace could be.

When they entered, the warmth of the house embraced them, though their eyes immediately sought the room where F/N rested. Agatha lingered at the doorway, her gaze softening as she took in the sight of F/N lying still, her chest rising and falling steadily. The faint traces of pain etched into her features had eased, but her pale complexion still worried Agatha.

"She’s healing," Rio said gently, as though reading Agatha’s thoughts. She placed a hand on Agatha’s shoulder, supporting her. "Give it time. She’s stronger than you think."

Agatha nodded, though her eyes remained on F/N. "I know," she said softly. "But we need to do more than wait. This place…it’s not safe anymore. Not for her, not for us."

Rio leaned against the doorframe, her expression thoughtful. "You’re thinking about closing the gates," she said, not surprised but still contemplative. "All of them?"

"Yes," Agatha said firmly. "The stone gate, the black gate—even the green one temporarily. No one can follow us if they don’t know where we’ve gone. And this realm… it’s a sanctuary, but it’s also a cage. She deserves to see more than this."

Rio nodded slowly, her eyes drifting to F/N. "We’ll take her somewhere far," she said. "Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere, the three of us—and our children—can be free."

Agatha’s sharp gaze snapped to Rio, one eyebrow arching. "Our children? How many do you want?"

Rio grinned, unrepentant. "A lot."

Agatha rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "You’re impossible."

"And you love me for it," Rio quipped, echoing her earlier words with a wink.

Agatha shook her head, her smile lingering as she turned her attention back to F/N. "We’ll take her somewhere new," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "We’ll show her everything the world has to offer. Everything she’s been denied."

Rio stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Agatha’s waist and resting her head against her shoulder. "She’ll love it," she said, her voice warm with quiet certainty. "And so will we."

The two stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared determination settling over them. Outside, the stars continued to twinkle, a quiet reminder of the vast, endless possibilities waiting for them beyond the confines of this realm.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, hope flickered brightly between them.

---RAR---

Far from the house, deep within the untouched expanse of their realm, the ground roared as it trembled under the relentless force of Agatha’s fury. Large boulders cracked and shattered into fragments, their destruction accompanied by deafening thunderclaps of magic. The purple sparks radiating from Agatha’s hands hissed like angry serpents, the air around her crackling with energy. Each blast sent shockwaves through the grassy meadow, the shattered remnants of stone scattering before they reassembled—only to be obliterated again.

Agatha stood at the centre of the chaos, her chest heaving, her trembling features contorted in anger and despair. Her hair whipped around her face, caught in the invisible storm of her own making. The relentless destruction mirrored the storm within her, each explosion a futile attempt to rid herself of the unbearable ache she couldn’t escape.

From a distance, Rio approached silently, her dark eyes watching the spectacle with quiet intensity. She didn’t call out to Agatha. Instead, she walked to a nearby rock untouched by Agatha’s fury, brushing the debris off with her hand before sitting down. She rested her elbows on her knees, her gaze fixed on her wife’s trembling figure as she watched the boulders reshape and shatter over and over. The repetitive cycle continued as Agatha growled low in her throat, her hands sparking violently. She didn’t acknowledge Rio’s presence, nor did she stop her magic. The sound of the boulders breaking filled the air, punctuated by sharp cracks of thunder and the whistling wind stirred by her energy.

Finally, after long moments of silence, Rio spoke, her voice low but steady. “It won’t change anything, Agatha.”

Agatha’s body stiffened, her magic pausing for just a fraction of a second before she clenched her fists and unleashed another blast. The shattered fragments flew in all directions, scattering like her unspoken grief. She didn’t turn to face Rio; her eyes locked on the swirling dust and stone in front of her. “I don’t care,” she snapped, her voice brittle with anger. “I need to do something.”

“And this is helping?” Rio asked gently, tilting her head as she watched the fragments slowly reassemble themselves. “Destroying and fixing, over and over again? It’s not going to bring them back.”

Agatha spun on her heel, her blue eyes blazing with fury as she faced Rio. “Don’t you dare lecture me!” she snarled. “You—you can just move on, can’t you? Death doesn’t linger. You’ve seen this before, haven’t you? It’s just another life, another soul, another loss to you!”

Rio didn’t flinch under the weight of Agatha’s rage. Instead, she met her wife’s eyes calmly, her voice steady but laced with an ache mirrored Agatha’s. “You think I don’t feel this? That I don’t care?” She rose slowly, her posture unthreatening but resolute. “I loved them the moment I knew about them, Agatha. I loved the idea of them. Of us. Of a family.”

Agatha’s lips trembled, her anger faltering for a moment as the rawness of Rio’s words pierced through her defences. “Then how can you be so calm?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “How can you just sit there and act like this doesn’t tear you apart?”

Rio took a step closer, her dark eyes softening as she reached out and gently interlaced Agatha’s sparking hand in hers. The violent magic flickered and dimmed at her touch. “I’m not calm,” she said quietly. “I’m shattered, Agatha. But I’ve spent millenniums learning how to carry grief. It doesn’t mean it hurts any less—it just means I know it won’t go away. No matter how many boulders you shatter.”

Agatha’s shoulders slumped, the weight of Rio’s words pressing down on her. Her hand shook in Rio’s grasp, the sparks fading completely as tears filled her eyes. “I wanted them,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I wanted them so much, Rio. A child. A family. Something that was ours, something we created together. And now…” She choked on the words, her tears spilling over as her anger dissolved into raw, unfiltered sorrow.

Rio pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around Agatha’s trembling form. “I know,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “I know you did.”

Agatha clung to her, her fingers digging into Rio’s back as the sobs she’d been holding back finally broke free. The echoes of her cries filled the clearing, mingling with the stillness left in the wake of her magic.

For a long time, they stayed like that—Agatha weeping into Rio’s shoulder and Rio holding her as though anchoring her to the earth. The silence was broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and grass in the breeze.

When Agatha’s sobs finally subsided, she pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face lifting to meet Rio’s steady gaze. “What do we do now?” she whispered hoarsely.

Rio brushed a strand of hair from Agatha’s face, her fingers lingering against her cheek. “We move forward,” she said simply. “Together. You’re not alone in this.”

Agatha closed her eyes momentarily, leaning into Rio’s touch before pulling away. “She doesn’t need to know,” she said abruptly, her voice strained. “She doesn’t need to carry this with her.”

Rio’s brow furrowed. “You mean lie to her?”

“Yes,” Agatha snapped, her sharp blue eyes meeting Rio’s with fierce determination. “What good would it do to tell her? She’s been through enough. If she thinks there was no child, she won’t have to bear this pain.”

Rio’s jaw tightened, her arms crossing over her chest. “You know F/N doesn't like hiding the truth. She values the truth, Agatha. Even when it’s hard, even when it hurts—she’d want to know.”

“Why?” Agatha barked, her voice cracking. “Why does she need to carry this weight when she’s already endured so much? Why can’t we protect her from this one thing?”

Rio’s gaze softened momentarily at Agatha's pain, though her voice remained firm. “Because she’ll sense it, Agatha. She’ll know something is wrong, and it'll hurt her even more when she finds out we hid this from her. Do you really think she’d forgive us for lying?”

Agatha turned away, her hands sparking faintly as she clenched them into fists. “I don’t care,” she muttered. “I don’t want her to feel this pain.”

“And you think I do?” Rio’s voice rose slightly, uncharacteristically sharp. She stepped closer. “Do you think I want to see her break when we tell her? But the truth matters to her, Agatha. It’s part of who she is.”

Agatha’s shoulders slumped, her fiery resolve dimming as tears spilled down her face again. “She deserves happiness,” she whispered. “She deserves to feel safe and loved. Not…this.”

Rio moved closer, wrapping her arms around Agatha. “And she’ll have that,” she said softly, her voice steady. “Because she has us. But we can’t give her happiness by lying, Agatha. She trusts us. That trust is everything.”

Agatha hesitated, her trembling hands slowly falling to her sides as she leaned into Rio’s embrace. “I don’t know how to tell her,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I don’t know if I can.”

Rio pressed a gentle kiss to Agatha’s temple, her touch both comforting and steadying. “We’ll tell her together,” she said firmly. “And no matter how hard it is, we’ll face it. Together.”

Agatha nodded slowly, her tears soaking into Rio’s shoulder as she clung to her wife. “Together,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

For a long moment, they stood in the clearing, the shattered remains of the boulders surrounding them like fragments of their grief. The stars above shimmered faintly, a quiet reminder of the future they still had to build.

[absurdthirst]

Unexpectedly Reunited {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: No Outbreak AU, cheating, infidelity, surprise reunions, flirting, mentions of loss of a child, seemingly unrequited love, past crushes, abandonment, fingering, vaginal sex, rougher sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), cum eating, feelings, miscommunication, angst, degrading comments

Comments: Running away to the Cape, you find someone you had never expected to see again. Joel Miller. The blast from the past manages to heal your broken heart and you learn where life has taken him to bring him here.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

"You motherfucker!" You yell at your boyfriend who is currently buried inside of the co-worker he told you to not worry about despite you discovering him in your bed after you decided to surprise him with lunch since he works at home. He scrambles, pulling out of Sienna and you shake your head, "it's over. Get your shit out of my apartment. Today." You shriek and he covers himself up with the blanket you got from your mom for your birthday. 

"Baby please. Let me just-" He tries to explain but you cut him off. 

"Today, Jason. Today!" You yell, spinning on your heel and you rush out of your apartment with tears in your eyes. You sob as you get into your car, the lunch abandoned in the kitchen and you're no longer hungry. You sit there for hours, watching from afar as Jason moves his stuff from your place and you call your mom to tell her what happened. 

"I always told you he was a piece of shit, baby. He's an asshole. You're better off without him. Better to find this out now instead of later." She says softly. "Your aunt has that place on the Cape and she's in Italy for the next two weeks. Why don't you go there? Go relax and get out of town. Take time to get yourself together." She suggests.

The Cape, the idea has a certain appeal. Texas is currently hot, too hot, and you don’t want to be anywhere near your old group of friends and acquaintances. People that know Jason. People that might pity you, or secretly approve of him cheating on you. You imagine walking along the beach and letting the salty air seep into your skin. Maybe read a few books in a lounger and find some bar where you can just have a few drinks. Or, the house is nice, maybe you will just sit out on the deck and drink wine. “I guess. If I leave now, I could be there late tomorrow. Are you sure she won’t mind?” 

Your mom snorts through the line and you can imagine her face. “Of course not. Get your bag packed and get on the road. The key is in a little box on the garage door. Combination to open it is 9-26-13.” 

You sigh, watching as Jason closes the truck of the car with the last of his stuff. “Thanks mom, I’ll be on the road in twenty minutes. I don’t want to spend a night in that bed. I’m going to have to order another one.” 

When you arrive at your aunt’s house; you are exhausted and waste no time showering and getting into bed. The emotional drain of the past 36 hours is too much and you take a nap. When you wake up, it’s late and you have some of the snacks you brought with you while on the road. You’ll go food shopping tomorrow. You eventually fall back asleep, eager to explore tomorrow which comes far too soon when you’re woken up by drilling. You startle awake, checking the clock to see it’s 7:30 am and you whine, rubbing your eyes as you shuffle out of the bed, ready to reprimand the asshole who is drilling next door.

“Goddamn header.” Joel grunts out a curse, taking his hand off the hammer drill he had been using to wipe the sweat that is rolling into his eyes. “Send me some fuckin’ lumber that’s straight and I’ll fix the goddamn thing.” High up on the scaffolding, he’s cursing everyone from the lumber distributor to himself for taking this job. It’s been a shit show and it doesn’t seem like anything is going to go his way today.

You wrap your robe around yourself and huff as you stomp outside, raising your hand to cover your eyes from the early morning sun as you look up at the scaffolding. “Excuse me!” You yell and Joel continues drilling. “Excuse me!” You yell again and the drilling continues. “Fuck me!” You scream and the drilling stops. 

“That’s a mighty nice offer darlin’ but I barely know you.” Joel jokes as he removes his headset. 

“Why the hell are you drilling at this time in the morning?” You yell at him and he sets the drill down so he can climb down the scaffolding to talk to you. You wait, tapping your foot impatiently. 

“I was hired to do this job. I have a permit. I am starting early to avoid the rain this afternoon. Not that I have to explain myself to - wait…do I know you?” Joel asks, frowning as he removes his sunglasses to get a better look at you.

When it dawns on him who you are, his eyes widen and he murmurs your name. Never expecting to see you again. “Holy shit. What are you doing on the east coast?” He asks when he can speak again. The last time he had seen you was at his wedding. After that day, you had just….ghosted him, making him feel like your friendship had meant nothing.

As soon as he says your name you recognize him. “Joel? Joel Miller?” You gasp in shock. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the man that was your teenage crush. He was your next door neighbor and a lot older than you but you always had such a massive crush on him. You became friends after you got back from college to live with your parents again and that’s when you truly fell in love with him. Then he met Helen and you knew he would never feel the same way. Resigned to being his friend, you supported him but always secretly hoped he’d realize what was right in front of him. He didn’t and you ended up leaving town after watching him marry Helen on a beautiful summer day. He’s just as handsome. Shit, just as sexy. “I- this is my aunt’s house. You know the one who is a journalist.” You explain, “I- I came here to escape the Texas heat.” You lie, “what the hell are you doing here?” You ask, genuinely curious how a typical Texan like Joel is in the northeast.

Joel’s expression shutters, his eyes flattening slightly and he grunts. “Work.” He lies, having sensed you are lying too. You have puffy eyes, like you’ve been spending a lot of time crying, though you’re still just as beautiful as the last time he saw you. “Like I’m tryin’ to do now. But it’s a bitch and-“ he twists his neck towards the dark clouds rolling in from the west. “I want to get this sealed up before the rain starts.”

You nod, “I understand. Sorry for yelling. I just got in last night from Texas and I’m exhausted from driving nonstop. I didn’t expect the work to be done so early. I’m awake now, so carry on. I’m gonna get some coffee. Anywhere local you’d recommend?” You ask when his eyes meet yours once more and you are taken back by how handsome he is. Your memories did him no justice.

He feels bad for being rude, sighing slightly and wiping his forehead again. “Two blocks over there’s a dinner called The Fungus Among Us.” He tells you with a grin. “Vegan place, really into mushrooms, but they have great coffee. You just have to use their non-dairy creamers.”

The last person you expected to frequent a vegan cafe is Joel who used to enjoy platefuls of barbecue at the family cookouts back when you were younger and you chuckle, “you gone vegan on me?” You ask and he shakes his head, “no. Still love some ribs but I can appreciate good coffee.” You hum and he shrugs. “I’m gonna go get changed. You want me to bring you a coffee back?” You offer, wanting to make up for being rude.m

“I’m good.” He looks up towards the sky again. “Too fuckin’ hot for coffee up here.” He looks back down and smirks slightly. “Hurry up before you get wet. New England summer showers are no joke.”

You nod, “I’ll be fast. I, uh, I’ll see you around. It was great to see you again.” You wave awkwardly at him as he flips his sunglasses back down. You aren’t sure if he’s married or has kids or what his situation is so you don’t want to overstep by suggesting a reunion of some kind. 

“See you around, sweetheart.” Joel says and you offer him a smile, “bye Joel.” You say as you head back into your aunts house to get ready.

He won’t deny that he watches you when you re-emerge from the large cottage next door, or as you walk down the street. His eyes follow you as he takes what he tells himself is a five minute break. He was rude to you. And the Joel you had known wouldn’t have done that. He sighs, twisting around and trying to pop his aching back before he glances at the cloud again. They are rolling in fast and he only has about twenty minutes to finish up for the day. “Shit, Miller, get to work.”

You return back with your coffee - a good recommendation from Joel - and you’re disappointed when you don’t see him working. You feel the droplets of rain and decide to have your coffee then go grocery shopping after the rain has come and gone.

****

The drilling happens a little later around 8:45am the next morning and you look out of the bathroom window to see Joel working on the house. He lifts his shirt up to wipe his face and you can’t deny that your jaw drops. He’s still as sexy as you ever thought he was but then you remind yourself that he’s married and you shake your head to clear your lust. You decide to walk to the coffee shop again and head outside just as Joel jumps from the last section of scaffolding. “Sure I can’t get you a coffee?” You ask him, “I’m gonna head over there now.”

“I think I owe you a drink, since I was kind of an ass yesterday.” Joel admits, shuffling slightly and wiping his hands on a work rag before tossing it down. “I’ve got a few minutes, can walk over there with you, if you want?” He leaves it up to you, knowing that you might not want to do anything more than be nice.

You offer him a smile, “I’d like that.” You say and he nods, grabbing his keys and he yells out to his partner to keep an eye on things. You walk along with him and you’re quiet for a minute or so before you ask “so how long have you lived here?”

It takes Joel a moment to think back and he sighs. “Fuck.” He snorts. “Nearly ten years? Hard to think about but I’ve not even seen you in nearly twenty-five.” He wants to ask why you just stopped talking to him and coming around after he had married Helen. He hadn’t even been able to tell you that she had been a few months pregnant because his wife had wanted to keep it silent until after the first trimester. 

"Has it really been that long?" You shake your head, "I- wow. It feels like yesterday you were just getting married. Is Helen enjoying it here?" You ask, not noticing his lack of wedding band but you haven't really had a chance to look at his hands.

Joel snorts. “Helen left me when-” He breaks off and there’s that familiar ache in his chest at the thought of Sarah. “A year after we got married. Don’t know where she’s at, don’t really care, if I’m honest.” She had abandoned her child, something that he could never understand or accept. “What about you? Sure you’re married and happy, husband on a business trip and you decided to take a vacation?” 

It’s your turn to snort, “no. No. I, uh, I haven’t been married. I - I walked in on my boyfriend fucking his coworker in my apartment so I told him to pack his shit and be gone by the time I get back. Decided to take a break to avoid the pity looks and whispers around town.” You confess, glancing down the street as you adjust your purse on your shoulder.

“Wow. You must have been with a real douche bag.” Joel scoffs. “I can’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to cheat on you. There’s no fucking way he’s right in the head.” He shakes his head and huffs. “Idiot. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear that. But that bastard didn’t deserve you.”  

You offer him a self deprecating smile. “I appreciate you being pissed for me. I pretty much cried the entire way to the Cape. I- I thought he was gonna propose. I’m an idiot. I believed all his lies and I- I thought he was going to be the one.” You shake your head at your own stupidity. “Well, at least someone to spend the rest of my life with.”

“You’ll find someone better.” He predicts. “Someone who cheats on you isn’t worth your time. Or your tears.” Joel looks over at you and gives you a small smile. “Maybe you’ll find one of those romance story type guys here on the Cape.” 

You chuckle, “who is already married or has more skeletons in his closet than a haunted house. I think I’ll accept the reality that I’m destined to be alone and I think I’m okay with that. It’s not too bad. Getting to do whatever you want without answering to anyone. Romance is - it’s just something they sell to give people hope.” You confess with a sigh, “I’ll stick to reading about it in novels.” You chuckle softly and turn into the coffee shop, about to open the door but Joel does a little jog to open it before you can. “Don’t lose hope. You never know who’s gonna appear.” He says and you bite your lip as you brush past him, knowing he’s the man you’ve always envisioned when you read those romance novels.

The inside of the cafe is trendy, quirky. It seems like a place where Joel would look completely out of place with his buttoned up shirt and jeans, heavy boots. No one has given him shit about it and been friendly, even though he stays away from a lot of their menu. “Have you tried the muffins? They are pretty good.” 

You shake your head, “no. I had the chia pudding the other day.” You giggle when he wrinkles his nose. “The blueberry muffin sounds good.” You hum, crossing your arms, “and a latte. You seem like a black coffee kind of guy.”

“Only way to drink coffee.” Joel agrees with a smirk. He guides you to a table and pulls out a chair for you. “I know you probably like all those syrups and half pump venti shits.” He rolls his eyes, although he likes the way you sound when you snicker. 

“I’m a vanilla girl.” You reveal and Joel raises his eyebrows playfully. “For my coffee order.” You clarify with a smirk and he walks over to the counter to order your drinks and he returns with a blueberry muffin for you. “You didn’t have to pay.” You shake your head and he shrugs, “to make up for the early morning wake up calls.” He explains and You offer him a soft smile, reaching out to touch his hand, “thank you. I- I’ve missed you, you know?”

“You missed me so much you just….disappeared?” Joel asks, wanting to know why. “I tried calling you a couple of times. Wanted you to come out with me and Helen to dinner. You just didn’t ever call me back.” 

You sigh, withdrawing your hand. “I…it was complicated.” You glance around the coffee shop, feeling his eyes burn into you. “I couldn’t stay after you…I had to get out of town and figure out what I wanted. I’m sorry I disappeared but it was for the best. You had a new life…a wife. You didn’t need me hanging around.”

It’s not an answer that satisfies him, but from the set of your jaw, you won’t give him a proper explanation. “I- you missed a lot, obviously. I had wanted to tell you that Helen was pregnant. We weren’t announcing it before the ceremony.”

You swallow harshly, not realizing that he’s a father. “Did Helen…you have a - wow. That’s - I didn’t know. No one told me - my parents didn’t tell me anything. I asked them not to.” You finish with a murmur, shifting to sit back and look at Joel just as they call his name to get the coffees.

Joel stands up, happy to go get the drinks and muffins so he doesn’t have to show how that idea upsets him. Why does he care after twenty-five years? He shouldn’t. Bringing the tray over to the table, he sets it down and doles out the items quietly.

You bite your lip as you look at him, he’s broader than ever. He was gorgeous when he was younger and he’s still gorgeous with the grays scattered in his hair. “Is your kid in the Cape or elsewhere?” You ask him, wanting to change the subject.

Joel frowns slightly, looking down at his coffee. “No.” He tells you. “She- she died. Twelve years ago. It’s why I moved here. I couldn’t live in Texas anymore.”

Your brow furrows as you gasp softly. “Oh. Oh Joel. I’m so sorry. I- shit. Me and my big mouth. I’m so sorry. Oh God. That - that’s terrible.” You choke, squeezing the coffee cup in your hand as you see the devastation in his eyes.

“It was a long time ago.” The wound is still fresh and if it were anyone else, he wouldn’t even bring it up. But you had never met Sarah, you didn’t know how wonderful she was.

“I’m sorry Joel. I know that doesn’t mean shit when you endure that kind of pain but…I really am sorry.” You say and reach out to squeeze his hand again. “I understand why you left to come here.” You tell him and his dark eyes meet yours, clouded over with the pain of losing a child. “Do you…do you maybe want to come over for dinner sometime? Catch up properly? I meant what I said. I’ve missed you.”

His immediate response is to tell you no. That it wasn’t necessary, but he can’t get the words out. “Sure.” He figures it’s a nicety. That you are saying that and then you’ll politely avoid him.

You sip your coffee as he goes quiet. Joel was never one for small talk. “So have you got a wife or girlfriend here?” You ask after a few moments, wondering if that’s why he was hesitant to accept an offer to catch up over dinner.

“No, nothing like that.” He shakes his head, frowning slightly when he remembers Tess. He should have been better to her, but he ran out of time. “Not anymore,” he adds, looking back down at his cup. “So how long are you here?”

"Two weeks. Figured that was enough time for the dust to settle and for that asshole to get his shit out of my apartment." You sigh, looking down at the table before you flick your eyes up to meet his. "I really am sorry we lost touch. All I can say is it's complicated and too much time has passed to dig into it all again."

“Yeah.” Joel just shrugs. “It’s in the past.” He knows he’s changed a lot from the man you used to know. He’s harder, his heart is cold and most times people are wary of him. “People change, move on, whatever.”

You frown at his pessimism and you know he’s changed but he always used to be so playful and fun. Life has been hard for both of you, especially Joel. You finish your muffin and soon you’re walking back to your aunt’s house. “You wanna come for dinner tomorrow?” You offer, not wanting to end this interaction on a spur note.

“Sure.” He finds himself agreeing, not minding your company and he would love a meal he didn’t cook for himself. Or Ellie cooked. “Oh- uh, I should have told you. Can someone come with me?” He asks, not sure if you’d want a kid around.

You are surprised but don't ask who, wondering if he has a friend or something. "Uh, sure. Yeah. That's fine. Any allergies or things they don't like?" You ask, wanting to be sure before you plan what you want to cook.

“Nahhhh.” Joel snorts, shaking his head at the crazy things that Ellie has eaten. “She’ll eat anything. Nearly indestructible stomach, I swear.”

You are curious, barely able to swallow down the inquiries but you manage and offer him a smile, "sounds good. Wanna say seven?" You ask and he nods. You stand on your aunt's driveway and Joel rubs the back of his neck. "I'll see you tomorrow." He says and you rock on your heels, crossing your arms. "See you tomorrow, Joel." You smile and watch for a second as he spins on his heel and makes his way back to the neighbor's house.

****

“So whoooo are we having dinner with?” Joel rolls his eyes and ramps down the urge to bite back with something sarcastic. That would only make the girl more curious about who you are. 

“She’s an old friend.” Joel explains, “she’s in town and I thought I might be good to not have to put up with your shit cooking for a night.” He reaches over and pulls on her ponytail, grinning when she scowls and slaps his hand away. 

“Hey man, not my fault your cooking tastes like shit. You taught me.”

You wipe down your apron as you watch the water boil for the pasta. The doorbell rings and you take the apron off, making your way over to the door to open it to greet Joel and his mystery guest. You had purposefully avoided looking out of the windows this morning when Joel was working. You are shocked when you see a teenager with Joel, having convinced yourself it was another woman and he was trying to hint at it but you didn't pick it up.

“Woah. She’s a babe!” Ellie’s eyes widen and she sends Joel a smirk. “No wonder you didn’t talk about her. You gotta date, old man? Why the hell are you bringing me with you?” 

Joel rolls his eyes and reaches up to smack the back of Ellie’s head. “Behave.” He warns her before apologizing to you. “Sorry. She’s feral. Not a goddamn manner in her body.”

You fluster at the girl's compliment and you look at Joel with a chuckle, "don't worry. I've had worse with my cousins and their kids." You promise and step aside so that he and the kid can enter. You tell her your name as she walks past you and she offers you a grin and tells you her name is Ellie. "Hope you like chicken parm." You hum as you shut the door behind you.

“I love anything that he didn’t cook.” She hooks her thumb over at Joel and smirks. “He thinks heating Chef Boy-r-dee is a good meal.” She tells you, knowing that Joel is shuffling in embarrassment and not caring a lick. She likes to bust his balls.

You chuckle, remembering how hopeless Joel was in the kitchen. He even called you up one night to ask you to rescue the meal he was trying to cook Helen for a date night. It had been hard to help but you would’ve done anything for him back then. Still would if you’re honest. You ask Ellie what she wants to drink when they enter the open plan kitchen. “Damnnn. This is a nice place you got here.” Ellie says and you shake your head, “it’s my aunt’s. I live in Texas.” You explain and Ellie glances at Joel. 

“Texas, huh?” She says, raising her eyebrows and Joel ignores her. 

“Yeah. Joel and I used to be neighbors.” You explain a little more.

“So you can tell me what he used to be like?” She asks conspiratorially. “Before he became so boring.”

You lean in conspiratorially towards Ellie. “He’s always been boring.” You whisper playfully and Joel rolls his eyes. 

Ellie nods, “makes sense.” You chuckle and Joel huffs, biting his lip to smother his smirk. 

“Joel has always been a good guy. Grumpy, but he has always done the right thing.” You say, “and he tries to let everyone think he’s a grumpy bastard but he’s actually got a good sense of humor.” You say and Ellie shakes her head, “he doesn’t laugh at my jokes!” She whines and you smirk, “oh he’s laughing. Just on the inside.”

“No, I’m not.” Joel grumps and huffs, trying to hide a smirk. He likes to bust on Ellie as much as she busts on him, just in different ways. If he tries to be too soft with the girl, she will shut down. “Hope it wasn’t too much trouble for dinner. We would have been good with pizza.”

You shake your head, “it’s nice to cook. I am usually so busy with work and my ex…he was a vegan which made it almost impossible to cook what I know but I love cooking. I’ve missed it. Hopefully it’s good.” You say and turn back to the stove to put the pasta on to cook. “You want a soda?” You ask Ellie, knowing Joel will want a beer. The teenager nods and you hand her a soda before handing Joel a bottle of beer. “Go sit at the table. Dinner will be right up.” You say as you set your glass of wine down.

“Ellie and I will clean up.” Joel offers. He might suck in the kitchen, but he knows how to clean up a mess and it wouldn’t be fair to expect you to wait on them. “Sound good?”

“You’re my guests.” You protest but Joel shakes his head, “we can do the dishes.” You sigh, knowing you’re best to not argue, and turn back to the stove. It doesn’t take long for you to set the serving dishes on the table. “Dig in.” You order and Ellie groans, “shit. That looks good.” 

“Ellie.” Joel warns softly and you chuckle, “hopefully it tastes good.”

“I'm sure it’s great.” Joel tells you with a quick smile as he cuts into the chicken cutlet. “Thank you, it’s nice to have a good meal.” He admits. Often times it was something from a box or fast food for them. “And did you remember what beer I drink? Or was it a lucky guess?”

You bite your lip and fluster slightly, “I, uh, I remembered.” You confess, having remembered every detail about the man opposite you. Your heart is still thumping when his dark eyes meet yours. 

Neither of you notice the way Ellie smirks as she cuts into her chicken. “This is fucking awesome. You’re a great cook. Right, Joel?” Ellie hints at her foster dad.

"Huh?" He's been trying not to make it obvious that he's having a moment with the chicken farm. Looking up, he sees that he's being asked a question. "Yeah, oh yeah, it's delicious." He praises. "I don't know if I've had chicken parm this good in forever." He promises.

Your stomach twists with their praise, pleased they are enjoying it and you dig in yourself, hungry after cooking for most of the afternoon. “So Ellie is your daughter?” You ask Joel and Ellie snorts, “he wishes. I’m just his foster kid. He and my mom were friends and when he found out I was in home after home, he took me in.” Ellie says and you smile, “always knew you were a softie.” You tease and Joel grunts his response.

The truth was more complicated and filled in infinitely more guilt. Joel had gone down a dark path after Sarah had died. He was Ellie's mother's dealer. Giving her the drugs even though she was using more and more and that it could kill her. He had told himself that it wasn't his problem until he had learned about Ellie. He had started avoiding the woman's calls until he learned she had died of an overdose. No other family other than Ellie, it had felt like it was his fault so he had done the work to become the kid's guardian.

You can sense there's more but you don't push. The three of you have small talk, Ellie mainly asking questions about what Joel was like when you knew him back in the day and you explain that you were good friends until he got married and you decided to leave town. "You left? And didn't keep in touch?" Ellie asks with a frown and you tap your fingers on the table, "it was complicated."

Joel snorts and doubts that, but he doesn't voice it. You keep saying it's complicated, but you won't even say more than that to him. Ellie rolls her eyes and sighs. "Just say you love him already. There. Done." She turns to Joel and pitches her voice up slightly. "Joel, I was in love with you so I couldn't stand to see you married." She says, pretending to be you before she looks back over at you with a shake of her head. "Now. Was that hard?"

Your jaw drops slightly as the teenager calls you out and reveals the reason you left within an hour of meeting you. "I, uh, it - um -" You stammer and Joel shakes his head. 

"Ellie. Don't be rude." He reprimands her and she waves her hand towards you, "I'm right, aren't I?" She asks and you stand up, grabbing your plate. 

"I have dessert. You like chocolate cake?" You ask and grab the teenager's plate.

“Stop being a little shit.” Joel hisses the moment you disappear out of sight. “She doesn’t love me. She’s just getting over a break up.” Ellie’s grin falls and she looks upset over her comments. “And you have to open your big mouth.”

You sigh as you cut into the cake you bought earlier and serve three plates. You carry them back over to the table on the tray and Ellie’s eyes widen as she takes it in. “Holy shit, that looks delicious.” She says and you chuckle, “I didn’t make this. I’m not a good baker.” You confess as you sit back down.

“I doubt that.” Joel tells you. “I’m sure you are a good baker, but Ellie never turns down cake.”

“I never do either.” You wink at Ellie, wanting to lighten the atmosphere and you dig into the cake. After the cake is eaten, Ellie tells you about her school and how she wants to learn to play the guitar. “Joel used to play guitar.” You reveal, remembering how you used to hear him practicing in his bedroom.

“You never told me that.” Ellie sounds downright offended that he had never told her about his musical proclivity. 

“Haven’t told you a lot.” He grunts, smirking slightly when she pouts at him. 

“But you can teach me, and then I won’t have to pay someone.” 

He chuckles and raises a brow at his foster kid. “I’ll take payment in the form of chores being done on time and completely.”

You chuckle and realize that Joel is just as soft as you remember him but he’s covered by a hard exterior…like a piece of candy. Sweet but sour. “Deal.” Ellie says despite knowing she will slack a little bit she hopes Joel will at least teach her the basics. “So are you gonna be seeing Joel again?” Ellie probes and you shrug, “well, he’s working next door so I think it’s inevitable.”

Joel rolls his eyes at the scheming tone of the girl’s voice. “Maybe I should ask you when you are going to see Vanessa again.” He huffs with a small smirk. “You seemed to be really into hanging out with her.”

You lean in a little closer with a smile, “who’s Vanessa?” You ask and Ellie blushes, “she’s, uh, she’s this girl from math and she - she’s really pretty.” Ellie murmurs and you reach out to touch her arm, “then maybe you should tell her that.” You suggest and Ellie rears back and shakes her head. “Oh no. No. I, uh, I don’t know if she likes me.” Ellie confesses and you say, “well, you’ll never know unless you ask.” You suggest softly and Ellie bites her lip until her expression hardens a little, “I could say the same thing to you guys.” She says, looking between you and Joel. 

You shake your head, “we are friends. Have always been friends.” You say and don’t notice Joel frown slightly. “Anyway, I, uh, I’m sure you have an early start. Do you want to take the rest of the cake home? I won’t eat all of that.”

“I know the kid will want it.” He won’t admit that he might go to the kitchen in the middle of the night to sneak a piece. “Come on.” He motions towards Ellie. “Let’s get in there and clean up. Show our appreciation for the good meal.”

Ellie, for once, doesn’t groan about doing dishes and you already have most of it in the dishwasher so it’s only the serving plates and plates you ate off of. “It’s okay.” You try to argue but Joel and Ellie already have a well rehearsed wash and dry system. You stand there with your glass of wine and admire Joel.

You had obviously washed as you cooked, so there weren’t as many dishes as when Joel decides he’s gonna actually cook. Once the last one is washed and handed off to Ellie to dry, Joel rinses the rag and starts to wipe down your counters. “Tell you what?” He jokes. “You feed us like that and we’ll do all the dishes every time. Might even do your laundry too.”

You chuckle and hold your hand out towards Joel, “that’s a deal, Miller.” You joke and he squeezes your hand, sending electricity up your arm at his touch and your heart thumps. You stare at him for a moment until Ellie clears her throat and looks between you with a shit eating grin until Joel lets go of your hand. They finish washing up and you hand them the box of cake to take with them when you escort them out of your house “it was great to meet you, Ellie.”

"It was pretty cool to meet you too." Ellie smirks. "I think I'll probably see a lot more of you too." She predicts before shooting out the door. "Thanks for the food!" She shouts as she waves the cake box over her head.

You chuckle when Joel rolls his eyes, “she’s a handful.” He says and you reach up to squeeze his shoulder, “she’s a good kid. And you’re a good man for taking her in.” You say and he leans in to softly kiss your cheek. 

“Thanks for dinner, sweetheart. See you around.” He winks at you and you fluster, nodding before you shut the door. Your heart is fluttering, the ghost of his kiss on your cheek and you know that your love for him has never gone away, it’s just been concealed. 

**** 

The next morning, you’re woken up by Joel and his crew again and you sigh, getting ready for the day. When you open the curtains, your jaw drops as you come face to face with Joel working , his shirt looped into his jeans. “Shit.” You hiss, your stomach twisting with arousal as you watch his shoulder muscles move.

Joel sees the curtains opening on the bedroom you are obviously using in your aunt’s house. He looks back down at the board he was nailing into place and smirks. It was hot as hell today and that might have prompted him to take his shirt off. All the while, telling himself that Ellie’s prodding about how much you two obviously liked each other was a bunch of BS. You had been friends. He’s sure he had taken his shirt off around you at some point, so why shouldn’t he be comfortable.

Your mouth is dry as you try to discreetly watch. You hadn’t seen Joel without his shirt off and the muscles moving has you wanting to get back into bed and imagine Joel in it with you. Instead, you force yourself to get ready for the day and brew some coffee. The doorbell rings around mid morning and you brush yourself down as you move to open the door. “Joel. What’s up?” You ask, his shirt still off, he’s covered in some kind of grease, and you swallow harshly. “I hate to ask this but do you think I could use your shower? I got grease all over me from trying to fix my tool. Can I - I’ll be quick.” He asks and you nod, “of course. It’s upstairs to the left.” You say, “I can run your stuff through the washer if you want?” You offer.

“Thanks.” He shoots you a grin. “I appreciate it. This job has been nothing but a pain in my ass, but at least the view is nice.” He tells you, aware that he’s flirting, but he can’t help himself. He’s been thinking about you all day. Wondering what you’ve been doing.

You bite your lip as he grins at you and you aren’t sure if he’s flirting or not. You watch him as he carefully makes his way upstairs after taking off his boots at the door and you try to busy yourself by making some iced tea for when he’s done showering. Logically, you know he doesn’t have a spare set of clothes yet you’re still surprised when he appears with a towel wrapped around his waist and you swear your heart stops. Fuck, he looks gorgeous. You want to lean in and lick the drops of water speeding down his chest and stomach to be absorbed by the towel.

Joel shuffles slightly. “Sorry. I didn’t think about the fact I had nothing to put on.” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I- I swiped some of your deodorant.” He chuckles awkwardly. “Probably the best I’ve smelled all day.”

“That - That’s okay.” You nod, torn between stepping forward to rip the towel from his body and running to your room to disappear. “I, uh, I made some iced tea if you want some.” Joel nods and you pour him a glass. “I’ll put your things in the washer.” You hold your arms out and take the dirty clothes, quick to walk into the laundry room to put his clothes on to wash.

He hadn’t missed the way your breaking hitched, and he reasons that Ellie was right. You want him. Instead of drinking the tea, he puts it down and quietly follows behind you. Crowding in behind you as you close the lid to start it and smirks when you gasp as you turn around. “Sorry, realized I forgot to give you everything.” He rasps out, reaching for his towel. “Can’t forget that.”

Your eyes widen and you bite your lip to stop the whimper escaping. Joel is naked. In your aunt’s laundry room. You spin around and place the towel in the washer before pressing the button to start it. His hands find your waist and he pushes up against you, “Joel.” You whimper, “I- oh God.” You gasp when he kisses your neck. 

“I want you.” He confesses, “you want me, darlin’?” He asks and your knees would buckle if he didn’t have you pressed up against the washer. 

“I need you. I’ve wanted you since I met you.” You confess breathlessly.

His hardening cock twitches against your ass and he groans. “That is why you left.” He huffs. “Fuck, I wish I had known.” He squeezes your hips and then slides his hands around so he can unbutton your jeans. “I would have taken you to bed before I met Helen. Always thought you were a pretty thing. Never seemed like you wanted more with me, so I didn’t push.”

You turn your head to kiss his jaw. “I thought you thought of me as the dumb kid next door. Never saw me as the woman I became. I thought you just saw me as a friend. When you told me you were engaged to Helen - I - I couldn’t stick around and watch you be a family.” You confess as he pulls the zipper down and you gasp when he shoves your jeans down your thighs, his hand quickly pushing into your panties to rub your clit. “Joel.” You moan, reaching up to turn his head so you can press your lips against his.

He knows that this will change everything but he’s tired of being alone. Tired of the regrets he has and you have always been one of them. His work rough fingers press and rub your clit while his other hand slides under your shirt and pushes your bra up so he can fondle your tits. “Never thought you were a girl. You aren’t that much younger than me. Hated how much I wanted you. How much I thought about you.”

You gasp when he rubs your clit just right and you grind your hips back against his aching cock. “God. I- I thought about you all the time.” You confess and reach behind you to grip his cock in your hand. “I want you, Joel.” You whimper, needing to feel him inside of you after so many years of wondering what he would feel like.

“Then you’ll get me.” Joel promises. “Right after you cum on my fingers.” He twists his wrist so he can push two thick fingers inside you and rub your clit with his thumb. Groaning and twitching in your hand when your walls squeeze his fingers tight. “I’ll fuck your little pussy right. Make you forget all about that douche bag in Texas. Show you how a man should be treating you.”

His words send a whine up your throat and you squeeze his cock in your grip as his fingers stretch you out. “Oh God. Jo- Joel.” You gasp when his thumb presses harder against your clit. It’s more than you’ve felt in years while having sex and you are grateful for his hand squeezing your breast to keep you upright and pressed against the washer. “Shit. That - it’s so good.” You pant, knowing that Jason never made you feel like this. He never used to finger you until you came, just until you were wet. You’re a little embarrassed when you look back on it later to say that you came astonishingly quick, clamping down on his digits with a moan of his name.

“Good girl.” Joel moans when he feels your body tense and shake. “Fuck, your such a good girl for me. Bet you taste delicious, don’t cha?” He groans, the slickness coating his fingers makes it easier to work you through your orgasm until he feels your knees buckle and you collapse against the washing machine. “Fuck. You needed that, didn’t you. Still want me to fuck you or do you need a cigarette?” He jokes. He’s throbbing in your hand, but if you don’t want to go any farther, he won’t push. He doesn’t want you to regret it or feel like he’s taking advantage of your broken heart.

You squeeze his cock again, "don't you dare stop, Miller. I- I've wanted you for forever. I need you inside of me." You plead breathlessly, pussy still fluttering around his fingers, "please." You add pathetically, needing this even if it's one time.

“I’m so fuckin’ glad you said that.” Joel confesses as he pulls his soaked fingers out of you. “Otherwise I was gonna need to jerk off right now.” He kisses your neck and pushes your feet apart with his own to spread you out. “It’s gonna be quick.” He warns. “Been a long fuckin’ time for me.”

"I don't care. You can cum inside of me." You promise, bracing yourself on the vibrating washer as he positions himself at your entrance and starts to push inside of you. You whine when his cock slips inside of you, already stretching you out. "Fuck. You are so big." You moan, knowing that you've never had anyone this thick inside of you.

​​Joel groans your name roughly, rolling his hips until they are pressed against your ass and both hands are filled with your tits. “So goddamn tight.” He rasps in your ear, twitching when you clench around him. “Better than my dreams, better than I could have ever imagined. So tight around my dick.”

You reach behind you to tangle your fingers in his damp hair. He starts to move inside of you, a whine escaping your lips as the friction is delicious, and you rest your cheek on the washer. “Soooo gooood.” Your voice vibrates too and Joel chuckles darkly, making you clench around him again.

He moves his hands down to grip your waist, holding tight to you as he braces his legs. Starting to rock into you faster and harder to make your body slam against the machine you are leaning against. “Fuck baby, you’re goddamn perfect.” He grunts out, gritting his teeth. “Touch your pretty little clit while I fuck the shit out of you.”

You cry out in pleasure, your hand shaking as you push it between you and the machine to rub your clit. “Fuck Joel. Joel. Oh shit.” You practically sob and his fingers dig into your flesh, likely leaving bruises you’ll cherish. “Harder.” You demand, wanting to feel him for days after he leaves you.

He growls, deep in his chest and his pace increases. Slamming into you harsh enough that he rocks the machine. Loving how you take him and beg for more, how tight your cunt gets when you spasm around him. “Gonna cum.” He warns, feeling his body starting to tense. “Need you to cum, sweet girl.”

You rub your clit a little faster, wanting to cum before he does and his grunts echo in the laundry room, getting deeper and faster along with his thrusts until you fall apart. A cry rips from your mouth as you clamp down on him, practically shaking against the vibrating machine as you climax around the man you’ve wanted for so long.

As soon as you clench down around him, Joel is lost. The strangled groan pushes out of his throat as he buries his cock just as deep as he can. Painting your walls with hot spurts of his seed while he grinds into you and whimpers your name. Overwhelmed by how perfect you feel around him.

You pant, resting against the washer as Joel twitches inside of you, his lips kissing along the back of your neck. You are speechless. No one has ever fucked you like that. Your legs feel like jello and you know you'd collapse if it wasn't for him keeping you pressed against the machine.

Panting, Joel presses against your back, kissing along your neck as he tries to catch his breath. He’s out of practice, but the way your legs still shake makes him think he did it right. “Fuck.” He chuckles. “We shoulda done that years ago.”

You chuckle softly, "yes but you were married." You snort and Joel caresses your side. "I think I'm gonna need a nap after that." You confess and he smirks against your skin, reluctantly pulling out of you.

“Well, I can’t go back to work with no clothes on.” He reminds you with another chuckle. “Why don’t we take that nap?” He’s already told his crew what to do and he doesn’t want to leave you right now. Caressing your back, he watches his cum start to well up at your little hole, trying to push out.

You smile, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra after he steps back from you and you finally feel like you can stand up. You toss your bra and shirt into the laundry basket along with the rest of your clothes after using your panties to wipe his cum from between your legs. “I need to pee and then we can nap.” You say, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You wanna head upstairs while I pee?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Joel smirks slightly when you wobble as you walk to the hall bathroom and he strides into the kitchen to grab you a bottle of water before heading upstairs to the bedroom you are using. Feeling great and hoping that you enjoyed yourself, he’s gonna have to ask you when you come up.

You struggle to get upstairs but you do it, finding Joel sitting on the edge of the bed, still naked and you admire him for a second. The sun coming through the curtains highlights the gray in his locks and you find yourself falling for him all over again. You shift to lay down on the bed, closing your eyes, “you’ve worn me out, Miller.” You joke playfully.

“You’re worn out?” It’s fucking ridiculous how he wants to touch you again, even though he knows it will be at least half an hour, maybe more before he could get it up again. “And here I was thinking about eating your pussy.” He flips back on the bed beside you. “Guess that’s out.”

You open one eye, “now I didn’t say I was that worn out.” You tease, shifting onto your side and opening both eyes to look at him. “I would happily cum on your tongue if you want to do that.” You murmur, reaching out to caress his chest.

“Figure I owe you that much.” He grunts. “Fucked you over a washing machine. Not exactly the classiest first time.” He shoots you a grin. “Shoulda been in the bed of my truck.” He leans in and presses his lips to your as he rolls you onto your back and covers you with his body. “Wanna find out how you taste. Used to think about it when I had my dick in my hand.”

​​You reach up to caress his shoulders and back, “the bed of your truck. The stars above while the radio plays. That might’ve been something I dreamed about a lot.” You confess as he kisses along your neck. “I want to suck your cock too. Imagined it so many times. How you’d look, how you’d sound.”

“Fuck.” He groans, imagining it. “You’d look so fucking pretty like that.” He agrees. “But right now, there’s no way I’m gonna get hard, baby. I’m old.”

You scoff, “you’re not old. You just need some time.” You murmur, caressing his back as he slides his hand down your side. “We have time.” You promise softly despite knowing you are on borrowed time in your aunt’s house. “Now…you mentioned something about eating me out?”

He laughs as his tongue slides between your breasts, looking up at you with a grin that makes him feel younger, lighter. “I was telling you that you were going to scream my name.” He boasts, kissing across your belly as he shuffles down the bed to move between your thighs.

You grin as you watch him until he kisses your inner thigh and your mouth falls open with a moan. “Joel.” You sigh when he kisses along the sensitive skin until you are moaning his name as his tongue slides through your folds. “Fuck.” You tilt your head back, sitting up on your elbows.

He hums, knowing you are watching him but his eyes are closed as he tastes you. Enjoying the musky, tangy taste, even mixed with his own cum. Using his hands to push your thighs apart more, he flicks his tongue over your clit before sliding down and pushing his tongue inside you.

You gasp in delight as his tongue curls deep and you shift your weight onto one elbow so you can reach out and tangle your fingers in his hair. "So good baby. So good." You coo, rocking your hips up slightly to push his tongue deeper.

Joel groans into your cunt as he tongue fucks you enthusiastically. Loving your responsiveness and how you moan his name. His fingers dig into your hips, dragging you closer as he feasts voraciously without even wanting to pull away to swallow, his spit and your juices sliding down to soak the bed under you.

"Oh God." You pant, chest heaving and you let go of his hair to squeeze your breast, pinching the nipple while his nose presses against your clit. "That - ohhh just like that." You cry as his tongue curls just right with his nose pressed against your bundle of nerves.

He hums, rubbing his broad nose against your clit to give you more. Desperate to hear you cum again and to feel you soak his face. He feels so fucking alive right now between your thighs.

"Shit. I'm - you're gonna make me cum, Joel." You pant, thighs clamping around his face as he sends you over the edge. "Fuck!" You squeal as you soak his face, almost suffocating him with your thighs as your stomach clenches with your orgasm.

Joel groans, his softening cock starting to twitch and harden. Loving how wet you are getting and how much you are soaking him. Working you through it, his eyes are fixed on your face while you moan and cry out for him.

You collapse back onto the bed, gasping to catch your breath and you swear your heart has stopped from how hard you came. It’s more than anything you felt with Jason. It’s all consuming. “So good.” You finally murmur, loosening your grip on his face as your legs come down to lay flat on the bed when he rests his chin on your mound.

He smirks, looking at your blissed out face. “Good to know that it was good.” He strokes your thigh and your hip with his hands. “Now we can nap.” He teases, winking playfully.

You shift onto your side after he snakes from between your legs to flop down on the bed beside you. “You don’t want me to-?” You ask, noticing his semi. 

“Nap first then maybe you can ride me.” He says, closing his eyes and you nod, shifting to curl into his side, watching him for several moments until you eventually drift off to sleep. 

**** 

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep but you wake up to Joel snoring. You chuckle softly, knowing he would never admit to snoring, and you watch him for a moment, unable to believe you’re here with him. Your gaze slides down his body to his hard cock resting on his belly and you grin, carefully shifting to be able to kneel over his body. You gently grip his cock and lean down to take the head into your mouth, wanting to surprise him when he wakes up.

Joel grunts, the wet heat and suction around his cock pulling him out of the nap he had been enjoying. Confused for a moment before the last few hours come rushing back to him and he groans out your name. Reaching down to cup the back of your head as his eyes open. Seeing you looking up at him with a smirk in your eyes.

You take him deeper, gripping the base of his cock as you widen your jaw and choke for a second. You haven’t sucked a cock like Joel’s before and it takes you a few tries to get him down your throat without gagging.

“Good girl, fuck, watch you take that.” He marvels. Reaching around to caress your jaw and feeling the way that your jaw unhinges. “Couldn’t wait, so eager for it that you had to wake me up?” He teases.

You moan around his cock, closing your eyes as you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down his length and you pull back after a moment, working his cock with your hand. You twist your wrist and dribble some more spit onto his cock. “I couldn’t resist.” You confess, pumping him as you lean in to suck on the head, pressing your tongue against his frenulum.

“Shit.” Joel hisses, his toes curling in pleasure and his thighs tensing as his body responds to your tongue. “Cock hungry.” He grunts. “You gonna swallow? Or are you gonna tease me and not let me cum in your mouth?”

You pull back again, pumping him a little faster. “You wanna cum down my throat or do you want me to ride you? Your choice, handsome.” You coo, “I can do whatever you want. Just want you to feel good.” You promise, taking him back into your mouth.

“Fuck.” It’s such a tantalizing choice but he knows he lasts longer the second time around and then he’ll be done. It would make your jaw ache and he doesn’t want that. “Ride me, baby.” He groans. “Want to see you bounce on my cock.”

You don't argue despite wanting to watch him as he cums down your throat. You let his cock drop from your mouth and you shift to straddle his thighs, shuffling closer until you can wrap your fingers around his slick cock and position him. You sink down onto him with your eyes fixed on his, that dark gaze sends a shiver down your spine as he stretches you out. "God, Joel." You whine softly, placing your palms on his chest.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” Joel goans out, his fingers digging into the soft flesh at your hips while you clench down around him. You’re even tighter in this position and he has the bonus of being able to look into your eyes. See your face. “Does that feel good, baby?”

"Joel. It's...shit. It's so good." You confess breathlessly and your nails dig into his chest a little as you start to rock your hips. "Shit. How does it feel so good? Never been like this before." You confess as your eyes meet his and your heart pounds in your chest, silently giving you the answer to your question.

Bracing his feet on the bed, he rocks his hips up to meet you when you lift off of him. Making both of you groan at how good it feels. “You look so good on my dick.” He groans. “Your ex is a fucking moron.” He doesn’t want you to think about that asshole, but he wants you to know that it wasn’t you. One hand slides up to cup your breast, squeezing gently. “Never wanna leave this pussy.”

His words make you clench around him and you whimper, falling forward to press your chest against his so you can kiss him. Your lips pressing against his and you tangle your fingers in his hair as he thrusts up into you. His arms wrap around you and you kiss his jaw when you pull back to take a breath. "Never want you to stop fucking me."

Joel grunts, shifting to take control. “Good-“ he pants. “Good thing I last the second time.” He starts rocking his hips up, pinning you to him as he fucks you. “It’s why I wanted you to ride me. Probably take me an hour to cum.”

You are surprised by that. Most men you've been with tend to leave you unsatisfied after finding their own orgasm. "Fuck, really?" You gasp and he chuckles, thrusting a little harder. "Yes. Gonna make you cum over and over again." You cry out when he hits deep, nudging your cervix, but you love it. "Yessss." You hiss, "do that again baby."

Joel groans and does as you demand, snapping his hips up sharply so he can push against that spot again. He might be getting older, slower, fall asleep after dinner in his chair, but he’s not going to disappoint you. Not when he has this time with you like this. Trying to give you the same performance if he had fucked you years ago. “That?” He teases. “I’ll do that as much as you want.”

The sound you let out is between a wail and a moan as he hits that spot again. “Oh shitttt.” You hiss, lost in the sensations. “Again. That- again.” You beg and he does it, making you shake above him. “Joel. Oh shit. Baby. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - fuuuu-” The word fading into a choke as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him as you shake above his body, your fingers tugging on his hair.

This time he slows down, rocking you through the pleasure slowly and finally stopping when you slump down into his chest. He’s still hard, buried inside you, and he hums softly as he lets you catch your breath. “That’s good, baby?” He asks quietly. “You want another one?”

You lean back to look into his face. Fingers coming up to trace the lines that have been etched onto his skin over the years you’ve not seen each other. He’s still just as devastatingly handsome though. Every line is a story you don’t know about. “Yes.” You murmur, pressing your lips to his and you shift to sit up, wanting to ride him again. Your hips rock as you reach for his hands, joining them with yours to give yourself something to hold onto as you rock on his cock.

This time, you ride him. Truly ride him. You roll your hips and circle them around and make him groan. He squeezes your hands, but he doesn’t urge you to go faster. Knowing you will cum again before he does. He doesn’t want to hurt you or wear you out, so he’s just along for the ride. Aware that the sounds from next door have stopped and the guys have gone home.

You tilt your head back as you rock your hips. It’s slower, not as frantic, and you love the way he groans when you grind down onto him. “So good Joel. God, I- I can’t believe it’s so good.” You confess, squeezing his hands before you let go of him and lean back to place your hands on his thighs, grinding forward onto his cock.

He chuckles and watches you with a sense of wonder. “It’s because you’ve not had good sex in a long time.” He downplays his prowess because all that matters is that you enjoy yourself. “God, your pussy is fucking magic.” He moans quietly, twitching violently in the warmth of your walls.

You whimper, loving how he looks beneath you, and you moan his name again, “can you-?” You reach for his hand to bring it to your stomach, sliding it down to rub your clit and you moan when he rubs it just right. “That’s it baby. Shit.” You pant, rocking a little faster and you are soon clamping down on him again, head tilted back as a choked cry escapes your lips.

Joel watches you through heavy lidded eyes as you come apart again. Enjoying the pleasure you take as much as you do, although your body is the one shaking. He rocks his hips up slightly when your pace falters to work you through it. Groaning out your name and humming as you collapse against his chest to kiss you.

You caress his cheek, “I need a second.” You admit, chest heaving as your heart pounds in your chest and you pull off of his cock. Shifting to lay beside him and you reach down to grip his length, starting to pump him slowly while you lean in to kiss him. “Can’t believe you’re in my bed.” You murmur against his lips.

​​“Hard to believe since we haven’t seen each other in so long.” Joel agrees. “But it is pretty damn good, I think.” He reaches up and cups your cheek. “I know you deserve the fucking moon.”

You grin, turning your head to kiss his palm. “So do you. Always thought you were too hard on yourself.” You murmur, continuing to pump his cock. “I want you on top of me.” You request, letting go of his cock.

“Ready for more?” His brow shoots up and he huffs. “It’s a good damn thing that I didn’t cum.” He teases you, already moving to his knees so his could climb on top of you.

You giggle, reaching up to caress his shoulders and down to his chest, reaching for his cock to position him at your entrance. “I want you to cum. Fill me up again.” You promise, “and I’ll always want more.” You reassure him and he looks at you for a moment until he swallows harshly.

“Yeah?” He asks gruffly, not waiting for you to give him an answer, just lunging forward to fill you up again while he kisses you. Swallowing your cry when he pushes deep and immediately starts to rock into you.

You moan into his mouth, tongue tangling with his as he starts to rock his hips. It’s intoxicating and you are certain that you’ve never been fucked this well before. He kisses along your neck, biting your collarbone and you pant, closing your eyes. “So good baby. So good.” You whimper as he lifts your hip higher to sink deeper inside of you.

“Glad you like my fucking.” He huffs, chuckling breathlessly. He hasn’t worked this hard to fuck a pussy in years and he’s not regretting it. You both deserve this. He actually feels like he deserves this, surprisingly. You make him feel like he does.

“Oh God.” You can’t stop rambling about how good he feels, your heart pounding in your chest and you cross your ankles behind his back, your hands caressing his shoulders, strong from his years in construction. He lowers his hips and you swear you’re gonna cum again when the hair at the base of his cock brushes your clit.

“That’s it.” Joel grunts. The position has you perfectly positioned. Loving how tight you feel and how good it feels to be cradled between your thighs, he knows he’s gonna cum this time. “One more.” He begs. “Give me one more and I’ll fill you up again.”

You pant when he pushes deeper and drops his hips again and you swear you almost black out from the extent of pleasure he’s given you and you swear you are going to gush as he hits just right and you clamp down on his cock. “Joel. Joel. Joellll.” You squeal as you cum, soaking him and your ankles pushing against his ass.

Joel groans, unable to stop himself from pushing deep and letting go. His body draws up taunt like a guitar string. “That’s it baby, gonna cum.” He moans, feeling his cock pulse as he spills ropes of cum into your perfect cunt. Emptying himself as he holds his breath, feeling like his heart is about to beat out of his chest.

You sigh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back against the pillows as he paints your walls with his cum. You feel exhausted and yet feel like you could conquer the world. Alive and vibrating with pleasure from the man above you. The words would be so easy to say. The words you’ve wanted to say for so many years but you swallow them down.

Joel groans and pulls out of you slowly, flopping onto his back with a sigh. “Now I need another nap.” He huffs, closing his eyes even as he opens his arms if you want to snuggle to him again. “Wore me out, woman.”

You shift to curl into his side, throwing your leg over his thighs and not caring about his cum dripping out of you. You sigh and kiss his chest. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.” You confess, closing your eyes as you cuddle into him.

“Good.” Joel hums sleepily. “Best damn sex I’ve had too.” His hand curls around your body and closes his eyes again, exhausted and for once, the nightmares don’t come.

**** 

You smile as Ellie sets the blankets up in the back of Joel’s truck. You watch Joel as he comes back to the truck with an armful of popcorn. “Fuck yeah.” Ellie says and you chuckle, taking the popcorn from Joel. “You’re excited to watch Dawn of the Dead?” You ask her with amusement and she nods, “duh. It’s the original. The remake is good but it has nothing on this one.” She says and you watch Joel snort. “Come on, let’s get in the truck, it’s about to start.” He says and you climb in after he does, taking his hand.

Joel can’t believe that you wanted to spend time with Ellie, but it makes him smile as she settles down and you sit beside her. Leaning him to squeeze in on the outside. “It’s always nice when they run these.” Joel admits. “Been a long time since we’ve been, but I always loved it as a kid. Remember all those times we would hang out at the drive in? Damn thing was the only movie theater for twenty miles.”

You shift to snuggle into Joel's side after the movie begins. Ellie chomps away on the popcorn and you inhale the smoky scent of Joel as he shifts to get comfortable with the pillows behind you. The past week has been incredible, spending most days with Joel after he finishes working on the house next door and you've had dinners at your place with and without Ellie. You've wanted Ellie to feel included, that you aren't taking Joel away from her all the time, and the teenager says she's happy she doesn't have to see the miserable old bastard all the time. That made you chuckle and Joel grumble, causing Ellie to go "see? My point." You flinch during the movie, on edge despite seeing this classic before, and Joel rubs your shoulder.

He ignores the way that Ellie eyes the two of you and snickers under her breath. Pulling you against him to where you roll to your side, hooking a leg over his. He tucks his other arm behind his head. “Maybe we can do that thing downtown next week.” He mentions casually, keeping his voice low. “Kid wants to go. Could be fun.” The little town loves to hold festivals and events, especially during the summer. 

You hum, looking up at him. “I would love that.” You have been having dinners with Ellie and she’s a great kid. Feisty and her manners could use some work but she’s a good girl really. She’s gonna be a ball buster when she grows up. You and Joel have grown closer and he told you about Sarah. How he asked her to pick up milk on the way home from school because he was too busy with work to pick her up himself so she said she’d walk home and she ended up involved in an armed robbery of the grocery store. She made one wrong move to try and help a pregnant woman and ended up shot. You held Joel after he told you what happened, both of you crying for the little girl who would never grow up. Since then, you’ve spent as much time as possible together, even spending the night at Joel’s house. You never want to go home. You want to stay right here forever. You kiss Joel’s jaw when it tenses and he turns his head to softly kiss you, making your heart flutter.

Joel hums into the kiss, keeping it soft and light since the kid is sitting right next to you. He’s already planning on having you spend the night. Getting used to the feeling of your body next to his and when he’s holding you, he doesn’t dream of Sarah. He doesn’t hear her last breaths as he sleeps. He nuzzles your cheek with his nose when he pulls away. “Enjoying yourself, baby?”

“Always with you.” You whisper softly while Ellie chomps on popcorn and laughs when someone new gets bitten. It’s the most at peace you’ve been in so long. You want to tell Joel how you feel but you don’t want to ruin this between you. When you arrive back at Joel’s, you bid goodnight to Ellie and Joel is dragging you to his room. “Someone’s eager.” You giggle and he shuts the door behind you.

“Always with you.” He uses your words from earlier, but it’s true. He’s always eager to touch you, to taste you. Feeling your skin against his is unlike anything else and he’s addicted to it. He quickly pulls off your shirt and unclips your bra as he kisses along your neck, moving down to take a nipple in his mouth.

You gasp, body still on fire as much as the first time whenever he touches you. You reach for his jeans, unbuckling them and reaching in to grip his cock, loving how hard he is for you. “Joel.” You whine when he bites down on your nipple, groaning into your skin.

He loves how you whine, how you beg for him. Switching to your other breast, he shows it the same attention, squeezing your ass and then hastily unbuttoning your shorts. Needing to feel how wet you are for him.

You let go of his cock so he can shove your shorts down and he groans when his hand dives into your panties and he finds you soaking wet. You’ve never been so turned on by a man, wet from just a few kisses from Joel. Even looking at him. You whimper when his calloused fingers find your clit. “Yesss baby.” You hiss softly, reaching back to squeeze his cock.

“Fuck.” He groans against your tit. His fingers rub your clit and then he slides them deep inside you and curls up. “Want you to cum for me, then I want to fuck you.” He growls.

You can’t deny him when he wants you to cum for him. His thumb pressing against your clit and you’re so close already. “Joel. Baby. Shit.” You hiss as you clamp down on his digits, soaking them and your grip on his cock tightens.

It seems like he’s learned your body perfectly over the last week. Groaning happily when your cunt gushes around his fingers and makes it squelch when he continues to finger you. “So good baby, so good.” He praises. “You’re so good for me.”

You whimper, “yes. Yes. All yours. I- shit. Need you inside of me.” You plead, letting go of his cock to reach for his shirt. You want to pull it over his head so you can touch his skin.

It’s a frantic rush to get both of you undressed. Acting like teenagers again. He chuckles when he nearly trips over his boxers as he moves you towards the bed. “So damn eager. All the time.” He grunts, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes you down onto the bed.

You giggle, looking up at him as he shifts to kneel between your legs. You stop giggling when he looks at you and you reach up to caress his cheeks. “It’s because it’s you.” You murmur, your heart pounding in your chest and you know you can’t say those words and ruin this so you surge forward to press your lips against gis.

Joel closes his eyes and moans into your mouth. Gripping his cock and guiding himself towards your dripping entrance while your tongues tangle together. Flattening his hands on either side of your head as he starts to push inside you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, lifting your thighs up to rest on his hips so he can sink deeper inside of you. “Joel baby. Shit. Always so thick. Stretching me out. Would’ve - would’ve let you fuck me in your truck during the movie if Ellie wasn’t there.” You reveal when he leans back to kiss along your jaw.

He hums quietly. "Could you have kept quiet?" He asks, sliding a hand up and covering your mouth. "Or would I have had to fuck you like this? Keep those pretty sounds for myself while I fuck you?"

Your moan is muffled by his palm and you whimper when he starts to move inside of you. Your cunt clenches around him, making him chuckle darkly, and you swear that alone could make you cum. His hand slides down to your neck, holding you there but not squeezing. “I would’ve tried. The - the horror screams might’ve covered mine up.”

He hums, smirking as he watches you squirm underneath him. "Maybe." He tells you doubtfully. Your screams are too loud when he's really fucking you. Although you normally save that for when he's fucking you at your aunt's house.

You slap his chest playfully and he grabs your hand, pressing it into the mattress above your head. “I could’ve kept quiet.” You huff and he thrusts particularly hard into you, making you moan a little louder than you shoulder. His eyebrow raises as you open your eyes and you roll your eyes, “okay, you made your point. Now, you gonna fuck me, Miller?” You tease, leaning up to nip his jaw.

“I’m fuckin’ you, aren’t I?” He grumbles even though he’s smirking again. He’s been doing a lot of that around you lately. Reaching back, he grabs your hand and lifts it up over your head while he slams into you again. “Addicted to it. To you.”

Your mouth falls open, all joking gone as he hits so deep inside of you. “Fuck.” You gasp, closing your eyes as he rolls his hips on the next thrust. “Shit. Me too. Addicted. To all of you.” You promise, having seen some of his darker moments when he’d wake up in the middle of the night and momentarily forget he lost Sarah. You’d held him while he settled down and neither of you spoke about it the next morning. It’s his decision to talk or not talk.

With your confession, his pace falters for a moment before he starts rocking into you faster. Snapping his hips as harshly as he can to slam into you roughly. Knocking your breath and his own out of you as he fucks you.

You lift your hips higher, sending him impossibly deeper inside of you, and you can barely breathe with the way he’s pushing deep inside of you. “Fuck baby. That’s it. God. Feels so good. So good.” You moan, squeezing his hands in yours.

“You’re so good.” He’s done everything he fucking could to show you how sexy you are. How desirable. That your ex is a dumbass. He squeezes your hand and despite the rough pace, his lips are tender on yours.

His hips grind against yours and you are close when he rubs your clit just right. “Shit. Jo-Joel. Fuck. I’m gonna - I’m gonna - Shitttttt.” You hiss as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him and your lips hover against his as he works you through it.

It’s always so surprising how quickly you cum. Making him groan as your walls squeeze hum like a vice, begging him to fill you up. He kisses you again, keeping his cock working in and out of you as he chases his own high. Thinking about you and how sexy you are, different times he’s fucked you. Wanting to cum and snuggle with you while he can. “Fuck, fuck, baby.” He pants. “So fucking good for me. Soaking my cock. Moaning my name. You’re mine, ain’t cha?”

You nod, “yes. Yes. Yours. Always been yours. You just didn’t know it.” You confess and he groans, pushing deep inside of you with a hiss as he starts to cum. “That’s it baby. Cum for me. Yes. Yes. God, that’s it.” You squeeze his hands as he scrunches his face up while he paints your walls.

“You should stay.” Joel groans out as he collapses on top of you and buries his face into your neck. Panting breathlessly and trying to find the words he needs, even though he’s never been good at them. He needs you. Much like he needed Ellie, just in a different kind of way. He doesn’t want you to leave and he knows you’ve only got a few days left.

You want to stay. More than anything. You often daydream about a life spent with Joel but you have a life back in Texas that you need to sort out. You want to stay, forget everything in Texas but you have an apartment. “I can’t. Not yet.” You murmur and caress his back, “I have stuff to figure out in Texas.” You wish you could stay with him but you have to get everything sorted.

Joel doesn’t say anything. He knows it was a long shot. He kisses you softly and pulls out of you with a groan and rolls onto his back. Quiet and suddenly wondering is you are going to go back to that asshole now that you’ve fucked someone else.

You shift into his side, kissing his chest, and you know it’s hard to explain to Joel who sees the world in absolutes. You know he isn’t happy with your answer and you’ll try to explain it better in the daylight. He is soon snoring in your ear and you murmur to him, “I love you.” You will call your parents tomorrow and see if they can help you out. 

**** 

Joel looks at you as you finish making the sandwiches for lunch. “You nearly finished with the house next door?” You ask him as you set the iced tea down in front of him as he shifts to sit at your kitchen counter. 

“Nearly.” He says and he’s been quiet since last night when you told him you weren’t staying. 

You set the plate in front of him just as the doorbell rings. He looks at you and you shake your head, “I didn’t order anything.” You say and make your way over to the front door. You open it and gasp, “Jason?”

His heart sinks as he hears your gasps but his first instinct is anger. Lurching out of his seat, Joel rushes to the door and pushes you out of the way so he can grab the asshole who hurt you. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He growls, satisfied that the man nearly squeals and flinches when Joel draws his fist back to punch him.

Jason winces and you reach up to touch Joel’s arm. “Don’t. He’s not worth it.” You say and Joel glances at you, confused that you don’t want him to beat this guy’s ass and you say no. “What do you want, Jason?” You huff and Jason adjusts his shirt after Joel lowers his arm. 

“I want you back. I made a mistake. I'm sorry baby. Please. I miss you.” You ignore that to ask him how he found you. “Your phone…still has the location shared with me.” 

You hiss at your stupidity. “I don’t - I don’t love you Jason. You hurt me. So much. Just go.” You plead and he shakes his head, trying to push into the house but Joel puffs his chest and Jason backs away. 

“Fine. Whatever. Clearly you’ve moved on. Good luck, man. She’s batshit crazy.” Jason growls, “and she needs to do some fucking kegels.” 

Joel hisses and surges forward to grab Jasón but he manages to dodge Joel and runs down the path. “Motherfucker.” Joel hisses and tries to catch him but you place your hand on his chest, “leave it baby. It’s not worth it.” You remind him and Joel shouts out, “you worthless piece of shit!” You sigh and shut the door, feeling a little shaken by Jason’s random appearance.

Joel’s angry. Pissed off that you apparently still have feelings for that fucking loser. Enough that you wouldn’t let him beat the shit out of him and teach him some fucking manners. “Charming asshole.” He grunts, not even hungry anymore. “See why you want to go back to him.” You just said you didn’t love him, but why else would you give up on everything the two of you have if not to go back to that worthless piece of shit.

Your eyes widen, “go- what the hell are you talking about, Joel? Go back to him? That’s the last thing I’d ever do. I didn’t think he’d track my fucking phone to come and find me.” You shake your head, “I don’t want him. I want you. I only want you.” You want to tell him how much but you don’t want to risk your heart again.

“Except you aren’t staying with me, are you?” He demands. “You’re gonna fuck off back to Texas and maybe tell your friends that you rebounded with some dumb construction worker who knew you from back in the day.” His own fears ride to the surface and he lashes out at you. “Poor son of a bitch actually thought he had a chance and asked you to stay.”

You shake your head, “Joel. No. I- I have to go home because I have an apartment. A job. I can’t just up and leave everything. I want to stay. More than anything in the world but we aren’t kids, we have responsibilities and I have to handle it all before I come back here. I want to stay. More than anything in the world.” You assure him, noticing how tense he is and you feel guilty for not explaining yourself before.

“Whatever.” He’s angry and irrational. A little embarrassed about how he just flung his heart out there. “I’m- I’ve got to get back to work.” He picks up his tool belt off the back of the chair and turns towards the door. Hating how vulnerable you’ve made him feel and how easily you can hurt him.

You want to run after him, scream at him that you love him, that you've always been in love with him. No one has ever made you feel like he does. Instead, you stare at the kitchen counter. You told him you'd come back but he pushed it aside. Maybe it's best that you go home before you destroy the last of your relationship with Joel. You work on packing your things, booking a flight home, and you text Ellie to tell her you are heading home first thing. She tries to call you but you ignore it, wanting to have a glass of wine or two to smother the way your heart aches at leaving Joel again. You never discussed why you left. You never told him and now you doubt you will. You organize your aunt's house, leaving it how you found it and get into bed without Joel.

“You’re a fucking dumbass.” Joel ignores the jab coming from the teenager as he stirs the pan as if it was a mission to whip the water and milk mixture the boxed dinner called for. “Joel? Joel? She’s leaving.” She stresses again. “You know, not being here anymore?” 

Slamming the spoon down, Joel turns around to glare at Ellie. “I fucking know. What do you want me to do about it?” He demands. “She’s a fucking adult. She can go where she wants.” 

The girl’s eyebrows arch up to her forehead and she rears back at the anger in Joel’s tone. “Man, you got it baaaaaaad.” She huffs. “You need to tell her how you feel.” 

Joel snorts. “I have.” He admits, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, stay out of it.” 

Ellie harumps at him and crosses her arms. “Go talk to her.” She demands, staring him down and he knows she won’t let this go. 

“Fine.” He grumbles, slapping his hands on his hips to search for his keys. “Won’t do any good, but I’ll go talk to her.”

The doorbell rings and you frown, getting out of bed to see who it is. Hoping it's not Jason coming back. When you see Joel through the peephole, you sigh and open the door. "Hey." You say weakly as you stand there in your pajamas in the doorway.

“Can we talk?” Joel asks, shuffling slightly on the steps and wondering if you would tell him to fuck off. He had overreacted and fucked things up. “Please?”

You nod, stepping aside so he can walk in and you shut the door behind him. “Ellie told you I booked a flight home?” You ask and he nods, pushing his hands into his jeans. “Yeah.” He clears his throat and you bite your lip, taking a moment. “I don’t think you understand me, Joel. I- I don’t want to leave. Ever. If I could stay here forever, I would. But I can’t. Not because I don’t want to. I want to. I have a life back home. A home. A job. I can't abandon that stuff. I have to sort it out and then…I was planning to come back.”

His shoulders round, knowing that he hadn’t heard you say that when he was busy being upset. “I- I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly, hating being wrong and feeling like he’s fucked things up. “I shouldn’t have- I didn’t hear you say that. I’m- no excuse.” He tells the kid to own up to her mistakes all the time and he should do the same.

You aren’t angry with him, just upset. “I- I never told you the reason why I left when you got married…did I?” You ask and he shakes his head, his hand coming up to run it through his hair. You fiddle with your fingers and lick your lips, giving yourself a moment. “I left because I couldn’t stand to see the man I love be in love with another woman, marry another woman. It tore me apart and I thought it was easier to leave than to watch you live your life without me being the woman you chose to be with. I was so in love with you and you didn’t see it. I had to go.”

“Oh baby.” Joel closes his eyes, pulling his hands out of his pockets so he can pull you close. “I wish you had told me.” It wouldn’t have changed things, he had married her, but maybe he could have kept you as a friend. “We didn’t last a year. She wasn’t the one for me. Not really, and we both knew it.”

You know he wouldn’t change a thing because he had Sarah because he married Helen but you hug him, breathing him in. “You had Sarah so life happens for a reason and you’re here now and I - I still love you. I’m still so damn in love with you, Miller.” You confess as you pull back to look at him.

“I love you.” He murmurs softly. “I - I was going to offer to come to Texas.” He’s not stepped foot in the state since his daughter died and he really didn’t want to go back, but he would for you. “To visit you. It would be hard to move Ellie.”

You caress his cheek, “I won’t be long.” You promise, “I can work remotely so I just gotta head home to pack up and find somewhere here to buy.” You tell him, “I won’t be gone long enough for you to need to visit me. I know you can’t move because of Ellie so I’ll come here. I don’t want to run anymore. I want you.” You promise, leaning in to nudge your nose with his.

“You don’t have to buy anything.” Joel murmurs quietly. “You can move in with me and Ellie.” He knows you might not want to move in with him after your ex cheated on you in your home, but he wants to offer. “No need to waste the money when you’re gonna be in bed with me.”

You smile, pleased that he’s ready to jump all in. “You want me in your bed?” You ask and he nods, “every damn night.” You giggle softly and kiss his lower lip. “As soon as I’m back, I’ll never leave your bed.” You promise, “I’m yours. Forever. If you’ll have me.”

“Baby, I want you.” Joel wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. “I promise you, I want you. Forever. Your asshole ex threw away the greatest thing he ever had and I’m not stupid enough to do the same.”

  ​​