#joy for everyone in the warm summer sun

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[getitoutofmymindwrites]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

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FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

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

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

Then you remember.

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

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

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

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

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

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

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

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

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

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean about the therapy?”

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh? What did she say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you certainly delivered.

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

“I can’t do this-”

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

“-tonight.”

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

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

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

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

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

Can we talk?

Yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

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

Joel looks at you perplexed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

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

You let him, because you are a weak person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you insist?”

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

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

“I didn’t want you to.”

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

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

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

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

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him.

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

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Ridiculous..”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

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

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

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

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

previous |

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

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

@sofiparallel

[yandere-sins]

Just saw your greek god works and they're top notch! Could you do something with yan Apollo? There's just soooo much stuff to work with with him... Thanks!

Thank you for requesting!! I love writing about them ^-^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Very little could speak more about your skills than a personal invite to present them at Olympus.

The morning Apollo arrived in his golden chariot was an exceptionally bright one. Naturally, because his body emanated the rays of sun that broke through your window, his radiant smile widening on his youthful face the second you stepped out of your hut. Your mother was crying—tears of joy as you realized when she hugged you tightly, telling you how proud she was. Even your father seemed choked up when he told you you were special.

So, as you finally stood before the handsome stranger, the god whose shrine you visited regularly, you were utterly speechless, overcome with emotions you couldn't place. You could only listen as he spoke to you, his voice silken like the soft breeze on a summer's day yet as cheerful as the anticipation for an exciting festival.

"I want you to play," he made his intentions known, his hand falling to the side of your head, letting a lock of hair glide through the gaps in his fingers. His touch was warm and gentle, beyond anything you expected an immortal to feel like. "For us, for me."

"It would be an honor," you honestly muttered back after your mother urged you with a slight push, reminding you not to be rude to the god who was blessing you with such good fortune. Most people were honored in war, because of their devotion to their deity, in the pursuit of knowledge, or in death. To be chosen solely for your lyre play was rare, and you felt overwhelmed with gratitude, tears filling your eyes.

Apollo smiled, promising to come back in a mere three days time. Not enough to memorize all the songs you wanted to play, but while your parents packed you a small bag with the essentials and exempted you from your duties on their farm while making sure you were fed and clean, you kept practicing your craft until your fingers were raw and bloody. Apollo had assured you that there was no perfection in music. Still, you wouldn't have been able to endure the shame of hitting the wrong note to a song everyone knew—even the gods. And so you practiced, day and night, until finally, it was time to leave.

That morning was colder yet auspicious. So many burdens weighed on your shoulders—your performance, bringing honor to your family and yourself, the payment you heard your parents whisper about. There had always been food on the table for your big family, but you noticed their excitement when they talked about the boon that the gods would give you for performing well. You gulped nervously as you fiddled with the newly strung lyre in your hand when, with loud neighs and the warmth of a sunny day washing over you, Apollo arrived. When he smiled at you, you couldn't help but grin back, excited for this day, his brilliant mood instantly captivating yours.

You bid your parents farewell as they wished you a good performance and safe travels. They waved after you as the heavenly chariot took off into the morning sky, announcing another beautiful day. You got to stand close to the sun god as he performed his duty, chatting carefreely about how excited he was to hear you play and how everyone was expecting you eagerly. It made you nervous, but being close to him, his arm around you to keep you secured, Apollo's presence made your worries simply melt away. You could have never seen yourself as his equal, but he didn't make you feel any less than a friend.

He took his time cruising you through the sky, showed you the magnificent temples of the gods, let you taste the richest grapes the land had to offer, and took you to places that most humans wouldn't see in the span of multiple lifetimes. Always with a hand outstretched to help you step down from or into his chariot, and watchful eyes looking out for you. You learned a lot that day, the excursion long but magical, especially with a god by your side as your guide. To him, it must have been boring stuff that he saw every day, but to you, it became the most incredible day of your life very quickly.

Until you were brought before the entrance to the Olymp, that is.

Chariot parked, you could still feel Apollo standing behind you, protectively but encouragingly. His frame towered massively next to you, cutting you off from the human world behind his radiant form. The sun was setting, leaving you with a chill. But perhaps you were only imagining it, your performance anxiety rising. His warm hand gently pressed into the small of your back, urging you with determination to step ahead and face the rest of the pantheon of gods that had collected, to play them the songs you had come for.

With weak knees, you took one step in front of the other, Apollo always by your side. He ensured you wouldn't falter as all eyes in the grand hall seemed to turn towards you the moment you stepped through the entrance. There were all kinds of eyes—wise and godly and mythical. But you were more surprised by the human ones, tired ones, downright exhausted ones that raised to watch you. Their presence felt out of place, but then again, so did yours. However, there was something deeply unsettling in the dullness of their eyes, the sloppy movements as they walked around the hall, seemingly without vigor, their stares the only reaction to your arrival contrasting starkly with the boisterous and booming voices of the immortals greeting you.

"Apollo, is this your new charge?" a faun asked, curiously eyeing you and your lyre. "Your new songbird, eh?"

Apollo laughed, waving off the comments from all sides as he moved you forward, guiding you through gods and servants alike, their hands reaching out, touching you, admiring you. You couldn't help but startle at the different sensations of these touches—cold, sharp, unnatural. It made you cling to Apollo more, his presence way more comforting, and although he had grown in size—appearing mighty godly now—he made sure that his arm stayed around you like a shield.

One dull-eyed human after another tried to serve you food and drinks that you declined respectfully. It was hard enough to keep up with the pressure, and you didn't have the stomach for any kind of intake—at least not until you were done. And with Apollo's urging, you didn't stick around to talk to them or even watch them, although you felt their eyes drill into your back.

You were led to the seats at the very top of the grand hall, guided to the ones at the side which were vividly red with golden threads. Sitting down on them was like sinking into a cloud as Apollo helped you up, lowering you down gently. The surrounding lounges and pillows on the floor were quickly filled with eager eyes looking up at you, waiting for your play just like your patron god had promised them. You couldn't help but look around, cross eyes with some of the nymphs and minor goddesses and gods that you probably had heard from but were never educated on properly.

But the gathered gods were easily recognizable by their trademarks—Dionysus, Athena, Aphrodite, and Artemis, just to name a few of them—and you were surprised to see them keeping one or more humans by their sides, looking very different from the ones you had seen before. These ones were clothed and prepared with great care, love, and devotion to their god. Their cheeks were plump, and they smiled when their patron spoke to them, albeit hesitantly. However, the unsettling feeling you got from the dull-eyed ones before didn't vanish as you watched these devoted humans. Something about their posture and expressions didn't match the festivities. They looked uncomfortable, and some of them even sad.

"It is time," Apollo spoke softly beside you, his voice gentle but intent. This was his party, and you were the special performance; of course, he didn't want you to be distracted and unable to play. His touch tore you out of your observations. It drew your attention back to him, strong fingers wrapping around your shoulders, squeezing you encouragely, but it was almost a little hurtful. You nodded, thankful he didn't make you look incompetent in front of everyone, and his grip softened in satisfaction, although it didn't disappear. Still, you couldn't help the anxiety from rising, your mouth dry, and your fingers jittery. Even when you tried to calm yourself, you couldn't entirely focus, panic rising inside you.

Now that you had come so far, you couldn't fail.

A hearty and a beautiful laugh rang out from your side, Dionysus and Aphrodite exchanging knowing looks before the goddess handed one of her humans a golden chalice and encouraged them to get up. "Go," she chimed, and her stunningly beautiful charge sauntered their way over to you, handing you the chalice. They were undeniably beautiful, even when clothed in the simplest garments. But their gaze was unblinking as they handed over the cup. "Don't," they hissed sharply in a whisper, their eyes flitting to Apollo for just a second, and you felt his fingers dig into your skin before the human left you again, trotting quickly and without a detour back to Aphrodite's side. The goddess patted their head before returning her attention to you, gesturing for you to drink. "To your nerves, you ray of sunshine," Dionysus laughed merrily, and everyone raised their chalices in a toast.

You nervously crossed eyes with the human that brought you the drink, seeing their expression hardening in a deep frown unbecoming of their beauty. Then you looked to Apollo, his own cup raised to his lips, but he had yet to drink from it. He observed you from the corners of his eyes, smiling when he noticed you looking back. "It's just a little bit of wine," he reassured you, assuming you were unsure if it was okay to drink.

You nodded, feeling pressured not to refuse the gods' hospitality, and raised the chalice to your mouth to take a tentative sip. It wasn't more than two gulps before you set it down, letting it be taken away by a nymph that sat at your feet. Immediately, the tension became lighter, your worries melting away, especially when Apollo drew you closer to his body, his warmth seeping into you. He steadied you for your play, letting you lean on him as much as you needed. With all the pressure and anxiety you had felt, you had almost forgotten that playing the lyre was fun. That you enjoyed doing it, and practiced hard enough to even perform before the gods. With the first chord echoing through the hall, all the tension finally left your body.

It was glorious.

Gods and humans alike sang along to the well-known songs you had picked; they listened when you added nuances to your play, and some of them got cozy with each other, cuddling and kissing as you presented them with the romantic notes everyone adored. By the time your hands were tired, fingers roughed up by the strings, and your concentration fading, everyone was in awe and satisfied with your performance, gods clapping their hands and cheering at you as you finished.

However, you immediately looked up at Apollo, greeted by his radiant smile beaming down at you. His hand raised to pat your head as he announced you as the magnificent talent of the night. The relief mixing with pride swelled in your chest, heating your cheeks as you took some humble bows, smothered in the cheers. Another cup was handed to you, and after performing for so long, you were glad to wet your throat.

Most of the night was spent talking to eager fans of music, letting them play your lyre, and hearing their own songs. Drinks would be passed to you, food almost shoved into your mouth by the merry folks, and you laughed along with them over their silliness. You felt lighter than ever before, so caught up in the moment and with the alcohol only adding towards the sense of mirth. The mystics were as playful and cheery as they had always been described, but you knew it would only be for that night, so you enjoyed their company.

Apollo wouldn't leave your side even as gods approached him, congratulating him for finding such a treasure amongst the humans and asking if he'd let them "take" you for their celebrations sometimes. You didn't get to hear his answers as your attention was drawn away by humans joining in with the conversations, telling you about their boons and how they were accepted into Olympus. They were all extraordinary people, and you felt quite small next to them. But they didn't make you feel unwelcome in their midst, and you were glad to hear about their experiences. Nymphs would braid everyone's hair, decorating them with flowers, fauns were playing around, everything seemed like the perfect idylle that all humans imagined the lives of gods to be.

"You shouldn't agree if they ask you to stay," the human beside you suddenly whispered. She was a cute, dainty woman, a follower of Artemis clothed in silver and pelts. Immediately, her hair was yanked back as one of the nymphs hissed at her. You caught the words 'insolent' and 'behave', but others crowded around you so fast, talking over the two and asking you questions as that woman was taken away, so you were forced to shift your attention.

It wasn't until you felt a warm hand graze over your back that you looked up at Apollo again, his gaze very gentle. He seemed satisfied with how the evening went. He might have even held some affection for you after the performance, which put him in good graces with everyone. Relief flooded your senses, and you bit back a yawn as exhaustion suddenly crashed into you, taking hold in your body.

"Are you tired?" he asked, and suddenly, you couldn't hold back the signs in front of him. You had kept it together so well, but you figured that playing for hours, talking for even longer, and drinking the sweet, fruity wine was coming back to haunt you now. Leaning into his comforting touch, you gave him a small nod and he understood, standing up and helping you get to your feet.

There were lots of disappointed aws and ohs at the announcement of your departure, nymphs and fauns seeing you off and waving after you as Apollo brought you back to his chariot, your legs even weaker now than when you entered the Olymp full of anxiety. No human came to see you off, but you barely registered that in your tired mind. Instead, you put on a smile and waved back at everyone after getting on the chariot.

"Did you have fun?" Apollo asked as he urged his horses to go. The night had long set, yet you two moved across the sky like a shooting star in the darkness.

"A lot," you confirmed. "This was an amazing experience; I am very grateful to you for this opportunity! Although it makes me sad that it is already over."

You could hear your own words slurred by the intoxication and exhaustion, yet you managed to form a tired smile for him. Apollo stepped closer, helping you stay upright as he urged his horses forward before returning your smile.

"It doesn't have to end," he hummed cheerfully, not a hint of tiredness in his demeanor. "You could play for us every night. Party with everyone, be merry. Would you like that?"

You chuckled at his suggestion but shook your head as you looked out into the night sky, stars passing you by at a speed that made them look like the shooting stars.

"It was a lot of fun, but I got to go home. My parents need my help on the farm, even if I love playing the lyre."

Apollo hummed thoughtfully, and you felt closer and closer to sleep as his warmth enveloped you. You only realized you had dozed off when you felt the soft thud of the chariot landing beneath your feet, followed by two hands guiding you off it. Your eyes fluttered open, but you were too tired to really do much but let yourself be picked up, nuzzling your face into Apollo's comforting warmth.

His steps were less gentle than his touches, his hold on you bouncy as if he was in a rush. The sounds around you turned from the peaceful night wind passing you by into complete silence, only his steps echoing as they hit marble floors. A rush of coldness threatened to envelop you, but Apollo pulled you closer to him, not letting the cold get near. You felt something reach out for you again, like the gods had, curious and uncaring of your privacy. It didn't feel familiar, your senses slowly reawakening, but something inside you seemed to want to keep you dormant for a while longer.

However, the feeling was interrupted when you were laid down into the softest cushions, with Apollo's warmth brushing over your head as you felt his weight dip the mattress you were on top of. Even with your drowsy mind, you knew you weren't in your own bed, concern rising. "Where are we?" you sighed, stretching your neck to receive more of his incredibly comforting warmth while a shiver ran down your spine. Why was it so unusually cold in this place, or had you just gotten too used to having Apollo's warmth around you that you only realized the shift in temperature now?

"Home," he answered your question, and you pried your eyes open, looking at the blurry, radiant form of the god sitting by your bedside. Then, slowly, every movement paired with so much discomfort, you let your head fall to the side, looking around at the vast darkness surrounding you. Not even Apollo's light could banish the pitch-black shadows all around you, and no sound penetrated the room.

" 's not my home..." you mumbled, brows furrowing, your deduction taking an awful lot of time. This place felt weird compared to all the wonderful ones you had visited. If this was his home, you had imagined it to be bright and beautiful, a golden palace of light and warmth. But instead, you feared for your little toes as the shadows seemed to reach out, wanting some of your warmth instead of giving it to you.

"It is now," he reassured you, sounding unusually stern even though his hand caressed you gently, brushing away your hair and cupping your cheek to turn your head towards him again.

"But my parents..."

"They knew the price they'd pay in this trade."

Leaning down, Apollo connected his forehead with yours, the depth of his eyes impalpable, especially in your muddled brain. You couldn't read him well, but he seemed... satisfied? He didn't seem to be ridden by confusion or worry like you were; rather, he was confident and calm. Something stirred in you, a sense of anxiety, but it was beaten down by a sweet-tasting tiredness immediately.

"Welcome home," he muttered, kissing your temples. "Catch some sleep so you can fulfill your duties to me tomorrow with the same brilliance as you did today. I'll be right here, making sure you are well-rested for your next performance, Sunshine."

"Duties?" you mumbled, already getting lulled back to sleep with his warmth now enveloping you like a blanket. You didn't hear his answer, even when you saw his lips move. Perhaps Apollo sang to you rather than spoke about what you wanted to know, but you wouldn't know.

You were plunged into the darkness of uncertainty, but even when you opened your eyes again, all that awaited you were more shadows that seemed to reach out for you. A sense of panic and unease spread throughout you, the uncertainty turning you into more of a wreck than you already felt after waking up with a splitting headache and no idea where you were.

It was no wonder that you immediately ran to Apollo when his light lit up the room. He gently wiped the tears from your face and assured you everything would be alright before pushing your lyre into your hands. You didn't even remember bringing it back from the Olymp, but he didn't seem to mind your carelessness.

"Now, play," he asked, and you gulped. You were barely awake, your fingers still hurt, and you were in an unfamiliar place that gave you the creeps.

"Here?" you asked, unsure as you looked around the depressing, dark room.

"Exactly here. Brighten up our home for me, will you? It's been too long since someone made it bearable to stay here. You won't disappoint me, right?"

"How... how did they do it? Will my playing be enough?"

"We'll see," Apollo said, gripping your arms tensely, his eyes glazing over with impatience.

"And if not?" you asked anxiously, unsure if a song could disperse the discomfort that seemed to reign in this home.

This time, Apollo hesitated, mouth opening briefly before his lips turned into a gentle smile. "Don't disappoint me, Sunshine. I can't stand this darkness and silence in my home anymore, and your parents assured me of how much life you could bring to any place. Seeing you perform before the gods, I immediately knew you could do it. You'll make this place a home again, one for us to live happily for the rest of our time. And if not..."

Letting go of your arms, Apollo stood up, turning around and heading for the door at the far side of the room. You wanted to follow him as the shadows lapped at you, but you felt glued to the floor, frozen in fear. With Apollo opening the door, you watched as the clouds passed by right outside, a complete drop into nothingness spreading out in front of this house, the chariot parked on seemingly no ground just outside of reach.

"If not, you'll learn what happened to the person before you that disappointed me," Apollo explained, not even pointing outside and towards the ground to make his crypticness make sense. "Play," he demanded. "Turn this place back into a home. Our home, Sunshine."

And with dread etched into your face, you strung the chords.

[lou-struck]

Time to Cool Off

Osamu Miya x reader

~ Osamu knows that a busy dinner rush can make even the most experienced workers run hot. That’s where you come in.

 W.c: 1.9k

Warnings: Karens, Swearing, The Service Industry

a/n: This one goes out to everyone who has ever had to cry in the walk in (I know I have)

It's one of those cool summer evenings where the sun has been hidden behind the clouds for what seems like hours. The pavement is no longer warm as you stroll down the familiar sidewalk path to your favorite spot in the city.

Like every other Friday night, Onigiri Miya is absolutely packed. Seeing your fiancé's restaurant succeed fills your heart with joy, but this is ridiculous. By the time you manage to squeeze yourself into the waiting area by the front counter, you cannot tell what customers are in line waiting to order and what customers are standing by waiting for their food. Even the dining area is at capacity as servers are frantically running around trying to take care of their many tables.

Through the chaos, however, you do see that there is a bit of organization with the staff, who are more than used to a busy evening. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see an outstretched arm swinging towards you. Dodging throws you a bit off balance. But at least you managed to avoid receiving an accidental black eye from the woman in front of you.

"This is insane," you mumble to yourself. It's not safe for you to be standing in such a large crowd of hungry people. You eye the stainless steel kitchen doors and zero in on your Target. Osamu is in there, along with a plethora of personal space for you to enjoy.

You weave through the crowd of customers gently. Avoiding all sorts of outstretched arms, legs, purses, and those dangling wallet keychain thingies like you are fresh out of the matrix. You're almost free when a large hairy arm stretches out in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn and see a middle-aged man glaring at you, an irritated expression on his face as he looks you over. "Oi, who do ya think ya are cutting in line."

You shoot him an apologetic look and raise your hands innocently. "Oh, I'm not putting in an order; I'm just heading back to the kitchen to~."

He cuts you off with a venomous look in his cold, dark gaze. This gentleman is clearly past the point of hangriness and now evolving into a full-blown Karen. "Likely story," he spits, reaching for your wrist. "But I don't think so~"

A familiar-looking body steps in between the two of you, and you take a slight step back. "I wouldn't touch them if I were you," your future brother-in-law says with a smile. The friendly face comforts you, and you flash him a thankful smile.

Atsumu may have is hands full with his volleyball career, but he still tries to make time to help out at Osamu's restaurant whenever he has a chance. Unlike his (slightly better-looking) brother, the setter is a klutz in the kitchen, so he is usually confined to the front-of-house duties such as ringing in take-out orders or seating parties. 

"And what are you gonna do about it?" He quips, not realizing he is vaguely threatening a professional athlete. 

The faux-blonde man with almost the same face as your fiance grins and rolls up his sleeves, nonchalantly revealing the product of years of hard work, his biceps. 

Karen dude pales in fear as he becomes aware that he has bit off far more than he can chew and takes a frightened step back, nearly knocking over another customer in the process. "Whatever, I'm leaving. I'm sure I can find some better stuff to eat than this place." He spits, turning heel and scampering away with his metaphorical tail between his legs. 

With the troublesome customer gone, you breathe a sigh of relief and turn your attention to Atsumu. 

"Thank you for stepping in; I'd hate to think what your brother would've done if he had to deal with serving that asshole." You smile, glancing just beyond the counter and see that the restaurant is even more packed than you thought it was.  "It's crazy busy tonight, isn't it?"

At your comment, he lets out a long sigh, "Ya have no Idea. I was just bored at home, so I came in to make some just came in to help out since he was bored at home, but if he knew how crazy things were gonna be, he would've just stayed away."

"Is Samu in the back?" you ask worriedly; these crazy dinner rushes are a lot for anyone to handle, especially someone as passionate and thorough as he is. 

Atsumu's eyes widen a bit as he nervously glances back toward the kitchen with a gulp. "Well…Samu is struggling a bit tonight."

"Oh, I see…" you frown, and your body moves toward the kitchen unconsciously. "I better go check on him."

You push open the door, and a rice ball misses your head by an inch. You are too scared to scream as you watch it splatter against the door. Your eyes widen as your head snaps to the source of your assault to see Osamu, you're handsome, loving fiancé, having an irritated conversation with a waitress. 

"What do ya mean her onigiri is the wrong shape? It looks the same as the hundreds of others that have passed by her table tonight."

"That's just what she said, sir," the waiter huffs. And you feel his pain; people are crazy tonight.

Osamu just sighs and turns toward the countertop to make a new riceball. A clean hand plunges into a pot of still-steaming rice and pulls out a handful. You wince as he frustratedly shapes a new ball, but the tension is running so high he doesn't even flinch from the pain. He prepares it in his usual practiced motions and sets it down on a new plate to hand to the now-sunned server. 

"Give 'em this one. And if they have anything else to say, jus grab me, don't waste yer time talkin to these idiots." he sighs as the waiter goes on their way.

They slip past you in the doorway, and Osamu finally notices that you are here, in his kitchen. His tired eyes light up a bit as his lips curve upwards in a weary smile. His broad shoulders slacken as you step into his open embrace and he holds you tightly. 

He smells a bit like smoke and onions, but you don't care at all; he needs this hug. "Busy night?'

"You have no idea," he murmurs, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. "Is it a full moon t'night cause people are actin crazy?"

"Actually, that would explain a lot," you mumble, reaching into your back pocket to grab your phone. When you check your weather app, your face falls, and you flash him the screen, illuminated with a big, blue supermoon."

"Well, shit. What the hell is a supermoon?" he grumbles. His strong face looking adorable in his exasperated little pouting situation he has going on.  

"I guess it's like a full moon but more super." you chuckle, patting his back. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Jus keep me company," he smiles, "Ya do more than enough as is."

Although his words are sweet, you aren't buying any of it. This isn't your first time working at his restaurant, and it certainly won't be the last. With a quick wash of your hands, you turn your attention over to the to-go orders. There are several that are completed and waiting to be packed up and sent out. 

Osamu sees you already hard at work and lets out a chuckle, "What would I do without cha'?" 

"Suffer." you tease, boxing up another order. 

The two of you get into a steady rhythm; he works his way through the mountain of tickets, and you box up the ones that you need to. Everything is going great until you are interrupted by a frazzled looking Atsumu.

"Hey Samu. I got a coupon here that won't work; what should I do with it?"

Osamu's head snaps toward his brother with lighting fast quickness.

"What coupon?" he asks, taking the piece of paper from his brother's outstretched hand. As he reads the paper, you see his body go rigid. And you place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"TSUMU, THIS IS A COUPON FOR 25% OFF A BUSHEL OF YARN DOWN AT THE CRAFT STORE! WHY DID YA THINK I WOULD ACCEPT THIS?" he snaps. "ARE YA AN IDIOT?"

Atsumu's eyes turn glassy as he takes the paper back from his brother. "B-but the lady said it worked for her last time."

Osamu sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "No, it didn't,"

"But the customers.." he starts to say and you feel your body tense up as he begins that dreaded slogan. 

"Can be idiots," Osamu finishes. "Jus give the lady her coupon back and tell her that the only coupons he will accept are the ones printed for this restaurant."

Atsumu frowns and walks back into the dining room, armed with the knowledge that the customer is not always right. In fact, sometimes they are just idiots. As Osamu slumps back over to his workstation, he accidentally knocks a frying pan off the counter. 

It hits the ground with a deafening clatter, and he completely loses his shit. 

This is the Straw that broke the camel's back. 

"Goddammit," he grunts, kicking the fallen pan across the room with all his might as he returns to furiously start chopping vegetables.

Angry chopping is never a good idea, so you gently grab his arm to still his movement before he loses a finger or worse. 

"What are ya doin babe?" He asks, looking up at you with a mixture of confusion and a bit of despair.

"You need to go and cool off before you hurt yourself," you say calmly. 

"I-i can't jus take a break; i-its the dinner rush." he stammers in disbelief as you pry the kitchen knife from his grasp and tug him into the walk-in freezer.

"Don't care," you reply, yanking open the large door. Your hand comes to rest on his chest, and you feel the ferocity of his heartbeat through the muscles of his tig ol biddies and shove him into the cold room before he can react. 

Shutting the door behind you, you only need to wait a few seconds before you begin to hear him scream out muffled profanities. He continues this little screaming fest for a few minutes as you wander about the kitchen, making sure that none of the food he has been cooking burns. 

It's not cruel, it's necessary. If Osamu is going to finish this shift in one piece, he needs a moment to himself to just cool off and collect his thoughts.

Suddenly, the canary is no longer singing. 

Cautiously, you open the door and see a slightly chilly-looking Osamu staring back at you. His gray eyes are filled with warmth as he steps out of the freezer and wraps his arms around you. You squirm from the sensation, and he smirks, his good humor still intact.

"Feeling better?" you ask, shivering as his cold hands send goosebumps up your spine.

"Much better," he breathes, pressing his cold lips to your much warmer ones. "I really needed that."

Tagging: @sleepyyshroom, @isaacdaknight @qardasngan

[luvtak]

if you had forever, lfx x reader

✰ genre/tw fluff! a little hurt comfort? kisses, pet names, unedited <3

✰ w/c 1197

✰ hi my loves!! this one has been in my docs for six weeks now loll and as yesterday was my 21 birthday I felt now was the perfect time to post it!! i love you all 🤍

The air was hot, starting fires on your skin where the water didn’t touch, rising up and down your calf as the waves came and receded. Even with your eyes closed you could see it, blue green water rushing closer and closer until it falls back, that familiar shhhh rising in your ears as the salt-water reaches your legs. Skin sticky from sand and sunscreen, goosebumps rising on your thighs… cold water running down your legs like your lover's hands. Your friends sing along to the music flowing from half-broken speakers, a simple pop song from your childhood that everyone knows the words to. 

You can hear them singing along, voices mingling together as they follow the chorus–good, bad, and gravelly; the song of summer. 

Even from the outskirts of the party, you can feel the joy seeping into your sun bitten skin, mingling into the bluesy sadness that’s crept up on you. All the laughter, all the smiles remind you of fuzzy pictures of adolescence, here one day gone the next. Days just like this, nothing but a photo in a long forgotten album, waiting for this one to join them. 

Your boyfriend is around here somewhere, enjoying the salt air and the fast-paced sound of his youth. You came here together, but you haven’t seen him since your first drink–about three drinks ago. He’s probably somewhere with Chris or Jisung, getting into trouble… He’s probably having the time of his life, smiling that smile that rivals the sun, and giggling at his friends. He probably looks beautiful. 

It’s this reason why you’re yearning for him, staring into the wide expanse of the ocean and begging for him to show himself soon. The last drink seems to be working its way through your veins with the unwanted guest of melancholy; tainting your blood with the familiar fear that this will be the last time you do this. If Felix was here he’d hold you close and smile away the doubts, he’d remind you that as long as he loves you there’ll be beach days and good friends, oceans and laughter. If Felix was here, you wouldn’t be so sad, but you can’t seem to find him.  

You’ve always been adept at the blues, wearing your sadness like it was a career rather than a fleeting feeling. Anxiety pooling in your belly like a sick desire for the worst to come, worries tickling your tongue, and pounding through your brain. The feeling eating at you now is one your know well–it’s the sinking acknowledgment of time moving, the melody of birthdays and holidays past, a happiness that is so diluted with sadness that the joy barely exists. 

It's hard to explain why blue skies and your friend's voices make you sad, maybe it’s the tide turning… A siren song reminding you to hold them close. You wish you could find your boy, bury the listless worries into his chest, and rise again clear headed. 

Countless minutes have passed by, just staring at the water, watching the waves pull in and ease itself back out. Breathing in and out in time with the tide, one with the living sea. 

You hear him before you see him, the quick steps through the sand and his deep breath alerting you to his presence. The one person you wanted to see, staring at you like it's not your heart he’s made a home out of, like you’re just a pretty girl he wants to take a bite out of. 

He’s devastating to look at, gorgeous and dreamy like a prince out of a storybook. A boy so beautiful he must’ve been born from the sun; radiant and blinding, and somehow he belongs to you. 

The stars are peeking over the waves now, blinking down at you like his eyes when he first wakes up; the friendliest constellations you’ve ever seen. 

“What’ya doing all the way out here?” his voice, brings a warm pool of light to sit in your gut. Oh how special this boy is.

“Nothing, just needed a couple seconds to myself.” you say. 

“Does that mean you want me to go?” 

“Never.” 

Felix’s eyes, impish and fairylike, are alight with mischief. He’s looking at you like he’ll trick you and tease you and make you fall in love with him before the sun comes up, as if you weren’t already. His body hasn’t moved an inch, made no move to touch you, yet the way his gaze rakes over you mirrors all the times he’s felt your skin before. You can almost feel him, wrapping his hands around you and settling his rosebud smile down your neck. 

With catlike grace, he moves closer, settling himself down next to you in the sand, and still he won’t touch you. 

“Did you get sad again, Honey?” he’s slightly slurring, sliding one word into the next, but the warmth in his voice pierces your heart. You’re not sure how to answer, was it sadness? Really you think you missed him, yearned for his company in such a silly way that sucked all the happiness out of your lungs; took too many shots of nostalgia without his hand to hold and had to sit down. 

“Just a little, but it’s better now that you’re with me.” 

“My love, I’m always with you.” 

You’re shocked, not for the first time, at the casual way he confesses his love to you. Speaking words of romance as easily as muttering off a grocery list–It’s the sincerity that gets you, the full body awareness that this is the truth.

 At once, your arms slide over his shoulders and rest against his neck; breathing in the assurance that his scent gives. He responds in seconds, so fast you think this is what he’s been waiting for–waiting to touch you until you grasped for him. His hold is tight andeverything you’ve ever wanted, and his heart is beating so fast. 

In his kiss is every wish you’ve ever made, safe and seductive all at once. 

“I love you so much” murmured in between kisses, and you don’t know who says them. All you know is the feel of his lips on your skin–the spellbinding way he unspools you, untangling anything else but him from your mind. 

There's no way you can go back to the party after this, covered in sand and kisses; drunk on Felix and his liquid courage, yet no part of you longs for home. You would stay like this, breathing his air and warming his bones. 

If you had forever, every day would be like this–in love and dreaming into him. If you had forever you’d double not his veins to yours and live inside his skin… If you had forever, every moment would be this kiss. 

Yet time keeps moving, and eventually the sand cools and the music is turned down. Felix moves away, close enough his nose swipes against yours, but far enough you can’t catch his grin. He’s smiling that perfect smile, the one that sinks ships in your belly and brings home to your heart. 

“Should we go home, My love?” he asks.

And who are you to refuse him?

LUVTAK © 2023

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Goin on a holiday together during the summer break for Toto Wolff with wife reader fit their son, Jack. Thanks!! :))

Summer break has finally arrived, and this year, your family chose the beautiful island of Menorca for a much-anticipated beach trip. You had been craving the salty air and the gentle waves for a while, and when you suggested it, Jack was on board immediately. Toto, ever supportive and loving, would agree to go anywhere if it made you happy. That's how you found yourself on a luxurious yacht, gently rocking in the azure waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

You couldn't ask for anything better. The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of your cozy cabin, casting a warm glow over the room. The soothing sounds of the ocean were a perfect backdrop to your perfect morning. Toto's strong arm was draped around you, holding you close.

"Good morning, liebling," Toto's raspy morning voice whispered as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"Morning, love," you replied, snuggling closer. "Do you want to get ready or stay like this a little longer?"

"I wish I could stay like this forever, with you in my arms," Toto murmured, his lips trailing soft kisses along your neck, making you smile. Just as his kisses became more insistent, you were interrupted by excited shouts from the other side of the door.

"Mom, Dad! I want to go swimming!" Jack's voice rang out, full of energy.

You sighed with a smile, glancing at Toto. "I guess the cuddling will have to wait," you said, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed.

Toto chuckled, stretching before following you out of the room. "We'll continue later," he promised with a wink.

You found Jack practically bouncing with excitement in the living area. "We'll swim in a while, but first, we need to have breakfast and a lot of sunscreens," you said, trying to match his enthusiasm.

"I want pancakes!" Jack declared, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"Then you'll have pancakes," you replied, ruffling his hair. "Let's get cooking."

In the yacht's kitchen, you gathered the ingredients for pancakes. Toto joined you, his presence reassuring and comforting. As you mixed the batter, he stood behind you, his hands resting on your hips, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Do you need any help, liebling?" he asked, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"Yes, you can help by keeping me company," you teased, leaning back into him.

Jack's chatter filled the space, his excitement contagious as he talked about the fish he hoped to see later. You couldn't help but smile at his joy, feeling grateful for these precious moments.

When the pancakes were ready, you all sat down to eat. The scent of freshly cooked pancakes filled the air, mingling with the salty sea breeze. Jack dug in and Toto made sure your plate was never empty, his affection evident in every small gesture.

After breakfast, it was time to get ready for swimming. You found Jack's swimsuit and helped him into it, applying a generous amount of sunscreen to his fair skin. "We don't want you getting sunburned, buddy," you said, smiling as he wriggled under the cool touch of the lotion.

Toto, already in his swim trunks, looked effortlessly handsome. He helped you apply sunscreen, his touch gentle and loving. "My turn," he said, taking the bottle from you and smoothing the lotion over your back. You closed your eyes, enjoying the intimacy of the moment.

Once everyone was ready, you headed out to the deck. The water was a stunning shade of blue, inviting and calm. Jack could barely contain his excitement, bouncing on his toes as he waited for the go-ahead to jump in.

"Alright, Jack, go for it!" Toto said, and with a whoop of joy, Jack leaped into the water, creating a big splash.

You and Toto joined him, the cool water a refreshing contrast to the warm sun. Jack's laughter echoed around you as he swam, pointing out the colorful fish darting beneath the surface. "Look, Mom, Dad! There's so many of them!"

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" you replied, smiling as you watched Jack's eyes light up with wonder.

Toto pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as you both floated, watching Jack explore. "This is perfect," he whispered in your ear. "I couldn't ask for anything more."

You turned to look at him, your heart swelling with love. "Me neither," you replied, kissing him softly. The world around you faded away for a moment, leaving only the two of you in your perfect bubble of happiness.

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and joy. You and Toto took turns swimming with Jack, helping him find shells and pointing out different kinds of fish. When you got tired, you all floated on your backs, holding hands and feeling the gentle rocking of the waves.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you all headed back to the yacht. Jack was exhausted but happy, his eyes drooping as you wrapped him in a towel. "I had the best day," he said sleepily.

"So did we," you replied, kissing his forehead.

Once Jack was tucked into bed, you and Toto sat on the deck, watching the stars appear one by one in the night sky. He held you close, his arm around your shoulders. "Thank you for today," he said softly.

"Thank you," you replied, leaning into him. "For everything."

You stayed like that for a long time, savouring the peace and the love that surrounded you. The gentle lapping of the waves against the yacht, the distant sound of the sea, and the warmth of Toto's embrace made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

[unholly-reader]

I will choose you for the rest of our life - Daemon Targaryen x f!OC!

Hello lovely people!

Daemon's charm has once again struck and so here is some well deserved Daemond fluff. I apologize in advance for any accidents caused by swooning over our favourite Rogue Prince.

Once again - English is NOT my first language!

Enjoy, my dragon lovers!

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

It was still a warm summer evening when Alanna returned from her journeys beyond the City limits where she accompanied Rhaenyra waiting in the prince on the ground while she took Syrax for a ride. It was a pleasant enough afternoon considering the Princess had a terrible fight with the King about her marriage prospects and the reality of spending a life with somebody which happened to be his favorite subject as of late. Unfortunately, Rhaenyra did not share her father's sentiments and was adamant on remaining unwed. The topic brought many a disagreement between the King and his named Heir, however the love they both shared remained unquestionable. It was clear for Alanna as well as everyone in Court that the day Rhaenyra decides to marry would be the day the nonsense arguments will end but until then the eldest Lady Hightower took vigilant care of the Princess keeping her company and advising if necessary.

- I must say Princess, it will never cease to amaze me how truly united you and Syrax are. It's as if you're two bodies and one soul - said Alanna, dismounting her horse after reaching the royal stables. Rhaenyra chuckled lightly, jumping off her golden mare with ease and smiling to her companion.

- I wish you could know how it feels, Aunt Alanna. The bond between a dragon and its rider is second to none, truly.

- I am quite content seeing you with Syrax, sweet girl. It brings me so much joy to see you smile, especially after rough mornings such as today.

Rhaenyra nodded gratefully at Alanna, walking towards her with a gentle, but saddened smile.

- I am so very thankful to have you here, Aunt Alanna. I don't what I would have done if your father had sent to Old Town.

- Luckily, we don't have to find that out. Now come, you must eat something and above all you need a long bath. You stink of dragon - laughed Alanna, putting her arm over the Princess's shoulders.

Rhaenyra joined her in laughter as they made their way towards the Keep when the gates opened themselves to reveal Ser Harrold Westerling approaching both ladies. Quickly he descended the stairs and walked to them, bowing dutifully.

- My Princess. My Lady. The King requires your presence in the throne room.

Rhaenyra sighed heavily, taking her gloves off.

- By Gods, we have only argued this morning. Can't whatever my father needs from me wait until tomorrow?

The commander bowed his head once again, looking at the Heir apologetically.

- Pardon me, Princess, but the King has asked for the Lady Alanna.

It was now Alanna's turn to snap her head to Ser Harrold in surprise. She glanced at Rhaenyra, shock painted on her face.

- Me? Whatever for?

- I couldn't say, My Lady. He only requested that you come down to the throne room and that the matter is urgent.

Lady Hightower nodded politely, turning to face Rhaenyra and put her hands on the girls shoulders.

- We shall meet for dinner, sweet girl. You go wash off that stench of yourself and I will come see you later.

Rhaenyra hesitated but eventually she kissed Alanna's cheek and walked on towards her chambers.

- Ser Harrold.

- Princess.

Alanna watched as the girl disappeared behind the doors and then turned her gaze to the knight. Ser Harrold held his arm out as if to invite the woman to walk with him, bowing his head slightly.

- If you please, My Lady.

The woman followed his direction in silence, entering the Red Keep and moving to the corridors leading straight to the throne room. The inside od the castle were brightly lit by many torches and candles surrounding the place, but here and there the setting sun crept inside the Keep's walls. Alanna held her skirt in one palm as the train of her dark blue gown swept the floors behind her, while she quietly walked by Ser Harrold's side. It was a short walk as they reached the throne room soon enough. Ser Harrold had the guards open the doors and he led Alanna inside, where the King sat upon his throne all by himself.

- Lady Alanna Hightower, Your Grace - announced Ser Harrold as Alanna stepped into the light, standing atop the stairs.

- Thank you, Ser Harrold. You may take your leave now - replied Viserys, waving his hand at the knight. The Lord Commander bowed and swiftly left the room, leaving the King and his sister by law alone.

- Please, do come in, Lady Alanna.

Suspecting nothing of the foul means Alanna descended down the stairs and walked up to the King, curtsying before the monarch with a polite bow of her head.

- Your Grace - she said respectfully, straightening her posture and looking at Viserys with a gentle smile - I do not mean any disrespect, Your Grace, but is there a particular reason why you asked to see me?

- Are you happy here, My Lady?

- Pardon me, Your Grace? - asked Alanna, baffled by the King's question.

And so Viserys repeated his query.

- I asked if you are happy here, in the Capital?

Alanna smiled bashfully, not quite sure what to say to that unusual question.

- I am quite happy, Your Grace. Spending my time with the Princess and my sister, the Queen is all I could ever ask for. I am truly grateful to you for allowing me to stay at Court.

- And what of your marriage prospects, my dear? Has there been any word from your father in that matter?

This question baffled Alanna even more so than the first one. She smiled politely at the King, trying to uphold the unsuspecting demeanor while in reality she kept wondering about where this conversation was leading.

- I could not say, Your Grace. My father has not been the most attentive towards me ever since my sister became the Queen. I believe it is the matters of the realm and those of your bedchambers that concern him more than myself, Your Grace.

Alanna did not register what words left her mouth until the moment they left it. It took her only a few second to realize what she ghat just said to her King and how disrespectful it was towards him and her father. Not to mention how unladylike this behavior was. Quickly she bowed her head, staring at the tips of her shoes peeking from underneath her dark blue dress, praying that the King would not feel insulted by her choice of words.

- Your Grace, I apologize. I meant no insult either to you or my father. I seem to have forgotten to hold my tongue.

Instead of hearing the angry King reprimand her, she heard a mere laugh. When she looked up, she saw the King smiling, almost grinning like a fool and laughing as if she had just told him something incredibly funny. It was a rare sight to see Viserys this joyful, especially since it has been a tough couple of days for him and his eldest daughter.

- You Grace?

The King’s laughter slowly died down as he walked up to Alanna, gently raising his hand to hold her chin up. Staring into the King’s lilac eyes she was reminded of her lover’s eyes, so bright and pure in the light of the setting sun.

- I could not see it before, but I do now - said Viserys with a thoughtful smile - You share the same spirit, but you also possess the fierceness to tame him.

Somehow Alanna knew he was speaking of Daemon, but she would not let it be known to the King. Without shifting her demeanor she continued acting clueless and unaware.

- I do not know what it is you are speaking of, Your Grace.

- I have been told that there were numerous occasions you were seen with my brother and you seemed to have been thoroughly enjoying his company. Is this true?

Alanna froze in place. She didn't know how to answer this, whether to tell the truth or keep on lying. It has been like a thorn at her side, not being able to stand by Daemon, speak with him, touch is hand. It would be risky to reveal her true feelings, especially to the King, but something was telling her it was the right thing to do. So she did it.

- It is true, Your Grace - answered Alanna, holding the King's gaze proudly.

It wasn't defiance or arrogance, but there was something that Viserys saw in her eyes in that moment. Like she had made a choice to stop hiding. There was this indescribable spark in her blue orbs, something the King could not quite put his finger on but he knew that may very well have been the reason his brother fell for this young lady. Gently he let his hand fall down, still holding her gaze with a kind smile.

- If you were given the choice to marry whom you desire, who would be your chosen husband?

This time Alanna did not falter nor did she hesitate. She wasn't sure what the game Viserys played with her was, but she somehow didn't care about the consequences. He was her King and she owed him her loyalty, and above all else - her truth.

- Daemon.

Her answer was loud and clear, no doubt in her voice or in her eyes and only a fool wouldn't see it. The King was no fool.

- Do you love my brother, Lady Alanna?

- With everything I am today and everything I ever hope to become.

Viserys did not expect such honesty. He knew only what Daemon had told him of his feelings for his sister by law, but it came as a surprise to the King to learn of her devotion towards his brother. She stood there with her head held high, eyes staring into the King's lilac orbs with no fear. Viserys hummed to himself, taking a few steps back and turning away to face the throne. He contemplated the circumstances while Alanna awaited her verdict. As it turned out patience seemed to have run thin within her mind as she spoke up, grabbing Viserys's attention.

- I do not know why it would matter to you, Your Grace, but whatever you may think of your brother, he is who my soul longs for - said Alanna, smiling dreamily like a little girl - I could never forget him or abandon him and no matter how many times he is exiled from Court, I will always await his return if only to gaze upon his face. He is my reason and my sanity and I am certain nothing could ever change that.

The King turned around swiftly, looking at his sister by law as if he saw her for the first time. Her eyes were glimmering like the night sky lit by showers of shooting stars. Her face was almost glowing as if the love she had for his brother illuminated her features. Viserys only ever witnessed this kind of devotion twice. The first was the love he was born from, the one that united his father, Prince Baelon with his mother, Princess Alyssa. Although blurry and somewhat worn-away, memories of the love his parents shared was imprinted on his mind, daily reminding him of what is supposed to matter to him most. His family.

The second time he witnessed this type of love was when he met Aemma. Even though they didn't fall for one another at first sight, she had made him the man he became, the King he grew up to be. Choosing his heir over her life would always be his worst nightmare, haunting him each and every night. Despite the tragic ending he knew he was truly loved and loved truly in return. Much like Alanna seemed to love his brother and from what the King could tell, Daemon loved her just as much.

- And is Lady Alanna the wife you would choose, brother? - asked Viserys, still looking at his good-sister.

Alanna felt her heart stop in her chest as Daemon emerged out of the shadows behind the Iron Throne. He was wearing his dark grey breeches and white linen shirt, his short hair ruffled as if he had just woken up but in her eyes he never looked more handsome. And she could swear he never looked at her with so much emotion in his eyes ever before.

- I would choose her now and every day for the rest of my life.

As Daemon approached the King and his beloved, Alanna could not mutter a single word. She was too stunned to speak. The Rogue Prince walked towards her but stopped beside his brother, never taking his eyes off his beloved. Viserys glanced at Daemon and then faced Alanna with a kind smile on his face, feeling his heart fill up with joy. Looking at the two of them he knew there was only one right thing to do.

- The day I married Alicent, you became my good sister and since then not a day has passed that you wouldn't serve me with your good word or the actions of your kind heart. In all this time I never thought to thank you for all that you have done for my family, for my daughter in the absence of her late mother, but maybe now I will repay my debt - said the King, taking her hand in his, at the same time grabbing Daemon's hand as well and joining them together.

Alanna felt tears gathering in her eyes as she looked at Daemon and their joined hands. When Viserys stepped back, his younger brother took a hold of Alanna's palm in both his hands, going down on one knee before her.

- I will choose you every day for the rest of our lives, my light. If you'll have me - spoke Daemon, gently caressing her hand.

The Lady Hightower was at a loss for words. She felt all her emotions go on a rampage as she looked down at the love of her life asking her to be his for eternity. She could not believe it was real, but somehow she knew it was. She had him right there at the grasp of her hands and all she had to do was say "yes". Instaed of saying anything, Alanna kneeled before him, putting her hand over his grasping her other palm and brought them to her lips. She looked up in his lilac eyes, so true and loving she could fall apart right there and then, and simply said the words.

- And I will choose you for the rest of our life, my love. Just like I choose you today.

[grapejuicestyless]

Can You See Right Through Me?

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summery: You, Belly and Stevens older sister, realize that as everyone grows older, you have become less and less important. Suddenly, everything you’ve never felt comes crashing at you.

The past summer and every single one before that had led me to this moment now. Standing alone in an empty room in the dark while everyone else ventured off to a bonfire.

It was like a switch had went off in my brain, coming down here this summer. Everything I knew becoming wrong. Everything I was so sure of becoming the unknown.

I thought I knew everything, but I knew nothing. I was wrong about everything.

The way Jeremiah’s eyes carried a special sparkle as my sister and brother piled out of the car in front of me. His lips curled into that same pearly white smile and his eyes crinkling in the corners like always. His wrinkles a permanent tattoo of his life and his happiness that he carried with him.

I knew Belly was pretty. She always had been. I’d been the one to express that to her. Being her older sister, even by only a couple years, I could see it far before anyone else could. I could see how gorgeous my little sister was with her long brown hair and her contagious laughter. She would grow into herself, I promised her that and I couldn’t have been happier watching as she found that new confidence in her appearance the older she grew.

Still, the joy I felt for her could not overpower the sting that settled in my chest the moment I realized that Jeremiah’s warm welcome was not directed towards me like all the years before. His eyes drawn to Belly. The newer, prettier Conklin. The youngest, the most at ease with her surroundings. The one who took everything with a grain of salt.

And suddenly it made sense. If I was the stars in his eyes, then Belly was the sun. The bigger, brighter star. How could this boyish ray of sunshine fall for the more mellow sister when he had his perfect reflection right in front of him?

Realizing that was what caused the downward spiral, I think. That was the turning point and suddenly the switch went off.

I wasn’t ugly, I knew that. I once had a few boyfriends back home, all of which took great interest in me, but all of which never stuck. And it was obvious as to why. My head knew it would be good to try something new, but my heart was suffocating in the love I had felt for Jeremiah. I couldn’t love someone else if my heart belonged to another.

Only, Jeremiah’s heart belonged to Belly. It was obvious. The way they laughed. The way they talked. The way they touched. I wanted him to touch me like that. I wanted his arm slung around my shoulders and I wanted his hand resting on my thigh. I wanted him to whisper his secrets into my ears again. I wanted all of it, while Belly treated it like a chore.

Like she was bored by the constant affection and the strong attraction they had for one another. Yet, even with the heaviness in my heart, and the bitterness at the tip of my tongue, I wasn’t the one he was holding down on the beach. And that could never be me. I was the sister standing in my room back at the summer home, a bikini tied around my chest as a top, jean shorts hanging low on my hips while her fingers pulled at the skin on her stomach and pushed against her stomach to make it impossibly flatter.

A routine I’d developed since the beginning of summer. Sleeping in later, staying up longer. Skipping meals by accident and curling up as small as I could while everyone else ate dinner. It was almost as if I didn’t exist. And maybe I didn’t because it seemed like nobody cared.

That was my greatest fear. What started as a minor jealousy and a spiral of undiscovered insecurities morphed into a pool of fear. Not for how I looked, but for who I was. Now that everyone was growing up, now that Conrad and I were going off to college, would anyone still need me? Belly was confident now, she didn’t need my pep talks. My mom had her best friend and Jeremiah had Belly. Nobody needed me. Nobody cared.

Knock, knock.

Or I thought nobody cared.

“Hey, Conklin?” The voice was quiet, afraid to pierce the peacefulness of the silence.

My hands slipped away from my body, my posture straightening and my eyes making friends with the ground.

“Oh, hey. Aren’t you supposed to be at that bonfire with the others?” I didn’t make a point to turn around, staying stuck in place. “I didn’t want to be there.” He confessed.

“Oh.” His eyes caught mine in the mirror. Body leaning against the doorframe and hands playing with his tied hoodie strings.

“Besides, it’s boring without you there, you know? Don’t really enjoy being there without my beer pong partner.” We laughed, my eyes averting his quickly while it died down back to a comfortable silence.

Footsteps treaded across the furnished wood floors, socks padding carefully, closer.

“Hey.” The call was gentle and not in the slightest bit pushy or pressured.

I bit my lip, feeling suddenly naked with Conrad so close. My arms came to wrap around my torso like a blanket to shield my most vulnerable parts of myself.

“Hey, no. Come one y/n. Don’t do that. Don’t hide.” His hands found mine, covering them in his warmth, pulling away at each finger that dug into my skin slowly. Pulling off that divider I’d placed between us.

His head found my shoulder. His chin tucked comfortably on top of my shoulder blade, his arms hugging around my body, loosely, but enough to relay that he was there. He was close.

“What’s going on with you?” I felt his eyes looking at me, even from the floor. I shook my head.

“Nothing.” I lied through my teeth.

“I know you better than that, Y/n. You’re my best friend.” I nodded, feeling the tears piling on my waterline until everything was a watercolor version of itself.

“You avoid everyone but the moms and me. You don’t surf in the mornings anymore. You skip dinner to go be by yourself some more. You’re dropping weight scarcely quick. This isn’t like you. Something’s bugging you. Why can’t you just let me in?” My response wasn’t something I planned. His confession something I wasn’t prepared for. The low gravel of the mumbles. So quiet and normal that it was like he never even said it. But I knew he had because there he was, looking over my shoulder to watch me through the mirror. Admiring each part of what I had to offer like it was gold. How could I have been so blind to how much Conrad cared? How his touches lingered longer than before, how he cared for me like Jeremiah once did.

A sob wracked through my body, lips parting and chest heaving as I crumbled beneath his touch. My hands grasped onto his arms, clawing at him in panic. Trying to hold onto him. He let me hold onto him.

He lowered us slowly to the ground, his breath fanning off of my face and his body giving mine a home as I curled up impossibly close to him. Still it wasn’t enough. I needed to be closer, to not be alone. To not feel like the world was constantly out of reach.

It was beyond Jeremiah and Belly. It always had been. It had only been my wake up call to how quickly things were moving and how soon I would be unimportant. How soon I would be alone.

Conrad didn’t try to shush me, or talk to me. It was like a silent conversation, confirming all his suspicions. He always knew me better than myself. He always knew there was something wrong deep down. He always saw right through me.

I saw right through me.

It was hard to tell when the tears stopped and turned into dried out cries muffled into the collar of his shirt. Who knows how long ago I became dehydrated. But Conrad stayed put, sitting with me silently until my last cry came out in a soft sniffle.

Lifting my head, I looked to him, a mess. And I saw he was crying too. His eyes were just as wet as mine and his cheeks streaked with past tears. His lip didn’t quiver like mine, but Conrad was always better at holding it together.

So, he didn’t sob like me. No, instead of breaking down like I had when our eyes met, he pulled me in. And he didn’t let me go no matter how hard I squirmed. It was like he breathed me in. And suddenly, in the moment of silence, I heard a whisper against my hair. Only a short sentence, but one that meant everything. One that made me feel less alone as I realized Conrad felt the same way.

“Help me hold onto you.” He begged.

And suddenly, everything I was insecure of, everything that I had let slip, seemed unimportant compared to the boy on his knees for me.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Barbecue

pairing: No Apocalypse Joel Miller x Fem! Pregnant Wife reader

summary: the miller family has gathered their family and friends to have a barbecue

The summer sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the Miller household. Joel and Y/N had been preparing for this barbecue for weeks, wanting everything to be perfect for their family and friends. The scent of grilled burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of loved ones gathered in their backyard.

Ellie and Sarah were running around the living room when the doorbell rang. They sprinted to the door, flinging it open to reveal their grandparents.

"Grandpa! Granny!" Ellie shouted, launching herself into Joel's parents' arms.

"MawMaw! Pawpaw!" Sarah followed, hugging Y/N's parents tightly.

Joel and Y/N's parents laughed, enveloping the girls in warm embraces. Joel's mom knelt down to their level. "Look at you two! Getting bigger every time we see you."

Y/N's mom gave Sarah a gentle squeeze. "How are our favorite girls doing?"

As the grandparents fussed over the girls, Joel and Y/N exchanged smiles. Joel's dad straightened up and looked at his son and daughter-in-law. "You two have done a wonderful job with this place. It's beautiful."

Y/N's dad nodded in agreement. "And how's our expecting mom doing? How close are you to being due?"

Y/N rubbed her belly, smiling warmly. "About three more months to go."

Joel's mom stepped forward, eyes twinkling. "Mind if we give the baby a little hello?"

Y/N laughed softly. "Of course not."

Both grandmothers gently placed their hands on Y/N's belly, their faces lighting up. "This is Granny here," Joel's mom said. "We can't wait for you to be here."

Y/N's mom added, "And this is Mawmaw. We're all so excited to meet you."

Ellie and Sarah watched in awe as their grandparents talked to the baby, their excitement palpable. Joel placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder, feeling a wave of love and gratitude for the family surrounding them.

"Need any help, hon?" Joel's mom asked, turning to Y/N.

"I'm alright, thank you," Y/N replied, placing a hand on her belly. "Just making sure everything's set up."

Joel's dad chuckled, "You kids have outdone yourselves. This is quite the spread."

Tommy and Maria arrived shortly after, their little one toddling around, trying to keep up with the older kids. Joel manned the grill, flipping burgers with practiced ease, while Y/N set the table with a spread of side dishes and drinks.

As the evening wore on, everyone settled down to eat. Joel made sure Y/N had a comfortable seat and plenty of food, fussing over her until she playfully swatted his hand away.

"Joel, I'm fine. Go eat," she laughed.

He kissed her cheek and went to join the others. The conversations flowed easily, filled with laughter and the occasional clink of glasses. Joel looked around, feeling a deep sense of contentment. This was what he had always wanted a loving family, good friends, and a home filled with joy.

At one point, Y/N started fanning herself with a paper plate, the heat of the southern summer getting to her. Joel noticed and quickly turned on the fan for her.

"Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were hot?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

Y/N smiled, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Honey, we live in the South, and it’s 90° outside. I’m pretty sure everyone’s hot. But thank you, baby."

Joel grinned, kissing her on the cheek. "Anything for you."

As the night drew to a close and the last of their guests departed, Joel and Y/N saw their daughters off to bed. Ellie and Sarah were exhausted from all the excitement, and they fell asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

Joel returned to the living room, finding Y/N on the couch, her feet propped up. He sat down beside her, his hand instinctively going to her belly. He rubbed it gently, feeling the baby move beneath his touch.

"How's our little one doing?" he asked softly.

"Active," Y/N replied with a smile. "I think they enjoyed all the excitement today."

Joel leaned down, pressing kisses all over her belly. "Hey there, baby. Did you have a good time? We can't wait to meet you."

Y/N watched him, her heart swelling with love. "You're going to be an amazing dad again."

Joel looked up at her, his eyes filled with emotion. "And you're going to be an incredible mom. Again."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Joel's hands never leaving her belly. He continued to rub and kiss it, whispering sweet nothings to their unborn child. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, feeling completely at peace.

"I love you, Joel," she murmured.

"I love you too, Y/N," he replied, kissing her forehead. "More than you'll ever know."

As they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, with their growing family by their side.

[dvzaiosamu]

𓇼 SUMMERTIME JOY | chuuya nakahara. A little one-shot where you and Chuuya are on the beach enjoying everything. As simple as that! It may not be very long, but I hope you like it.

Hello everyone! It's been a long time since I logged in to write something. As I just took my summer vacation, I want to wish everyone a happy summer and enjoy it. These days I had no motivation to write and I left everything half done in my drafts. But now I'll try to make the effort to write something!

The sun in the sky looked like a colored drawing, even childish if you looked at it another way.

It was summer and damn right it felt like summer. You felt the sand between your feet, warm to the touch. A bikini and a beach hat. Everything was perfect and like a vacation away from everything, disconnecting and sharing emotions with the sea.

Underneath was a beach towel and a hammock tied to two trees. Next to it you had a frozen box with multiple foods and refreshing drinks as well as a bag with sunscreen and so on.

And your husband is there too.

At your side is Chuuya, who has taken the vacation very personally. There he is lying in a hammock that is tied to two trees, cocktail in his hand. Black sunglasses on his head, bare skin with a thin open jacket on top, beach shorts and some flip flops lying around.

"Hey, Chuuya... Do you remember when we were still little and we always came to this beach?" you find yourself asking.

"Of course I remember, you were a disaster," he smiles. "Why do you ask?"

"Well...do you remember when we ran into the water to take a dip?" you continue. "I wonder if instead of staying here in the sun, we'd go there to… you know."

"If my beautiful wife says so, I don't have a big problem," leaving his finished cocktail on the sand, he stands next to you. "Come on."

Walking with him towards the seashore, smiling like you've never done before, you feel a disconnection from the outside world, not worrying about work, enjoying a good vacation.

You were thinking, and you feel arms lift you up, bridal style. You laugh at Chuuya's expression, one of determination and like he was so focused on getting you to the water, it seemed like his face expressed a lot of effort.

"The water is freezing... Don't you think you should let me get used to it?" you say, feeling the water cover your knees.

"The only thing you have to get used to is that tonight we are going to celebrate our vacation in a house that I bought for this vacation," he responds, leaving you in the water, where you can still touch the sand with your feet.

"What a gentleman you are."

"For you I can be anything—"

A palm of water is thrown at Chuuya's face, wetting his hair.

"Take that!"

"What was that for!" complains Chuuya.

"Nothing really! Just making this more fun for the two of us," you laugh like a child.

"Oh yeah?" he splashes water all over you. "Then this is a sweet revange."

"Ack— c'mon! Not salt in the eyes!" you whine.

Well. What a vacation. Is this what humans call to be happy with one's lover? I believe it is.

Do you know the worst? I had written all of this before, it didn't save when I accidentally clicked on a notification and I had to rewrite it entirely. But hey, although this one didn't turn out the best, and it's a bit short, maybe incoherent, at least I hope it's something for my dear followers :3

[newobsessionweekly]

HIII This is my first time asking

Can you write one shot with Buck? By that I Mean where's reader is pregnant, like how they started thinking about child, them telling 118 and Maddie, thinking about name(girl) and first kicking, time when he is touching her bump and when she is finally here I'm sorry if its to much. And sorry for all the mistake english isn't my first language

I've been thinking

Main masterlist | 9-1-1 masterlist

Dreams series

Part 1 | Part 2

Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

Fandom:911

Summary: You and Buck consider starting a family together.

Fluff

A/n: Thank you for the request, bub! It’s gonna be a series of all the stages, I hope you’re gonna like it! Also, sorry! It took a bit longer than I expected, working is really sucking every bit of energy out of my body!

Requested: yes

Words: 1.4k

Requests are open for Buck / Eddie!

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

As you walk into Bobby and Athena's house, the laughter and chatter fill the air. It's a lively party, with children running around and adults catching up with one another. Buck takes your hand, leading you through the crowd, as you greet familiar faces and exchange warm smiles.

You settle down outside, letting the sun kiss your face, enjoying the summer day as Maddie and Chimney made their way, sending hugs here and there. Maddie's eyes are sparkling with excitement, and she can barely contain her joy. Buck kissed the top of your head, joining Bobby and Eddie as the girls gathered around you.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” you teased Maddie, as her cheeks turned red. “Where’s my favourite niece?”

“Oh, she’s over there with Howie.” Maddie pointed to where the boys were standing, making a circle around Jee-Yun as she ran between their legs, handing herself onto Buck’s.

You heard congratulation words coming from the boys, some patting Chim on his shoulder, some giving him hugs. Buck just stood there with a funny repulsion written over his face and everyone laughed at his words, making you frown even more.

“So girl, you’re gonna tell us why you’re so cheerful about or we should share our guesses?” Athena’s gaze shifted from Maddie to where the boys were, lightly chuckling when your boyfriend made his way to you.

“Well, me and Howie—“

“It’s so disgusting hearing people telling around they’re trying for a baby. Like yeah, congratulations, you’re having sex, but just don’t make a big deal out of it!” Buck was babbling around, interrupting his sister, and you just couldn’t hold your laugh at him scrunching his face in dislike.

“What’s the matter with you?” you caressed his hand when he landed on your chair handle.

“It’s annoying hearing Chimney talk about trying for another baby. I don’t want to picture my sister and Chimney having sex! Now I can’t get that image out of my mind!” Buck’s words made the girls laugh and after the realisation hit, all of you gave Maddie questioning looks.

“Yeah, thank you Evan for making the announcement!” Mads frowned at Buck, innocence playing on his eyes as he raised his arms in defence. “Me and Howie are trying for baby number two!” she announces, her voice filled with excitement.

The back yard erupts with laughter and cheers, and you find yourself clapping and smiling along with everyone else. But as the cheers die down, a thought creeps into your mind, and you glance over at Buck, who seems lost in his own thoughts.

Maddie notices your quiet demeanor and turns to you and Buck, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What about you two?" she asks, her voice filled with interest. "Waiting for baby Buckley to play around here some day."

Buck's gaze shifts from Maddie to you, and you catch a flicker of longing in his eyes. It's a question that has been hovering unspoken between the two of you for a while. Your heart skips at the thought of having Buck’s child.

You take a deep breath, suddenly feeling vulnerable yet hopeful. "Maybe some day." you say softly, intertwining your fingers with Buck's.

As the conversation continues around you, your mind starts to race with possibilities. You think about the future, about the joy and challenges that come with parenthood. The thought of sharing that journey with Buck fills you with a sense of love and anticipation.

Buck's attention turned to Christopher, who was playing around with Danny, his contagious laughter filling the air. A mischievous grin formed on Buck's face, and he couldn't resist joining in on the fun. They played tag, engaged in an imaginary battle against imaginary villains, and Buck even gave Christopher a piggyback ride, both of them bursting into fits of giggles.

While watching Buck and Christopher, Eddie joins you on the couch, with a warm smile playing on his face. He leaned in slightly, his voice softening. "You know, you and Buck would make incredible parents," Eddie remarked, his words laced with sincerity. "I've seen how you both care for Christopher and the rest of the team. You have so much love to give."

His words touch your soul, and you nod gratefully. "Thank you, Eddie. It means a lot to hear that from you."

“What are best friends for?” he noticed your lost expression, embracing you with warmth and a kind of love only Eddie was able to bring into your life. It was a big brother’s love, one saying he cares about you a lot and his heart aches whenever your smile is missing from your beautiful face.

His words resonated with you, reinforcing the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind since the conversation had begun. The idea of starting a family with Buck had always been a distant notion, but now it felt tangible, within reach. The mere thought of sharing such a profound connection with him filled you with excitement and warmth.

As the day drew to a close and the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself nestled in Buck's embrace, watching the stars emerge one by one. The gentle breeze carried with it a sense of serenity, and it seemed as if the universe was aligning to grant your unspoken desires.

Buck’s apartment is filled with a warm and inviting atmosphere that always seems to surround him; a mix of modern furniture and personal touches, reflecting Buck's adventurous spirit. The walls are adorned with photographs capturing his countless adventures and the sweetest memories the two of you share.

As you settle on the cozy couch, a sense of comfort washes over you, amplified by Buck's presence. You were tired, all you wanted to do was to lay in his arms, the calming movement of his chest raising and slowly making its way down with every breath drifting you off to sleep. But something feels different in the air and your tiredness is not it.

Buck glances at you with a mischievous smile, his hazel eyes sparkling with a hint of excitement. You notice his playful demeanor, sensing there's something he's been pondering.

"You know," Buck begins, his voice gentle yet filled with anticipation, "I've been thinking a lot lately."

“Oh, you thinking? That can’t be good!” you teased, trying so hard to keep the laughter from coming out of your mouth as his fingers made their way up and down your body in Buck’s attempt of tickling you.

“Now, seriously.” he cleared his throat and his blue eyes scanned your face. Tears forming in your eyes from all the laughter, a beautiful smile reached your eyes that you couldn’t keep under control and cheeks painted with the same pink as your lips. “Everyone around us have families, babies. We’re the only one left.”

His words hang in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless, but as you observe Buck's hopeful gaze, you realize he's being completely serious.

As a rush of emotions flood over you, you search within yourself to find your own truth. Thoughts of Buck as a father flicker through your mind, and you can't help but smile. He has always been compassionate, caring, and fiercely protective of those he loves. His determination to make the world a better place for others is a testament to the kind of father he could be.

Buck notices your smile and takes it as a positive sign. His enthusiasm grows, and he continues, "I know it's a big decision, and we'll have to figure out the logistics, but I can't imagine a better person to be the mother of my kids."

His words stir a sense of warmth in your heart, and you find yourself imagining a future where you and Buck navigate parenthood together, supporting each other through the ups and downs.

“I-uh… I’ve been thinking about it lately.” you confessed, playing with his hair as his head rested on your lap. “But the more I think about it, the more I realize how lucky any child would be to have you as a father."

A mix of relief and joy washes over Buck's face, his eyes gleaming with gratitude. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his, and squeezes it softly. In that moment, you both understand that whatever path you choose, you'll face it together, as you've always done.

He suddenly stands up on his knees, dragging you down on the couch, hands framing your face. You laugh in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding into him as his lips pursued together down from you nose, to your cheek and making their way to your neck.

“We better get to work then!”

[starillusion13]

FRIENDS!? Chapter 17

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

Series ML

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (An ATEEZ Office AU)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere

Warning: mention of memories (nothing much just go with the flow).

W.C: 4k Network: @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

>.<

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the small town as a girl skipped along the sidewalk. your hairs bounced with every step, and your favorite pink dress fluttered in the summer breeze. you had just come from the park, where you had spent the morning reading your favorite book and collecting wildflowers. Clutched in your delicate hand was a daisy chain you had carefully crafted, each flower threaded together with love and care.

Your day was filled with joy. you stopped by the ice cream truck, exchanging a few coins for a scoop of strawberry ice cream that dripped down your fingers as you licked it happily. you watched as a butterfly flitted by, its wings a blur of color, and tried to follow it with your eyes until it disappeared into the sky.

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourself wandering towards your favorite place — Mrs. Kang's cafe. It was quiet now, with the lunch time to be over a few minutes earlier and your wanderings almost finished for the day and most of the students already on their way home. Curious and full of energy, you decided to explore a little. you spotted an open door that led to a staircase and, on a whim, began to climb. Up and up you went, your small feet pattering against the steps until you reached the top.

The door to the rooftop was slightly ajar, and with a gentle push, you stepped outside. The view took your breath away—the whole town spread out before you, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The breeze was cooler up here, ruffling your hair and bringing the scent of fresh air.

But you weren't alone. As you wondered further into the rooftop, you noticed three boys sitting near the edge, their legs dangling over the side. They were deep in conversation, laughing and joking with each other, unaware of your presence at first.

you hesitated, clutching your hand bag tightly. you didn't want to disturb them, but you were also curious. Gathering your courage, you stepped closer, your small footsteps making soft sounds against the concrete. One of the boys, the one with messy brown hair that fell into his eyes, noticed you first. He nudged the others, and they all turned to look at you, surprise flickering across their faces.

"Hi," you said shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

The boy with the bright smile was the first to respond. "Hey there," he greeted warmly, his eyes twinkling. "What brings you up here?"

"I was just exploring," you explained, holding up the bag. "I brought Mrs. Kang some cookies from my orphanage."

The boy with round glasses adjusted them slightly and smiled. "Then what are you doing here? She must not be at the rooftop, waiting for someone to show up with her orphanage cookies." It was evident that he was not liking your presence right there.

you nodded eagerly, your initial nervousness coming back. "It's just I couldn't find her downstairs. And, I thought maybe this is the place where I can get her."

The third boy, who had been watching you with a curious expression, finally spoke up. "That's cool. What's your name?"

"y/n," you replied, gaining a bit more confidence. "What are your names?" you asked hesitatingly, not sure if they are even willing to extend the conversation – let aside, giving away their names to someone on whom one has a distaste already. But the other two boys were having glows and charms on their face on meeting you.

The boys exchanged glances, then the one with the bright smile spoke again. "I'm Yeosang," he said, gesturing to himself. "This is San," he pointed to the boy with the glasses, "and that's Wooyoung," he finished, nodding toward the boy with the messy hair.

you repeated their names softly to yourself, then smiled. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, y/n," Wooyoung said, returning her smile. "Do you come here often?"

you nodded your head. "yes, this is like my second home. It's really nice up here." You smile to yourself, "I like to spend my time here with her, sometimes before returning back home."

"you mean orphanage." San scoffed and you glanced at his attitude. He was rude for no reason. Whatever, the other two were too nice and it was okay to avoid the third one. You averted your eyes from him to the other two grinning ones.

"I have never seen you before," Yeosang said with a grin. "We come here after school sometimes to talk. Also, this is my aunt's shop." The surprise in your eyes was not missed by them and they chuckled at your adorable reaction.

"Do you want to sit with us?" Wooyoung offered, patting the space beside him.

you hesitated for a moment, then nodded. you carefully walked over and sat down next to them, your legs swinging freely above the ground. you placed your things on your other side, their smiles seems like a symbol of your newfound friendship.

As the evening breeze picked up, the three of you chatted and laughed, San was just sitting quietly in the distance and often glancing at you all. No one knows what was going on in his mind but one thing was sure that he was not liking your presence in their peaceful circle. you telling them about your day and the boys sharing stories of their own. The rooftop, usually a quiet retreat, was now filled with the sound of your voices and laughter.

When it was time for you to leave, you stood up, your heart full of happiness. "Can I come back tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. The next days were weekends and the orphanage gives you more time than other days to spend your days in a bit relaxing way. It's only possible because you are in middle school now.

"Of course," Wooyoung replied with a smile. "We'll be here." Yeosang nodded at his friend's words but the third was not having it for good. He scoffed, "we are supposed to meet them tomorrow."

"it's okay. We can go later." Yeosang told him and turned towards him, his lips automatically curling up to a sweet angelic smile.

Wooyoung clasped his hands in excitement, "we got a new friend. We gotta tell them too."

San rolled his eyes and stared at you when you exchanged some sweet words and smiles with them. He hated your entire existence at this point. There is no need for any more friends when they have each other --- a girl as a friend --- a big NO.

"So friends?" Wooyoung extended his hand towards you, a bright smile plastered on his face. You quickly held his hand, a comforting hold, an innocent promise was made, "friends." you said in your softest and friendly tone.

"forever?" Yeosang placed a hand on your shoulder, mirroring the same expression as yours. You nodded and smiled wider, "forever."

San stood up, getting a proper look of his outfit, he slid the bag over his shoulder. He glanced at you and then to his friends, "we should go back home. It's getting late."

"will you not be her friend?" Wooyoung asked him.

San poked his inner cheek with his tongue, "no. it's nonsense."

"but you are still my friend." You told him innocently.

He glared at you before turning his back at you, "whatever."

you waved goodbye and skipped toward the door, your spirit lifted by the unexpected encounter. As you made your way down the stairs, the warmth of the sunset still on your cheeks, you knew you had made three special friends that day—friends you couldn't wait to see again. Well, safe to say two.

The friendship started when you were thirteen years old. You were like an innocent flower blooming in between the two boys, Wooyoung and Yeosang. You all still laugh at your interaction with Wooyoung at the café after your first meeting with them at the rooftop. Two weeks later, you were returning from school, when you wanted to give a visit to the café but Mrs. Kang was not there so you were just standing in front of the glass display section with all the collections of display. The thing, you didn't notice that your presence was noticed by the three boys sitting and conversing in the corner of the place. The youngest one of them happily approached you but somehow, his different look with the different hairstyle was making him unrecognizable. He got the idea that you wanted to buy one from there and when you pointed to the choco red-velvet cupcake, he was more than happy to buy it for you. But weirdly, you ran too fast from there, before Yeosang could approach you two.

Surprisingly, the next day, you went to that same café and it was late afternoon. You knew they would be there because that was the time they usually return from their school. And, you were not alone, Mr. Kim was there along with you and he was buying you a few things for your upcoming birthday. Your orphanage celebrates every individual's birthday. And, you bought a special gift for Wooyoung, not missing the other two in mind.

You met the three boys in the streets, going towards the café and your innocent-self ran towards them with the paper bag in your hold, handing them their gifts and thanking Wooyoung for the treat.

It was really a pure and sweet friendship. A childhood friendship deepening and tightening with every passing day.

It's the last year of your middle school and your friendship with the guys was more than a year. Before the finals, you heard that they were going to change their schools and initially you were so heartbroken that your friends would be leaving the town but surprisingly they were happy for some reasons and you didn't know a single thing about their thoughts.

So in the last days of your last year of middle school, whenever you went to school, you avoided them after the departure. As usual they used to wait for you on the bench beside the cafe but you ran past them in a hurry.

"Hey, wait!" A young boy yelled and your feet immediately came to a halt. He was panting and sweats dripping down his forehead. When you saw his face, you felt him familiar. Not like you know each other, you have seen him. The ground beside your orphanage where he plays basketball with his friends, the other boys live in your neighborhood but you don't know where he lives. You don't mind them playing there, neither you were attracted to anyone or wanted to get along but you loved this particular boy, more specifically his smile.

It was a healing one, a comforting and sweet one. The gummy smile which was not visible on any other boy's face over there. And the same way he was smiling at you at the moment.

"You?" You asked him curiously, what to ask him more. Neither you know his name, about him or what's the person stopping you for. He was in a different school uniform than yours and upon realizing it's the same as Wooyoung.

He patted your shoulder and chuckled, "myself, Jongho. You are y/n, right?"

You nodded slowly, still confused with his approach. He even knows your name.

"Here, take this." He hands you over a paper bag. Without further thought, you grabbed it and looked at him again. "Woo and Yeo told me to give it to you. I suppose you are their friend whom they talk about a lot. Nice to meet you."

Ah! So he is their friend. Your guess was right somehow. As you are ignoring them because they might be leaving this town soon and you don't want to get attached to them anymore to feel lonely after their departure.

"What is this?" You asked him, he was smiling all the way at you. You didn't even know why he was still waiting there after giving you the bag, he nodded and chuckled at you.

"That's for you to find out." He tilted his head to the side and raised a brow, "I heard you are ignoring my friends for some reason but I hope this gift will help your day."

"Why?"

"Just go back home and find out."

Staring at each other for a while, you turned around but as you were about to cross the road, he asked you again.

"Do you want to come to watch my match?" He asked you hopefully, excitement in his eyes. When you looked at him, he spoke again, "today your finals ended so a bit of fun won't harm, right?"

Right. You so want to watch his smile. Like the way he is grinning at you now. You smiled back in return.

"So, you coming?"

"I guess the usual timing?" you asked.

He nodded and ran away. You chuckled and crossed the road. Your days are filled with joy and happiness.

The last thing you would expect to be met with a letter, a cupcake and a pretty dress inside the paper bag. After freshening up quickly, you glanced at the clock, you have enough time till his evening match and now you got on your bed, shuffling towards the headboard and leaned against it, to read what's the content of the letter.

'Hey! Are you mad at me? I'm so sorry to make you feel so low. Actually, it was supposed to be a surprise but after seeing you so down everyday and avoiding us made me realize that I should let you know this. I am definitely leaving my previous school but I'm not leaving the town, promise. Don't be mad at me. there's a surprise you will get on the first day of your high school so please wait for it and don't be sad.' --- your Woo.

Your gaze trailing down to the last line written below...

'The dress is from me --- Yeosang. I saw Wooyoung bought a cake for you and I didn't know what to give you but I hope you liked it.'

There's a cute little character drawn beside the writing.

Your smile grew wider and you laid on the bed, smiling and feeling excited with the gifts and also, they are not leaving you alone in this town.

You didn't know when you feel asleep on your bed, clutching the letter in your fist and the paper-bag lying on the floor beside the bed until Mrs. Stella came knocking at your door, groaning at the sound, you rubbed your eyes and glanced at the clock, it was already late for you. Fifteen minutes to go.

"Y/n baby." The lady's soft voice made your head turn towards the door when you jumped out from the blanket and ran towards it, to reveal her standing there all in an elegant dress as always. Her warm smile and welcoming gestures pulled you in a hug.

"Why did you lock your door? I got so scared."

You nodded your head in understanding and pulled apart to give her a smile, "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. But I have to leave right now or I will be late."

"to watch the match?" she asked you softly before pulling apart, watching you pulling out a dress from the wardrobe and placing it on the bed, also setting the favorite pair of shoes at the side of the doorframe.

You smiled and nodded, "yes. He is probably my new friend."

"He will be your best-friend because you are such a sweet girl. I will pack some cookies for him." she said and sat on the chair when you went inside the washroom to change into your outfit. After coming back to the room, she helped you to tie your hair and left you alone in the room to pack the snacks.

It was a quick action and there you were standing at the main gate, your Mrs. Stella placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "you haven't introduced me to your other three friends and now this fourth one. Invite them over a picnic, I want to see those nice boys who befriended the sweet girl like you."

"I will. But later, now we should be just secret friends."

"why? Are you in love with one of them?" she wiggled her brows.

You whined loudly, stomping your feet, "what...nooooo. I just don't want them to know exactly where I live."

"It's okay. Be safe."

.

.

.

The playground is surrounded by protective fences so that intruders can't go inside whenever and from wherever they want and so they have to take either of the two entrance gates. The street by the side of the ground, where people often glancing at the boys screaming at each other just for the sake of the games. Their sweaty bodies and faint curses whenever they were losing points, especially everything was attractive in that zone.

Just like that, you were standing at Gate 1, where most of the people can enter to watch the matches and the security can keep track of the people entering the ground.

"y/n!"

The sudden voice made you look towards the direction from where a young boy ran towards you, all the way smiling and sweating. The corner of your lips lifted up and he stopped in front of you. His fingers quickly wrapped around your wrist and pulled you towards the benches where you could sit and there were already four boys sitting gossiping among them. You couldn't see their faces because they were facing their back towards you but their laugh echoed in your ears. Two voices were familiar.

"you kept your promise, y/n. thanks for coming." Jongho finally let your hand go when you were almost near the benches. You smiled and nodded your head, handing him the paper bag packed with cookies. "What's this?"

"a gift." You chuckled and added, "I am not one to turn down someone. You were expecting me so I had to come. Moreover, I love watching people enjoying their favorite thing."

"You love watching me?" he raised his brow.

Your palm pressed over your lips, laughing lightly, "no silly. I love watching you play basketball."

And again. His gummy smile shining brighter than the lights of the posts.

"y/n?"

Turning around quickly, you came face to face with the boy whom you missed all these days. Wooyoung stood up from the bench and ran towards you, engulfing you in a tight hug. To your surprise, he planted a kiss on top of your head and you didn't even complain about it, rather you closed your eyes and melted in his arms, feeling protected and loved.

"so, this was your surprise, Jongho?" Yeosang asked and folded his arms below his chest. Quickly smiling when he caught your eyes at him. The youngest nodded and caught the ball which was thrown by his other friend. Your gaze quickly fell on the new tall boy, he looked so squishy and soft and there was another tall boy whose arms were drooped over him with piercing eyes and they both were watching you keenly. They were curious and it was all visible on their features, neither of them was smiling but looked as if they had so many questions.

"Who is she?" asked the boy with round eyes, who removed the arm around him and glared at the other boy who was trying to tickle him. "never seen her before." The boy was wearing a white t-shirt like Jongho was wearing a black one unlike others who were in denim and stylish clothes.

Jongho stood beside you, smiling at them before sending you a comforting smile and you did the same to them, "she is our new friend. Her name is y/n." he turned towards you, "that's Yunho and the other one is Mingi."

y/n.

the name clicked inside their mind. You can't be the one they are thinking of. Right?

"you mean..."

Wooyoung laughed loudly, "yes, Yunho. she is our y/n."

"well..." now you finally started speaking, "nice to meet you two. Don't be awkward with me. I'm just your friend so let's settle down to watch the match."

"Yunho is also playing today." Mingi said and smiled when he watched you turn to his friend in surprise.

"you are our best-friend, y/n." Yeosang always corrects you with this word. You nodded and took a seat on the bench near you, the five boys were all following your movements as you brushed your dress and neatly placed the bag beside you and combed your ponytail with just fingers. You were like an angel under the post-light. None of their eyes were leaving your form. They were getting lured by you.

It's only because you were the pure, the only light in the darkness of their life.

They were drawn like a moth to a flame.

Your gaze stopped on them, "all the best Jongho and Yunho."

It would be a lie if your cheering voice didn't skip their heartbeat.

The two players gave exciting nods before running towards their field. The three left with you settled down around you, not speaking anything just watching you enjoying the match. You didn't know anything about basketball, just that the team has to score points by putting the ball into the net and preventing their opponents from interrupting them. That didn't matter the fact that you were enjoying watching your friends winning the game.

And, the real win was for three others who were just ignoring their two friends and watching your giggles, laughs, cheers, and excitedly standing up whenever one of them scored points. Once when you turned towards them, you caught them staring at you but you thought it was because you were jumping on your feet like a kid, "I so want to come here often."

"Then you can come here every Wednesday and Friday." Mingi answered you quickly.

You nodded and pressed your lips in a line, "I can't. the orphanage and Mr. Kim won't like me going out so much."

You didn't get anything in reply. The attention went back to the match.

But little did you know the three boys around you shared looks among them. Innocent? Sad? Sympathy? Worry?

Nah. It's far from that.

The hatred.

They hated the fact that you can't come anywhere anytime.

Even if you think they don't know you, they are just your new friends you made by chance. You are so wrong for that because you are just falling into every trap that they are laying for you and without doubting, you are following them with a smile on your face.

"How was the match?" Wooyoung poked your cheek from beside you.

"It's good. I didn't know I would enjoy it so much." you looked towards the two players coming towards you, "Congratulations for winning. But I have to go now or it will be late."

Yunho held your wrist, "can't you stay a little bit more?"

"I wish I could but I'm not allowed to stay longer." You smiled at the end of your reply.

Yunho just nodded in agreement and dabbed his face on the towel. You picked up the paperbag from the bench and extended your hand towards Jongho who came closer to you after wiping off the sweat from his face.

"Take this. I brought this as a friendly gesture for you and thought maybe one or two of your friends would be here but I guess it would be too less for all of you."

He chuckled and shook his head, "hey! Don't worry about that. It's enough that you brought a gift. Let's just be friends and we can treat ourselves to much more. And thank you so much for this."

"Yes. If only you all had been in my school, we could have hung out together every day." You folded your hands under your chest.

"We can." Yeosang brought your attention to him, "we will wait for you in front of the cafe and then we can spend time there. That's the best place for us because it's even closer to your place."

"You all will wait?" Your eyes lit up with surprise.

Mingi smiled at your cute face, "of course. After all we are friends, right?"

"We are best friends."

[the next two chapter are ready to post but i'm not feeling like to post right now please tomorrow i'll make sure to post it as the first thing in the morning.]

NEXT

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[cmdrfupa]

Felicity #1

He was thankful for the sorcery world as it allowed him a life he could only dream of. But then it almost cost him his life, and imagining leaving you behind wasn’t easy. So he resigned, willing to be his beloved's absolute best support system and house husband. The perfect husband. So what’s that nagging feeling at the back of his mind?

~~please refer to *this* post for potential content warning~~

Homemaker!Ijichi x Reader

2.6k wc

Summer comes at an astounding pace. One day, allergy season, and spring showers. Next thing you know, the day to jump into a pool is here. New beginnings and cold frozen lychee martinis in hand.

Today was not that day.

As Ijichi lifted his visor, he wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling the tremendous relief of the cloth against his skin. While he appreciated knowing the linens would dry much quicker with the heat, he wished it wasn't draining every drop of his life source in the 20 minutes he was outdoors. Grabbing the basket of dried items, he returned to fold them, thrilled to sit and finish the final 2 episodes of Bad and Crazy so he could finally talk to you about the end once you made it home.

"Baby? I'm home early." You take your shoes off, sliding on your slippers. As you walked further into the house, a delightful scent of pie and freshly cut pineapple filled the air, a surprising aroma for this time of day. Intrigued, you go to the kitchen, confident that he is up to something. There he is, headsets on, lost in the music, his voice softly humming the words to what you think is 505 by the Arctic Monkeys. His head bobs to the beat as he dices the pineapple into bits. You can't decide what's sweeter, the pineapple or the joy in his voice. You stand in the entryway, a warm feeling of love and contentment washing over you, waiting until he sets the knife down to approach. Rubbing the center of his back, he didn't flinch as he recognized your touch, but he was a bit flustered. "Darling! You're home very early today! I.. Dinner isn't even done." He looks down at his watch, then back at you. "Everything okay at the school? Are you hurt?" he quickly removes his headphones before bringing a hand to your face, ensuring no harm was done. You embrace him before kissing him. "Everything is okay. I'm just home early. I promise." The relief in your voice is palpable, reassuring him that all is well. "If you insist. Though you never leave early, something is up, yes?" the man was persistent. "You know me too well, Chi." "It's part of the Kiyotaka genes. Knowing your spouse so well, they accept defeat early," he warmly snickers before bringing a piece of pineapple to your mouth. "So. What's the news?" Swallowing, your eyes show the excitement before you speak. "Satoru accepted the proposal to change how we train students on field missions to transition into their sorcerer roles. He loved the idea and offered me the role so I could ensure it was done correctly!" Elation filled Ijichi's face as he realized he helped implement a new structure that would last. "Love! Th- this is big! I'm so proud of you!" His hug couldn't have been tighter. The achievement in itself was monumental. But this meant he could 100% step out of his role and be your best homemaker. "Well. this is no small feat! I need to plan something. A pool party? No, not everyone wants to swim." Ijichi grabbed a writing tablet from the nearby drawer and clicked the attached pen. "Honey." "We could have a luau? Eh. I don't want to dig up the yard even if it would produce a really succulent pig." "Chi?" "Yes, darling?" His eyes immediately find yours. Gleeful, he leans in for a kiss. Happily accepting, your lips meet his as your arms wrap around his neck. "Let's just do a dinner party. A small one. Nothing too extravagant. Some wine, a few appetizers, a main course. And we can see if Mrs. Nanami can make us a cake. Yeah?" "My darling love, that sounds perfect. Leave it to me."

So here he was, organizing a party celebrating the sunshine season and his beautiful spouse's promotion. 

"Yes. And that one should have light pink spray roses, burgundy carnations, orange carnations, bells of Ireland, pink asiatic lilies, purple cushion spray chrysanthemums, blue sinuata statice, variegated pittosporum and if possible, leatherleaf fern."

He sucked his teeth, crossing the name of the nursery off of his list with a look of defeat. 

"Ah. No. That won't do, I'm sorry. Thank you for your time." He hung up the phone and began to scribble another note on his pad before sighing and sitting down next to you. 

"Ijichi. While I appreciate everything you're doing, you don't have to get every available summer flower."

"Honey. I know you appreciate it, but it's not about the flowers. I want it to be a beautiful piece for you. You've done something amazing! I want to celebrate that with no cut corners." Lightly squeezing your hand, Ijichi kisses your forehead before pressing another to your nose. 

You don't remember the last time you'd seen him this relaxed, but it suited him well. 

His usual combed, pristine hair that formed on his face was now lazily combed back, showing his beautiful facial structure. His hollowed cheeks had a peach flush once he noticed you were admiring his face. "Honey." He was easy to fluster, even after this long. "You're so handsome. And so kind. Don't overdo it in the name of trying to please me."

He has learned from previous affairs he's planned that sometimes he bites off more than he can chew occasionally. Like that birthday when he invited every class at Jujutsu Tech, administration, and the front office of your apartment complex. "Baby. All these people aren't going to fit in my apartment for much longer." You looked at the over two dozen people uncomfortably smiling in the living room, cramped but trying to look happy.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I uh.. we will make it work."

"It will be a small, intimate gathering. You've already decided on the guest list so that we will go with just those few." He rolled the sleeves up of his loose button-down, subtly interlacing his fingers with yours once he did. His cool touch brings a welcome tingle. 

"You are a gift, Ijichi. I love you forever."

Kissing the palm of your hand, he glanced up at you over his glasses. "And forever, I love you. Now. Don't you have something to do? Like that shelf full of books you promised to go through so we can donate some?"

Your eyes narrowed before you laughed. "Yes, sir."

His lips met yours in a tender kiss. "Thank you, darling. I'll start dinner once I've finished making this last call."

He watched as you left the den, beaming as you hummed a tune equal to an angelic chorus. "Just get it over with Kiyotaka." Grabbing his phone and huffing, he scrolled down to the 'Gojo S. 😶' contact in his phone before hitting the call button. 

"The renovations are gorgeous. You brought out the traditional style of the home." Kento admired the flooring of your living area, taking in the uniqueness of the classic tile pattern. 

"Thank you! Ijichi thought it was a good idea to uncover the beauty of the hardwood under our carpeting—the entire first floor. Come! He'd love to show you the rest of the work." With a smile, Nanami followed you to the dining room, where your husband checked the wine bottles to ensure perfect temperature. "Honey? "

Slightly frazzled, Ijichi's shoulders jumped. 

"Yes, my love? Kento!" He brought his hand out, noticing his friend shaking hands before pulling him in for a quick hug. 

"It's good to see you. You look very well rested, Kiyotaka."

"So do you! Retirement is doing us good, it seems," the men chuckled. 

"I'll let you boys catch up. I'll let you know when everyone has arrived." Kissing his cheek, you left to head towards the front of the house.

After giving his tour, Ijichi eventually made his way to the study, showing Nanami the latest addition to his collection of handcrafted fountain pens and watching him appreciate the craftsmanship. Hesitant, a question popped into mind as he looked around his office.

"Kento. May I ask you something?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

With a sigh, Ijichi swallowed before continuing. "What do you do with all this downtime? I feel like I'm getting on my partner's nerves with all the house renovation nonsense, the pens, the mundane things I do daily. Do you think we'll regret retiring this early? Do you think our spouses will tire of us?" It all spewed out without much thought. 

Part of Ijichi was happy he wasn't in immediate danger anymore. Though his worry was now with you as you helped lead the new generation of sorcerers, he knew you were far more capable. But it made him feel that perhaps you weren't into him as much now. He was home planning new projects, planning parties, and making dinners that could feed a dozen. Were you tired of him?

He knew precisely what Ijichi was thinking. 

"When I told my wife I wanted to leave the jujutsu world, I don't think I'd seen anyone so relieved in my life." he sips his beverage, looking down at his wedding band. 

"I did something I said I wouldn't do: marry while still in that world. But she was my calm in every storm we waltzed into. I did it with no regrets, of course. But after the incident in Shibuya that almost cut my life short…"

"Yeah…" Ijichi recalled the day of hell. You were in Kyoto, trying to return quickly once you heard what was happening. Ijichi was right there, facing death intimately. The reminder showed in the burn scars that covered half of Kento's body. He wore them with no hints of being self-conscious about them. He saw a smile growing on Kentos's face.

"I don't regret it. None of it. I don't think I can when I see how my partner looks when I'm working on a puzzle or cooking our favorite meal. Downtime now is something I treasure. We used to yearn for a day of peace and a little sense, you know." they both laughed, recalling the after-work drinks and gripes. "We are also still young enough to find any other profession if we choose."

"You’re right. I'm just overthinking… A lot"

"Don't feel like you're supposed to know what to do. I don't even know what the hell I'm doing most days." The tone of Kento's voice held a lot of compassion as he quickly found the words to reassure his friend. "We have done a lot of work. Dangerous work. We can afford to be indecisive and leisurely choose what to put our energy into."

While his words held some truth, that guilty feeling still sat in Ijichi's heart. "I do enjoy the leisurely pace of my life now. The house projects, the cooking, and the look on their faces when I show them my latest addition. I don't want to lose the gift of their unconditional love and unwavering affection. It's what drives my every move."

"Then ask them. When you two were dating, they seemed capable of simply talking about the uncomfortable quite easily. That's not changed, Kiyotaka. If anything, they will appreciate hearing your thoughts now that you are, in fact, the best house husband you could be."

He nodded as if weighing the potential conversation's pros and cons before letting out a breath he didn't realize was being held in. "Thank you, Nanami."

"You're like my brother Ijichi, of course. Now, I'm starving, and rumor is you made Spanakopita."

Amused, Ijichi led Kento back to the party's center; chatter was heard as they returned to the dining area. With a pause, Ijichi heard your voice and listened for a while.

"Satoru, I'm telling you. The entire plan was his idea. That last-minute meeting with the heads? He's a mastermind with that kind of planning."

"Well, duh. But he was a liability for a while. Great driver, excellent spreadsheet creator. But don’t you remember having to come and use your technique to get him out of the way against that grade 2 curse?"

"I was falling in love with the man! Of course I did. I would’ve done it again if it meant he was safe. I should've left you to do it so I could've gone home to him early that night." Ijichi smiled as you and Gojo laughed. That flushed feeling came rushing back to his face.

"I'm glad he has you. And that you have him. He was good to us both in the office and the field. He deserves some peace in his life." Gojo seems genuine in his words, an occurrence Ijichi has yet to accept fully.

"Though life isn't as easy without his continued presence and organization skills. Oh, you love birds. Do you want or maybe need a third in the home?" He pouts.

"I'd rather go back to 10 hours' worth of paperwork in that stuffy office at the school, Satoru," Ijichi interjected as he wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your cheek with a gentle nudge of his nose.

"It's an option Ijichi. I don't require much! Just a sweet treat every once in a while and maybe a hug or 5."

"Please. Don't," you snickered at the comment, kissing your husband back.

"Behave." a playful nudge to his arm makes Ijichis lips curl up slightly. "Ken! Did you get the grand tour? Don't you love it?"

Kento nods. "It's phenomenal. Your husband knows his way around a home."

"Doesn't he? I've been given the gift of a homemaker with this one. He's made it feel even more like a dream. Nothing short of luck to have him as my forever beau."

It was hard to miss Ijichi's ears turning red as the kind words gave affirmation that he was doing everything right.

"Okay, okay. Enough of that." Clearing his throat, he raised his glass." Let's make a toast. To new beginnings with old friends who will stand the test of time. May we have more moments to sing each other's praises and welcome new changes!'

Post Party Unwind

Massaging your feet, Ijichi smiled. The gentle blaze of the low-burning fire nearby creates a cozy atmosphere for the end of a beautiful day. 

"Thank you again, my love. Everything was perfect! You even got Shoko to leave the hospital for a while. You must tell me your secrets."

A quiet laugh escaped his lips. "Oh, it wasn't much. I just told her you'd be thrilled to see her. And the promise of sending her home with a bottle of top-shelf tequila may have also worked." laughter filled the cozy backyard as the cool night air sent a slight chill up your legs and arms. 

"Want to head inside? I can run a bath for you while I finish cleaning."

"Why can't you join me in said bath?"

"Darling, there's so much cleaning to get done. The wine bottles, the mopping. Goodness, the leftover cake-"

"Ijichi Kiyotaka, my dear husband. Your loving significant other wants you to join them for a nice bubble bath. Please don't make me beg. I want to show you my appreciation." glint in your eyes, giving him the answer to his unspoken question.

Six years in, he couldn't take a flirtatious bout without coming apart just a little. It was just as amusing now as it was when he was driving you around back then. Adjusting his glasses before reaching up to run his slender fingers over your thigh, gripping the lush flesh with obviously wanton intent. "I'll go run us a bath. You are my priority, after all."

Thanks to @/saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers!

Taglist: @marikuchanxo

Thank you for reading! 💞

[elleloquently]

| a/n : female!reader who is quite girly and soft. i wrote this purely for fun so it might be a little self indulgent but i'm sharing it anyway... craving lemonade. have you ever had lavender lemonade? it's my favorite. song suggestions because i'm feeling nostalgic - work song: hozier... georgia: vance joy... from eden: hozier... i think that's all. if you read this, thank you <3

nothing sweeter - ellie williams

jackson was beginning to be enveloped by the summer sun, and you couldn't have been happier.

you didn't mind the way that the sun made you squint, or having to messily pull up your hair when the heat around your neck started to feel too overwhelming, only to realize that you had forgotten to place a hair tie on your wrist that morning.

frantically waving your hand in the heat was enough to make you feel heavy with sleep, but you continued anyway, determined not to allow your favorite friend to suffer from persistent, pesky flies.

"poor girl," you cooed, running your hand along shimmer's neck. always happy to accept your affections, shimmer inhaled quickly, puffing the breath out through her nostrils with a vibrating purr.

an easy laugh escaped you, tracing a delicate finger along the white strip down her nose.

"should've known i'd find you in here."

the familiar voice prompts an immediate smile to blossom onto your lips, one that your girlfriend would certainly argue was more beautiful than any of the flowers blooming in jackson.

"were you looking for long?" you question apologetically, eyebrows pinching together as you turned to face your visitor.

ellie shakes her head. she wore a tank top and a short sleeved, baggy button up, though it remained unbuttoned in her usual style.

"not long," she assures, pressing a brief kiss to the worried crease on your forehead. you relaxed at once, eyes fluttering shut as your cheeks warmed.

"i'm sorry i didn't wait," you mumble anyway.

ellie swats at your apology, strands of auburn slipping from the bun that held half of her hair. "you're here early today," she observed.

you nodded enthusiastically, a soft sigh exiting before your explanation. you usually went home first after work, normally to eat while asking ellie about her day and then confiding in her about yours.

today was different, prompted by the weather. perhaps a little sunshine really was good for the soul. everyone seemed happier today. even ellie looked more relaxed than usual, eyes bright while you spoke.

"i know," you enthuse. shimmer nudges your arm. "it's just so beautiful today, isn't it? we didn't have the heart to keep the kids indoors... i mean, we could've had class outside but then really, what's the point?"

you were somewhat of a teacher in jackson, helping out with the younger children. there were actual teachers, too, people who went to school and had fancy qualifications, once upon a time. you were a notorious babysitter, sweet and patient and first on the list when the school needed a bit more help. you were happy to oblige, finally feeling as though you had found your footing.

you were hopeless for patrol, never quite got comfortable with the feeling of a gun weighing down your hand. it was fulfilling, teaching at the school. it was your second favorite place in jackson, the first being anywhere with the animals that you adored.

"i think i could guess who the ring leader for that idea was..." ellie mused, looking at you with nothing but adoration in her eyes.

your eyes widening was enough confirmation and one corner of ellie's mouth quirked up, a lopsided grin.

"it was just too nice," you defended meekly.

ellie rolled her eyes, a false twinge of annoyance coating her tone but you knew she was only joking. "so you're the reason why i got harassed by loud children on my walk over? this time of day is usually peaceful."

you playfully shoved at her arm, not enough to make ellie even sway.

"hey," you warned, voice soft.

shimmer huffs and you raise your hand, scratching under her chin.

"so you came here to spoil shimmer?" ellie accuses, patting her horse as well.

"she deserves it," you grin, brushing your hands together to rid them of any dust.

"yeah? she's not the only one," ellie offers you her hand, fingers flexing while she waits. "let's get you home, ring leader."

your cheeks warmed and you graciously accept, interlocking your fingers with ellie's.

"how was it this morning, by the way?" you ask, shielding your eyes with your free hand as you exit the stables. the path is dusty but the nearby grass is so lush, it's a sight for sore eyes.

walking alongside ellie must've been a sight too, for any other resident in jackson. her clothes were dusty and faded from her early patrol, surely she needed to shower yet, and a cut was healing on her chin. she nearly always had a frown etched onto her lips. tense. you were well put together, considering, the only filth being that on your hands as evidence from a trip to the stable.

a pretty petal and her weed, ellie once joked, but you were quick to scold her for it.

"quiet," ellie informed you. you squeezed her hand and held yourself steady, determined not to lose your footing if you were just going to stare at her. "i was with dina today. not much infected, either."

you nodded sleepily along with her words. "i was thinking of maybe trying to make lemonade today?"

ellie perked up at your suggestion, and the reaction made your heart swell. "i have some things left over, still good but unused... think m'gonna trade around for a shit ton of lemons."

ellie snorted as you swore. it was comical in context and ellie felt soft towards you, desperate to get home and out of the sun. she hadn't seen you all day and she felt greedy now, bitterly jealous at the idea of you leaving again right away, sharing your smiles and polite nature with everyone else around town.

"i'll get you lemons," ellie doesn't offer so much as she tells you.

your eyebrows draw together slowly. "oh?"

"you should rest awhile, those kids have got to drive you wild," she mutters, to which you respond with an easy laugh.

"ellie, it's fine. doesn't lemonade sound good? it does to me, i think."

"anything coming from you would be good," ellie quips, and you bump against her. you love her this time of year, her freckles are so visible in the sun.

“so let me get the lemons,” you negotiate. “it won’t take long, promise.”

it won’t take long is an understatement. the people of Jackson share things as a community, and trading has been your way of shopping. despite the guidelines and your good natured heart, ellie was sure that there were a handful of people that would offer up all of their lemons for less than nothing if you so much as knocked on their door.

it was too warm to debate. ellie sighed reluctantly and you knew you had won, already imagining the sweetness that was soon to make your lips pucker.

"you can help if you want, only if you aren't too busy," you happily offered, tilting to your head to look at ellie.

"never too busy for you," ellie replied, almost offended that you would even think so.

you're giggly today and maybe you really have had too much sun.

ellie steps in front of you and pulls open the front door, leaning back in order to give you space to walk inside first.

your house is so dark compared to the sunlit, bright blue sky outside. you blink rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes in the new light.

ellie breathes in deeply and decides to take off her converse at the door. you had cleaned recently, she could tell.

even though you didn't grow up in the house, you've made it your own overtime. you never wanted to feel as though you were intruding in someone else's space. it took months upon months and lots of effort, but it felt like you. it was another thing that ellie appreciated about you, you certainly had a knack for turning a house into a home. she hoped to move in soon.

you beeline for a window, using both arms to push it open. the warm breeze filters inside and you hum, satisfied.

standing on your toes to draw back the curtains, you look over your shoulder to meet ellie's gaze.

"i was thinking i could make extra, we could take it to joel?"

a smile came to ellie naturally. your thoughtfulness was endearing, and ellie could tell you've been thinking about it and planning all day.

"sounds good," she replies, reaching out to brush your hair behind your ear.

you're pleased so you grin, hanging onto the feeling of ellie's thumb grazing your cheek.

"okay," you mumble, suddenly feeling as though you were rapidly losing all of your motivation. you pull away from ellie, who reaches out once again, entrapping you in her grasp.

"just five more minutes?" ellie asks, her tone nonchalant but her green eyes were pleading.

you throw your head back and groan in protest, but you both already know that you'll give in. "you're such a dork," you accuse.

"so... yes?" ellie asks hopefully, holding both of your hands in her own.

"yes," you grumble. "just five minutes," you solidify, but ellie is already pulling you closer before you can finish your sentence.

[mintmatcha]

Heat blisters across the ocean in waves. Summer is at its peak, rippling the air.

The others in your party have decided to dip down the beach's scorching sands and into the ocean foam, but you've decided to stay put. Marcille's griping partially carries over the break of waves, only the overtones of her voice and Falin's giggles reaching you, a distant siren's song that beckons you closer.

Instead, you pop the last crumbling bit of your popsicle into your mouth and close your eyes. The flavor spills across your tongue, flashes of citrus and blossoms of berry, and you hum in appreciation. When only the wooden taste of the stick is left, you open your eyes and catch how Laios has been watching you.

His lips are slightly parted, blush pink and gently moist, still wet with the same seawater that hangs from his dirty blonde hair. Those golden eyes are wide and just as bright as the sun.

The attention makes you glimmer; Laios is... different than other men you've liked, but he's certainly the most attractive. Wide shoulders and a thick frame, you can see how his muscles move through his sweat soaked undershirt, coiled and strong. It makes you act differently; you curl your spine and stick out your chest, pointing your toes to make your legs seem longer and more alluring-- all of the things women do when they want a man to want them.

Then, you remember who you're dealing with.

"Oh, sorry." You gesture with the empty wooden stick. "Did you want some?"

Laios blinks. Then, blinks again.

"Oh, uh-" he laughs, cheeks red. "Yeah."

The excitement inside you slumps. Yeah, he just wanted your snack.

"You should have asked." You roll your head to your shoulder and shiver at the bead of sweat the dips across the open curve of your neck. He does the same, rubbing the back of his neck with the flat of his palm. "I didn't know you liked sweets. It was really good."

Laios swallows and you watch his throat bob.

"I just didn't think you'd want my spit all over it."

"Spit doesn't bother me."

He doesn't say anything back. The silence unsettles you; Laios isn't one to ever stop talking. He's filled with tidbits and tangents that are seemingly never-ending. Shuro and Chilchuck hate it, but there's a certain charm to the joy he has when he's dumping information on your lap.

"Do you think there's any monsters in the water around here?" You try to spark that joy in him.

"No, they don't come in this close to shore; it's too overfished." Laios rattles off with ease, no passion behind it. "Do you really not mind spit?"

"I guess not?"

"Cool." Laios leans back again, watching the shore where everyone else relaxes as if searching for something. When he seems to find it, he turns back to you and swallows again before quickly diving into you. Before you can process what's happening, his lips find your cheek. They're somehow warmer than the air, but not as warm as the wet flash of tongue that creeps out from between them. It's nothing more than a quick swipe, but it's enough to rip a gasp from your lungs before he pulls away.

"You're right." The sticky orange juice of your dessert is stuck to his lips. "It was good. A little salty."

[k-slla]

A/N: a little idea that has been playing around in my head got finally written down :)

Pairing - Dean x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, show level violence, death

WC: 1120 | My Masterlist

All mistakes are mine. Feedback is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Sun. You could feel its warmth softly caress your cheeks. Through light sleep you heard children laughing in the distance. A door sliding open next to you brought you out from your sleep.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Dean lowered himself next to you and kissed your forehead. “Don't you want to take a nap in bed?” He sat down next to you on the porch swing.

You opened your eyes and squinted at him in the brightness of the sun.

“But it's so warm here.” You smiled and moved closer into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder and both looked out into the yard. You couldn't help but smile to yourself seeing your older twin boys chase around the yard after their little sister. It still doesn't feel real to you to think that you and Dean really got out of the hunting life. You got married. You have this beautiful blue house with a huge yard for your dog to run around. And what was most perfect about this all - you had three beautiful, perfect children with him. Twin boys who turned 12 at the start of the summer and a five year old daughter.

It was a warm quiet summer evening. You still had a few hours before Sam and Eileen were supposed to come over for a little barbeque. “Sometimes I still think that this is a dream that we're having. It feels almost too perfect.” You said quietly and snuggled to him.

“It does, doesn't it? Look at me, Y/N.” Dean's voice was soft when he spoke. You turned your eyes up to meet his gaze. He was still perfect. Years had started to show on his face, but all that just made him even more beautiful. They made him yours. And even after all those years hunting, he never lost that spark in his eyes. You both had gone through a lot over the years. Pain, grief, losing friends and family, but for all those things you were there for each other. Helping each other to heal. He ran his fingers over your sunkissed cheek, before lowering his head to kiss you softly, lovingly.

“I love you, sweetheart. I know this seems so unreal even after all those years, but it is. We are free.”

A soft moan got suppressed in you when he kissed you once more. “I love you, Dean.”

You heard a phone ring inside the house and Dean got up to answer it, while you remained seated and looked over the yard at your children laughing and playing together.

After a little while, Dean stepped back outside. “T’was Sam. Said they might be running a little late. Julia had asked him to ask if Auntie would make her some of her “yummies”, but I told him you're tired, so no.”

“What? Dean!” You got up quickly. “Call him back. Of course I can do them.” You protested loudly, but figured out quickly that he was just messing with you from the smile that was all over his face.

You walked into the kitchen and started to gather things for your “yummies” as Sam and Eileen's daughter Julia called them. They were just simple brownies with a little almond butter swirled into it with whatever berries you had at hand. Today you decided to use raspberries. Can't go wrong with some classics. You thought to yourself as you put the tray into the oven. Soon the decadent smell of chocolate and almonds filled the kitchen air.

A few hours later everyone gathered around the fire pit in your backyard. Dean was handling the grill, you and Eileen made drinks for everyone and Sam stayed with the kids around the fire. The whole evening was filled with laughter and joy, and you could really feel yourself being at peace, happy around your family. It was already dark, but kids were still running around while the four of you were sitting around the fire.

You started to nod off again next to Dean. You heard him quietly whisper to you. “Y/N. Wake up, please.” His pleas were growing more desperate. “Please, sweetheart. Wake up!” You were still so warm and wanted to snuggle in closer to him, but you opened your eyes and saw that you were alone around the fire. It all started to disappear fast with Dean's voice getting clearer and clearer with each passing second.

“Open your eyes, baby. Please..” You knew that voice. You had heard that same tone many times before. “Wake up. Don't leave me! Please don't leave me..” It got cold around you and you felt like something else was pulling you out. Then you remembered. The hunting trip you went on. You were certain that you could've done it alone. Apparently you were wrong.

Djinns. The whole lot of them. More than you had expected, that's for sure. You didn't know it then, but as soon as you stepped out of your car, you were done for. You had no chance.

You forcefully opened your eyes and saw Dean hover above you. “Dean..I..” You were tired. You wanted to cry, but no tears would come. Your throat was sore and scratchy as you tried to talk. “Dean, I’m..sorry..” You were laying on the hard concrete floor, Dean right beside you.

You tried to reach out to his cheek, but you couldn't move. “I'm.. there were so many..” You whispered.

“It's okay, baby, just stay with me, okay?” He pulled you closer to his chest, kissing your forehead softly. You felt warm tears run down your cheeks. His tears.

“I don't..I don't think I can..” Your breaths were quickening when your fate slowly made itself clear. “I love you..Dean.. I'm..” Dean hugged you tightly. “Y/N, no, please don't…please don't leave me.” He cried out, voice barely above whisper.

“I'll always..love..you..Dean.” Now you felt like you were crying. When it really felt like you were taking your last breaths. “Dean…please…tell..” With a last effort to pull your strength together, you reached out to Dean's cheek again. Your eyes locked with his, hoping he could read out from them what you were too weak to spell out. Please tell me you love me. Tell me it's okay.

“I love you, Y/N. I always will.”

His last kiss on your lips was what took you over. It all felt like you were just falling asleep.

When you opened your eyes again you were sitting on a porch swing in front of a blue house. There were no children laughing. Dean wasn't next to you. But there was sun shining. You could feel its warmth softly caress your cheeks.

Taglist: @cevansbaby-dove @jackles010378 @deanwinchestersgirl87 @nescavaneck @il0vebeingdelulu @suckitands33