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clickerflight · 1 year ago
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Clove: Part 9 - Traveling Merchant
Masterlist
Part 8
THE BOYS HAVE RETURNED!!! This is a pretty soft snippet today. I love pampering Hyrum.
Content: Cronic pain issues, healing, social anxiety
Pretty soft one today for sure. Let me know if you want to be on the tag list
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Hyrum’s tail thumped against the table as he leaned against the back of the kitchen chair, on his knees as he watched Ephraim cut up vegetables and put them in the pot that bubbled on the stove. Ephraim kept glancing back at him, eyes glimmering with amusement. 
Hyrum liked to watch Ephraim cook. He liked having porridge and berries for breakfast still, and he usually traded between sandwiches and bread pudding for lunch, but dinner was a special affair. Ephraim made something new every night for Hyrum to try, and tonight he was making something called stew. He’d put chunks of meat in it and everything, and Hyrum was doing his best not to drool on the floor, his tail thumping against the table even harder. 
He shifted down onto the chair a bit more, despite the excitement egging him on to watch closer as Ephraim stirred everything together in the pot. His legs were beginning to ache deep down from the pressure so he needed to move to try and get them to feel better. 
“I should be done soon,” Ephraim said, turning to Hyrum with a broad smile that sent curls of joy through his chest. “Do you want some bread while you wait?”
Hyrum shook his head. He didn’t want to spoil his appetite. The stew smelled so wonderful he wanted to be able to eat as much of it as he could. 
Ephraim ran a hand through Hyrum’s hair and the werewolf leaned into it. His hair was smoother and shinier now, waves beginning to form in it as it grew healthy again. 
“How about we go work on that quilt, hmm?” Ephraim suggested. “Time will go faster than waiting in here for it to be done.”
Hyrum nodded and padded along after Ephraim, heading to the craft room where the quilt was set up. Ephraim picked up a needle from where it had been sitting on the fabric, already strung with yarn and started sending it in and out of the chalked in dots, tying knots at each one before moving on. 
Hyrum went to his side where his needle was. He hadn’t gotten as far as Ephraim had as his fingers weren’t as good as Ephraim’s. The vampire had promised Hyrum that his fingers would heal eventually, but it was really annoying while he had to wait.
Still, he did notice an improvement as he poked the needle down through, and then up again, using his other hand to make sure that the yarn didn’t knot up underneath. 
“Goldenrod.”
Hyrum looked up expectantly, his tail swishing back and forth behind himself still. 
Ephraim smiled and said, “After dinner I’m planning on going down to the village. The traveling merchant should be here by now so we can see if they have some things for you. Do you want to come with me and help me pick out your clothes?”
“Really?” Hyrum asked. He nearly shouted out his agreement when it struck him that they would be going down into the village. His tail slowly came to a stop and he looked down, fidgeting with the yarn. “Is it safe?”
“Oh yes. It’s very safe. There are some other wolves down in the village too. They might want to introduce themselves… would you be up for that?”
Hyrum bit his lip. He wasn’t sure about going down to the village. It sounded dangerous. Jack had always drilled it into his head that if anyone saw Hyrum, they would try and kill him, but… Ephraim told the truth more often than not as far as Hyrum could tell. He was even right in how to make a weapon stronger, despite the way Jack proclaimed himself to be the best weapon maker in the kingdom. 
And if Hyrum was going to be Ephraim’s weapon, then he certainly could be strong enough to go down to the village with him!
“I want to go,” Hyrum said with a determined nod, going back to sewing. 
“Alright. And if you change your mind, let me know. I know it’s almost bedtime so I don’t want to make you do too much if you’re tired.”
Hyrum smiled to himself. He had been feeling less and less tired as of late, and he was sure he could handle a walk down to the village. He tried not to think about how there would be people who would want to talk to him though. How was he supposed to address them? Would they want him to talk to them, or would they just want to look at him like some of Jack’s friends did. That was the only bad thing about living with Ephraim. Things were so unpredictable and Hyrum didn’t know how to handle half of it, but Ephraim was patient with him and explained things until he understood, so he wasn’t too worried. 
An unbidden thought popped into his mind that surprised him enough he stopped sewing again. I suppose I could just ask him. 
Hyrum pondered over the thought and realized it was true. He was confused about something, he didn’t know how he would handle a situation that he knew was coming, and he could easily ask Ephraim about it before the vampire eventually noticed he was confused and explained it for him anyways. All he had to do was ask, and Ephraim practically beamed everytime Hyrum asked him a question. 
Hyrum opened his mouth to do just that when Ephraim lifted his nose, closing his eyes. Hyrum did so as well, curious and opened them again to see Ephraim leaving the room. “Dinner’s ready, sweetheart.”
Hyrum followed quickly, the question blown out of his mind over the thought of food. He sat down as Ephraim ladled some stew into a bowl for him. 
“Be careful,” Ephraim warned. “It’s hot.”
“Oh,” Hyrum said, picking up his spoon. He lifted a chunk of meat out and touched it to his lips. It was hot so he backed off, licking his lips. The flavor of the residue was heavenly, though, and it took all of the werewolf’s self control to not just take the burning cube into his mouth. 
Ephraim smiled and spooned some food up for himself, blowing on it for a moment before eating it. 
Delighted for an answer, Hyrum blew on his like Ephraim did, carefully. He waited a moment, blew on it one more time for good measure which got a little chuckle out of Ephraim, and then put it in his mouth. He closed his eyes as the meat pretty much melted in his mouth, and his tail thumped heavily against the chair again as he savored it. 
Ephraim was done before Hyrum was as the werewolf made sure that each bite wouldn’t burn him before standing up and putting his bowl in the kitchen basin. 
“Alright,” Ephraim said, walking over to the door where he put on his gardening boots. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Hyrum said, coming to stand by him. 
Ephraim grabbed his sun hat and they stepped outside. It was late morning now, nearly bedtime for the vampire and werewolf, despite the pull Hyrum had to stay up and run around. He was glad for the chance to go with Ephraim outside. The sun soaked into the overlarge garments Hyrum was wearing, and he twisted the fabric to pull it closer against his skin, enjoying the warmth. 
As they got to the steepest part of the hill, Hyrum was having a hard time staying steady on his feet. His legs, despite feeling much better, still always ached and the fact that he couldn’t feel the bottoms of his feet made it difficult for him to stay balanced on inclined slopes. 
Ephraim slowed down and held out a hand for Hyrum, and the werewolf took it with both of his as he stumbled. 
Ephraim walked slowly with Hyrum, keeping him steady as they went. Halfway down the hill, Hyrum looked up from his feet to the little village sprawled below and remembered the question he was going to ask. 
“Erm… Ephraim?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“What, um, what do I do if people talk to me?”
Ephraim looked down at him, a little surprised, but his smile came back just like it always did. 
“Right, sorry. I should have, ah. Well, when someone sees you they’re likely to ask you your name.”
“And I tell them?”
“Yeah, if you want,” Ephraim said. 
“Can I tell them my name is Goldenrod?” he asked eagerly. 
Ephraim smiled. “Sure. You can definitely tell them that. And then they might ask you about your day and you can tell them. If you get tired I’ll let them know, okay? If you're overwhelmed, I’ll jump in.”
“Okay,” Hyrum said, relaxing a little.
“And if the werewolves come over,” Ephraim continued, which made Hyrum tense up again, sensing this was going to be a little more complicated. “They’ll probably want to smell you first and you can smell them back. They’ll be really excited to meet you so they might be a bit much, but I’ll try and let them know to calm down, okay?”
“Okay,” Hyrum replied and Ephraim smiled.
“I’m actually pretty excited about this. The villagers have been asking about you. I told them a little about what happened and they have actually been a huge help getting me some extra food for you,” Ephraim said as they reached the bottom of the hill where the path went from tramped down grass to dirt. “They’ll love you.”
Hyrum puffed up under Ephraim’s arm, warm and happy as they made their way past the first building. 
There were people gathered around a large cart with two huge animals hooked up to the front of it, stamping hard feet and throwing back huge heads with long manes. 
“What are those?” Hyrum asked, trying not to imagine how much it would hurt to have one of them stomp his toes. 
“Those are horses. They’re pretty friendly, but try not to stand behind them. They can kick when they get frightened,” Ephraim said soothingly, though that didn’t make Hyrum feel all that much better. 
As they approached the cart, people turned and Hyrum did not miss the way their eyes lit up when they saw him.
“Hi, Ephraim!” one woman with three children said as she walked over to greet them and Ephraim took her hand in his free one with a huge smile. 
“Good morning, Anna,” he said warmly. Hyrum pressed himself against Ephraim’s side as much as he could as the three children stared at him, sizing him up. 
The smallest boldly took a step forward and opened her mouth, but Anna cut her off by stooping down and picking her up, making her giggle. 
“Are you here to get something for Hyrum?” she asked, having successfully distracted her youngest, though the other two kept staring at Hyrum. The werewolf wished he could have known this was a possibility. He didn’t like just being stared at. 
Ephraim stepped sideways a little, gracefully hiding the fact that he stumbled because of how hard Hyrum was pressed to his side. “Yup, we certainly are. It’s good to see you.”
“And you,” Anna said with a nod, shooing her children off towards one of the houses. “Have fun, Hyrum.”
The werewolf nodded a little, and Ephraim led him farther down the road towards the cart. 
“Oh!” a deep voice said, surprised as Ephraim stepped up to stand behind a small line of people at the cart. 
A large man had turned around and looked down at Hyrum. Hyrum had never felt smaller as the huge man smiled at him. He was taller and broader than Ephraim, but he had a friendly enough smile, a bit like Ephraim’s. 
“Hello, little one. What’s your name?” the man asked, making his deep voice softer. 
“G-Goldenrod,” Hyrum said, glad to be hiding under Ephraim’s arm. 
“Oh, like the flower? That’s very nice,” he said warmly. “I’m Guntar. I’m the butcher. I sell Ephraim here his blood.”
Hyrum looked up at Ephraim and he nodded. “Yes he does, like his father before him.”
Guntar smiled. “Are you excited to look at what’s on the cart?”
Hyrum thought about it for a moment. He shrugged and Guntar chuckled. “There are some pretty cool things on it this time, from what I hear. Old Morticai’s outdone himself if the toys the wolf boys were carrying off were anything to go by.”
“Hmmm, I hadn’t thought of that,” Ephraim said, mostly to himself. “Goldenrod, would you like a toy? Something to play with?”
Hyrum had no idea what he was talking about, so he just shrugged. 
“Well, we’ll have a look when we get to the cart, then.”
Hyrum nodded, still tucked under Ephraim’s arm as they made their way through the line. 
Ephraim was glad to get to the front and Morticai grinned. “Ephraim! My favorite customer! And who’s this?”
Ephraim looked down at Hyrum who seemed to be rather done with meeting people so Ephraim said, “This is Goldenrod. I’m actually here to buy him some clothes, and perhaps a toy or two. He’s, ah, he’s had a rough go of it so far.”
Morticai’s flamboyant mustache drooped. “Yes, yes I can see that. Let’s see if we can get that squared away then!”
Moticai worked fast, knowing his merchandise well, and soon, they had two sets of trews and two tunics, both sets a bit big for the werewolf in anticipation for him growing out a bit. Ephraim was planning on getting up early to talk to some of the empty nesters and see if they had some clothes he could borrow from them as well, just in case. If Hyrum grew into being a werewolf a bit more, he’d need more clothes as he ran these into rags.
“Now, as for toys,” Morticai said, pawing through a crate. “Mmm, what do we think about this?”
He passed Ephraim a wooden bird with some gaps in the wood. A quick shake made a marble inside rattle around. Ephraim saw Hyrum’s ears prick up and he gave the werewolf the toy to look at. 
“Works for me. Thank you.”
“Oh, of course. And did you want to have a look at the blubs I brought.”
“Oh, if I must,” Ephraim said, delighted. Could Hyrum go around to the other side of your cart while I look?”
“Of course!”
Hyrum gratefully took the opportunity to run around the cart and hide from everyone in line. 
“Now, I have some more tulip bulbs-”
“Oh, goodness no, I have plenty. Say, did you have any peonies?” 
“I do! And some beautiful puzzles that I know you’d like to have a look at here.”
Ephraim delightedly went through the goods, distracted by them and Morticai’s tales of the cities that he didn’t hear Hyrum’s small gasp of fear and the small sound of a marble rattling around in wood. 
Part 10
Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff @honeycollectswhump
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fall0utmind · 3 months ago
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MEDICAL LEAK AU PT 5 UP NOW
AO3 here
Gonna link pt 1-4 below tomorrow (I need to sleep) but for now, find them on my medical leak au tag on my page :)
I am so fucking sorry for the delay!!
Work has been manic, I basically rewrote this whole thing cause I hated it and now I am sick - woooooo
Anyways, I hope you enjoy it, I'm actually proud of this one, after the long rewrite.
Please, please, please come talk to me about what you think and what you wanna see!!! I need motivation to finish this.
Normal tags and warnings apply :)
(Tw/ suicidal thoughts, overdoses)
Alex had warned them that this is how Marc deals with things. He bottles it up until he can’t anymore, and then he goes somewhere private where he can lick his wounds and let himself fall apart. Watching Marc be so vulnerable, his usual mask of untouchable indifference falling away, is devastating. Jorge holds Marc closer as he trembles, small tremors wracking his frame. He looks incredibly young, curled up in between the older riders. Marc is completely lost in his thoughts now, distress radiating off him. He has been mostly silent, apart from the occasional miserable noises. Now though, he begins to cry, his face moving to press into Jorge’s shoulder as his body shakes with the force of his sobs, uncaring of who he’s clinging to. Marc and Jorge have never been that close, but the older man feels protective of him, in part because the 2015 fallout centred so much around his championship win, but also because of Dani’s soft spot for Marc. Jorge knows it was a big sign of trust for Marc to allow him to stay and witness this, especially from a man who is usually so guarded.
It’s unclear what Marc is imagining in the depths of his mind, but he has begun to slur words in between his sobs. Most of the words are incoherent, but Valentino’s and Alex’s names are clear, alongside the interchanging wrecked pleas to both end his suffering and let him live. Seeing so clearly the devastation Marc has suffered is horrific for them all, but Alex most of all looks gutted, like his heart has been shattered. He has heard those pleas before, back in 2015 when he found Marc and when he had saved his life.
It is this that prompts Jorge to gently shake Marc to awareness, knowing the pain is too much, too dark. Once the medication wears off, he will be ashamed of his weakness. It does not matter how natural or understandable his reaction is, especially after all the shit he has had to deal with; he hates vulnerability. The only thing his friends can do is sit with him during the fallout.
“Marc”
The younger man stirs slightly, choking on a breath as he sobs. He clutches at Jorge weakly, trying to catch his breath in between his cries.
“Cazzo, Marc, you’re ok, you’re ok.”
*
Marc returns to his body with a pounding head and a sore throat, which only ever occurs when he has cried himself dry. He’s a mess; the memories which assaulted him are still at the forefront of his mind, making him feel sick to the stomach. He is in the weird stage where the medicine is wearing off but still making him feel hazy; everything is soft around the edges. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out. He rubs at his face and notices his cheeks are wet. He would usually be mortified by the idea of crying in front of everyone, but he can't bring himself to care in the circumstances. He feels wrung out and over-tired. He knows his eyes will be red and his face blotchy and he frowns at the thought. Dani breaks the silence first, handing Marc some water.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like shit, but also somehow better. I’m sorry for losing it like that-”
Dovi interrupts him before he can finish that thought, fury simmering in his voice.
“Don’t you dare apologise. I don’t care what he taught you about having to hide away, but you don’t have to with us. We know you’re strong, but you don’t have to be strong right now. Not here, not with us.”
Marc gulps back more tears and instead smiles sadly at Dovi, unwilling to touch upon the reference to Valentino. Instead, he turns to look at his younger brother, who looks distraught; it makes him frown slightly. He hates the thought of causing his brother’s sadness. In Marc’s opinions, it is the worst thing he can do, and he has done it often in the last few years. Guilt spikes through him. Alex catches his eyes and shakes his head, knowing exactly what Marc is thinking, as fine-tuned as they are to each other's emotions.
“It’s not your fault, germà. I would take all your pain if I could.”
It makes Marc’s heart break a little. He addresses all of them, his little group of friends, of protectors. These people have seen him at his worst; they have refused to leave when Marc was on rock bottom, and they stuck with him when the world hurled abuse at him. Without them, he would be unmoored in the ocean, drowned by the waves.
“Thank you for staying.”
It’s Jorge who answers.
“Of course.”
*
The waning effects of the medication become clear as the bruises splashed across Marc’s body begin to ache. His shoulder is sore, and the muscles surrounding the joint are tight and stiff, causing him to shift uncomfortably. Alex catches his brother’s poorly concealed winces and hands Marc the rest of his approved dose without a comment. Marc tries to protest; the thought of having more drugs, of needing more, makes him feel queasy. Marc’s relationship with the medication is still rocky. It makes him feel weak and defenceless. It reminds him of dependence, hospital visits, and overdoses. Every time he has those little white pills in his hands, he sees Alex’s blurry face hovering over him, shouting his name, his panic choking him. He hates it. But he knows that if he wants to sleep tonight, he needs to take the stronger stuff that he is prescribed. After Jerez and his arm, normal ibuprofen doesn’t do much for his pain. Alex's eyes are pleading, desperately attempting to convey that Marc is safe here. That he can be vulnerable; he doesn’t have to sit with the pain. The others watch on sadly. Dani feels guilt clawing at him that he didn't notice in 2015 and beyond. When they were still teammates, Marc wouldn’t take the pain medication he was given. Dani always thought it was some weird pleasure of the pain that came from racing and crashing. And then later, perhaps a sick self-punishment for making a mistake. Although he now realises the latter is partially true, he is kicking himself for not digging up a further meaning. He’s not the first to notice Marc’s aversion to medication; it had been a weekly fight with Honda between 2015 and 2020. Nobody was aware of the reason. Why Marc went from hating the sight of the tablets to taking as many as he possibly could after Jerez was less of a mystery. For Marc Marquez, when choosing between not riding or traumatic memories, he’ll always choose the emotional anguish. He swallows the pills.
Alex smiles gently at him, pushing a container of pre-prepared food towards him. Marc turns up his nose; he had already eaten something earlier.
“Eat, you’ll be high as hell if you don’t”
“Not hungry”
Marc pouts, and Christ Alex forgot how obstinate and immature his brother could be, especially after taking his medication. The image of 31-year-old Marc behaving like a toddler makes Dovi chuckle in amusement.
“Marc, you have to eat something-”
“No.”
“Marc, for God’s sake, you can’t just not eat.”
“But I don’t want that. I’ll have a protein bar.”
Their fight is interrupted by a loud knock at the door and a voice calling from outside.
“Marc?”
Anxiety grips Marc, argument forgotten. Instead, he imagines another fervent Rossi fan clawing at their door. Alex jumps to his feet, freezing as the voice speaks again.
“Marc, come on, I know you’re in there, the lights are on.”
Confusion engulfs Alex as he approaches the front of the motorhome, trying to place the somewhat familiar voice. He cautiously unlocks the door and peeks outside, blinking against the darkness. Shock colours his features, his eyes widening as he stares before he comes to his senses and attempts to slam the door shut. The only thing keeping it from closing completely is the foot of their surprise visitor.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Alex practically growls
“Is Marc here? I want to talk to him. Please.”
Dani joins him at the door, ready to help if things get out of hand. Pecco glances between the two Spanish men before letting out a melancholy sigh. Bez is fidgeting behind the world champion, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Alex definitely fancies slamming the door then, even more unimpressed by the sight of the younger Italian.
“I hate that all of this has happened, and I hate even more that we’ve been pitted against each other for no reason. I just want to talk; please can I come in?”
Pecco looks so forlorn standing outside their motorhome, his face open and honest. Marc must recognise the voice more than Alex does, as he calls out to his brother.
“Let him in, Alex.”
Marc is most likely not thinking clearly, and Alex is on the verge of saying no. Instead, with a disgruntled sigh, he steps aside to let Pecco in, looks at Bez, and then grudgingly concedes that he cannot tell him to fuck off. After shooting an exasperated look at Dani, he follows him back to the group of athletes lounging on their couches.
It turns out 7 fully grown adults are a few too many in the cramped space. Pecco takes the empty seat next to where Alex has sat back down, Bez awkwardly squeezing next to him. Marc stares with wide, clouded eyes, his hackles raised; he wasn’t expecting Bez. Although his relationship with Pecco is fairly neutral (probably due to his ambivalence to the whole Valentino situation) Bez and Marc have never been on good terms, the younger always jumping at the opportunity to defend his mentor. Marc frowns at them, untrusting, while his friends protectively shift closer to him. Clearly, from their baffled expressions, Bezzecchi and Bagnaia did not expect to see Marc huddled with Andrea Dovizioso and Jorge Lorenzo on the sofa.
*
Pecco is trying his hardest to comprehend the scene before him; he had not anticipated meeting the three retired riders alongside the brothers. He tilts his head slightly, examining the way Jorge and Dovi appear exasperated but pleased to have a clingy Marc Marquez sprawled on them. Marc himself looks pretty content at their proximity, which is strange; he didn’t think Marc was that close to either of them. Bez and he have clearly intruded, obvious from the disarray of everyone in the room. Marc has been crying, which is surprising in and of itself. Additionally, he appears to have taken some pretty strong painkillers – unsurprising after his crash but surprising after the most recent news reports. He turns towards Alex to voice this, but the younger Marquez beats him to it.
“He doesn’t need supervision these days, but if he is bad or, you know, unhappy, I keep his medication and watch over his dosing. He’s fine.”
Pecco nods in understanding, some of his concern lessening. An awkward kind of quiet falls over the group, no one knowing what to say. Strangely, Marc cannot guess the meaning for their visit, too used to other riders only turning up to pick a fight. Pecco is not one for dramatics, preferring to reign in his emotions, unlike his mentor and his friend. Marc breaks the silence first, curiosity beating pride.
“What are you here for, Bagnaia?”
That earns him a wry smile.
“I want to know if you’re okay.”
“Why do you care?”
The others tense in anticipation as Pecco visibly steals himself. He has found the last 24 hours difficult, fighting an internal battle of morality versus loyalty ever since the fateful press conference.
“I don’t hate you, Marc, and I don’t want to. Honestly, I think with time, maybe next year, we could be friends. I respect your talent, and yes, of course, sometimes I think you ride like a maniac, you take risks, and you are brutal on the track. But that is what makes you so good, so impressive. It is why you have 8 championships; I would be a fool to disregard that. Not only that but you love fiercely. I have seen the way you treat your friends and family, and I admire that.”
Marc thinks he might be dreaming; he pinches himself to be sure. Jorge notices and pushes his hand away with a scowl.
“Don’t lie. You all hate me because of him and his lies. I do not need you messing with my head as well. I see the way your academy copies him, echoing his venom, believing every word and taking his side. My life was hell back then, and you weren’t there to witness it. He ruined my life and tore everything from me. I know he thinks that I ruined his career and whatever other poison the man he calls a best friend fed him. I know he was angry and upset. But I was so young. It has been a decade. He won’t leave me alone. Don’t you understand? I raced to die; I risked it all in a passive attempt to not return to the pits. I just wanted him to look back at me; I wanted my hero to forgive me. Then after Jerez, when he didn’t even say anything and I gave up hope, I just took medication to cope. But Valentino and your precious academy can’t see that. No, instead I am reckless and selfish, only thinking of myself. It is not fair; none of it is fair.”
He feels Jorge tense underneath him and that revelation and knows that he has shared too much, but it is too late now. Pecco is observing him with sad eyes and Bezzecchi looks horrified.
“No, Marc, I do not hate you. I am sorry for the loathing you have felt. People like to push Valentino’s legacy onto me. We are not the same person. This is not my battle, and I refuse to be sucked into Vale’s fights from before I was even on the track. It is stupid.”
His eyes are glazed over and wet as he looks directly into Marc's. The anguish in them makes Marc flinch.
“My sister fought similar battles; it was the hardest time of my life.”
He meets Alex’s eyes, sharing a look of understanding at their joint hurt.
“I know you don’t believe me; I see that you have been hurt before. I hate that you have experienced such awful things, and I hate even more how you are being treated for it now. I am sure Alex feels how I do about Carola; it was the worst pain in the world. I would have given my life ten times over for her. It still hurts you and maybe it will always be raw, but I wish it was not like this.”
Bez lays a hand on Pecco’s shoulder, a show of silent support, prompting Marc to turn towards the youngest Italian.
“And you, Bezzecchi? I know you hate me; you have made that abundantly clear, so why are you here?”
Bez looks away at the accusation, guilt filling him. It is not in his nature to question someone he is loyal to.
“I- I realised I maybe took too much at face value. It is true that I did not like you, or more so the way you ride. But I also didn’t understand you or what you were going through. I guess that I want to make amends for that. And I did not want to leave Franci alone.”
Marc hums, considering Bez’s offer, before he nods, too exhausted and intoxicated to give it any more thought. Whatever, if Bezzecchi wants to be here, then fine, so long as he doesn’t cause any more pain. Rather, Marc returns his attention to Pecco with genuineness in his eyes.
“I’m sorry about your sister. It is difficult. I hope she’s in a better place now.”
Pecco’s eyes widen in shock, and Marc huffs out a laugh.
“She’s doing better now, thank you. I think you will get on with her well next year; she comes to all the races with me and the team.”
The Italian smiles tentatively, and Marc smiles back, quietly pleased about this admission from his future teammate. Bez glances between them with a frown, still unsure about the tentative truce they have formed. Instead, he turns towards Dovi, who is still eyeing him suspiciously, and shoots him his very best puppy eyes. The older man rolls his eyes at the display before roping Bez and Pecco into a conversation in rapid Italian about the season so far. Dani and Jorge are whispering quietly, the latter still petting Marc’s hair gently. The atmosphere has returned to its tranquil state, once more lulling Marc into a hazy headspace.
Concern is vibrating through Alex as he watches his brother doze. He can’t help but feel like this has all been a little bit too easy. The boys had looked flustered when they turned up, like they had hurried over, as if something had happened just beforehand. He tries to shake off the feeling, standing up and heading into the kitchenette. He grabs a protein bar from the cupboards and chucks it at Marc when he re-enters the main room, causing his brother to startle and glare at him. Dovi snickers at their antics; of course Alex had not forgotten about their previous scrap, much to Marc’s annoyance.
“Eat it.”
Marc scowls but dutifully rips open the packet and starts munching the bar, not before sticking his tongue out at his brother.
“So mature, Marc.”
This prompts a fit of giggles from the older as he continues to eat. Bez and Pecco look on in bewilderment at this version of Marc, the drugs making him more relaxed than they have ever seen. They are shuffling awkwardly as if they’d be kicked out at any minute, feeling a sensation of imposition at seeing the soft person in front of them. Marc rolls his eyes, looking strung out but content.
“Stay?”
And that settles it.
*
In all his stubborn glory, Marc refuses to move off his friends, citing comfort and fatigue as justifications. Alex grumbles good-naturedly about his perpetual clinginess on pain medication, prompting Marc to snuggle closer to Jorge, rubbing his face into the older man’s shoulder and startling a laugh out of him. Pecco looks at Dovi questioningly, his forehead furrowed into a frown, looking for any indication of jealousy in the older Italian but not detecting any. Jorge instantly notices and does not attempt to conceal his laughter laughter.
“Do not worry about it. Dovi hogs Marc the rest of the time; I am allowed him now whilst he is still high as a kite”
Marc pulls away to pout at him, denial on his lips. Before he can begin his argument, though, Alex speaks up, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Tell me about it; you should have seen them earlier. Dovi was practically eating Marc alive with his eyes; it was fucking ridiculous.”
Marc goes bright red at this comment, spluttering out an excuse. Dovi just looks unabashedly smug, meeting Alex’s eyes.
“Hey, when there’s an attractive shirtless man on the sofa when you enter the room, what else are you meant to do?”
Marc directs his glare towards Dovi, an unimpressed frown on his face at the betrayal, but frankly, with the medication softening him, he just looks cute. Dani and Jorge are cracking up at the thought, which only causes Marc to get more annoyed, his cheeks flaming hot.
“Ah, I did not know that you two-”
Both Dovi and Marc jump to correct that assumption. Stumbling over each other to assure Pecco that they are not dating, despite what it looks like. Dani has been suspiciously quiet for most of the conversation, only now turning towards Marc with an insolent smile, meaning that he’s about to say something that Marc won’t like.
“Didn’t stop you from fucking in the past.”
You could hear a pin drop. Alex is whipping his head between his brother and Dovi, his jaw dropped in shock. Marc somehow goes even redder before shoving his face into his hands and groaning, confirming Dani’s statement and prompting the entire group to lose it. Dovi just looks proud and completely unashamed, turning back to Jorge and Dani with a raised eyebrow.
“Like you two can talk.”
“Touché.” replies Jorge with a shrug, hand on Dani’s knee.
Alex feels like he’s losing grip on reality,
“When? When the hell did you two hook up?”
“Ah, 2017, 2018, on and off” answers Dovi.
The others are laughing hard now, even Bez and Pecco giggling at the horrified expression on the youngest Marquez’s face.
Alex speaks once more, recovering quickly as though he is clearly used to his brother’s antics. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice,
“Jesus Marc, what is it with you and shagging older men?”
Pecco chokes at that comment, wheezing a breath through the shock. The others are basically in tears and even Bez is grinning. Marc just looks at his brother’s smirking face and promptly lobs a pillow in his direction - it hits him in the face, causing Marc to crack up. When they all catch their breath, Pecco broaches something that has played on his mind all day.
“Valentino had mentioned something earlier, about you and Dovi-”
Pecco immediately realises his mistake in bringing up Vale. The room pauses awkwardly, and all eyes turn to Marc, whose eyes are still foggy, his limbs lose. It causes him to speak without thinking.
“Ah, he is being a dick; he saw me in Dovi’s jumper and jumped to conclusions. Lord knows why he cares.”
“When the fuck did you see Valentino?”
“Ah, just before the sprint race, he cornered me, spilling some bullshit about ruining the race and being attention-seeking. You know what he is like. He always has loved to make sure I feel small.”
He turns his doe eyes towards Alex,
“It still hurts to hear him say those things about me. It hurts to look into his eyes and see fury and hatred. Not as much as it did then, but still”
Pecco realises then just how out of it Marc must be to let that slip. He gulps, uncomfortable with the pain in his voice, pain that he would usually hide away from the world. Bez looks away. Watching tonight’s interactions brings some new perspective to the academy riders- the quiet beginnings of doubt about their unquestioned deity. It’s difficult to reconcile Vale, their selfless teacher and friend, to Valentino Rossi, who had a rivalry with Marc so fierce the younger had been left picking up the pieces. The Marc in front of them is not the dangerous, deceiving rider they were taught about. This Marc looks at his brother and friends like they hold the universe; he is strong but soft around the edges. He is funny and unabashed in his affection. He loves fiercely and is loved unconditionally in return, a true sign of his character.
Alex is looking at his brother with such sadness in his eyes, reflecting his pain. He does not respond to Marc; he just holds out his hand. It is Jorge who speaks instead.
“I was so angry at Valentino in 2015. So angry at myself for not warning you. I saw it coming from miles away because Rossi could never deal with threats to his success.”
Bez begins to open his mouth, but Pecco elbows him, hard, well aware that now is not the time to stick up for their mentor, no matter how difficult it is to hear. Jorge goes to continue but is interrupted by another forceful knock on the door; it’s Alex who yet again opens it, finding himself face to face with an uncomfortable-looking Luca. The night is getting weirder and weirder.
“Is Pecco here? Or Bez? Nobody knows where they’ve gone.”
Alex opens the door wider, letting Luca see the two Italians on the sofas.
Luca steps inside, shutting the door softly behind him after glances outside worriedly. He gives the boys a pointed looks as he urges them up.
“Come on, we need to go!”
“What why?”
Bez was just starting to feel comfortable in this company; he doesn’t particularly want to leave right now. Luca looks away,
“Look, we just really need to go.”
There is another harsh knock on the door before it flies open. Valentino is standing at the threshold, staring blankly at the spectacle before him.
“What the fuck is going on?”
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kaye-go-moo · 4 months ago
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Shapes and Strange Ciphers AU: Need a hand? Pt. 1
SaSC by me
Shapes and Pines by @/void-dude
Next Part
Bill and Ford
While exploring one of Gravity Falls’ caves, Bill stumbled upon a wall covered in ancient text. Bill recorded his findings and translated the writing to reveal an incantation to summon an oval-shaped entity. Bill hesitated to try the summoning but felt he couldn't miss the opportunity to push past his plateau and continue his research. So he read the incantation aloud.
Later that day, Bill experienced an extraordinary dream. While floating through an infinite cosmos filled with books and scrolls, Bill was greeted by the creature pictured on the cave walls. A yellow, oval-shaped being with one eye and glasses at its center–part of its form appeared chipped away. The entity, underwhelmingly named Stanford, told Bill that he was there to help expand his research by acting as a ‘mentor’.
-
Bill, though wary in the beginning, grew to trust his new friend. Ford shared his knowledge of Bill's world and the oddities that resided in it–though never enough to satisfy the man. He would always leave Bill with a tease of new information, promising to teach him more later on. Like a fishing lure, Ford would use his extensive knowledge to reel Bill in and keep him close.
Ford also fed into Bill's narcissism, telling him that he was special and different from those who had summoned Ford in the past. This gave Bill the love and attention he so desperately craved, inflating his ego just enough to keep him happy and obedient. Before long, Bill was completely wrapped around Ford's finger, hanging on his mentor's every word, utterly infatuated. Ford believed Bill was ready for the next phase of his plan, but he had to be sure.
To test Bill’s commitment, Ford asked Bill to remove his lazy eye, reasoning that it was only holding him back and that doing so would prove Bill was serious about expanding his knowledge. Bill's lazy eye–something he was teased for while growing up, but also something that he and Tad had bonded over–was an innate part of his identity. But Bill didn't hesitate.
-
A few months later, Ford revealed that it was nearly time for him to leave, explaining to Bill that he didn't have anything else to teach him, and soon there would be no point in staying. Bill was caught off guard and desperate to keep his Mentor close. He frantically searched for an excuse to have Ford stay, telling him that he still has so much more to learn, not just about his world, but about Ford’s too. Bill’s desperation grew, overtaking his mind in hopeless pleas. Don’t leave me. Please. Please don’t leave me alone. Not again.
Seeing Bill's anguish over his leaving, Ford relented before offering a solution. He explained that it wouldn’t matter if he talked about the makings of his world because Bill couldn’t experience it for himself–unless he could. Ford admitted to knowing a way for Bill to explore not just Ford’s world, but countless others, hinting that he could also continue as Bill’s mentor–if Bill was fully prepared to expand his research. Bill jumped at the opportunity, swearing that he was ready. Ford revealed his plan: Bill needed to create a portal that would open a gateway to other worlds, allowing him to explore beyond the limits of his dimension.
Bill was eager to create the portal, especially since he could work on calculations with Ford. However, they still needed to gather materials and build the machine. After realizing that it would take far too long to do on his own, Bill called his old college friends–some lent him supplies, while others traveled to Gravity Falls to help him build. But Ford was not happy. He chose Bill to do the work, not his bumbling group of ‘friends’ with their useless degrees. What infuriated him the most wasn’t that Bill had gone over his head, but that he was right–things were progressing much faster with their help. But this didn’t matter to Ford. He already knew the sting of trusting the wrong person, so he wanted them gone.
Ford couldn’t outright tell Bill to kick his friend out, so he restored to planting subtle doubts in Bill's mind, suggesting that his friends might sabotage their work. Bill, initially confused, tried to reassure Ford that there was nothing to worry about. However, Ford persisted, slowly dripping poison into Bill’s mind. Slowly, Bill began to believe him. He started double-checking his friends’ work, scrutinizing the materials they brought, and analyzing their actions. Ford's words gnawed at Bill until he was on the brink of sending away his friends. It was only after Ford confided in Bill, sharing how trusting the wrong person had cost him everything, that Bill was fully convinced.
One by one, Bill began dismissing his friends with various excuses, though it was clear that he simply didn't want them around anymore. Over time, they watched Bill twist into someone they barely recognized–cold and distant, treating them less like friends and more like subordinates. Some tried convincing Bill to let them stay, but he wouldn't budge. He told them they were no longer needed and that he couldn’t risk their shoddy work jeopardizing his project. In the end, Bill all but called them stupid before severing ties and destroying his friendships.  
However, one friend, Jheselbraum, stayed behind. She sensed something was off and wanted to keep an eye on Bill, making sure he was safe. Jheselbraum would stop by Bill's home to check on him and hang out, and while he enjoyed her visits, Ford would always convince him to send her away. Eventually, Bill banned her from coming over, insisting he needed to focus on finishing his project and couldn’t afford any distractions. But Jheselbraum persisted, calling daily to check on Bill until she finally convinced him to let her at least drop off food.
Every time she visited, Bill was either locked away in the basement or gone from the house entirely. On the rare occasions she saw him, Jheselbraum noticed how worn down he looked–becoming more decrepit with each passing day. She tried talking to him, but he either ignored her or brushed her off, insisting he was fine and too busy with his project to worry about his appearance. The more she tried reaching out to help him, the further away he felt, like an ever-widening chasm. She could scream and still, he wouldn’t hear her, her voice swallowed by the void between them. Even when standing in the same room, Jheselbraum couldn’t help but feel they were miles apart, and it frustrated her.
It wasn’t long before Jheselbraum reached her breaking point. One day, she noticed a trail of blood leading to the basement and found Bill crumpled on the floor. She managed to get him out of the basement and into her car, wanting to take him to the hospital. But during the drive, Bill woke up and demanded she take him back home. He insisted he was fine and that a hospital visit would only waste more of his time. Jheselbraum tried reasoning with him but Bill rolled his eyes and muttered, “I knew you’d get in the way.”
Jheselbraum went silent, and her grip tightened on the steering wheel. She turned the car around, helped Bill back into his house, and placed him in a chair. She patched up his wound in continued silence. When she finished, she stood up, looked Bill in the eye, and told him that she was done. She wouldn’t be dropping off food or visiting anymore. She was through with him. However, Jheselbraum couldn’t bring herself to leave Gravity Falls completely. She was angry, but a feeling in her gut wouldn’t allow her to leave. Something was wrong. Though she couldn’t pinpoint what, she knew she had to stay–lingering around places she thought Bill might go, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Her actions more akin to monitoring a suspicious than simply looking out for old friend.
-
Now that Bill was alone, Ford concentrated his manipulation into pushing Bill further into isolation. He used Jheselbraum's leaving as proof that Bill couldn’t trust anyone–except for Ford. Yet, Bill began second guessing himself, more importantly, Bill geban second guessing Ford.
Bill tried his best to remain focused on building the portal, but doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind, festering until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. What exactly was Ford planning to do with the portal? Bill hated the thought–hated that he was question his mentor–but he couldn’t help it.
As soon as this doubt bubbled to the surface of Bills mind, Ford new instantly. Ford attempted to reassure bill, emphasizing that the portal was more beneficial for him than it was for Ford, stressing that his only concern was Bills success. However, this reassurance didn’t fully take hold, and Ford knew it.
Bill continued to build the portal, doubt still lingering in his mind. He didn't want to believe that his mentor had ulterior motives. Desperately, he clung to their friendship like a life raft in a vast, empty sea–though one of his own making. He wanted to believe Ford, to trust that their partnership was genuine. But as time passed, his doubts only deepened, and he bagan to long for his old friends.
Before Bill could act on his feelings, Ford intervened with further manipulation, choosing to have a ‘heart-to-heart’. He reminded Bill of their previous conversation about how trusting the wrong person had cost Ford everything. This time, he revealed that it was his brother who he had misplaced his trust in, leading to the loss of his family and his dimension–everything. Ford claimed that his journey for knowledge was meant to help others, serving as a way to overcome his past.
Ford also admitted that he had lied to Bill in the past, but not out of malice. He confessed that he was ashamed of his limited understanding of Bill’s dimension. Having always prided himself on his vast wealth of knowledge, Ford felt inadequate and uncertain about to teaching Bill. He explained that he feared Bill would take advantage of his naivety–just like his brother had. However, over the course of their partnership, Ford had come to genuinely trust Bill and was happy to call him a true friend.
Moved by Ford’s supposed vulnerability, Bill apologized to for doubting him, realizing that he had been wrong. Ford’s manipulation had work. Sensing the shift in Bills mind, Ford seized the moment to reveal a new ability: the power to control someone's body through their mind. He asked if he could try it on Bill. More trusting of his mentor than ever before, Bill admently agreed.
-
Weeks passed, Bill and Ford settled into a routine. When Bill was awake, he worked on the portal. But when he was asleep, Ford took control of his body and did the work to keep Bill alive–ensuring he ate, drank, and rested. Of course, Ford would also work on little side projects. Using the schematics of a former interdimensional follower, he created a tool that could erase memories, hiding it from Bill. Ford knew it was only a matter of time before one of Bill's pests would try to interfere, and he wanted to be prepared. It didn’t take long before he was proven right.
_____
Lore Comment
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sleepy-crypt1d · 2 years ago
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am i?? losing my mind here??
okay, so, like, subnautica, right?
recent news is that subnautica 3 is in production/in the works, hooray!! literally cannot be more excited about this, it’s my favorite game ever and i am so thrilled to see where the next one is headed but, i feel like, what the next one is going to be about is. . obvious?
who knows!! maybe im losing my mind here and i am just a tad too into these games so other people didn’t think about this but, sub3 is gonna be about the architect home planet. it has to be, doesn’t it?? 
the exact quote from the people working on the game is “I dream of visiting new worlds, exploring intricate alien ecosystems and lost civilizations. I don't think I'll ever get tired of the fantasy of making contact with intelligent life. I also dream about going on these adventures with friends. Getting lost, together.” and people are theorizing that the game takes place either in the past, showing 4546B a thousand years ago, takes place in the crater’s edge, or another unseen part of 4546B but. . .4546B’s story is done? the only loose end there is Ryley, who i would love to see again, but the planet’s mysterious have all been answered? i don’t know how they are coming to those conclusions when BZ perfectly sets up what the next game will be about?
“I dream of visiting new worlds, exploring intricate alien ecosystems and lost civilizations” this??? seems so much like they’re talking about exploring the architect homeworld??? new worlds implies we’re going to a different place, doesn’t it? and lost civilizations, yeah, going through the arc homeworld and piecing together what happened??
“I also dream about going on these adventures with friends. Getting lost, together.” some people are interpreting this as sub3 going multiplayer, which would be okay i guess, but wouldn’t this make more sense if it were referencing Al-An and robin???? especially with the line BZ ends with?? ‘with you, I am ready to face whatever awaits us’ like???
also the second game ended with a cliff hanger!!! it ended with showing us the architect homeworld!!! WHY WOULDN’T SUB3 BE ABOUT THAT???? WHY WOULD THEY SUDDENLY SHIFT THE STORY ENTIRELY??
i dont know, maybe im losing my mind here, maybe theorists on youtube know something i don’t but the plot of sub3 seems obvious to me, because BZ literally ended with showing us where the story was headed.
am i crazy? or have other people also realized that exploring the architect homeworld seems like the only logical next step in the story? to find out what happened? we found out what happened to sam and the game ends with robin promising they’ll find out what happened to the architects. why are people thinking ANYTHING ELSE would happen????
who knows, if sub3 comes out and im completely wrong, i will take that L and dig myself a grave but until then, i will hold this thought pretty confidently 
#subnautica#subnautica below zero#subnautica below zero spoilers#subnautica spoilers#subnautica al-an#is it because they hate BZ :(( it's because they hate BZ isn't it :(( god dammit#sleepy rants#these games are legit my favorite games in existence and BZ meant so fucking much to me - i adored that game!! it was so good!!#not every game needs to be a masterpiece - i had a wonderful time playing it and fell in love with the story/characters#that's all a good game needs#the story of the architects is so interesting and i would love to know more about them/their home and so many people just pretend-#-that they dont exist and it takes away such a big chunk of what makes subnautica the amazing game it is#sorry if i come off as bitchy here- i just care about subnautica a lot and seeing people completely ignore a major part of it sucks#al-an's story is so interesting!!! i love the arcs SO FUCKING MUCH!!! when i saw him for the first time i lost my SHIT#I WANT THE NEXT GAME TO BE ABOUT THE ARCS SO BADLY#TELL ME MORE ABOUT THEM#PLEASE#like i cannot tell if these people are willfully being ignorant to basic story telling mechanics or if they just. . . dont get it#it ended on a cliff hanger- the next game will be explaining that cliff hanger?#like sure we didn't get an answer to what happened to ryley word for word but we KNOW that alterra is pretending he doesn't exist!!#we know- in part- what happened to him- that's why it isn't answered#we find logs talking about how the aurora 'disappeared'#with no survivors#alterra is hiding his existence#also WE NOW HE'S IN SPACE- MYSTERY THERE SOLVED#SPACE#BUT WITH THE ARCS WE DON'T KNOW!!#WHY WOULD THEY SET UP AN ENTIRE GAME WITH THE MYSTERY OF TRYING TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED TO THE ARCS AND THEN JUST DROP IT???????#WHY DO THEY THINK THAT UW WOULD DO THAT???#angry
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euphor1a · 1 year ago
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Honestly, I shouldn’t have slept on revamping bewitched so much. I know I hate the way I wrote it and have to cringe at every word while editing and reworking on it but the characters were well-built despite my writing skills and the plot was pretty good 😔? I don’t think a ton of the readers who were hype about the series are around and it’s pretty hard to build a brand new audience.
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m0llygunn · 1 year ago
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every time I see someone liking each consecutive part of my unfinished series I actually become a cartoon character pulling on their collar
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allylikethecat · 7 months ago
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?!?!??!??!!??!?!???!? YOU CAN'T LEAVE OAF ON A CLIFFHANGER LIKE THAT STOP IT WHAT DO YOU MEAN GEORGE NEVER CAME BACK ?!??+*@(+(@[[@>+> NO I'm gonna DIE
Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter despite the cliff hanger!! I will admit that I felt much better about writing this chapter compared to the previous two.... angst is much more my comfort zone lol But also please don't die!! This particular fic WILL have a happy ending!! Eventually!! Don't worry!! Fictional!Matty is just going through it a little bit like always! BUT it will all be resolved!! Eventually! Thank you SO MUCH for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy OAF!! I also hope you are having the most wonderful Tuesday and a great rest of your week!
❤️Ally
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charliemwrites · 5 months ago
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(Re)organized Crime, Part 8!
I was going to wait a little longer to post this (I say, looking guiltily at the queue) but I felt bad leaving it on a cliff hanger!
Content: Attempted Breaking and Entering, Fear for Safety, Hurt/Comfort
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Four months ago, Simon drove you home for the first time.
It was a bad week all around. On Monday, Soap broke his arm. Gaz left with Farah and Alex on Tuesday for a business trip on the other side of the country. Wednesday brought about two dozen emails from Philip Graves’ wretched assistant, ugly pastel green borders framing each one. By Thursday, you almost weren’t surprised by the call about a lost shipment.
You were surprised when Price raised his voice at you, though.
“The fuck do you mean it’s missing?” he snarled.
You stood across from him with your tablet in hand, grossly unorganized logs open onscreen.
“I don’t think there are other ways I could mean it,” you answered lightly. “The crates left port and didn’t show up at the next one.”
You were scribbling on the screen, compiling the log into something more comprehensive. Purposefully not making eye contact because you could feel the angry heat radiating off him. It was making your hands tremble, but you’d be damned if you let it show.
“Well then where the fuck are they?” he demanded.
“If I knew that, sir, they wouldn’t be missing.”
“Are you taking the fucking piss?”
At that, you let out a heavy breath and looked up, expression flat. Price’s expression was dark, mouth tight. One hand gripped the arm of his office chair while the index finger of the other tap, tap, tapped his desk. You stared him down for a moment, reminding yourself to breathe with each uneven beat of your heart. Waited through a count of 20 before he huffed.
“Just find the damn thing,” he growled.
“Shall I use my crystal ball?”
You nearly jumped a mile when he barked your name in reprimand. And that was about the time you had enough.
“John.”
He froze. Across the room, so did Simon and Soap. You were so shocked by your own outburst that you came up a bit short as well. Didn’t even have a chance to gather more words when Price’s shoulders dropped. The anger melted away, replaced with apology and self-deprecation.
“Christ, luv, I’m sorry. Where have my manners gone?”
He ran a hand down his face, pinched the bridge of his nose where you were sure a headache was brewing.
“Thank you for the apology. I know this is important,” you soothed, softening your voice. “Give me 30 minutes and I’ll have a list of people you should yell at.”
He grimaced, “Take 45 for the trouble, darling.”
You used the extra fifteen minutes to brew him a fresh cup of tea and served it with a couple pain meds. When you’d delivered the analysis, he told you to head home early, that it would be a late night regardless and there was no need for you to do more than you already had. (It hadn’t helped the way that he’d ducked his head, still sheepish. You’d squeezed his wrist as you’d dropped off a list of damned names.)
With your usual drivers gone, Soap’s arm broken, and Price out to rip several people a new one, Simon drove you home.
He scowled in the vestibule while you fumbled for your keys. Then glared at the entryway as you trudged to the elevator. He grumbled as he accepted the invitation into your apartment, only to sneer (yes, you knew he was sneering even with the mask) at the doorknob and deadbolt.
“This place is a bloody deathtrap,” he finally declared, crossing his arms.
“It’s not that bad,” you replied, shaking your head.
“One solid kick and this door is coming down.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Then don’t kick it.”
“I’m sure a robber will be polite enough to knock,” he scoffed.
“The crime rate is good in this area,” you argued. Not great, but decent enough…
“Bloody hell. Did you even – are your fucking windows unlocked?”
You blinked. “We’re on the third floor, Simon.”
“I don’t give a rats arse—”
“And stop swearing at me.”
“—that you’re on the third floor. Lock your windows.”
You rolled your eyes but faltered when he narrowed his eyes, looming in the doorway like a fussy boogeyman. A clear indication that he did not plan to leave until you complied.
“You can’t be serious!” You were not whining.
“As the fu— as the damn plague.”
You snorted. “I think ‘damn’ is still swearing.”
He didn’t deign to respond to that, just arched his eyebrows. You mirror him right back, preparing to make a snippy comment about wasting company time.
“I’m sure Price would agree,” he said as you opened your mouth. You shut it with a snap.
Smug bastard.
You groaned but made a show of padding to all the windows and clicking the latches shut. Even when into the bedroom to secure those too. When you were done, he grunted in satisfaction and turned for the door.
“Lock this too.”
“I will, I will, I’m not dumb.”
You scrunched your nose at the skeptical grunt you received that time.
Before leaving, he pointed at you again, eyes narrowed. “Lock. Them. All.”
“They are!”
“From now on.”
“Yes, Simon.”
If you survive this episode of Dateline you’ve found yourself in, you owe him a scone and those nice cigarettes he pretends he doesn’t smoke.
“Open th’ fuckin’ door, Bunny!”
Your fingers twitch around the hilt of the knife. It’s not a big one, but it is serrated. That’s not going in or out without some serious damage. If not the fatal kind, at least the messy kind. Brandon’s not doing anything to you without leaving a crime scene investigator’s wet dream behind.
“Bunnyyyyyyyy!”
The banging starts again, nearly as fast as your heart. You could swear it gets louder every time. Maybe it’s just getting closer, layers of wood chipping away, closing the already too-small distance between you.
You glance desperately at your phone, but the screen remains damningly dark. Price promised he’d be here soon, but it feels like hours since you hung up to preserve what little battery life you had left. Your stomach churns as the pounding turns to thicker, harder thumps. Throwing his body into the door again, trying to force entry. Simon’s mutterings about kicking the door echo in your head.
You should have listened.
“Bun—fuck!”
You jolt as something slams into the door, nearly taking it (and the entry table you braced against it) down. There’s scuffling and scraping, muffled shouting, rapid footsteps— then silence. You hold your breath, every muscle in your body wound tight enough to snap.
“It’s alright now.”
You lurch from your protective crouch in the hallway, shove clumsily at the table. The mangled front door swings in crooked on one hinge, cracked and splintered from top to bottom.
And John is there on the other side.
You’re not sure if he reaches for you or if you throw yourself into his arms. All that matters is that he’s clutching you tight to his broad chest, tucking your head beneath his chin. Safe, protected. Your head spins as you lean into him, knowing that he’ll support you. His heart is beating hard against your cheek.
“John,” you breathe, now that fear isn’t squeezing your lungs in a vice.
“I’m here, luv,” he murmurs into your hair.
You’re shaking. Adrenaline seeps from your bones, takes all their heat and steel with it. You’re left cold and feeble in the aftermath, fingertips numb as they curl tight into his shirt. You don’t know where the knife is; you don’t care. You don’t need it now.
“H-He… He…” you start.
John shushes you, squeezes a bit tighter in reassurance. He knows; you don’t need to tell him, don’t have to remind yourself of what could have happened.
“Where…?” you try instead, but words are so hard. All the trembling must have knocked your voice loose, lost somewhere in the pit of your stomach.
“Soap and Gaz are taking care of it,” John says.
The last of the tension drains away. Your boys will scare Brandon off, maybe enough that he won’t ever bother you again. (The thought alone makes your eyes burn.) John is here now, and – when you peek out from around his bicep – so is Simon.
“You were right,” you mumble, “a-about the door.”
Simon winces. “I’m sorry that I was.”
Somehow, that’s what finally bursts the bubble of your restraint. You sob. It’s loud and sniffly and ugly. In the back of your mind, the part that can never just let you rest, you’re mortified to be doing this in front of your coworker. And on your boss’s nice shirt too. You have an image to maintain—
Except John’s broad hand is rubbing soothing circles into your lower back. He’s gathering you even closer, letting you shelter in his warmth and strength. Easing you through hiccups with quiet murmurs, telling you he’s proud and that you did so well to call him.
Through tears, you see Simon reach out. Scarred knuckles run gently down your wet cheek.
“We take care of our own, little miss.”
You warble out a broken little “Simoooon” that seems to break the solemn atmosphere, John sighing against your temple and Simon’s shoulders slumping in what might be fondness.
It’s not long before Soap and Gaz return, looking no worse for wear, thankfully. (Not that you think they can’t handle themselves – but Brandon was drunk and who knows if he had a weapon or not. Accidents happen.)
“Aw, lass,” Soap coos when he sees you. Calmer now, but still sniffling and wiping at stray tears. “He’s gone now. Won’ be botherin’ you again.”
You blink at the fresh blood on his knuckles and don’t ask. You believe him.
“Thank you.”
“Nothin’ to thank us for, doll. Should have taken care of ‘im earlier,” Gaz replies.
“Earlier?” John asks. He’s trying for your sake, you can tell, but you know him too well to miss the sharp note in his voice.
“Hadn’t had a chance to debrief, sir,” Gaz explains regretfully.
You untuck your face from John’s chest to be better heard, clearing your throat. “Still, for all four of you to come here…”
“What else would we do, sit with our thumbs up our bums?” Soap teases.
“That’ll do,” Simon snips, but you giggle anyway.
It doesn’t take much to convince you to leave your apartment – it takes a bit more to convince you to go to John’s. Unfortunately, you’re outnumbered, and while that normally wouldn’t be a problem, you’re not in a headspace to be stubborn, argumentative, or superficially brave.
All the boys have bachelor pads ill-suited to guests, especially on short notice. Maybe on some other night, under different circumstances, you would have insisted on a hotel.
But the idea of being alone in an unfamiliar place makes your skin crawl. You don’t want to be alone. You want to be near John.
“We take care of our own,” Simon said – so you let them.
Gaz, Soap, and Simon help to pack you an overnight bag, scattering to different corners of your apartment to collect items. In the meantime, you keep clinging to John because he keeps letting you. Exhaustion creeps at the edges of your mind, doubling gravity on your slumping shoulders.
“Did I interrupt something important?” you ask finally, voice hoarse.
“No, luv. Just a card game with some old friends. Soap was losing anyway.”
You sigh, relieved. At least you don’t have the loss of some important business deal weighing on your conscience.
“Poker again?”
“Kid can’t keep a straight face for the life of him.”
You hide your smile against his shoulder and appreciate the chuckle you feel more than hear in his chest.
Simon takes the lead out of the building while Gaz and Soap bring up the rear. You’re a bit self-conscious of any neighbors seeing you in this state, but thankfully none make an appearance. It’s too late in the evening for anyone to be coming in or leaving, and if there were any witnesses to Brandon’s bullshit, you never saw (or heard) them.
(“The hell is their problem, actin’ like they didnae hear that bawbag?” Soap grumbles. “Bystander effect,” you answer, shrugging. He grimaces in understanding, but still looks pissed.)
The car is warm when John bundles you into the back seat. Soap takes the wheel, Simon the passenger side. Gaz sits on your other side and leans his knee gently into yours.
“It’s over now, doll, you can rest. We won’t let anythin’ happen t’you,” he promises.
You smile wearily, lean in to drop a grateful kiss on his cheek.
“Don’t know what I’d do without you four,” you sigh as you snuggle into John’s side again.
“Don’t need to,” Simon answers gruffly, “we’re not goin’ anywhere.”
John hums in agreement, low and pleasant by your ear.
“You always take such good care of us,” he murmurs. Quiet, just for the two of you. “Let us return the favor for once, won’t you, darling?”
You want to resist. You should. You drop your head to his shoulder and sigh, “Okay.”
Between the gentle motion of the car and the pattering of a fresh rainstorm, you don’t stay awake for long. You nod off within four blocks of your apartment, peacefully unaware of the dazed and bloody body in the trunk.
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kisses4reid · 8 months ago
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missed it | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - you celebrate your birthday alone in tears, until someone knocks on your door.
genre - colleague!reid x fem!reader, angst, fluff
warnings - angst, crying, memories of neglect and favouritism
a/n - a little self indulgent. thank you for 450 followers!!!! taglist is open as always, sorry for the cliff hanger.
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Crisscross applesauce on a wooden barstool in front of leftovers from the night before. Exactly how every Wednesday night is. It’s raining, you can smell petichor, and you had just finished a book your colleague had lended you two days prior.
There is nothing special about today.
Your day was full of paper work and coffee breaks. Exactly how every Wednesday is. It was overcast, you could smell petichor, and you had just handed in some classified paperwork to your boss.
There was nothing special about today.
You night will be sleepless, full of tears and terrible memories. Not like every Wednesday night. It will storm, you’ll smell dirt and mud, and you’ll show up the next day to pretend you’re as bubbly and smiley as every one thinks you are.
There is nothing ever special about today.
You gripped your fork and stuffed the last of the leftover rice into your cheeks, chewing as a coping mechanism for the ball gathering at the back of your throat.
Glancing at your phone every two minutes didn’t help the gathering tears either, especially when it was a black screen every time. It happens every year.
Maybe your little cousin will send some emojis and a love heart, but it’s been years since that last happened. Your brothers and sister would get posts on your mothers Facebook, and you got a happy birthday from a distant aunty you met once when you were 3.
Maybe this is why when you dry yourself and start your nighttime routine, you light the candle you bought yourself, and get changed into pyjamas you bought yourself, and you light a skinny colourful candle you bought yourself.
You don’t get the chance to blow it out before a tear extinguishes it.
A sob rakes through you. Even in these warm pyjamas surrounded by your favourite vanilla and citrus scent, you can’t seem to be happy with what you’ve got. That’s what your father would tell you every birthday until you were 11 - when the presents stopped rolling in.
Be grateful for the clothes you’ve already got, for the books you’ve already read, for the food you’ve already eaten.
Be grateful that your little sister can breathe to blow out your candles, that your brothers have hands to open your presents.
Be grateful.
You are grateful you got that part time job to move out so young, that you were accepted in the BAU and welcomed with open arms, that it gave you the financial stability to own your own apartment with windows to get rained on and bookshelves to fill.
The covers on your bed were darkening with every tear that dropped from your cheek. It was ruining your skincare.
A laugh escapes you, barely audible through your closing throat, before you hear a firm knock on your front door.
Slippers on, hair loose and messy, you opened the door with a frown. It was not the day nor time for any soliciting or girl scout cookies. But you stopped for a second and glanced at the time displayed on your oven. It was 11pm.
“Y/n? Are you awake?”
Your eyes widened at Spencer Reid’s voice, eyebrows furrowing and hand quick to twist the door knob.
“Spencer what are you-“
“Happy birthday?” A full teeth smile was plastered on his place, but you didn’t notice as his face was hidden by a vanilla cake and small bag with plastic casing over it.
Any other time Spencer would be welcome in, it would make sense today wouldn’t be any different. For gods sakes, he has a key to your front door - but when his smile fades and you feel the last tear drop catch on your socks, you rethink opening the door all together.
“Y/n… are you okay?”
You felt a pit of coal and ash stir in the bottom of your uneasy stomach. Your eyes flashed between his eyes and the cake, one last single tear dropping down your cheek.
Spencer caught it with his thumb, wiping it with a deep frown.
“I’m fine,” you stepped back to let him in, plastering an awkward smile on your face (something you hoped would say caught me!), “Sad movie, that’s all.”
“A sad movie on your birthday?” He set down the bag and cake on your kitchen countertop, concerned expression not lifting after your lie. You bit your lip as his eyes wandered the apartment.
He had been there a million times, but now he seemed to be profiling it.
There was an orange stained plate in the sink - probably your left overs, no indent on the couch nor movie playing on the TV. He peered into your bedroom to find a wrecked bed and slouched pillows, tissues splayed amongst the duvet.
You swallowed, feeling caught and trapped. There was no escaping this, Spencer was too good of a profiler.
“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His eyes were a deep brown, glossy against his matte chocolate hair. He wore those glasses you liked, even when he insisted he hated how he looked in them. What a beautiful sight in such a sad situation.
You brought your left hand to your right elbow and shook your head, “It’s okay-“
“No it’s not.”
“Spencer, I’ve dealt with this for over 12 years. You get used to it.”
Spencer stood a metre away from you, eyes scanning you like he was trying to scrap the skin off your bones, see what was really going on.
And at that point, in your den of lies and self-pity, you felt no more rotten truths could hurt you more than you had hurt yourself. Spencer wasn’t much taller than you, but looking at him for this long at an angle was beginning to hurt more than your heart.
You grabbed the cake off of your counter top and smiled as if nothing wrong was happening, “Cake! You brought me cake.”
Spencer followed you into your living room awkwardly, “Yeah. It’s vanilla- I brought it because we didn’t eat at work today, nobody…”
Said Happy Birthday.
You nodded to yourself, patting the space beside you for Spencer to sit. “I know, it’s okay. It was a very busy day, I don’t blame them.” You undid the lid of the cake - obviously store bought - and took in your hand a wine glass that had stood empty for around half an hour. “Thank you, my favourite flavour is vanilla.”
“I know.” The tall boy let out a small smile then, but it quickly disappeared. He hated how you shrugged off such a devastating situation, how it meant nothing to you, how you claimed it had been like this for 12 years and not broken down.
“Y/n-“ Your loud sigh cut him off, stabbing the wine glass into the cake and lifting it, taking a bite of cake that slide out of the cup. The couch softened under your sudden slouch, Spencer faced you with his legs spread like a man.
Your eyes felt tight, chest collapsed. Nothing could be worse than this.
“My birthday is a week after my older brothers, so even when we did celebrate my birthday, it was small. And then one of my uncles passed away a few days after, and celebrating my birthday was seen as inappropriate.” You took another bite and talked through the frosting, “Instead at Christmas they let me choose which presents were for my birthday, many months late. I was grateful, that was all that mattered.”
Spencer moved closer and whispered, “Being grateful for neglect isn’t healthy, Y/n.”
“But it helped me, as a kid. As a girl who wanted to be loved so badly. When your siblings blow out your candles, and your cake is your sisters favourite flavour, all you can be is spiteful. And when I was, I was reprimanded. Be grateful, Y/n. At least you have siblings who can breathe and eat.”
You laughed after some time, Spencer’s mind racing at a hundred miles per minute.
“So I never told anyone my birthday. That’s why I showed up at the door looking like this,” you point to yourself and giggle, “I didn’t think anyone knew.”
“You look gorgeous.” He whispered, thigh touching yours on the plush couch. His hand lifted and skimmed your face, thumb moving to wipe a dot of frosting off of your lips. His hand fell.
“What’s in the bag?” You ask.
“Open it and see.” He replies.
What’s inside surprises you more than his initial arrival. It a medium sized glass bottle of perfume, with simple rinestones and gorgeous patterns engraved in it, a baby pink ribbon around its neck. The words were in french, the only words in english reading vanilla & citrus, in cursive writing.
A breath escaped you, your fingers tracing each detail like you were to memorise it. Spencer gulped as your eyes were glued to the writing and the shiny glass, how the liquid inside sloshed only slightly at every move.
“It is… do you like it?” He asks, turning his body towards yours trying to scope out your expression.
“I love it.” You mumble in awe.
“What?”
“I love it, thank you. Spencer, this is…” A wide smile escaped you, an incredulous giggle accompanying it. He let out a held breath and wove his shaking fingers through his hair. He was still at a loss for words at your previous confessions, but at least he made you happy, laugh.
Your eyes held each other for a moment, the room getting so suddenly small and hot.
“I…” you try to finish your sentence before you notice his gaze flickering to your lips, causing a small smile to appear.
“Happy birthday, Y/n. I’m sorry your birthdays were overlooked, I promise they won’t be anymore.” Spencer whispered, leaning in.
taglist (open!!) : @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
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heytheredelulu · 9 months ago
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ready to comply part 2? 👉👈
As you wish!
I may have left this one on a cliff hanger as well. 🫣
I’M SORRY! I was just having so much fun I had to leave it open in case there was interest for a part three. ❤️
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Ready to Comply - Part Two
Requested by @littleone2001
Soldat!Bucky Barnes x PlusSized!Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+
C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, gun play (sorry, not sorry), unprotected sex, rough sex, a lil boob slap (once, because I had to), spanking, fingering (f receiving), anal fingering (f receiving), brief discussion of kidnapping/making reader his sex slave
✏️ A/N at the end.
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“All I can smell is how wet you are.”
Oh fuck.
You muster up a small, broken sound from your chest when the realization finally hits you that your desire is overwhelming Bucky’s senses to the point that he’s struggling just to think.
“I-“
His fingers hook beneath the saturated fabric of your panties, his fingers grazing against your folds and igniting a heat in your body that sets your nerves on fire.
He tears them away, reducing them to a tattered rag in his fist which he brings to his nose and inhales deeply before he discards them to the floor with a growl.
He forces your thick thighs apart, spreading you open with his trembling fingers to observe your tight, wet hole as it clenches desperately around nothing.
“Fuck!”
His breath catches in his chest and he stumbles back, withdrawing the gun from his shoulder holster and brandishing it at you.
Your eyes widen as you snap your legs shut, raising your hands defensively and shrinking back in horror.
Bucky steps forward and presses the barrel of the gun against your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
“I’m sorry.” He chokes out.
“You’re going to kill me.” You whisper, fear taking hold as your eyes screw shut and a tear slips down your cheek.
He shakes his head slowly, tracing the cool metal of his weapon along your jawline. “No, I ain’t gonna kill you. Not yet.”
Your eyes open, your expression twisting into one of confusion. “Then why.. why are you sorry?”
He sets his jaw, lifting his left hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Because I’m gonna hurt you.” He rasps.
Your brows knit in concern. “What do y-“
Bucky cuts you short, replying only by dipping his gun between your legs, pressing it firmly against your bare, weeping cunt.
Your entire body seizes in terror but as he drags the cool, hard weapon along your slick folds, the fear gives way to something else entirely.
“You don’t wanna hurt me..” You say slowly, carefully, biting back a moan as the barrel of the gun grazes across your clit.
“But I do.” He taunts, pulling the gun away and gripping your jaw with bruising force. He presses it to your mouth, your slick coating the metal and wetting your bottom lip. “Open.” He growls, leaving you little choice with how hard he’s holding your chin. He forces the gun into your mouth, your eyes wide in apprehension. “Suck.” He demands, pressing it down on your tongue. You swirl your tongue around it, tasting yourself on the bitter metal. He groans, withdrawing it harshly from your mouth with a string of spittle and tucking it back into its holster.
“I’m gonna fuck you. And it’s gonna hurt.” He mutters, his calloused fingers moving to unbuckle his belt.
“Bucky y-“ He pinches your cheeks together painfully in his metal hand, effectively silencing you.
“Quit fuckin’ calling me that!” He snaps, using his grip on your jaw to yank you forward to him.
“Soldat.” He corrects in a menacing tone, nodding your head for you to ensure you understood.
“That is my name. I suggest you remember it, because you’re about to be screaming it.”
He releases your face harshly, reaching to pull his hard, thick cock from his jeans and spitting into his palm. He curls his hand around his impressive length and pumps himself lazily from base to tip, rubbing his thumb roughly over the slit and smearing beads of precum along his shaft to mingle with his saliva.
Your eyes follow every stroke of his hand as he closes in on you, your brain working to comprehend just how in the hell your body was going to accommodate his size.
He’s right. This is going to hurt.
He clutches the neckline of your dress with his free hand, ripping and tearing the fabric until you’re bared to him and he kneads at your breast roughly pinching the pebbled flesh of your nipple harshly between his fingers, drawing a small cry from you.
“Buc-“ You stammer.
He slaps your tit hard and you wince from the sting as it radiates across the tender flesh of your ample breast.
“Soldat.” He growls through clenched teeth, hiking your legs to rest your heels on his shoulders and tilting your pelvis upwards as he lines himself up with your aching entrance.
You suck in a sharp breath as the crown of his cock breeches your tight, wet hole and you writhe underneath him against the sting as he splits you open, stretching your cunt and filling you in a way you’ve never experienced.
A shameless moan erupts from your throat when he begins to snap his hips, fucking into you with a merciless rhythm. What was once pain is quickly building into pleasure and your back arches up off the desk.
“So fucking tight.” He grunts, his heavy sack swinging with every deep thrust into your dripping cunt. His jaw clenches and he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs, spreading you wider as he tucks his chin to watch himself disappear into your wet heat with a predatory gaze.
Pleasure builds in your abdomen and you rock your hips to meet his hungry thrusts, biting down on your bottom lip as his thick cock massages your inner walls. The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s biting back a smirk when he registers you eagerly moving in sync with him. He snakes a hand down between you, tracing his fingers along the girth of his cock where he’s filling you and gathers your slick along his fingertips, raising his hand and spreading his fingers to admire the sheen of your wetness with a thoughtful expression.
Without warning he withdraws, leaving you desperate and empty when he lets your right leg drop and curls his hand around your left ankle, flipping you hard onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and yanks you backwards towards him so you’re bent over your desk with the lip of it biting into your pelvis. He delivers a harsh smack to your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand, then dipping his head down to suck a bruise into the skin before biting down hard into your plump cheek. You yelp and raise yourself up on your palms, but Bucky splays a large, calloused hand across your back, forcing you back down and kicking your legs wider with the toe of his boot.
He plunges two fingers in your thoroughly fucked hole, coating them in your arousal before withdrawing them and sinking his cock back into your swollen cunt. Strangled noises of pleasure catch in your throat and you push your hips back greedily to meet him, your walls throbbing around him as ruts into you, his balls slapping against your clit and sending shockwaves through you with every brutal thrust.
He spreads your ass cheeks roughly, teasing his wet index finger along your backside, circling your puckered hole and causing you to squirm. He presses into you, working his finger in sync with his hips, massaging it into you until you manage to take him to the knuckle and he lets out a satisfied groan that you nearly drown out in your own wanton moan.
“Fuck.” He rasps out, pain blooming as he moves to add a second finger. You cry out at the intrusion, your hands clenching into fists above your head and your nails biting into your palms as he rocks his fingers into you, scissoring you open.
You thought you’d been full when it was only his cock but fuck, were you wrong.
It was too much.
It was too good.
The tension wound tight in your abdomen finally snaps and you completely shatter.
A choked sob rips from your throat and your pussy spasms, your walls fluttering around his cock and your asshole contracting around his fingers as you scream, your orgasm tearing through you with enough force to make your head spin and your ears ring.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
He slips his fingers from your tight hole, grabbing hold of your hips with both hands and slamming into you with unrelenting force, fucking you through each wave of euphoria as they crashed over you in succession.
“I’m gonna tell them I killed you.” He grunts, his cock kissing your cervix. “So no one will ever come looking for you.”
You mumble incoherently, tears of ecstasy staining your cheeks as you lay limp in the wake of your earth shattering release while he continues to pound into you at a steady pace.
“I think I’ll keep you tied to my bed.” He whispers in a menacing tone, his thrusts growing frantic as he chases his impending orgasm. “I’m gonna fuck every hole in your body, every day, until you can’t fucking take it anymore.”
Bucky snaps his hips forward in one last powerful thrust and then stills, shouting a string of curses as his cock pulses and he pulls your plump ass flush to his pelvis, emptying himself deep inside of you.
He tilts his head back, his chest rising and falling erratically and then pulls out, staggering back as you rise up and turn to face him with flushed cheeks and hair slicked against your sweaty forehead.
“Get dressed.” He orders, tugging his jeans up and fastening his belt. “You’re coming with me.”
You nod and move on weak knees, feeling his cum slowly leaking from your cunt as you gather your blazer. He watches you carefully as you pull it on, buttoning it in an attempt to cover your naked body.
Bucky holds out his hand impatiently and you take it, cautiously moving closer to him, your thighs sticky as they rub together with every step you take.
You place a palm flat against his chest and he looks down at you with his brows furrowed in confusion at your gentle gesture before you rise up on your tiptoes, pressing your mouth against his. He stiffens momentarily but quickly reciprocates, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip in a silent demand to deepen the kiss. You comply, moving your tongue slowly against his in a sensual dance and tracing your hands along his broad chest as you lean further into him.
When you break the kiss abruptly and step back out of his embrace, he blinks in bewilderment before his face contorts into rage as he registers that he’s staring into the barrel of his own gun.
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Taglist (Taglist is open):
@littleone2001 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe
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A/N: My husband gave me so much shit for this while I was writing it: tHiS iSnT cAnOn, BuCkY wOuLdNt Do ThAt, iT dOeSnT mAkE sEnSe
Look, I know. It’s a fanfic, it’s AU, it’s not canon.
Anyway, now I’m really anxious about posting this, worried that it won’t meet your expectations. So I hope you enjoy so I can tell my husband to suck it. 😈
💋Sj
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Good Luck, Babe! (8)- You'd Have To Stop The World
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Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+
Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan
Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.
What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?
Chapter 8- 8.6k Words
Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 7
A/N: Hey… So it’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry! Life has been super hectic these last few months and my mental health has been all over the place (which I have finally got a therapist to help me with!) So between two jobs, being in full time education and being depressed, it’s been pretty hard to consistently write or stay motivated but I’m sorta back? Only very briefly as it’s the holidays and my exams once again start again at the end of January and don’t finish pretty much till June. My plan for this fic is that this is the official final chapter of the story but I’m planning a sort of epilogue/extra chapter that I’ll add more info about in the end notes. Once again, I’m so sorry for leaving you all on a cliff-hanger (that was pretty evil of me)
But hopefully this makes it up to you <3 I love you all!
An empty feeling consumed your chest with every heavy step you took to the avenue your house was on, your hand gripping the dog lead harder than necessary as your eyes inevitably spotted the familiar red car that had pulled up into the drive next to yours, a gnawing feeling picking away at your mind. It had been just over a couple agonising weeks since the…incident with Wanda, a little while since you felt your heart crack once more, crumbling into hundreds of pieces that you felt would never be able to be put back together again, the constant replaying of the event in your mind further ensuring you wouldn’t heal from the memory. The agony that expressed itself in her choked sobs and broken, tearful gaze haunted you, it wedged an unfathomable ache in your soul that seemed unescapable, everything seeming to remind you of the woman you so desperately needed to remove from your thoughts.
You sighed in an irritated manner as you sensed where your thoughts were heading as you approached yours, and consequently, Wanda’s house, your head shaking subtly to try and rid you of the sight of her green gazing into yours, every swirl of her enticing green losing that glimmer of happiness you adored so much as you murmured the words ‘I can’t’. It was draining, constantly being reminded of how your love was never meant to be, how things would never end up like the stories you’d dream of, willing the characters who were clearly destined to be together to push past that final barrier that was blocking their happiness, you just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop.
Before you could drift further down that detrimental path, the sound of two energetic boys calling your name gripped your attention, a smile genuinely gracing your lips at their emphatic tones, their contagious smiles and laughter meeting your ears as you passed the bottom of their drive. You avoided looking further up the path as they approached you, not wanting to feel another wave of conflict course through you, your gaze staying focussed on the way Billy instantly ran towards Lucky, deciding he wanted to say hi to the bundle of fluff he loved so much.
“Y/n!” Tommy called excitedly, his tone hopeful as he continued, his little form standing in front of you, looking up at you with a cheerful and innocent smile, his enthusiasm to speak to you causing the corner of your lips to tug that little bit wider. “Can we please come over to play today?” He pleaded, eager to come over and show you how he had improved his kickups, now able to do fifteen in a row, as it had been a while since you allowed them over, not wanting to endure the unnecessary contact with Wanda.
At his hopeful and bright tone, you felt your heart melt at his and his brother’s actions, Billy fussing over Lucky who sat by him, the dog growing extremely fond of the brown haired boy as he enjoyed his company when they’d come over. It was natural for the two of them to occupy each other, Billy’s hand running through golden fur as he would read a comic whilst Tommy and yourself caused chaos, a small tug pulling on the strings of your heart as you didn’t want to deny the twins of the fun they had in your garden, but a harsher, more prominent tug reminded you of their mother, feeling her intense green gaze at you.
To say things were tense between you would be an understatement, Wanda’s entire being longing for you, to talk to you and try and clear things up, express the emotions she had spent years burying as she couldn’t physically hold it in any longer, but it was clear you didn’t want to even try, deciding the only way you were going to be able to move on was by leaving the other woman behind. You needed to move on, to forget the way she sparked joy into your life and in doing so, you reluctantly ignored her, deciding that it would somehow be easier for you to simply avoid her than face her and your thoughts once more.
Without even looking up, you could tell she had that pleading glint in her eyes, hoping you’d spare her even a mere glance as you crouched to the boy’s level, letting your hand ruffle Tommy’s hair in that teasing and playful manner that always made him giggle, an apologetic smile gracing your features.
“I’m sorry but I’ve got more boring adult stuff to do tonight,” you murmur softly, your face signalling your sorrow for disappointing them as you witness the excitement slowly crumble away from the twins, Tommy’s shoulders slumping a little.
“But you had that last week,” he argued, your gaze drifting to Billy who was smiling down at Lucky, the dog tilting its head back to stare up at the boy with his tongue sticking out, the golden retriever’s usual goofy manner making him laugh.
“I know, I’m sorry,” your tone comforting as you fix his hair briefly after messing it up. “Blame my boss for giving me homework,” you tease, the boy’s eyes almost widening in fear at the idea of still being given homework in adulthood, amusing you briefly before you continue, wanting to cheer them both up a little. “I promise you can come over soon, I miss beating you at football,” you playfully murmur, pushing his shoulder teasingly as a glint of determination appears in Tommy’s eyes, a small laugh escaping Billy as he knew you always somehow lost the football matches, potentially due to letting the smaller boys win but not telling them that. “Now go on to your parents, I’ve got to go and be an adult now,” you joked, as you stood back up, making a show of getting up, pretending as though you were that old it hurt your knees and back, further amusing them and bringing smiles back onto their faces.
“Bye Lucky,” Billy said with more enthusiasm before muttering a short goodbye to you, making you shake your head playfully as it was clear how much more he loved the dog than you, something you could understand as Lucky was such a good companion.
Your eyes followed the way Tommy ran after his brother after saying bye to you, something you regretted almost instantly as you saw Wanda greet them, her hand cradling each of their heads in a motherly manner before letting them run off inside, her head turning to look at you, as though she felt your eyes on her.
The brief eye contact made you freeze momentarily, conflicted at how to feel as the world around you seemed to fade away, the only things you were able to focus on being the way your heart started to pound in your chest and her intense green seeming to grip your attention. Staring into her gaze that held a glint of pain but also hope made you wonder whether Wanda felt this immense guilt you did when she avoided you when you first came back, your heart feeling as though it was being split into two. Despite everything, you wanted to comfort her, no matter what could happen between you both you always longed to protect and care for her and it always hurt, especially as you knew you were the reason she was hurting now, the situation between you two forever resembling two stars that never wanted to align. On the other hand, you knew you didn’t have it in you to soothe her pain, deciding to try and savour the last remnants of your heart, finding it would somehow be easier to push her away than deal with the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overpower you.
“Y/n please can we-” Wanda tried, desperation clearly lacing her tone as she took a pleading step forwards, wanting to, needing to talk to you, to try and clear the air and help navigate the feelings that were slowly suffocating her, trapping her in a place of despair.
Before she could finish her sentence, you sighed, shoulders slumping visibly for her to see, her brows drawing together as a pained expression took over her face as you stayed silent, merely offering her one last apologetic and equally broken look before turning away, walking towards your house and leaving her alone once more, a prominent ache forming in her chest.
“Please,” she whispered more to herself as you hesitated by your door, lowering your head whilst you paused before twisting your key in the lock, shutting yourself away from the other woman as her boys called for her, a despondent feeling consuming her whilst she had to force a smile to her lips, trying to put the mask back on for her family.
***
The sound of distant chatter met Wanda’s ears as she manoeuvred around the kitchen, starting to prepare dinner for everyone whilst her mind wandered elsewhere, inevitably drifting to thoughts involving you.
It was maddening to the other woman, the way you managed to consume her thoughts so regularly, how it seemed the world would have to stop for the longing in her heart for you to diminish, every fibre in her being longing for you, your presence, your laughter, simply you. You were the only thing that made her feel as though she was alive, that there was a purpose as to why her heart was beating in her chest, fluttering and melting at your actions. She hated how so many years had to pass for her to realise that she should never have tried to deny her feelings for you, to stop the love that wanted to bloom in her chest as she would gaze at you in your truck, a genuine look of happiness etched onto her features as she got lost in the moment, unbothered by the rest of the world and what she thought she had to be. She just wanted to be herself and in your presence was the only place she ever felt like she was safe enough. Even when you sat with her on your sofa that devastating night she felt safe, she felt more passion and affection in those sparing moments than over the years without you, an emptiness that brewed inside her craving your care to reminded her of how colourful life could be, like it was when you were both young, naïve and free adults with only one thought in your minds, each other.
It was apparent things would never change as you still consumed each other's thoughts, the love being replaced by haunting memories however, Wanda’s lips trembling slightly as she tried to get a grip on the emotions threatening to drown her, to force her into a spiral she didn’t want to experience. The years of pretending, lying to and berating herself fuelled her pain as she desperately tried to not let those thoughts control her once again, unable to survive in that mindset any longer, just wanting to accept that she was still normal, even if her heart wanted someone different, someone that she was told was wrong and corrupt. She wasn’t a freak, she wasn’t, she was just a victim of love was what Wanda repeated in her head, only reminding her of more confusing thoughts swarming around her head.
She loved you, she could finally say it to herself, but it was clear it wouldn’t matter as you avoided her, reluctant to cause any more pain as your feelings seemed to pass by each other at the wrong time, never quite clicking. It caused a different kind of hollow emptiness to settle in her chest, her mind dragging her down a painful trail of thoughts as she replayed that night in her mind, clinging onto anything that could offer some sort of relief to the agonising pain digging into her heart.
Cruelly, her thoughts remember the feeling of your delicate touch burning into her skin as you cupped her cheek, offering some sort of comfort to her after rejection and heartache flooded through her, gripping her heart in a manner that stripped her breath away, scared at the overwhelming feeling of pain. She could almost feel the lump that had formed in her throat, the way her lips trembled, tears spilling from her eyes as she sank into your body, desperately trying to relish in your comfort but succumbing to the agony that ripped through her chest, her soul.
The memory made her want to break down into tears once again, to let the avalanche of anxiety crash through her, knocking her over every time she managed to try and get back up but a small glimmer of hope floated through her mind, offering her a life line to cling onto.
She vividly remembers the way both of you leaned in, that intoxicating look in your eyes as you let your gaze drift to her lips, a longing look evident in them which only made it even more confusing for Wanda. She could see it in you, she was sure of it, you still loved her even after anything, it was something that tormented you forever as you said, confessing to her that you ‘had always been’ in love with her. You wanted it to work, even now. Why couldn’t things just work out? She was ready to tell you everything, to accept who she was but it wouldn’t matter, even if it was clear both of you felt the same way, your souls drawn together, it never seemed right.
Why couldn’t she just accept herself sooner? Why didn’t she realise loving you was worth any risk? Why was everything so confusing? She just wants to be able to think straight.
“Mom?” Tommy called suddenly, snapping Wanda out of her thoughts as she lifted her hand to wipe the stray tear that had spilt down her cheek, using all her courage to force a smile onto her face for the boys to see as they trudged into the kitchen, bored expressions on their faces. “Can you come and play with us please? Dad said he had a work call to take again,” he grumbles as both Billy and Tommy slump onto the stools by the kitchen island, their heads in their hands as they stare at the back of their mother, oblivious to the conflict swarming around her head.
At his words, anger seeped into Wanda’s mind as she let out a sigh, not wanting even more emotions to rage in her head at her husband's incompetence and inability to actually be a father for once, more memories from that night and the past few days filling her mind. After that argument that left her crying outside, Wanda had finally reached her tipping point, her heart unable to take anymore misery from the man, to waste any more years of her life pretending that she loved him, that she even cared for him. There was nothing left to savour between them and the last few days had only cemented the idea in her head to leave, to try and find someone else that would love her or show her some sort of affection, someone like you- No, not you, you were making that clear.
“I’m sorry but I’m a little busy Dorogoy, I’m trying to make Paprikash for dinner,” Wanda softly replies, making sure neither of the boys could sense the irritation that had brewed in her, their faces brightening at the mention of one of their favourite dishes though. Turning around to face them, she saw the disappointment briefly in their eyes from the usual dismissal from Vision, her heart clenching a little as they desperately wanted to play with someone, some joy filling them at the idea of food though, an idea entering Wanda’s mind. “Do you two want to help me make it?” She asked them, a gentle and motherly smile gracing her lips as they nodded eagerly, excited to try something new as they jumped off the seats to stand by her side, love blooming in her chest. Despite her negative feelings towards their father, the one thing she’d forever be grateful to him about was the two boys they brought into the world, her hands going to Billy’s shoulders as she instructed him on what to do, Tommy waiting to be told his job, both of them bickering on who was sous chef number one and who was sous chef number two.
Their playful chatter quickly filled the room, drowning Wanda’s incessant thoughts out of her mind as she supervised and made most of the dinner, letting the boys do simple tasks such as washing the vegetables and eventually trusting them to chop them, keeping her eyes on Tommy specifically though as he easily got distracted, the older woman not wanting him to accidentally hurt himself. It was almost as though all the emotions that were weighing her down were about to be forgotten, her boy’s making things more bearable, reminding her to enjoy the moment with them whilst a genuine smile stretched across her lips as the twins glanced up at her with a sheepish look, having knocked something off the countertop. Flour sprinkled across the floor at their mistake, simply earning a raised eyebrow from Wanda, their mother not even needing words to tell the twins it was their responsibility to clean the mess up when the sound of Vision’s laughter started echoing through to the kitchen, bringing a frown to Wanda’s face as well as the twins, the two of them looking up at her expectantly.
“Keep your eyes on the timer for me please,” she murmurs to the boys who had started to grab something to clean the floor with, their faces pulling into a brief confused look, “Shout me when there’s two minutes left, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
Once the two of them nodded, she made her way into the living room to find their father, a sudden blinding rage consuming at the sight of him laid back in the armchair chatting on his phone, his smile wide as he chuckled to the person on the other end of the call, seemingly unaware of how selfish his actions were.
“God Tony, you should have seen the way Banner’s face dropped when I told him he inputted the numbers wrong,” Vision huffed out, amused at what had happened at work, his blue eyes flickering over at the movement in the corner of his eyes, drifting up Wanda’s body before meeting her green and the unimpressed and irritated look in them, a sigh escaping him which only amplified the annoyance building in her. “I’ll call you back Tony,” he muttered, having enough decency to end his conversation after meeting the look in his wife’s eyes.
“How was your work call?” Wanda coldly asked, her arms crossing over her chest as her head tilted slightly, looking down on the man who simply moved his hand to his temple, contemplating his answers as he let out a huff.
“Wanda, I’ve had a long week let’s not-” He tries, as he always does, but Wanda refuses to accept his blatant excuses, cutting him off.
“You have a ‘long week’ every week,” she dismisses, unbothered if she came across as careless or inconsiderate as she had finally had enough of his bullshit, needing to call him out and let it sit with him. “The boys were so excited to actually spend some time with you earlier, to play with their father but let me guess, talking to Tony and others was more important to you?” She states rather bluntly, his fingers moving to the bridge of his nose as he reluctantly listens to her. “Do you have any idea how much it upsets them?” Wanda asks, this time with a softer tone, trying to express the sadness it causes in their children at his constant false promises.
“Does it upset them? Or are they just upset that they haven’t gone over to Y/n’s house instead?” He questions, taking Wanda aback at the mention of you, all the thoughts from earlier flooding through her mind along with a new trail of thoughts at the annoyance in his tone. “Why can’t they just go over to her house? It’s better for everyone, they can have fun with her and I can have some quiet for once,” he mutters, earning a scoff from Wanda, her head shaking as she bites on her tongue, not wanting to start a screaming match with him tonight.
How did it ever come to this?
Before she can say a snarky remark or a bitter comment, they both hear Billy come into the living room to find Wanda, a confused and worried look appearing in his eyes making Wanda’s heart clench, her body instantly moving to comfort the boy, giving him a reassuring look before ushering him back into the kitchen, turning back to face her husband one last time, letting her thoughts clear before saying one last thing to him.
“Don’t be surprised at what happens next,” is all she says, defeated as she stares at him, trying to remember how part of her did love him at one point, only briefly as her heart only ever truly belonged to you before she turns away from him, making her way towards where her boys were, fingers finding her phone in her pocket, needing to search through her contacts for an old friend, ready to make her decision final.
It was over between them.
***
Grabbing the essentials for Lucky, you tossed the bag full of the necessities into the back of your truck, chuckling under your breath at the sight of the bundle of fluff sitting next to your feet, eager to come with you on your small journey as his tail wagged, tongue comically hanging out of his mouth.
The sun made his golden fur appear all the more angelic and adorable as you whistled for him to jump into the front seat of the vehicle, the window rolled down all the way as you quickly ran back up to check the front door was securely locked, ready to drive over to the lake to clear your mind from the thoughts that had been gnawing away at you over the last few days specifically.
You were just about to climb into the driver’s seat when you heard your name called by a familiar yet unfamiliar voice, a baffled look appearing on your face as you turned around to face the female voice, recognition appearing on your face along with confusion.
“Jen?” You eventually managed out as you stood by your car in a puzzled manner, a sense of happiness filling you at seeing an old friend from school, remembering all the crazy and entertaining science lessons the two of you shared next to each other, briefly remembering the way you nearly set part of the science lab on fire accidentally. It was still her fault in your opinion, but you weren't going to bring that up now after so many years.
“Y/n? Oh my god it really is you,” Jennifer Walter chuckled out as she approached you, walking over from Wanda’s house which you immediately noticed, not mentioning it though as you decided it wasn’t your business, despite how much it intrigued you.
“Yeah, wow it’s been a long time,” you sigh out, a little unsure of what to say as it was so surprising to see her, “What are you doing here? Wait, no, sorry, how are you first?” Your politeness earnt a smile in response as you leaned against your truck to talk to her casually, Lucky moving over to the driver’s seat and poking his head out near yours, further amusing you both.
“Good, I’ve just finished talking to Wanda about a…work thing,” she started, piquing your interest as you acted as though the words didn’t affect you that much, “So I’m currently back on business.” You nodded along to her words, listening attentively, “I need to go and check in to the hotel now though so is there any chance we could meet up another time and catch up?” Her tone was a little flustered as she looked at her watch, realising the time making you chuckle as she always seemed to be so busy, a look of concentration etched onto her face as she worked out her timings for her plans, running a little behind.
“Yeah, that’d be lovely, you still have my number right? Just message me and we’ll sort something out,” you reply, watching as she smiles gratefully at you, taking a step back as she needed to be leaving, having a work call to take at her hotel.
“Perfect! It was really nice to see you again,” She rushes out before ushering a quick goodbye at the sight of her taxi pulling up, your hand raising to wave her goodbye as you turn to get into your truck, now ready to leave to venture to the lake. Before you left though, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander over to the Maximoff house, trying to wrack your brain as to what career Jennifer would likely have gone into and figure out what they were doing, a strange, undecipherable feeling wrapping around your heart tightly. Shaking your head slightly, you tried to rid the thoughts from your mind, deciding you needed to stop thinking about her to move on, your mind focussing on reversing out of the drive and the adorable look on Lucky’s face.
***
The gentle sound of paws on the wooden surface of the dock caught your attention as you stared ahead at the vast stretch of water, the way the soft blue from the sky reflected delicately in each ripple of the lake, the gentle hues of green from surrounding bushes also adding to the picturesque setting you relaxed in, Lucky joining your side. Water dripped from his darkened fur, the golden tufts on his chin soaking wet as he held the tennis ball in his mouth next to you, tail wagging with enthusiasm as he impatiently waited for you to throw it again, his calm but also joyful demeanour always comforting to you.
With a smile on your face, you pushed yourself up onto your feet to throw the ball properly for the dog, taking the soaking ball and using all your strength to toss it as far into the lake as you could, watching as he leapt off the dock and splashed into the water, paddling over to chase the desired item.
Flopping back down onto the wood, you let your eyes flutter shut, trying to listen to the peaceful atmosphere and the world of nature around you, birds occasionally chirping, the splashing from Lucky, and the wind gently rustling the bushes around you to distract your thoughts but it was inevitable that enticing green would consume your mind.
Everything simply hurt. You felt broken once again, your heart felt as though it was bleeding anguish into your veins with everything you did, every choice you made as it never seemed to be the right one, it always ended up in pain and suffering that somehow seemed to have layers, finding new ways to torment you.
There was the initial pain from that night which plagued your mind, an incomprehensible amount of guilt flooding through you for destroying you both in ways you couldn’t describe, for being scared. You tried to justify your reasons, to convince yourself that you were protecting yourself for once, for trying to do something that would help you rather than others as you never seemed to care enough about yourself, a flaw that always came back to terrorise you. You were tired of always being the fool, the one who always ended up being broken or knocked down, so you tried to spare yourself the misery but it seemed that no matter what you would end up suffering, life forever playing a cruel joke on you.
You hated how pain also bloomed slowly, like a rose unfolding its petals, taking over your consciousness one thorn at a time as other agonising thoughts pestered you, making you question everything. You resented the guilt for hurting her, for supposedly being there to comfort her and making things worse, for avoiding her and leaving her to imagine the worst like you did when you returned. You loathed how yet, after everything, you still had hope for something, anything with her.
An annoyed sigh spilt from your lips as your hands moved to your eyes, anxiety trickling down your spine at your stupidity as your thoughts wandered down the wrong path, unable to stop yourself. That was your issue when it involved Wanda, no matter what you couldn’t stop your love for her, it was inescapable, you couldn’t get away from the memory of you both leaning in, her eyes conveying something different, something more. It was a look you had wanted to see every time she was with you, every time you spent intimately together in your truck, on this very dock, in the lake swimming with each other and pulling one another closer, it was all you ever wanted, to be looked at with love, and you threw it all away because your heart was too weak.
No, you didn’t throw anything away, there was nothing there. You had to believe this, believe that there was no chance of anything as you couldn’t carry on living like this, tortured by love for eternity. You were wrong, you had to be, you had to move on, that’s why you pulled back. It was the right thing to do, even if it hurt her, the two of you had to stop whatever this was between you, you had to let go.
Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you desperately tried to build the courage up once again to let her go, to spend the time restitching your heart together at the gaping wound that would be left there, but you struggled to do so, drained from all the conflicting and confusing thoughts that had gnawed away at your sanity already.
Why couldn’t it just stop?
Almost on cue to save you from your inner turmoil, Lucky reappeared at your side with the tennis ball, the item plopping to the wood and rolling towards you as the dog panted, almost smiling at you and oblivious to how much comfort he provided you with, your fingers threading through his wet fur. You were just about to murmur something to the dog playfully, a weak smile growing on your lips as your thoughts still pressed heavily on your mind, when a sudden bark left his lips, his head snapping over to the side, causing your eyes to follow his alert gaze.
Nerves instantly consumed your body at the sight of a familiar figure at the end of the path, Wanda’s face twisting into shock and confusion whilst her body halted, a tension immediately filling the air as you both held the gaze, unsure of what to do.
Wanda had only come here to clear her mind after speaking to Jennifer regarding her situation with Vision, usually coming up to the Lake to either remember the happy memories that filled her mind and warmed her heart of your time together or to simply lose herself in the tranquillity of nature, not wanting to think. She didn’t expect to see you or that conflicted look engraved on her face that pulled on the strings of her heart, her face softening as neither of you wanted to make the first move.
When it became too much, your eyes getting lost in the swirls of green you’d forever remember, you turned your head away rather abruptly to break the gaze, moving your hand to cover your face for a moment, desperately trying to gather yourself together.
What was she doing here? You couldn’t take it. You didn’t want to end up getting hurt again, to feel your heart break anymore. You wouldn’t survive. You needed to get out of there.
Pushing yourself to your feet a little unsteadily, your fingers twitched subconsciously by your side as you felt anxiety and panic clawing its way up your throat in a manner you hated, your mind filling with claustrophobic thoughts as you called for Lucky to follow you, wanting to escape. You felt vulnerable under her gaze like this, something you struggled with as this was why you constantly cared for others more than yourself, you couldn’t face your own feelings, you couldn’t face reality and truly let the sorrows of your life sink in, pulling you under.
At the distress on your face, Wanda wanted to comfort you, to pull you into her arms and let the warmth of your connection settle you both but she knew that wasn’t the right thing to do, her own heart splitting into two as she couldn’t decide what to do. This was her chance, her chance to tell you everything, to confess, but the look on your face implied that you couldn’t handle it, your body gradually getting closer to hers, to pass her by, to leave her alone again. It was in the brief eye contact that you made as you somehow managed to keep moving without breaking down that Wanda saw a glint of something in your eyes, dread consuming her at the broken expression on your face as you looked at her, conveying without words that this would be the last time you saw her. It flooded memories of the day you left her the first time, that same glimmer appearing in your eyes making Wanda react, her hand reaching out for yours, not quite letting you let go just yet.
“Y/n wait, please,” she pleaded, desperation dripping from her shaky tone, the feeling of her finger tips wrapping around your arm sending sparks through your body, almost making you gasp at the intensity of it. “Please can we talk?” She tries, but all you can do is stare at where she holds you, another memory flooding your mind.
“Wanda wait,” you rush out as the other woman walks towards the end of the dock, ready to get into your truck for you to take her home, the stars shining bright above you both, the moon reflecting off the lake. The two of you had spent all day together, getting lost in the moment, unable to stop laughing and feel that gentle warmth envelope your chest in that tender manner every time you locked eyes, a nervousness building in you for the whole day as you planned to confess everything to her. 
Your hand reached out to hers, gently grasping her wrist, halting her and encouraging her to turn around to face you, her green filled with confusion but also curiosity, her smile casual and affectionate as you search for words.
“I…You make me feel…um,” you stammer out, unsure of how to phrase it as the countless scenarios that played in your head started to merge together, causing you to feel lost as you tried to navigate your heart, gazing into her eyes and letting her soothe you, taking a deep breath. Her brows furrow at your words, the gentle glow of the moon illuminating her features, giving her this angelic and radiant look as you lost yourself in her beauty, awestruck by her and unable to form any words. Instead of stumbling over your words again, you try a different approach, slowly moving your hand up to her face to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, a blush forming on her cheeks as she hesitates, your movements slowing as you gauge her reaction.
When she doesn’t pull away or give you any indication to stop, you step closer to her, giving her all the time she needed to tell you to stop, to not cross that line but she doesn’t, letting you lean in closer to her till your lips ghost one another, needing that last little bit of encouragement to kiss her for the first time.
If only you had known that kiss meant something different to her.
“I can’t,” is all you can croak out, voice raw with emotion and it shocked Wanda to see you so vulnerable, usually able to be the more composed one out of the two of you, signalling to her how heartbroken you truly were, her green expressing the guilt and regret filling her for being part of your pain. “It’s just going to hurt me, I-I can’t take it anymore,” you continue, regrettably meeting her gaze and conveying all of your emotions in a single look, almost stealing Wanda’s breath away at the intensity of it.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispers, voice delicate but wavering at the emotions flooding through her, her mouth opening and closing as she hesitates, trying to read your expression as you simply gaze at her. “I don’t,” she reiterates, trying to reassure you as you pull your hand away from her, teetering on the edge of making the decision to walk away, to leave her in the past for good. “I just…” she starts, trailing off as she lets her gaze flicker down to how your feet shuffle slightly, seeming to want to move, prompting her to confess, needing to tell you at least once, even if it was too late. “I love you.”
The world around you faded away instantly at her words, leaving you to focus solely on her, the way hope but also desperation filled her features, an anxious look glimmering in them as she waited to you react but you couldn’t, you just froze to the spot, unable to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that crashed through you, clouding your judgement.
You were supposed to be walking away from her, letting her go and moving on. You were supposed to be accepting that it was over, not letting yourself cling onto false hope, to let yourself believe again. It hadn’t ended well before, who’s to say it would work this time? Yet you still couldn’t will yourself to leave, unable to resist her as you had craved to hear those words spill from her lips for most of your life, the words replaying in your mind like a drug.
“I love you, I always have,” Wanda continues, sensing your confliction as you still, eyes flickering away from her momentarily before back to her green, looking for the honesty and sincerity lacing each delicate swirl you fell for in the first place, “I’m sorry it took me so long to say. I…I was just scared to say it, to admit it to myself that I was but I can’t keep pretending that you don’t mean everything to me. It’s always been you, I’m sorry for never seeing that.”
At her confession, you think your heart has actually physically split into two, a broken sigh escaping you as the overwhelming feelings crash down on you like a tidal wave, sweeping you under and submerging you into despair and desperation, confused about everything that was happening inside your chest and head.
Love and happiness consumed part of you, wrapping tenderly around your heart that pounded in your chest, trying to soothe you as the words gradually settled in your mind, sinking in and amplifying the hope that was building within you at every second that passed by. Your eyes held her nervous gaze, meeting the honesty, care and affection that overflowed from her green, desperately trying to convey every single ounce of love she had for you, a love that defies descriptions at how intense it was. She loved you, it was something you had waited over a decade to hear, to ring around in your head as relief tried to bloom through you, to console you and help a smile stretch across your lips but a shadow of fear crept over your mind, clouding your judgement momentarily.
Doubts picked away at every single thought you had, over analysing her words as fear ran down your spine uncomfortably, briefly appearing in your eyes making the other woman’s brows furrow, confused as to how hope swiftly diminished in your gaze, turning to something more haunting. How did you know she was telling the truth? That she wouldn’t run away as soon as those thoughts came back to terrorise her, to destroy her. You didn’t want to be something disposable again, you wanted to be the person she came home to, the person who made her feel as though the world would fade away whilst you were together, to make happiness flood through with merely a glance, you wanted to be her lover.
At your silence, dread starts to amplify the uneasy feeling in Wanda as she pressingly tries to figure out your thoughts, to untangle the onslaught of emotions flashing across your features.
“Please say something,” she begs, the fear in her voice evident as she desperately hopes that you would say something, anything to her. She didn’t care if you screamed at her, broke her heart again and confirmed that she was too late, she just wanted something, the lack of response somehow worse than anything else.
“How…How do I know you aren’t going to change your mind?” Eventually, the words leave your lips, tone hesitant and broken as you want her to answer you honestly, needing her response to help you make your final decision of whether you were going to leave. You were giving her one last chance, unable to deny her as always.
“I won’t,” she replies without hesitation, getting her determination and point across as she reaches her hand out for yours subconsciously, wanting to assure you she meant everything she was saying, the words coming from the deepest parts of her. “I’m never going to make that mistake again,” she continues, searching your gaze as you listen attentively. “I’m.. I’m divorcing Vision,” she sighs out, your eyes widening momentarily, the words filling you with a sudden hope, part of you actually believing that this could be the moment where you finally click, your feelings not clashing but finally becoming in tune with one another. “I never wanted to be with him, I just thought it’s what I had to do, what everyone wanted from me,” she whispers out, finally getting it off her chest, causing your features to soften as you knew how far her internalised homophobia festered, so hearing her actually say the words ignited something in you, the fear dissipating from your veins. She’d finally admitted it.
“Do you remember Jennifer Walter?” She asks, wanting to give you proof that her decision was made, that she wasn’t going to turn her back on you anymore. At her words, your brows instantly furrow, confused as to why she had named your old friend, letting her continue as you manage to nod in response, “She’s a lawyer now, she’s helping me get the divorce started,” the words making the earlier meeting with Jennifer make sense, realisation etched onto your features as green continue to gaze at you, one of her hands sliding into yours, the touch electric as both of you seem to instantly relax a little at the contact, warmth spreading through your hands.
“That’s why she was at your house,” you murmur out to simply voice your thoughts, the pads of your fingers brushing one another tenderly, the feeling natural despite how long it had been, your gaze flickering down to the sight, savouring the peace it brought you before lifting your gaze back up to see her nod her head. The confirmation seems to trigger something in you, the fact she was actually changing, actively trying to become the person she had always wanted to be, brewed something deep inside you, easing your nerves slightly which was mirrored in the way you searched her green. The fact you don’t reject her touches gives Wanda hope along with the glint in your eyes, the nerves seeming to settle as an intimate atmosphere wraps around the two of you like an embrace, twelve years of longing expressed in simple looks.
“I know I don’t deserve it but please give me one last chance,” she pleads, your fingers interlocking, mirroring how your souls seemed to entwine, a small sigh leaving you after, despite all the thoughts begging you to leave, you knew you were still going to follow your heart. It always belonged to her. “I want to try properly this time, I want to make this work. I want us to work,” she murmurs and you can feel yourself being freed from most of your insecurities and the fear holding you back, a soft smile gradually stretching across your lips as relief consumes you entirely.
“Promise me you wont hurt me again,” you whisper softly, lifting your free hand to cup her cheek, her eyes glossing over in consolation as she melts into your touch, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.
“I promise, I never wanted to hurt you, I just… It took me too long to realise you were all I ever wanted, the only person I wanted to love,” Wanda confesses, cherishing the way your hand feels against her skin, the sheer amount of comfort it provided to you both, the warmth that flooded through you both at the electric touch, the fact that such a simple action could arise such emotions stirring something in her. This was all she ever wanted, to feel loved, to feel loved by you again. “I want to make up for everything, to love you the way I've always dreamed of loving you. Please tell me I’m not too late.”
“You certainly took your time,” you whispered in a slight tease, attempting to ease the moment as it was emotionally intense, a small chuckle escaping her, making you remember how much you had missed that noise as it blessed your ears, your finger delicately brushing over her red tinted cheek, admiring the woman. “My heart has always been yours Wanda, I’ve never stopped loving you,” you confess in an intimate murmur, a sudden happiness enveloping you as you smile at her, realising that finally you had both confessed your feelings, the yearning you had both endured building up for this exact moment, clouding your mind with the thought of her.
Your eyes flickered down to her lips, her eyes mimicking the action and gazing longingly at yours, the feeling of your fingers caressing her skin intoxicating, the way your gaze flicker up to have one last intimate gaze addictive, you couldn’t get enough of each other. Without even realising it, the two of you leaned in closer, your head tilting marginally as your lips ghost hers, ready to slot over them and let years of passion consume you both, memories of the many kisses you had shared filtering through your mind as you try to savour the moment.
Inevitably, your lips met into a tender, loving and passionate kiss, the action saying more than a thousand words but most importantly the three that mattered- I love you. It was breath taking, the intimacy of the kiss as your lips pressed against once another, igniting sparks within each other as the melody of your love played a song of tenderness and affection in your hearts, letting peace wash over you both. It was a kiss that felt like more than simply mending your broken bond, an embrace that healed and reconciled the two of you, it was the start of something new, something to base a new relationship off and cherish as you looked to the future, wanting to tackle it together.
“I love you,” Wanda whispered against your lips at the two of you parted, foreheads leaning against each other as you felt her gentle breaths tickle your face, your eyes fluttered shut as you took in everything you could about the moment, her hand in yours, body pressed against you, lips brushing yours as she uttered the words that filled your mind.
“Say it again,” you sigh out, wanting to and needing to hear her say it again, and again, and again as you were addicted to the sound of those words spilling from her lips, almost as much as you were intoxicated by the way her lips perfectly met yours.
“I. Love. You,” she punctuated every word with a kiss that somehow was filled with more care, more affection as she continued to pour everything she felt towards you into the intimate moment, drowning you both in happiness as your souls intertwined, your bodied forever pulled to one another. “It’s always been you, only you,” Wanda murmurs as you both pull back once more, your eyes gently fluttering open to meet her enticing gaze, the shades of green almost making you fall for her all over again.
Smiles tugged at both of your lips as you lost yourselves in each other, your features softening before you press a kiss to her forehead, letting everything finally sink in your mind whilst you embraced like lovers.
You knew that your love wasn’t easy, it hadn't been so far and there were bound to be times when it was rough again, but it was a battle you were ready to fight for, even if it was against the world. Distance, time and the fears you both shared had already halted your story together but you fought bravely, tirelessly for it because you knew that your love was worth every struggle.
It always would be.
She always would be.
I want to apologise once more for the delay in getting this chapter out but I hope it was worth it as they finally got their happy ending <3 
I hope you have enjoyed their story as much as I have and I really hope this ending was alright for everyone as I really struggled with it (both planning and writing)
I want to thank you all for your support on this fic and my others as I can’t express how much you all mean to me, especially this year as it has personally been so difficult for me. I will forever be grateful to you all and I hope you know it!
This is sadly the end of the official story but my plan is to write an epilogue style final chapter which would involve smut (as I know that’s what most people want) but it’s up to you guys on which you’d rather it be!
1- A smut chapter of their first time after getting back together.
2- A smut chapter a few months after Wanda has finally divorced Vision and the Reader and Wanda both live together now (I’ll send the twins to Pietro’s don’t worry)
Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3
Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger
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totorolaughs · 7 months ago
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GENDER-BEND! MAKIMA HEAD-CANONS
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implied grooming, gn w amab reader in mind, creepy! makima, dead dove (?), reader gets called 'pup/puppy', no beta read , mentions of forced feminization, yandere makima (?) , slight obsessive/possessive makima (?), cliff hanger(?), male! makima, gender-bend makima, he/him from makima, no pronouns for reader!
male! makima who you saw when you were with your mom walking your dog at night, his yellow eyes with their red rings within them made you feel uneasy.. male! makima who has been keeping his eyes on you ever since you both locked eyes, something about you that made him want to keep you as a pet perhaps? male! makima, who finally meets you on your way back from school. you both bumped into each-other since you weren't paying attention as you were in your own little world, “apologizes” he spoke with a soft smile. ‘he's pretty..’  you think to yourself but quickly notice his eyes, it's the same man you saw when you young, “sorry..” you mumble as you look down at your feet and quickly walk away. male! makima who watches you through your bedroom window with his creepy eyes as you complain to your parents you can't sleep since you feel paranoid of someone watching you as you sleep. male! makima who watches you grow up as time goes on, and tries to find ways to get closer to you as time goes on. male! makima gets impatient, while you're out at school one day makima slaughters both of your parents and makes it look like a devil had slaughtered them. male! makima who's overjoyed when he hears the news that you’ll be joining and becoming a devil hunter. male! makima who slowly turns into a weird type of father figure for you since he always takes care of you after your long days of patrolling.
male! makima treats you better than anyone else in the division, and you're his favorite puppy. male! makima who gets you to trust him, and finally has you in his grasp to toy with your mind. male! makima who gets oddly touchy when you both are alone in his office, he’ll ask you to sit under his desk and pets you like a dog as he does paperwork saying it helps concentrate, makima who will place you on his lap and lap warm him like a puppy. male! makima, who becomes creepier and instead of doing paperwork goes out and sees you in action killing devils, down said it causes him to get hot and bothered seeing you covered in blood and gore! male! makima doesn't trust anyone else to keep eyes on you so he does it himself after sitting at his desk pumping his cock at the thought of you. male! makima hates whenever you try to avoid him thinking he wouldn't notice his pup trying to get away from his grasp. male! makima buys you cute dresses and makes you try them on whenever you misbehave. he'll force you to wear them to fight devils, he doesn't care if you feel embarrassed, it's what you deserve.
male! makima gets overhears you have been having a secret relationship with one of the members of the division, he isnt so happy to hear that, you're his puppy and if he has to keep you on a leash he will, but first he'll have to deal with a pest.
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strawberrywonz · 10 months ago
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Mean? I haven't even shown you mean.
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Genre : Smut !
Person mentioned : Park Sunghoon x F!reader !
Warnings : Man handling (at the end), ruined orgasm, name calling (bitch, whore, princess), spanking, fingering, implied sex, reader "accidentally" sits on heeseungs lap, lmk if i missed anything !
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Saturday night. You and Sunghoon had gone out to get drinks with you and his friends, it was fun. But oh how you wish Sunghoon would just take you home and fuck you already, so you had to do something. Sitting on Heeseungs lap by accident or laughing a little too hard at Jakes jokes. He gave you that little look when he gets mad, telling no not telling you demanding you to stop. But you didn't listen and kept meddling about and doing what ever you liked.
He was pissed. Fucking pissed, like really. On the drive back home he hadn't said a word except for a little cussing cause there was traffic and people didn't know how to drive on the park way (real life events 😭). When he parked the car he got out, not bothering to open up the door for you. He walked up the steps to your house unlocking the door, walking inside and taking his shoes off. You didn't say a word also getting in the house taking your shoes off. "I want you upstairs. Now. Clothes off, and bent over the fucking bed." You look at him, confused. "Am I speaking french? Get the fuck up there and do what I said." He chuckled. You go upstairs, scared? Excited? Nervous? You couldn't tell what you were, al you knew was you were fucking soaked from the way he spoke to you.
He walks up the steps, his top unbuttoned. "Look at you, so pretty. What a shame you don't fucking listen." He spanks your ass, not once but three times. You let out a whimper, he just laughs. "What? Want hoonie to give you what you want?" You nod your head, he just shakes his head. "Please hoonie.. im sorry.." you let out, almost sobbing. He looks at you mockingly, "Shut up, I didn't ask you to speak bitch. Being a fucking whore in front of my friends, sitting on heeseungs lap? Fucking spilling out your tits to jake? Thought I wouldn't notice huh? It's like you're asking to get punished." You just put your head into the pillow, he sinks his fingers into your cunt. "Fucking your dripping.." You let out a moan, pushing your hips back against him. "Don't move princess, it'll be worse for you."
"You're being so mean hoonie.." you whimper out, his fingers working inside you. his fingers pushing against your spongy walls, leaving you moaning and whimpering. "Mean? I haven't even shown you mean." Thats when you knew you fucked up, big time. His fingers were still thrusting inside you, hitting that spot that made you whimper like crazy. It felt so good it had you mumbling incoherent phrases and words, had your legs trembling. You were just about to cum but Sunghoon knew you too well. He pulled out his fingers and roughly turned you onto your back, looking down at you.
"So fucking pretty, im gonna ruin you."
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Okay uhm !! Sorry for leaving u guys w a cliff hanger but if u want part 2 lmk cs ill be more than happy to make it !! so 😭 n pls leave some reqs cs i dont know what to write abt . ><
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lovelettersfromluna · 2 years ago
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˚ ༘⋆。˚❀ Blossom ❀˚。⋆ ༘˚
{Ellie Williams x Reader}
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Summary: Ellie broke up with you in high school right before she left for college. At the time, it left you devastated….five years later, she’s back. And she’s back for you.
an: hi my angels! I KNOW I KNOW I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME I’m sorry this took so long. This isn’t exactly what any of you asked for, but it’s an idea Ive had for a while. Once I started it I seriously could not stop until I was finished. Yes this is a cliff hanger, and yes I’m planning a part 2. I have a bunch other things coming up as well! I hope you’re all doing well, and I thank you so so much for the patience you all have with me. I really hope you guys like this one, enjoy my loves 🖤🖤
Warnings: 18+!! Smut!! Angst!! (Is it a fic of mine if there isn’t angst at this point), small town!Ellie, it’s summer time ofc hehe, fingering (r!receiving), nipple play (r!receiving), petnames, Ellie hurt reader in the past but is extremely desperate for her now, lots of kissing, let me know if I missed anything pleaseee. (Not proofread)
You can read part 2 here!
“But…can’t we just…can you just rethink this Ellie? You always said we would be-“ Ellie was quick to cut you off as she shoved the remainder of your things into a box, her eyes never once turning in your direction as you sat on her bed, eyes staring up at her as you practically begged her to just take a moment and think about this.
“I’ve already made up my mind. I don’t want to have to worry about you while I’m away, this is what’s best” her words are cold, and stern and it almost doesn’t even sound like her, like your girlfriend isn’t even living inside the person who is currently rummaging through her closet to look for the random things you’d left throughout the years.
And you aren’t even sure what to say. Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks as you silently cry, sitting on Ellie’s bed as you plead with her to just….fucking listen to you.
The soft sniffle you let out is what finally has her looking in your direction, and she sighs. You look so small, so defeated, and she knows she’s being rough with you right now. For some reason, she doesn’t seem to care.
She puts her hand on her hip, standing near her closet for a moment before she reaches down and grabs the box, setting it on her desk. She walks over to you, standing over you as you stare down at your hands, silently crying on her bed.
“Come on…it’s late and I need to start packing…” She mumbles out, you can’t help but look up at her in disbelief. You had never seen her be this cold towards you, she was always warm and welcoming. This new side of her made you feel sick.
You know there isn’t any use in sitting there and begging her, and you decided you’d save any pride that you had left, and stop yourself from further embarrassment. You stand up, roughly wiping away your tears as you make your way towards her door. When you turn around, opening your mouth to say one last thing to her, she shoves the box into your arms and slams the door in your face.
That was five years ago.
Sometimes if you think about it hard enough, you can still think about those feelings you felt that night. Eighteen years old, heartbroken, confused, sobbing into your pillow as you begged the invisible force that was the universe to explain to you why this happened to you, and what you could have done to change the unforgiving course that your relationship with Ellie took.
And it wasn’t to say that it was sudden, or that you didn’t suspect it, you did. Your break up with Ellie was something that was bound to happen, and you both knew that, it was just her demeanor that made it seemed as though she never cared for you that came as a surprise.
Ever since the final months of your senior year together, your relationship had been estranged. Ellie had been so distant, so focused on college, but so where you. You were both extremely involved with your academic life, with your writing career being so important to you, and Ellie wanting to desperately get out of the small town you both lived in, your lives had been set in stone from the moment you both got your acceptance letters from your colleges.
The thing is, they were nowhere near each other. And you knew that it would be hard to keep a relationship with Ellie. However, you expected things to go differently, to keep in touch with the girl that had grown to be your favorite person in the entire world from the moment she took you under her wing on the first day of ninth grade.
But that isn’t what happened at all. Ellie threw you away, shoving a box of your things into your arms and sending you home without even a simple goodbye before she was getting on a plane to go to Europe for college.
As time went on, you understood why she did what she did, you just wished she’d done it differently.
And maybe you never truly got over the girl that you had fallen in love with when you were so young. Regardless of if it was puppy love or not, it was love, and your youth would never be able to take away from that.
You never truly forgave Ellie either. You got over it, and you one day woke up and figured there was no use in dwelling on something that had already happened, and that you could not change, especially since you were in college as well. You quite literally had the life you dreamed of, and worked for since you were a little girl and you weren’t taking advantage of it because of a girl that broke your heart, and no longer cared about you.
Because you knew Ellie, and you knew that she would be living her life, doing all the things she wanted to do, traveling the world and enjoying herself without anything holding her back.
So that’s what you did, you lived your life. Because no matter how upset you were, no one had the right to rob you of that.
You enjoyed the rest of your time at college, making life long friends and memories, enjoying the life of a young person living in a big city, studying your most loved subjects, even finding a cute girl every once in a while to fill the void that was your love life.
But you did it all with the girl who broke your heart in mind, the wild fire that once burned inside of you and forced countless tears from your eyes succumbing to a few pieces of burnt wood, still glowing from the previous flames that engulfed them.
Calm, but still there.
After college, you took on a few jobs and internships that would benefit your writing career, getting you in touch with good people that would point you in the write direction. You were praised for being a young writer with such a knack for writing, and before you knew it, you had an agent and a publicist who were eager to get your work on the shelves.
The city was loud, and bustling. And while it was amazing for you to party until the sun came up, and to make out with strangers outside of a bar, it wasn’t the best for writing. It was too loud, and you found that your constant state of writers block came from the overwhelming sense of stimulation that came from the city and the people in it.
It’s how you found yourself coming back to your home town during the summer, purchasing a small house in a quiet neighborhood near your parents old house. It’s small, and quiet, and has the prettiest garden with the prettiest flowers. You feel the creativity flowing through your veins the minute you sit down on the couch near your window, the calm breeze blowing through your hair.
And regardless of the fact that it’s your first time home since you left for college, and the sleepy town you grew up in holds so much hurt and pain from your younger years, you’re writing, and you’re happy.
And there’s no harm in making new memories to replace the bad ones.
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It’s a normal day for you, the summer breeze is warm and inviting, and you find that these days are the best to take advantage of. The weather is nice, and warm enough that you’re able to lay out and write to your hearts content, but not hot to the point of feeling as though your brain is melting inside of your skull. You find yourself at the park near your house, laid out on a white sheet you brought from home. You chose a spot near the lake under a shady tree.
You were so confident in your newest work, finding yourself smiling like an idiot every time you felt you were typing too fast for your fingers to keep up with your thoughts. You liked it that way, getting so lost in your own little world, making it so easy to avoid the outside world that was around you.
So lost, that you didn’t even hear the low chuckle behind you.
You had to blink a few times, seemingly breaking yourself out of your trance. Your eyes had to adjust a bit to the warm glow of the afternoon instead of the bright morning sun that you remembered looking at when you first got to the park. Your eyes widened a bit when you checked the time, realizing how much time had past. You had spent the entire day writing.
“Writin’ again huh? You gettin’ close to the end?” Joel rasped out.
Joel had always loved you. From the moment Ellie brought you home, he was just as enamored with you as she was. He was used to his daughter bringing home friends all the time, always mixing up the old names with the new ones and opting to give them a polite greeting before she was dragging them up to her bedroom, Ellie always had a thing for picking up strays, he’d tell her.
But you, you were different. He saw the way Ellie’s eyes twinkled when she talked about you, the way her freckled cheeks would burn red every time he mentioned you, and whether or not Ellie wanted to invite you over for dinner. You made his daughter happy, and he loved you for that.
He wasn’t the happiest when he realized Ellie had ended things. Once the smiles that came with the mention of your name turned into aggravated huffs and eager attempts at trying to brush it off, he figured things didn’t end well.
That, and the fact that he spotted you leaving Ellie’s bedroom with a box filled with your things and tears streaming down your cheeks.
He told Ellie that night, that girls like you were hard to find. And that he hoped she at least had the decency to let you down easy, because that’s how he had raised her.
At least he hoped.
The hardest part about coming back home after so long, was that you’d feel lonely. Your parents had sold their house and decided to travel after you left, and while you were extremely happy for them, you couldn’t help but feel empty with a lack of parental guidance and warmth close by.
Joel made sure you were never without it.
When he saw the little house with the cute garden that you always talked about when you were younger had been sold, he figured you were coming back. He made sure to call you before you arrived, the man always keeping your number in his phone, regardless of the fact that his daughter had begged him time and time again to delete it.
Joel was at your door the week you moved in, pulling you into a big bear hug. The smell of his cologne and fresh cut grass almost had you in tears, because it made you remember just how much you missed home, how much you missed him…
How much you missed Ellie.
So, ever since you were back home, Joel never really went a day without seeing you. He’d take you into town to run some errands, you’d drop off some dinner to him once in a while, making sure he was eating and healthy. You’d even made it a tradition to have coffee once a week together.
Joel was lonely, you saw it in his eyes. He missed his daughter dearly and he didn’t seem to handle being an empty nester as well as your parents did. Ellie had done an amazing job at avoiding her home town as much as possible, never visiting for more than a weekend.
Joel needed a kid to look after, and you needed a parent to look after you.
You giggled softly as you closed your laptop and put it in your messenger bag. Joel was already close by, his calloused hand reaching out for yours and helping you onto your feet. You brushed your hand down your dress, getting any wrinkles out before you let out a sigh, shaking your head.
“Unfortunately not. This one’s gonna be a long one…it’ll be worth it though” you nod to yourself as you grab your sheet from the ground. Joel is already on the other side as he helps you fold it up, causing you to smile softly. “What has you out here today? Going into town?”
Joel nods in agreement, “always is kiddo. Always said you were gonna be a big author someday” he gives you a genuine smile, making his eyes crinkle until they were almost gone. He’s so proud of you, he always has been and it’s nearly enough to make your heart melt.
You smile softly as you adjust your bag on your shoulder after you put your sheet inside of it. You and Joel begin walking away from the lake and towards the side walk, and you can already see his pick up truck parked under a shady tree.
“Comin out of town actually, was in need of some groceries” He groans out, causing you to laugh softly. Joel hates grocery shopping, says he gets too distracted and never knows what he’s out of or doesn’t need.
But there’s something else there, his tone is different and you can’t help but feel like there’s something else on his mind. Something bothering him.
You bend your head down a bit, trying to get a better look at the older man’s face before you give him a small hum. “You okay Joel? Something on your mind?” You question softly. You assume he’s just missing his daughter, and you know he’d never come to you to vent about it since he knows how you feel about her.
He lets out a sigh, like he’d been holding it in from the moment he woke up, and it’s all you need to confirm that there is in fact something bothering him.
You’re both standing in front of his car at this point, the summer breeze getting cooler against your skin now that the sun has set. Joel turns towards you so that he’s facing you, and the look on his face has you worried.
He lets out another sigh, and your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion and concern as you stare up at him. “Listen kid..I uh…I can’t lie to you…wouldn’t sit right on my conscience and all…” he lets out, and you’re already scared of what he’ll say next.
“I didn’t…didn’t mean to say, really I didn’t I…it just slipped is all, when I was on the phone with her and..” he sighs softly, pausing for a moment before he starts again.
“Ellie’s coming home..” he dead pans.
And before you can even fully comprehend what he’s saying, you’re eighteen years old again, crying on your bed, begging for an answer, blaming yourself for not being enough. You can’t even fully understand that he basically just said she’s coming back because he mentioned that you’re back, because you suddenly feel like you can’t breath. Any and all progress you had made on yourself, and getting over what she did to you is set back. It’s like you didn’t make any at all to begin with, and your heart is breaking all over again.
Joel must sense that you aren’t okay, because he frowns as he waits for you to say something. He reaches out, pressing his hand against your shoulder. “Kiddo? You with me?” He asks softly, and his rough voice is the only thing that is bringing you back to earth.
You blink your eyes a few times, finally looking into his eyes rather than right through him. His expression breaks your heart, because you know he’s blaming himself for this, and he’s blaming himself for hurting you when that isn’t at all the case.
You give him a sad, small before you nod. “I’m with you Joel…” you mumble softly before you let out a sigh, paired with a half shrug.
“Things with me and Ellie…it happened, and it happened a long time ago and I can’t stop her from coming back, or you from seeing your daughter…I’m okay Joel. I promise” you nod, trying to assure the man that despite the fact that you quite literally just short circuited for a minute, that you are okay.
But he doesn’t buy it. His expression is still worried and concerned as he looks down at you. “C’mon kid…you can talk to me..just because she’s my-“ you giggle softly as you ball up your fist, punching his arm playfully to stop him before you shake your head.
“Im good Joel…it’s been long enough that…it doesn’t bother me anymore” you sigh out, trying to convince not only him but yourself.
You inhale deeply, the breeze forcing leaves to dance around both your feet before you nod towards the direction of your house. “M’gonna head home…enjoy your time with her, okay?” Your words are genuine, because you know how much he needs this, how much he needs her.
He opens his mouth to say something, to explain that although he’s looking forward to his daughter returning, he knows that it isn’t him that she’s returning for. He wants to explain that this visit has been entirely motivated by you.
But he doesn’t, he simply gives you a gentle smile as he nods. “You sure you don’t need a ride home kid?” He calls out as you’re already turning around, making your way down the familiar path that leads to your house.
You smile as you shake your head, turning around a bit as you call out to him. “The walk is good! You gotta get her room ready for her anyways. Night Joel!” You call out, cutting the conversation down completely.
Because you know you can’t do it anymore. You have to create a game plan for yourself to avoid Ellie for the next however many days she’ll be in town. You need to be alone, and in your own space so that you’re able to properly digest the news that you’d just received.
Your ex girlfriend was coming back home. The ex girlfriend that had ripped your heart out and shred it into a million tiny little pieces, that you hadn’t heard from for the last five years, who you were sure you’d go the rest of your life without seeing, was coming back to the small town that you were both from, where it all started.
You were so fucked.
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Joel never have you a specific date on when his daughter was coming home, but you figured she was back once Joel’s daily texts and visits had become more sparse.
His silence was your sign to make yourself a scarce as possible. You made sure to only go out for necessities late at night, right before the shops in town closed, or extremely early before anyone in their right mind would be out.
And other than that, you’d stay home. You utilized your backyard for any sunlight you needed to get, and you were practically glued to your favorite couch near the window for a light breeze when wanting to write.
Although you were coming down with a slight case of cabin fever, you were safe from any awkward interactions, and that was fine by you.
You had spent the day cleaning, needing a bit of a reset for the new week coming in. You opened up all the windows, letting in a light breeze and airing out your house as you played music and made your way around your home, washing your sheets and folding laundry. It was therapeutic to you in a way, being able to rest later in the day in a clean home.
And that’s what you were doing now, you were showered and changed into your favorite pair of pajamas, a pair of cotton shorts with little stars on them and a tank top. You were sitting on your wooden floor in your living room, your brows furrowed as you slowly dragged the nail polish brush over one of your toes, trying to find something to do to kill the time before you had to hop into bed.
The windows were still open, a soft breeze blowing in as you hummed a random melody to yourself, your chin pressed against your knee to stabilize yourself as you painted your toes. In that moment you were so content, your head so empty of any racing thoughts that you weren’t even concerned about Ellie, or that fact that she was currently in the same town as you. It didn’t matter to you anymore.
Until you heard a firm knock at your door.
You frowned softly as you looked up at the clock on your wall, and then out one of your windows. It was already far too late for visitors, and you weren’t expecting any anyways. You sighed softly as you blew cool air gently onto your drying toes before carefully getting up, and tip toeing over to your door.
You figured it was your next door neighbor, the old woman becoming somewhat of a friend to you since you had moved in. She often came over needing help to video chat her grand kids, or to drop off some extra pastries she’d made. It worried you a bit that she’d be coming over so late in the night, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you prepared yourself to warn the old woman about the dangers of walking around so late at night, even if it was right next door.
But it wasn’t your sweet next door neighbor. It was Ellie.
You audibly gasp, your eyes going wide as you stare up at her, because you realize in that moment just how long it’s been since you’ve seen her face, and not imagined it.
She’s much taller now, her face is no longer round and youthful, but instead sharper. Her hair is much shorter, the spiky ends laying flat against the nape of her neck. You figure she cut it herself because of that. She’s still sporting the same side part, her brown fringe laying across her forehead and nearly spilling out onto her pretty green eyes.
Her eyes, they’re the same but so much different. They’re still the same shade of emerald you used to love so much, but they seem to be missing something. A certain sparkle that had been there the last few times you saw there isn’t there anymore, and it makes you want to reach out and grab her.
Your hand is gripping your door so hard, you’re sure it was enough to pull the hinges off. You’re at a loss for words, because your ex girlfriend is standing in front of you, and she’s taller, and her features are sharper, and she’s exuding something that she didn’t before all while lacking something that she used to have and….
And you can’t fucking breath.
Just like her father, she can see what’s going on inside your head. She’s chewing at her lip anxiously, because she isn’t sure how much time has passed, but enough has passed that she’s worried about you, and she’s worried about the fact that you haven’t said a single thing.
Ellie steps forward, trying to close the space between the two of you. It doesn’t close, because you back away the second you see her moving. It’s like you’re scared of her, afraid of uttering a single word to the girl in fear that it’ll only create more sorrowful memories that you’ll have to bury with the rest.
You know that if you don’t speak, she won’t leave.
“Ellie?” You breath out, as if you’d been holding it in from the moment you saw her. Ellie realizes how long it’s been since she’s heard you say her name, and now she can’t breath. Your voice hasn’t changed much, and the memories she had of you were becoming more and more blurry with each passing day. Distant echos if your voice calling her name becoming harder to decipher, unable to even tell if it was yours anymore.
But it all comes flooding back when you say it. Memories of you laying your head in her lap, or whispering sweet words in her ear. It’s all coming back in the blink of an eye and she almost can’t handle it.
She breaths out your name as well, and it’s almost like a sigh of relief. Relieved that you remember her, and that she’s standing in front of you and seeing you in the flesh, and not in a dream.
Your eyebrows furrow as she stares down at you, and you make no move to let her in further.
“Why are you here?” You mumble softly, voice thick with defense. You have to protect yourself from her, you promised yourself you would the day she broke you, and you have every intention to keep that promise.
Ellie bites her lips gently before she clears her throat. “I um..I just needed a walk…I got in a few nights ago and uh..Joel told me you lived here now, so..” she trails off. You aren’t sure you’d ever seen Ellie be this fucking awkward. Despite the confidence that oozes from her current appearance, she seems small and nervous and it almost makes you laugh.
You don’t laugh.
You furrow your eyebrows further as you eye her before you roll your eyes, already fed up with the girls excuse. “Joel’s house is on the other side of town, Ellie. Don’t play it off as if you were just in the neighborhood..” you huff out. You can’t help but ice her out, because you’ve held animosity towards Ellie for the last five years. No matter how much you wanted to get over it and be the bigger person, you’re still pissed at her.
Ellie blinks her eyes quickly in shock. She isn’t used to this tone coming from you. Her memories of you were always so sweet, and warm. She knew you wouldn’t take shit from anyone, and it was something she always loved about you.
Just not when you wouldn’t take shit from her.
Her large hand comes up to awkwardly scratch the back of her neck. You feel your insides warm up because you catch a glimpse of the large tattoo that’s covering her hand.
Damn her for getting so fucking hot over the years.
“You got me there…didn’t come as a shock though. You always loved this house” she hummed softly as she looked up at the door, and then down at the pretty flowers that decorated your front yard. It was almost like you in house form.
You tug your bottom lip under your teeth as your eyes avert to your toes, silently cursing yourself because you smudged your pinky during all the excitement that came with seeing Ellie again. You aren’t sure if it’s a good thing, or a bad thing that she remembers little things like that about you.
You figure it’s a bad thing.
You inhale deeply, still staring down at your feet. It’s killing Ellie that you won’t even look at her, she can see the prominent little frown on your face even though you’re looking down. That stupid pout was always her weakness. It’s why she refused to look at you when she broke up with you the night before she flew out to Europe.
“I think it’s best you leave, Ellie…” you mumble softly, suddenly feeling small under the girls gaze. She hates it, because she at least got to stare into your pretty eyes when you were scolding her or being mean to her. But when you were like this….it made it feel worse than all of that.
She knew she deserved it. She knew that what you were now, what you had become, was a result of her own actions. She was the one that did this, she was the one that put you in the position to treat her this way, she knew that…
She just hoped it wouldn’t have been this bad.
She doesn’t say anything, and you take that as an answer enough. You’d rather not stand at your front door being stared at by your ex girlfriend, the only sound being that of the crickets in your garden and the rustling of tree branches in the wind. So, you let out a soft sigh and gently begin pushing your door close, because you can’t take it anymore. You can’t continue being close to her because it still hurts, and you hate that it still hurts after all of this time. It makes you feel pathetic and weak, and you don’t want to deal with it anymore.
But Ellie has other plans.
Her reflexes are just as fast as you remember, because her tattooed hand comes up quickly, palm pressed flat against your door to stop you from closing it on her. The sound of it makes your eyes snap up to hers, and a sense of pride spreads through her chest because she’s finally got your eyes back on her.
She inhales deeply, pink tongue poking out of her mouth as she licks her lips. She has to think fast, and she has to find a way to keep you here because she knows she’s losing you.
“Let me take you out” she blurts out, and it makes your eyes go wide. You used to want nothing more than this, than to have Ellie at your front door, asking you out on a date.
But now that it was happening, it made you feel sick.
You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you tried pushing the door further against the strength of her palm. “That’s not a good idea, Ellie…just…go home…” you mumble out tiredly. Ellie almost let’s out a whine because you’re slipping through her fingers again and it seems like everything she tries isn’t fucking working.
“Please.” She begs, and her tone makes you stop pushing. You stand there as she stares down at you, eyebrows knitted as she silently begs you to hear her out, to not shut her out like she did many years ago.
“Just…so we can talk about everything…and then I’ll…I’ll leave you alone. I promise” she breaths out. Her words are genuine, and although it’s been a long time, you know Ellie, and you know when she’s telling the truth and when she isn’t. Regardless of the fact that she doesn’t deserve it, you can’t help but stare up into those pools of emerald and give in to her, just like you always did.
You let out a gentle sigh before you give her a nod. “I…fine…meet me in town tomorrow morning. Your dad has my-“ she cuts you off before you can even go any further.
“Has your number, I know.” She chuckles softly, hoping that she’s able to lighten the mood even a little bit. But you don’t budge, your words are stern and your brows are furrowed as you stare up at her, determined to let her know that this is simply one conversation she’ll be having with you, and not a sign of getting back into your life.
You give her a firm nod before you look out into the dark abyss that was your neighborhood. Where you lived was relatively safe, but you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling you had when thinking about the girl walking home by herself so late, and so far.
“Do you need me to call him for you? I’m sure he’d come pick you up…so you don’t have to walk all the way back” you mumble out softly. Her lips tug into a smile as she watches you, her stomach fluttering with those stupid butterflies you never failed to give her, because the mere fact that you’re worried about her getting home is giving her hope that she can reverse all the bullshit she put you through, completely disregarding the fact that it could one hundred percent be you just being a good person.
“Nah, I’ve got it from here. I’m a big girl…you get some rest though. I’ll see you in the morning” she hums out, and you swear for a moment your transported back to Ellie dropping you off at your house after a date. She’d always whisper the sweetest things to you after giving you an even sweet kiss, and all though her appearance had changed since then, she still had the power of making you swoon every time she bid you a good night.
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You quickly closed them in fear of saying something stupid before you gave her a quick nod. “Night, Ellie…” you manage to mumble softly, and she gives you her signature charming smile before she jogs off the steps of your porch, and onto the sidewalk that would leave her home, a noticeable pep in her step as she left.
You watch her at your door until she’s out of view, quickly slamming your door shut and letting out a loud huff, your back pressed against the door as you try to recollect yourself and process everything that had just happened.
You stay for a moment longer before you lock your door, close all of your windows and rush upstairs to get to bed, just like Ellie had told you to.
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The next morning was not pleasant.
It was one of those days where you hated every single article of clothing that you owned. Every dress was either too long or too tight, all of your tops were either too big or too small, and every pair of jeans just didn’t go with what you had in mind.
Different articles of clothing covered almost your entire bedroom floor, with no stop in sight as you continued to throw shirts and socks behind you from your closet. You let out a loud huff before you fell backwards onto your bed, your hand holding onto the point at which the towel around your body folded so that it would stay closed.
You had been on your fair share of dates since Ellie. A few when you lived in the city, some while you were back home, all of which were fun and things that you looked forward to, none of which making you feel the way you felt while getting ready for this one.
And calling it a date was a complete stretch. All Ellie asked, was to meet over coffee. More than likely so that she could explain herself and give you the closure she assumed you deserved after five years, so that she’d be able to get any guilt she had for leaving you off of her chest.
But still, you were fucking nervous, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that you wanted to make a good impression. You even grabbed your phone a few times, opening your messages with Joel and typing out a pathetic excuse to him explaining that you had work to do, or you had an errand to run and to tell Ellie you wouldn’t be able to make it.
You didn’t, though. You sucked it up, got your ass of of your bed and took a deep breath in before you went back into your closet, determined to find something decent to wear.
After another thirty minutes of rummaging through your closet, you settled on your favorite pair of blue jeans, a white corset style top that had little lace trimming on the ends, and your favorite pair of sneakers just to be comfy.
The early morning sun beaming down on your exposed shoulders was enough to bring you back to earth, giving you a moment to collect yourself before you saw Ellie again. It was truly all out of a dream, or a nightmare, or a really bizarre situation that you didn’t foresee happening at all for yourself.
Ellie was back, and she made her way to your house to ask you out on a…whatever it was you were currently walking into, and you had no idea what would come of any of this or why you even said yes in the first place.
But one thing you knew to stand true, was that you were still hurt, and you weren’t going to let her off easy.
Once you got into town, you gave a few familiar faces a small wave paired with a sweet smile, one of your hands clutching the strap to your bag as you searched for a small bench to sit on while you waited for Ellie, You settled on one underneath a shady tree.
Ellie feels like her heart stops when she gets out of her dads car and spots you. You’ve always been pretty, Ellie would think about your features and try her best to burn them into her memory after she left because you were always the prettiest girl Ellie had ever seen.
But now…god, now you were ethereal. Your face hadn’t changed much, your hair was a bit shorter and it framed your face a bit more, but you had become a woman. You’d grown up, and you had this overwhelming glow to you that made it hard to look away.
And as you sat there, summer breeze blowing through your pretty hair, the rays of the sun casting down onto your beautiful skin, making it look like you were practically sparkling, in the prettiest little top, you looked like a fucking dream come true. Like every persons fantasy come to life.
And it reminded Ellie of what she chased away, of all that she could have had, but couldn’t since she made her bed and was now forced to lay in it.
She almost wanted to get back into the car and run again, run away from you and the feelings you gave her. She knew this was all a long shot to begin with, and that it wasn’t a guarantee of anything, but knowing that she at least at the opportunity to stare into your eyes for a few moments longer, and create more memories with you that were hers and hers only to keep, it made her weak in the knees, and it made her heart beat faster.
And no matter how long she had with you, it was worth it.
Her feet were carrying her towards you before she could even comprehend that she was doing so, like gravity pulling her closer and closer to her life line. It was like she couldn’t breath properly for five years, a strange weight settling in on her chest every time she was alone and had time to think about things.
One that she no longer felt when she was with you.
Her footsteps crunching against the grass make you look up, and it’s almost enough to make Ellie run. Your eyes are so pretty, and she feels like she can get lost in them for hours at a time.
She misses when your face would light up when you saw her, the way your eyes would sparkle and your plump lips would tug into a shy little smile. Now, all she sees when you look at her is sadness, and pain that she’s caused, and it’s killing her because you don’t trust her anymore, and anyone could see that.
You inhale deeply as you stand up, your hand toying with the strap of your bag as you awkwardly stand in front of her. “Hey…” you mumble softly, and you want to die because you should have said no. You should have told Ellie this wasn’t a good idea and that you didn’t want to see her because you’d rather have not done this just to avoid how fucking awkward the entire ordeal is.
And it hurts to know that this is what you’ve become. The person you regarded as one of your favorites for so long had become a complete stranger. Ellie had lived a life for five years without you in it, and you her, and you feel like there’s no use in even speaking to her anymore because you don’t know her, and she doesn’t know you.
Ellie licks her lips as she watches you, her hands balling up into firsts before she shakes them away, trying to shake away the urge she has to reach out and grab you. That’s the hardest part for her, seeing the girl that she’s wanted for the last five years standing right in front of her, and not being able to grab you and wrap you up in her arms.
She clears her throat, looking around a bit at all of the little shops and stores that are currently opening up. Her hands are stuffed in her pocket as she nods towards them. “Any of these places good?” She questions, and you blink a few times before you nod, pointing towards your favorite coffee shop. She smiles softly when she spots the place, because of course your favorite coffee shop is the most adorable one in town.
Soon, you’re both sitting in a tiny booth tucked away in the corner of the empty coffee shop. Ellie insisted she buy both of your drinks, as much as it bothered you to stand next to her and let her pay for your things, you let her because you didn’t want an argument.
Ellie feels like none of this is even real, because you’re sitting across from her and the sun is hitting your skin in the most beautiful way, and your plump lips are sparkling as they wrap around the straw of your drink, and she’s staring, she knows she’s staring but she can’t help herself. You’re a fucking dream to her, and you always will be.
She blinks a few times before she clears her throat, her large hand cupping her white mug. “So, uh…how have you been?” She questions, her voice nervous and unsure of what exactly to ask you.
You scoff gently, your eyes rolling before you speak up. “Seriously Ellie? How have I been? I don’t see it hear from you for five years and we sit down to talk and that’s what you ask me?” You question in disbelief as you stare at her as if she’s stupid. She groans softly, her strong, veiny hands coming up and rubbing her face harshly before she sighs.
“Fuck. Fuck, I know. I’m nervous, okay? It’s been a long time and…I know this is probably really fucking weird for you but..” she sighs softly, worried that if she keeps going she’ll fuck things up with you even further than she already has. She inhales deeply before exhaling, trying her best to gather her words before she tries again.
“I just…you deserve an apology, a real apology and not some bullshit excuse for one. It’s the least I can do” she pleads genuinely, her eyes searching for any sign of getting through to you.
You sigh softly, your fingers toying with the little raised designs on your glass as you avoid Ellie’s eyes. “Was it at least worth it?” You mumble softly, your voice sad and small.
Ellie feels like she’ll break right then and there.
The guilt she’s felt every day since she left you is no match to what she feels when she hears your words. It’s eating away at her, and it’s making it feel like there a weight sitting on her chest that she can’t get rid of no matter what.
She can’t even find the words to explain to you that none of it was worth it. She sabotaged every relationship she made in college because those girls weren’t you, and she was aggravated with them for not being you and that made things even worse. She missed you every single day, and she wanted nothing more than to come home to you after it all.
Ellie inhales deeply, a deep frown painting her face before she sighs. “I think you and I both know the answer to that…” she mumbles out, because she’s too ashamed to admit to you that it wasn’t at all worth it, and that she was wrong.
You hum softly, giving a slight nod as your finger dances along the rim of your glass. “Joel always wants to brag about how great you’ve done…stops himself so I won’t get sad” you chuckle dryly. Ellie sighs softly, knowing her father all too well, and knowing that he took the chance to brag about her whenever he could.
She opens her mouth to apologize for it, but you cut her off.
“I don’t fault you for what you did Ellie…I thought I did, for a long time..” you breath out, pausing for a moment before you start again, giving her a weak shrug. “I just wished you weren’t…so harsh about it…I don’t mean to make you feel bad but it really fucked me up for a while” you admit, trying your best to convey to her that she hurt you, and that it wasn’t okay.
Ellie licks her lips as she listens to you, eyes never leaving your face regardless of the fact that you refuse to look at her. She adjusts herself a bit so she’s leaning forward, wanting to be as close to you as possible before she speaks. “You have…every right to be upset with me. I thought it was a good idea, and doing it as cold as possible just seemed right for us…we were so attached to each other…I got scared that we wouldn’t make it on our own” she sighs out. She’s rambling at this point, and she can’t stop.
“But fuck, I was so fucking young, we were so fucking young. I was barely eighteen and I was traveling across the world to live on my own and…and I was nervous and scared and I…I just felt like since I was getting the one thing I’d wanted for so long, I didn’t deserve to have you too” her voice is tired, and her throat and mouth is getting dry as she goes on and on and it’s making her voice hoarse, but she can’t stop because this is her one chance to explain everything to you.
You finally look up at her from your glass, a soft pout on your lips as you think back to it all. Ellie never felt like she deserved things. Her supportive father, leaving the town she was born in, you, she felt like those good things weren’t meant to be hers. From the moment you met her, you promised her that she did deserve those things, and that she deserved every good thing the world had to offer.
But Ellie always begged to differ.
You hummed softly, nodding in understanding as you stared into her eyes. “It happened, Ellie. You and I can’t change the past. You have your life in the city, and I have mine here..” you nodded slowly, sighing softly as you look out the window.
“I’m happy you came back, and I’m happy we spoke. Joel misses you a lot you know…you should visit him more often” you smile softly as you watched her before you sighed, reaching into your purse and grabbing a few dollars from it. You count it out quickly before you place it on the table. “Here, this should cover mine..” you nod to yourself before you adjust your bag onto your shoulder and slide out of the bouncy booth seat to leave.
Ellie begins to panic as she watches you get ready to leave, because this is her first time seeing you in five years and there’s no way it’s ending so quickly. She needs more time with you, she needs to look at you longer, she needs to hear more about what you’ve been up to.
“You’re leaving already?” She interrupts, she sounds disappointed. You raise your eyebrows as you look back at her before you give her a slight shrug. “We talked, you explained yourself, I listened. That’s all there is too it, right?” You mumble nonchalantly. She’s already on her feet, grabbing the cash you put on the table and pushing it in your direction.
You giggle softly, pressing your palm against her hand and pushing it towards her body. She feels like she might faint because not only is it the first time she’s hearing your sweet giggle in five years, but your soft hand is touching hers. She can feel herself sweating from the small interaction alone.
“I’m not mad at you anymore Ellie…any guilt you have is gone now…” you nod slowly before giving her a half smile. “Have fun with your dad, okay? It was nice seeing you” you finish, giving her a small wave before turning around and walking towards the door of the coffee shop to leave.
Ellie stands in her spot for a moment, frozen as she stares down at her hand, the one you just touched. She blinks out of her trance and rushes out of the shop, chasing after you as you make your way down the side walk. When she catches up to you, she’s breathing heavily. Your eyes widen as you turn around and catch sight of the talk girl standing in front of you.
“Lemme give you a ride home” she blurts out, causing you to furrow your eyebrows a bit as you watch her. You watch her for a moment, not saying a word, because despite everything, and despite the fact that you gave Ellie a chance to explain herself, you’re still weary of her, and you’d still prefer to keep her out of your life.
But, in typical Ellie fashion, she has other plans.
Knowing she won’t take no for an answer, you eye her for a moment longer before sighing softly and giving her a slight nod. You figure the sun is extremely warm today anyways, and the walk would have you dripping in sweat by the time you made it home anyways.
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The drive home reminds you of when you and Ellie were dating.
You loved watching Ellie when she drove. Her strong hand loosely gripping the steering wheel, her other draped over her own thigh (her favorite spot used to be your thigh), tongue poking past her pink lips as she concentrated on the road, her favorite song playing on the radio, wind blowing through her pretty brown hair.
It was extremely fucking hard to not gawk at her the whole way home.
She struggled too. You looked so pretty sitting next to her, her little passenger princess. Ellie loved doing things for you, she loved feeling needed by you. Providing for you was one thing that made her feel like the best possible girlfriend she could ever be to you.
And even now, when you wouldn’t even utter a single syllable to her in the passenger seat of her dads car, she still felt her chest warm up at the fact that she was driving you home.
The car came to a slow stop once she pulled up to your house, parking in the empty drive way as she turned the car off. She hums softly, her hands falling to rest on her spread thighs as she stares at your house.
You clear your throat a bit before your grab your bag off of your lap, pulling the strap onto your shoulder before you open the door for yourself and give her a small smile. “Thanks Ellie…” you breath you. She gives you a slight nod paired with a smile as she watches you.
But you don’t move.
You know you shouldn’t, but you truly can’t stop yourself from speaking the words that are hanging off your tongue. You inhale deeply before you blurt out “do you…wanna come inside? It’s just so hot and I can get you something to drink before you leave-“ Ellie’s eyes go wide as she hears your words, and before you have time to finish, she cuts you off.
“Yes!” She slightly shouts, causing you to flinch. She clears her throat, quickly giving you a nod as she tries to compose herself. “I mean…yeah…yeah sure I’ll come in. M’not doing anything today..” she breaths out almost sheepishly as she watches you with love sick eyes.
You stifle a laugh as you nod, getting out of the car and walking down the little flowered path that leads to your home. Anxiety fills up your chest because Ellie is standing behind you as you open your door for you both, and you can’t properly count how many times you’ve truly imagined this, but it’s finally happening and you’re losing your mind.
When you finally manage to open the door, Ellie almost falls to her knees because your home is every thing she imagined it would be. It’s filled with all the little things that make you, you. She can even spot a few things that you had when you were younger, and it makes her wonder if you have anything from her still.
You lead her to your living room, letting her know that she can make herself at home before you go into the kitchen. You pour her a big glass of peach sweet tea with ice before you bring it back to her.
Her eyes light up when she spots the drink, and instantly takes it. “Shit, you still make this? My dad talks about it all the time” she rushes out before she takes a large gulp, the girl almost finishing half the glass. You giggle softly as you watch her, humming as you give her a gentle shrug. “It’s a good recipe..can’t let those go, you know?”
Your words can be applied to something else, you both know it.
She sighs softly as she sets the glass down. You raise your eyebrows when you see some of the drink running down her chin. “You’ve got a little…just…uh” you mumble softly as you bend down a bit, bringing your thumb to her chin and swiping it off.
It’s your first time being this close to her, and she feels like the world has stopped right then and there.
Her big green eyes are staring down at you as you wipe the tea off her face, and she clears her throat to hold back any groaning that she’ll do since you’re this close. The noise is what snaps you out of it, and you quickly move away from her, mumbling a quick apology.
Ellie blinks a few times, her cheeks red as she tries to compose herself for a moment. She inhales deeply, opening her mouth to apologize herself before you speak up. “I’ll just…take the glass so you can be on your way..” you mumble softly, reaching down and trying to take the glass.
A loud clap of thunder makes you flinch, a small gasp leaving your lips as you look outside. The heat from earlier has brought in a thick blanket of dark grey clouds that have covered the entire sky. Lightning flashes across the sky before another clap of thunder rumbles through your home, causing Ellie to groan as she stands up.
“Fuck…that one’s gonna be bad…I better get going before it-“ she’s cut off by the harsh sound of the sudden rain fall slamming onto the ground outside, causing her to sigh loudly.
The rain is hard, and heavy, and extremely unforgiving. You’re both staring outside your window as you watch the storm force everything outside to go blurry with the white cast that the heavy water droplets bring.
“You’re not driving in that” you say sternly, quickly moving towards your windows and making sure they’re all shut so that nothing will get wet. Ellie raises her eyebrows as she watches you, knowing all too well that she’d want nothing more than to stay, and the fact that you’re insisting makes her heart flutter with joy.
“It’s not that bad…I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything..” she mumbles softly as she walks towards your other window to make sure they’re closed as well. You watch her from the corner of your eye before you quickly shake your head. “And I wouldn’t want you getting in a car accident. You can leave once it lets up a bit” you nod to yourself, not giving the girl any room for argument.
Ellie bites back a smile as she nods, trying not to get too ahead of herself.
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The storm lasts longer than expected.
What usually is a short summer shower turned out to be a full blown storm that lasted well past sundown. You and Ellie got past the awkward silence that came with her staying over longer much quicker than expected.
You were both sitting on the floor of your living room, Monopoly splayed out between the both of you as you cheated Ellie of her money for the third time that game. Ellie groaned loudly, counting out the few rainbow colored bills before she threw them onto the floor.
“You fucking got me again. I’m broke, I can’t afford anymore property” she grumbles out. You giggle softly, repositioning your countless cards and bills as you shrug. “Shouldn’t have let me be banker then” you hum softly. Ellie smirks softly as her eyes watch you, her heart swelling with how fucking domestic this all felt.
She’d let you rip her heart out of her body if you wanted. Whatever you wanted, she’d give it to you.
You rested your chin on your knee as you stared at the board for a moment before looking over at her. “You always sucked at this game” your words are soft as you think back to the countless nights you’d stay up together playing cheesy board games together. You loved seeing her brows furrow in frustration every time you miraculously beat her once again, adding to your winning streak.
She smiled softly as she nodded, her eyes never leaving yours as she hummed. “You’re just too fucking good” she chuckles softly. Her words make your insides twist with delight, and you know you can’t look at her. Because she’s most definitely doing that stupid smirk that makes you burn from the inside out, and it makes you want to leap over this stupid board game and tackle her stupidly pretty face.
She notices your lack of a response, she takes it as an opportunity.
“I really miss you, blossom..” the nickname is one you haven’t heard in years. It was Ellie’s, and Ellie’s only. She came up with it soon after she had first met you, said it’s cause you reminded her of the prettiest spring flower she’d ever seen.
It makes you pause, stopping dead in your tracks as you began packing away the board game. Ellie knows she’s done it now, but she keeps going.
“And I know I don’t deserve it, but if you can just-“ your words cut off hers, because her voice is pleading and it almost sounds like she’s fucking begging you to hear her out.
“Ellie.” You warn her. She inhales deeply, pushing the board aside to move closer towards you. Her movements are slow, because she wants to give you the opportunity to stop her if you need to.
“Please…just…” she sighs out, her voice thick with a need for you as she places her long, veiny fingers under your chin, tilting it up slightly to force you to look into her eyes. When you do, you feel the air is knocked out of your chest. Her gaze is heavy and intense and she’s so fucking close. Her other hand comes down, pushing your knees apart so that she can make her way between the space of your legs.
“I know I haven’t been around, and I know what I did was wrong but just….please give me a chance to fix it…just one…I promise I won’t fuck this up..” she breaths out. She’s so close that you can feel her breath wafting against your lips. It makes you whine softly, and it makes her feel like she can’t fucking control herself.
Your eyes dart back and forth between her lips and her eyes. Your head is so clouded with her, she’s filling you up to the brim and..
And you don’t want it to stop.
You stare up into her eyes, your own big and needy before you give her a soft nod. It’s all she needs to cup your face with both of her big hands, and kiss you passionately.
You moan softly into her mouth, your hand coming up and gripping her tattooed wrist as she dominates the kiss. Memories from your past with her comes flooding in, because her lips feel exactly like you remember, her so different.
You can tell how much older she is now, how much older you both are. Kisses that were once sweet and innocent are no passionate and heavy. Her need for you is practically pouring into your mouth as she kisses you, it’s sloppy and needy and she uses any opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.
You gasp softly against her, and that’s when she does it. Her tongue is swirling around your mouth, wanting to explore every crevice of you so that she can remember it for the rest of her life. She’s crawling into you, pushing you back so that your back hits the edge of your couch.
“Ellie…” you moan out softly, your hands coming down to tug at her t shirt as you kiss her harder. The sound of your voice drives her further to do more for you. She nods gently as she brings her hand down to undo the clasps of your top. “I’m right here baby…I’m right here…” she sighs out as she begins removing your clothes.
You whine softly, because soon enough you’re nearly bare in front of her. You’re only in a pair of your cotton panties and you can’t help but bring your arms up to shield your chest from her. She frowns softly as she looks down at you, gently pulling your arms away as she leans in to press a loving kiss to your lips. “Don’t hide from me princess…it’s just me..” she hums softly against your lips.
And you know it’s just Ellie, but it’s hard because she’s not you’re Ellie anymore. She hasn’t been your Ellie for five years and it makes it feel like you’re bare in front of a stranger, all while being bare in front of the person you’ve wanted for such a long time, the person you’ve yearned for. It makes your head spin, and it makes it hard to breath and focus on Ellie’s lips on yours.
She knows it, because you’re struggling to kiss her back. She pulls back gently, bringing her hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You with me baby? You need me to stop?” She questions genuinely, her eyes searching yours for any sign of reassurance that you may need as her other hand strokes your arm gently.
You bite your lip as you stare up at her, and you know that if you open your mouth and speak, you’ll break down. You know that if you give in and tell her what’s on your mind, you’ll dig yourself in a deeper hole than you already are in.
Instead, you simply remove your hands from your chest and grab Ellie, pulling her closer and smashing your lips against hers in a needy kiss.
She knows better, she knows something is going on inside your mind. She knows that she needs to go further and make sure you’re okay, but she can’t ignore how good you feel against her, and how long she’s wanted you in this exact position.
She groans softly against your lips as one of her hands travels down to your body. Her skilled fingers pull and tug at your nipple between her fingers, causing you to moan into her mouth before she continues to travel down your body. Her hand finds it’s way between your legs, and she hisses the second she cups your clothes pussy.
“Fuck…so fuckin’ wet for me…you poor thing…” she groans softly. You moan softly as you break the kiss, looking down at the sinful sight that is her hand between your legs, rolling small circles onto your clit. She groans softly, her other hand grabbing your chin as she angles your face up and chases your lips. “Nah uh…need you here baby, need that pretty mouth while I’m playing with your pussy, got it?” She mumbles out, her voice hoarse. Her dominant tone makes your pussy ache, and you nod obediently as you let her back in, kissing her hungrily.
She hums softly as she continues kissing you as she rubs your clit, your slick covering the entire front of your panties. Ellie smirks softly as she finally breaks the kiss, needy to see the mess you’ve made, the mess you’ve made for her. She groans softly as she pulls your panties to the side, hissing softly as she rubs your bare clit a few times before she slips two fingers into you.
“Look at that…so fucking pretty…Jesus Christ…” she whispers out as she stares at your sopping pussy. You moan loudly once her fingers slip into you, your eyes rolling back as your head hits the edge of your couch.
“F-fuck Ellie…right there…fingers feel so..mmm…so good” you moan loudly for her, your back arching up off the edge of the couch as you wiggle and squirm beneath her. Ellie marvels at your body like it’s a work of art, groaning softly as her long fingers fuck up into your weeping cunt.
“Wish you could see yourself, Angel…prettiest fucking girl I’ve ever seen” she groans out as she stares down at your body, her other hand coming up and caressing your body before she cups your boob, giving it a firm squeeze before she moves down to catch your nipple into her mouth, swirling it around her tongue before sucking harshly on your skin.
You cry out for her, your body feeling extremely sensitive as she works on you. She makes sure to not leave any part of you without attention. You moan softly as you look down at her, your swollen bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you tug at her hair, your eyes low, hazy and lust filled as you whine for her.
“M’so close Els…mm…fuck…I can’t fucking…ahh” you cry out, already so fucked out you’re barely able to finish your sentences properly. She smirks softly against your skin before releasing your nipple with a pop, giving you an urging nod as she stares into your eyes. “Come on baby, give it to me…let it out for me, that’s it…” she groans out as she stares at you.
You whine softly as you stare into her eyes. It’s so intense, and it feels like so much more than her just fucking you with her fingers. It’s heavy, and it feels like your missing half is finally back with you after so long.
You’re moaning and whimpering and huffing for her as she works on your pussy, her fingers toying with you as if she knew you like the back of her hand. You want to hold on longer, and make this moment as long lasting as possible. Your eyes squeeze shut as you moan out for her loudly, your back arching almost painfully as you cum hard all over her fingers, moaning her name like a mantra.
Ellie feels like she’s seeing fireworks. She stares at you in awe as you come undone beneath her. It’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, it’s raw and real and it’s you, and she wants to burn it into her memory for the rest of her days.
“That’s it…that’s my good fucking girl…Jesus Christ you’re so fucking beautiful…fuck…” she groans out, and you’d swear she was the one who just came the hardest she’s ever had in her entire life.
Her praises make you whimper as you come down from your orgasm, whining softly as her fingers slow down and slip out of your sore pussy. She leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You’re so fucked out, that you hardly realize you’re being lifted off the ground and up into Ellie’s arms.
You hum softly as you nestle your face into Ellie’s neck as she gently rests you on your bed, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’ll be right back baby…okay?” She mumbles softly as she pushes the hair on your face back. You mumble a quiet response to her as you cuddle into your soft sheets, your bare body cold in the open air of your room.
Ellie returns with a rag from your bathroom with warm water, and she smiles softly at you. Seeing you cuddled up on the bed warms her heart, and she feels like she’s falling in love with you all over again.
She gently pushed your thighs apart, cleaning you up as gently as possible. You don’t seem to mind much, the sound of the rain against your window is enough to lull you into a gentle sleep, which makes her chuckle softly as she leaves the room and tosses the rag into your hamper.
She quickly finds a t shirt for you to wear, slipping it over your body before she tucks you into bed, smiling softly when you cuddle into your pillow almost immediately. Ellie quietly pulls her jeans off, leaving her only in her t shirt and her boxers before she crawls into bed right next to you. She pulls you close by your waist, humming as she pressed her nose into your hair and inhales deeply, the scent of you making her mind floor with memories of you and her in the past.
She sighs softly, her eyes looking towards the window as the harsh rain continued pelting down onto your window before her own eyes closed, her fingers drawing small shapes into your skin as she held you close against your chest.
And as you drifted off into a deep sleep with each passing moment, all you could think about was Ellie, and how much pain she had caused you in the past.
And how much harder it would be to get over it than you thought.
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allylikethecat · 1 year ago
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The cliffhanger you're crazy 😭😭😭😭
Hehe thank you so much for reading! I promise it won't take me as long to finish the next chapter as this one did! I no longer have the A&E fic to consume my entire being, and I *think* we might have some direction again in terms of Ducklings. The good news is that Fictional!Matty knows that Fictional!Ross knows now... right?
Thank you for sending in this ask and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!
❤️Ally
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alltheirdamn · 9 months ago
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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)
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Chap. 3: Violent Delights
Chp. 3 Summary: Every ounce of your resolve fades away as Joel finds his way past your walls. Rating: 18+ MDNI Word Count: 8.5k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, language, mutual pining, slow burn, angst, banter, sexual tension, heavy kissing, cliff hanger (sorrrrryyyyy) A/N: This one may or may not kill you guys... sorry in advance & please don't hate me. I'll make it up to you <3
Masterlist | Ko-Fi
As Boston came into view from the window of the plane, your anxiety began to skyrocket. Exam week flew by, and now it was finally fall break. You had spent half a day scrambling around the house trying to pack while planning when to call a taxi so that you wouldn’t miss your flight. Putting the stress aside, you had made it in time and found yourself trying to ease your mind with a stupid romance book on the flight. You weren’t huge on reading romance, but it was mindless and passed the time as you soared over the states. 
Joel never reached out after he sent himself your number. You didn’t reach out either, which took a lot of self-restraint. You commended him for having just as much restraint because you were sure he’d cave and call you at some point. But the silence was blaring loud, and maybe he only wanted your number ‘just in case.’ You wouldn’t get your hopes up anymore.
You were coming down the escalator when your mom and two sisters came into view. Stella, your youngest sister, was the first to run and wrap you up in a big hug. Her black hair was chopped shorter than before, and she had a bright smile plastered on her face.
“Sis!” She squealed, squeezing your shoulders.
“Hi, Stell,” you laughed, hugging her tight.
“Look who’s home at last,” Beth said, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Stella swing you back and forth.
Beth was younger than you by two years, while Stella was newly eighteen and still full of life. You and Beth hadn’t been very close since you left Boston, the bitterness of your absence still lingering between you both. 
“Hey, Beth,” you sighed, opening your arms to invite her into a hug.
She was hesitant at first but finally caved and hugged you back. It was brief, but you’d settle for it. Your mom was the next in line to hug you, her voice shaky as she welcomed you home.
“Don’t cry, Mom,” you laughed, pulling away.
“I’m just happy you’re finally home. We missed you a lot.”
She took your luggage and guided you through the airport down to the parking garage. Stella lingered close, wanting to hear about your life in Austin and how teaching was going. Beth, on the other hand, hung back and kept quiet. You knew things would implode at some point during the week, but until then, you’d just have to acknowledge the ticking time bomb in the background.
“Where’s dad?” You asked your mom, climbing into the front seat.
“He’s home grilling up some steaks for dinner. He hasn’t stopped talking about you coming home since you booked the flight. He’s missed you the most,” she sighed.
“I missed him too,” you muttered.
It wasn’t lost on you that leaving had caused a gaping hole in your relationship with your entire family. Even if they weren’t the biggest fans of Bennett, they continued to support you through your decisions to move with him and uproot your life. After he left, they begged you to come home, but you knew staying in Austin was what felt right. You had a job and a home; leaving was admitting defeat. You wouldn’t let him strip away the life you had made; you wouldn’t let yourself be a failure. 
The city blurred by as you neared your childhood home. You kept your eyes closed when you passed down the roads Bennett had once driven you, hoping you could force the memories away. But they still lingered. The past always seemed to linger. Stella and Beth chatted quietly in the backseat, leaving you in silence as the house appeared. Nothing had changed: the white brick chipping around the edges, the hedges in the front yard overgrown and unruly. You expected to feel at home, seeing the house again, but it didn’t feel like it once had. 
As you unpacked the trunk and hauled your luggage inside, you heard your dad’s voice floating from the back deck.
“Is that my girl?” He called out, walking through the sliding doors with his grilling tools in hand. 
“It is,” you smiled, dropping your things at the door.
“Hey there, peanut,” he greeted, awkwardly hugging you as his hands were full.
“Hey, Dad,” you whispered.
“Missed you, kid. How was the flight?” 
You trailed him out onto the deck, the smell of smoke mixing with the autumn breeze as it passed through the trees lining the backyard. You had missed seeing the seasons change, the yellowing of the leaves, and the crisp air that seemed to linger throughout the day. Nothing would beat the East Coast in the fall, even if you liked living in Texas now.
“The flight wasn’t bad,” you shrugged, sinking into a lawn chair as you watched him flip the steaks. “I don’t know why four hours in the air felt so long.”
“You know, you could avoid it if you moved back home,” he suggested.
“I like living in Austin,” you argued. “I have a good job, and I’m happy there.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t happy. All I’m saying is that you can always come home.”
You remember him saying the exact same thing after the wedding ceremony went to shit. Two days after the incident, your dad was consoling you on the couch, holding you as you cried and urging you to come home. You can always come home, peanut. 
“I know I can, Dad. Can we please just drop it?”
Your dad chuckled and made a pact with you not to repeat it. You only hoped your mom and sisters would do the same.
Dinner passed under a heavy silence. No one knew how to speak to you without possibly mentioning Bennett… or ‘the incident’ as they liked to refer to it. You awkwardly made small talk between your parents and Stella while Beth sat and pushed her food around. You stole glances at her ever so often, trying to form a plan when you could talk to her. Out of everyone in the family, your absence hurt her the most. She had been the most vocal about your issues with Bennett, which was to your detriment since you had confided in her the most. She gave the harsh truths and tough love, going so far as to try and talk you out of the engagement. In your love-struck haze, you hadn’t listened to her and found yourself defending Bennett—defending your emotions. You wished you had listened to her. 
“So,” your mom started. “Any new love interests?”
You gave her a pointed stare, stabbing the steak on your plate. This was the last thing you wanted: explaining yourself to them. 
“No, Mom. There’s no one to speak of,” you huffed.
“C’mon mom,” Beth laughed, chiming in. “You know she’s still wallowing away in that big house all alone.”
“Beth,” your dad warned. At the same time, Stella whispered, “Beth, don’t.”
“No, it’s okay.” You smiled through your teeth, glaring at Beth, who sat back in her seat with a smug expression.
“You did this to yourself, you know?” Beth said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Did what?” You questioned.
“We all warned you about Bennett. You knew he was no good, yet you stayed. And look! He left you.”
Her words cut deep, deeper than you wanted to admit. You kept your expression stony, not feeding into her words.
“Beth, you need to stop right now,” your mom nearly growled. “You’re out of line.”
“Let her talk, Mom,” you said. “She needs to get it out.”
“Oh, I need to get it out?” Beth snapped. “You’re the one fucking sulking about Austin, pulling this whole ‘woe is me’ bullshit. The signs were all there! Get over yourself. It’s been two years, sis. Move on.”
“Just because we don’t talk doesn’t mean I haven’t moved on,” you exhaled. “I’m still healing from it all, and I’m sorry I’m not including you in that. I didn’t know you needed access to every part of my life.”
Beth slapped her hands on the table, rising to her feet to stare down at you over the plates of food. You shrunk back, trying to keep the tears at bay. She was going in for the final blow. 
“You came to me for advice, and I gave it. You went ahead with the engagement and still ended up alone. He was never going to marry you. You’re a fucking mouse too afraid to defend yourself, and he knew you wouldn’t fight for him back. He’s probably glad he didn’t marry someone as stupid as you. You can’t see the warning signs even when they’re flashing in your face!”
That was it. That was the breaking point. 
You tossed your napkin onto your plate and removed yourself from the table. You drowned out your parents' voices and Stella’s yelling for you to come back as you ran towards the door. 
“Run!” Beth called from behind you. “Run like Bennett did!”
You barely made it out the front door before crumpling to the ground with tears streaming down your face. Staying with Bennett didn’t just hurt you; it hurt everyone. They wanted the best for you, and you didn’t see that until it was too late. Your relationship with Beth had been shattered because you had thrown all the blame on her. You blamed her for every traitorous thought you had about Bennett; you wanted to blame her for your doubts and unhappiness. But it wasn’t her. It was you. Everything was your fault—it always was.
Stella’s small voice saying your name roused you from your crying as she joined you on the porch. Wrapping her arms around your shoulders, she leaned into you and let you cry out every bottled-up emotion. 
“I’m sorry, Stell,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you guys. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I never came home.”
“Shhh,” she hushed. “No one is mad at you for staying in Austin. We understand why you stayed. Beth is just hurt. You shut everyone out, but you shut her out the most. She just misses you.”
“All I do is fuck everything up,” you muttered. 
“No, stop that,” she argued, rubbing a hand over your back. “None of what happened is your fault. You deserved love, and he wasn’t the right one. You’ll find it again.”
“I stayed for too long. I should have left him long before the wedding. I was just hoping it would fix everything.”
“How were you to know?” She sighed. “Just because he was shitty doesn’t mean you can’t be sad. What he did was totally fucked up, and you didn’t deserve that.”
“Tell Beth that,” you laughed through a hiccup. “She thinks I deserved it.”
“She’s hurt. She doesn’t mean those things.”
“But she’s not wrong.”
Stella sighed, pulling away from you to level you with a sympathetic look. 
“I think you guys need to talk it out. Maybe not right now, but when you’re ready,” she offered.
“You’re the young one,” you groaned. “You shouldn’t be consoling your older sister like this.”
“Hey, someone’s gotta be nice to you,” she smiled, quietly laughing.
“Thank you,” you whimpered.
You fell back into her arms and stared aimlessly at the trees blowing in the wind. After a few quiet moments, you finally pulled yourself together and shuffled out of her arms. Stella watched you wearily as you stood, brushing the dirt from your pants.
“I think I’m gonna go for a walk to clear my head,” you announced. “Tell Mom and Dad I'll come back in a few.”
“Are you sure?” She asked.
“I’ll be okay, Stell. I promise. Thank you again,” you sighed, kissing her head.
Dusk fell over the neighborhood as you wandered between the trees and houses. A few neighbors walked their dogs while their kids ran through the streets playing ball or riding their bikes. You never wanted to be out and interacting at home, but you didn’t mind it here. There was no risk. No one would stop you and inquire about your life like they would at home.
As you rounded down the next street, your phone started ringing in your back pocket. You whipped it out and saw the one name you had been waiting for the last week: Joel. Part of you didn’t want to answer; you weren’t in the right headspace. But you had waited to hear from him, and honestly, he was probably the only person to sway your mood for the better. Sucking in a breath, you answered.
“Hello?” You said, hoping your voice didn’t betray you.
“I got a bone to pick with you,” Joel huffed, clearly joking.
But after the events of dinner, his words felt like another punch to the gut.
“Why?” You asked nervously, pulling the phone away to sniffle back more tears.
“I finished Romeo and Juliet, and I—. Wait, are you alright? Why does it sound like you’ve been cryin’?”
You let out a sad laugh; of course, he’d see right through you. He always managed to do that.
“Because I have been,” you sighed. There was no point in lying to him when you knew he’d continue bugging you. 
“What happened? Are you alright? Do y’need me to come get you from somewhere?” God, he sounded so sweet when he was worried.
“I’m fine, Mr. Miller. I’m not even in Austin right now, so you’re off the hook on that offer.”
“Where are you?” He pressed.
“Boston. I’m visiting family over the break,” you explained.
“You from there?” 
“I am.”
“I didn’t take you as an East Coast type of girl, but it makes sense with how stubborn y’are,” he chuckled.
“Yep. That’s me.”
“Alright, I ain’t gonna let you get off the hook this easily. What’s goin’ on?”
You rounded back down another street, holding your phone tighter against your ear, hoping you’d catch every breath in the receiver. Hearing Joel’s voice was enough to soothe your heart after a terrible night.
“Really,” you insisted. “We don’t need to talk about it.”
“I reckon we do. I bet you’ll feel better after.”
“I reckon I won’t,” you mimicked his accent.
Joel let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by your response. It garnered a smile from you as you pictured his lips turned up on the corners, the bottom lip pushed out and pouty like they always were.
“My family isn’t happy with me for staying in Austin. They think I should have moved home a couple of years ago,” you explained. “I’ll spare you the bad parts, but I should have come home. It would’ve made it easier on everyone.”
“But would it’ve made it easier on you?” He asked.
You stopped walking and pinched the bridge of your nose to hold back the coming tears. Of course, he saw it from the latter. He wasn’t siding with your parents, but he didn’t know what you had done and endured to deserve their bitterness.
“Probably, but it doesn’t matter. Listen, you don’t have to worry about me. We can talk poetry instead,” you offered.
“If that’s what y’want, and for the record, I’m gonna worry about you.” You could hear his smile through the phone.
“You don’t need to, Mr. Miller.”
“Joel,” he sighed. “Y’know, you can say my name.”
“I know, it’s just—.”
“All formalities,” he finished. “I just wish you’d quit that because I think we’re far past it by now.”
“I’m trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism,” you laughed. 
Your house was slowly coming into view again, and you felt the nerves creep back in. Eventually, you’d have to face them again, but right now, all you wanted to hear was Joel’s thick accent and husky voice. 
“What’s so wrong about bein’ unprofessional?” He joked.
“A lot, Mr. Miller,” you sighed. 
There was a brief pause on his end, and you bit your lip, wondering if he understood the meaning behind your words. You'd be completely vulnerable to him when you crossed the threshold between professional and unprofessional. Your restraint would melt away, and he’d win. 
“Should I be callin’ you Miss Smith again?” He sounded serious. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and all that.”
“No,” you said all too quickly. “Call me by my name. I—I like it.”
You fucking idiot. 
Joel spoke your name in a lower voice, sending a shiver down your spine. Your steps back to the house slowed as you tried to control a strange urge rushing through your body. Was he teasing you? Was he actually doing that? You had to reel back in all the unprofessional thoughts swarming your head… especially the ones wondering how your name would sound when he was inside—. Stop that. 
“What’re you doing?” You exhaled. 
“Sayin’ your name,” he countered. “Y’said you liked it.”
“Yeah, I do.” You were beyond flustered and hot. “You’re—never mind. I should probably get inside and make peace with my family. Don’t think I forgot about Romeo and Juliet; I still want to hear your thoughts.”
“Call me tonight before you sleep,” Joel said. Oh, Christ. “I ain’t gonna remember the story if I wait any longer.”
“We could’ve talked about it earlier,” you chuckled. “You got sidetracked asking about me.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
You were at the edge of the front yard now, staring blankly at the porch light flickering against the nightfall blanketing the house. You couldn’t stay outside forever or on the phone with him forever—no matter how much you wanted to. 
“I need to get back to my family,” you sidestepped. “I’ll call tonight, okay?”
“Promise?”
You smiled to yourself, gripping the phone tighter in your hand. Damn this man, and damn his charm.
“I promise, Mr. Miller. Goodbye.”
“Bye,” he whispered, your name falling off his tongue one last time.
You were so screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. 
The house was quiet when you walked through the front door. Your mom and dad were lounging in the living room, flipping through channels, and Stella sat at the dining room table, working on her homework. Beth was nowhere to be found, which you figured would happen. Your mom glanced up from the couch with the same sympathetic expression Stella had given you earlier, and quite honestly, you were sick of it. You were sick of being pitied. You were sick of people being sad for you all the time. Yes, you were sad—all the time—but you wanted to be alone in your healing. You didn’t want to feel worse about it all from the people meant to support you. And you knew deep down they did support you, but it didn’t always feel that way. 
You needed to talk to Beth, or this entire week would be hell. 
“Is she up in her room?” You asked your mom.
She gave you a slow nod and then returned to watching the TV. She didn’t have to say anything; she knew why you asked.
Upstairs, your house was divided by two hallways. The left hallway had your parents and Stella’s room, and down the right was yours and Beth’s. You had spent so many nights with her tucked in the bed with you, staying up late talking about anything under the sun and always being each other's best friend. But that all disappeared when she realized how terrible Bennett was. Leaving Boston broke her heart, and in turn, Bennett broke yours and destroyed everything left between you and your family. 
After a sharp inhale and one final wipe of your eyes, you knocked on her door, hoping she’d let you in. The silence behind the door cemented the fact she knew it was you, yet the door opened and revealed Beth just as disheveled as you were. Her long brown hair was tossed up into a bun, and the makeup she had worn earlier was gone, a redness rimming her eyes in its place. You wanted to wrap your arms around her to apologize for everything, but Beth wasn’t that person. She didn’t want affection. She wanted words. 
“Can I come in?” You asked.
She nodded slowly, cracking the door open wider to let you step into her room. It was just as you remembered it: the fluffy white bed in the corner, the scattered polaroids on the wall, and the full-length mirror propped in the corner that you had gotten ready in front of before. Beth sat on the corner of her bed, her head hung as you joined her.
“I’m sorry,” she started. “I was a real bitch at dinner.”
You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder.
“You kinda were,” you chuckled. “But I understand. I shut you out. I shut everyone out, honestly. It’s easier to be alone.”
“No, it’s not,” she argued.
“Maybe, but it’s what I thought was best for me. You were right about Bennett, and I didn’t listen to you when I should have.”
“You may be older, but you are so stupid.”
You laughed harder at that, feeling her hand reach around and grip yours. You squeezed her fingers, your chest rising and falling normally. You missed this Beth, the one that could make light of the worst. 
“You know I couldn’t have come home, right? I made a life out in Austin, even without Bennett. I even went to his law firm and asked where he had gone, and all they said was that he took a job out of state. I was so scared he came back here, and if I came back to Boston, I’d see him again.”
“Why are you so afraid of him?” She asked.
“Because he broke my heart worse than I could have ever imagined. I don’t know what I’d do if I saw him again, Beth. I’d be terrified.”
Beth glanced down at you, shrugging you off her shoulder so you could meet her eyes. Tears swam in her blue eyes, rolling over onto her cheeks.
“You’re stronger than that. You always have been.”
“I don’t feel like it sometimes.”
She sighed, brushing away tears you hadn’t realized escaped your eyes. 
“Don’t let some shit guy ruin your life. You deserve to be happy, sis. There’s going to be someone so much greater out there.”
Flashes of Joel’s dark eyes and curly hair swam into your mind when she said those words. You didn’t want to believe Joel would be that person, but even your mind betrayed you. You willed it away, hoping you’d keep any thought of him lingering in the back of your head.
“I know,” you said. “Eventually, there will be.”
“There’s already someone, isn’t there?” She quirked an eyebrow.
You wanted to deny it and lie, but you wanted your friendship back. So, you told her everything, starting at the father-daughter dance and leading up to the phone call that had just ended. Beth had a massive grin while you spoke, nodding with every detail you shared.
“So… you’re gonna give him a chance, right?” She questioned.
“I can’t. He’s my students’ dad, and I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Then sneak around,” she pressed. “Here’s this amazing guy who’s obviously into you, and you’re gonna let that slip away because of what’s right and wrong?”
“What would you do?” You exhaled, falling back against her bed. You stared at the ceiling fan, watching it twirl in circles, hoping an answer would be hidden in its blades.
“I’d have amazing sex with him,” Beth chuckled, laying back beside you. “And then maybe fall in love, I don’t know. But sex for sure.”
“You’re terrible,” you giggled. 
Beth laughed along with you, shuffling her body closer so both of you were shoulder to shoulder. Coming home would feel like this again, but coming home would mean losing everything all over again. You’d lose your job and the house you loved so much… and you’d lose Joel. For some reason, the idea of not seeing him around made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe Beth was right; maybe you’d give Joel a chance.
It was well into the night when you finally found yourself unwinding in bed and curling under the covers. You held your phone close to your chest, wondering if it was too late to call. In Boston, it was nearly midnight. Austin was only an hour behind, but you knew Joel worked early with his company. You didn’t want to assume he’d be asleep already, but the chances were slim he was awake and waiting for you. 
You dialed his number anyway.
It barely reached the second ring before he answered, your name as sweet as ever rolling through the receiver.
“I didn’t think you’d call,” he said. “Figured you forgot all about me.”
“Never,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice down. Everyone was asleep in the house, and the last thing you wanted was for them to hear you talking on the phone late at night like you were a teenager all over again.
“Y’figure everythin’ out with your family?” He asked.
“Yeah, it’s all good now.”
“Why’re you whisperin’?” He chuckled.
“Because everyone is asleep,” you tossed back.
“Sneakin’ around late then, huh?”
“Don’t tease me, Mr. Miller.”
“I’ll tease all I want,” he countered.
You blew out a breath, rolling over in the bed. With your knees curled up to your chest, you listened to Joel’s soft breathing and wondered if he was in bed, too. You wondered what he looked like, stretched out against the mattress, and if his body was as warm as his smile.
“Are you going to tell me about Romeo and Juliet? Or are you just going to sidetrack us again?” You asked softly.
Joel let out a heavy sigh, and you could hear rustling behind him. He was in bed, and for some reason, that enticed you. 
“You coulda warned me that they both die,” he started. “If it weren’t for Paris, they coulda had a happy ending!”
“The whole point of the story is to have a tragic ending. Shakespeare warned everyone in the foreshadowing, with Montague saying, ‘These violent delights have violent ends.’ It’s supposed to be a story about the chaos of passion.”
“Still ain’t makin’ up for the fact they never got to be together,” Joel grumbled.
“Not every story is a happy ending,” you exhaled, wincing at the words you spoke. You didn’t die because of Bennett, but the story hit too close to home. Between the chaos of family and the violent ends of your relationship, you had nearly become Juliet, killing herself over a man. Not literally, but the pain after the wedding was a death within itself. 
“Why d’you like it so much?” Joel asked.
“Wasn’t that your job to find out?”
“I’m not gonna lay here and make assumptions ‘bout you, but I get the feelin’ you’re a lot like Juliet.”
“Maybe,” you muttered quietly. 
“Who’s Romeo then?”
He didn’t sound angry, but you knew he only asked because he wanted to understand you better. And fuck, if that wasn’t a turn-on in itself.
“He’s the one that left me at the altar.”
There was a heavy silence from his end of the phone. You wanted to take the words back and shove them deep within you where the world couldn’t hear them. No matter how many times you said it aloud, it never felt easier. But it was the unfortunate truth; your love story had a tragic ending.
“Jesus fuck, I’m so sorry,” Joel exhaled.
“Don’t be. I’m okay.”
“Whoever did that didn’t deserve you. Perfect girl like you ain’t deserve someone that shitty.”
Perfect girl.
You had to clench your thighs together at the way his voice roughened when he said those two words. You wanted to play them on a loop over and over until you were mindless. Bennett never called you perfect—beautiful, maybe, but never perfect. He knew you for five years and never said it; Joel knew you for a month and not only said it…but believed it.
“I stayed with him a lot longer than I should have.”
“Wanna talk about it?” Joel offered, his voice gentler than a moment ago.
“Not right now,” you whispered. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“I’m listenin’.”
You were playing with fire now, and maybe it was the vulnerability of the day catching up to you, but Beth’s words were stuck in your head. There’s going to be someone so much greater out there. 
“Ask me anything you want over dinner.”
Silence. Dead silence. 
You held your breath, waiting for a response, waiting for anything. You could handle rejection, or at least you hoped you could. You hadn’t put yourself out there since Bennett left, and the idea of being unlovable was hard to wrap your head around. Did he ruin you to the point of no return? Was there any hope left?
“I’m not gonna take y’out to dinner and talk about your ex-fiancé,” Joel grumbled. 
“Oh, okay, yeah. I understand.”
The tears were welling in your eyes now, threatening your composure. He didn’t want to take you out anymore; that was fine. Who would want to deal with the broken pieces left in the wake of your past?
“If I’m gonna take you out, it’s gonna be a proper date where I get to know you,” Joel lowered his voice, the sound echoing through your head.
“A date?” You laughed nervously.
“Yes.” He said your name in a stern tone that stalled your breathing. “Quit bein’ all professional, and let me take you somewhere nice so I can really get to know you. That’s all I been wantin’ to do.”
“I’ll make you another deal,” you offered.
“God, you and your damn deals. Alright, let’s hear it,” he chuckled.
“When I’m back, ask me on a proper date.”
“Haven’t I already done that? The offer still stands, y’know.”
“I wasn’t ready to say yes when you asked. I think I’m ready now.”
“Bout damn time,” he laughed. “I swear I’m a patient man, but I’ve been goin’ out my damn mind waitin’ for you.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. That was always the default response these days.
“You’re worth waitin’ for, I promise.”
You were at a complete and total loss for words. How did Joel always say everything you had always wanted to hear? You tried not to compare him to Bennett, but this was far beyond anything you had received in the past. It was foreign but so sweet. You allowed yourself to take the plunge; now, every risk was heightened. If the heartbreak Bennett had caused was this bad, you hoped never to find out what losing Joel would feel like. 
“Y’still there?” He asked.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” you whispered. You didn’t realize how long your thoughts had silenced you. “I’m looking forward to you asking me.”
“And I’m lookin’ forward to askin’…again.”
You smiled to yourself and shoved your head further under the covers. You could hear Joel yawning on the other end of the phone, and you realized just how late it was. You could listen to him talk until you fell asleep, but you wouldn’t keep him any longer.
“Go and get some sleep, Mr. Miller.”
“Y’sayin’ I’m old?” He grumbled.
“I’m saying I can hear you yawning over there,” you quipped.
“Alright, alright. Maybe we should both be gettin’ sleep. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Goodnight,” he whispered.
“Goodnight, Mr. Miller.”
The rest of the week went smoother than you had imagined. After the conversation with Beth, you both fell back into the familiar routine of being close. You’d catch her sliding you small smiles while you were out around the city, a deep concern crossing over her eyes, knowing how hard it was to relive the memories. Boston hadn’t changed, making it easier knowing you had made the right decision to leave. Stella introduced you to her new boyfriend, and your parents cooked a huge dinner to include him in a family evening together. And every night, you’d stay up late talking to Joel on the phone. 
He told you tiny snippets of his day and what had happened at work while you shared pieces of your day traveling around town with family. You noticed how he sidestepped or avoided asking deeper questions about you, and it was sweet knowing that he really wanted to wait for that date to ask those questions. Those late-night talks became something you looked forward to, even if they were filled with mundane things to chat about. 
Friday came quicker than you expected, and you were fidgeting to get on the plane home. Joel had asked the night before when you were landing and insisted on being the one to pick you up from the airport. You were struggling to continue saying ‘no’ to him, and frankly, you wanted him to be the first person you saw when you arrived. 
Austin’s skyline was dotted with lights as the plane touched down in the evening. Those few hours on the plane felt like an eternity, but as you scrambled down the tunnel into the airport, you felt a surge of excitement flowing through your body. Something had shifted over the week between you and Joel; that line between professional and unprofessional slowly disappeared. You were losing the battle inside you to keep your distance from him, and God made it so easy to do that. His charm kept you coming back for more, and the idea of what could happen between the two of you was terrifying, but the risk was beginning to look less dangerous. You felt comfortable, which was far from what you felt with Bennett. You always had to be the best version of yourself, the perfect image of a perfect girlfriend and fiancé. But you realized with Joel, you could let your control slip. He had seen and heard your vulnerability more times than you wanted to allow, yet he didn’t run away. 
He didn’t run away.
That thought slammed into you as you walked through the airport, knowing you weren’t walking towards an empty altar. You were walking towards a man willing to wait for you—for the first time. 
As you made it through the crowd of other travelers, you finally emerged into the lower level of the airport, your eyes darting around to find Joel. In the chaos of bodies walking around, his tall figure stood above the rest, a small bouquet of flowers in hand. Your steps slowed as you approached, your eyes shifting from the flowers to his welcoming smile. 
“What’s this?” you asked, your cheeks pink from running or seeing him; you weren’t sure.
“Figured it would be a nice way to welcome you home,” Joel smiled, handing them to you. 
The flowers were an array of colorful carnations, their orange and pink petals standing out against the green leaves surrounding them. You took them from him and watched as he replaced the flowers in his hand with your luggage, insisting on carrying them for you. He wore a multi-colored flannel, the material stretching over his back and shoulders as he lifted your bags. You stood back, mesmerized, as he led you toward the parking garage. 
“Thank you again,” you said. “I know you had a long work day, so thank you for driving out here.”
Joel looked over his shoulder and smiled at you. You noticed the scruff on his face was a bit grown out from the last time you saw him, but those bare patches still stood strong. There was a strange urge inside you to kiss them and feel the warmth of the skin underneath. 
“It’s no trouble at all,” he said. 
His truck was parked far back in the parking lot, which made the walk together longer than you expected. The smell of the flowers enveloped you as you held them close to your chest. You could only count a handful of times Bennett had gotten you flowers and could count even fewer times he actually picked you up from the airport. Any time you went home to visit family, which was far and few, he used the excuse of work to avoid being there for you. 
Joel lifted your luggage into the backseat of his truck, turning to you once he shut the door. He spoke your name softly, staring down at you as you gave him a curious look. 
“Well, since you’re home now, I’m just gonna ask it,” he started. “Would you go out to dinner with me?”
“I’d love that,” you smiled, a blush crawling up your neck. 
“Good,” he nodded. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Wait, you mean right now?”
Joel leaned closer to you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 
“I told you I’m a patient man, but I ain’t waitin’ any longer. So get your stubborn ass in my truck, and let me take you out.”
“You’re relentless, Mr. Miller,” you rolled your eyes. 
Joel opened the passenger door for you, waiting patiently as you climbed in and buckled yourself. 
“I’m gonna make sure you stop callin’ me that by the end of the night,” he said, his eyes trained on you. 
Your breath stalled, and you wondered about the meaning behind his words. Joel probably didn’t mean it sexually, but that’s exactly where your brain went. This was only a date, nothing more, nothing less. You were already giving into him with this; you wouldn’t give in any more than that—no matter how badly you might want to. 
“We’ll see, Mr. Miller,” you smirked.
Joel’s brown eyes darkened at your challenge, and you hoped he didn’t notice how your thighs clenched to quell the warmth pooling inside your stomach. You were staying strong on this one; saying his name meant giving up control entirely. If you gave up the control, you’d give up everything, and you weren’t sure if you could do that to yourself—not yet, at least.
You made small talk with Joel on the drive to his chosen restaurant. It was a casual steakhouse, but you were obviously underdressed from being on a plane for nearly four hours. Joel wasn’t much better either; his attire always seemed too casual and messy. Oddly enough, it was growing on you. You couldn’t imagine him wearing suits or dress-casual attire; it didn’t suit his persona. He was rugged through and through, and you liked that. You had judged him so early on, but the carefree way he carried himself amplified your attraction to him. Bennett always wore some bullshit suit and tie for work, looking overdressed and uncomfortable. Whenever he wasn’t working—which was rare—he still looked like a pretentious East Coast snob with his dress slacks and polo. God, the more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off. 
Once Joel and you were seated at a table and ordered, you found yourself squirming in your seat. Joel’s eyes were warm and unwavering in the restaurant's lighting as he focused on you. With his hands folded on the table, he kept his body pressed forward just to get closer to you. 
“So, I know y’told me you had sisters,” he started. “Beth and Stella, right?”
“Mhmm,” you nodded, sipping the red wine before you. You hadn’t planned on drinking, but your body demanded some sort of aid in numbing the nerves coursing through your veins. “Stella is the youngest. She’s eighteen. She graduated high school this year and started attending Boston College in September. Beth is two years younger than me and works in graphic design for a company in downtown Boston.”
“If Beth is two years younger, that makes you…”
“I’m twenty-seven, Mr. Miller,” you chuckled. 
Joel’s eyes widened a bit, most likely as he realized the age gap between you both. Clearly, he had to have noticed by now, but his reaction was still comical. You nervously bit your lip, wondering if the distance between your age would make him less interested. It’s only a date, you reminded yourself. He wasn’t interested in you that much. 
“Shesh,” he whistled, leaning back into his chair. “I ain’t take you to be that young.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” you muttered. 
He shook his head, reaching for his beer, and you watched him take a long sip before responding. 
“No, it’s not like that,” he reassured. “Y’just surprise me, that’s all.”
“How so?” You asked, leaning forward. 
“Y’act so mature sometimes,” he explained. “You’re big on actin’ professional and adult-like.”
“It’s my job,” you said.
“Bein’ a teacher shouldn’t stop you from enjoyin’ your twenties,” he countered. 
You sighed, nodding along to his words. A lot of things had stopped you from enjoying your twenties, like a particular asshole you thought you’d spend your life with. Being young and careless was never something in the cards for you, and honestly, the closest thing you had gotten to that was the night Joel saw you at the bar. 
“Do you feel like being a young dad did the same for you?” You asked. 
Joel inhaled sharply, scratching the back of his neck. You began to realize he did that a lot; in nervous moments, in moments he was deep in thought, in moments he felt awkward. Right now, you assumed it was because he was trying to formulate some sort of response. 
“I ain’t really had a choice in it. When Sarah’s mom left, I was pretty lost tryna do the ‘dad’ thing. I had to juggle between work and bein’ present, and Tommy was young then, too, so he couldn’t help much. I just tried my best and learned as I went.”
“How old is Tommy?”
“Younger than you,” Joel laughed. “He’s twenty-five.”
“Oh gosh, you guys have a big age gap, too.”
“That we do.”
The waiter brought your meals, forcing the chit-chat to stall while you indulged in the steak and side dishes in silence. Occasionally, Joel would hum as he ate, glancing up at you to see your reaction to the flavors as well. You returned his curious eyes with soft smiles, indulging in how he looked at you like you were something he hungered for far more than the food in front of him. When the plates cleared and your napkins were disposed of, Joel asked the waiter for another round of drinks so that you both had no option but to remain seated in each other's company. 
“What made you want to be a teacher?” He asked, smoothing down the flannel over his stomach.
Your eyes caught onto the movement of his hand as it brushed down his navel, the veins flexing as he readjusted himself in his chair. Joel dipped his head slightly to draw your attention back to his soft eyes, and you instantly felt caught in your actions. 
“I’m not sure, honestly. I’ve always loved literature, and the idea of teaching young kids about it just seemed appealing. There’s a lot of power in words, you know? I want to show them that.”
“That’s pretty poetic of you to say,” he smirked. 
“Well, I hope so. I literally teach poetry for a living.”
Joel chuckled quietly, the lines around his eyes crinkling as his smile stretched across his face. Was it terrible that you were picturing him kissing you? Despite every thought in your head that shouted at you not to think about it, it was all you could focus on. 
“Do you enjoy your job?” You countered. 
“I do, most days. Tommy and I are tryna start up our own business one day, but it ain’t in the cards yet. I need to save up a bit more and hopefully work on gettin’ permits and all that before I can actually do it,” he explained. 
“I believe in you,” you said softly. “You’re a hard worker, Mr. Miller.”
“Well, thank you.” His cheeks reddened at your words. 
Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, stealing shy glances and laughing at the emptiness of words. Joel had said he wanted to get to know you more, but the questions seemed far and few. In your mind, you considered that a second date could be in the cards, seeing as though neither of you had yet tired of the other. Even in the quiet moments, Joel had remained completely enraptured by you, never letting his eyes stray too far from yours. 
“Y’ready to get home?” He asked once the bill was paid for.
“I suppose so,” you shrugged. 
Joel’s hand was firm on your lower back as he guided you out of the restaurant and back to his truck. The featherlike touch against your clothed skin was enough to awaken that warmth back into your body, the feeling of it blooming inside you with each step. Inside the truck, you watched as the streets blurred past as Joel drove toward your home. The night was ending, yet you still ached at the thought of him leaving. You didn’t dare to take anything further, and you still didn’t know if that was something he wanted—or if it was something you wanted. 
Seeing your tiny home was a breath of fresh air as Joel put his truck in park. You gathered the flowers from the seat and quietly helped him unload your luggage. The tension between you thickened with each step as you approached the front door. Turning to him, you smiled and squeezed his arm.
“Thank you,” you said, hesitating by the door. “For tonight and everything.”
Joel’s eyes sparkled under your porch light, the darkness of his irises illuminated and dancing in the shadows. He had shrugged off his flannel after hauling your luggage from the truck, and now it hung over his arms, exposing the corded veins running from his hands to his biceps.
“Of course,” he said your name softly. “Y’look beautiful tonight, by the way. I can’t remember if I told you that or not, but really, you’re beautiful.”
Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and there was no way of hiding the redness creeping over your face and neck. He watched you with a hungry gaze, his eyes roaming your body. Even if you only stood in a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, Joel looked at you like you were bare before him. 
“Thank you,” you smiled. “I—I know I look like shit, but thank you.
“Y’definitly don’t look like shit,” Joel insisted. “I’ll plan another date so y’can get all dolled up and look even more beautiful. 
“That’s not really necessary. I mean the dressing up part, not the date part. I’d like to go on another date.” You were rambling at this point.
“Sure it is. The world deserves to see y’look beautiful, even if I want to keep you to myself selfishly.”
“Stop it,” you blushed. “Go get home before it gets too late.”
“You tryna get rid of me that quick?”
“I know how much you enjoy talking,” you laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he grinned, turning to leave. “Y’have a good night, okay?”
“I will. Goodnight, Joel.”
Then you realized what you had said. 
He realized it, too. 
“Y—,” Joel cut himself off. Shaking his head, he let his flannel fall to the ground. “Fuck it,” he whispered.
Joel swarmed you, pressing you against the door as his hands came up to cup your face. Without a second to breathe, his lips crashed against yours until stars sparked behind your eyes. His mouth was warm as he devoured you slowly, drinking in every noise you made. Every one of your senses was evaded by him: the scent of his cologne drifting over your body, the heat of his skin against yours, the sound of his mouth breathing into yours. You found yourself hesitant at first, adjusting to the hardness of his body pressed against yours. He must have also realized it, his mouth slowing as he pulled away. 
“I—shit,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Your fingers crawled up his chest and gripped at the collar of his shirt, hauling him back to you until your mouth was a breath away from his. 
“Just shut up and kiss me again,” you whispered. 
Then his lips pressed against yours again, this time frantic and all-consuming. You opened your mouth to him, letting him taste the vulnerability spilling out of you, replacing it with desperation you hadn’t yet dared to feel. Your tongue darted out to brush over his bottom lip, and he captured it in another greedy kiss, intertwining himself with you. Joel’s hands moved to tangle in your hair, his fingers lightly pulling as he drew you in closer. Your hands wound their way around his neck; your chest flush against his until all you could feel was the rapid beating of his heart matching yours. There was no way of telling where he began and you ended; you both had melted into one. Lips, teeth, tongue… over and over again, the motion repeated, and you felt the warmth creeping up your spine the more he moved against you. You sunk your teeth into his lip, tugging it slightly, as you pulled away to gasp for air. 
“Joel,” you exhaled, panting softly. 
“Yeah, baby?” His voice was rough as he pressed his forehead to yours.
“What are we doing?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna stop.”
He lowered his lips to kiss down your neck, the chill of his mouth on you prickling your skin. You couldn’t form any words to tell him to stop. You didn’t want him to stop. You were mindless and boneless in his strong grasp, completely untethered from your control. All you could focus on was the way his mouth roamed over the column of your neck, the veins that your blood rushed through throbbing under his lips. Joel’s hand traveled back around, his thumb tipping your jaw upwards so that he could kiss more of your skin. Your eyes blinked at the flickering bulb of your porch light, the sound of crickets chirping somewhere in the distance. His tongue traced a line up your neck, his teeth nipping against your jaw. You let out a soft whine as his mouth connected to yours again, the passion between you snapping into place. 
The night wasn’t ending here. You needed more. The craving was too intense to keep at bay, and you needed him in ways you had been too afraid to admit. Your fingers wound themselves into the curls at the base of his neck, holding him firm against you as you grinned into his open mouth. 
“Come inside,” you mumbled against his moving lips. 
You fumbled blindly for your keys, twisting around to unlock your door; all the while, Joel kept his lips on any part of your skin he could find. He reached around you to shove the door open, and with one arm wound around your waist, you both tumbled over the threshold.
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