#but if you come and talk to her about her pain she will not be “what do YOU know about pain”

[feluka]

"How many of you like have you ever been to Jerusalem? Raise your hand if you have ever been to Jerusalem. We have 60 students here, and we have one... two, probably three... That's that's very few of you! I've never been to Jerusalem. We're Palestinians; we live in Gaza; we can't go to Jerusalem because of the Israeli occupation.

But we love Jerusalem, right? [A chorus of students saying "yes".] We love Jerusalem because of what it means to us. We've never been there, but believe me, when you go there you will feel that you've been there hundreds of times. Because you read about Jerusalem in literature, in stories. Of course it doesn't mean that that's it, that we should take the Jerusalem that's in the stories and that's it, no.

But in literature, Jerusalem comes back to us. It's true that there is suffering; there is pain; there is occupation, and that's why Tamim Al-Barghouti, as a young Palestinian poet, I think is doing a great service to the Palestinian cause and the Palestinian struggle.

When you listen to him reciting his poem from Al-Quds, or other poems, he takes you to Jerusalem. You live in Jerusalem. He takes you back to it. You liberate it for just a little bit of time.

And if there is hope; if you can imagine a free Palestine, a free Jerusalem, probably you will work towards that, and the same thing applies to occupied Palestine. We've never been to other parts of Palestine because of the Israeli occupation, but we've been told so many times by our parents and our grandparents, especially our mothers, they've been telling us stories about Palestine in the past, the good old days, when Palestine was all beautiful, unoccupied, unraped.

Therefore, I say in in this case how our homeland turns into a story. In reality, we can't have it; we don't have it, but it can turn into poems, into literature, into stories, so our homeland turns into a story. We love our homeland because of the story. We love our homeland because of the story, and we love the story because it's about our homeland, and this connection is significant.

Israel wants to sever this relationship, for example between Palestinians and the land; Palestinians and Jerusalem, and other places and cities, and literature attaches us back - connects us strongly to Palestine, so in my thinking, this is a very significant thing that literature contributes to. Creating realities; making the impossible sound possible.

In real life, again because we are here in Palestine and Gaza, I'll be giving you examples from Palestinian and Arab literature so we can compare and make things clearer. We all know Fadwa Tuqan, the Palestinian poet - and please do not introduce her as Ibrahim Tuqan's sister, let's talk about her as Fadwa Tuqan and then somewhere else mention that, "by the way, Ibrahim Tuqan was her brother". Let's not throw her under the shadow of a man, even if it's her brother, who was a great poet, we can't deny that.

So this is Fadwa Tuqan, a Palestinian poet, 40 years ago or 50 years ago, writing poetry... Of course, we always fall into this trap of saying "she was arrested for just writing poetry!" We do this, even us believers in literature, "Why would Israel arrest somebody or put somebody under house arrest if she only wrote a poem?!"

So we contradict ourselves sometimes. We believe in the power of literature, changing life as a means of resistance, a means of fighting back and in the end we say, "She just wrote a poem!" We shouldn't be saying that.

Moshe Daya, an Israeli general, said that the poems of Fadwa Tuqan were like facing 20 enemy fighters. Wow.

She didn't throw stones; she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli military jeeps. She just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again, I'm saying "she just wrote poetry".

So this is what how Israel's dealing with Palestinian poets, and the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry celebrating Palestinian struggle; encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back. She was put under house arrest. She was sent to prison for years.

And therefore I end here with a very significant point. Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.

Palestine was presented as these things, I'll be mentioning some of them, but there's a contradiction here, there's a paradox always. "Palestine is a land without a people to our people without a land", "Palestine flows with milk and honey", "there's no one there, so let's go". We'll see how later on, how many even Jewish people were disappointed when they came to Palestine. Number one, there was no milk and honey, because "flowing with milk and honey" sounds like you're just going to be groping around, and milk and honey will be thrown at you - and there were people! There have always been people in Palestine.

The fact that Israel worked hard to ethnically cleanse Palestine, to kick Palestinians out, first and foremost in literature - yes, in politics and everything - shows how significant poetry is.

To sum up, Palestine was occupied metaphorically in the poem long before it was physically and militarily occupied in your life, so let's do the same. Let's fight back; let's restore Palestine in in our writings; in our poetry; in our stories."

-Professor Refaat Alareer explaining to his students the power of poetry as a means of resistance, and why the occupation targets poets, during one of his lectures at IUG.

#refaat alareer #free palestine #literature #poetry #i'm always in awe of him when i listen to him #i'm thinking of making summaries of his other lectures too though i'd rather people hear it from him

[odinsblog]

“I had a Zionist grandmother who grew up, she grew up in Poland, she was supposed to go to Israel to study. Her father had paid for her for the first year of tuition. And then in 1939, when she was in her last year of high school, Germany and the Soviet Union invaded Poland.

She ended up for a couple of years in the Soviet-occupied part of Poland, which was how she ended up in Moscow. And by the time Germany occupied all of Poland. So then she spent the rest of her life living in Moscow.

And 45 years after the end of the war, dreaming of being able to go to Israel, but not being able to because she was now stuck in the Soviet Union. And so I think I was very infected by, infected in a non-derogatory sense, by my grandmother's dream of Israel. And I had my own dream of Israel growing up as a, as a Jewish kid who was bullied and beaten up and teased.

I just wanted to live in a country that, that was majority Jewish. I could not understand why my parents would want to go to the United States and live in another country where Jews are in the minority. My parents on the other hand just didn't want to be Jewish.

Like their only experience of being Jewish was being systematically discriminated against. They were both born during the Second World War, so they were second generation, utterly non-religious and separated from any Jewish tradition, except the tradition of being a targeted minority. So they just, they just wanted to go somewhere where they wouldn't be Jewish.

And so when I was 15, a year after we moved to the United States, I actually went to Israel planning to stay there and didn't. For a variety of reasons, but one of them was being confronted with, with what I found at the age of 15, a shockingly racist society.

So the first time I went to Israel was when I was 15, it was 1982. And then there was like an 18, 17 or 18 year gap.

And I started traveling to Israel regularly from 1999, 2000. And the first time I went back was to actually complete the research on the book about my grandmother's. So it's been a good 25 years that I've been coming back.

And I think Israel has undergone a lot of changes in that time. But no, I don't think that like the kind of Ashkenazi Sephardic racism that shocked me in 1982 has found subtler expressions. But politics of settlement have only been exacerbated.

And I still find them extremely painful to observe, especially because some of my beloved relatives are settlers.

I did visit them this last time I was in Israel, because I really wanted to see what it looked like for them.

I was compelled to go visit them because of a Facebook post that my cousin made. And just to give you an idea, I really hold these people very, very dear. But for years, I would go to Israel, Palestine and not tell them that I was there, because I kind of couldn't face them.

So it's been a number of years since I last saw them, a number of years since I went to that settlement. But my cousin had posted something on Facebook. It was a picture of her son playing the violin.

And she wrote, in one of the houses where they stayed in Gaza, there was a violin. He played for his soldiers and then put the violin back. And I found that post-heart trending and eye-opening, the picture of him playing the violin was not from Gaza.

It was from earlier, but he had apparently told her about playing the violin in Gaza. And obviously she was worried about her son serving in Gaza and so she's posting about it. And she wants to assert that he is a good boy.

But also, entirely missing from that post and from her world view is that somebody lived in that house in Gaza. That violin belonged to somebody. Like, it was such an extraordinary example of the blindness that we were talking about a little bit earlier that I wanted to go visit them and kind of engage with that blindness more.

And I got a really good dose of blindness to the point where, and we had this incredible moment when we went walking around the settlement after Shabbat lunch. And we sort of got to this hilltop where there's a swing and there's a little free library.

And we're looking out on a Palestinian village. And I said, what are we looking at, to my cousin? And she was trying to get her bearings.

And she said, where are we looking? And she named another settlement, which was kind of, which was not on our line of sight. It was like this literal example of looking at an actual Palestinian village that she drives past every day.

And before the village was sealed off after October 7th, she used to get gas there. And she knows it exists. But somehow she, also it also doesn't enter her geography.

It is nameless.”

—Masha Gessen, the descendant of Holocaust survivors, discusses the dehumanization of Palestinians (part 2 of 3)

#politics #palestine #israel #masha gessen #antisemitism #anti zionisim #anti zionism ≠ antisemitism #weaponized antisemitism #weaponized zionism #hasbara #israeli propaganda #identity politics #weaponized identity politics #🇵🇸 #idpol #israel is a terrorist state #israel is an apartheid state #college protests #dehumanization #settler violence #settler colonialism

[fairuzfan]

I'm watching two documentaries of one of my familys' villages and Palestinian and 'Israeli' witness accounts from the Naksa and a Jewish tour guide comes to one of the villages (which were the 3 villages side by side, all of them affected) and points to a bathhouse with gravestones all around it. The area of all three villages is now completely demolished and the Jewish National Fund built the "Canada Park" (funded predominately by Canada! Through tax deductible donations!), as well as an Israeli settlement, on top of it. An Israeli woman sits, eating from the trees that my ancestors planted, and she says "this is war. I dont feel the pain from these places, the pain of the people. This is what happens in war." Can you imagine? She sits, eating from my ancestors trees and she says "it doesn't matter to me." The level of selfishness to be so confident in your theft!

In the documentary, a Palestinian elder from Yalo says, holding back tears, that her dream is to go back to Yalo and die and be buried in her home, where her husband died. That was my great grandmothers' dream that was never realized, just a few years ago in a village not far from Yalo.

They talk about how this was a war crime, a crime against humanity. Since '67 we have been having these discussions. Since '48 we have been talking about war crimes committed by Israelis! These are the same discussions we keep having! The same facts we keep repeating! Even Yitzhak Rabin says the same things, that this is war, this is what happens in a war! It's the same things over and over and it's happening in Gaza!

There are people still alive who participated in the ethnic cleansing of these villages. They participated in demolishing these villages. They participated in killing those village members. They participated in the generations of poverty that Palestinians experience. They're still alive and just walking around in Israeli society, encouraging the genocide in Gaza. How can I trust a society like that? Knowing that these people are lauded as heroes for erasing these villages. How can I trust them when barely anyone in this society acknowledges the violence done onto us? Abhorrent violence that they let happen so willingly!

Here are the documentaries. These three villages were ethnically cleansed in '67, and it's shocking to hear the same sort of stories we hear from Gaza today. The same playbook, the same places.

Villages: Yalo, 'Imwas, Bayt Nuba

#palestine #naksa

[kamii-2]

Can you do Paige x pregnant reader on live with kk

hi anon! i love the request but i made it different than what you asked for also let’s act like the season isn’t over and stuff like that

warning(s): cussing, pregnancy (obviously)

genre: fluff

pairing(s): paige bueckers x pregnant!reader

==================================

you were in kk’s room with paige, ice, and kk (obviously). kk was on live and you were off screen so nobody knew you were there. “i’ll be right back.” you told them as you got up to go get a water bottle, “okay.” ice replied for everyone. the moment you left you heard kk and paige arguing over if they told the live that you were there or not, you heard a slap then one of them yelling in pain.

while you were getting the water you heard the dorm door open and azzi and nika walked in, “hi y/n!” azzi said what walking up to you and hugging you. “hi.” you replied back while hugging her, “how’s the baby?” she asked while putting her hand on your stomach. “heavy,”you told her honestly, “only 3 more months of this until he’s born.” you sighed, thinking about how cute the baby boy would be. “well i’m gonna go shower, bye.” azzi said as she walk away.

you walked back into kk’s room, as soon as you walked in you seen the comments go crazy. “finally.” kk says as you go back to where you were, “why don’t you come sit over here?” ice questioned. “if i sit on the floor im not getting back up and one of you will have to pick me up.” you answered, “okay? you act like we cant pick you up.” paige argued, “this baby bump makes me like 15 to 20 pounds heavier.” you argued back. paige got off of chair and picked you up and put you in her seat, sitting on the floor next to you. “see now they can see you.” paige says with her head on your left thigh. the comments were talking about how cute you two were and asking about the baby. you were happily answering them and paige would butt in sometimes.

-

you guys had moved to the living room with other teammates, going live on ice’s phone because kk’s died. you were all doing the same thing as before, making fun of each other, arguing (mostly kk and paige), and reading comments.

“can y/n give us a bump reveal?” one of the comments read.

“give the people what they want.” azzi said, she was on the couch next to you. you were in between paige and (obviously) azzi, you had your head on paige’s shoulder and her hand was on your stomach. “i can’t get up.” you told her. “why?” aubrey asked, “i’m pregnant.” you said in a ‘are you dumb’ tone, “the best you guys are gonna get right now is me lifting my shirt from here.” you laughed, everyone else laughing with you.

-

paige had went back to your apartment with you instead of staying at her dorm. you were in your bed, laying on your back with paige’a arm thrown over your stomach. “y/n, i love you.” she mumbled, “i love you too.” you whispered back while giving her a peck on the nose.

==================================

yall i lowkey hate this one and sorry it’s short but i hope you guys enjoyed it!! have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

#uconn wbb #uconn huskies #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #pregnancy #fluff #uconn women’s basketball

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

#aita #am i the asshole

[angstysebfan]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Bucky x Plus Size Female Reader Summary: Reader is dating Bucky. Bucky thinks he won the jackpot with the reader, but the reader thinks he can get anyone he wants. A bet then goes a little too far, leaving the reader questioning everything about their relationship.

A/N: Fixed this piece up and changed the story line. Both reader and Bucky are wrong in this one, but I hope you like it anyways. I tend to write toxic relationships because of what I've been through. If you don't like that you can pass by without leaving rude comments. This is my version of therapy. Thanks!

--

You weren’t like the other agents on the team. Where most women in S.H.I.E.L.D or the Avengers are tall, skinny and beautiful. You were short, overweight, and in your opinion “ehh” in the looks department. Though you looked overweight, you were strong as all hell. You always felt like you didn’t belong, but the team always told you did. Especially Bucky.

When Bucky Barnes admitted his feelings for you, you had a hard time believing him. He's proven that his feelings are real, but one thing you think he's lying about is how lucky he says he is that you finally said yes to being his. It's a conversation that comes up several times and you keep saying the same thing.

"Buck, one sexy smirk toward a woman and they would be putty in your hands. I'm the one who should thank whoever brought you to me cause I still don't get what you see."

"Baby, you're the one who could have any man she wants, and you chose me. Trust me, no other woman would ever want me."

You would just roll your eyes and change the subject as it was actually painful to talk about. But one week you had enough and made a bet. A new agent was coming, and you wanted to prove Bucky wrong. You gave him permission, against your better judgement, to flirt. If she turned him down you would admit defeat, but if you won, he owed you a weekend away together.

Then the new female agent, Stacy, joined, and she was gorgeous! Beautiful light brown hair that looked so soft to the touch, blue eyes that drew you in, and a body you would die for. When you and Bucky walked in hand-in-hand to meet her, you couldn’t help but notice Bucky’s reaction to her. You shook it off because you couldn’t deny her beauty either.

"Remember the deal babe," you said quietly, suddenly regretting your choice. He nodded silently and kissed your forehead.

You didn't know this, but he was also regretting this bet. When Stacy was introduced to the team, you automatically noticed her eyes lingered on Bucky a lot longer than anyone else.

Steve brought her down the line to meet everyone one by one, and when she walked up to you, you extended your hand, “Nice to meet you Stacy. Looking forward to working with you.”

She looked at your hand for a moment and then said to Steve, “I thought I was meeting agents.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up and nodded, “Yes, Y/N here is one of our best. She is one mission away from becoming a full fledge Avenger.”

You smiled at him as she looked back at you, an unreadable expression on her face. “Huh, well, we'll see about that.”

She walked past you to Bucky without shaking your hand. You were honestly shocked by her rudeness. You watch her interact with Bucky and see the flirty fluttering of her eyelashes.

Bucky turned on the charm, which you had to admit, hurt you more than you realized it would.

“Sergeant Barnes, I am looking forward to learning a lot from you,” she said in a sultry voice.

Bucky flushed, understanding her meaning. “Uh, yea anytime dollface,” he said.

Your eyes shot to his face. “Doll” was your nickname. You looked from him to Steve, who just gave you a sympathetic smile.

When intros were done, it was time for dinner. Stacy made sure she sat right next to Bucky, which drove you nuts. Bucky didn’t even spare you a glance when you were forced to sit on the other end of the table. It was like he didn’t even notice you. Not that you blamed him, Stacy did take all the attention in the room. Why did you make this damn bet?

You started feeling very low and self conscious, excusing yourself from the table. You entered your room and quickly went into the shower. You couldn’t help but let some tears fall, thinking you were not good enough for Bucky. Stacy was the type of woman he should be with, not you.

While lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice Bucky entering the shower with you, until you feel his arms around you. You immediately tense when you feel him, feeling the tears fall harder. 

“Doll? You okay?” he asked concerned. You cried harder, holding your face in your hands. Bucky turned you around and held you close, kissing the top of your head.

When you finally calmed down and looked up at Bucky, who had a concerned and sad expression on his face. You step away from him and leave the shower. 

“Y/N?” he called after you. When he made it out to the room in a towel, you were changing into sweats and one of his hoodies. “Baby, please tell me whats wrong?” he pleads.

You look at him with a mix of sadness and anger. “I’m shocked you even noticed I left the table,” you spat.

Bucky is shocked by your words, “What do you mean?” he whispers.

You scoff, “I give you permission to flirt with one woman, and you suddenly forget that you have a girlfriend. Not that I blame you! She's gorgeous, and I’m…” you stop yourself before you sob. 

“Doll, -” “Don’t! Obviously I am not your “Doll” if you are so okay with calling her that!” you screamed.

Bucky shakes his head, putting his hands through his hair. “I don’t understand what's wrong! You told me to do this! I'm sorry I called her “Doll”. Honestly, it meant nothing!” he yelled getting frustrated.

You ignore him and walk to your bed, pulling the covers up to your neck.

“Fine, talk to me when you’re not acting like this.”

You hear Bucky mumble, before you hear the door to your room close. You lie there for a moment, before you decide that you needed to fix this. He was right. This was your idea, just because you couldn't handle it doesn't make it his fault. Though he's a dumbass for calling her "doll". You get up and open your door, walking next door to Bucky’s room. When you open the door you gasp.

Stacy's in Bucky’s room, sliding her hands up his bare chest and reaching up to kiss him, and whats worse is he is standing there holding her hips in only his towel. Tears completely flood your eyes and you leave the room without you noticing. 

–

When Bucky returned to him room after your outburst he opened his door and saw Stacy standing there. 

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, annoyed.

Stacy looks at him with innocent eyes, “I just wanted to thank you for being so nice tonight. I know I was asking a lot of questions during dinner.”

He gives her a small smile, “No problem, but if you don’t mind, I want to be alone.” he said.

“Where are you coming from in only a towel anyway,” she asked, ignoring his last comment, and stepping closer to him. “uh… my girlfriend’s room.” he stuttered, feeling uncomfortable. 

“You have a girlfriend? Who? Does she know you were flirting with me?” she asked in surprise. “Y-Y/N, my girlfriend is Y/N,” he says feeling nervous.

Stacy laughed for a moment, confusing Bucky, “You’re kidding right?” she asked. 

“No, I am dating Y/N. Have been for over three months. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression tonight, but I'm taken,” he said, taking a step back.

“Oh? Well, if you are flirting with me then you must be unhappy. I can make you feel better,” she said stepping closer, sliding her hands up his bare chest.

Bucky froze for a moment, holding onto Stacy’s waist to stop her coming closer. He felt very uncomfortable since he was only in a towel. She started to lean in toward his face. Finally he came to his senses and pushed her away. 

“Agent, this is unacceptable behavior. I know I gave you an impression tonight and that's my fault but I just told you I'm taken. Get out of my room, now” Bucky barked at Stacy.

Stacy was shocked, but didn’t want to push him any further and ran out of the room. Bucky closed the door behind her wiping his face with his flesh hand. He quickly got dressed and went back to your room, wanting to apologize for everything. When he knocked there was no answer. He opened your door and came in.

“Baby?” he called walking further into the room. He checked the walk in closet and then the bathroom, nothing. When he came back into the room, he saw a piece of paper on the bed. He opened it and his heart immediately dropped.

Bucky,

I guess based on what I saw, I am not as crazy as I thought. Though I must be crazy to think someone who looks like me, would be loved by someone who looks like you. I hope you both are very happy together. 

Your Y/N

Bucky quickly ran out of the room and went to Steve’s. He explained everything that happened, which caused some scolding from Steve. 

“I mean I can’t believe you were nice to her after the comment she made about Y/N when she met her,” Steve said. Bucky shook his head, “I know. I’m a fucking moron, okay? But Y/N wanted to do this bet and it went too far. Please you have to help me find my girl. I need her to know that I…” he stopped.

“You love her,” Steve said smirking.

Bucky nodded and blew out a breath. “Please, Steve. I can’t let her think that I don’t love her. I knew she was self conscious, I should have made sure she was alright,” Bucky said kicking himself.

“Okay, pal. Relax, we will find her. Let’s ask the girls first.” Steve said leading Bucky out of his room.

–

“Ok so you saw Y/N was upset and yelled at her instead of comforting her? You're an asshole, Barnes," Nat yelled at him.

“Yea, I know that already. Please Nat, I need to find her,” Bucky pleaded.

“Plus that was mean to do to Stacy, but she still shouldn't have been an bitch to Y/N," She says angrily. "I don’t know where she is, but, if you got your head out of your asses and think you'll find her faster,” she snapped.

Both men looked confused, causing her to roll her eyes. “Men are morons! FRIDAY please track Y/N and send her coordinates to Barnes and Rogers STAT!” she yelled to the AI. 

The men nodded their thanks and headed out.

Nat watched them leave and then called to the AI. “FRIDAY where is Stacy?”

–

You sat on a bench in Battery Park, staring out into the water. You honestly weren’t sure where you were going to go from here. A part of you wanted to go back to the Tower, but didn’t want to see Bucky or Stacy. You figured by now they were lying naked in his bed together. The image making you want to puke.

“Y/N” a whispered voice said, making you jump.

You turn and see Bucky standing there, relief evident in his face. “Baby, I have been looking everywhere for you.” 

He sits down on the bench next to you, and you immediately tensed, something he noticed. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, “Y/N, I swear, whatever you saw, was not what you think. Stacy… she… she tried to kiss me and I froze. I-I didn’t know what to do, until I finally snapped out of it and threw her out of my room. You have to believe me.” he said grabbing your hand. You don’t look at him, knowing that if you did, you would crack.

“Why would you want to throw her out? She's perfect for you Bucky. You’re perfect for each other. She knows it, I know it, you must know it.” you say quietly, your voice threatening to crack. "This bet was stupid because it proved how right I really was."

Bucky kneels in front of you, holding your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“Belles, she is not perfect for me? Is she beautiful? Sure, but you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life. I know you're self conscious about your weight and your body, but baby I love your body and I couldn’t care less about your weight because it doesn't matter. You're a strong woman who could kick anyone's ass. I…”

Bucky takes a breath and calm his nerves. “Y/N, I love you,” he says with confidence.

You look at him for a moment and then shake your head. “How can you love someone like me?” you whisper as tears flow down your face.

Bucky stands up and pulls you into his arms. “You're so amazing to me. You don’t care about my past. You only care about who I am now. And as far as how you look, you’re so fucking sexy to me baby! I grew up in a time where our woman had meat on their bones, and that's what I prefer.” he said causing you to laugh.

“Buck, I love you. I love you so much! You mean the world to me, and that's why I was so upset you ignored me tonight. I thought that you finally found someone else that you wouldn’t be embarrassed with. It's my fault for making this stupid bet,” you said. 

“I’m an idiot for tonight. I didn’t realize that I was ignoring you, and I’m so sorry. I should have defended you when she was rude to you, and ignored her. Screw the bet. We were both idiots about that, it wasn't fair to Stacy, even if she is a bitch. However, I do still owe you a weekend getaway, and I promise I will be cold to her from now on,” he said kissing the top of your head. “And you, my love, will never embarrass me.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing in your chest. He leaned down and captured your lips with his. You stepped as close as you could, wrapping your arms tightly around him. When the kiss ended you whispered against his lips, “I love you.”

He smiled and pecked your lips again, “I love you too.”

--

Hope you liked it.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky angst #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #Bucky x plus sized reader #plus sized #bucky x oc female

[ihatelifesm]

Can you do all the fatui their react to that y/n was hiding traumatised past and that blaming them self and hide it all , and of course they comfort y/n beaxuse they always help the fauti with their problems

(Okie dokie! Coming right up!)

You are mine and I am yours

Pierro

•He probably found out if you told him upfront or he found you crying someplace

•when he told you spit it out he was shocked it would’ve been torture to go through that

•even if he might not be the best he would try everything that he has to make you feel better

•If it you were dating he would hold you close by your waist whispering nothing but sweetness in your ears

•If platonic he would make you a cup of tea or your favorite dish letting you cry on his shoulder

“Everything is alright dear..”

Capitano

•He would know somethings wrong when you started acting distant, maybe slightly sloppy on missions, more sleepy

•If he saw you crying he would quickly ask whats wrong his mask covering his slight worried expression

•If Romantic he would pull you close wrapping you in his coat with him sitting on his lap or just standing with him

•If Platonic he would take you for a walk maybe get you ice cream or something to eat after to make you feel better making sure to check in with you time to time

“You should’ve told me sooner.”

Dottore

•So you guys had little meet ups when your not with the other harbingers but if you miss that meet up he would go find you himself

•If he saw you in your room he would tilt your chin up as you tell him everything

•If romantic he would stay with you laying your head in his lap while doing his paperwork

•If Platonic he would hug you just really that patting your back soothing you slowly

(Your gonna have to know him for a really ling time for him to act like this towards you)

“Your foolish for not saying anything”

Columbina

•If you two were by each other sides alot she would quickly notice your different personality she would confront you

•When you tell her either platonic or romantic she would sing you a soft lullaby with your head on her lap as she would just caress your cheek softly

“Poor little you why didnt you say anything?”

Arlecchino

•Arlecchini works with kids so its noticed rather quickly

•It doesnt just go away lightly Alrecchibo sits and talks to you

•Romantic she would hold you on her lap letting you talk

•Platonic she would make your favorite food or drink

“You know I care..”

Punichella

I think I spelt his name wrong

• I dont really know how to write for him so ill try my best

•He is kinda like the cool grandpa that gives you good advice so im not going ti do a romantic for him

•He would make you tae and sit and chat with you letting you cry on his shoulder

Scaramouche

•Hes more colder than the others but if your with him most of the time hes going to notice

•When he finds out he would make you speak trying to get every single thing off of your chest, If romantic he would sit and cuddle you, kicking out anyone else that comes in

•A little same with Platonic hut your just next to him holding his hand tightly

“Idiot..”

Sandrone

•Again with her going in depth is a little hard for me but anyways!!!

•She would confront you immediately asking you questions about it

•Both romantic or Platonic she would carry you with her on her robot holding your hard caressing the back of your hand with her thumb softly

“Quite stupid to not say something..”

La Signora

•She loves you lots Platonic or Romantic

•she knows what pain feels like same with Scaramouche

•Either Platonic or romantic she would play with your hair brushing it out, doing different styles, adding accessories anything just to clam you down

“Your hair is tangled”

Pantalone

•So when he found out he would be worried for you

•He would ask you to tell him every single thing you like to tell him

•Both Romanic and Platonic he would take you shopping, spoiling your rotten only difference if romantic he would also take you on dates aswell

“Pick anything you like darling..”

Tartaglia

•He has siblings so he also notices quite quickly so he would find you as soon as possible to sit you down to have a chat

•He would cuddle you for maybe more than a hour as you talk patting your back, caressing your hair

•He would spoil you aswell and if romantic he would take you on dates aswell!!

(Finished!! This was fun but also pretty hard to write but i uope u enjoyed!)

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #fatui #fatui x reader #pearlsrequests #genshin pierro #pierro x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #capitano x reader #capitano #columbina #columbina x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #pantalone #pantalone x reader #la signora x reader #la signora #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #sandrone x reader #sandrone

[whateveryouwant90]

The one that got away

Listen, i don't really know what this is, i just had the idea and wrote it so feels free to tell me if you like it or if you think it’s shit.

Art Donaldson x fem!reader but also kind of Patrick Zweig x fem!Reader

As Art's gaze fell upon Tashi for the first time, it was as if the universe had conspired to shift its entire focus onto her. At that moment, all else faded into insignificance, eclipsed by the radiance of her presence. Tashi became the sun around which his world orbited, and everyone else merely became distant planets, revolving in the outskirts of his newfound obsession.

His girlfriend, once the center of his affection, now found herself relegated to the shadows, cast aside in the wake of Art's infatuation with Tashi. Her voice became a mere whisper amidst the clamor of his thoughts, her touch a fleeting memory that paled in comparison to the allure of Tashi's magnetic pull. He found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the gravitational force that tugged at his heartstrings.

And as the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Art's obsession with Tashi only grew stronger, blinding him to the collateral damage left in its wake. His girlfriend, once his pillar of support, now stood on the sidelines, a silent witness to the unraveling of their relationship in the face of Art's unrelenting fixation.

Art remained oblivious to the pain he caused, his focus solely fixated on Tashi and the intoxicating allure she held over him. And as he spiraled deeper into the depths of his obsession, Y/n started seeing things as they were. She stayed in the relationship for months hoping that her sweet boyfriend would come back to her, but their conversation was starting to become shorter and duller and only about how amazing Tashi was. 

Today, like every day, she was debating on when was going to put herself first and break up with him. She was sitting behind a tree at the Standford campus reading one of her favorite books but couldn't concentrate thinking about how and when was the right time to finish her tormentus relationship with Art. Caught up in her own thoughts she missed her friend calling out for her.

"Hey, y/n/n! What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?" Patricks says coming closer and giving her a kiss on the forehead before sitting down next to her on the grass.

Y/n blinked, momentarily pulled from the swirling vortex of her thoughts by Patrick's familiar voice. She forced a small smile, grateful for the distraction his presence provided.

"Hey, Patrick! Oh my gosh what are you doing here?" she greeted, the weight of her impending decision heavy in her chest but slightly lighter now that her friend is back from his tour.

"I came here to see you guys. Plus I'm not gonna lie I miss my girlfriend" He says with that signature smirk of his. "Now, are you gonna tell me what got you so zoned out?".

 "Just... thinking about stuff, you know?" You answered not knowing if you wanted to talk to Patrick about the whole Art and Tashi situation again.

Patrick settled comfortably beside her, his warm presence a comforting anchor in the storm of her emotions. "Anything you want to talk about?" he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

Y/n hesitated, unsure if she was ready to vocalize the turmoil brewing within her heart. But as she looked into Patrick's kind eyes, she found herself opening up, the words tumbling out in a rush.

"It's Art," she confessed, the name heavy on her tongue. "He's... he's so caught up in this obsession with Tashi, and I don't know what to do anymore. I've tried to be patient, to wait for him to come back to me, but it's like I'm invisible to him now."

Patrick listened attentively, his brow furrowing in sympathy as he absorbed her words. "Y/n, you deserve so much more than someone who can't see your worth," he said gently, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "You're strong, you're beautiful, and you deserve to be with someone who sees that."

Tears welled in Y/n's eyes, her heart aching with the truth of Patrick's words. For months, she had clung to the hope that Art would come back to her, but deep down, she knew that it was time to let go.

"Thank you, Pat." She says grabbing his cheek and giving him her classic sweet smile.

"Of course beautiful" He responds feeling sorry for his friend. "I'm gonna go find Tashi but I'll see you after the match?".

"Sure, but I think I'm going to talk to Art after it, so I'll text you when I'm done," she replied, gathering her belongings and heading to her next class, unaware of what lay ahead.

After a rather unproductive class, she checked her phone and saw missed calls from Patrick and seven text messages detailing his fallout with Tashi. Despite wanting to help her friend and let him unwind, she decided to find Art first and collect her thoughts.

She arrived at Tashi's match, expecting to see Art cheering as usual, only to find no one there. Concerned, she inquired about Tashi's absence, her empathy for the girl overcoming any envy. As she walked through the tunnels, she witnessed Patrick's desperate plea to Tashi, met with rejection. Then, her boyfriend's unexpected outburst towards Patrick echoed through the corridor, a stark reminder of his protective instincts.

Scared to intervene, she observed Art's worry for Tashi, feeling a pang of familiarity in his concern. Despite the situation not involving her directly, she felt drawn to him, his presence stirring conflicting emotions within her.

Summoning her courage, she approached him slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hey, Art," she began tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can we talk?"

As Tashi and Art both turned to look her way, Art excused himself from Tashi's side and made his way over to Y/n, seamlessly intertwining their hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Hey babe, what's up?" Art greeted, his tone casual despite the weight of the impending conversation.

Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. "Art, I know this might not be the best moment, but... it never really is, is it?" she started, her gaze drifting downwards to avoid the intensity of his piercing blue eyes. "I love you more than words can express, but... I can't ignore the obvious anymore."

Art's brows furrowed in confusion, but Y/n pressed on, her words tumbling out in a rush. "You're in love with Tashi, Art. And that's okay, but... I can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not. I can't watch you pine for another woman right in front of me, hoping for scraps of attention. It's not fair to either of us."

"Babe, wait, I-" Art attempted to interject, but Y/n held up a hand, silencing him.

"Please, let me finish," she pleaded softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "If you really love me, you'll let me go. I... I can't keep doing this to myself. I deserve better, and so do you. I'm sorry it didn't work out, Art. I truly am. But... I have to do what's best for me." With that, Y/n leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Art's cheek before turning away, leaving him speechless and rooted to the spot.

She found her best friend waiting for her outside, mirroring her own state of heartache. Together, they offered each other solace and support as they walked away, leaving behind a chapter of their lives that had come to a bittersweet end. But in that ending, they found the strength to begin anew, embracing the promise of brighter tomorrows.

I can't keep watching you fall, for another woman right in front of my eyes. So if you really love me, you will let me go. I'm sorry this didn't work out, I wish you the best, and take care". Y/n left him speechless, so much so that he couldn't even move. She kissed him on the cheeks and walked off finding her best friend outside in the same state as her. Together they left and supported each other.

#art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers imagine #challengers drabble #Art donaldson imagine

[buckttommy]

please talk more about bucktommy I love when you talk about them

with pleasure. i need the serotonin.

the first time tommy spends the night, he cooks buck breakfast in bed. somehow buck sleeps through the entire cooking process which is remarkable considering tommy is loud as fuck as he searches for bowls and pans. but anyway. buck wakes up to french toast with syrup and powdered sugar, bacon, and diced fruit and he does NOT get misty eyed but it is a close thing.

tommy gets quiet sometimes, but especially on the day of his dad's death anniversary. i hc that tommy is a bit of an isolationist. when things get bad or sad in his head, he retreats to his little bubble and puts himself back together. buck is clingy, so it takes him a while to adjust to the fact that sometimes his boyfriend doesn't want to be touched/bothered but once he gets the hang of it, it's smooth sailing. he's learned the Warning Signs for when tommy gets in these particular headspaces, but it's easier when he knows they're coming. so on the anniversary of tommy's dad's death, buck kisses him goodbye when he goes to work, texts him little things that don't demand a reply throughout the day, and just waits for tommy to come to him again. he always does, usually the next day, and he hugs buck tight. sometimes they have sex, sometimes they don't. either way, they spend the day after his Bad Day just reconnecting. catching up on conversations and satiating their skin hunger. buck swears he can't possibly love this man anymore than he already does, but when he has tommy in his arms after a bad day has passed and he's still kind of quiet but cling, he's always proven wrong.

tommy is a shit dancer, like. just. absolutely abysmal. everything they say about white people dancing is true. rhythm could slap him in the face and he still wouldn't know it. buck, on the other hand... well. he's actually not that much better, tbh, but he did spend some time in peru being mother hen'd by an abuela who didn't speak a lick of english (my personal hc) so he knows how to move his hips a lil. all this to say, one day buck puts on some music and tommy is like uhh what are you doing. and buck is like "what, i have to pay you for those flying lessons somehow. get up, old man, we're dancing." and like. tommy... there's no fixing him, i'm afraid, but goddamnit if buck doesn't try. dancing together usually ends in kissing and laughing into each other's mouths, but neither of them would have it any other way

when buck's paternal grandma dies, he needs to go back home to pennsylvania. he's fully expecting to book a plane ticket and see his boyfriend in a couple days but tommy's like "hey no i'm coming with you," and buck is like, "nah, it's okay. really. i'll be there and back in an instant, it's not like i was that close to her" but tommy's just like, "how close you were doesn't matter. she was still your grandma. and your family may need you, but you're still my priority. so i'm coming with" and like. how is buck supposed to argue with that? maddie and chimney tag along and they make a big roadtrip of it. it's fucking ridiculous and extra and silly but there's good music and laughter and the license plate game and tommy holds his hand when buck reaches for him and, you know. maybe going to pennsylvania isn't so bad if all the trips are like this.

i have this headcanon that buck and tommy are physically codependent and extremely tactile in that they just love being around and touching each other. all this to say that, when either one of them is injured / in hospital, they can often be found holding each other in the hospital bed. when buck has a TBI and is unconscious, tommy cradles him close and kisses the top of his head. when tommy is burned in a fire, buck lets him bury his face in his neck to escape the pain. no thoughts head empty, just clingy touchy cuddly beautiful boyfriends

#otp: eye of the storm #tv: 911 #jack answers mail

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

remember how charlie started dating her gf back when she thought vaggie was a sinner who'd earned a place in hell, and then she found out the gf used to be a murder angel and got angry / hurt bc SHE tells vaggie everything so why didn't vaggie trust her with the angel thing??? does vaggie not really LOVE her????? oh yeah and murder bad too whatever- OH WAIT SO VAGGIE /DOES/ LOVE HER!? fuck yeah who cares about murder! the angel gf's wings are hot and charlie Will Hug Her

what im saying is... charlie doesn't just TALK about the fluffy vague idea of redemption

she's been living it this whole time

we see her CHOOSE to stay with vaggie even after having the exact terrible bad things vaggie did shoved in her face. there's no "she's just naive" excuse here

she knows. her kindness and hope doesn't come from a LACK of knowing how bad things or people can be

but that was vaggie's past. charlie talks about a breach of trust, of vaggie not trusting her with the truth, of the fear that other things between them hadn't been true too- Those are all PRESENT vaggie issues. they're all questions about the woman vaggie is NOW, and what kind of relationship charlie has with her, today

even charlie's line wondering if vaggie would've told her about an angel's weakness- it's not, "oh you're still one of them", it's "now i know there was something else important that you didn't tell me"

it's so quiet. that kind of, amazing moment. where charlie just unravels the whole idea of sin and flicks it away, like a speck of dust

being reminded of how many ways vaggie SHOWS who she is and who CHARLIE is to her, that settles charlie, answers all her worries and questions (she can trust vaggie) (vaggie is in this with her no matter what)- because none of them, those fears and pains, were about what vaggie had been

that's how the hotel can work. it's built on something REALLY strong- it's built on charlie honestly meaning what she says, and vaggie truly actively being her partner in it

we can't SEE that happening without looking at THEM

(we see people not taking them, or charlie, seriously- and getting fucked up when they Find Out)

them being and staying together is proof that the hotel can work, that angels can sin and seek redemption, that people- even sinners- can change

and when they change there'll be at least one place where they can BE that new person

at the hazbin hotel

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #too manny thoguhts #you don't understand #how much i love charlie #how punishment or revenge is never part of her idea of justice #she just wants #things to be BETTER #because she knows they're bad right now #and believes they don't HAVE to be #and she's right #her and vaggie #and their hotel- how it ended up feeling like HOME to their friends- a space that's safe and THEIRS and worth fighting for #shows just how right she is

[theaverageptncasualenjoyer]

"We're not even dating." "But you belong to me." Shalom (Fem MBCC intel officer)

An: I'm back 🥳 But, only for a quick while before I have think about the romance department more... 🤢🤮 This'll be angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, lowkey toxic shalom, and suggestive themes, mentions of sex...

It started out as a one night stand, then turned into something more... Honestly, I don't know what came over me, thinking this was a good idea... But, there was no turning back once I caved, and asked for more... I'll always end up waking to no one by my side. Perhaps I enjoy the pain that comes after pleasure, which I shouldn't be. I felt sick, though I never tire of seeking her warmth. She is no saint although I'll gladly become a sinner just for her to look my way. But of course, she'll always look at her damn bodyguard's way... What does she have that I don't? I may be powerless, but I'm the one who's with her at nights like these... For her desire of flesh, I am the one who satiate her needs... Still, I end up losing to a woman who does not engage in such affairs. Shalom had told me once, while I lay underneath her, that her bodyguard has no interest in regards to mindless sex. She once attempted to seduce her, but to no avail, her bodyguard does not indulge. We're not lovers, so why must I feel this way...? It feels so wrong, but at the same time right to possess such feelings... I am fully aware about having no right to behave in a manner. But I can't help it. She disappears in my life, only to come back after weeks or even months without contact. My body has been drained, and my love had diminished. Like a candle lit flame that had been burning for too long, it's flames have extinguished after it's overuse. Perhaps it is time for me to move on. A week after her disappearance, I started working as an intelligence officer at the MBCC. Little did I know that she would soon enter my life again after 4 months of working as an intelligence officer. I moved places, to a new apartment near my workplace. I managed to fix myself, slowly. I don't think about her too much. After all, I ended up having a small crush on Matilda. There was just something about her that had me catching feelings for the sinner, maybe it was that side of hers that only a few had known, her caring nature, her ability to observe others in a way that she is able to tell when a person is troubled, and how she ensures that I am safe and protected. She and I grew closer over the past few months. I saw Shalom and the bodyguard that she would mention during our intimacy... This time, I didn't feel some sort of envy towards her bodyguard. Only contentment as I met eyes with Matilda next to Shalom, walking towards me as I greet her warmly. Shalom didn't like the interaction. My eyes softened, as I went somewhere with Matilda. Shalom couldn't resist asking the chief as to what was my relationship with Matilda, to which the chief responds, "The two of them are close friends. Though, it could be something more." The chief paused, and then continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if they ended up together." The chief concludes with an amused chuckle. Shalom did not appreciate that. I was now currently on break, lounging around in the breakroom. Waiting for coffee to brew. I didn't notice Shalom entering the room, eyes immediately locked onto my figure, as I unknowingly hum and waited for my coffee. She then spoke up, causing me to freeze up, unable to turn around and face her. "So, you and the councilor's niece, huh..." I grimace, not wanting to have this conversation. "...What do you want now, Shalom?" Her eyes narrowed, not liking the way I wasn't interested in a conversation with her at all. "I left for months, and you suddenly have some other woman to play around with?" I didn't like the way she was talking to Matilda like that, so I responded, "Play around? Is that all you think about?" my voiced laced with venom. "Oh, how sweet. Her knight and shining armor had come to defend her. Do you want a reward?" Her tone was sarcastic. I ignored her reply, choosing to focus on getting my coffee instead of entertaining her. That was all I was to her, anyways. A joke. To be played around with. I'm not even surprised at all.

"Don't ignore me, dear." She hissed, approaching me. I quickly grabbed my cup, and side stepped. "..." I walked past her, shocking her as I went outside. Without a word. She quickly catch up to me, grabbing my wrist. "I am not done talking to you." "But I am. Matilda's waiting for me." Her eyes darkened. "Matilda this, Matilda that. When will you quit the charades? You're doing this to make me jealous." I can feel the jealousy on her words, causing me to blink slowly. "...Excuse me? Do you really think I hang out with Matilda just because I want to waste time making you feel that way? Gross." I say, disgusted before pulling my hand away from her grasp. I looked her up and down. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but don't ever talk to me again." I then went ahead. Making shalom clench her coat sleeve... Don't come back to my life suddenly and act all possessive towards me. We're not even lovers, so why act that way? I thought grimly as I met up with Matilda. Matilda was now someone who I trust with my secrets. She knew about me and Shalom, it made her angry and more protective of me whenever Shalom visits the MBCC. Shalom didn't help at all by increasing the tension, taunting Matilda; She paid no mind to the bait that Shalom obviously presented to her. She grew more and more jealous at the relationship between me and Matilda, without knowing that me and her were just friends. I realized that Matilda felt more of a sister to me, rather than someone who I like in a romantic way, Matilda expressed the same feeling as well. One night, Shalom couldn't take it anymore. She had enough of seeing my closeness with Matilda. The lingering stares, touches, and the secrecy of words being whispered to one another's ear had plagued Shalom's mind all day. She had to stop this madness before her mania level will consume her... Meanwhile, I was busy in my office trying to connect the dots about the incident earlier that had happened outside of the MBCC's building. I heard the door swung open, and had expected it to be the chief. I was wrong. It was Shalom. After seeing who it was, I closed my eyes and heaved a deep sigh. I didn't want to deal with her, but I have to. It must be something important. "Do you require assistance, miss Shalom?" My voice held a professional tone to it, as I paused reading the files. "No, but I have something that I wanted to talk about." Making me nod stiffly. "...Alright." I looked at her with nothingness, making her feel... Odd about the look. "...Do you feel nothing towards me now?" She starts, as she met my gaze with a hint of sadness. "...Hm." I answered it vaguely, unable to comprehend why the question all of the sudden. She sits on my desk, papers long forgotten as she made herself comfortable. "What happened to the nights that we once shared together? Do you not miss it?" It took me a while to process it. "I mean... It's been months. I've been busy, you're busy as well." Her hand made its way to my chin, cupping it. "Don't you... Miss me?" Her voice, velvety, it almost made me shiver, if not for the fact that I just felt uncomfortable right now. "Um, not really?" My voice was uncertain, unable to determine if I indeed missed her at all. Making her frown. "What does Matilda have that I don't? Why is she so special to you?" Making me confused. Is she saying that Matilda is my girlfriend...? A baffled look made its way to my face, making her question me. "...You did not think I would notice, didn't you." As if stating a fact. I awkwardly replied, "We're close friends..." Her eyes had soften for a bit, but then narrowed. "You're kidding. You are together." "We're not." I state calmly. "I've seen the way you look at her. It's unnerving."

A shadow had crowded over Shalom's eyes. I sighed, explaining further about my relationship with Matilda. After explaining it for a bit, she seemed to have lighten up. "There. Now, do you get it?" She nods. "Yes. Now, I can do this..." She suddenly grabbed my collar and pulled me towards her. Making the space nonexistent between us. My breath hitched, heat immediately crept up to my face. Shalom took notice. "Ah, there it is. How I've missed that look." She cooed, making me jerk backwards and her grip loosening due to the sudden reaction. "Don't do this to me, Shalom." I hissed, upset at her actions. She then looked hurt. "What's wrong? Do you not perhaps want to continue our relationship?" I swiftly got out of my desk and made my way to the door. "Oh, no. I am not about to enter in that relationship again. I'm leaving." Her hand had grasped my wrist that was already twisting the door knob, in swift movement. "Tell me, what's wrong..." "Everything is! This whole thing started as an accident and ended with an MISTAKE! Shalom, god... I don't know how you are able to do this with a straight face, but I can't do this anymore. I want out." She then glared at me and responded. "It wasn't a mistake, tell me you didn't just say that now." Making me more irritable at the response. "What? Do you want me to pretend that it wasn't? Because it was! So stop!" She then cupped my face. "It wasn't to me. It might've started that way, but I ended up falling for you." Making me look at her in shock. "No, you're only saying that because you just want the sex." I hated sounding like I was hurt over this, when I know damn well when it was supposed to be that way anyways. "Why does it matter to you so much?" I sound distressed, pushing her away from me with much force. "We're not even dating." Shalom's next actions and words had caught me off guard. "But you belong to me." Her hand found it's way to my waist, pulling me towards her body once more. "Can't you see, that I feel strongly about you dear?" Her voice murmured against my collarbone. Teeth nipping at it, as I fail to conceal my voice. "I don't want anyone else but me to be near you, to have you, and to love you this way..." She possessively said, cupping my cheek with her free hand and tracing her thumb on my face, rubbing circles. "I'm obsessed with you, the reason why I am not able to return right away... Was because of how addicted I was from your warmth. It wasn't just the sex. I promise..." She soothes me by sucking on my neck, leaving a trail of marks as she worked her way up to my lips. "I love you. I want you to be mine, to belong to me... Darling." She whispered in my lips. I let her devour me. Whole. "You're mine. I don't intend to share you or settle for second best. No one compares to you." She declared. I whimpered. "What about your bodyguard? Didn't you lust for her as well...?" She smirks, unzipping my skirt and tracing my underwear. "Oh, her? I only said that to make you jealous. I wanted you to act possessive of me. But it backfired." She explained, but not before harshly tugging down my skirt, tearing off my blouse. "All of these... Are for my eyes only. I regret teasing you. Allow me to make up for it..." She then harshly palmed my breast while my bra was on. Her fingers danced around my inner thigh...

#path to nowhere x reader #ptn x reader #path to nowhere #shalom x reader #ptn shalom #ptn shalom x reader #path to nowhere shalom x reader #ptn

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 7]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige starts to realize what being in love with azzi is like

a/n: some fluff to prepare for the angst that is the next chapter

word count: 1.6k

masterlist w/ all parts

Paige hadn’t known why she’d called Azzi’s name. Why her first instinct when the fiery hot pain had ricocheted up her left leg and spread to every cell in her body, when she’d crumpled to the floor, was Azzi. But when the dark haired girl had come running, had held her head in her hands, had tried to look brave despite the fear swimming in her eyes, Paige had realized why.

—————-

Trying to balance the two cups of coffee and the bag of donuts, Azzi kicked the door to Paige’s hospital room open. To her surprise, when she looked up, there was a throng of people surrounding the bed. Some she recognized as Paige’s family; her little brother, Drew, was playing on a Nintendo in the corner of the room. There were some girls her age, too, holding flowers and cards, repeating their sympathies to a tired Paige in bed.

Azzi suddenly felt out of place. What was she doing here? She chastised herself for not texting or calling Paige before she’d come. Of course Paige’s closest family and friends would be here to support her, and she’d stupidly shown up. They weren’t even actually dating, or friends at that. It probably didn’t mean anything that she’d comforted Paige last night, whispering reassurances into her ear until she’d gone to the hospital. Azzi had been the only one there, so of course Paige had accepted her presence. And now she probably wanted to be alone with the people she actually cared about.

So Azzi quietly set the donuts and the coffee on one of the side tables, hoping no one would see her as she slowly retreated out.

But just her luck, she heard a deep voice call out her name. “Azzi!” Biting her lip, she turned around slowly. She steeled herself for Paige to question her for coming, to laugh at her for even thinking that her presence was wanted. But Paige smiled, that bright smile with the crinkle in her eyes, and Azzi felt warm all over.

“Everyone, this is Azzi, my girlfriend. She plays for UConn, too.”

This was not how she’d imagined meeting Paige’s parents, but a tall man stepped forth and grabbed her hand, shaking it profusely. “Azzi! I’ve heard so much about you.” Azzi glanced at Paige, wondering what possibly the blonde could’ve said about her. But Paige blushed, avoiding her gaze.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bueckers,” Azzi said politely. Soon Paige’s entire family swarmed to meet her, greeting her with warm hugs and smiles.

“Drew,” Paige called. “Don’t be rude. Come over here.” Drew sighed, but obediently put his Nintendo down and ambled over.

“Hey, buddy.” Azzi bent down and ruffled his hair. “I’m Azzi.”

Drew regarded her suspiciously. “Are you good at basketball?”

“She’s great,” Paige immediately answered for her. Azzi looked up at Paige in surprise, but once again, the blonde looked away before their eyes could meet.

The younger girl focused her attention back on Drew. “Hey, you hungry?” she asked. “I brought some donuts and they’re all yours if you want ‘em.”

Drew’s eyes brightened, and he squealed. Azzi chuckled, grabbing his hand and leading him to the corner of the room. “Don’t be greedy, Drew!” Paige yelled. “Leave some for me!”

For the next hour, Azzi kept Drew entertained while Paige talked in hushed tones to her parents. All the other people slowly filtered out, leaving their gifts scattered throughout the room. Finally, Paige’s parents left the room in order to go grab lunch.

Drew begged to stay, so soon it was only Paige, Azzi, and Drew left in the room. The little boy, hyper from the sugary donuts, went back to play Nintendo, totally absorbed in the little screen.

Azzi suddenly felt awkward, and she swung her hands, not knowing what to say.

“C’mere.” Paige patted the spot on the bed next to her, looking at her with soft eyes.

At first, Azzi carefully sat on the edge of the bed, not wanting to jostle Paige. “I brought coffee, too.” She raised the cups. “But I think they might be cold now.” Paige grinned affectionately, taking the cup from Azzi’s hands and setting it to the side before pulling her in. Azzi rested her head on the older girl’s chest, feeling her heart beat steadily.

“You came,” the older girl said softly so that Drew couldn’t hear.

“Well, it’s basic decency. I’d be a shit teammate if I didn’t visit my captain after an injury like that.”

Paige rested her chin on Azzi’s head. “It’s 7 AM. All the girls are visiting me together at 2 later. They said in the group chat.”

Azzi felt her cheeks flush with pink. “Well, I had to get some food and coffee in you beforehand. Didn’t want you all grumpy and hangry for when the girls came.”

“Okayyy.” Paige teased amusedlt, clearly not believing her. She gently pressed a kiss on Azzi’s hairline, and the younger girl’s heart almost burst with how domestic the whole thing was.

Azzi shifted so that she was now facing the blonde. “What’s the news?” she asked softly.

Paige closed her eyes, leaning her head forward so that their foreheads now touched. “Do we have to talk about that?”

Azzi cupped her cheek with her hand. “Paige.”

The blonde blinked rapidly, trying to fight off her tears. “The results from the MRI haven’t come back yet, but based on the x-ray alone, they’re pretty sure I tore my ACL.”

Azzi opened her mouth, but Paige pressed her thumb against her lips. “I’ve already heard enough sorries today,” she breathed. “Can we just stay like this?”

Azzi reluctantly nodded, leaning back. Paige buried her nose in her hair, breathing in her scent. If she weren’t in the hospital right now, she’d be in bliss. But there was a weight between them, a heavy cloud of things unsaid - both about Paige’s injury, and about their relationship. They knew that this didn’t count as fake dating when the cameras weren’t rolling and no one but Drew was with them in the hospital room. Yet for now they allowed themselves this little moment.

———————

“I brought orange juice, cereal, mac and cheese, and some bread, as requested.” Azzi plopped down the groceries on the counter, before making her way to where Paige was lying on the couch.

“What?” Paige tried to lift herself up from the cushions, but the throbbing pain in her leg forced her back down. “Azzi, are you joking?”

“Hmm?” Azzi played dumb, even though she knew exactly what Paige was talking about. But a little bit of fun messing with the blonde couldn’t hurt, right?

“Az, please don’t tell me you forgot the Tru Fu.” Paige’s voice came out desperate and whiny, but she didn’t have the energy to care. Her whole body ached as if all had ligaments, not just her ACL, had torn, and all she wanted was her favorite snack.

“Oh my god, you wanted Tru Fu?” Azzi gasped with faux horror.

“Azzi!” Paige whined again, and this time the dark haired girl couldn’t keep it in. She burst out laughing, unzipping her jacket to reveal the multiple bags of Tru Fu hidden in the interior of her pockets.

Paige crossed her arms, glaring at her. “That wasn’t fucking funny. You know I don’t play about my Tru Fu.”

“I’m sorry, baby, but I knew you’d get all mad and you’re just so cute when you’re mad.” Paige froze, Azzi’s term of affection spreading heat throughout her body. She suddenly felt a yearning in her heart, a deep desire for Azzi to hold her and call her baby over and over again. But the younger girl seemed oblivious to the effect she was having on Paige, tossing bags upon bags of Tru Fu to the blonde in the couch.

When Paige remained silent, Azzi interpreted it as her still being mad, and she bent down, hovering over her, the ends of her hair brushing Paige’s cheeks.

“Please forgive me, Paige Madison Bueckers.” Azzi’s voice came out all raspy and throaty, and in that moment Paige would’ve forgiven her for anything in the world, even if she’d just committed vehicular manslaughter.

But Paige tamped down the fluttery feeling in her chest. She rolled her eyes and ripped open a bag of the white and milk chocolate strawberries. “You’re not getting any of this,” she grumbled, stuffing her mouth.

“You’re a dork.” Azzi lightly flicked the side of Paige’s head and scampered off to the kitchen to put away the groceries before she could retaliate.

Paige watched Azzi hum as she opened the cabinets and fridge with a familiar ease from having regularly brought Paige her groceries over the last several weeks. At first, Paige had objected, saying that she had Instacart and Ubereats. But Azzi in turn had firmly protested, saying that that was much too expensive. Paige quickly started agreeing when she realized how lonely she got, pent up in her apartment. Azzi dropping off groceries soon became the highlight of her week, especially when she’d started lingering and Paige had worked up the courage to ask her to watch a movie together, and now whenever Azzi came by it became an affair lasting several hours.

Paige knew that she didn’t need this many groceries. By this point, her kitchen was overflowing with goods that the younger girl brought. But she didn’t know how to tell Azzi that she loved hanging out with her, loved the hours they spent, alone in Paige’s apartment, binge watching romcoms and talking about anything and everything. So she continued to send her grocery lists, and Azzi had continued to drop everything she was doing whenever she got a new list from Paige in order to hurry to Target then hurry to her apartment.

When Azzi finished up and plopped down on the couch besides Paige, asking her where they’d last left off in Modern Family, Paige wondered how she’d ever felt anything but love towards a girl like Azzi, who had the brightest smile she’d ever seen.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconnwbb #wcbb #wbb #enemies to lovers

[mssainz]

PART 11 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: some flashbacks, typos

“Okay Sevi, since you won. Who do you wanna sleep with tonight,” Ana asked Cael while fixing his monster trucks.

“I wanna sleep with Mama and Papa in one bed!” Cael said loudly, making everybody stunned. “Uhm baby..” you were about to speak.

“Is that okay Papa?” Cael asked, leaving Carlos not able to speak. He looked at you waiting for his response. “Of course Sevi. It's okay. You won the race, you get to choose,” Ana interjected, not wanting to break the deal with Cael. She then looks at you apologetically.

--------------------------------------------------

After giving Cael a bath you both proceeded to Carlos room and found him grabbing some pillow and was about to sleep on the couch. “Papa, what are you doing?” Cael asked him, confused. “Bud, Papa’s bed is quite small for us three so you and Mama can sleep here. I'll just be right on the couch,” Carlos alibi. Fortunately, Cael just nodded and didn't ask further questions.

His bed is obviously more than enough for the three of you but he wants to respect your boundaries and choose to sleep on the couch beside the bed. It felt a relief for you that Carlos is sensible enough and tries his best to make you both comfortable considering your situation.

--------------------------------------------------

In the middle of the night Carlos went to the kitchen to have a glass of water. There he saw you also sipping one. “Hey, why are you up?” Carlos asked you while pouring water into his glass. “Nothing, I just can't sleep,” You replied, pondering about what Blanca said to you.

“Is anything bothering you?” Carlos asked.

“Nothing much,” You replied.

Silence filled the conversion before Carlos breaks it. “YN, I want to ask you if we can give it a try again? I was hoping we could give us another chance,” Carlos said.

“If you're doing this to give Cael a complete family, don't even think about it Carlos. We can co-parent him. That would-” You rebuke before getting cut off.

“No, Y/N. I want to try again because I love you. I still do. I always do,” Carlos said, making you shut your lips.

--------------------------------------------------

“Mom, remember when I asked you why do you give Dad a second chance when he cheated on us? You said that because you love him. I was fuming mad at you to be honest. I thought you were crazy. Why do you have to go back to the man who hurt you and still love him as much as you do? I don't understand how you can say that not until Carlos cheated on me,” You said, beginning the conversation with your mother. She just stayed silent and waited for you to continue.

“I felt and understood everything you did. Yes, he hurt me once but to be honest, my love for him is more than the pain he caused me. I was ready to talk to him about it. One sorry and I was ready to forgive him. I was ready to give him another chance, to give us another chance. But he didn't give us one and he let go.” You continued.

“Honey, marriage is a journey. It's not always happy, romantic, and perfect. You know that. You are not perfect, he is not perfect. There will come a point where you'll make mistakes and disappoint each other. But you don't get to let go by just one mistake. You vowed to each other in front of the altar that you will commit whatever you have. It will only end if you choose to end it but as long as both of you love each other and are ready to work it out without letting go, it will sail as far as it goes,” your mother said. Her words never failed to give you clarity.

“Forgiveness is part of love. And I'm proud of you for being able to say that, my love. I'm proud of you for being able to understand that love can take over your pain. You've grown so much. And I know you still love him even until now. He has a special part in your life. But now that you two are over, would you still give him a chance if he asks for it? The chance you failed to give, and the chance he failed to grab,” she continued.

“I don't know, Mom. I am afraid of what the future holds. What if I'll give him a chance and he hurts me again? I will not be the only one affected. We have a child to think about. We have Cael now.”

--------------------------------------------------

“You don't have to answer me right now. I just want to let you know. And I want you to think about it before you even reject it. I'll wait," Carlos said.

I don't know Carlos. I don't know.

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Lando's Message to Y/N

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A/N: Here's a short but heavy (sort of) update for you guys. Carlos will start winning her back in the next few parts. I hope you like this one. Let me know your thoughts and if you wanna be added to the taglist. Thank y'all!

Ps. I might be inactive for few days or weeks (bear with me) because of my exams. But I'll update after I'm done with them.

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TAGLIST:

@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo @eiaaasamantha

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz #f1 imagines #afterfiveyears

[kiwi2229]

Mother’s Day

(James Potter / Regulus Black | 620 words)

The calm morning at Potter’s manor gets interrupted by a loud noise of the doorbell. James looks at his parents with questions in his eyes but they both shrug clueless about who it could be. James gets up and walks to the door. He speaks through the window only to see Regulus standing there. He opens the door a wide smile already on his lips.

“Reggie, I didn’t know you were coming over,” James says and places a quick kiss on Regulus’ lips. The boy doesn’t respond with the usual enthusiasm. Instead, he is stiff like someone petrified him. James looks at him closely. He is dressed in a formal shirt and trousers, his hair neatly styled, and he is holding a huge bouquet in his shaking hands.

“Reg?” James asks again which pulls Regulus from whatever trance he was in.

“I’m not here for you. Is… is your mother home?” He asks. Even when Regulus is excellent in masking any nervousness from his voice, James spots how it slightly wavers.

“Yeah, sure.” He gestures towards the house letting the boy in. “Mum?” He calls.

He leads Regulus into the living room. Both of his parents immediately smile when they spot Regulus. James leans against the wall still clueless about what is happening but ready to support Regulus with the task he set himself up to.

“Miss Potter,” Regulus says. He is standing in the middle of the room shifting from one foot to another anxiously.

“Effie, dear. I told you a million times.” His mum smiles and sets the yarn she was knitting with next to her.

Regulus nods but doesn’t address her with her name. Instead, he reaches his hand with flowers handing it to Effie. “I just wanted to thank you for raising James and taking care of Sirius. They both deserve a great mother like you. It… it means a lot to me.”

James doesn’t even try to hide how he melts at the scene. The heart in his chest gives an almost painful thud when his mum gets up and hugs Regulus. He is so in love it sometimes doesn’t feel real.

“Do you want to stay for lunch?” Effie asks already eager to tug the boy on the sofa next to them.

“I… no, thank you. I don’t wanna be bother. I just wanted to give you the flowers.” Regulus smiles politely.

“Oh, don’t be silly. You are always welcome here.” Effie insists and Regulus quickly searches a room for any help. James can see how he is rubbing his hands over each other behind his back. An anxious tick he knows at this point.

He quickly closes the distance wrapping his arm around Regulus’ shoulders. He can feel how Regulus immediately leans into the touch as a relieved sigh leaves his lips.

“I think Regulus reached his level of social interactions for today. Right, love?” James says giving his mum a look. “But we can schedule lunch for another day.”

Regulus looks up at him in gratitude. He says a quick goodbye and James is already leading him to the door.

“I love you; did you know that?” James whispers as he brushes the curls from Regulus’ eyes. Regulus just nods and stands on his tiptoes to kiss him.

“You did great, thank you,” James says reassuring the boy. “When you are done hiding in your corner at home, call me, yeah? We can talk before we go to sleep. If you are tired, we can just meet tomorrow like we planned.”

Regulus just smiles at him. James is used to Regulus not talking sometimes. It’s okay, he understands him nevertheless. A soft kiss to James’ cheek for goodbye and Regulus is gone.

#happy mother's day #marauders era #marauders #jegulus #regulus black #james potter x regulus black #james potter #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #kiwi2229 writes microfics

[mrwinterr]

The Nerve

Pairing(s): former!Steve Harrington x Female Reader; eventual!Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: The nerves of some people. 

Warnings: Cliché af. Toxic behavior. When they go low, I go lower. Revenge. Not a girls’ girl here bc once you fuck around w/ another girl’s man it’s “yes, and?” from there. Implied smut. Language. We’re probably not gonna like Steve (or even the reader for a bit) here. 

Disclaimer: Typical !former and !eventual pairing. Some time hopping. None of the spooky events of the Stranger Things (2016) series take place in this piece. Everything is just where it’s at because this is made up. 

Pre A/N: This is embarrassing. I was in my villain era. I was certainly in the business of misery. I was angry (still am sometimes), so I wrote this. We all cope differently.

The nerve. 

She had the nerve to steal your boyfriend. 

It had been a few weeks since Steve broke up with you, only to start dating a girl you had harbored no ill will toward until that night. He even had the guts to reveal who she was and how long he had been losing interest in you. You weren’t going to lie, it hurt – a lot. Discovering his real need for “space” during the last two months of your relationship was painful to realize because in that time, while you were being understanding, he was finding a way to end things with you.

Looking back, you couldn’t help but dissect the memory. It was an ordinary day. School was let out for the weekend, and you were spending it with Steve, a cozy night in without interruptions since he was often left alone at home. The two of you lay on the couch, cuddled up, bodies parallel, his arms around you, the room dimly lit by the TV screen. 

“I have something I wanna talk to you about…and it’s been on my mind for a while,” Steve says, loosening his grip and pausing the movie that was mindlessly playing midway. 

“Okay,” you reply, pushing yourself up from the couch to make space for him to sit up. He shifted, swinging his legs over to plant his feet on the carpeted floor, settling into a seated position and scooting aside to allow you room to sit back down next to him.  

The atmosphere shifted noticeably, and it made you nervous. The way he ran his hands through his hair and avoided meeting your gaze – it all felt ominous, and you couldn’t prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 

“I met someone,” he revealed. 

It wasn’t the news you expected, and you could feel your heart sink into your stomach as you absorbed his words.

“Oh,” is all you manage to say, now turning your gaze to the ground too, unable to look at him. 

A whirlwind of emotions swept through you – hurt, anger, brokenness, betrayal. The signs had been there. Why hadn’t you seen them? He had been growing distant – more withdrawn, fewer “good mornings” and “good nights”, less calls, more canceled dates. You had been looking forward to tonight, thinking he was just preoccupied with work or his upcoming graduation, believing whatever he needed space for was resolved. Turns out, he needed space from you. 

You had so many questions, even though you weren’t sure why you needed the answers. In that moment, you wanted to know what you had done to make him lose interest in you. You had thought the relationship was salvageable. 

What? He was breaking up with you. 

When? He’d been feeling like this for almost two months. 

Where? At work.  

Who? The other girl he worked with, also attends Hawkins High, but she's a year above you, therefore had more classes and events with him. 

How? It just happened. 

Yeah, that last one was a classic, but not as much as him telling you that you did nothing wrong and that you both could stay friends. Bullshit. With Steve, would come her, and you couldn’t believe the nerve of her to pursue another girl’s boyfriend. You’d seen her while visiting Steve at his job, but you hadn’t felt threatened by her. The hurting phase was brutal, but now all you could feel for her was anger – after all, who didn’t know that you were dating Steve Harrington? 

She had the nerve to act all innocent.

The school hallways were not pleasant for you. A few days after the break up, rumors circulated that Steve left you for someone else, though apparently their relationship hadn’t been made public yet, sparking widespread gossip. 

How would you have known that though? His business wasn’t yours anymore. In fact, you’d made a deliberate effort to distance yourself from them because the breakup was still fresh. Fuck trying to be friends. This time you were the one that needed the space. The last thing you wanted was to think about them together. 

Steve had the audacity to point the finger at you because you were supposedly the only one aware of the relationship. Even when you tried to explain, he left you hanging. The disbelief on his face hurt to witness. He didn’t believe you. 

“How do they know about us?” Steve demanded as he approached you at your locker, hands on his hips in typical, upset Steve fashion. No hey, hi or hello. He just went right in. 

“I don’t know,” you scoffed, continuing to unload your textbooks from your backpack.

“Well, you’re the only one who knows,” he persisted, leaning in closer, determined to get an answer. “And your name is going around.” 

“Look, Steve,” you finally turned to face him, your tone sharp, catching him off guard. “Your new relationship isn’t my concern.” This is a side of you Steve isn’t used to. “Why would I go around telling everyone that you left me for her? In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever given you a reason to think I’d do something like this?” 

You could see him reconsidering his accusation. The questions seemed to stump him, as if he knew the rumors were absurd and gossip wasn’t something you partook in. 

“Why don’t you go talk to your girlfriend and figure it out?” you suggested, turning back to your locker, not in the mood to continue the conversation. 

All Steve did was stare at you before shaking his head then going into a tangent of how some of the rumors were negatively affecting her when they weren’t true and how she shouldn’t have to endure them or receive any of its backlash…as if you did. But when he started saying something along the lines of how she wouldn’t do that because she told him she didn’t, you knew this was all a wasted effort on your end because he had already made up his mind. He believed her. 

Did he truly think you cared that much about them? Did he really think you'd stoop so low as to announce his new relationship? Did he ever really know you? 

She had the nerve to lie. 

Steve apologized to you when he discovered it was actually his new girlfriend that spread the news. He recognized his rash behavior and conceded that he should’ve believed you. Why would you waste energy on them? They weren’t worth your time anymore. 

“Hey,” a voice calls from behind, and you turn to see Steve standing there, looking contrite. Unlike before, you receive a greeting.

“Hey,” you reply, briefly acknowledging him before returning to organizing your locker, now cluttered by your chaotic friend’s belongings - stashing the shit that no one would suspect the good girl to possess. It didn’t bother you much, except for the occasional stench it left behind. 

“You were right,” Steve admits, hands in his front pockets and moving to the side to look at you. Pausing your task, you wait for him to continue. “She was the one going around telling everyone that I left you…for her.” Boy, that was awkward and lowkey stung. It hadn’t even been that long and he didn’t fail to remind you how you all got here. 

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” he continues, visibly ashamed, “I should’ve known better than to believe that.” His apology didn’t really move you. The damage had already been done. You were branded as the ‘psycho ex’ and all Steve had to do was trust you from the start. 

She had the nerve to act like a girls’ girl. 

She never directly apologized, but she had the nerve to claim that she harbored “no hard feelings” toward you. Hard feelings? Why? Because you’re the ex? Was she fucking stupid? How did she expect the girl whose boyfriend she stole to feel? Everything that came out of her mouth infuriated you.  

It was no ordinary day – it was your birthday, and your friend had organized a night out to celebrate. You never liked to make a spectacle of your birthday, but it was also a good reason to go out, distract yourself, and avoid dwelling on unwanted thoughts. 

“You’re lying,” your friend responds, baffled by what you just told him, “she really said that?” 

“She fucking did!” you exclaim, still grappling with her impeccable timing. She wouldn’t know it was your birthday or would she care. 

“Jesus. Of all the days…” he says with a low whistle before attempting to lift your spirits, “But, hey, we’re not gonna let her ruin your birthday!”

“I know, and I won’t!” Your voice wavers as you try to convince yourself this wouldn’t affect you. You were determined to not cry today, but the truth was, it still hurts. Her little stunt reopened a wound that was almost healed.  

“He’s such a fool,” he remarks, followed by a brief silence. You were preoccupied with regaining your composure, fighting back tears, unable to respond. “He didn’t know what he already had in front of him. Lucky son of a bitch,” he added, and you’re not sure if he was speaking to himself or he meant to say that outloud, but you heard him nonetheless. 

“Stop,” you reply, turning your away from him. You’re not gonna cry. “I know what you’re trying to do, Eddie.”  

“What am I trying to do?” He asks adjusting to move to your line of vision, but you keep your focus averted.

“Hype me up, make me feel better…I don't know,” you answer, finally meeting his gaze, the tears now freely falling. 

He understood how hard you were on yourself, replaying what could’ve been avoided. Your relationship with Steve wasn’t something you anticipated. Steve pursued you, and initially, you were fine with a casual fling, but he insisted on something more serious. You had doubts about whether he was the right person, but what if he was? It’s a reminder that life isn’t planned; it’s lived.

Eddie’s support during your breakup was invaluable. He watched you cry a lot – at home, at his trailer, at school, at work. He watched you criticize yourself for the breakup. He watched the light go out and he was determined to reignite it. He simply wanted his friend back. 

“Sweetheart, I promise you,” he assures, hand over his heart, “everything I’ve said is sincere,” accompanied by that charming, stupid trademark Eddie grin. He was so endearing. 

“Well,” you begin, but he’s got you. He had a knack for flipping the script, leaving you wondering why you were arguing in the first place. 

Despite your curiosity about what attracted Steve to someone else and away from you, you had to accept that you probably wouldn’t ever know. 

If there was one thing you knew about Steve, it was that when he falls, he falls fast. With that realization, it sparked a wicked plan in your mind. If you could bag him once, you could probably do it again. 

The nerve. 

You had the nerve to lie. 

The only person you had confided in about your breakup with Steve was Eddie, and you had the right to do so. You needed a friend. You also knew he had no interest in high school gossip, so it couldn’t have been him that told the whole school. You trusted him. 

People liked to talk and they didn’t hold back. Although the lies bothered you, you had a strong support system in Eddie and his friends. If any group could shrug off that nonsense, it was the Hellfire Club.

“Are you sure you didn’t tell anyone?” Steve asked, continuing to badger you, even suggesting Eddie as the culprit. You knew Steve well enough that he couldn’t take gossip about him for this long. After all, he had a reputation to uphold, and not all of the rumors were in his favor. 

“Eddie?” You asked, confused but also guilty because you had done just that. 

“Yeah, I know how much time you’ve been spending with him lately.” 

“Why is that any of your business?” You countered, a bit snappy.  

“Because,” Steve began, grasping for an excuse, “people talk.”

“And you really think Eddie would? He doesn’t care about shit like this or you-”

“Please,” he interrupts with an eye roll, in the annoying way Steve always did. 

“You don’t know him,” you defended your friend, “so get off your high horse and go talk to your girlfriend about your problem,” leaving him questioning everything again.  

You had the nerve to act all innocent. 

The birthday incident, as you tried your best to keep thoughts of Steve at bay, she unexpectedly approached you, alone, feigning sweetness and innocence. You listened as she spun her lies – lies about overhearing people gossip about her, Steve, and you; lies about rumors allegedly started by you; lies about having “no hard feelings” toward you. It was all fabrication.  

Politely, you attempted to have her understand your side of the story, clarifying that you had not spread any rumors and had discussed the situation with Steve, as civil as that could’ve been, and ultimately, how she should address the matter directly with him. What were you now? A couples counselor? You didn’t have time for this or them.

You weren’t going to start lying to yourself now, but it angered you. All you saw was red. So, you gave it right back, feigning innocence yourself, doubling down on it, subtly planting a seed of doubt in her mind. 

“Watch out for him,” you said sincerely, your warning devoid of malice. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked genuinely curious. God she was fucking stupid. Did she think she would walk out of this situation without a scratch? She had just proven she was not a girl’s girl for actively pursuing your boyfriend while he was with you. The world is a jungle, and it was every woman for herself now. 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, maintaining composure, “...just a girl looking out for another girl,” you added, offering her an innocent, warm smile. 

“Okay,” she replied, sounding confused and a bit shaky. You could sense her discomfort, and she deserved to feel uneasy. 

Ultimately, you weren’t lying. Yes, she should watch out for Steve – what made her think he wouldn’t treat her the same way he did to you? However, if you were in her shoes, you’d watch out for yourself. 

You had the nerve to not act like a girl’s girl too. 

The sudden breakup with Steve left some unresolved feelings, but he was now with her, not you, yet that didn’t stop the urge to act on them. Steve was weak and you realized that soon enough. 

With your head turned to the side, you observed him, listening to his ragged breathing, how his lips parted, emitting small puffs of air, his chest rising and falling, the sweat that dripped from the top of his forehead, and eyes closed in post-bliss. Your gaze traces the freckles that speckled his skin as you studied his profile, wrestling with the questions swirling your mind.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked cautiously, breaking the silence. Why fight for him?

He didn’t respond immediately, but didn’t linger too long before replying, “Not really.” 

“We’re gonna have to,” you said and it sounded almost pathetic. Why were you trying to hold onto him? 

“I…I think we shouldn’t talk for a while,” and when he said that, you knew that actually meant this was done. He was done with you. Why did you want to change his mind?

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You knew it had to end eventually. There was no intention or hope of remaining friends. 

That night, you went home feeling hurt, broken, angry, and disgusted. You knew what you did was wrong, a sad attempt on your part. He probably wanted that reaction from you. You were more than willing to feed his male ego. What guy didn’t enjoy the idea of two girls vying for him? If it was easy for her and it was easy for you, it would be easy for another. What made him so special?

You had the nerve to try to steal her boyfriend.

It was a toxic situation. You found yourself doing exactly what she had done to you. What did that accomplish? Bragging rights and a fleeting sense of revenge, perhaps, but it didn’t bring you and Steve back together. It only highlighted how destructive you both could be. You sought revenge at the expense of homewrecking a relationship. You were no better, yet in a twisted way, you didn’t care. You wanted them to feel the same pain you did, even though deep down, you knew Steve was capable of sabotaging his own relationships. 

You told Eddie of the misdeed, feeling ashamed. He wasn’t upset with you. He understood that you would follow your own path no matter what. He didn’t have the right to control you. Both of you recognized that this would only lead to your own suffering. Unfortunately, you had to learn this lesson the hard way. 

“I know you’re upset and that’s okay,” he tries to console you, “...your feelings are valid.  But I don’t think you need to find the answers to everything. They’ll just lead to more and it’ll never end.”

He was right. The more you held onto what happened between you and Steve, the more questions arose. He was living rent free in your head. 

“I just-” you struggled, trying hard to make sense of the situation, “I just wanna know. What did I do wrong? How did he get bored of me? When was I not enough?” 

“Have you ever heard of the 80/20 rule?” he asked, and you shook your head. “It’s basically a theory that when someone cheats, they are drawn to the 20% in another person that is missing in their current partner.”

You’re not sure how much that helped you because it begged the question…”And I know what you’re thinking, so stop that!” Eddie’s quick to read you, “you’re lacking nothing, alright?” 

“Everyone knows I’m not a big fan of Steve Harrington,” he said, scrunching up his face at the mention of his name, “...but he’ll regret this. His type always comes back…fucking roaches.” That last remark elicited a small cackle out of you. 

He then took your hand in his. It’s a stark contrast to your own hand – larger, a bit rough, warm and slightly clammy – but it provided a sense of comfort. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at your hands clasped together until he gives it a light squeeze and says, “He’ll realize he was much better off with the 80% he already had.” 

Damn Eddie Munson. He was too good to you. It gave you a new perspective. Why were you being so hard on yourself? Why were you trying to convince yourself that the relationship’s downfall was your fault? It was Steve who started pulling away from you. It was Steve who did pull away from you. It was Steve who was actively pulling away from you. Everything that happened wasn’t solely on you. 

These kinds of things happen to everyone every day. Feeling hurt, broken, angry, betrayed and ashamed were normal and acceptable emotions. You just have to learn to swallow your pride and accept this as part of life. You live and learn – not necessarily forgive or forget, but move on in your own way. 

You were once happy without Steve, and you could be happy again. You gave up or changed a lot for Steve, losing sight of what made you happy. Now, you were committed to reclaiming your happiness. Fuck, when did you start crying? 

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice laced in concern, bringing his other hand up to wipe the stray tears running down your face. 

“How do you do it?” you asked, looking down to compose yourself. 

“Do what?” he responded, amused. You didn’t answer verbally, but twist your hand in his to thread your fingers between his. The small smile on your face conveyed your question, softening his features. It’s a rare emotion from Eddie, mixed with vulnerability accompanied with a newfound awareness. 

He brings your now interlocked hands to his lips but not before saying, “...because I’m a big fan of you,” and kisses the back of your hand gently.

The nerve.

Steve had the nerve to lie. 

Several months have passed with minimal communication from Steve. Occasionally seeing them together around school and town didn’t bother you anymore – well, not entirely. You can’t deny it still stirred up certain feelings, but you didn’t give it a second thought and eventually they weren’t a blimp on your radar. The past no longer consumed you, but unexpectedly, it started consuming Steve. 

Evidently, he still knew your schedule and had been desperately trying to find a chance to talk to you – just the two of you, without Eddie, other friends, teachers, classmates, or family around. When he approached you, you were confused; unsure if he was still with her or anyone else. You intentionally tuned out gossip and never paid attention to their situation. Besides, you had a better reason to not care about Steve anymore. So, when he starts pouring out his feelings, you take it with a grain of salt, this time with a clearer mind. 

“Hey,” Steve calls out as you step out of your front door, ready to head out with your ride nearby. 

“Uh, hey, Steve,” you reply with uncertainty. 

“Can we talk?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Now might not be the best time,” you respond with unease. 

“Please, just give me five minutes,” he begs, his eyes full of hope and pleading. What could there possibly be left to talk about? Despite your instincts telling you to stand firm, you reluctantly agree to hear him out, which you soon regret. 

Steve begins with an apology and offers to explain his actions. What more was there for him to explain? You no longer desired an explanation. It was simple – he grew tired of you, became interested in another girl, and left you; perhaps grew tired of her too and now he’s back. You had moved on from your failed relationship with Steve months ago. However, he felt he “owed” you an explanation. Was this all a joke to him?

The more he spoke, the more you got lost in your thoughts trying to comprehend the reality that he was standing before you, admitting to his mistakes, and seeking a second chance. His voice started to fade into the background as you felt the weight of deciding how to respond, all while knowing your ride would arrive at any moment. When the pressure got too much, you finally managed to step up. 

“Steve,” you interrupt, “I don’t know what you want me to say to you.” 

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just–” he’s cut off by the sound of loud, muffled music, causing both of you to turn your attention to the bulky van that just pulled up in front of your house. 

You glanced at Steve sending him a tight lip smile before taking the short few steps to the curb, not looking back, knowing you were never going to get that "owed" explanation.

Steve had the nerve to try to act all innocent.

The atmosphere in Eddie’s van is tense the moment you climb into the passenger seat. Neither of you expected to see Steve today, let alone right before a date. And it happened. The lingering feelings had unearthed between you and Eddie and you welcomed it, a testament to your decision to move on from Steve. Right when things are looking up, life throws you a curveball in the form of your ex. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks cautiously, stealing a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. 

“Yeah,” you reply unconvincingly, then quickly retract, “no,” followed by a sigh, “I mean, I was…I am. I’m just annoyed at Steve right now. I swear I had no idea he was stopping by.” 

“You’re fine,” Eddie assured, dismissively waving his hand to convey that it wasn’t a big deal to him, though his mind was racing with a million questions. When he saw Steve with you, he couldn’t help but wonder: Why was Steve there? What were you two talking about? What did Steve want? Had you been in contact with him and not mentioned it? Not that Eddie could control who you talked to, girlfriend or not. 

“I can’t believe he had the nerve to say he ‘respects’ my feelings!” Your emotions spill out as you unload on Eddie, “After everything he did to me, does that look like someone who ‘respects’ my feelings?” 

“It is a pretty shitty thing for him to do,” Eddie agrees, not just coming from the boyfriend perspective, but from any perspective. 

Steve thought that by acknowledging your feelings upfront, it would ease his case. However, upon reflection, you realized it was more about saving face for the hurtful way he left you, attempting to depict himself in a more favorable light.

“Right?!” The audacity Steve had to arrive at your door, unannounced, just before your date with Eddie. God, Eddie. It was a brief but uncomfortable moment. Steve knew you were friends with Eddie, he never bothered to understand the depth of your relationship because he didn’t care enough to meet your other friends. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say, feeling remorseful.  

“For what?” he chuckles softly because can’t believe what you're apologizing for.

“I didn’t expect to see Steve today,” you explain. 

“That’s not on you,” he assures, “remember, I told you they always come back.” 

“True,” you agree, “but that’s not what I want.” 

“What do you want, then?” he asks.

“You,” you admit, “just you, Eddie,” reaching for his free hand to hold for assurance. 

Yeah, Steve wasn’t going to fool you.  

Steve had the nerve to try to steal you from your boyfriend. 

During the initial months, Steve made attempts to regain your favor. You questioned repeatedly whether you could genuinely consider being just friends with him. That had been his original intention after breaking your heart, but he failed to uphold his end of the deal. Was it worth attempting to rebuild a friendship with him? Would it reflect poorly on your judgment if you did? Could you bear being around Steve in any capacity? If Eddie hadn’t arrived on time for your date that evening, you didn’t know how much more of Steve's admission you could take before you hit another breaking point. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” Steve begins, pausing, his mouth opening and closing as he carefully chooses his next words, “I miss you.” He observes your lack of response before continuing, “I miss us. We worked…and I really want to try and get to that again…to what we had.” 

You can see it was difficult for him to admit this. Seeing your unphased reaction, he begins to ramble and talk out of his ass, “I mean, only if you want to. I can understand if you don’t. I do respect your feelings.” 

You knew you didn’t have the mental or even emotional capacity to deal with Steve at that moment, and fortunately, the interaction didn’t progress any further. More importantly, it didn’t ruin your date with Eddie. 

Steve’s graduation, once an event you looked forward to celebrating, was now a canceled event on your calendar. While you wished you could’ve joined in celebrating, Eddie had unfortunately not passed his exams again. Hopefully, on his third attempt, he will be able to graduate and walk the stage with you next year. 

You had started working at a music store, which you enjoyed because it allowed you to be surrounded by something you loved – music. Eddie particularly appreciated the employee discount, a place to hang around during your shifts, though he seemed less excited about the store’s proximity to a certain video store.

It was inevitable that Steve would eventually walk in. Initially, your classmate and presumably Steve’s co-worker, now friend, Robin accompanied him. Over time, Steve started coming in alone, conveniently when Eddie wasn’t hanging around. 

It wasn’t that you were afraid to be alone with him, and Eddie trusted you; he simply didn’t trust Steve. Despite Steve not being the same person from high school, multiple events humbling him, his efforts to revive your past relationship persisted. Although his approach was more subdued than before and masked as friendship, there was still an underlying motive. It was no secret either that you were in a relationship with Eddie. 

Given the small-town geography of Hawkins, you accepted Steve wasn’t going to just disappear. You managed to adapt to his presence. While you couldn’t deny that this attention boosted your ego, you were resolute about not revisiting the past with him. 

“So, I’ve got a copy of Pretty In Pink hot off the press,” Steve announced, showcasing proof of the video tape during another lunch break he spent at your workplace with you on a slow day. “Interested in watching it with me tonight?” he asked, trying to sound smooth and hopeful, adding and emphasizing “as friends,” though not convincingly considering you haven’t agreed to any plans with Steve let alone as that. 

You glanced at him, then at the tape in his hands, and then back at him. “Thanks, but I’m not really into rom-coms,” you replied with a small smile. 

“What? Since when?” he asked, visibly surprised. 

“Since forever…” you answered with a light laugh that almost sounded like a scoff. It internally annoys you because as a former partner, he should’ve known that.

“Oh,” he said, setting the tape down on the counter between you. 

“Yeah,” you drawled, trying to fill the ensuing awkward silence. Fortunately, the door chimed, signaling a new customer – saved by the bell, literally.  

“Babe, you’re gonna love me! I convinced Robin to save me a copy of Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and she fucking delivered,” Eddie exclaimed excitedly about tonight’s movie, barely noticing Steve’s presence until he reached the register. “Oh, hey, man.” 

It’s amusing yet endearing to see Eddie straighten up and square his shoulders around Steve, as if they were in competition. You couldn’t blame Eddie for feeling that way, though he really had no reason to worry he’d lose. 

“Hey,” Steve replied, shoving the copy of the romantic comedy aside, embarrassed that he had forgotten your preference for horror movies. 

As you and Eddie enthusiastically discussed the sequel, Steve felt out of place, as if you and Eddie were in your own little world, completely forgetting he was still standing there. He couldn’t contribute to the conversation because he hadn’t seen the first movie and didn’t know anything about it to share in the excitement. Eventually, he quietly slipped away with the tape in hand, on the short trek back to Family Video concluding his lunch break. 

The notion of ‘forgive and ‘forget’ was bullshit. While you could be civil, deep down, you still harbored hurt and anger over what happened. Much of the past year was spent in an emotional decline that affected various aspects of your life – home, social interactions, physical and mental well-being. Now, however, you were focused on reclaiming your happiness. Places and things around town that once reminded you of Steve and your past relationship no longer brought sadness; you were forging new memories with someone else.  

Whether it be in a friend or significant other, Eddie was like your rock. He was there from the start, witnessing your first date with Steve and even expressing his reservations about him. Yet, he knew he had to let you navigate life, love and mistakes on your own. Despite any reckless choices you made, even those that disappointed him, Eddie remained a source of comfort and support because he genuinely cared for you. 

Growing closer to Eddie was a breath of fresh air compared to Steve. You didn’t feel the need to impress Eddie; he was always impressed by you. Reflecting on it, you realized how much you had changed to fit in Steve’s world, which now seemed almost pathetic. With Eddie, you don’t have to change anything – your clothes, your diet, your friends, or your interests. He respected you for who you were. 

It’s ironic that just as you’re back on track and happy, Steve wants to interfere. What’s even sadder is that he promised an explanation but hasn’t delivered, yet he’s actively pursuing you. So what? You tell your ex you still have feelings for them and miss what you both had. What did he expect? That he was Steve Harrington and you’d jump back into his arms? No. He had moved on, supposedly, and so did you, finally. 

Part of you cherished early memories with Steve, and you weren’t going to fail to admit that during the initial attempts, you entertained the thought of what if you got back with him. However, he’s the reason why you struggled to move on and became recluse. Who knows? Maybe he learned from his mistakes or not. What he did to you, he did to her and would likely repeat to others. He only proved that second chances sometimes didn’t matter because rarely do people change. You concluded you couldn’t be more than what you currently were to Steve. 

He was the one who chose to end the relationship. He was the one who decided you weren’t enough for him. He was the one who chose to engage with another woman. He was the one who strung you along. He's the one who decided to cut you off. And now, he’s the one seeking a way back in. It was comical because all the tactics he used the first time he convinced you to go out on a date with him didn’t work this time. It had him trying harder and he was failing miserably. You were now the one living rent-free in his head. 

The events of this whole situation have allowed you to build emotional strength and learn to love yourself and someone else again. You were happy, and happy with Eddie. You weren’t going to let something silly as an 80/20 rule or a past relationship with Steve interfere with that happiness.

Yet, it goes to show the nerves of some people. 

Post A/N: I wish I had this happier ending in real life. Please like, comment and/or reblog. It’ll motivate me to write more and you know also help my self-esteem.

#mrwinterr writing #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female!reader #steve harrington x female!reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington

[avastrasposts]

Big Sky Country - ch. 3 **

Hello!

Chapter 3 is where things get rough, but those little stars next to the chapter title also mean things get spicy so enjoy!

Warnings for the whole series here

Fic summery: Cowboy Frankie returns to New York to work things out with his 'maybe girlfriend' Eva. But he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.

Cowboy!Frankie x OFC Aisling

Series Master LIst

It was late when he woke up, half the day seemed to have passed and another siren startled him awake. He was face down on the couch, his neck ached from the weird position and he groaned as he rolled over and sat up. The water was running in the bathroom so Eva must be up, he heard her flush the toilet and he got up to sort breakfast. 

He tapped gently on the bathroom door, “How do you feel about some food?” he asked and when he got no reply he knocked a little bit louder. The shower was running and he pushed the door open, knocking again. 

“Hey, it’s me, how do you feel about breakfast?” 

His eyes widened as he saw the toilet bowl, there was blood in it, and his insides twisted.

“Eva!” 

She’d already turned off the water and her hand came out, grabbing her towel off the hook, her movements slow, and he couldn’t understand her lack of panic as he felt it rush through his body, making his heart sprint. 

“Eva! What happened?” Frankie tugged at the shower curtain and she didn't meet his eyes, instead she looked down at the thin rivulet of blood running down the inside of her thigh. 

“Cariño, please, I need to get you to the ER,” he said, holding out his hand to her but she just shook her head. 

“It’s normal, Frankie,” she said “They told me this would happen.” 

“What? Who told you?” Frankie felt himself floundering, he didn’t understand, she’s losing the baby but she doesn’t seem bothered.

She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out of the shower. 

“I had an abortion, Frankie.” 

He felt the blood drain from his face, and there was a sudden sharp sting where his nails were digging into his palms. 

“An abortion?” he said, his voice strangled as Eva gave a weak nod and sighed.  

“I told you, I can’t do this Frankie, I don’t want to do this.” 

“Without even talking to me?” he said, “We never even talked about it properly!” 

His voice bounced around the tiled bathroom and Eva pulled the towel tighter around her and shoved past him. 

“There was nothing to talk about, I didn’t want it, it’s my choice.” 

Frankie rubbed his hand over his face and she disappeared into the bedroom. He took a few deep breaths before he followed her. 

“I know that, Eva, but…fuck…I thought we had more time to talk about it, this is our baby, I want to do this with you. And I would’ve come with you, helped you!” 

“Was.” 

“What?” 

“Was, you said ‘is’,” she looked up at Frankie where he was standing in the doorway. “I had the abortion, it’s done.” 

The buzzing was back in his head, it felt like a swarm of bees had made a nest just behind his forehead. He pressed the palm of his hand to his head and squeezed his eyes shut. There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, the life he’d imagined was gone and he felt like a door had closed, it felt a bit like grief, pain. But a part of him was feeling something else, relief maybe? Or just anger at Eva for not letting him in, not needing him to be there when… His breath hitched, the thought catching and his heart clenched with pain. 

“I’m sorry, Frankie,” Eva said, standing by the bedroom door, watching him rub his face. “I know you thought we could make it work, but I’d already made my mind up.” 

“So why did you make me come all the way to New York?” Anger suddenly flared up inside him, “Why make me sit on that fucking bus for two days, why even fucking tell me?” He was yelling, his fist thumping against the wall, “Why the fuck did you tell me and make me come back and let me think we would- “ 

“What, Frankie?” Eva yelled back at him, cutting him off, “What? We would make a happy little family in this shitty one bedroom flat in fucking Greenpoint? I hadn’t fucking made my mind up and I needed you here, I needed to talk to you! I missed you and-” 

“We never talked!” Frankie spat out, “You never even-” He cut himself off, his body itched, the buzzing so loud he couldn’t even hear himself think, he needed to leave, needed to breathe. “Fuck it,” he snarled, “I need air, I can’t be here anymore.” 

He shoved past her, into the bedroom and Eva backed away, letting him tug his jeans on without a word. He didn’t say anything else either, grabbed his jacket and wallet, slamming the front door behind him. 

Before he knew it, he was out on the street, turning down the block and walking away. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, anger thrummed through his body. He doesn't even know if he’s relieved or not, he’s just angry. Angry at Eva for not letting him be a part of the decision, angry that she didn’t even need him there, didn’t let him do the right thing and take her to the clinic. Even if they’d disagreed on the next step, he’d still be there for her, if she wanted to have an abortion, he’d help her anyway he could. But he wasn’t even allowed to be a part of that. 

He mumbled under his breath as he stalked down the street, people giving him a wide berth when they saw his thunderous face, but he didn't even notice. His feet carried him around Greenpoint, down to the river where he found himself standing by the edge and staring out across the water towards Manhattan. With a deep sigh he sat down on a bench by and gazed out at the glittering skyline without really seeing it, he was just looking west.

His head was trying to sort through the events of the past few days, his mind spinning all the conversations on a loop as the hours passed. His stomach growled but he felt too sick to eat, too angry. All the things that had happened that made him leave Montana and come back to Brooklyn;  Eva’s phone call and revelation, two days on a bus, his own thoughts about becoming a father, the fear and then the determination to not fuck this up. He tried to sort through his emotions the way NA had taught him, lined them all up in his head, getting to the root of why he’s feeling what he’s feeling. 

I wanted to be a dad, he told himself, I had a plan, move closer to town, make sure Eva was happy too. I was thinking I could build a corral and get a couple of horses for us, and then our kid could grow up with horses, maybe we’d get a dog too. I could take them out on the trail, go swimming in that creek up by Weed’s Bluff. Bring stuff to cook lunch, maybe we’d catch some fish...I could show our kid how to gut the fish, we’d cook it together…Yeah…I’d like that. 

Honestly, Morales. Don’t fucking lie to yourself now. Is that really what you want? Or is it just what you think you’re supposed to want? 

No, I want that, I really want that. A normal family life, my head quiet, people I love around me.

And you wanted to do all that with Eva? 

Yeah, of course! Sure. Probably. I guess? 

Fucking liar. She didn’t even tell you she was getting the abortion. That’s fucked up. She told you she was pregnant, got you here so that you could discuss things, and then she just had the abortion without even letting you come with her. She’s not fucking worth it, Morales. 

I still love her. 

Liar. 

Ok, fine, I don’t know if I still love her. I did love her. Things were good back in Montana for a while. If I could get her to move back there, then maybe... 

She doesn’t want to go back to Montana. And she betrayed you. 

She cut me out of the decision, and not just the decision, she didn’t even let me help her through it. 

Fuck!

He felt the anger rise again as he came back to that, he’d accept her decision to not go through with it, he knows that’s her choice. But the baby would’ve been his too, and now he just felt empty, no closure. He wasn’t even allowed to be there when the decision was made and the pills taken. 

He snarled through his teeth, kicked a rock, the sharp pain snapping him out of his inaction. 

Fuck her! If that’s how little I mean to her, then fuck her! 

Frankie spun around and turned his back on the Manhattan skyline. It had gotten late, a shiver ran through his body as he realized he’d been sitting still on the bench for hours. With a final angry kick at an offending rock, he turned back towards the apartment. He’d just pack up his shit, go down to Port Authority and find the next bus heading west. 

Fuck this city! 

Aisling looked up as someone knocked on the front door of the bar. The bar had just closed for the night and the doors had been locked. When she spotted Frankie through the glass she scowled and pursed her lips. 

“The fucking nerve of this guy…” she hissed under her breath and ignored him, going back to cleaning the bar, but he knocked again, the sound of his knuckles on the old wood loud in the empty room. 

“I’m sorry,” he called through the window, “I made a mistake, I shouldn’t have left.” 

She looked up at him again, those soft brown eyes locking onto her with a pained expression. He looked pathetic, his hair a mess, no cap, begging at her door, and she told him as much. 

“You look pathetic, Morales,” she called back at him, but she put down the rag and stepped out past the bar. 

“I know,” came his reply, “I’m a pathetic fucked up loser.” 

That made her give a small smirk, the corner of her lip pulling up as she approached the door. 

“As a rule, I don’t forgive guys who kiss me and then run away,” she said, stopping just in front of the door with her arms crossed as if she had no intention of opening it. But Frankie saw the glimmer in her eyes, and he couldn’t hide the smile that crept up his own face. 

“You kissed me first,” he reminded her, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he tilted his head and looked at her, his smile widening. 

“And then you kissed me back and ran off,” Aisling scolded him, but there was no heat there. Instead she slid back the dead bolt and unlocked the door. “You know, we’re already closed.” 

“I just wanted to talk to you, I left it kinda bad last time,” Frankie said, “I apologize, I got in my head about shit and made a mistake.” 

She let him follow her back to the bar and he sat down on the same stool as the last time as she went back to cleaning the bar. 

“Thanks for acknowledging that,” she replied, “I’m not used to guys coming on that strong and then rejecting me.” 

“Can I start over?” he asked, holding out his hand to her, “Hi, I’m Frankie, deadbeat cowboy who just drifted in from Montana without a job and connections.” 

She gave him a crooked smile, the corner of her mouth pulling up as she took his proffered hand. 

“Hi Frankie, I’m Aisling, Brooklyn hustler who takes advantage of cute cowboys who don’t know better.” 

He chuckled at that, his warm hand enveloping hers as he shook it, and she was reminded of how it had felt cupping her cheek, rough calluses, thick fingers, gentle in her hair. 

“Cute, huh?” he smirked, the tips of his ears turning pink as she smiled back at him. 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” she replied and he chuckled again, the soft curls bouncing around his ears now that they weren’t confined by the cap. 

“I won’t, but I was hoping you’d still wanna take me for that bodega sandwich?” 

Aisling gave him a long once over, he wasn’t cocky, just asking with an honest look in those deep brown eyes that seemed to pull her in. He was obviously hoping to continue what they’d started yesterday, and, despite cursing him out most of last night, she found she wasn’t opposed to it. The kiss had replayed in her head since she woke up and here the owner of those soft lips was standing in front of her again, offering a second chance at feeling them. 

Fuck any standards. 

“Sure, the offer still stands. I just need to restock the bar and then I’m done,” she replied. 

“Let me help then, you’ll get done faster and I’m starving,” he said, standing up from the stool as she nodded. 

Frankie knew he was in the wrong, he shouldn’t start something here. It wasn’t fair on Aisling, he was leading her into a situation a lot more complicated than two people just being attracted to each other. There was a small ball of guilt in the pit of his stomach, but the feeling of being betrayed, rejected, still had his head in a death grip. His feet had led him here almost unconsciously after he’d decided to go back to the apartment and pack up. Or, he told himself it was unconscious, in reality he knew he’d made the decision to turn down this street instead of the next one. Just like he had yesterday. He’d come here, looking for Aisling’s warm smile, her soft touch, such a contrast to what life with Eva was now. 

Just a sandwich, he told himself, just a sandwich, hang out with her, have a break from this whole fucking mess with Eva, and then I’ll get my shit and head to Port Authority. Maybe I can get her number, she can come visit once I’m done with Eva. Show her the ranch, the cabin. Yeah, just a sandwich. 

“Just put away those glasses, they go up there,” Aisling said and pointed at a shelf over his head as he was pulled out of his thoughts. 

He got to work and Aisling continued loading beers into the fridge, glancing over at him as he stretched to place the glasses. He’d shrugged out of his tan suede jacket and the faded blue t-shirt underneath hugged his shoulders as he moved. When she crouched down to the fridge under the bar counter, she got a glimpse of his soft belly, a tantalizing trail of dark hair, and she was momentarily stunned. There was something about how it disappeared down into his jeans, his solid looking thighs covered in well worn denim flanking the not very discreet bulge below his belly. 

With a bit of an effort, she pulled her gaze away from him, and stacked the last couple of beers. 

“All done, let’s get out of here,” she said, standing up and brushing off the knees of her own well worn jeans. 

He gave her a quick smile and pulled his jacket back on, following her out through the front door and watched her lock up. 

“So is New York treating you any better?” she asked, as they began walking towards the bodega, “You weren’t too happy with her last time.” 

Frankie’s lips twisted into a grimace, “Still kicking my ass, but at least the bartenders are friendly.” 

Aisling smiled and hooked her arm around his, giving it a squeeze, “Don’t worry, she’ll grow on you once you’ve had this sandwich.” 

He was just as solid under her grip as she remembered, and when he accepted her arm and pulled her a little bit closer, she decided she’d forgiven him for running off last time. 

Her comment made Frankie smile properly as he relished the feel of her warm hand on his arm. Even out on the dirty street, combating with a couple of trash bags and the diesel fumes from a truck, he could smell the scent of her hair, and he held back the impulse to bury his nose in the long curls by her neck and inhale. Instead he squeezed her arm in return and watched as her eyes smiled up at him. He could kiss her again, right now, and see if it made his head go as quiet as last time, just let her presence take over his brain and calm it. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he got any words out, she tugged his arm towards the entrance of a bodega. 

“This is the place, get your order in, cowboy,” she said as she pushed open the door and let go of his arm, and he followed her into the fluorescent light of the small shop, “What’s your go to?” 

Frankie rubbed a large hand absentmindedly over his jaw as he looked up at the scribbled menu, “Philly cheese steak,” he decided, “can’t go wrong with that. What’s yours?” He looked over at Aisling who was leaning on the counter smiling at him while the elderly man behind it started slicing a bagel. 

“Turkey, lettuce, tomato, cheddar on an everything bagel,” she replied, “Joseph here knows how I like ‘em.” 

“She hasn’t changed her order since she was twelve,” Joseph chuckled, “and I still can’t convince her to add mustard to it.” 

“Disgusting,” Aisling huffed and wrinkled her nose. She waved a hand at Frankie, introducing him to Joseph. “This is Frankie, he moved here a couple of days ago from Montana, we need to convince him that New York isn’t as bad as he thinks it is.” 

“Greatest city in the world!” Joseph exclaimed with a bark, wrapping Aislings bagel, “no city like it and she’ll chew you up and spit you out if you show any fear.” 

“Isn’t that how you treat horses? No fear?” Aisling grinned at Frankie as Joseph started work on his order. She unwrapped her bagel, taking a big bite as Frankie replied. 

“Yeah, something like that, except they’ll kick you, not eat you,” he chuckled, “But if you could teach me how to handle New York like a horse, I’d be grateful, so far she’s been doing her best to kick my ass.” 

“With a few exceptions,” Aisling said, her smile suddenly softer and she threw a glance over her shoulder at Joseph. He was busy slicing the ribeye and she took a quick step towards Frankie, pressing a quick kiss to the bare patch in his scruffy beard before she winked at him. She felt his hand reach for her waist, but with a few quick steps she disappeared down towards the drink section at the back of the shop. From behind her she heard Joseph chuckle, and when she looked back, Frankie had his eyes on her, rooted to the spot while the elderly man piled the Philly Cheese steak ingredients high on the hoagie. 

“I guess you’re trying to tame at least one mare in New York,” Joseph said, giving him a grin, and Frankie felt his cheeks burn as the man wrapped the sandwich with deft hands and handed it over. 

“Soda, water or beer?” Aisling called from the back of the shop and Frankie looked back at her. She was holding up one of each in her hand, waving them at him and he swallowed, finding his voice again. 

“Whatever you’re having,” he replied and she gave him a quick nod, ditching the soda and water and picking up a second bottle of beer. 

“Ring us up, Joseph, and put it on my tab,” she called to the owner who nodded and made a note on a pad next to the till. 

“You sure?” Frankie asked as she nudged him towards the exit with the beer bottles and her bagel. 

“Pay me back sometime,” she said as he grabbed the door and held it open for her, “I’m sure I’ll need something fixed, some helicopter or whatever. Bye, Joseph!” She called to the man behind the counter who gave her a wave and Frankie another grin. 

“You have a lot of helicopters that need fixing then?” Frankie asked as they stepped back out onto the street and Aisling felt her heart expand as he reached over and grabbed the bottles from her hand, a cheeky smirk on his face, the dimple deep in his cheek. He was so close as he leaned down to grab the bottles, she could smell his cologne, or maybe it was his body wash, and the warm scent sent a spark through her system as she met his dark brown eyes.

“Loads, my apartment’s full of them, don’t know where to put them all,” she replied, “It’s actually really lucky you came along because I’ve been desperately needing someone to fix them.” 

“Maybe you should take me there then, so that I can take a look at them,” Frankie said, still standing a little bit closer than needed as he held her gaze. As he watched, her tongue came out and slipped over her bottom lip before she sucked it into her mouth. It was all he could do to not drop both the bottles and the sandwich on to the sidewalk and grab her to tease that pink lip from between her teeth. 

“Maybe,” she said, her voice low as he felt her breath over his cheek, he hadn’t realized he was still bending down to her level, but he couldn’t make himself pull back. “But just so we’re on the same page, I have no helicopters, it’s all just a clever ruse to get you back to my place and have sex.” 

Frankie felt the blood in his head rush south in an instance, his cock filling rapidly, and he inhaled sharply, fighting to keep his cool.

“If you really had helicopters that needed fixing, I’d be disappointed,” he smiled, leaning closer so that his mouth was right next to her ear, “And it’s not helicopters I’ve been thinking about in the shower lately.” As his mouth touched the soft skin under her ear, her breath hitched and he smiled into her neck, letting his lips brush across the warm surface, before he stood back up. Aisling was smiling at him, her green eyes dark and eager, and she hooked her arm through his again, making him straighten up and follow her down the street. 

She lived just on the next block, down an alley and through a door into a small lobby, the dingy building framed by two recent developments close to the river. Frankie let himself be led by her, leading him away from all thoughts of Eva, of what she’d ended, the anger and guilt in the pit of his stomach, the noise in his head. He left it all like the trash bags on the sidewalk and let his heart, or maybe his cock, make any decisions. 

Conversation seemed to have ended now that they were both on the same page and eager to begin. Aisling felt his solid bicep curl and move under her fingers as he adjusted his grip on the bottles, and she'd never thought she’d be so turned on by a guy’s bicep. But rubbing her hand over his muscle, caressing him, she felt heat beginning to build inside as she led him towards her building. 

Frankie wasn’t doing much better on his end. Walking next to her, he remembered how soft and pliant she’d been under him when they’d kissed, and he wondered if he’d be able to pull the same low moans from her tonight. He glanced down at her lips, his cock twitching in his jeans, as images flooded his brain.  

The front door keys jangled as she pulled them from her pocket and unlocked the door, Frankie waiting behind her. The hallway was dimly lit and gloomy, but empty, and on impulse he leaned in and pushed her hair to the side, pressing his lips to the back of her neck. Her small intake of breath was enough to make him continue, as she opened the door and stepped inside. Her hands found the bottles and blindly took them from him, placing them on the table inside the door. Frankie’s unopened sandwich tumbled to the floor as he turned her around and cupped her face in his hands. She barely managed to pull the door closed behind him and turn the lock, before he pushed her inwards, kicking his boots off as he went. Catching a glimpse of the room, the bed pushed up against a wall, he let her pull him towards it. 

A trail of clothes littered the floor before she pulled him down over her. His mouth on hers, his tongue wrapping around hers, as his large hands spanned her cheeks and the back of her head. Catching himself with one hand above her, he tugged his jeans down while she grabbed his shoulders, one hand slipping down between them to push inside his boxers and eagerly wrap around his hard length. 

Frankie hissed, gasped into her mouth, as her thumb swiped across his weeping head, the silky beads spreading over the soft skin as he kicked the boxers off his feet. With smooth strokes she teased him to grow harder under her touch, and he rewarded her with growls that went straight to her pussy, making her press her thighs together. 

“Fuck, Aisling,” he huffed, his hips jerking into her hand, “let me take care of you first.” He pulled back a little from her mouth, she felt her lips tingle from the way his mustache had scratched against her skin, and the almost pained expression on his face made her smile. His eyes were half closed, eyebrows pulled together as he huffed out every breath in time with her strokes down his shaft. 

“Does it feel good, Frankie?” she asked, her voice low and soft, “Are you going to come in my hand? Is this what you thought about in the shower?”

With an effort he shook his head, a strained chuckle coming out, “No, I pictured…fuck…other parts of you around my c-cock.”

“Tell me,” she teased, slowing her strokes, caressing his balls as her hand moved down and Frankie whined, pressing his hips down into her palm. 

“Y-your…mouth. Fuck…bebita…let me taste you, I want to eat your cunt before…before I fuck you…” His hand moved down between them, briefly wrapping around hers as she held his cock, slowing her strokes, “Can I lick your pussy, hermosa?” he asked, looking down at her with dark eyes as she nodded, his hand moving dangerously close to the center of her core. 

“Fuck, yes please…Frankie, touch me,” she groaned as he slid his fingers down through her folds, catching her clit with the back of his nails. She gasped, hips jumping up towards his hand, moaning again, his name now stuck like a prayer in her throat. 

“I knew you’d be so wet, so fucking wet for me, hermosa…” Frankie groaned and pushed her legs part, eagerly sliding down between her thighs as she moved her hands to his hair. His curls were just as soft as she remembered, but when he bent his head and ran his tongue through her for the first time, all thoughts were pushed from her head. 

“Holy shit, Frankie…” she moaned, falling limp against the bed as he put one of her legs over his shoulder. With a soft chuckle he nudged the tip of his nose against her sensitive little bundle of nerves, while his tongue teased her entrance. 

With each lap her body arched up from the bed, her fingers gripping his hair tight, spurring him on. He used his hands to keep her open for him, keeping her pinned down as she started writhing underneath him, gasping his name, her hips rocking against his open mouth. Glancing up at her, he caught her tilting her face up towards the ceiling, her teeth bared as if in pain, but the noises falling from her lips told him otherwise. Every breathy moan, gasping whine, made his cock ache, as she praised him and his mouth. 

When her muscles began to tense and tremble beneath him, he grabbed her hips, held her steady and sucked her throbbing clit into his mouth, flicked his tongue over and over, until she all but imploded in his arms. She cried out his name, the sound muffled by her thighs tight around his ears. The sweet sting of her fingers in his hair made him groan into her cunt as he licked her through the orgasm. 

With a shaky breath she let go of his curls, apologizing for almost ripping his hair out as she flexed her fingers.

“ ‘S fine,” Frankie chuckled, kissing the inside of her thigh before moving up her body, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses along her overheated skin, “I like it, makes me feel how much you’re enjoying my mouth on you.” 

“Fuck yeah, Frankie, holy shit, you really know how to do that well…” Aisling sighed, relishing in his warm body sliding over her sweat slick skin. The hard length of his cock pressed against her lower belly as he held himself over her. Letting her arms wrap around his neck and shoulders she pulled him down towards her mouth, the salty taste of herself mixing with his own as she opened her mouth to his tongue. He licked into her with slow strokes, letting his hips roll against her, seeking some relief for his aching cock trapped between their bodies. 

“Condoms in the bedside table, Frankie,” Aisling mumbled against him as he let slip an especially needy groan into her mouth. He nodded and pushed off her, rolling over to the side and fishing out the packet. Aisling watched as he sat up and ripped it open, taking his cock in hand and rolled the rubber down over his thick length with a slight hiss. His skin was golden under the light of the small lamp in the corner, his curls an unruly halo around his head and he was a vision where he sat, hand wrapped around his cock, turning to look at her. 

“Come here, cowboy,” she smiled at him, reaching for his hand, “How do you want me?” 

“I want to feel you come around my cock,” he replied, coming back to her, crowding her and letting his hand slip over her breast, grabbing at the soft flesh, “Tell me how I can make you come again, bebita.” 

“Let me be on top,” she answered, smiling as he groaned and grabbed her waist, “Hold me and let me ride that thick cock, Frankie.” 

“Fuck, yes, anything you want,” he growled as she settled down over him, a leg on each side of his narrow hips as he leaned against the headboard. His fingers held on to her thighs as she lined him up and slowly sank down over him. His breath was strained and his whole body tensed up underneath her. She could feel his legs flex, and as he tilted his head back with a groan, every fiber of his flushed neck was stretched taught. With a soft moan she let herself sink all the way down, slowly rolling her hips over him, causing him to mutter in Spanish into the dark room. 

“I don’t speak Spanish, Frankie,” she mumbled, smiling down at him as he tilted his head forward and gave her a foggy look through half open eyes, “but I’m going to take that as a compliment.” 

“So fucking good…” he groaned, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck, “So fucking tight and hot, feel like…fuck…” he gasped as she lifted herself up, squeezing him as she sank down again, “feel like fucking heaven,” he panted. 

Aisling felt his mouth against the skin on her neck, one arm around her waist, the other holding tight around her shoulders as he fucked up into her as best he could. She squeezed him, sliding up and down, lifting her hips to meet him, his groans growing louder in her ear. Pushing her hand between their slick bodies she found where they were joined and let her fingers feel him drive in and out of her for a beat. Leaned against her, Frankie cursed in Spanish again and gasped. 

“Oh shit that’s hot,” he panted, “feeling your fingers on me…Baby, please, use me, make yourself come.” 

He pulled back a little so that he could watch her hand move between them, his eyes slipping closed as he got lost in the feeling of her squeezing him with every roll of her hips. Her free hand was in his hair, curled around his damp strands, and when he felt her tighten her grip, he knew she was close again. 

Biting his lip he fought against his own climax, egging hers on, sucking on her skin, biting her neck and making her moan into the quiet room. He lifted his hips and pulled her down hard over him and she went rigid in his arms, crying out as her back arched. The way her cunt spasmed around his aching cock, her body shaking under his hold, made him fall over the edge with her. With a shout into her neck he felt himself explode, wave after wave of heat rolling through his body in an almost painful release as he pulled her against him. Her head lolled back on her neck, gasping for air as his stuttering hips kept her rolling through her climax. She could feel him tense up, his thighs shaking between her legs. 

“Fuuuuuck….” Frankie groaned, finally going limp in her arms as he fell back against the headboard, pulling her with him, her head on his shoulder now. She breathed in his warm skin, placing a small kiss just under his ear to taste the drops of sweat that were slowly making their way down his neck. Somehow she imagined him tasting like wood fire and well worn leather from the saddles and reins, open air and big skies. It was all in her head, but she liked the thought, this warm, solid cowboy between her legs, panting softly as he relaxed in her arms. 

It took them both a while to find the energy to move. Eventually, Frankie gripped the edge of the condom as she lifted off him, flopping onto the bed next to him while he disposed of it. He lay down next to her and she wondered if he’d cuddle her, if he was a cuddler. But he remained flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling as a long, deep sigh escaped him and he put his arm over his eyes. 

Aisling stayed next to him for a while, feeling the shift in the room while Frankie remained silent. The air cooled her skin and a little shiver ran through her and she began to sit up. 

“I’m going to clean up, I’m getting cold,” she mumbled, not looking at the dark haired man who seemed to have closed himself off from her the second he came. But his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back, and suddenly he had her wrapped in his arms, pressed against his chest as he kissed the top of her head. 

“I’m sorry, I got in my head again,” he muttered into her soft hair, “I…it’s been a while since I…I never used to just ‘sleep around’.” 

She could hear the air quotes in his voice and the deep sigh that followed. 

“It’s fine, just enjoy it, Frankie,” Aisling said, her face still resting on his chest while he slowly started stroking his large palms up and down her back, “Sex can make us feel weird afterwards.” 

“Yeah…” he replied in a low voice, “I guess I just wasn’t expecting it to be so…good?” 

At that Aisling giggled, snorting against his warm skin. 

“You came back to my place expecting bad sex? Is that what you’re saying?” She looked up at him and he had a small smile playing around his soft looking lips. 

Frankie chuckled, the same low tone rumbling through him, “No, not bad sex, just…sex with someone for the first time is usually more awkward right? Figuring out what works, what the other person likes, what turns them on, you know.” 

He lifted his eyebrows as he met her look and she realized she could just drown in those soft brown eyes, his face suddenly looking so worried, tugging at her heartstrings. Reaching up she slipped the pad of her thumb over the double worry lines between his eyes, smoothing them out as he smiled. 

“I guess, Frankie, but sometimes it’s just easy, you know? You seemed to know exactly what I liked without even trying.” 

She smiled up at him, still caressing his face, tracing her thumb over his scruffy facial hair. Frankie let his eyes slip closed, pressing his cheek into her warm hand, his mind going quiet again. It had stopped spinning when he’d first pressed his lips to the soft skin of the back of her neck outside the door. Every thought in his head had only been of her while he peeled off her clothes, and then his own, tasting her, touching her and finally letting his orgasm hit. But as he fell back on the bed, it all came back, the din in his head, thoughts pushing in and guilt settled heavily in his gut.

It had never been this easy with Eva, never made him feel like this. Not even when they were actually in love and in the first rosy months of their relationship. Granted, he’d been high as a fucking kite for the earliest period, before he got help and dropped the habit. She’d helped with that though, a lot. She’d been a solid, calming presence back then, but never like this. Eva had never made his head go silent the way Aisling seemed to without even trying, without even knowing about all the shit inside him. 

Now Aisling’s fingers played across his face as she scooted up and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips and he felt the corners of his mouth lift as she bumped her nose against his. 

“I really am getting cold, I’m going to take a shower. You’re welcome to join me, cowboy.” 

“Ok, city slicker,” he replied with a chuckle, letting her pull him off the bed with a grin.

A/N: Please yell at me about how horrible Eva is, I love how everyone instantly hated her😅 But you know, the way I see it, she's seen Frankie at his lowest. She knows what he's like when he's addicted and I think she's just too scared that she'll have a baby with him in New York, he won't be able to handle it and start using again to quieten his mind. And then she'll have to handle a baby on her own, and Frankie with an addiction. I think if things were different, if he didn't have his issues, she'd like to keep the baby and start over with him. What do you think?

And also, I hate saying, but Frankie's a bit of an asshole for sleeping with Aisling and not telling her about Eva... but I made him do it so I can't really say anything! 😬😅

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