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theconstantsidekick · 1 day

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Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (10)

Pairings: Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Genre: Angst with a sprinkle of happiness?

Summary: Goodbyes are a bitch, aren't they? Especially when you the future better than the people in question.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma

a/n: i wrote this before the entire fucking series

“I have been thinking. I do that these days. I think a lot—all the time. You’ll be surprised to hear that it started long before whatever this shitshow was… I have been thinking a lot and I have to tell you, I hate thinking.” Tony’s sitting in his workshop at the compound as a hologram projection of his sister’s recorded message plays in front of him. He watches as she shakes her head with something akin to sorrow.

“It makes me heavy. It bogs me down with the weight of my thoughts—which inevitably turn into feelings. And you—you, Anthony Edward Stark, know better than any man who’s ever lived that my feelings are so. very. big. Humongous. Ginormous. Brobdingnagian.” Y/n laughs then, a broken small little thing, and shifts in her seat where she’s manspreading like she owns whatever place she recorded this message in.

“I think… I think about friendships. I think about you, and Nat, and Rhodey, and Howie, and Maria, and Peggy. Then I think about Thor off in space somewhere. I think about Bruce too and wish he’s miraculously found Thor and is on his way home, hopefully. I think about Sam, I think about Wanda and Vision and Happy and Pep and—it…it makes my heart heavy. Because sometimes I think about family and somehow all the same names pop right back into my head. It makes me feel warm.” She smiles, and his heart—his cheating, broken, angry heart—takes some solace in knowing that at least that was real.

“I remember when Maria handed you to me after she had spent hours screaming for you to just get the hell out of her in that hospital room. I wasn’t in there—in the room, I mean… I was too scared to go in—private moment and all that… Until your father came barging out, all sweaty and scared, like he was about to shit a brick. He walked past me at first but when he did, I got up on my feet and he turned and looked at me and his face went slack. I have never felt that kind of fear. But it was gone as quick as it came cause Howie was shouting at me, asking me where the fuck had I been this entire time while shoving me inside the delivery room. The moment I went in, your mother fucking screamed ‘thank fuck you’re here’! And that was that. If there was a doubt about it before, it was gone now. I was a Stark, through and through. Alien blood be damned. This was my little family.” Her eyes seem misty, Tony notes. She’s all dressed up in a spectacular all-white three-piece suit, with her blazer laid carefully on the back of her seat.

“I held your mother’s hand and watched as the most important person of my life came into existence. We were all crying by then, tears of joy.

“After it was over, she wanted to get some rest. Howard had apparently shat that brick he was so desperately holding onto by his perky asshole and was therefore already deep in slumber… which by the way—typical Howard. So anyway, Maria wanted a well-deserved nap so she handed you off to me. And I will never forget what she said. ‘Look after him, will you?’ It might have been framed as a question, but a question it was not. It was an order, as clear as day, written in blood and tears and leftover placenta liquid.” It makes Tony wonder how many more stories he has yet to hear. He’s known this woman his entire life, quite fucking literally and yet, in moments like these, the moments that matter the most, she always has a new story for him.

“I held you in my arms and I had a purpose. From that point on, I would have a purpose for the rest of my cunty god-forsakenly long life—watch out for you. To have your back, no matter what…” She exhales as her head falls, seemingly too heavy with thoughts for her to carry with any ease at all. “I had a duty of care.”

He watches as she brings her palms over her eyes, pressing them in to try to relieve whatever pain she can… None of it lifts, he knows. He’s speaking from experience.

With a deep breath in, she sits up once again. “I am not telling you all this to say that I would have chosen differently. I wouldn’t have. I never could have, I hope—I just hope one day you can understand why that was. I am, however, telling you all this in some twisted way to explain perhaps? All your life you have been used to the idea of me having your back no matter what happened, and this—this fucking cock boggling mess was the first fucking time I ever faltered. And for that… For that, I am deeply sorry, Anthony. My intention has never been to hurt you, ever. I said a lot of things. Really shitty stuff. I said those things in the heat of the moment—I couldn’t fucking stop it, Stark. I just couldn’t. Try as I might, they kept spilling. Th—there was a fucking hole in my chest, burning and itching and drilling deeper still. I couldn’t control it, it ached and hurt and burnt and I just… I couldn’t stop. Because it was fear. Because I was scared. I was—I still am. I am so fucking scared, Tony. I am always so goddamn scared, you know?” She’s a mumbling crying mess now, and Tony feels like absolute fucking shit.

“The life I had before all this, before you—it was horrid, Tony. It was so bad. I woke up every day hoping it would finally be the day I’d meet the bullet with my name on it and it would be my last. And every fucking day it wasn’t. Which was worse… but it was also better because I didn’t want to die, you know? I didn’t want to die without knowing what it—what it fe—felt like to be happy.

“I kept living in that filth.” There is so much fucking disdain in her voice as she speaks, his own blood starts curdling. “I kept going, kept doing The Orphanage’s dirty work, then I did HYDRA’s dirty work, then I did S.H.I.E.L.D.’s. Because I was scared. And as badly as I wanted to die, I wanted to live way more. I wanted—” She’s out of breath and she looks so fucking distraught, he doesn’t even know how to fucking react. He has never seen her like this. Years and years of living with his sister, an entire life’s worth of memories, and never did he know she was hurting this badly… How the fuck did he not know?

“I just wanted to live. I wanted to escape… one day. And back then, when I was in the fucking thick of it, it never felt like I could. You have to understand, up to that point, I had lived my entire life in what was the equivalent of one fucking jail cell after another. Never in my wildest dreams did I even think of having a room with a window, let alone a view. Even when I thought of it all ending—when I thought of my freedom, I thought of the ways I could hide, of where I could get passports, of what supplies I would need while being on the run from whatever organization had control of me at that time. I just wanted to own myself—and that would have been freedom enough.”

She composes herself.

“So, when you came to me with all your, honestly, very good intentions of getting us to sign the accords I was—” Her composer slacks, “I was back there again! I was back in a small tiny room, with an open fucking toilet and a bed that made you want to sleep on the floor. I was back to being controlled and tortured and experimented upon and I was back to being played with like a goddamn machine!” She’s almost pleading now, tears running down her face.

“I would do anything for you, Tony. You have to know that.” There is a seriousness in her words that scare the shit out of him, cause she says, “I would do anything for you. You want the world? It’s yours. I will burn it to the ground if you asked me to, not even question it. You want it whole and pure? I will conquer it for you in a fortnight. But–but,” she breaks once again, “But I couldn’t—I cannot do this. I cannot go back.” She wipes away her tears.

“I have tasted freedom now. I didn’t know how sweet it was before. I didn’t know what it felt like to have a family, to have friends who love me. I didn’t know what it was like to have a room with a view… I didn’t know what it felt like to have a choice. I can’t give it up now, Tony. Please, you have to understand, I can’t. I can’t go back. Please.” She’s fucking begging him now, she’s so desperate that it rips him apart. Is this what went on in her head when he talked about it all? She seems so fragile and afraid… he did this to her? He wasn’t aiming for this. He was never aiming for this. He just wanted to make up for his sins but… at this cost? At her cost?

“You know why I got the cruelest fucking missions they had? The ones that would rot you from the inside out? Cause they knew my past. They’d see my record, and they’d send me off to missions that were soul-sucking, motherfucking shit that made me puke my guts out the moment I was in the clear. Because jobs that filthy belong to people of filth. I got the jobs that couldn’t be done by someone with a soul, done by a man who was whole. It didn’t matter if it was The Orphanage, HYDRA, or even S.H.I.E.L.D. I got the soulless job because they knew I never had one, to begin with…”

Fuck him.

He’s the most selfish asshole out there.

She exhales then… a pause, a beat, and a moment of soft introspection. He can practically pinpoint the moment she decides to compose herself. It happens between the nervous bite of her lip and her jaw clicking in place. He knows her at least that well…

She sits up straight. “But that was then, and this is now. Now I have. Now I want. I won’t even let anyone touch my freedom, not even in death.” She clicks her tongue. “So it just makes me think, you know? I think about things like this. About you and your parents, and my friends—my family. I think about them. I think about these things when I wake up, when I fight, when I dream. All that is to say… I’m not callous about this life. I am not callous about the decision I made. It weighs on me heavier than you know. It wretches me apart, with every breath…”

He doesn’t want to hear the part that comes next.

“But—but I can’t stay, Tony. You know I can’t… and for that too, I am sorry.”

He’s never really spent a day in his life when he couldn’t reach out to his sister. He’s a fairly old dude, so you have to pardon him if he’s quite scared of it. He doesn’t know how to do it. He just doesn’t.

“I didn’t know about Barnes. Fuck, I didn’t have the faintest clue. And I absolutely did not know about that traitorous bastard who I won’t even dignify by naming. I—” Her fist clenches as she brings it up to cover her mouth. Her anger is so fucking palpable that Tony thinks he might just be able to sense it, that is until the footage starts glitching and he realizes, it’s cause her anger is making her emanate power. He thought he could hear static because there is fucking static, it is coming from her. She’s trying to calm herself down.

She breathes in, the footage settling. “He doesn’t matter,” She says with cold unfocused eyes and he can see how deep that secret has dung into her. “This isn’t about him. This is… this is about me, pleading with you, urging you to—to” she pauses, long and hard, with a small smile on her face. It’s the same one she wears when she knows she’s about to do something profoundly fucking stupid. Consider Tony terri-fucking-fied. “This is me urging you to, at a much later date in life—try and forgive Sergeant Barnes.”

“Woman, have you gone fucking crazy?!?!! Did you hit your fucking head when you decided TO DROP A BUILDING ON US?!” Tony knows he’s screaming at a holographic projection but it’s not for naught.

Because his sister is waving away his screams with an annoyed face, “Don’t fucking freak the fuck out. Just like, listen to me! TONY!” His tirade stops. She—her recording, somehow just knows. Cause then she exhales. “I am not saying now, and I am certainly not saying you have to. I am just pleading with you to consider it… Because—well because there are countless people out there in the world who…” she bites her lip. “I am to them what Barnes is to you. Except, unlike me, Sergeant Barnes never even had the chance to rebel, he was brainwashed and tortured, and broken down to be used.” And before Tony can begin to protest, her hands fly up to stop him. “That was all I wanted to say about that. I am done, the decision is completely up to you. Just you, and there is absolutely no right answer, just the one you choose. This was just…” she smiles, “something for you to think about.”

He can’t help the corner of his mouth from curling a little as well.

She kicks back then, hands crossed in front of her as she looks around wherever she is. “That, yeah. I think that was my grand speech. I know it feels like I’m leaving you behind somehow, but I promise you I am not. I’m just a… actively hunted fugitive of the state.” She shakes her head from side to side in consideration before adding, “And I have a few dues to pay… I’ll be back once they are cleared.”

She looks up at him then. It almost feels like she’s in the room with him.

“But no matter what happens, I’m here, Tony. You know how to reach me. And I will always come when you call. I will always be there for you. Even if you don’t see me there, trust me. I am there. I will always have your back.”

Something catches her eye, she pulls out her phone and checks it.

Rolling her eyes, she pockets the device and looks back up at the camera.

“Ugh, yeah. I think our time here is up…” She finally smiles, happy and true. “You just pulled in, so I gotta run.”

WAIT, WHAT??

HE JUST PULLED IN?

TO WHERE?!!

He runs back to his station, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. run diagnostics on the recording, analyze it top to bottom, tell me where it was taken.”

Meanwhile, he watches as his sister stands up.

“I love you, kiddo. And I’m always right behind you.”

More commotion on the recording as F.R.I.D.A.Y. responds, “Sir, the footage was taken here, at the Avenger’s compound.”

“That cocky bitch,” Tony curses, almost in awe of her. Cause fuck! Even Rogers had the good sense to courier his fucking apology. What was this woman thinking? “Tell me when F.R.I.D.A.Y.!”

He watches as his sister puts on her blazer and fixes up her suit.

“17 minutes ago, sir,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answers.

“WHAT?!”

“There was a gap in the security footage, it was cloned to play in a loop. It’s almost seamless sir, except this,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. presents the footage on the screen in front of him.

Meanwhile, the hologram of his sister walks up close to the camera and leans down to look at it face-to-face. She presses a kiss to her fingers and presses the fingers to the camera.

“See you, space cowboy.” With that, the holograph is gone.

Tony falls onto his chair in complete surprise and an unwitting smile on his face, as he watches his sister on the CCTV footage waving at him with a wink.

“That fucking—”

Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

tag list: @aryksworld @freeflyingphoenix @arikarapli @just-anotherstan @justab-eautifulmess @ceo-of-daichi @roxannejblack @liketearsintherainn @paintballkid711 @starkleila @heyitsmereading @fairlygothparents @euphoria-svt @sidepartskinnyjeans @mini-kunoichi @third-broparcelicito @siwiecola @haleybutnotthecomet @mvaldez7821 @iamspeed16 @ashpeace888 @hopeofwinter @percabethfangirl987 @lilfuturescars @hailqueenconquer

i post at weird times, please join the tag list to get notified. DMs are open

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meownotgood · 9 months

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I love aki so much... I love everything about him... all of his positives and all of his flaws... I love his selflessness and his weakness, his kindness and his gentleness despite everything. he has given up so much yet all he has to give is love. he makes me feel soft and persistently warm, he is so unbelievably easy to adore

#my silly guy. my sweetest soft spot #he's done so much for me #silly stupid fucking idiot doesn't know how fiercely I care for him #look at him. moron #never wanted to hold and be held by a character in my entire life #or by anyone. for that matter #TOPKNOT MAN. THANK YOU FOR SHOWING ME LOVE #THANK YOU FOR SHOWING ME HOW TO HEAL #NOW. LET ME BITE YOU

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sorrowfulrosebud · 6 months

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Katsuki fumbled as the heavy wooden door of your mansion was nearly slammed in his face, you being the cause. Your infuriated strides didn’t stop as you reached the kitchen.

Katsuki felt his eyes burn and bile rise in his throat as he tried desperately to reach you.

“Baby, please! It was one time, and I didn’t even kiss her-,” he rambles worriedly, taking a step aback as you turn around.

Your eyes held nothing but pure fire and pain.

“Oh my FUCKING GOD Katsuki! You didn’t kiss her?! Oh that’s just wonderful, I totally forgive you for going behind my FUCKING BACK and fucking other women! That makes everything okay now!” You cry? Laugh? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Katsuki winces at your tears, pearly streaks of his own staining his cheeks. He reaches for you, heart breaking when you flinch away from him.

“Baby-,” he starts.

“Don’t you fucking DARE call me that you disloyal bastard,” you sob.

“I gave you my EVERYTHING, you son of a bitch! The nights I spent slaving over that fucking stove so YOU wouldn’t go hungry! I broke my back cleaning this fucking house, I give up my social life so we can be together, I bust my fucking ass doing stuff in bed I don’t want to do, ALL FOR YOU! I gave you EVERYTHING! So don’t you fucking dare try and have some balls now.” You sob through gritted teeth.

Katsuki sinks to his knees, openly sobbing and grabbing your hands. You tried forcing them back, but his grip was relentless. He pressed tearful kisses to your hands, amplifying your pained sobs.

“(Y/N), please! It was the worst mistake of my entire fucking life, of OUR lives. It was an act of stupidity, and if I could go back in time I would kill past me for even looking at her. It’s YOU I love, not her. It’s you, it’s always been you,” he gasped for breath, looking up at you. You paused.

“AAAAAAAND CUT! That was a great take everyone, go grab some lunch and be back in an hour to continue the shoot,” the director shouts, hopping off his pedestal.

You wiped your tears off, cursing the added tear stick as you laughed.

“Jesus Christ, that was a rough scene. How are you, baby?” You look down at him. Your smile was warm, a complete contrast to the character in the series you were acting in. Katsuki made no move to wipe his tears.

He rose slowly, before wrapping his arms around you tightly. He sniffled as he held you as close as possible, kissing the side of your face.

“Baby, are you alright? It was just a scene!” You giggle, kissing him on the forehead.

“If I ever make you sad like that, I need you to kill me. I would rather die than make you cry the way you just did,” he sniffed, wiping his nose and holding your cheeks.

“Aw sweetie. I know you’d never cheat on me. I love you so, so, so much. I guess we just did too good a job acting,” you giggle. You pull him in closer for a kiss, wiping his tears and playing with his baby hairs.

“I love you so much. Never ever forget that,” he says firmly. You nod, before squeezing out of his grip and tapping his ass playfully.

“Of course angel, now let’s get lunch. Sato made enchiladas and I’m craving them so badly,” you kiss him again. Katsuki’s phone beeped, and he checked before grimacing slightly.

“I’ll be right there babe, Eijiro’s complaining about something,” he says, squeezing your sides and sending you off.

You’re so fucking right, baby. He thought. His chest bloomed in pain. Ochaco’s bunched up tits stared right back at him in picture form, taunting him.

I did too good of an acting job.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader angst #bakugou angst Drabble #MHA x reader angst #bnha x reader angst #actor au #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou x reader angst

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anantaru · 7 months

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DAY 27 — PRAISING

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — neuvillette, dainsleif, xiao, zhongli

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, praise kink, i missed writing lovey dovey stuff, love sick characters, slow sex and very cute, petnames used: love, darling

𖧡 — NEUVILLETTE

the desire emanating out of neuvillette whenever he made love to you never caused this much of an arising storm deep inside of him, it has never been this violent either— because listen closely now, when he took in your hot heaves that lingered over his rosy cheeks, the want for you consumed him in one quick bite, it transformed him.

at this moment in time, when becoming one with you, when feeling your warmth radiate across his skin had created an almost unbearable emotion totally unique and new to him, stubbornly manifested itself innermost his heart and lungs where it cannot, for even a second, be cast aside or the man will simply fall apart.

"ah— you're beautiful," he whispers into your skin, his fingers admiring the curves of your body, "you're incomparable," and it was welcomed, when neuvillette slid his mouth over your jaw and mouths the wet spots, his hips falling in tandem with your core jolting up to meet him halfway, "—you're spectacular, my love, my darling," as he slowly, curves one palm against your cheek, eyes slowly meeting big and bright, looking empty but revealing so much when he held you close.

"you are breathtaking."

his eyes devoured you again, you can feel it, taste it and sense it when his hips increased, and so did the buzzing slaps of skin colliding against skin— while unsurprisingly, eliciting a sweet noise from you when he surges his body against yours more passionately, his hips working in a steady, slow rhythm so that he was sure he could indulge in all of you, his cock snugly pinned inside of your warm body with the mass of muscle in your walls engulfing him entirely as neuvillette groans into your lips in trembling.

your passionate love— it could set the world aflame, burning like an uncontrollable wildfire, consuming everything in its path and whenever he found himself in your innocent embrace, your spine arching up at him when your frame holds onto the twitches of overstimulation, he found solace and a dwelling haven from the entanglement of his past in the purest, most innocent kinds of loves.

𖧡 — DAINSLEIF

"i love you today, tomorrow, and i will love you forever,"

"—and your heart is mine, mine, mine," dainsleif's mind blanks and for the very first time in his life he could say that he had madly fallen in love with another human being— and he flips back and forth between astonishment, nervousness on not knowing on how to tackle those new emotions and then playfulness, before running back to astonishment again.

but the man loved the view in front of him right now, he would love to capture it with a camera or visualize it before storing it into the deepest parts of his brain. dainsleif cannot stop himself from placing pleasure on you, to say the least, and how your spine bend ever so sinfully when he had you on all fours and smoothly guided his length in so you could feel and taste him— with your ass perked up until his fingers roll over the skin to rest against the hot flesh to keep you close.

for a moment, he drapes himself over your body, his tongue warm and slick against your shoulder, "i wish i could look at you right now," he admits, and everything he did felt good on your body, nothing could compare to the sensation whenever he made love to you.

forevermore, it would always overwhelm your body and guide you towards a sweet rhythm of his hips leisurely rocking back and forth against your plush ass.

but he couldn't stop, so he utters, yet not before nibbling on your skin once more, "—watch how your face changes," and granted, dainsleif could fulfill his own wish in the blink of an eye, yet he prefers to stay in this position for now, for some reason he had become utterly obsessed with it, or how well you clenched down on him or your squealing hiccups that fell on deaf ears every time he shoot his dripping erection back inside.

dainsleif just needed it all, yearned for you his entire life, because the love between you had manifested itself into nothing short but eternal tenderness and warmth, even transcending through space and time.

𖧡 — XIAO

"you're welcome to always stay here, if you so wish,"

xiao whispers to you in a frail note that a swirl shudders down your spine, his voice remaining soft and encouraging with his warm kisses all planted on top of your forehead as he slowly grinds himself into your heat— this time, not upraising the tempo but rather focusing on nudging his tip over the smarting segments battered on your walls.

"and when you call my name," he pauses, "it is you and me."

as you saw it, this moment in time seemed to have stopped rotating, entirely held back to a stand still, the dimly lid bedroom adept with hot, shielding air that accompanied every action like that of being trapped inside of a hot summer day inside a loop, with the difference being that the humidity was surprisingly comforting, soul touching and the transition in your traces had become almost unbearable— with xiao taking his good time with you, your palms reaching over to cup his face while his mouth parts, subtle grunts and breathless moans lingering around him.

xiao would always cherish the bittersweet moments with you, his beautiful princess, thinking that your laughs and kisses together were limited, and it frankly wouldn't even matter on how many times you would attempt to make him aware that you'd never leave him in a million years— a darkness had still continuously altered his mind.

regardless of such, in under a dime xiao had you breathless under him, the air feeling stubbornly hot when he gyrates his hips into your cunt with his body pressed tightly against yours, guiding his cock skillfully in and out as he slants forward and breathes in the little sobs and cries that spill from your pouty lips.

𖧡 — ZHONGLI

"speak to me, love," zhongli voices his unwavering need against your pouty lips as his warm pants wrap around your skin with ease, "tell me how it feels," and his voice was so unbelievably reassuring that you're instantly convinced to cry out his name with pleading eyes, his warmth heavy and suffocating between your thighs and making you feel so good.

"i love you," you hiccup sweetly, taking his face in your hands as you squeal a little at his obvious, quite sizable shaft reaching in and out of your ribbed walls, the sound of your pussy splitting apart was deafening as his length was beginning to shine with your arousal, the position providing enough relief to leave you vulnerable and speechless.

"my love," zhongli breaks his words over two broken groans, "my heart will always call out your name, you're beautiful," and something about this current situation was so sensual, so personal and erotic that you felt as if someone squeezed your lungs together, your mind solely focused on what was going on where you were lining up together, namely that sweet and punctuated pressure between your legs, how deliciously good it felt the more he filled you up.

your love was so soulful, intertwining your spirits in an unbreakable bond, it's crazy and zhongli cannot even fathom on how lucky he was to experience this after all of his suffering. he went on, nudging his erection around the walls of skin and branding himself on it— your thighs, as a result, closing around him as he fastens his sensual grinds.

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auteurdelabre · 18 days

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Please, Mister Miller? SERIES FINALE

rating: 18+ GET OUTTA HERE YOUNGIN'S!

words: 13.5k

tags: none. Don't want any spoilers for this chapter!

a/n: Y'all this entire series started with me wanting to try my hand at writing pwp with a despicable lead character. It morphed into a story of finding love in the most unexpected places and the pain that comes with infidelity. It was a challenge for me to do a believable character arc for them, to get you to root for them, to make you feel for them. It was a delight to read your input, your suggestions and to see how invested y'all became. So this is my love letter to you, hopefully a fitting final chapter for these two horny idiots.

love, Emma

ppppsssssstttttt if you wanna be nice and send a broke writer some cash because you like her writing and her stories, the paypal addy is [email protected] because ko-fi is givin me a headache.

The End with Mister Miller

In September the leaves fall in Central Park, brown, lifeless and curled into themselves. You think you recognize that in them. That dead, emptiness, the need to pull into yourself and wither away.

Life doesn’t feel real anymore.

It hasn’t since August.

Without him (you won’t allow yourself to think of his name) life seems slow and hazy. Like walking through the world with a headache. Things blur and ripple and don’t seem particularly real.

School is the only thing that saves you. A chance to focus all your attention on something that isn’t him and his beautiful face, and soft curls and sweet mouth. Something that isn’t his muscled arms holding you as he slides between your legs to bring you pleasure. Something that isn’t his voice in your ear whispering how much he loves you.

You think you will mourn Joel for years. You will wear black and trudge from place to place, looking down in the mouth with red-rimmed eyes and a gaping hole where your heart used to be.

No, don’t even think his name.

School is papers and tests and online discussion groups. You throw yourself into the academic life, your essays are well received, your professors are impressed and your peers find you likeable during zoom classes. You enjoy being the one with the answers in this space because outside of it you have none.

How did it go so wrong? How are you not with him in his arms right now? How can you get Sarah to forgive you when she’s blocked you on everything? How can you survive another month without him? Without holding his hand in yours? Without feeling the rumble of his laugh along your back as he held you?

New York is a good place for the lonely hearts though. It’s a big, unforgiving city that doesn’t give a fuck if you live or die. The city doesn’t care if you struggle to pay your rent and go to school at the same time. The city devours as much as it gives. It’s cold and unforgiving to transient residents, to those looking for anonymity within its concrete jungle. And you relish that. You like that no one knows you, that you can disappear into a crowd, that no one cares.

You deserve that.

You helped break up a marriage. You broke your best friend’s heart. You broke broke broke. You stole what wasn’t yours and you relished in it. You fucked him in every inch of that house and you rejoiced in a love that was never yours to have.

Your apartment is cramped, shared with two other girls who work more hours than they spend inside. You don’t care, you don’t deserve friends. You want the only true friend you ever had to be back in your life. But that won’t happen.

Food is bland, the sporadic sunshine days meaningless, your existence a joke.

And it doesn’t get better for a while.

///

October is much of the same.

///

By November your savings are quickly being drained. The money from scholarships enough to keep you afloat at school but not enough to pay rent which has just been increased. You get a second overnight job at a convenience store to go along with your part time work at the coffee shop by your apartment. You work late into the night, early into the mornings, you write, you study, you collapse into a fitful sleep and then you repeat.

You have enough for little luxuries, things like the shampoo you always favored. The one that he once told you smelled like Christmas as he trailed his hands through your tresses, watching you read on his lap with eyes so soft you sighed.

Food still tastes bland so you don’t bother with fancy things. You keep things cheap so you don’t run out of money. You eat packaged pasta, noodles, soups. You’re bloated, your eyes swollen from the salt and your tears. You still cry.

You don’t know if you ever stopped.

You touch yourself to memories of Joel fleetingly. You rarely orgasm. Arousal seems to be missing from most of your days. As if without Joel all the sensations that once brought you joy have been drained from your body, replaced with a poison that turns everything shades of grey.

You don’t let yourself think about him. But one day he makes himself known. A simple e-mail sent from an address you don’t recognize. The message is short, simple and devastating.

Before I die I want to hold Snowflake one last time.

You’ve deleted his phone number. Blocked his e-mail address from Miller Construction. But this wasn’t on your radar. You hadn’t thought of the ways he could circumvent your pathetically inadequate system.

You don’t write back. You can’t. It won’t solve anything. Sarah is still there at his place. You know from stalking her public Instagram from a brand new account. She looks happy, does outfit of the day videos, makes lots of posts about missing Charlie. But the story videos you watch again and again are the ones she films at home. The ones of her sitting with a bowl of popcorn on her lap, a movie in the background. A large masculine hand- Joel’s- reaches for a handful. You read the hashtag. #mydadpickstheworstmovies

You remember those nights. That couch, that television. You remember evenings curled up against Joel laughing into his shoulder at something funny on the screen. You remember giggling with Sarah in that room about secretly dating Charlie.

You’re happy to see her wither her father, to know that things have been mended. There is no awkwardness, no strange energy. It’s like they’ve always been – best buddies. It warms you, it brings tears of joy to your cheeks. It’s what you’d wanted, what you’d dreamed of. It’s not quite like you and Joel never happened, but its close enough.

A story pops up when you’re falling asleep one evening, eyes heavy with fatigue. Sarah is walking in the kitchen, humming about what to make for dinner when the camera catches Joel walking into the kitchen, looking at his camera and giving a soft, subtle smile.

“What are you watchin’ old man?” Sarah croons off-screen, zooming in on his face. “More tile orders?”

Joel glances up from his phone, gaze glossy. He sees the camera and gives an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Get that damn camera outta my face,” Joel chides with an embarrassed smile. He flips his phone over and you let out a shocked gasp.

To anyone else it would look innocuous, but you can see in that flash of pixels that he was looking at a photo of you. The one from your date night where you posed in front of the I Love you So Much mural.

You re-watch that one over and over until it expires.

But you don’t write to him. You can’t. You know it would take just the sound of his voice to have you jumping a plane and meeting him in some dark hotel. Not just for the fucking, but for the way he felt wrapping his arms around you, how his mouth slotted gently, how he smelled and tasted and felt like safety.

You never had that before.

You may never again.

Your parents haven’t reached out to you since graduation. You know they never will. Your parents are stubborn – especially your father. They will force you to make it on your own; there will be no financial bail outs or sporadic gifts in the mail. They don’t even know you’ve moved to New York. No one does. You don’t upload to your socials anymore.

And a year ago that would have terrified you, but now? It buoys you. It makes you feel strong. It makes you feel independent. You’ve done this all on your own and you’re surviving. It’s hard but you’re doing it. You don’t need anyone.

In mid-November during a gloomy day a young man asks you out as you walk to the subway. He’s seen you in the coffee shop you work at and he thinks you’re pretty. He’s cute in a wide-eyed, sweet dimpled smile kind of way. Not the right kind of dimple, though. Not the right eyes, or height or hair. His hands aren’t calloused, his neck not long, his shoulders not broad.

He’s not him.

You turn him down kindly, watching curiously when the smile leaves his face and he calls you a dumb bitch. You just shrug, no longer caring what the opposite sex thinks of you. You don’t care what anyone else thinks of you, only the two people back on Rancher Street.

You walk home from work the following week, feet sore from your back to back shifts. It’s late, the sky drizzling and in your hand you carry the plastic bag from the closest bodega. It holds only a few loose packets of instant noodles.

You’re traipsing down one of the snooty streets as you call them. The ones with high end restaurants and lounges that your parents could easily afford. You gaze down at the approaching puddles, wondering how long it’ll be before the snow arrives. You almost bump into the figure that’s come to a sudden stop in front of you.

You raise your head, about to sneer up at the obvious tourist when a familiar set of light eyes gaze back down at you, an umbrella hoisted gently above her head.

“Tess?”

She looks amazing. Her hair is cut to just below her ears, her skin glowing. She’s dressed similarly to how she was when you knew her – professional, tailored.

You on the other hand have gained weight, your face swollen with tears and sodium, your clothing bland and dark. The drizzling rain has made your hair stick unflattering to your face and you wish you were anywhere else.

“Hello,” she says sharply, her smile a false one.

She’s alone, no one walks with her. She looks like she just left a meeting. Your cheeks burn in humiliation at the memory of your last encounter.

“What are you doing in New York?”

“Marketing symposium,” she answers, her eyes scanning you over obviously.

“Oh.”

You have nothing else to offer. Someone bumps into you as they pass, the sidewalks quickly filling up. It’s New York after work after all, you’re surprised a rat hasn’t skittered over your feet at this point.

“I never pictured Joel as a New York kinda guy,” she offers. “Seemed like a Texas boy through and through.”

Joel.

You haven’t heard his name in so long that the sound of it makes you wince.

“We uh. . . We aren’t… Sarah found out,” you blurt, surprising yourself.

Tess blinks in surprise before she nods slowly, her eyes scanning you as you squirm on the cement. People continue to mill around you, but all you feel is you and her locked in this moment, she shielded by her umbrella and you exposed.

“She took it badly then?”

“Yeah. Really bad.”

You wish she would just walk on by. That she would let you shuffle to your shitty apartment with its cracked walls and peeling paint so you can heat up your instant noodles and fall asleep to the soundtrack of your own sobs.

“It’s what you deserve,” she says tightly. “The pair of you.”

“I know.”

You wait for her to give a polite nod and shoulder by you, but instead she seems to scrutinize your face further. You feel it, even as your eyes drop to her expensive looking shoes.

“Let’s get a drink.”

Your eyes dart from her shoes up to her face, confused to see no guile there. There’s no kindness or softness either. It’s an offer, but not one from a friend.

You shift your plastic bag from one hand to the other awkwardly. You don’t know how to tell this woman that you’re broke. That after this bag of instant noodles you have nothing until your paycheck on Friday.

You don’t want her to know how pathetic your life is. Her light eyes dart from your face to the bag and the items inside. She tips her head towards the lounge across the street.

“I’m paying. Let’s go.”

///

“A Chardonnay for me.”

Tess tilts back in her red leather chair, crossing her long legs over one another after she orders. With her jacket off you can see she’s got a tight dress on and she’s obviously been working out. She’s always been a beautiful woman, but tonight she looks like a bombshell. She and the waiter look at you expectantly as the other patrons buzz around.

“I’m good with water.”

“She’ll have a Chardonnay as well,” Tess smiles up at the server. “And a plate of gyoza bites.”

The man nods, leaving the two of you to sit across from one another awkwardly. You’re still wearing your jacket, your bag of noodles in a crumple at your feet.

You think you must stick out like a sore thumb in this high-end lounge with its soft jazz music and sleek tables. The place is dimly lit with opulent chandeliers hanging from the high roof, shiny black veined marble floors and collection of upper echelon clientele in suits and well-tailored dresses. You feel so out of place in your jeans and you wonder if that’s why Tess chose it.

You can’t say you’d blame her.

The waiter returns with your wine glasses and appetizer, telling Tess to let him know if she needs anything else. He doesn’t even spare a glance in your direction. Tess takes a sip of wine as you play with the stem of yours.

“Why him?”

Tess’s eyes are fixed sharply on yours when you finally lift your gaze to hers.

“Huh?”

“Why Joel?” Tess repeats and there’s genuine curiosity in her gaze.

You weigh what you want to say, aware that what you admit could hurt her further. But then again what could hurt her more than what you’ve already done?

“Because my boyfriend had just dumped me and I felt like shit,” you say with a croak. “And when I saw Joel… I dunno… He was so beautiful and kind and funny and a good dad. . . and it was this instantaneous thing. And I think in my own insecure way I wanted to prove I was worth something. That I was still desirable.”

You break off, feeling your cheeks heat. Its one things to admit these things to yourself, quite another to admit them to the woman whose husband you seduced.

“You need to know it wasn’t like Joel was trying to get me into bed. It was all me from the start.”

“I don’t think he was fighting too hard,” Tess rolls her eyes in a way that makes you feel small.

“I think it was that he liked feeling desired.”

“I thought he was desirable,” Tess interjects.

“I don’t know that he knew that,” you wince with a shrug. You shift in your seat, feeling her gaze heavily upon you. “He uh… He kinda made it seem like maybe you didn’t really express that to him.”

“Maybe I didn’t,” Tess offers softly as she glances out the window at the darkening street. You take a long sip from your wine before continuing.

“He said you wanted kids at first and then didn’t,” you offer. “Can I ask why?”

Tess moves her eyes from the window back to you. Her jaw clicks as she considers her next words.

“I thought that the whole motherhood thing was for me, I really did,” Tess says, popping another gyoza bite into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “And Joel is the perfect Dad… Really perfect. Like, he loved helping Sarah with homework and taking her to the park and even making her soup when she had the flu.”

You try not to smile in memory of that side to Joel. That sweetly nurturing part. Tess on the other hand looks perplexed, her shaking lightly.

“The longer I was with him, the more I could see that he was just made for parenthood. Made to take care and protect, like it’s in his DNA. He loves to love. And I think I realized I wasn’t like that. I like my job and I didn’t realize how much I like my own independence. And I thought that Sarah and our love was enough, but . . . " Tess sighs. "I don’t know that Joel ever really loved me.”

“Of course he did. I know he did.”

Tess smiles at your emphatic response.

“I wanted to get married, he wanted more kids and we were of a certain age. It wasn't that unending spark and flame, it was the kind of comfortable fire that keeps your feet warm, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod anyway.

“Anyway...” Tess shrugs, trailing off as she spears a gyoza with her fork. She munches thoughtfully before chasing it with another sip of her wine. Yours is still mostly full, sweating in the glass.

“Tess, what did Joel tell you that day? The day at the hotel?”

The day Tess caught you in his lap, writhing and begging for Joel to come in you. The beginning of the end. Tess looks mollified for a moment and you immediately regret asking her to go back to that ugly memory.

“You don’t have to say-“

Tess leans back in her chair, mouth pursed as she looks into middle distance. You can tell that she’s replaying that moment, that time.

“Honestly we cried a lot, together. Joel never really cries so it surprised me. He apologized over and over for not ending things with me earlier. I think it would have been different if we’d hated one another, easier maybe,” Tess takes a deep steadying breath, looking not at your face but your ear.

“Then he told me that he was in love with you, never felt that way before, blah blah blah. I told him it was a midlife crisis, he told me it wasn’t. It went back and forth like that a few times. I was convinced it was the sex. That he was just wanting someone shiny and new. But. . . that’s never been Joel’s M.O. He’s never been that guy. I still don’t think he’s that guy, despite everything.”

Tess shifts, taking a sip of her wine. This entire experience is surreal. From the way you’re talking to one another to the way you sit like old friends at the narrow table. She waves off the server who attempts to take the now empty dishes away.

“Then he told me the same things you did. That it would break Sarah’s heart if she found out that way. Then he told me he would give me whatever I wanted. The house. His truck. His shares in Miller Construction. Anything if it meant I wouldn’t say anything to Sarah.”

Your brows rise, you had no idea about that.

“I said that I would let him keep it all. The house, the shares, everything, and that I would never tell Sarah if he did just one thing for me.” Tess gives a weak smile. “If he just broke it off with you right then and there.”

You stomach sinks, your skin going clammy as if you’re right back there in that hotel room bathroom, cringing as you pray Tess doesn’t realize it’s you who’s just come on her husband’s lap.

Why did Joel never tell you this?

“He said he couldn’t do it,” Tess says softly, and she shifts back in her chair, legs crossing the other way. She has an almost amused look on her beautiful face, as if she still doesn’t believe it months later.

“He said he’d give me anything else, but that. That he couldn’t give you up. That he was so in love with you that he would give me anything I wanted, except for that.”

You close your eyes, needing to ground yourself for a moment. This is all new information, private information that was never meant for your ears. But it makes the ache for Joel grow stronger, the desire to see him, to hold him, just one more time.

Tears begin at your waterline and you force them back. You finally crack your eyes open and see Tess staring back at you.

“You didn’t take any of those things.”

“No,” Tess shakes her head, looking into her now emptied wine glass. “I didn’t.”

“Why?”

Tess gives a sigh, stretching her back as she shrugs.

“I have money; I have rental property in Illinois. I didn’t need his stuff. And it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because the one thing I wanted he couldn’t give me.”

You’re quiet, waiting. The waiter comes over with the bill, discreetly slipping it onto the table and walking on.

“I wanted him devastated," Tess continues. "I wanted him to wake up every day cursing that he ever cheated on me, sobbing, tearing his hair out, regretting every moment,” Tess says with an almost sinister curl of her lips.

“But that could never happen because he had you. I knew that if he had you there was no chance of him ever being anything other than content.”

You swallow the tears that burn your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell Sarah then?”

For the first time since you’ve sat down Tess looks hurt, almost wounded.

“Because I know how she idolized her father. I couldn’t be the person to knock him off that pedestal for her. It would make me cruel and one thing you were right about is that I’m not a cruel person.”

But you are.

You’re cruel.

You knocked her father from that pedestal without care. You took and took and while you have hints you don’t even know how their relationship is faring. Has Sarah truly forgiven him?

“Well at the end of the day you were dealt the best hand,” you muse, taking your wine glass and motioning towards her. “You’re beautiful, you have money, you’re-“

“-Consistently worried that any man I date will cheat on me,” Tess finishes for you. “You know how many second dates I’ve turned down because I’m sure that I’m terrified of being hurt again?”

And there it is; the realization that even after this apology, even after this talk, the damage you have caused with your actions will never truly go away. They will linger like a scar on flesh – faded but a forever reminder. This breaks your heart and you push the tears from your eyes before they can fall.

“I don’t know how to properly explain how sorry I am, Tess. You never deserved anything like it. I wish … I wish you could punish me somehow,” you say, swallowing thickly. “Like punch me or. . . Something. I deserve it.”

“I think you’re being punished worse than anything I could ever dream up.” Tess signs the receipt, her signature narrow and cramped. “Being apart from the person you love? That's a different kind of pain.”

This is the first time that Tess has really recognized that you and Joel love each other. That it isn’t a fucking and forgetting kind of relationship. That you love him as much as he loves you and that this is a devastation you can’t seem to move on from. This is what makes the tears slip down your nose, head lowered.

You see Tess push a napkin across the table to you. You take it gratefully, dabbing at your eyes and under your nose.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you ask through sniffles. “I ruined your marriage. I was… I was horrible.”

“Yes, you were,” Tess nods, taking a long sip of her wine. “And I’ll never forgive you for it. What you did was completely fucked up and selfish. You helped to break up my marriage.”

You want to curl into your shell. You want to run and hide from her scorn and her judgement. But something keeps you there, almost like you want to be punished. You want her to lay into you with her sharp eyes and sharper words.

“But Joel was right in a lot of ways that night," Tess says lightly. "Our marriage didn’t work like we wanted. And while it will never make what you did okay, it does allow me a chance to go out and find someone who actually wants me, who wants the same things as me.”

“Joel wanted you,” you tell her even though it hurts.

“Not enough,” Tess says with her mouth a grim line. “Not as much as he wanted you.”

You don’t say anything to that; you just trace the stem of your wineglass slowly.

“You know, I thought this would be more satisfying,” Tess observes after a beat. “Seeing you broken, knowing that Joel is probably ten times worse. But it’s not. I just feel sad for you. You’re so young and you’ve gotten into such a mess.”

You watch her place her wallet back into her purse.

“And for what?” she scoffs. “A guy you can’t even sleep with anymore.”

“He was more than that to me,” you explain, finger twisting. “I… I’ve just never loved someone before. Not like that. Never felt love like that. Never felt seen by anyone before Joel, not since Heather.”

“Heather?”

You think about telling Tess about your sister. Explaining that aside from Heather love always came with strings back in your house. But you think it would be a disservice to this entire exchange. That she would think you were sourcing pity.

“It doesn’t matter. I just . . . I just don’t think I’ll ever find love like that again.”

Tess sighs, sucking her teeth lightly.

“Maybe you should be with Joel, maybe you shouldn’t. Back at the hotel I thought it was insane but now? Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Doesn’t really matter does it?” you exhale with a soft laugh to cover the pain. “It’s over.”

“Because of Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

“So talk to Sarah.”

Tess stands next to the table now, purse over her shoulder. You glance up at her, brows furrowed.

“I can’t. She’s got me blocked on everything.”

You’re confused to see Tess smirking down at you.

“Back in my day if we wanted to contact someone we sent a letter.”

///

Dear Sarah,

I don’t even know how to start this. I mean, even as I’m sitting here I’m thinking of all the reasons why I don’t deserve you to give me the time of day. If you’d done the same with my father and helped to contribute to the end of a marriage I’d think the worst of you too.

I saw someone today who encouraged me to write to you. To let you know my side of things. I know that it doesn’t make what happened okay, I just need you to know what I was thinking.

I know you probably think that your dad and I were trying to keep this secret from you because we were ashamed of it. The truth is yes, there is a part of me that is deeply ashamed that I pursued your married father. The selfishness of that action is not lost on me. I will be paying that price the rest of my life.

I know there is shame for Joel that I'm your college-aged best friend. I know he worries that you'll think less of him (please don't). I know he's ashamed that he didn't end his marriage sooner.

But I think we are most ashamed of not telling you sooner. We were really scared at how you would react. We even promised each other that when you got back we were gonna have you over for dinner and explain everything. You just caught us off guard coming home early (not blaming you! It's your house!) I just needed you to know that it was our every intent to tell you everything.

And I think I thought that if we told you together, that if you saw how much we loved each other that you'd give us your blessing or something. I think I deluded myself into thinking I could have it all: you as my best friend and your dad as my soulmate. Now I have neither.

And I know you might be reading soulmate and rolling your eyes because you and I have never believed in bullshit like that. But Sarah, he is my soulmate, whatever that means. It's like we come alive together, life is even better than normal. Things I hated with Conrad make me so happy with Joel.

I share everything with him, stuff I've never told anyone in the world. Stuff I thought made me worthless. But your dad never saw me like that. It's like he sees me as what I always dreamed I could be.

Your dad gave me love that I've never known was possible. The kind of unconditional love that I look back upon with nothing but extreme gratitude. I regret that he was married; I regret that he is your father but I don't regret loving him. Loving Joel Miller was the most wonderful thing I've ever experience; it’s like being warmed by the sun.

I know this is hard to accept. From the outside it looks really bad. I know. And yes we did a lot wrong in getting together. We'll have to pay for that the rest of our lives.

We never meant to fall in love, Sarah. We really didn't. And I won't go on about how wonderful and special your dad is because I know you probably don't wanna hear it. I'm just asking that you try to remember our friendship. Was I ever the type of friend to mess around with some married guy for fun? Was I ever the type to purposefully hurt you? Ever?

Hurting you is the number one thing we never wanted to do. You know how much your dad loves you. You're his entire world. And you see in his actions that you are the most important woman in his life and always will be.

You are also the only true friend I've ever had in my entire life. I know I fucked things up and I know that I betrayed your trust. I don't know how to show you how sorry I am other than cutting all ties with your father (which I have) and giving you space.

But I miss you Sarah. I miss the way we laughed together, the way we could depend on one another. I miss your loving friendship as well. I hope one day you and I can talk. I hope one day maybe you'll be comfortable with me seeing your father. But if that day never comes I need you to know how much I love you both.

If you’ve read this far thank you. I love you and I miss you.

You sign your name, wiping away the tears that fell without you realizing. They smudge the ink on your words, blurring some.

There was so much more you wanted to put in that letter. How staying away from Joel is breaking your heart being the main thing. How every day without Joel has been torture.

You slide the letter into an envelope, addressing and stamping it before rushing out in the bitter cold to post it. You come back into the apartment, feeling strangely light.

For the first time in months you fall asleep without crying.

///

Its weeks later before you hear back from her. A short message on your Instagram from the account she previously had you blocked on.

[SMILLER44] Read your letter.

Thank you. Do you want to talk about it?

She doesn’t answer. You can see she’s read your last message but she makes no attempt to respond.

You don’t push it. You just let it happen. She doesn’t have to come around on your schedule. You don’t know that she ever will. But she’s read your letter, you have that form of closure and maybe that’s enough.

You’re studying for finals the following week when a message comes through at two am.

[SMILLER44] Chsalrie is fgoan and iw miss himsso mhc!!

Sarah very rarely drinks to the point of drunkenness. In habit you respond the way you always have when she imbibes.

Make sure you drink some water.

[SMILLER44] Mnoegyt mom! Iknw@!

You don’t know what to say to that.

She attaches a photo of Charlie from what looks like a recent zoom call. He’s frowning, looking into the camera with a sorrowful expression. It’s clear that their time apart has been really hard for both of them and your heart aches.

I bet you miss him lots.

[SMILLER44] Yeh it hurttsd sobad

I know that feeling.

But it’s only a few more months right? Then he’s moving back to Austin?

Sarah doesn’t reply to you that night. Either she’s fallen asleep in a drunken stupor or she’s remembered that you’re not friends anymore. Either way you don’t hear back from her for the rest of the night.

The following afternoon you look down to see you have another notification from her.

[SMILLER44] Hey Hi! Feeling okay? [SMILLER44] Hungover. Headache. I bet. [SMILLER44] Sorry about the messages.

I didn’t mind at all. Brought back good memories.

Nothing else comes through that day, but your spirit is lighter. Even at the shitty convenience store job you find yourself stocking items and scanning lottery tickets with a smile on your face for what feels like the first time in ages.

For the rest of that week you get intermittent messages from her at all times of the day and night.

[SMILLER44] Where are you living? Address on the envelope said New York? Yeah. That’s me. [SMILLER44] WTF?? Since when did you wanna live in New York? Seemed like a good place to disappear for a bit. [SMILLER44] I guess. You see Pizza Rat yet? Not yet. His cousin tho for sure. [SMILLER44] You have roommates? Yeah two this time. And they suck. One smokes so much weed I think I have a contact high most days. The other one doesn’t clean up after herself. [SMILLER44] Ew And that one always leaves hair in the shower.

You remember that was always Sarah’s complaint during your time together at school. The girls who would leave hair on the dorm shower walls. Or the ones who would leave soap all over the sinks.

[SMILLER44] 🤮

///

A few days later another message comes through.

[SMILLER44] I still can't believe we're graduated Me either. How's the job? [SMILLER44] Management really sux, but I’m learning a lot. How about u? How's Masters? Good actually. I really love it. The apartment sucks tho.

You attach a photo of the tiny apartment with yourself in the bottom corner frowning dramatically.

[SMILLER44] Oh fuck that’s a shithole. Yeah.

///

You always let Sarah be the one to initiate every conversation, even if you’re dying to talk with her about your day. You don’t want to alter this delicate ecosystem of messages. And soon it becomes a daily occurrence.

Some days it a meme and an emoji. Other days it’s her in front of the mirror in a new shirt going “Yes or no?” (something that takes you right back to your college days together). Other days it’s like nothing between you has changed.

[SMILLER44] Charlie is impossible to shop for. Christmas is like two weeks ago and I got him cologne& socks. Oh. [SMILLER44] Shitty right? No. [SMILLER44] Be honest It’s not great. I have an idea! Tet him a painting from a photo of the two of you on your trip this summer? [SMILLER44] I like that idea. He loves sentimental shit like that. And you don’t? 🤨 [SMILLER44] Not like him. he wanted to get me a locket with his picture in it Yikes. [SMILLER44] Right????

Having messages from Sarah becomes the light in your increasingly dark days. You’re working, you’re studying, you’re exhausted. But every time you see that notification it makes you feel like you’re back with her giggling in the library, drinking coffee on campus, studying together. And through it all you never mention Joel once.

[SMILLER44] Remember when Conrad got drunk and bought pizza for the entire dorm? Lol I forgot about that! [SMILLER44] Did I tell you he tried to reach out to me? Who? Conrad? [SMILLER44] Yeah. WTF? WHEN? [SMILLER44] A couple weeks back. He saw that me and Charlie weren’t living together. Thought we broke up. Wanted to know how I was doing. Are you fucking serious? [SMILLER44] Yup. Told him I was okay. [SMILLER44] Turns out he’s with some girl in Switzerland.

Of course Conrad would rebound with someone his family would be so proud of. A blonde, willowy thing that doesn’t talk back or give him grief when he does shitty things. Who laughs when he treats the wait staff like shit or doesn’t mind when he parties late with his friends.

Of course he is. She’s probably a model with access to her daddy’s oil money. [SMILLER44] Looks like it. U ever miss him? Conrad? Fuck no. [SMILLER44] U seeing anyone?

This is the first time in your exchange that things have tiptoed on the idea of you and romance. Her question makes you want to laugh. How could you be seeing anyone? Your heart has been ripped out of your chest.

For the first time since everything happened you are angry at Sarah. Furious that for some reason you had to get her approval to love her father. You want to say you know that I’m not! You know why! But instead you swallow and type out a short reply.

Nah. Not ready.

She doesn’t reply.

///

December in New York is rather beautiful. The people even seem a little nicer – sliding coins into the tip jar at the coffee shop. The snow that falls over the buildings takes away the sharpness of the architecture, makes it seem more magical.

But nothing compares to Austin with its warm days and sleepy charm. Nowhere could ever compare, not when Joel doesn’t exist in it.

To you, New York is the most beautiful in the winter. You take this time to enjoy what the city has to offer. You go to museums and you eat shitty street food and you actually go the Statue of Liberty even though it’s a fucking cliché.

You feel you might be slowly coming back to yourself. The air fills your lungs and you walk down the street back to your apartment most days with a strange sense of hope. Like perhaps there is a life ahead of you again.

Like maybe you could be happy.

[SMILLER44] Hey Hi! How are you? [SMILLER44] Bored. [SMILLER44] Dad is making gingerbread cookies. Pretty sure he's burning them.

You feel your heart hammer at the mere mention of Joel in passing. You’ve been very careful to avoid that topic, to skirt around anything that could be considered prying. But here she is dropping it into your lap.

[SMILLER44] Now he's complaining that the icing he made is too lumpy.

Your heart skips a further beat when she attaches a photo.

His hands are held over a mixing bowl, mid motion. He's wearing his soft green t-shirt, one of your favorites. You can see the messy kitchen in the background and it makes you smile so wide your cheeks hurt.

You wish she'd included his face if only so you could have something new to replace the scant images of Joel you have saved on your phone. The ones you can’t bring yourself to erase.

Nice to see some things never change.

You hesitate before deleting it.

I really miss both of--

No. Erase.

In the end you don't reply. You can't. It hurts too much.

///

It’s Christmas in a few days and you have the week and a half off from your coffee shop gig and thanks to a Christmas bonus from your very kind manager who comments on your amazing work ethic. You think of spending it on a dinner out for yourself or perhaps a better pair of work shoes.

School is finished for the semester and you think of the days ahead as you walk home from the local bodega eating the last of your chopped cheese. Snow falls lazily around you, flakes sticking to your cheeks as you stroll.

Everywhere you look Christmas is in the air. Cheerful Santa's wave from department store windows. Ice skating is going on outside Rockefeller plaza, the insane light display at Dyker Heights, the couples snuggled together on horse drawn carriages in Central Park.

You cherish when Sarah sends you messages, but as the date creeps closer to Christmas there is a pang of longing you can’t overlook. This time last year you were entering into something with Joel that would change you. You were in his arms, you were falling for him. Now you're in a shitty apartment in New York trying to focus on studies and paying rent.

It's possible that Sarah has forgiven you, but she's made no attempt to bring you and Joel back together. The truth is that she may never.

You might get your friend back in some small capacity, but you likely are never going to feel Joel's strong arms holding you again. Never again going to sigh against his soft mouth as he enters you. Never going to hear those words murmured into your hair: I love you my perfect snowflake.

Paper snowflakes hang from a neon-sign laden window you're currently passing, causing you to still. You read the shop name, your mind on the extra money in your bank account.

You step inside.

///

Your phone beeps in your pocket. Sarah has moved to sending you texts now. You sent her a digital gift card for Christmas that morning to some clothing place in Austin and you assume she’s writing to thank you.

[SMILLER44] My dad is miserable. He just keeps moping around the house.

Out of nowhere an anger begins to boil within you. You want to scream at Sarah that she’s the reason you’re both moping. That she’s the reason you can’t just be happy!

[SMILLER44] He's been like that since the summer. [SMILLER44] I feel like it’s all my fault.

And just like that your anger for Sarah is quickly replaced with guilt that you could have ever been furious with her in the first place. She’s obviously been the one dealing with the fallout of a father and best friend who are miserable without each other.

Not your fault. You were totally valid in being hurt and furious. What we did was fucking shitty. I meant everything I said in my letter. I wish I had been up front from the start.

[SMILLER44] I think you made him really happy. I think we made each other really happy. I love him, Sarah. I’m sorry because I know that must be weird but I’m in love with him, I’ve never stopped. And I’ve never loved any man the way I love Joel. And I don’t think I ever will.

She doesn’t reply right away and you’re concerned that you’ve hurt her or scared her off in some way. You’re in bed, teeth brushed as the scent of your roommates weed filters in under your door when another beep sounds on your phone late that evening. You open the window to air it out, the night crisp before glancing at your phone.

[SMILLER44] It's gonna take a long time for me to really trust you again. I want to earn that trust back if you'll let me.

///

Joel Miller has never considered himself to be a good man. Never thought of himself as a bad one either, but in these last few months as he carves in the garage he’s been considering what it is to be good and bad.

Bad men keep secrets from the people they love. Bad men cheat on their wives. Bad men fuck the mouth of a girl half their age, aroused at the thought of being caught. Bad men stay married even as they call up said girl and make her come over the phone. Joel has been such a bad man in so many ways.

But he’s been a good man too. He’s never held your absence against his daughter. Never made her feel as if she isn’t his priority or that she was wrong to feel how she did. Sarah had no mother, Joel was damned if she'd live the rest of her life without a father as well.

He’s a good man because despite that one mess up he’s given you space and not tried to contact you. He’s a bad man because he still watches that video the two of you made and it still make him come so hard he can only do it when Sarah is out of the house.

But he’s good because the love that he carries for you is beyond carnal and it makes him want to be a better man. Makes him want to be brave like you’re being, cutting those ties from your family. Makes him want to be patient like you and give you space. Makes him reach out to Tess at the end of November and apologize in earnest.

He’s confused by the cryptic little smile on her face over the Zoom call, but he says nothing about it. Just repeats over and over how wrong he was to disrespect their marriage like he did. That he was sorry he ever treated her with such lack of concern. He answers her questions with unflinching honesty, his knuckles turning white as he holds his coffee mug next to him on the desk.

“I’ll never forgive you for what you did, Joel. But I appreciate the apology.”

It’s enough. It’s more than he deserves.

At the end of the day Joel decides he’s just a man. A man who is in love with a woman he can’t have. He doesn’t let himself look at your photo anymore – the one of you in front of the mural. He doesn’t let himself go on your social media.

He just goes to work early, works overtime and works harder than ever. He comes home and he makes dinner and he listens to his daughter talk about her day and he is content. He loves hearing Sarah talk about the challenges of the job, of seeing her grow into a capable young woman with her mom’s brains and a bit of his looks.

It was a few weeks of strained hello’s when you first left. When he walked back up into the house as your taxi pulled out, looking haunted as Sarah trailed in behind him. Of silent breakfasts and separate dinners. Until Joel bit the bullet and made her favorite dinner, until he insisted she come and watch a movie with him one night until things just started feeling normal again.

Sarah never brought you up. Ever. Not until this last week where her eyes have stayed on his face, sympathy and something else behind them.

"You miss her lots huh?"

"Sarah I don't wanna talk about her," Joel says gently. "You know that."

Sarah gives him a strange little smile over dinner one night from his favorite BBQ place with the best cornbread this side of Texas. The day is calm and quiet and the house is decorated for the holidays.

“You called her since she left?”

Joel wants to tell Sarah to not ask about you. To never bring you up again. But his daughter deserves answers the most out of anyone. He lowers his fork, still chewing.

“No. She thought it was a bad idea.”

“Hmmm.”

“Sent her an e-mail a few months back. She never replied,” Joel says and he hates the pinch in his voice as he says it. He covers it up with a swig of his beer.

“Probably didn’t want to upset me,” Sarah rationalizes, fork poking at her pulled pork.

“Or she’s moved on,” Joel admits

He’d never say it out loud, but this is his biggest fear of all. That you have indeed found a new boyfriend. One closer to you in age with no baggage and endless love for you. The kind of man who fucks you tenderly, eyes on your face and whispers that he wants to marry you. The kind of man who would support you in school and the man that you’ll eventually carry children for.

The kind of man Joel would want for you if the thought didn’t make him want to punch a hole through a wall.

///

“I hate this fuckin’ movie,” Joel grumbles as he and Sarah sit side by side on the couch. White Christmas is playing on the television and Joel has had just about enough. A bowl of half-eaten popcorn sits between them.

“It’s Christmas eve,” Sarah says with a cheerful laugh. “It’s tradition.”

Fuck tradition.

Fuck Christmas.

Fuck everything.

Snow and shortbread and every fucking thing that reminds him of you. Of your time with him last year. Your mouth, your body, your whispers in his ear. He sure as fuck doesn’t feel like celebrating.

“S’a dumb tradition.”

“Started because of you, old man.”

“Only because you were a kid and you would scream if I tried to watch anything else.”

“Yeah well you only have yourself to blame then.”

Joel gives her a sharp chuckle of amusement before swiping a handful of popcorn, munching softly. Despite you not being here, he’s so thankful his relationship with Sarah is good. He loves his daughter more than he could ever explain.

Sarah checks her phone for what feels like the millionth time before relaxing back and watching the “Love, you didn’t do right by me” scene playing on the screen. The sultry intro begins as Sarah hums along.

Love, you didn't do right by me You planned a romance that just hadn't a chance And I'm through

Joel tries to hide his sigh.

What are you doing right now? Where are you? Are you safe? Enjoying Christmas? Did you go back to your parents after everything? Are they being kind to you? These questions have plagued him since the day you left.

The doorbell rings, startling Joel from his thoughts. He glances over at Sarah, brows raised.

"You expectin' Charlie?”

"Naw, his flight just got in actually. But I think your gift is here," Sarah says with a gentle smile. "I'll need your help bringin’ it in though."

Joel gives a sound of protestation, rising from the couch with a pop in his back before padding towards the front door after his daughter.

“What kinda gift comes on Christmas Eve?” He teases her, kissing the top of her head as she stands at the door. “And has to be brought in by two people?”

“See for yourself.”

Joel rolls his eyes playfully at her giggling face. His hand goes around the handle, pulling the door inwards and peeking around the corner. The teasing sweetness in his face is immediately washed away and he can only stare.

"Hi Joel," you say shyly on the porch, hand clutching your suitcase tightly.

You’re dressed in a long skirt, tank top and light jean jacket. Your hair is done beautifully and your lips glossy. You look a little tired from your journey, but your eyes are bright as you gaze at him, your smile so wide your cheeks are pink.

You’re fucking perfect.

A moment passes between you and Sarah hides a smirk.

"I'm heading to pick up Charlie from the airport," Sarah tells you both as she pulls on her jacket. "We’re gonna stay at the hotel by the airport tonight. I'll be back for breakfast and presents tomorrow. I’m borrowing the truck, alright?"

Joel hasn’t stopped staring at you. He just gives a shallow nod to Sarah watching the way you give her a hopeful look as she walks out the door. His heart squeezes when you both reach for one another, hugging tightly.

"I missed you," you whisper against her shoulder.

"Same here," she whispers back before pulling away and smiling at you. "Glad you could make it. Hope you'll stay for a while."

"If your dad'll have me," you say shooting a nervous look Joel's way.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Sarah says with a crooked smirk.

And then with a wave she's off, striding down the driveway with you watching after her. When she and the truck disappear around a corner you turn back to face Joel, looking strangely nervous.

"Hi," Joel finally croaks, still stuck in the doorway in a daze. "I-I can’t believe you're here. How’re you here?"

"Sarah called me. Said she wanted me to be your Christmas gift. I had air miles."

"Best damn gift I've ever received," Joel says.

As if only now realizing that you are both exposed on the porch Joel urges you inside, taking your suitcase. He stops at the couch, suddenly not realizing where he should put you. He leaves it there by the couch, urging you to join him with a tilt of his head.

“You want a drink?”

“Nah, I’m okay thanks.”

He stands awkwardly for a moment, wanting to grab you, to kiss you, to touch you everywhere but he’s not sure if he should, if that's what you want. Instead he sits on the couch, his knee brushing yours. You both tense at the sensation, as if it's wrong to feel even the hint of one another.

“So where you been all this time?”

“New York.”

“No shit? Why New York?”

“A good place to be anonymous.”

His eyes move to become fixed on your bare knee under your skirt, desperate to touch the warm flesh if only to prove to himself that you actually are real, that you're here.

As if you're thinking the same you let a trembling hand go to his forehead, pushing back the curls there.

“Your hair is longer,” you murmur, smiling when Joel’s eyelids flutter shut and he leans into your touch. “I like it.”

“Thank you, baby."

Baby.

Now he takes his time staring back at you. Taking in the circles under your eyes, the soft curve of your cheek, the sensual pillow of your mouth. You're just as beautiful as he remembered, but even moreso because you're real.

The tension is there, not just because of this surprise but because there is so much you want to say to one another. But neither wants to break this beautiful moment of reconciliation so instead Joel takes your hand in his and brings you to stand.

“Want some shortbread?”

“Sure.”

You follow him into the kitchen, marveling out loud how beautifully decorated the place is. Even more than when you were here last year. You take a moment to enjoy the sight of Joel’s biceps curling under his soft t-shirt as he brings out the plate from the fridge.

“No snowflakes though,” you tease as you take the cookie he offers you. You remember last year they were all over the garland and even in the windows. Now it seems they’ve been purposefully omitted.

“Ah, well, those are in the garage,” Joel says looking strangely shy. You’re curious at this, taking a nibble from the cookie. You don’t have to heart to tell him it’s awful. But he’s smiling dreamily at you and you find yourself sighing and smiling back.

“Show me?”

He nods, taking your hand in his even though you’re only going twenty steps. He takes you into the garage and you look around, expecting to see paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. Instead it looks deceptively normal.

Joel urges you towards the workbench where he pulls out a large box from underneath. He lays it on the table and takes off the top, his eyes sailing over to you as you peek inside.

Carvings, dozens and dozens of them. And all of them snowflakes.

Some are as small as your thumb, others as large as Joel's palm. Some are painted, others are wood grain. Some are intricately designed and must have taken weeks, others are smooth and buffed.

"Every time I was missing you too much I'd come out here and carve."

"Looks like you missed me a lot."

"I did."

There’s no hesitation from him and you gaze up at him with limpid eyes.

“You uh… I sent you that e-mail a couple months back,” Joel starts and you can see the insecurity in his dropped gaze. “You never wrote back.”

You raise a hand to his cheek, urging him to look back to your face.

“I couldn’t,” you explain with a tremor in your voice. “I wanted to so badly. But I had to respect Sarah’s wishes no matter how bad it hurt.”

Joel nods, knowing that your answer makes sense.

“I think I was worried that maybe you’d moved on,” Joel says with a wince.

You give him a sad smile before your hand drops from his face. You lift up the hem of your shirt, tugging your skirt down until your hip is showcased. Joel feels his heart pick up speed when he sees the tattoo there covered in second skin. A tiny black and white snowflake. The exact one Joel carved for you a year ago.

"Got it when missing you hurt too much," you confess. “Still healing.”

Before he can stop himself he's knelt on the ground of the garage. He holds your hips gently, his full mouth going to press against your decorated flesh.

"S' beautiful baby," Joel murmurs.

He feels goosebumps rise under his touch, and the sensation of your hand carding through his hair.

“How could you ever think I’d move on?” you ask, your voice soft. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Joel.”

Joel is still there at your feet as if kneeling before you is the most natural pose for him. Because with you he is reverential. His eyes search yours as he stares up at you, his dark eyes soulful.

“You’re so young and beautiful and wonderful and-“

“And you’re so handsome and kind and loving,” you finish for him. “And I don't want anyone else.”

He gives a ghost of a smile up at you before he kisses your hip again, tenderly, lovingly and through the clear bandage you feel the warmth of his mouth.

"Joel," you whisper above him.

He glances back up, seeing your eyes glossy and full of yearning. You don't have to say anything more.

He slowly slides his hand under your skirt, fingertips tracing the curve of your inner thigh, edging your panties. You say nothing, just breathing heavily as you stare down at him while he drags your panties down your calves, over your ankles. You step out of them, watching him place them in the pocket of his sweatpants.

He lifts your skirt, holding it in his hands at the side of your hips. Your pussy is exposed to him and he groans at the sight of it there in front of him. He presses a sloppy kiss to your mound, shivering when you whimper.

His fingers curl in the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down. He gazes at your sex as it is uncovered, groaning softly at the sight of it wet and waiting for him. The skirt is soon discarded and your lower back is urged against the work table.

His intent is clear as he gently urges your thigh over one of his shoulders. You breathe heavily staring down at him, his dark eyes fixed up at you as his mouth comes to press against your mound.

"Please," he murmurs between kisses. "Just let m-"

He trails off as he kisses and licks between your legs, eyes rolling back when he hears your shuddered moan above him. You lean your spine heavily back against the work bench, one foot on the ground, the other leg hinged over Joel's shoulder.

"Joel," you breathe softly if only to hear yourself saying that beautiful name again. The name you avoided thinking of for so long.

His large palms hold you in place, fingers dimpling the flesh as your moans increase. Joel feels tears starting at his eyes as he holds you, the warmth of your skin underneath his hands once more. His perfect fucking woman is here, and she's gonna come on his tongue.

You came back to him. You came back.

He slips two fingers into your dripping slot, curling gently so that he can take a moment to admire you. The way your fingers dig into the edge of the workbench. And now this sweet little snowflake, this forever mark dancing on your skin as your body moves for him.

Overcome, his mouth goes back to your cunt, fingers still working in tandem as he begins to suck you clit in earnest.

Your head is tilted back as your orgasm approaches. His eyes drift up to you even as his fingers and mouth work between your thighs. As if you can feel his gaze your neck bends forward, your eyes dropping to watch Joel between your legs gazing up at you.

Your big, strong man is on his knees, laving your clit with his sinful touch while his big, dark puppy -dog eyes stare up at you with reverence. The sight of it has you whimpering, watching as his eyes darken, the black edging out the dark brown of his iris.

"Uh huh," Joel growls against your pussy, sucking your clit with the perfect pressure as your thighs quake. "You come for me, pretty girl."

And you want to. You want nothing more than for Joel to fuck you with his tongue all night. But you find you need him deeper, need him closer. You need him with his body pressed against yours.

"Take me to bed," you beg breathlessly.

Joel rises, wasting no time before his mouth is on yours. You melt into his arms, immediately slotting your lower between his.

"I missed you so much," you whisper.

"I missed you more."

Joel can't contain himself. He's taken you into his arms, shifting you into a bridal carry. He takes you to the bedroom, laying you on the bed with a tenderness you can’t help but almost weep in the face of.

He undresses you slowly, kissing every piece of flesh he uncovers. Then he removes his own clothing, letting the items fall to the ground before you're in bed underneath his covers.

"I missed you so fucking much," he tells you, peppering your face with kisses as he pulls you against him.

"I thought about you every day," you say with tears in your eyes.

For a moment the two of you slow the momentum down, kissing languidly as you card your hands through his hair and he holds your face between his palms. It feels like the most exquisite reunion of bodies and minds all at once and it warms you in way the sun never could.

Eventually his hands drift to your waist, sucking your tongue into his mouth as his hardness seeks your center. The two of you grind together, groaning and moaning into each other’s mouths before Joel pulls back to look at you.

"You want this?"

"You really have to ask?"

With a grin he urges your knees against your chest, opening you to him. In that folded position when he brackets you on either side he feels like he's holding all of you in his arms, like he's protecting you.

And he knows that when he slides into you in this position that the feeling is as incredible for you as it is for him because your eyes roll back and you whimper.

"Tell me how it feels, baby," Joel groans, slowly drawing himself out and sliding back deeply, his ass and hips flexing.

"So good," you murmur. "So full."

You inhale deeply, your mouth against his shoulder as the smell of his soap and wood shavings wash over you. The scent of safety and of home. Of love.

He kisses your neck, soft sloppy things as he sinks into you with a groan over and over, your eyes gazing down to watch his slick cock entering into you over and over, so slow and so deep it feels like you’re fucking for the first time in your life. You make a small whimpering sound, hips rolling against Joel’s and you feel him smile into your hairline.

"There's my girl."

The sound of it, his girl, makes the tears sneak out the corner of your eyes. When you feel the light tap of wet on your cheeks you open your eyes to see Joel staring at you, tears dropping from his cheek onto yours and that sets you off, chin wobbling.

The two of you make love like this, whispered promises of unending love, of desire, of the torture it was to be without one another. And through it all Joel keeps up his slow and steady pace, more wanting to be inside you than anything. There is no rush, no time to keep. Just you and him and the future ahead of you.

When you finally orgasm it’s a powerful thing that has you sobbing loudly even as Joel empties himself into you. He holds you as you cry raggedly against him, your face buried in his neck as you mourn the months apart, about the pain you’ve both caused and ultimately at the knowledge that you are together again.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he promises as he rocks you in bed.

“Never,” you echo.

---TWO YEARS LATER---

It's one of your traditional Sunday walks, both of you with a coffee in your hand. You're finishing up your blueberry croissant and you're enjoying the mild weather as tourists mill around you.

Normally you both stick closer to home for coffee Sundays. Especially since Joel's workload has been extra tough with his latest project. You only finished school a year ago and have been at your job less than six months. Despite his workload Joel has never been happier.

He loves coming home to hear all about your day. The two of you take turns cooking dinner. Sometimes Tommy and Maria join and those two always stay late to drink and play cards. Tommy likes to give you shit about how you first met, but Joel always reminds him with a severe look to drop it.

Sarah and Charlie are often invited and often attend, bringing over little baked desserts because as Sarah puts it “my dad can’t bake for shit”.

Unlike before, Sarah doesn’t ask you intense details about your romantic life but every so often when the two of you watch Charlie and Joel laughing about something while they BBQ she’ll cast a soft look over at you and offer a gentle: “I don’t think my dad has ever been this happy.”

You always reply the same: “Neither have I.”

When you and Joel got married three months ago he claimed it was because he felt it was time to ‘make an honest woman out of you’. Which was a boldfaced lie. He was just really really excited to finally call you his wife and have you wear his ring.

You and Joel couldn’t stop beaming the entire time.

Of course your garter had a little snowflake charm on it. A private joke for Joel to uncover when he undressed you later that night. One that he enjoyed very much, especially when he found it was just the right length to bind your wrists together. . .

"Why'd you wanna come all this way for coffee, baby?" Joel asks you now, his free arm around your waist as he guides you through the throngs of tourists.

"Remember the murals you showed me years ago? I wanted to see them again."

Joel is pleased with this, dark eyes disappearing as he grins broadly. You both wander around the familiar neighborhoods, stopping at your old favorite murals from the last time you were there several years ago: the bread and butter, the I love you so much where you take a selfie with you kissing Joel's cheek.

"Ready to head back, beautiful?"

“One more?"

Joel nods, his big hand swallowing yours. You find yourself standing taller when he does this, showing him off. You see many of the women taking second looks when he walks by, their eyes twinkling. Joel Miller is the kind of man that gets better with age and you are reaping the benefits.

Sometimes he worries he's too old for you, but he still loves you more than you've ever been loved and fucks you like a twenty two year old on Viagra so you have nothing to complain about. And while Joel does get insecure sometimes about his age, when he watches you bounce up and down on his cock begging for more he knows that you’re more than satisfied.

You turn the corner to find the familiar mural, still crowded with tourists and drawn all over.

Before I die:________________

"You mind if I write something?"

Joel looks surprised by your question but immediately takes your coffee cup and his free hand.

"Course not, baby. Take your time."

You kiss him gently before going over to the mural. There are hundreds of white pieces of chalk all around the ground in front of it. You take a piece and go to one of the free spaces, your elegant swoops clacking against the backdrop of frenzied writing. You drop the chalk to the ground, brushing the dust from your fingertips and sailing over to a waiting Joel.

"Wanna see what I wrote?"

Joel nods, smirking as you grab his wrist and drag him over to the mural. He stands beside you, his dark eyes searching for your familiar looping script amongst the sea of writing. Then he sees it, complete with a little heart beside it.

Before I die: I want to have Joel Miller's baby.

Joel smiles sweetly at this, eyes glazing over with adoration as he looks at the mural and then back to you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"One day, baby," he promises you with a sweet kiss.

You know he's trying not to be too excited. He's expressed his concern of making you feel pressured before. "I'd love to have a baby with you honey. But only if it's somethin' you want. No pressure from me.' How can he not understand that you'd happily give him an entire football team?

"One day might be sooner than you think, Joel," you say gently.

It takes him a moment to realize that you're holding your palm over your abdomen. The coffee he holds that you'd insisted needed to be decaf. Then it's like it all comes crashing into focus and his eyes go owlish.

"You're-"

"Yeah."

Joel is normally not that expressive a man outside the bedroom or even outside the house. So it takes you by surprise when he drops both half-full coffee cups and lets out a whoop before hoisting you into his arms.

"We're havin' a baby!" Joel shouts, twirling you around. You throw your head back in laughter, arms around his neck as you spin.

The nearby tourists give cheers and claps, causing your cheeks to flush in embarrassment even as you laugh.

But Joel is soaking it up, eyes crinkled in delight, and you realize that he never had this with Sarah. He was young and frightened. But now he shouts his excitement and you don't have it in your heart to tell him to keep quiet.

Eventually he lets you down only so he can grab your face in his hands and kiss you so soundly whistles begin nearby.

"Okay that's enough," you tell him with a laugh.

He takes your hand and starts to lead you back towards the truck, a goofy grin on his face.

"I thought we were walking?"

"In this heat? I'm gettin' you home and outta the sun."

Not even five minutes have gone by since he learned of your pregnancy and already he's started to worry about how to take care of you.

"Congratulations," an older couple says as you walk by. You both thank them enthusiastically, the older women grinning up at Joel. "Your wife is so beautiful."

"Ain't she?" Joel says, his smile broad against his tanned face. "Most beautiful woman inside and out."

"You're a lucky woman," the older woman says with a wink to you. You look up at your husband and feel your heart swell.

"Ma'am, you have no idea."

///

"What's your guess?"

"I hope it's a girl," Sarah announces from her folding chair in the middle of the swelling group.

"Nah, it's a boy," Tommy insists with a grin. "We need more male energy around here."

Sarah raises a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun, her engagement ring glinting in the sunlight.

"The last thing this place needs is more male energy, Tommy."

The nearby group laughs as you run your hand over your swollen midsection. Joel's arm is around your shoulder and you feel his laughter rumble against your body.

You're seven months pregnant and you're glowing. Everyone tells you that. You've never felt as beautiful as you do carrying Joel Miller's child.

The backyard is decorated with tiny blue and pink baby silhouettes and it's ridiculously full with people from Joel's work, from your work and school friends, with Sarah's fiancé Charlie and his family, and your neighbors. The music plays in the background, the beers and wine are flowing and everyone seems to be having a great time.

There's a pile of gifts for you and Joel to open later, and your parents mailed you out the largest package you've ever seen. You'd been unable to wait before opening that one with Joel this morning.

Inside was an assortment of baby clothes, diapers, expensive looking cream, a bottle warming device and another small package wrapped in green ribbon.

Inside this package was a rattle, a simple thing made of silver. Small and delicate with a pink bow faded over the years. Your eyes blur when you read the note.

This rattle was once Heather's and then yours. It brought you both a great amount of joy and we thought it was only appropriate for it to be passed down to our grandchild.

We apologize that we can't be there for the party, but we'd love to have you, Joel, and the baby up for Christmas this year if you would like to attend. If not we understand and perhaps could make plans for sometime in the New Year.

Love, Mom and Dad

Joel is very excited to see what in his own words are "Where the uptight assholes live". He's still not their biggest fans and you're all trying to work through it. You're happy with how things are slowly progressing so far.

"I'm voting girl," Maria tells you shrewdly, bouncing her own young son over her shoulder as she encourages him to burp.

"I'll just be happy it's healthy," Joel insists, squeezing your shoulder gently.

"Ten fingers and ten toes," you say after him.

Joel kisses you sweetly.

"When are we doing this damn reveal?" Comes a voice from the crowd.

Several others join in until a smiling Joel is helping you to your feet and guiding you towards the table by the patio that's covered in cupcakes. There's one small cake covered in white frosting and blue and pink question marks.

Joel stands beside you, one hand on the small of your back. The music is lowered and the crowd comes to circle you and Joel.

You give a wink to Sarah who returns it with a grin. You can see she's wearing the sash you bought her, the one that says "Big Sister".

"Okay are y'all ready?" Joel raises the large cutting knife with one hand as the crowd cheers.

Sarah raises her phone in front of her, hitting record. "Yep. Go for it!"

"How about you?" Joel asks gently, gazing down at your grinning expression. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

His hand is gripping the handle of the knife and he encourages you to place your hand over his. You both slice down the middle, bringing the knife back out of the cake to reveal pale pink icing along the blade.

"It's a girl!"

Cheers sound out everywhere around you, poppers going off with baby rattle shaped confetti. The cupcakes are passed around and everyone gives their congratulations and hugs, citing that you and Joel are going to make the most beautiful baby.

You feel like you can't stop smiling. Is life supposed to feel this perfect?

The food is delivered shortly after, and the swarm of guests descend upon Austin's best BBQ. Paper plates and beer bottles soon line the folding tables Joel set up early this morning.

"For a baby shower being put on for me I sure have to do a lot of fuckin' work for it," he murmured to you this morning before getting up to help Tommy set up.

You watch the people milling around the tables, smiling to yourself as you watch them laugh and chat. The backyard buzzes with energy and mild chaos and you love every second of watching it.

"What do you think of the name Eleanor?" You muse as you and Joel sit next to one another at one of the tables. "Means shining light."

Joel makes a face as if he's not quite on board.

"Mmmm, s'a bit old fashioned."

You purse your mouth in disappointment. You'd come upon that name in a book you were reading and found yourself completely taken with it. You try to find some middle ground.

"We could call her Ellie?"

Joel's smile grows at this, whispering it under his breath a few times in that sweet twang of his. Ellie Ellie.

"I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Joel's mouth finds your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. His voice lowers an octave, quiet and husky in your ear.

"You know what I else I like?"

"Mmm?"

"How you looked coming for me this mornin'."

Your face goes scarlet and you let out a surprised giggle before schooling your features into an exaggerated look of seriousness.

"We'll have to behave now, Mister Miller since we're both going to be parents," you tell him with mock solemnity.

You don't miss the way his nostrils flare at the sound of Mister Miller passing through your lips.

Nor do you miss when he follows you into the house moments later when you claim to need the bathroom.

He follows you inside in silence, his gaze heated as he comes to cup your swollen breasts through the thin fabric of your dress. You whimper softly, not wanting any passing guests to hear you.

“You’re not wearing a bra today are you?”

“Uh uh,” you grin wickedly. “I know you love it when they bounce for you.”

“Fuckin’ tease,” he grins against your ear before he turns you away from him, hands coming to grip the meat of your ass through your dress.

"Will you fuck me?" You purr, hand coming to graze his already throbbing bulge through his trousers. You shoot him your best innocent gaze, lashes fluttering.

"Please, Mister Miller?"

He fumbles with his belt buckle as you slide your panties down over the globe of your ass. Joel lets out a grunt before sinking into you, his broad chest bracketing you from behind. Your head tilts back, jaw hinged open. He feels so fucking good every single time.

He fucks you against the door; hand over your mouth as you grip his neck behind you for purchase. Your belly nestles against the door lightly and your hips flex as he drives himself deeper into your drenched pussy.

"Made me a Daddy," Joel groans in your ear, hips snapping against yours in a fervor. "Let me fuck you full and now everyone knows you're mine."

There's a sound of loud laughter outside and it makes you whimper as his cock pistons in and out of you. His hand is still sealed over your mouth.

"Take it all, pretty girl. Take it all."

His hands hold you tightly, but secure. He's paranoid of hurting you and the baby but that doesn't stop him from fucking you until his thrusting hips start to stutter.

You glance over your shoulder to watch him, eyes shut and teeth bared as he fucks into you over and over. He’s fucking gorgeous like this, neck strained and curls falling into his forehead. One of the buttons of his dress shirt has come undone in the frenzy, showing you a swath of his muscled chest.

Your man.

"Taking me so well," he groans in approval. He opens his eyes to see you staring up at him with hearts in your eyes and he grins down at you. His face lowers to your shoulder as he croons more filth into your ear ending with a sultry:

"Such a good girl."

"And good girls get your come Mister Miller," you remind him breathlessly, a smile lingering as he kisses you soundly.

"Yes they fuckin' do."

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

a/n #2: Y'all I had to end it on a filthy note because of how these two started. Don't hate me for it heh heh

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

TAGLIST

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#please mister miller #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut #joel miller smut #dad joel miller #joel miller #bfdjoelmiller #joel fanfic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou

321 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 10 months

Note

Request: smooth as butter Steve flirting with Eddie while the CC boys watch in shock as their ruthless Eddie turns red(?) and gets all blushy bc he doesn't know how to deal with this STEVE???? making it better:it happens during DND the one time Eddie gets Steve to play & the entire time Steve's human bard character flirting hardcore with Eddie via his NPC's (the kids aren't involved in this one just Steddie & Corroded Coffin boys)

MY LOVEEEEEEE!!!! Okay I have never played. I know. Hush, I know. My best friend wants me to so bad she bought me dice. And like, I probably will, but like Steve, my brain is trying to not only deal with math, but also just how involved it all is. I like games that take about half a brain cell. I'm also super bad at the flirting thing, in real life and when writing. I just cannot do it my friends. But I did my best here and I hope it isn't the worst😂 - Mickala ❤️

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

He was doing this for Dustin.

He made a character sheet with Lucas, went over the basics, learned that maybe the math part wouldn’t be so bad.

And then he convinced Eddie to let him do a one shot with the Corroded Coffin guys so he could get a feel for it all without Dustin knowing.

He didn’t get that creative with his character according to Lucas, but he was also supportive and understanding that Steve wasn’t doing this as a regular thing.

Eddie explained to the guys that they needed to be patient, that Steve was genuinely trying to learn.

“Everyone was new once, so I don’t wanna hear anything from any of you about how annoying it is to have to take it so slow and explain everything. He’s trying to do a nice thing for Henderson and we’re going to be nice.”

Everyone groaned, but nodded in agreement.

“Are we talking about your crush on him yet, or is that still off the table?” Gareth had the gall to ask.

“There’s no crush to even have on the table,” Eddie said.

“Sure, dude.”

—--------------

Things were not going well.

Well, okay, they weren’t going bad.

It’s just that Lucas apparently explained to Steve that being in character was very important and Steve failed to mention that his character’s charisma was the highest possible option.

He shouldn’t be surprised by that.

Maybe he’s just surprised with all the blatant flirting.

The guys keep shooting him looks like they know that he’s struggling, that they can see that he is barely able to hold onto the power the DM usually has.

“The guard stops you, but he recognizes you. ‘You’re the one who stole the sword!’ he yells, catching the attention of the other guards. You panic because your party is still hiding in the bush with strict instructions not to be seen unless they draw their weapons on you. How will you respond?”

Steve smirked.

Not good. Run away. Get out, Munson, you’re fucked.

But he couldn’t leave.

He was the DM, and they were barely halfway done with what he had planned.

He had to see this through and he had to give Steve the best possible introduction to this game.

It was for Dustin.

“I’d probably have to insist that it wasn’t me he saw, but that I sure wish I’d seen him before. Maybe wink at him,” Steve said. “Actually, definitely wink at him.”

Steve looked at everyone else, smile silently asking for approval.

Everyone smirked at Eddie before giving him a thumbs up.

Traitors.

He’d be saying something later for sure.

“The guard is still suspicious, but waves the other guards off. He looks you over, circles you, decides to take your only weapon.”

“Not my only weapon. I still have plenty of time to distract him.”

Eddie squints at him, just as suspicious as the guard in their game.

“Roll for-”

“Persuasion, right?” Steve interrupted.

“Sure. Roll for persuasion, Stevie,” Eddie pretended not to be flustered at Steve remembering aspects of the game.

“18!” Steve yelled. “Plus the 13. So that’s…” he held his hand up while he thought about it. “31!”

Everyone at the table cheered except for Eddie.

He knew what was coming.

“I offer to let the guard check me for weapons in private if he’s still suspicious. I tell him it’s better to take all my clothes off where he can do something about it.”

Eddie hated what was happening.

He hated that he could feel how red his face was, and how much Steve was thriving off of putting Eddie off of his own game.

He hated the way the guys were all watching, literally holding their breath for Eddie’s reaction.

“The guard decides to lead you past the gate, but instead of taking you to the entrance to the castle, he leads you down a side road. It leads to a small cottage, and you start to worry that your party won’t find you.”

Steve doesn’t even hesitate.

“I let him lead me where he wants. I can take it.”

Eddie is going to die. Right here.

Steve knows what he’s doing, what he’s saying.

He knows what he is doing to Eddie.

And, okay, maybe they haven’t talked about it, maybe they’ve both been avoiding the very obvious tension between them for months. Maybe Eddie could have taken a chance any of the times they’ve been alone lately to finally talk about it.

Or maybe Steve would just keep flirting with him through this stupid game until Eddie couldn’t even do what he needed to do.

And everyone around them would just get to watch it unfold.

Jeff, his only friend at the moment, cleared his throat and decided to speak up.

“I think the rest of the party should follow. Just in case he needs backup. Guys?”

Thank God for Jeff.

It continues, the rest of the party finds a way to get past the guards, and Eddie admits to himself that he’s making it easier on purpose.

He wants, no, needs this game to end.

And he gets his wish ten minutes later when the phone rings and it’s Dustin, begging for a ride.

Eddie ignores the fact that he called his trailer knowing Steve would be here already, but the rest of the group doesn’t.

While Steve is on the phone, they all quietly tease Eddie.

“If I knew Steve would fluster you this much, I think we would have invited him a long time ago,” Grant said.

“Yeah, we probably would’ve had much easier campaigns if he joined in high school,” Gareth added.

“Yeah? Next time you all get to die, how about that? Terrible, bloody deaths. Gareth gets tortured.”

Before any of them could answer, Steve came into the room, looking a bit sad.

“Sorry about this guys. I couldn’t really come up with a reason that I couldn’t go without giving it away what I was doing. We could pause and come back to it later?”

Eddie knew the guys would be fine with just calling it here; They’d managed to get far enough along that they knew it would have been a good win for them.

“Nah, you did good. Maybe you can join us for real after Dustin’s birthday campaign,” Jeff said.

Steve beamed back at him.

“Maybe, yeah. If you guys are cool with it.”

Was he…shy?

He was just flirting up a storm! Absolutely taking the lead in a game he’d never played before! And now he was being shy?

“Hell yeah!” They all agreed.

Great, Steve was making friends with his friends.

“Alright!” Steve clapped his hands together. “I’m off to get the kid. Thanks guys!”

He started to leave, but stopped by Eddie.

Then his lips were on the top of Eddie’s head.

“Bye guys!” He said as he continued to walk out.

Eddie’s eyes were wide, unblinking. The guys were all staring at him with the same wide, unblinking eyes.

The front door to the trailer closed.

“Uh,” Eddie said.

“Did he-”

“He just-”

“On your head.”

“Uh.”

The front door opened.

Steve was standing in the doorway to the kitchen area, eyes wide, unblinking.

“Did I-”

“Uh huh,” Eddie answered.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that…okay?”

He was looking nervously between the guys and Eddie, like he expected someone to punch him.

“Oh! Yeah. No, they’re good. Um. Did you want to kiss me?”

“Yeah. I kinda…always do?”

“Always?”

“Yes. It’s kind of all I think about.”

Eddie took it all back; This was the best and he had never been happier that Steve wanted to play D&D.

He didn’t even care about the guys watching as he stood from his chair and walked to Steve in the doorway.

“Me too.”

He pulled Steve against him, ignoring the whistles and cheers from the table, and kissed him.

The kiss left them both breathless, despite being barely more than a peck.

“Um, I should go get Dustin,” Steve whispered.

“Yeah. Come back after?”

“Will everyone still be here?” Steve asked nervously.

“Nope, just you and me, sweetheart,” Eddie replied.

“Good. I’ll be back soon, then.”

When Steve left, Eddie turned back to the group, lovestruck grin on his face.

“So it’s off the table now, right?” Gareth asked, smirking.

“Shut up.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #request #hellfire club #but without the kids

784 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 5 months

Text

Something Real - Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: You had offered him the chance for something the two of you could build, something real, if he gave up the suit for good.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, character death, implied violence, implied injuries, mentions of blood, mentions of terminal illness/treatments/effects, implied sex, Soldier Boy being himself at times, language (I guess?), tears, heartbreak - I think that pretty much covers everything

Word Count: 9434

A/N: Something I started writing back on Thanksgiving. I was hurting that day, needing heat to ease the pain, and I was working on something else for SB. This just popped into my head (the idea of "warm hands") so I ran with it. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I picked the name Violet because it's a bit of a reference to the other SB story I'm working on. Please let me know what you think (and please don't kill me).

I heard this song on a Soldier Boy fan edited video on YouTube and ever since then I can't get it out of my head for this one shot. It just makes me see Ben and the reader that much clearer in my mind.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

“I forgot how warm your hands are.”

Ben could feel his devastation threatening to overwhelm him but he quickly forced it away. He had to be strong for you; no time to be a pussy.

As if you had heard his thoughts, you gave him a sad smile, your own eyes starting to blur with unshed tears that you were trying to hold back yourself, not wanting to make this worse for him than you already knew it would be. But then it suddenly hit you that life was indeed short; what did it matter if you let your feelings surrounding your current circumstances show? You had never held back before. Why would you start now? So you let your tears flow but you did your best to turn them into happy tears so whenever he thought back to this moment, he wouldn’t see how scared or sad you really were. You were determined for him to never know the true depths of your fear or despair in this moment.

Instead, you weakly lifted your hand and placed it against his cheek, watching as he briefly closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His green gaze settled on you once more and you could have sworn you could see a slight shimmer there but in the next moment, it was gone, so you couldn’t be entirely sure.

Both of you were having flashes of the same memories that your words brought to mind.

You were both in bed, naked, you laying sprawled out over him, having just made love for the second time that evening. Ben always called it fucking but you refused to use that word to describe what the two of you did. Sure, he fucked you sometimes but things were more serious between you than you just being a bedwarmer of his or some random pussy for him to stick his dick into and get off as he’d crudely put it.

They had been ever since you’d caught him by surprise one night after too much whiskey mixed with conversation and you kissed him ever so sweetly. He’d tried to turn it into something else — because he was who he was after all — but you wouldn’t let him. Something changed between you that night and an understanding began to form. If he wanted you, then he’d have to give up everything that wouldn’t allow him to keep you. That meant the women, the drugs, the bad behavior — all of it. You weren’t trying to change him, not at all, but you knew those things weren’t really the true make-up of who he was; it was a mere reflection of the suit and persona Vought encouraged, expected, and enforced. Ben made his own choices of course, but you knew he could do better, be better. And that’s who you wanted; that’s who you loved — the man that belonged with you, not the Supe that belonged to a greedy corporation and the world. But it would have to be up to him to make that final choice. You made that perfectly clear and told him to come to you when he was ready, ready for something real.

And sure enough, despite his keeping away for a while to prove a point, he eventually ended up on your doorstep that night three years ago, dressed in modern day clothing and cleaned up in all manners of the phrase. Ben was ready. He wanted you, he wanted real and most of all, he wanted it with you.

You’d been together ever since and while things hadn’t been perfect, they’d been perfect enough for the both of you. So here you were, laid out in bliss, listening to his strong heartbeat underneath your ear as his hands glided up and down your bare back. You closed your eyes, smiling, and murmured, “I forgot how warm your hands are.”

Instead of answering you, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there, as he tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer into him. He held you like that for a little while until you could feel him stirring beneath you once more and his caresses turned more insistent before he rolled you onto your back, his kisses feverish as you both started your third round of lovemaking for the night. Supe stamina and all that.

You winced as you felt another sharp kick to your stomach. “Damn,” you muttered.

Ben’s eyes were immediately on you, worried. “What?”

“Nothing,” you tried to lie but another kick had you flinching.

He laid down the wrench he had been battling the pipes with and wiped his hands with a rag before making his way over to you. “The kid kicking you again?”

A third kick had your face screwed up in a grimace as you nodded. His jaw tightened and he urged you down onto the sofa before joining you and holding you from behind. He lifted your shirt above your belly and you both watched in fascination as there was a slight movement to it right before you hissed in pain and bit your lip to keep from crying out. Ben lowered his hands and began to rub your skin soothingly. The pain eased and like always, your baby started to settle down, something it did whenever it sensed its father’s strong presence. You assumed it was a Supe thing, since your kid would have half of those V-mutated genes, and you refused to let that worry you in the slightest. There was no guarantee your child would have superpowers like its dad though you wouldn’t be surprised if it inherited his strength if these painful kicks were anything to go by. Either way, you’d cross that superpower bridge if and when you came to it.

You let out a breath of relief and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against Ben’s shoulder. “I seriously forgot how warm your hands are,” you whispered, enjoying how the warmth both settled your child and you at the same time.

“Don’t know how,” he murmured into your ear. “I hardly ever take them off you.”

You smiled wider at his teasing and wrapped your hands around one of his arms, humming your contentment. After a moment, you opened your eyes to find him watching you with an affectionate smirk. You lifted up and gently kissed him. “I love you.”

His smirk melted into a smile and he leaned down to kiss you one more time. “Back at you, doll.”

And almost as if your child wanted a say, to agree with the sentiments exchanged between both parents, it kicked against Ben’s hand albeit more gently this time, not causing any pain.

You grinned as you watched Ben teach your daughter, Violet, how to make a snowman. Which really meant he was making it for her. She had her father completely wrapped around her little finger. If there was anything that could bring Soldier Boy to his knees, it was his little girl. The strongest Supe in the world was at the mercy of the whims of your six year old.

You both had been surprised when the child you’d both eagerly been anticipating turned out to be a girl. You were excited — you’d always wanted a little girl. Ben — you weren’t sure how he would react. His heart had been set on a boy and while you could see a faint layer of disappointment shadowing his expression when you heard the doctor’s announcement, the moment he and your newborn daughter locked eyes, he was hers. It turned out you had nothing to worry about, on any counts.

He had promised you he would be better than his father and thus far he’d lived up to that promise. While you both had discussed extensively what type of parenting style you’d be implementing, you weren’t sure what would happen when the tough days of parenthood would hit. And while he had come a long way from his antiquated mindset (which had been beyond painful for the both of you back in the early days of you moving in together), you wanted to make sure that none of that would ever touch your child, literally and figuratively. But it turned out, you really had nothing to worry about. There were only a few instances that you had to gently remind him that it wasn’t the 1940’s anymore and each time he’d apologized, and set about making it right however he could.

Ben pleasantly surprised you in being there for all of the night time feedings, being willing to change a diaper after you’d eventually forced the issue and he found out that it wasn’t as big a deal as he was making it out to be, and taking her from you so you could sleep, shower, or get some time for yourself when he realized he wouldn’t break her. Her tiny form made him nervous and all the more careful. He held her hand when she started walking, read to her at bedtime (even though he secretly told you later there was a lot of pussy bullshit stories the world had available for kids these days), and beamed when one night she’d sleepily hugged him and whispered that Daddy was her hero after a particular conversation they’d had about a story he was reading, when she asked why the main character was going to fight the dragon. “Because he’s the hero, sweetness, and heroes fight the monsters.” You’d found him later standing at the foot of her bed, watching her sleep, an expression of sadness mixed with realization in his face.

You’d wrapped yourself around his arm, hugging him, as you joined him in his study of your daughter. “You okay?” You whispered after a moment.

He looked unsure how to answer you so you gave him a little time to think of what he wanted to say, smiling as you noticed your daughter’s quiet breathing, her little lips curled up in the cutest pout as she dreamed — of what you had no idea but you hoped it was warm and wonderful and everything she could possibly want in her four and a half years of life.

“She said I was her hero,” Ben admitted quietly.

You turned to glance up at him and caught the furrow of his brows.

“I’m not really a hero, though.” He pressed his lips together. “Not with the things I’ve done.”

You slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers, and squeezed. “Then be one.”

His eyes snapped over to you in question.

You gently framed his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Ever since you decided you wanted something different from what you had before, you have made better decisions every single day. Who you were back then, Ben…that’s not who you are now. So if you want to be a hero,” You briefly glanced at your sleeping daughter. “Her hero, then be one.”

Ben contemplated your words as you released him and his eyes drifted over the child that had somehow carved herself into his heart in a way that the fucked-up Homelander or the idea of any kid of his that possibly existed out there never had. He was already trying every single day to be better, for her, for you, for himself — and it was something he would keep doing.

“But just so you know,” you whispered to him. “No matter if you wear the suit or you’re just plain ol’ Daddy who reads her stories and threatens the monsters in her closet before she goes to bed each night, you’re already going to be her hero.” You gave him a soft smile and watched as your words played out upon his face. His lips lifted up slightly in the corners and he ran his tender glance over his little girl. It surprised you though when he then turned that smile and gaze onto you.

He marveled at just how simple you made it all sound sometimes. Not that you hadn’t acknowledged his effort or the strides he’d made in attempting to be a better father than his old man — a better man period — but he secretly admired when you gave it to him straight, no bullshit, no matter the subject. And while he wanted his daughter to always see him as the hero she called him earlier, he was grateful that you made sure to make such a distinction in your words: he didn’t have to put the suit back on to be his little girl’s hero. That’s not who she saw him as anyway. She saw him as her hero because he was her dad — and that was enough for her.

There were times like this where he’d remember exactly why he chose to give everything up for you, why he chose you. You’d seen past the suit, past his public persona, saw all of the good and even more of the bad, and yet you still chose him first, still loved him, and still gave him the family he’d been craving even if it wasn’t how he’d imagined it for years on end. You gave him exactly what you’d promised if he chose you back: something real. And Christ did he love you for it.

Ben had never been very good at saying the three words that seemed to take no effort whatsoever to roll off your tongue every single day, even when it came to your daughter. While he might have had no issue speaking his mind back in the day, when it came to the two important things in his life, he struggled to put into words exactly how he felt about you two or to return the sentiment because it was unfathomable to him. He had never known that he could feel the love he did as a husband, a true partner, never mind as a parent. You both were his world and he wasn’t sure how he’d function without either of you in it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he functioned before either of you came along though a small dark part of him knew the answer to that: booze, drugs, sex, violence, and enjoying the Supe high life all combined. But right now, he was feeling that overwhelming feeling again that he hesitated to put a name to but deep down knew what it was. However, instead of just being able to say it, just once, he did the second best thing like he did every time you made him feel like this: he showed you.

He took your hand in his, squeezing, and glanced once more at Violet. Noting again that she was sleeping soundly, he then turned his attention onto you and led you from the room. Once her door was shut, he was on you, his kisses passionate and insistent yet desperate, his hands hungrily trailing your body, before he picked you up and walked you down the hall to your bedroom.

So watching him now making the snowman your daughter wanted — old hat, scarf, pipe, and all — you were amused but also couldn’t be prouder. Ben had heard you that night and he had chosen to be the hero his little girl wanted him to be: her dad while also being a good man and someone she could be proud of. It didn’t erase his past but it was just another step in the right direction towards his future. The suit was still hidden away in a closet but he hadn’t pulled it out for which you were also immensely grateful. Vought International and The Seven had been annihilated years ago at the same time Homelander had been killed. Supes had scattered across the globe, now not being run by one single entity anymore. Some had world governments after them for crimes they had committed previously and were still committing to this day. Compound V as well as Temp V had now unfortunately hit the streets so random fresh Supes were turning up everywhere. The world certainly had its hands full when it came to the whole Supe thing. Maybe it was incredibly selfish of you but you were relieved when Ben chose to stay out of the fray and instead concentrate on living the life he’d chosen to live with you and focus on your family.

Your grin grew when your daughter excitedly hurried over to you. “Mama, mama! Did you see the snowman Daddy made?”

“I did, kiddo. He looks great.” You arched a brow over at the snowman though when you noticed something. “Well, just a tiny bit lopsided, but that’s okay. It gives him character.”

Ben huffed, appearing next to you. “I don’t make lopsided snowmen.” He then turned to Violet. “Your mother needs to have her eyes checked.”

“Hey,” you cried out indignantly. “Who are you telling to get their eyes checked, old man? Considering it’s a lop-sided snowman, I say you should get yours checked.”

Ben flashed his teeth in a grin. “My eyes are perfect, like everything else about me.” You couldn’t help your eye roll though in your estimation, he wasn’t too far off the mark. Never aging thanks to Compound V would do that to someone you guessed. You tried not to be too envious when you remembered back to the few gray hairs you’d managed to find coming from your scalp a few weeks back.

Violet was giggling watching the two of you and you couldn’t help but join in her merriment. “Sure,” you teased. “So instead of Frosty the Snowman, we’ll call him Skewy the Off-Balance Snowman?”

Ben sent you a mock glare and you shrugged, smiling, making your daughter laugh again. He handed an old ratty coat to her. “Vi, why don’t you put on the finishing touches so your mom can stop being a critic and finally appreciate our hard work?”

“What? I am appreciating it. I even appreciate that you have to tilt your head a bit to see it straight. Off-kilter is all the rage now, I get it. See? I’m appreciating it.”

Your daughter grinned and took the proffered coat before rushing back over to the snowman.

Hands suddenly on your hips whipped you around and Ben was on you before you could utter another word. He kissed you hard and you swore you could see stars when he finally pulled back, letting you catch your breath. He smirked down at you, muttering “Pain in the ass” good-humoredly, before you both caught movement out of the corner of your eye. You both glanced over in time to see your daughter leap gracefully into the air to toss the coat onto the tall snowman. Ben’s smile was proud and you watched in awe as she landed lithely back down on the ground. As you had wondered often enough when pregnant with her, your daughter had inherited some Supe DNA from her father after all. Something you and Ben both worked hard with her to keep tamped down when in the presence of other children and especially their parents. Your life was blissfully lowkey, normal (as normal as it could be with two Supes in the house), and safe — you and Ben both wanted to keep it that way and you both especially wanted to make sure your daughter’s life continued in that fashion as well. You didn’t want your daughter to be ashamed of her special abilities and Ben was able to teach her restraint, something he had to teach himself long before she was born.

Ben watched as she used her strength to shift the snowman a little to the left so it would indeed be a little straighter. He rolled his eyes at your triumphant smirk but his smile never left as he cupped your face between his hands. “There. Happy?”

“More than you know,” you answered honestly. His smile faded slightly when he realized you meant more than the adjustment to his recent snow creation. You saw an all-too familiar internal struggle play out in his eyes that you had seen often enough over the years, especially lately. When he was making love to you; when he quietly watched you and your daughter working on her homework together; when he found you in the kitchen late at night when you couldn’t sleep and without speaking you’d turn on a slow song from his era and hold out an expectant hand to him; when you wrapped your arms around him from behind in a hug and snuck in underneath his arm as both of you observed Violet playing out in the yard with the dog she’d managed to convince you both to get — you knew what that struggle was and while it might have bothered another spouse that he never properly vocalized his feelings, you more than understood. How could you not after you knew how Ben had grown up, what he’d been taught? He’d made tons of strides over the years to undo all of that programming, but this…this was the hardest for him, and you knew why. So you didn’t push and instead willingly took what he gave you, knowing he was doing the best he could to show you how he felt instead.

You pushed yourself up on your toes and kissed him. “I love you, too,” you whispered, letting him know it was okay; you knew. You felt his thumb glide along your bottom lip as he studied you intently, and you could feel the heat radiating on the sides of your face. “I always forget how warm your hands are.”

He gave you a suggestive smirk. “You better not have forgotten how warm the rest of me is.”

“Might need a reminder,” you murmured, leaning into him.

His smirk widened. “Then you’ll get one.” He kissed you and before you could get too carried away, the sounds of your daughter giggling and calling “Daddy” had you both pulling apart. “Later,” he promised, pecking your lips one last time before looking over at Violet and the snowman whose apparel had changed to wearing her coat and hat instead.

Ben gave her an indulgent smile. “What’d you do, Princess?” Violet giggled again and her father shook his head as he headed over to her. You watched as he picked her up, tickling her and making her squeal in laughter, and you smiled. Life really didn’t get much better than this.

You laughed yourself when Violet tried to tickle Ben back.

Not by a long shot.

You gave your husband a tired smile when he walked into the room.

“Did she get to school okay?” You asked.

He nodded and removed his coat, hanging it up on the empty hook on the wall.

“And you gave her the envelope I left on the table, right? The one that had her pictures and money for the yearbook?”

“Yeah,” he gruffed out, taking the empty seat next to you and ignoring the curious stares directed his way. Ben was huge and even though he hadn’t been recognized in years, his hulking stature still attracted inquisitive gazes every now and then.

“Good. Thank you for doing that.”

He took your free hand and frowned when you involuntarily shivered.

Your smile was immediately apologetic. “I always forget how warm your hands are.” You gently gestured to your head where a cold cap sat. “This is freezing so with your hands, it felt like I stuck mine over a fire for a second.”

His frown intensified but he let your hand go.

“No, no, it’s fine.” You grabbed at his fingers and intertwined them with yours once again. “I like warm.” You then tried to give him a flirtatious smile. “You know that.”

His responding smile was more of a grimace but he kept his hand in yours. “There anything you need?”

You noticed that once again, he was hardly making eye contact with you while you were receiving treatment. You hated it when he did that though you understood. He hated to see you like this, knowing there was nothing he could do to help you. Correction, nothing you would let him do that is.

You’d found a lump in your breast during a self-exam and you’d gotten it checked out right away. More examinations and tests later, it was confirmed: you had cancer. Thankfully, it was not the aggressive kind but your doctor wanted to go after the tumor just as if it was anyway. Your daughter was only in high school; of course, you agreed to whatever plan the doctor suggested. So now here you were, getting chemo after a successful removal of the tumor.

Ben and Violet had been worried but you assured them that you would be fine, even if you didn’t know that to be true. Ben kept it together in front of your daughter, but once she had gone to bed, you could tell that even though he wouldn’t admit it, he was scared shitless. He knew what cancer meant like everyone else but he didn’t understand the mechanics of the treatments you would be receiving or the rates of survival depending on the ability to remove the tumor and keeping it from spreading versus the percentage rate of success of said surgery and treatments. He asked you question after question after question which you tried your best to answer while trying to keep from falling apart yourself. Eventually, he got frustrated and assured you he would get a hold of some Compound V. Though the government was still currently fighting the sale of the drug on the black market, they had to have some locked away for evidence or testing or they were just simply hoarding it. And if that didn’t work, he planned to track some down and get you a vial. Even if it was only Temp V.

You were horrified at this suggestion. “Ben, no. I’m not taking that stuff!”

“Why? It’ll make you healthy! It’ll get rid of this fucking cancer! Why wouldn’t you take it?”

“I can think of several reasons. If you break in somewhere to steal it, you can get caught and thrown into some max security prison or CIA black op site that I’ll never be able to get to, never mind being able to find, where they’ll keep you locked down with that gas! Or if you get it off of the street or from the black market, you have no idea if it’s been tampered with or if they’ve laced it with anything else. Temp V is completely out of the question, from a legit source or not. Not to mention, we don’t even know if this would work. It might not heal me or it could even kill me instead. That’s why!”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted.

“I don’t care. I’m not doing it, Ben.”

His eyes were darker than usual and he looked as if he was about to say something that you probably would both end up regretting. And sure enough, he did. “You’re fucking taking it and that’s it.”

“Excuse me?” You hissed. “This is my life we’re talking about. My life, my decision!”

“We are your life, goddammit!” He roared. Your eyes began to burn as you held back tears and he noticed the familiar sheen in them. When he spoke next, his tone was a bit quieter but no less firm. “So, it’s our decision. You’re taking it and that’s final.”

He had stormed out of the house after that and you had burst into tears. You knew he could hear you but he didn’t come back. You’d cried out all of the fear and anguish and despair you’d felt since receiving your diagnosis.

It was only later that night when Ben crawled into bed, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his body, that he whispered an apology into your ear. You squeezed his forearm, letting him know you’d forgiven him.

“If I can get a hold of some, will you please take it?” He begged.

You thought it over for a moment, weighed the risks heavily against the rewards that it could yield, and then shook your head. “No. It’s too risky. It could kill me, Ben. At least with the surgery and chemo, I have better odds.”

“What if I gave you some of my blood?” You heard his voice break near the end of his question and that shocked you. The entire time you’d known the man, he had never once cried. Not in front of you, at least.

You slowly turned in his arms and while you didn’t see any tears, you saw the shimmer in his green eyes along with pure, unadulterated fear that you’d only seen rare glimpses of over the years: during your pregnancy; the birth; when Violet was a baby and he held her small body in his too big arms, afraid he might break her; when you’d gotten into that car accident on the way to Vi’s dance recital that left you with a few scrapes and bruises; the one time a new Supe in the making claimed to the media that he didn’t believe the death rumors and he was hunting Soldier Boy down in order to prove himself as the strongest Supe which ended up with Ben relocating your family to somewhere even more lowkey (you’d had to talk him out of going to find that damn kid and teaching him a lesson). But now, here it was, naked and laid out plain for you to see. You’d been right; he was scared shitless.

You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair and he briefly turned to kiss your wrist. “We have two different blood types. It wouldn’t work.”

“I could find a scientist that’ll make it work. With all of these watered-down Supes running around, you can’t tell me there isn’t another Vogelbaum out there somewhere studying them. I could nab him and make him help us.”

You gave him a sad smile. “It doesn’t work like that. This isn’t something that can be fixed by some mad scientist or some miracle superhero-making drug.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Ben,” you pleaded. “Please…”

He laid a hand against your face and stared into your eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.” You heard the breaks in his voice again.

A tear slipped down your cheek and he gently wiped it away with his thumb. “One day, you’re going to. Whether it’s now or later, it’s inevitable.”

You could see how hard that hit him, even though you both had known this truth for some time. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought up the possibility of you taking Compound V in your relationship and it wasn’t the first time you’d refused.

He wanted to keep you with him, always. You didn’t want to live forever and once Violet came along, you definitely didn’t want to outlive your daughter. And that was only if the drug was successful and didn’t outright kill you. Not to mention, even if it was successful, who was to say that it would work for you the same way it worked for Ben? Perhaps you could still easily be killed or you would still age. Perhaps your abilities would be completely different to his. He’d offered to get you some Temp V to preview what it would do, but after what you’d seen happen to Billy Butcher from taking that stuff, you refused.

Now, having cancer, as much as that terrified you, you still didn’t want to risk it. The doctors knew you wanted to see your daughter graduate high school. That was enough for you, for now.

You’d watched as Ben compulsively swallowed and pulled you up to meet him. He kissed you and you could feel the desperation, this time layered by a whole new level of it. He’d made love to you that night, the most tender in his touches and movements since the accident. He took his time with you and even though fear clung thickly to both of you, by the end, you felt loved and cherished and warm.

Such a contrast to how you were feeling now. You let out another involuntary shiver and Ben frowned over at you. By now, he would have picked you up and deposited you on his lap, wrapping you in his embrace to warm you up. But he couldn’t due to the goddamn machine and tubing you were connected to. So instead, he got up and laid another blanket over you, leaning in to murmur into your ear, “When we get home, I’ll warm you up.”

He pulled back with a wicked smirk and you gave him a grateful smile before he returned to his seat. You knew he only meant that he would hold you until you warmed up or until he had to pick up your daughter. You were much too tired for anything else, especially after each treatment, something you hated but it couldn’t be helped. You missed being intimate with him, you missed having the energy to do your usual flurry of picking up after your family around the house, you missed being the one to take Violet to school every morning — you missed it all. You lived your life as normally as possible but the tiredness, the lack of energy, the sickness, the effects this drug had on your system…sometimes it was beyond frustrating and that was putting it nicely. But Ben and Vi had been there through it all, ready to help and step in wherever needed. Violet did her chores like always but she also helped her dad whenever he would allow her to. And Ben…well, he had really stepped up. There were zero complaints that men shouldn’t be doing the laundry or the cooking (something that had been a leftover contention point from the early days of your relationship). He did his best to help Vi with her schoolwork if she had any questions and you were napping. He did the picking up around the house now and he took care of you when you got sick, his nose no longer scrunching up at the smell of vomit (something you had noticed when you had morning sickness and he sat with you, rubbing your back; he later explained to you just how sharp his sense of smell was). He did everything you asked him to and even things you didn’t. He had been a pillar of strength and support that you hadn’t even known you’d needed in the beginning.

When he took your hand again, you carefully lifted his and kissed the back of it. “I love you,” you whispered, smiling as you nuzzled his warm skin.

He watched you, a familiar struggle taking place inside of him as a tell-tale shimmer started in his eyes that he didn’t want you to see. By the time you opened yours and looked over at him, the shimmer was gone and a tender smile was in place. “Back at you, dollface.” He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, staying like that a bit longer than he usually would have. You thought he was telling you what he still couldn’t put into words and he was. But he was also doing his best to warm you up. He’d felt the cold when you’d kissed his hand and rubbed your lips against it. Cold wasn’t something he felt easily so if he felt it, then he knew just how cold you really were. He hated these treatments, how sick they made you, how cold those damn caps made you (at this point, he didn’t care if you lost your hair, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you and he just wanted you warm and alive), he hated that there wasn’t anything he could to make you better — he hated it all. He meant what he’d said to you, when he got you home, he was going to strip you both down and hold you under the thickest, biggest blanket he could find in your house until it was time to pick up Vi from soccer practice. Warming you up, now that was something he could do. Which is exactly why he made sure to keep his lips connected to yours until the ice cold feeling disappeared and some color came back into them. He stared into your eyes, making you a silent promise that he would always chase the cold away and he would keep you here with him, warm, for as long as he could.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, not caring in the least that you might have an audience with other patients and their family members or nurses. You loved Ben with everything you had; you didn’t care who knew it or even saw it.

“Oh, come on!”

You could hear Ben’s chuckle from the other room and you smiled.

“You cheated!”

“No, I didn’t,” Ben insisted, sounding offended.

“Yes, you did! Dad, admit it!”

“Oh and you didn’t? Those bombs came out of nowhere, right?”

You heard your daughter groan. “It’s battle mode, Dad. You’re supposed to battle it out!”

“We did and I won.” You could practically see the triumphant smile on your husband’s face.

“Yeah, by cheating. What do you think, Rose?”

You could hear the poor girl practically stuttering out her response, trying not to offend either party. “Uh, I think it was…pretty fair…”

“What?” Violet yelled. “You call what he did fair?”

“Y-Yes?”

Ben let out another chuckle. “I knew I liked you, kid.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. The two most competitive members of your family had decided to play a video game while you were cooking to help pass the time. Vi had offered to help but you shooed her away since she had brought a friend home with her for the holiday. Ben had looked over at you expectantly, wondering what you would ask him to do, but you’d simply put a beer in his hand and sent him off to entertain the girls. He’d tried to hide his relief as he made his escape but you saw right through him. Thankfully, he didn’t see your own relief. You loved that Ben would do whatever you asked of him when it came to the kitchen, but sometimes he had his own way of doing things (from the time you’d been sick) and it clashed with yours. So, for a meal this large, as much as you loved him, you’d prefer for him to be out of the way. While it was a lot of work, your time to yourself in here was peaceful and you were amused at the bickering you overheard between Ben and Vi. Video games, board games, puzzles — it didn’t matter. If they were involved, there was bound to be claims of cheating by one of them or both, and massive competitive drives. You’d learned long ago to let them battle it out while you would be happy to be in 3rd place in Mario Kart or own St. Charles Place and maybe a railroad during a round of Monopoly. Most of all, though, you loved spending time with your two favorite people in the world, whether they were bickering over a game or competing against each other for a pixelated trophy on the television screen.

You heard voices start to rise slightly, Violet’s in particular. Someone else might have been nervous, especially for the young girl who was your guest, considering two Supes were locking horns, but you weren’t worried. Vi was now in college and thankfully, you’d been in remission for a couple of years. If your family had managed to survive that, you knew they’d overcome any argument over something as silly as who won a race between a plumber and a mushroom man.

But just in case, you called out, “Guys, remember it’s just a game, please. We have a guest.”

Sure enough, Violet lowered her voice but you could still hear her accusing her father who scoffed his denials. You rolled your eyes in amusement.

It wasn’t long before you felt strong arms wrap around you from behind, and lips pressed against your neck. “And the victor returns,” you murmured, smiling and leaning back into him.

“Mm-hmm,” Ben hummed against your skin. “He wants his spoils.” You felt him attempting to lift the hem of your dress and you slapped his hands away.

“Ben,” you hissed. “Not right now with our daughter and her friend in the next room.”

He didn’t let you deter him; he was determined. “Then let’s go upstairs while this bird cooks. The kids can entertain themselves for a few minutes.”

“A few minutes?” You teased. “You mean like this morning?”

Ben had sweet talked you into sneaking out to the garage after you set everything up and put the turkey in the oven. He’d had you up against the hood of your car, his hand covering your mouth as he went to town on you, both of you in a hurry because he’d heard your daughter starting to wake up on the floor above you.

Instead of being insulted or rolling his eyes and glaring over at you, a dirty smirk settled onto his face. “Mmm, that was hot. You were hot. So hot I want to lift this dress up and do that thing with my—”

A loud throat clearing coming from the other room had you both straightening up. Right. Your daughter shared super senses with her father. Whoops. “Uh, Mom? Is dinner ready yet?”

“Uh.” You quietly cleared your throat yourself as you moved away from Ben, making him frown. “Not for another two hours or so.” You had just checked the turkey before you’d been interrupted.

“Okay, well, Rose and I are going to go walk outside for a bit. We’ll be back.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Be careful and make sure to take your coats. It’s cold out,” you warned.

Violet laughed. “Yes, Mom.”

She must have said something too quiet for you to hear because Ben suddenly went rigid. “Listen to your mother,” he added for good measure.

Another laugh. “Sure, Dad.”

You continued prepping dinner and once you heard the front door shut, Ben was on you. “Ben,” you laughed. “I don’t have time!”

He picked you up and moved you to the one area of counter space that wasn’t covered. “Yeah, you do. There’s always time for a quickie.”

“A quickie? Another one of Ben’s infamous life rules?”

He lifted the skirt of your dress over your thighs and quickly worked your underwear down your legs. “Another one of my infamous life rules with you.” You and Ben were used to having the house to yourselves so anywhere, anytime had become a sort of routine you two had. You missed Violet tremendously but you also had time to physically reconnect with your husband.

Almost as if he heard the direction your thoughts were going in, he framed your face with his hands. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

You gave him a grateful smile. The truth was, while you were grateful to be in remission and for more time with your family, you had worried about the toll chemo had taken on your body as well as your sex drive. The doctor assured you that while it would take time, there was a good chance you would start to feel normal again. Ben had been understanding but you had been frustrated. However, the doctor was right; it took a while but you started to feel back to normal, libido included.

Luckily, you hadn’t lost a lot of your hair, the cold caps having helped, and once the treatments were over, whatever was gone did indeed grow back. Unfortunately, a lot of gray hair also came with it. You’d wanted to dye it back to your original color but Ben urged you not to. “You look fucking sexy as hell with it,” he’d murmured before you watched him nibble on your ear in the bathroom mirror. You knew his preference for older women, something you knew before you’d even gotten together, walking into the bar you’d found him in and seeing him making out with a grandma one time. So you knew your aging wasn’t an issue; he’d told you often enough that he didn’t care how old you got, he only wanted you. That was why he had wanted you to take Compound V, far before your diagnosis, because he wanted to be with you forever, or as long as forever would be given your actual life span and his. But you were still struggling with all of the changes your body had gone through in the last couple of years and you’d broken down into sobs, letting your face fall into your hands. He’d held you and whispered reassurances into your ear that everything was going to be okay.

And thankfully, he had been right. It had all turned out to be okay. You’d gotten to see Violet graduate, you’d gotten to go on campus tours with her as she decided on a college, you got to drive up with her and Ben to move her into her dorm room, you’d gotten to spend more time with your husband who loved you deeply — you’d gotten more time period.

And here you were, able to cook a full Thanksgiving dinner for your family on your own, and all three of you were thriving. Most people would be stating what they were thankful for on this day but you — the gratitude you felt overwhelmed you and it was something that couldn’t be put into words. You had a beautiful life, a wonderful life, a daughter just as beautiful and wonderful, and you were thankful for the man who had given it to you. Who had laid down his shield (and everything that came with it) and chosen to make this life with you.

You stared into his green eyes, seeing a certain amount of reverence mixed with affection watching you back. You felt his skin warm against yours, reminding you of all of the days and nights he spent trying to keep you warm during and after your treatments, and you smiled. “Your hands are so warm,” you whispered the familiar words. “I always forget how warm they are.”

And as expected, he grinned and responded with, “Not sure how, dollface. I never take them off of you.” He ran a thumb tenderly along your bottom lip. “And I never will.”

He kissed you then and you couldn’t help the tear that escaped and rolled down your cheek. The quickie ended up being not so quick. The turkey was a little drier than you liked but your family ate it all the same while Rose politely complimented you. Violet gave you a nod, smiling, missing her father unapologetically smirking over at you while shoveling forkfuls into his mouth. You gave him a look when your daughter glanced back down to her plate and he chortled before digging in again. You gazed around the table, smiling, content as could be. Gratitude. Thankful. Those were the two words that repeated themselves over and over in your head as you watched your family eat the food you’d cooked for them, even when Violet insisted that Ben had still cheated in Mario Kart, her father told her to let it go, and both agreed to a rematch right after dinner.

This is what you’d wanted back when you gave Ben your ultimatum, but never in a million years did you think you’d actually get to have it. Thankful indeed.

Being awash in these memories, you failed to notice that a tear was making its way down Ben’s cheek until it fell near your hairline when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. You didn’t really feel anything that wasn’t pain or cold, except for him. Even his tears were warm. So warm.

“Not sure how, baby,” he answered you, smiling, his eyes wet. “I always have them on you.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return at your familiar exchange. That smile fell, though, when you heard what he said next.

“I’m gonna get him. I promise you that.”

You could see the faint edges of Soldier Boy peeking through as you saw your husband’s green eyes harden in an all-too familiar fashion. You slowly shook your head, even that tiny movement causing you pain. “I don’t want that. I want you and Vi to be safe.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue but thought better of it. Instead, his eyes softened once more and he gave you a nod. “Okay, baby.”

You and Ben had been walking through town, buying last minute Christmas presents. Ben wanted to order them online and avoid the crowds, but you wanted to take a walk, breathing in the fresh air and be imbued with the Christmas spirit that permeated the town. Ben had begrudgingly indulged you and you enjoyed yourself as you bought gifts for Violet, her fiancee, and you even managed to sneak one for Ben when you’d sent him to ask the guy manning the stand in the outdoor market for a price on an item. The woman from the stand next door had just bagged your gift when you noticed a young man walking through the market, commanding everyone’s attention. He had a suit on with a cape so it was obvious he was a Supe and he was looking for something or someone. His eyes flickered in Ben’s direction, who had his back to him, and a dangerous smile formed on his face. Within seconds, you recognized him. He was the Supe you had seen on TV a few years back, though he’d been wearing a different suit then and he wasn’t nearly as bulked up as he was now. He was the one who had been saying he would hunt Soldier Boy down to kill him. You quickly glanced back at Ben who was completely unaware, involved in the discussion he was having with the older man. You saw the Supe’s eyes begin to glow and you knew what would happen before it did.

You dropped everything in your hands and ran as fast as you could towards Ben, yelling his name. He glanced up at you, his brows furrowed, and he tensed seeing your expression. It was mere moments that passed before you were in front of him and you felt a lava-hot feeling erupting from your insides, making you scream.

You fell to the ground and you watched as Ben went to catch you but was forced to let you fall when he looked up to see more lasers coming his way. He moved out of the way just in time. As you lay, unable to move, hearing some of the sounds of battle all around you and people screaming and stampeding out of the market while your ears were still ringing, you prayed to whoever was listening that your husband won and that he and your daughter would be safe.

It wasn’t until you heard something that sounded like a jet taking off into the sky and saw Ben’s boots come to a stop in front of you that you realized he had survived. You nearly cried at the sight of those worn work boots that you kept urging him to replace. He managed to roll you over though you cried out in pain as he did and he settled you onto his lap, his eyes wide as he took in your injuries. Not only could you feel how bad it was, but you could also see it on his face. It was a miracle you were somehow still alive, able to talk even, but you didn’t have long. You didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the rapidly-spreading cold wasn’t a good thing. Your hands and arms were practically numb at this point. And you thought cancer would be the one you’d have to worry about showing up.

“Make sure you take care of Vi. She’s going to need you,” you urged him.

He gave you another nod. “You know I will.”

“And don’t let that asshole find her.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes hardened again. “He won’t.” You knew what that meant but not having much energy left, you could only hope that when he thought back to this moment, he remembered what you had told him you wanted.

It worried you a little when he picked up your hand and kissed your palm that not only could you not feel it, but your hand looked the palest you’d ever seen it, even during chemo.

More tears rolled down your cheeks but you made sure to look up at him. You had no idea how much time you had left but you needed to tell him, you needed him to know. “Tell Vi that I love her and I’m so proud of her.” And you were. Inspired by what had happened to you years back, she became a doctor, specifically an oncologist. She was determined to find a cure and in the meantime, help people who had gotten some of the worst news of their lives. “And, Ben.. Thank you for our life together. Thank you for our daughter. Thank you for everything.”

You could see his eyes beginning to glisten once more and he compulsively swallowed. “I should be thanking you for that.”

“You made the decision to walk away. If you hadn’t…”

“It was an easy decision.”

You tried to give him a smile that probably came out more of a grimace. “No, it wasn’t. But I’m thankful you made it.”

He leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead before staring into your eyes. “I’m thankful for you.”

You tried to smile wider but instead a cough erupted out of you and you could feel something wet on your lip. Ben gently swiped his thumb across it, moving it out of your sight, and a slight panic set in when you realized you could barely feel the action. “Ben,” you croaked. “I’m so cold.” You could barely feel the pain anymore and it felt as if someone had turned on an A/C inside you at full blast and the icy air was making its way up to your head.

Ben attempted to give you a familiar smile. “Then I’ll warm you up, doll.” You heard the breaks in his voice but when he leaned down to kiss you, you let him, taking comfort in the familiar show of affection. You breathed through your nose and you relaxed, feeling the last bit of warmth that was infused into your lips.

Ben stayed there long after you took your last breath, long after you went limp. He knew you were gone but a small irrational part of him told himself that if he just kept trying to chase the cold away for you, he might somehow succeed. But ultimately, as he knew it wouldn’t, it didn’t work. He lifted his head and stared down at you, silently willing you to open your eyes. When you didn’t, more tears fell down his bearded cheeks and a sob tore out of his throat that he had no idea was there waiting to escape. “Baby,” he choked out, shaking you as gently as he could, still mindful of your wounds. But still, nothing. Then he said the words he’d always struggled to give voice to, thinking if nothing else would bring you back, this might. “I love you,” he let out in a broken whisper against your lips. When that didn’t work either, he knew that was it and subsequently broke down, rocking you tenderly in his arms as he buried his face in your neck while his shoulders shook. For the first time ever since becoming a Supe, Soldier Boy cried and didn’t care who saw it or knew about it. He ignored the cries of people looking for their loved ones, he ignored the police cars showing up and the sirens of the fire trucks on their way, he ignored people clamoring around the site asking what happened or trying to help others — he ignored them all. All he focused on was you. You had knowingly put yourself in front of those lasers to save him. …And now you were gone.

A/N: Please don't hate me. *ducks tomatoes and eggs*

Please let me know what you think. 👉👈

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfiction #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #human!female!reader #soldier boy x human!female!reader #thebiggerbear

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lurkingshan · 4 months

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I've been thinking a lot about the depictions of generational trauma and parental accountability being presented in dramas lately. Since you've watched way more than me, especially outside of BLs, what are some shows that present or include parental accountability?

This is such a good question and one I have been thinking about a lot since Last Twilight episode 10 aired. Westerners often assume that because of Asian cultural norms around filial piety, parental authority, and respect for elders, we can never expect satisfying parental accountability in our Asian drama narratives. But that's not true! It's been done and done well. It’s because these values are so deeply embedded in most Asian cultures that Asian creators are the best positioned to speak on the harms they can cause, and will often embed these themes in their work.

Now, there is an important distinction to make here: the difference between what characters do, and what the story communicates. A character may choose to abide by honoring their parents at all costs, but the story can still communicate how harmful that is. A character may never apologize for something they have done wrong, but the story can still make it clear they have fucked up and hold them accountable for that via tangible consequences. Here are a few examples from bl to illustrate what I mean, and the different ways this can show up in dramas.

Bad Buddy

One of the most obvious examples of parental accountability in genre, and also a pretty full metal version of it. This entire story is about the damage Ming and Dissaya did their sons with their decades-long feud and insistence on pushing that trauma down on their children, and we got some extremely cathartic scenes of Pat and Pran telling their parents exactly what they thought about that. Of course, even though they raged at their parents, they never got the apologies they deserved (and likely never will) and still had to hide their relationship to appease their parents going forward. But that doesn't mean there was no accountability here. The entire narrative held these parents accountable by showing us how they were harming their sons, forcing them to reckon with it, and ultimately showing them settling into a form of resigned acceptance.

Until We Meet Again

This entire show is about Korn and In's reincarnated souls healing from the trauma of their tragic ending, which was brought upon by the familial pressure and rejection they experienced from their fathers. We not only saw Dean and Pharm work through this trauma and forge new bonds with family members, we saw the direct aftermath of their first deaths, the despair and regret their families felt, and the ceremony that tied their souls together as a result. It's big karmic accountability on a grand scale, and the show never flinched from letting us see exactly how much harm was caused by these parents, or how the tenets of filial piety resulted in Korn's despair that he couldn't be what his father wanted. Even more crucially, we were shown, not just told, the counterpoint impact of good parenting, when Dean and Pharm were accepted by their families in their second life.

Blueming

A rare example of an Asian parent being called to the carpet, feeling the wrongness of their actions, and actually apologizing for it. This does in fact happen in drama! Si Won's mom raised him to hate himself, to be ashamed of his body, to fake his way through life so people would like him, and boy did it do a lot of damage. The story showed us how this affected Si Won and his relationships deeply, and brought him to the point where it finally burst out of him. And his mom, to her credit, was dismayed to understand what she had done to her son. This show also gets bonus points for Da Un standing up to his own mother after she interferes in the film contest.

Bed Friend

Uea's mother's sins against him are numerous, and I will not go into them all in detail to spare my own sanity. She is an abusive parent so horrific that she can never be forgiven, and doesn't need to be. An apology from her would be utterly meaningless. Instead, the drama holds her to account via showing us what she's done to Uea and the work he has to do to heal from the trauma she caused, and ultimately having her son cut her out of his life. It's the biggest consequence she can ever face for her choices and that Uea finds the courage to do it is the story's biggest triumph.

What Did You Eat Yesterday?

On the subtler end of the scale, we have our beloved KNT, which weaves parental accountability through its story in the long, slow journey for Shiro's mother to accept who he is and the partner he has chosen in life. What I love most about this particular depiction is that it's not at all linear in nature. We see her make strides by finally acknowledging Kenji and inviting him to her home, and then backtrack by rescinding the offer due to her own discomfort, and then include him in her family planning to ensure he will be cared for after her death. She’s homophobic and traditional, but she loves her son and sees how much happier he is with Kenji in his life. She is constantly reckoning with that tension. And Shiro and Kenji, being of an older generation themselves, don't hold it against her, even as the show makes sure we understand how much it hurts them. They are not okay with it, but they do understand why she's like this, so they take what she can give and forgive the rest. It's a really touching portrayal of this kind of impasse in a family.

Moonlight Chicken

There are several different vectors of parental accountability in MLC. There is Heart confronting his parents over their neglect and abuse and finally demanding to be treated with dignity. There is Li Ming directly calling out his mother for how her life choices have affected him. And there is Li Ming and his surrogate dad, Jim, working out their issues so that they can communicate better, and so that Jim can learn to stop pushing his own fears and anxiety down onto the next generation. All of it handled with deftness, with care, and with clear purpose to examine the ways intergenerational trauma can perpetuate in the absence of accountability.

#holding out hope that aof comes through on this in lt but compared to his previous work in this arena ep 10 was definitely lacking #last twilight #bad buddy #until we meet again #blueming #bed friend the series #kinou nani tabeta #moonlight chicken #shan answers #shan recommends

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famouscyclenerd · 19 days

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"Stay out of it. She's not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings." - ACOFAS

(Their book was not next)

"Let's focus on helping one sister before we start on the other."

"Shall I tend to my little garden forever?"

"He'd never once in the two years he'd known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court (the Night Court) ... it sucked the life from her."

"But Elain ... The Spring Court had been made for someone like her."

"With a new war possible and Briallyn up to her bullshit with Koschei, we need a strong ally. We need the Spring Court's forces."

"We need to tell him the news, and permanently station him (Lucien) at the Spring Court to contain any damage and to be our eyes and ears."

"Lucien can't be entirely trusted anymore."

"He should have asked someone before coming here how much time remained before Vassa would be forced to return to the continent - to the sorcerer-lord at a remote lake who held her leash, and had allowed her to leave only temporarily, as part of a bargain Feyre's father had struck."

"Lucien stared out the window - as if he could see the lake across a sea and a continent. As if he were setting his target."

"Find me when you wish to begin."

-- *contains minor HOFAS spoilers*--

There are so many more quotes I could include, but yeah. I just feel like elucien's book has been set up so perfectly in SF. And from what I've read, I just cannot comprehend how their book won't be next.

Vassa's time is extremely limited and the matters with Koschei seems rather urgent. Especially Tamlin and the Spring Court! We have Lucien back in Spring, who we appearently cannot entirely trust, and then we have Elain and how the Spring Court was made for someone like her. Who doesn't fit in the Night Court. Who finally wishes to spring into action.

Yes, Azriel had his own bc. But Elain was in that very bc as well as being mentioned in feysand's bc. She and Lucien were mentioned actually. Azriel was not.

Elain was also absent in HOFAS even though (as of SF) she no longer wishes to remain a passive character. It takes place months after the events of SF and (from what we've gathered) it doesn't seem like Azriel has it all figured out yet. Gwyn also returned to to library which, to me, seems like their story is put on hold... for now. Especially with Elain (finally) wanting to take action.

So my guess is that elucien's book is next and takes place before/during HOFAS, which would explain Elain's absence due to her not residing in the Night Court while Bryce was there.

While gwynriel's book happens during/after the events of HOFAS.

Having Azriel's book last is also a smart move from a marketing perspective since he is by far the most popular character. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#i really don't mind having az' book first #it's a win for me regardless #this is just my opinion #elucien #gwynriel #pro elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #pro elain #acotar

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venussss01 · 1 year

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just hold my hand

percy hynes white x actress!reader

summary: you’re a new actress and percy helps you with your nerves when going to your first premiere.

warnings: reader has anxiety, hand holding, basically just fluff, cheek kisses

writers note: i didn’t do a lot of research on the cast, so i’m kinda just going based off the top of my head when describing them. also this is my first story, so please let me know if i should make more and what you would like to see if i do make more.

(lowercase is intentional, y/c means your character, m/a means makeup artist)

—-

you were new to all of this. playing as y/c in wednesday was your first big role and you were more than nervous. you have only ever had small roles. even after meeting all of the cast and clicking with them almost instantly, you still didn’t know exactly what to say or do. it was 5:17pm, almost time for the premiere and your anxiety is getting out of control.

there’s only a couple of people who you told about your anxiety, emma and percy. they were who really helped you when you came to set. the others helped too but not as much as them. they were so welcoming and made you feel so comfortable. you felt like you would never have to hide who you really were with them.

ever since you met percy, you had found him attractive. veryy attractive. his green eyes, pretty smile, and long brown hair were so mesmerizing, how could you not? he was also very funny and crazy. he always found a way to make everyone laugh. he was your favorite. as for emma, she was so sweet. she has the purest heart. she’s also real fun and has an amazing personality. same goes for jenna, joy, georgie, hunter, naomi, lucius, moosa, isaac, and the rest of the cast.

you were very happy with where you were in life. but because of how popular wednesday has become, there were so many cameras and articles on you. it was nerve wracking. but now you were getting your hair curled, while also getting your makeup done. the dress you were about to put on was a light gray/blue slim dress with an open back. it was very fancy. and probably very expensive but you weren’t worried about that.

you were worried about having so much attention on you. it was 5:48pm as soon as you were finished getting ready and you wanted to see percy. you needed to and fast. you knew he would help. he was only in the room across the hall, so you knew it wouldn’t be hard to find him. but when you knocked no one answered. you knocked a few more times until his makeup artist opened the door.

m/a: hi sweetie, how can i help you?

y/n: oh hi, is percy there?

m/a: oh no you just missed him. he went to get his tie in hunter’s room.

y/n: okay, thank you.

you then rushed to hunter’s room and knocked repeatedly. he opened the door and he could already tell that you were nervous because of how you were playing with your hands. secretly everyone knew that you had anxiety. even if you try to hide it, you don’t do a very good job. everyone also knew that when you are nervous you are more likely to be with percy or emma.

hunter: oh y/n, percy isn’t here.

y/n: where could he be?

you thought out loud and ran off before hunter could say anymore. you were now running down the hall looking for percy. this was scaring you. what if something bad happened. what if he got hurt. you were too caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize you bumped into someone. percy. you hugged him immediately. and it all had happened so fast, it took him a moment to notice is was you. but when he did, he hugged you back.

percy: you okay, bunny?

y/n: no

you hugged him even tighter and he kissed the top of your head. it was now 5:56pm and everyone was starting to head to the limo.

percy: we gotta go.

y/n: i’m scared.

percy: it’s okay, i’ll be with you the entire time. if you need just hold my hand.

y/n: okay.

since then you hadn’t let go of his hand. not once. you held it through the ride and during the entire premiere. you worried he might of thought of you as annoying or too clingy because of this but in all honesty he didn’t mind. he liked that you always wanted to be with him. the feeling was mutual.

when the premiere ended it was was almost 7:20pm. everyone was finishing up interviews and some were already leaving. you and percy are walking out hand in hand.

percy: see wasn’t so hard, was it?

y/n: it wasn’t so bad… thank you. i don’t think i could’ve ever done that if it weren’t for you.

you kiss his cheek and notice a slight blush appear on his cheek.

percy: anything for you bunny.

now it was your turn to blush. once you got to the hotel, you two split and said goodnight. jenna, joy and emma were sitting on your bed talking. you walked out of the bathroom, in your pjs and sat next to joy. you guys ordered dinner and hung out for a while. it was almost 10pm and you were getting tired.

emma: sooo, how was your nighttt?

y/n: it was good.

emma: ooo, i bet it was.

y/n: what’s that supposed to me?

joy: oh come on, you were holding percy’s hand all night and even kissed his cheek.

jenna: you like him, don’t you?

y/n: what, no! i don’t what you guys are talking about. and i have to go to sleep, so goodnight.

you got under the covers, closed your eyes and fake snored. they laughed and went to sleep themselves.

the end

—-

#percy hynes white x actress!reader #percy hynes white #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe smut #wednesday #jenna ortega #emma myers #hunter doohan #georgie farmer #joy sunday #wednesday cast

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cloudywriting05 · 6 months

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enjoy the silence. ｡˚⋆☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆ peeta mellark. {1}

→ THG peeta x fem-reader 3 parts.

→ 1, 2, 3

→ may be grammar errors

→ tw: mainly fluff, mentions of anxiety, some 18+ content, partial smut etc.

→ summary: you and peeta are the district 12 tributes for the 74th annual hunger games. you have severe anxiety, and peeta knows how to calm you down, somehow.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

You stared aimlessly out of the window hoping, wishing, something or someone would come and save you from your situation. Looking down at the Capitol buildings, inside of the apartments, wondering what your life would've been like had you been one of them instead. Your eyes continued to wander.

The Capitol looked peaceful at night, but it did not bring you an ounce of comfort. You knew you were going to die in that arena in 8 days, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The thought of your own gruesome death made your heart speed up, along with your body temperature. Your breaths became quicker and suddenly you found yourself holding your chest, begging yourself to stop the incoming attack.

"Hey."

The familiar voice startled you. You turned around and met eyes with Peeta, your fellow tribute. "Oh, hey. What're you doing in here?"

"I just wanted to check in on you, you seemed really out of it at the table."

"I'm fine, I'm just– I'm thinking right now."

"About what?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.

"Come here and look at this." You said. He silently agreed and made his way towards you. He propped himself right beside you and stared out the window patiently.

"What am I looking at?"

"Look at those apartments. They get to go to sleep at night knowing they'll never have to experience what we're about to go through, I'm mad about it."

"Some people are just born lucky and ignorant. They don't have any original or real life experiences and, I'd rather die in the games than like that."

"They're gonna watch me die in a couple of days." you felt that pit in your stomach again by the end of the sentence. Your body tensed up and your heartbeat sped up without any hesitation. Your inhaling got louder and suddenly your hand was right back on your chest.

Peeta's head shot towards you, "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna die." You dropped to the floor in a squat and held the sides of your head. You couldn't contain your tears and within an instant, you were a mess. Your head buried between your thighs, and every realisation hitting you like a brick in that exact moment. You were gonna die, and every way that it was possible would not stop running through your head.

You felt arms embrace you. "Listen to me, breathe, it's okay."

"Peeta, I'm gonna die."

"No, you're not. I promise you, you're not. Sh, sh, look outside for me." His hand caressed the top of your head, encouraging you to follow his words. Your watery eyes opened to the view of the Capitol once again. "It's quiet, the entire Capitol is silent. It's never like this."

You sniffled quietly, he was completely right. "It never is, they made so much noise when we came."

"I know, it's silent for us. Enjoy it while we can." You peered up at him, he was already glancing down at you.

It was never like you, never in your character to randomly kiss anyone but in that moment, in that time; it felt right. You slowly leaned, hoping to God he would lean right back. And so he did. You felt his lips press softly against yours. You pulled away suddenly and sprang to your feet as fast as you could.

"This is insane."

"What? Did I do something? I'll leave, I'm sorry." He apologised, his eyebrows furrowed.

"No, it's fine, Peeta. You didn't do anything, it's me. I just kissed you after barely speaking to you back home, it's selfish and weird of me."

He picked himself off the floor right after and stood across from you. "Selfish, how? I've wanted that to happen for the past seven years of my life. Don't act like you don't know how I felt about you before we got here, I made it clear."

"I know, and that's why it's selfish. I don't wanna kiss you because of the situation we're in right now, because I know I wouldn't be able to bring myself to do it back home. It's not like me, Peeta."

"I know how you're like. You would panic over what bread to choose back home for your family. All I could think about while we got here is if you were gonna panic and die on me in the train. Look, If you need space, I'll step out, okay?"

"No. Stay here with me. Please?"

"Always."

Within minutes, you were resting on with Peeta. Your head on his chest, your hand over his heart. His heartbeat calming yours. You didn't want to think about how this was temporary, or the wasted opportunities back home. You were here with him now, he calmed you down and now you're okay.

"Peeta."

"Yeah?" He replied.

"Can we try and win?" You asked. Not for your district, not for anyone, but because you wanted more nights like these. In his embrace, talking to him like this.

"Of course, of course."

#peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #thg #thg series #peeta x reader #peeta x y/n #peeta x katniss #peeta smut #the hunger games peeta #josh hutcherson #Spotify

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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 years

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The Royal Blood Pt. 2

Male Yandere Vampire x Gender Neutral Vampire Reader (CW: Dub-con, vampires, vampirism, blood, blood drinking, minor character death, general yandere behavior, marriage, oral sex, smut.) Word Count: 2.1k (Sorry if this is not as good as part one, I still tried to make it nice, I hope everyone enjoys. I know I kinda rushed writing it and it may not be my best work. Art of Ericke made by the ever amazing @reiyn02) Part 1 can be found here: The Royal Blood Pt. 1

It had been months since Prince Ericke had turned you into a fellow vampire. You had been traumatized by your sudden transformation, dark cravings, and the death of Owen, who had been your only friend. You became more quiet and withdrawn at his loss. You had tried to go without blood a couple different times but each time it turned you near feral and all Ericke had to do once you got to that point was hold a chalice of blood up to your lips and you instinctively swallowed down every drop, unable to prevent yourself from giving in. You hated being a monster. And you desperately wanted to hate Ericke just as much, if not more, but as much as you tried you could not help but feel the torturous flutter of butterflies in your belly every time he held you. Any animosity towards him that you managed to muster just melted away with a simple touch of his hand. Despite your amorous feelings for the prince, you would probably still have tried to escape again anyway, but he was smart. He knew you would not leave now that you were turned, you did not want to hurt anyone and you could not stand the thought of extracting a human’s blood yourself. So with him you would remain Mercifully, he always got blood for you so you never had to feed from someone yourself, and instead of him getting it from random villages he now collected it from prisoners sentenced to die or those who were in there for life. Even if they somehow found out they were being fed upon, who would believe them? He had also remained true to his promise, instead of his poorly and conflictingly treated servant he treated you like the most precious treasure owned by any member of the royal family. And, aside from when he was gathering blood, he kept you with him constantly. Meetings, meals, outings, everywhere he was you were surely by his side with your hand in his as he gently thumbed the brand mark that denoted you as belonging to him. You were always quiet and subservient to whatever he wanted to do and went with him willingly. He was not too concerned with your reticence. The fact that you were so good and obedient and always at his side was enough for him at the moment, besides he could hear the way your heartbeat picked up when he held you, he knew you would liven up and love him openly eventually. Ericke also figured you would need some time to get used to being around other nobles and people of wealth and importance. And he was not wrong, it was very nerve wracking to be surrounded and judged by people who felt like you were as dirt on their shoes. The party he held for the announcement of his engagement and to introduce you to the people of high society was a good example. There were so many people all muttering and staring in your direction during the entire event. “Don’t worry babe, you’ll be fine, you’re better than any of them anyway.” You literally clung, much to your fiancé's delight, to Ericke’s arm the entire time as he whispered in your ear pointing out who was who and little details about them. It was a miserable time for you, you had to greet them all individually and you could practically feel the scorn they all had for you, particularly the ones who had had plans to court or be courted by your prince. As if you had even asked for it. After you had been introduced to everyone and greeted them all individually you stayed only as long as was required by polite society standards before Ericke rushed the two of you out and back to his chambers. As much as Ericke had enjoyed you clinging to him for dear life because of your anxiety he knew it was time to go when your beautiful eyes threatened to cry. “You did really great, baby doll.” He kissed you gently on the forehead and pulled you into his lap after he sat on the bed. You started sobbing but he held you close and wiped all your tears away. “Shhh, you did fine, I don’t care what they think anyway. I know how wonderful you are.” He held you tighter. You did care about how they saw you though. So many people judging and hating you just for taking the handsome Prince Ericke Ashfall off the market and for being lowborn while doing it. Your super sensitive ears even picked up Lady Caroway, head of her house, making absolutely terrible comments about you, someone she had scarcely met. But your dearly betrothed had heard those comments too. And Lady Caroway had gone mysteriously missing. You knew what had happened, the blood he served you that day was clearly identifiable as hers by the scent. You did not let on that you knew what he had done to defend your honor, but you were very cuddly and clingy that night. It was the first time you ever graced his cheek with a kiss. Ericke could tell you knew though, he made a mental note to give you the blood of anyone you could hear insulting you in an overly cruel manor. You probably should have been mortified that he had killed someone so casually just for being mean to you, but honestly you were more worried about why you appreciated it so much. Maybe it was just part of being a vampire. Or maybe it was partly due to drinking blood, it always seemed to make you a bit more clingy. Maybe it was just that after he had kept you captive and forced you into a life of vampirism your brain latched on to any shred of decency he showed you. Whatever the reason, defending you in such a way really made you start to appreciate him a lot more. Ericke was pleased that you were less quiet and had started to open up to him more. It made planning the wedding a whole lot easier, he did not do a single thing without asking for your opinion or input, though he did have to deny you your request for a smaller ceremony. This was his chance to show the entire kingdom how much he loved his darling, his chance to cement once and for all in the jealous minds that envied you that it was you he valued above any of them. And when the big day came no one could claim it was anything less than spectacular. The color scheme of course matched the royal family’s colors, purple and white. Even in your mounting anxiety you had to admit everything looked astonishingly beautiful. A rug had been placed down the length of the grand hall, white with purple trim. It alone was surely worth more than the entire hovel that you used to live in. The normal chandelier had been swapped out and now there was a new gleaming silver chandelier hanging from the roof, three ringed tiers of candles, two rings of candles were white and the center ones were purple. All the candles produced a brilliant violet light, casting the entire room in a surreal amethyst glow. Banners that bore the royal crest, in the same colors as the rest of the décor, now hung from the walls. Curtains that usually concealed the windows had been drawn back to reveal a lovely view of the full moon that adorned the clear night sky and of the black pond below that reflected the moonlight perfectly in its still waters. Two large tables on each side of the room were completely covered by food and drinks of all kinds imaginable for the reception. It was all truly magical. You trembled nervously but managed to collect yourself and focus on performing the bonding ceremony. You each took one side of a silver ribbon and tied it together before kissing one another deeply on the lips. This was the first time you had kissed him upon the lips. It felt exhilarating, amazing, and right. The festivities after that lasted well into the night, but when they finally faded away Prince Ericke took you into his arms with that surprising strength of his and carried you all the way to your shared bed chamber. He placed you delicately upon the bed, as if you were a fragile snowflake that would melt at the slightest touch. Ericke then locked the door and lit all the candles in the room before crawling above you. “Now for the real bonding baby doll.” Before you could ask what he meant his mouth was at your neck, the familiar graze of his fangs ghosted your sensitive skin before he slowly sank into you and drank of your cursed blood. You moaned loudly and unexpectedly, this felt so much better than when he fed on you when you were a human. You were a bit light headed when he finished drinking from you and lifted your head to his neck. You were not keen to bite someone, but you let your instincts take over as you followed his lead. Your top canines elongated into fangs and you carefully bit your new husband and suckled from his wound. He had to stifle a moan. When you were done you were blushing and felt very warm. Almost dizzy. It was amazing. You didn’t know that when two vampires feed from one another it binds them together in a manner far more intimately than sex or a mere mortal marriage ever could. It was a connection that only two vampires in love could ever possibly share. It was worth being a vampire to experience this. Even so you both still wanted to make love and you pulled him close and grinded your crotch against his as he kissed you, sliding his tongue into your mouth as you shared the flavors of your blood with one another. He ended the kiss and began to disrobe before removing your clothing. He had seen you naked before, but you had never been more beautiful to him, laying there in a beam of moonlight, your blood and his smeared on your lips, eagerly waiting for him to enter you. Ericke kissed and licked from your waist to your crotch, licking what he found there tenderly. He intended to take his time, he had waited for this moment with his darling for a long time and he wanted to savor it. His mouth work was a bit sloppy, he was the prince and not used to servicing someone in such a way, but what he lacked in experience he made up for with enthusiasm. You stroked his hair as his mouth kept busy working on you before finally making you cum hard all over his face. He wiped his face and licked his fingers and your crotch clean. “By the gods, (Y/N), that was even better than your blood.” Ericke took a bottle of oil and lubed the both of you up really well until he was sure he could slide in you easily, he tested your entrance with a couple of carefully placed fingers to stretch you out and ready it for him. When he was certain he would not harm you he lined his cock up with your hole and slid into you with a sigh of contentment. Your insides were so warm. And all for him. The thought almost made him blow his load right then and there. He slid his length back and forth at a steady rhythm inside you as his hands held your hips. A scarlet blush spread upon his pale flesh seeing your pleasure-drunk face and knowing he was the cause, he was the source of that joy and ecstasy you were feeling. Your prince grabbed your hips and began to go a bit faster, careful not to go too fast and end things too soon, he wanted to ingrain the sight of you laying there beneath him for the first of many times into his brain until the day the world crumbled into dust. He leaned close and began sucking your neck where he bit you previously, not to suck your blood this time, just to mark you. A second orgasm made your body quiver as he continued targeting your neck with his affections, after you came though he could only hold back his own climax a few more seconds before unloading his nuts deeply into you. After a moment for both of you to catch your breath he went to start a bath for the both of you. He laughed to himself, reminded of the night he first brought you here, when he was afraid to admit his attraction to you, it all seemed so silly now since after he worked so hard to make you his in every possible way.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere exo #yandere vampire #yandere male #male yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere husband #vampire husband #vampire boyfriend #My OCs #my OC Prince Ericke Ashfall

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gamerwoo · 8 months

Text

Hyunjin: Age-Restricted (Part Seventeen)

Characters: Hyunjin x female reader (ft other skz members)

Genre/warnings: nanny!reader, ex-porn star/neighbor!hyunjin, generally inexperienced and painfully shy virgin!reader, angst, humor, fluff toward the end (ur welcome), sorta hurt/comfort i think???, mentions of porn and sex work (minors dni!!!)

Word count: 3,937

Summary: You think it’s luck when the new family you nanny for is so stupid rich that they rent you a fancy new apartment just so you can live closer to them. You think it’s luck when the guy across the hall is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your entire life and makes an effort to talk to you. But that’s just about where your luck runs out, because Hyunjin is more out of your league than you could ever imagine, and you’re just some hopeless virgin who never had good luck in the first place.

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Changbin walked into the house with the brownies in one hand. He found Hyunjin leaning against the counter by the stove while his girlfriend cooked dinner for the three of them. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Of course she would decide to cook despite working that day. She’d rather cook and be sore than let Hyunjin anywhere near the stove.

“You could’ve ordered something,” Changbin spoke up, letting his presence be known to the pair. Hyunjin looked up from his phone but Kit didn’t even turn to look at him. “Or you could’ve asked me to grab something.”

“It’s fine,” she hummed, not sounding bothered in the slightest.

“It’s not fine, she complained as soon as she got home that everything hurts,” Hyunjin stated, throwing her under the bus.

She turned her head to glare up at him, “You try being folded into a pretzel all day.”

Hyunjin just gave her a blank look before she just sighed and mumbled, “Yeah, I know.”

“So you weren’t the one doing the folding today?” Changbin chuckled. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Being the pretzel is far worse,” she huffed.

“Then why are you standing and cooking? Go lay down.”

“Oh, and let Hyunjin cook?” she finally turned around to face her boyfriend. “Why don’t we just give him some gasoline and matches while we’re at it.”

“Order something, Kittery,” Changbin chuckled.

“I don’t wanna,” she whined. “I want home cooked.”

“Lucky for you, these are,” he smiled, holding out the container of brownies.

The pair’s eyes went wide, having forgotten about Changbin’s promise to bring home brownies that day. Kit eagerly took them from him and immediately popped open the lid. As Hyunjin got as close to her side as possible to grab one, Changbin walked over to him and nudged him before he could get one, taking the yellow paper from his pocket.

“This is for you,” he said, giving him the folded square.

Hyunjin’s eyes furrowed, but he turned to take the note and unfolded it. Almost immediately, his face fell.

Kit had turned around and was on her tiptoes by Hyunjin’s shoulder, trying to read, “What is it?”

Changbin shrugged, “It’s from _____.”

Kit looked at her boyfriend with wide eyes, but Hyunjin’s were still scanning down the page as he read.

‘We both know how we feel about each other, and I’m not your charity case. I’m not yours to worry about. You’ve reminded me plenty of times. Stop paying for my apartment. I’m moving out either way.

Fuck you.

_____’

Kit gasped loudly before exclaiming, “YOU’RE PAYING FOR HER APARTMENT?!”

Hyunjin held his ear closest to Kit, flinching away from her. But he didn’t even bother replying to her or scolding her because his brain was elsewhere. Instead, he glared at Changbin.

“How the hell did she find out?!” he demanded.

Changbin shrugged again, “I don’t know, she just ran into me when I went to get the brownies. She was at the front desk and gave me the note. I’m just the messenger, okay? I didn’t even know you were paying her rent.”

“Why are you paying for her entire fucking rent?!” Kit continued. “Hello?”

Hyunjin looked obviously stressed as he ran his fingers through his hair, finally looking at Kit, “I don’t know, okay?! It felt like the right thing to do!”

“You don’t even like her, that doesn’t make sense, Hyunjin!” she pointed out.

“Just because I’m mad at her doesn’t mean I want her to be homeless!”

“So you still care about her?” she pressed.

“I don’t know!” he whined. “I guess!”

Her eyes widened as everything clicked, and she got a wide smile on her face, pointing accusingly at him. “You love her! Hwang Hyunjin, you’re in love! You can’t tell me you’re not, I know you are! You wouldn’t pay thousands of dollars a month for just anyone!”

He let out an annoyed sigh and threw out his hands, “Okay, so what if I am?! Who cares?! Not her! Because she fucking hates me!” he let out a sigh, trying to calm himself down, but he looked and sounded defeated when he spoke again. “It’s too late now. I mean, I ended things, and then she said she only wanted me so she could lose her virginity.”

“If you know she doesn’t actually care about you, why would you pay for her stuff?” Changbin wondered.

Hyunjin just shrugged, “I don’t know. Because…I do love her even if I don’t want to… Even if she hurt me…”

Changbin let out a small sigh and looked up at his friend seriously, “Hyun, is there any way that maybe this is all just some big miscommunication?”

“I heard what I heard,” he stated surely. But he rolled his eyes like he just wanted to forget about the whole thing before he grabbed his keys off the counter and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Kit asked him, following behind him.

He turned and waved the note, “I have to take care of this.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Changbin questioned. “Tell her it’s not you?”

“Yup.”

And then the door slammed behind him, leaving the couple stunned in their house.

Kit suddenly whipped around to Changbin and gave him an accusing look, “You lied to him. You absolutely knew what that note was.”

Changbin just smirked, “Yup.”

“But now he’s gonna go lie and make it worse,” she pointed out.

“I have a feeling the truth will come out this time. He’s worked up and so is she. It has to come out.”

“Doesn’t that just mean they’ll blow up at each other?”

Changbin sighed, “Lovebug, I’ve known Hyunjin for years. I know how he works better than he does.”

“But you don’t know _____ that well. What if things get worse?”

“I had a chat with her about her side of things. If they want things fixed, I’m willing to help. But they need a chance to do it themselves.”

Kit’s eyes brightened as she looked at her boyfriend, “Tell. Me. Everything.”

“He what?!”

Suddenly, there were double the people on the screen, all trying to cram in to look at you. Chan and Jisung were overpowered by Minho and Seungmin, but all four of them looked absolutely flabbergasted at what you’d told them.

“Your rent is being paid with that porn star money!” Minho gasped.

“How did he even switch the payment over?” Chan wondered.

“I kinda forgot to ask at first, so I had to go back downstairs and ask Jihoon,” you admitted, running your free hand that wasn’t holding your phone through your hair. “He said the parents came back and paid to end the lease early, which meant the apartment went back up for grabs basically immediately. So that means Hyunjin had to buy the apartment after that. So he already paid for the first three months of rent because that’s the policy for renting here.”

“Holy shit,” Minho breathed. “Are we sure we don’t want to try again with him?”

“No, we hate him,” Jisung stated, giving him a disgusted look.

“But I sent Changbin with a note to give him basically telling him to fuck off and stop paying for it, and if he doesn’t listen, I guess I’ll have to figure that out,” you continued. “I guess I could just…move out anyway. It’s not my problem if he’s wasting money on an empty apartment.”

“No, keep the free boujee apartment!” Minho insisted. “Ooh! Or let me secretly move in! You can just take my room.”

“Why would he even do that, though?” Seungmin questioned. “Is this really the same dude who was using you? Why would he drop that much money to keep you from getting kicked out?”

“You think I know?” you huffed. “I’m just some silly little jobless i–”

“And bitchless,” Minho chimed in.

“Jobless and bitchless–”

There was a knock at the door and you immediately looked straight at the door. Part of you wondered if it was Jihoon with your eviction notice. You wondered if he just did the work for you and removed Hyunjin from the billing information because he knew you were pissed off about it.

“What?” Jisung asked.

“Shh!” Seungmin hissed.

“It might be Jihoon,” you told them, but you kept your voice down just in case it was someone else. “I’ll call you guys later.”

“But we’ll be quiet,” Minho whined.

“Just let her go,” Chan sighed. “Jesus.”

Then he ended the call before any of them could protest.

You got up from the couch, leaving your phone there as you went to the door, going carefully and quietly. You looked through the peephole and your heart jumped into your throat.

Hyunjin.

He stood in the hallway, still looking perfect as always. His hair that you had once bleached blonde for him and the roots had grown out, was now completely dark brown, almost black. It was in the typical half-up, half-down, and he was wearing a white Adidas tank top that was tucked into black Adidas joggers.

You hated that you still found him to be the most ethereal looking person you’d ever seen, even in such a basic outfit that he had probably just been lounging around in.

Either way, you decided to carefully step away from the door, turning back around to go hide away in your room for a while.

“_____, I know you’re in there,” you heard him call like he knew you had just turned around.

You stood there for a moment, frozen and silent, considering ignoring him again.

“Hanni already told me you’re up here,” he stated when you didn’t reply.

She’s really on a roll today, you thought to yourself.

Finally, you let out a sigh and turned back to the door, “So?”

“So open the door,” he demanded, not raising his voice but definitely sounding angry and frustrated.

Well, you didn’t really have many other options. If you continued to ignore him, he’d probably just keep yelling through the door. Hell, he’d probably go downstairs and get a spare key since he was the one paying for the apartment. He was the owner of it now so what kept him from being locked out?

Reluctantly, you pulled open the door.

Immediately, Hyunjin stepped forward, so you stepped back, and he held up the note you’d given to Changbin, “What the fuck is this?!”

The only other time you’d seen him mad was when he’d shown up at Chan’s apartment, and it kind of scared you because you hadn’t seen him mad before. This time was no different, but you refused to back down. Your anger you felt toward him wouldn’t let you cower and stand there without speaking.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice quieter than his but it was unwavering. “Didn’t you read it?”

“Yes, that’s why I’m asking,” he stated in an exasperated tone.

You shrugged, though the building anxiety from the confrontation was making your hands start to shake already, “It’s pretty self-explanatory then.”

“Why would you think I’m paying for your apartment?” he demanded, his voice getting louder.

“Drop the act, Hanni already slipped up and told me.”

Like a switch was flipped, Hyunjin’s hand dropped to his side and he let out a deep sigh, rolling his eyes before he started grumbling about how he made all the front desk workers promise to keep it a secret, and then something about money.

You quirked a brow, “Didn’t Changbin tell you? He was there.”

He groaned and dropped his head back as everything started clicking.

“Of course he didn’t tell me!” he said with an annoyed smile. “Why would Changbin tell me when he obviously wanted me to come talk to you. That would be stupid of him.”

You chose to ignore his annoyance because honestly, that wasn’t your problem.

“So why are you paying for my shit, exactly?” you asked, changing the subject back to the original issue. “Where did you find the audacity to think it was fine for you to do that? Actually, what made you think I would want you to do that? What made you think I wanted anything to do with you, actually?”

“I’m the reason you got fired, so I’m responsible,” he told you like it was obvious. “Hence, I should make sure you don’t end up homeless.”

You let out a sigh of your own eyes rolling out of how tired you were of having to tell him this.

“You don’t have to be responsible for me!” you burst. “You said it yourself: we’re not dating. I’m not yours to worry about. I already told you I quit because of my morals, not because of anything to do with you!”

You could feel hot tears wanting to burn your eyes. You felt so many emotions while you argued with Hyunjin about the same shit again, and saying the things he said to you just made them sting all over again. And all you could think about was the one thing he said to you that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“I’m just some stupid loser virgin or whatever, right?” you mumbled, looking away from him and crossing your arms over your chest, trying so hard not to cry in front of him. That was the absolute last thing you wanted.

Hyunjin’s stance relaxed slightly when he saw your eyes get glossy. He let out a sigh and his anger seemed to fade, at least mostly.

“I didn’t mean it when I said that,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “Honestly, once I cooled off a little, I really regretted even saying it. I know how much it bothers you, and in the moment, I just wanted to hurt you like you hurt me.”

“That’s not fair,” you grumbled, still not meeting his eyes. You sniffled to try to keep the tears back. “I never said a-anything mean about you.”

Your voice broke, and the tears started coming. But you quickly started wiping them away, refusing to break down just yet. Not while Hyunjin was still standing only a few feet away from you and basically in the doorway to your apartment.

“You and I both know I heard what you said when you were at your old apartment,” he reminded you.

“Okay, but you didn’t hear all of it!” you burst, your lower lip quivering. You wiped stray tears away and took a deep breath before continuing. You were honestly trying to not have an entire panicked breakdown having to confront Hyunjin like this. “We were trying to just make light of the situation because I was so tired of just crying all week, and I thought joking about it would just make it less…sad? Embarrassing? Whatever. I just wanted to joke about it because it felt so shitty and embarrassing, but I never once used you for anything. I mean, you’ve literally seen me panic over a fucking kiss, and you think I could even try to use you? The amount of times you had to calm me down to do anything– How would that even make sense? I didn’t even know about the porn thing until the day you fucking ended everything!”

While you talked, you could see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head. You could see the way your words were starting to add up with the things he’d heard, and everything was starting to make sense.

You took another deep breath to calm yourself because you were getting too worked up again. Then you continued, “The guys joked about how I fumbled you, and I went along with the bit. I was using humor to cope because you used me and I felt embarrassed because I fell for it, and I felt gross because I was just some corruption kink to you. I was just some stupid fucking loser who still had her virginity, and that’s all I was. I liked you a lot, and you never felt anything. It’s fucking embarrassing, Hyunjin. But…yeah. That’s it.”

You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way his heart absolutely shattered hearing you talk. Not only about how you thought he hurt you, but the way you talked about yourself. It hurt him to hear that, and it showed on his face.

“_____, I was never using you,” he told you softly, taking a step forward and reaching his hand out like he wanted to cup your face. But he thought against it, dropping his arm and letting the note you’d written him fall to the floor. “_____, I ended things because I found out you worked with kids and I knew what would happen. Someone like me shouldn’t be involved with someone in that field because of the possible repercussions. I just wanted to protect you. And then the mom found out and threatened to tell you, and I thought you didn’t know at the time so I– I panicked. I was scared you’d think I was disgusting or that you were disgusting for doing anything with me and I–” he sighed, shaking his head helplessly. “I just wanted to protect you the whole time. I wanted you to keep your job because I knew how much you loved it.”

“Yeah, well, we ended up here anyway,” you stated, lamely throwing your arms out to the side and letting them fall back down to your thighs.

Hyunjin let out a chuckle. You looked at him, surprised that he was capable of laughing right now, but he was actually laughing quietly as he nodded.

“Yeah, I guess it was kind of all for nothing,” he shrugged.

Then it fell silent. Neither of you made any move, just standing a few feet away from each other. Everything was out on the table now.

It made you feel better knowing Hyunjin never used you, but you were still mad at him. You couldn’t place why, you just were. It was like when you had a dream and got mad at someone in your dream, but then you woke up and still felt mad at them. It was a residual mad.

But you also felt sad. You were sad that Hyunjin worried about telling you about his past in fear that you’d feel gross being with him. You didn’t like that that was something he even had to worry about. You wished you’d made him feel more comfortable so maybe he would’ve told you.

Then all of this would’ve been avoided.

“_____,” he took another step toward you, completely in your apartment now. Cautiously, he raised his hand to see if you would swat it away or move away from him, but when you didn’t, he put a bent finger under your chin and made you look at him. “I fucked up. None of this would’ve happened if I was just honest from the beginning, or at least came clean when it started to catch up and just let you decide what to do. And I’m so sorry for everything.”

“I wouldn’t have hated you…” you mumbled, casting your eyes down again.

“I panicked. I should’ve done the smart thing but I chose the coward’s way out instead, and it only made you hate yourself, and probably hate me even more than the former would’ve. Honestly, I wanted to ask you out the day I brought you lunch, but then I saw the kid and found out you were a nanny and I just spiraled.”

You knew the part you fixated on – the part that made your eyes go wide and meet his brown ones again – wasn’t the main point to what Hyunjin said. But that was the part you held onto anyway.

“You were gonna ask me out?” you asked.

He chuckled seeing the way you looked at him, moving his hand to cup your cheek and rub the skin with the pad of his thumb, “Well, duh. I mean, I– …Okay, if we’re gonna do this whole honesty thing, I’m just gonna– Okay. I was gonna ask you out because I realized I loved you. I mean, I do love you. I love you. That’s what I’m trying to say. I love you currently. Still. Hence the apartment thing.”

“But you thought I was using you.”

“I know, and I was mad at you,” he nodded, “but it didn’t make me stop loving you right away. That would’ve definitely taken some time. A lot more than the time we’ve been apart. Think of it like a couple who lives together, and they get into a big fight but they both still pay rent because they love each other. They’re mad but love trumps mad, right?”

You went quiet, trying to consider everything. There was a lot of information to take in and a lot was happening all at once – on top of Hyunjin dropping the “L” word a lot. You went from believing Hyunjin used you and was actually a disgusting man that you unfortunately still had feelings for, to realizing he was just trying to protect you and was afraid of letting you know who he really was in case you didn’t accept him for it, and you should still have feelings for him because he was just a sweetheart who couldn’t communicate due to fear.

But you still felt the residual anger.

“I don’t know what to do…” you told him just above a whisper, eyes casting downward again even though Hyunjin still held your face.

“What do you mean?” he murmured, tilting his head to one side and trying to move his head to get you to look at him. He moved his other hand to cup your other cheek to help with trying to get your gaze to meet his.

“I’m still mad at you…” you admitted in a mumble, finally meeting his eyes.

To your surprise, he smiled softly and shrugged, “That’s okay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused by his reply, “Then what do we do?”

“You can still be my girlfriend and be mad at me. I was mad at you but still in love, so,” he shrugged again.

Finally, a small smile broke onto your face, and it only made Hyunjin’s smile widen. He hadn’t seen your smile in so long. He missed it.

“That sounds good,” you decided.

Hyunjin’s face went closer to yours, but you pulled back, away from his hands that cupped your face, and his lips looking to meet yours.

He looked absolutely appalled and moved back to study you.

“I said I’m still mad. No kisses until I’m not mad.”

“Good thing I’m good with loopholes,” he smirked before he cupped your face once again and attacked your face with kisses and dramatic ‘mwah!’ sounds.

Another thing Hyunjin missed, maybe more than your smile, was the sound of your loud laughter – especially when thrown in the middle, you’d giggle, “Hyunjin!”

He definitely missed hearing you say his name.

“Hang on,” he suddenly pulled back.

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked back at him, “What?”

“I told you I love you,” he stated. “Where do you…stand? So I know where we’re both at. We need to get good at this communication thing.”

“...Honestly, it sounds really dumb and cheesy but, I’ve, uh–”

“You’ve never been in love before?” he guessed with a small smirk.

You shrugged, “Yeah. So I could’ve been feeling love or infatuation. I’m not too sure what love feels like, y’know?”

He smiled at you softly, “That’s okay. I’ll wait for you to figure it out.”

————✧♡✧————-

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