midnightbabylon

[midnightbabylon]

Just found ‘playing with fire’ and I loved it! Can’t wait for part 3 🥰❤️‍🔥

Thanks I really appreciate that. I am sometimes so nervous and anxious that I can’t write anymore and why do I do that..so thank u for your kind words! I am still working on so many parts at the same time but I am really motivated atm so I am willing to finish that series! 🥰lots of love xoxo

[midnightbabylon]

Are we on the same side?

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI!!!)

Word count: 8K

Pairing: Separated husband!Joel Miller x wife!reader

Summary: Joel and you are trialling temporary separation due to repeated arguments with one another after nearly twenty years of marriage.

He returns to the marital home to do you a favour, flirting ensues and the sexual tension gets out of hand because of course it does.

You may need some clarification on what you are…

AO3

You put up the hearts, and I'll put up both my aces Not very far apart Still on different pages

Before having kids, you used to take every moment of your life for granted. 

You were just a kid yourself back then, when you had two babies with a boy who shared your class and you were so in love you couldn’t fathom a life without him. For years you were Mama, the person who fed them and changed them, bathed them and rocked them to sleep. You worked night shifts while the love of your life worked in the day, all so food could be put on the table and an apartment could be kept to keep you all warm and safe. It wasn’t until a few years ago when your kids gained their own independence that you slowly started to regain your own life back, now you were nearly forty and working a job that gave you more freedom even if the stress levels have gotten to you more than once and your marriage… well that’s a separate issue on its own. 

You’d spent the morning doing things you wanted to, thanking whoever that your kids were teenagers who could do their own breakfast and helped with chores without coaxing. You’ve been to pilates and the salon and had your infills done, your nails a glossy shade of pillar box red in an almond shape and your toes the same colour. You’d even managed to grab a Starbucks and sipped it languidly as you people watched from the safety of your car, enjoying your chosen playlist on Spotify without the bluetooth getting hijacked. The icing on the cake though? The fact you got to shower at home without someone barging in to ask for foundation or to borrow your strapless bra or your new Adidas Superstars. 

It’s mid way through Saturday afternoon that your relaxation comes skidding to a halt in the form of your jaded lover knocking heavily against the pane of glass on your front door, the irritating noise makes you scowl and you drag your feet to answer it. 

You crack it open, familiar brown eyes stare at you and yours narrow back. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask flatly, the male on the other side picks up on your terse mood and his shoulders rise defensively. If it wasn’t for the little disagreement you’d had a few days prior on the phone over something as mundane as renewing car insurance, you’d have probably been more excited to see him but the way he can sometimes undermine you really grates on your nerves, you hate that he gets so swept up in work that he comes home and talks to you like he’s your foreman. 

The minute he’d started questioning your choice like a fucking know it all, you’d merely hung up in irritation, refusing to answer when he’d called you back twice to apparently try and patch it over. You’d read the I’m sorry and I love you more than you’ll ever know text he sent after over and over, trying to figure out how things had come to this. 

Nearly two decades together, married, with children and a house. You and Joel Miller have been torn apart by too many petty arguments that end with you sobbing and him walking away, you’d had to call it and come up with a possible solution with the marriage counsellor before it was too late. 

He huffs and lifts his hand, showing you the toolbox you’ve seen many times with its contents strewn about somewhere in your house. 

“A little birdie told me that you’re in need of a repair.” Joel’s lip twists at the side when your mood seems to perk just a fraction, there’s multiple things that need a little TLC right now but he can certainly worm his way back into your good books with a good old fashioned repair. You can only assume the little birdie was Sarah or Ellie. 

You open the door fully and step backwards so all six foot something of him can meander through your front door, he wipes his feet on the welcome mat and toes his sneakers off, nudging them into the neat space where a tattered pair of Vans have been kicked off hard enough to scuff the wall and a pair of spotless ankle boots have been nicely placed beside your shoes. 

“Where’s the babies?” He frowns, looking around and noticing the lack of noise. 

You smile as you shut the door behind him as he refers to the girls as his babies, despite Sarah being eighteen and Ellie just turned fourteen. 

With them both being girls, he’s soft anyway but Sarah is his first born who made him a father and Ellie’s still his tiny baby who he’s soaked up every second of when she was a newborn because you both knew you weren’t having any more children.

“At the movies together watching Twisters, Garret backed out on Sarah so Ellie went instead.” You inform him, sneaking an appreciative glance from the corner of your eye. 

Joel makes a noise at the mention of Sarah’s boyfriend, never having liked him for whatever reason, you think it’s because they’re eerily alike so therefore clash. 

“Little prick will be back hangin’ around here next week.” He grumbles, placing his toolbox on the bottom step.  

“She’s just going through the universal thing of falling for a country boy.” You tease. 

“Well as long as he don’t get her pregnant before graduation then we won’t have a problem.”

“She’s smarter than us.” You say. 

“I know.” Joel agrees, you sneak one more glance at the country boy who got you pregnant before graduation. 

He’s wearing slim fitting black sweatpants with a worn grey t-shirt with a faded motif on, the chain of his St Christopher barely noticeable beneath it and his thick rimmed glasses are perched on his nose. 

You miss the hungry look he shoots you when you turn away, chestnut coloured eyes drifting low to the denim shorts you wear that he’s sure you’ve had since you were in your twenties. They fit snug and are contoured perfectly to the shape of your ass, your cheeks barely peeking out. What really makes his dick hard is the fact you’re wearing one of his sweatshirts, an old Dallas Cowboys one that you’ve always been particularly fond of. 

“Nice flowers. Who got ya those?” He nods with a smirk towards the vase on the side table that’s filled with blooming peonies and baby’s breath. 

The beautiful arrangement of flowers had arrived the morning after your petty argument with Joel, a gift from the universe if you will when you needed something bright and blooming to drag you out of the despair you were frantically becoming encased in. 

“Oh.” You hum and feign ignorance, reaching out to gently touch the edge of a baby pink peony. “Just a friend.” You smile vaguely, Joel rolls his eyes. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“A guy sent them?” He presses, shifting his weight, your grin turns devious. 

“Mmm.” You coo, feeling thrilled when that lick of annoyance flickers across your husband’s face at your flippant tone. 

“Who?” He grins back.

“I’m not telling you.” 

“Come on, I just wanna talk to him, I wanna know why he thinks it’s okay to send my wife flowers.” 

“Ex wife.” You snort, Joel glares at you. 

“We’re separated, not divorced. Y’know what, we’re barely even separated.” He disagrees, you bite the inside of your cheek in amusement. 

“Apparently you’re here to fix my shelves and you’re doing a whole lot of yapping, very unprofessional of you.” You goad, stepping backwards when he begins to saunter towards you with a certain look in his eyes. 

“I’ll fix your shelves, I’ll fix anythin’ you want.” Joel mumbles, stalking you. 

“Big promises.” You taunt, lifting your chin defiantly. His hands grasp your waist, pulling you to him and you let him, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck. 

You love this, the playful behaviour and flirting since you decided to live apart for a while. It feels new and exciting, a rush that you felt when you first got together as youngsters just before your world flipped and you were pregnant before your frontal lobe had developed. 

He smells delectable, you can’t stop yourself from nosing at his bearded jaw where his cologne is the strongest. Joel’s throat bobs, his fingers drift upwards under your borrowed sweatshirt to feel the bare skin between your shorts and bra. 

As his structured jaw slides across yours and his nose just barely brushes your own, you feel his breath hit your lips and you know he really wants to kiss you but is waiting for you to make the first move. 

You want to, you really do but you’re scared of falling into a false sense of security when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your underlying problems that the marriage counsellor suggested needed to be covered before you could get back on track. 

Joel enjoys the way your head fits against his collarbone, loves the sweet smell of your hair and skin. 

“Fix my shelf.” You huff into his skin as you retreat, he sighs deeply but picks up his toolbox and begins to follow you up the stairs with his eyes glued to your backside. 

It almost feels strange for Joel to be back in your shared bedroom after three weeks away, he hasn’t been back for any extra clothes or personal items. If he’s come over to see the kids, then he’s stayed downstairs or in the garden with them. 

Everything looks the same which is a strange observation given that really you’ve barely been apart for any time at all but it’s comforting to be back. 

The bed is made in its usual dress up of plain white sheets with useless throw pillows stacked neatly, there’s a pile of clean laundry resting on your vanity chair but also clothes tossed on the floor where you’ve been indecisive. 

Joel whistles when he sees the closet door open and the fallen shelf leaning against the door, there’s a scrape on the inside wall where it’s collided and taken the paint off. It looks like a fairly simple job, the wall plugs have probably come loose over time and needed replacing, it’s not as if IKEA is known for making indestructible furniture. 

“You want the step ladder?” You question as he surveys the situation, rubbing the wall with his fingertips to see if the scrape will alleviate some. 

“I think so.” He replies. “They in the garage?” 

“No, Ellie’s room, she was trying to hang some fairy lights earlier but only got halfway before she threw a fit about the command hooks.” You chuckle, wandering off to go retrieve them for him, already certain he’s made a note to finish the job for her before he leaves. 

When you get back, he’s got some tools ready, his drill in hand already. He steps onto the bottom rung of the step ladder, groaning as he stretches. 

You observe for a moment, knowing it irks him, he hates being watched on a job.

“Jesus, it’s fuckin’ dusty up here. You’re a terrible housewife, neglectin’ your duties.” Joel pokes, knowing you won’t take a blind bit of notice. 

“You wanna know why we really separated? Because you neglected your duties as a husband to satisfy your wife.” You reply easily, Joel chuckles and looks down at you. 

“Oh spare me the dramatics, you’ve never been unsatisfied by me in your whole entire life.” He sings, infuriatingly he isn’t wrong. 

“I’m telling the kids you were being sexist to me.” You threaten, chewing on a sinister smile. “Ellie will beat you up.” 

“She won’t.” Joel grins, you mumble out a complaint. “She’s a daddy’s girl, maybe try your luck with Sarah, I’m sure she’d give me a lecture.” Not that you think he needs one, he’s the biggest supporter of you and his girls. 

“They’re both Daddy’s girls, the little traitors. Nine whole months carrying them and giving birth after what felt like days and days with no fucking pain relief and this is the thanks I get? Not to mention my nipples being sucked raw.” You grumble to yourself, kicking some laundry into a pile at the side of the wall, Joel makes you jump when he groans suddenly.

“Just sayin’ but your tits were amazin’ when you were breastfeedin’ - shit, they’re still fucking phenomenal.” He sighs dreamily, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you were so hot carryin’ my babies, I’d have kept you pregnant if I had my way.” 

You bite your cheeks to hide the satisfaction that your husband still wants you. 

“You can’t say stuff like that to me anymore.” 

“Why? We separated or somethin’?” Your husband frowns comically. “Show me your tits.” 

“No.” 

“Come on, just one.” He grins boyishly. “The right one is my favourite.” You stick your middle finger up at him.

“Asshole.” You sniff, walking back to lay on the end of your bed. 

You pick up your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook posts made by the PTA at the girls school while Joel complains about wall fixings or something equally as dull. 

In the end, you get bored and toss it away, instead opting to enjoy the eye candy in the form of a senior (essentially) gentleman on a stepladder cussing about how IKEA can suck his balls. 

“Piece of fuckin’ shit!” He complains when the shelf slips again in your closet, he takes a calming breath and contains his frustration, you snicker at him. “How did this even break, sweetheart?” Joel huffs, changing out for a larger wall plug. 

“Dunno, it just did.” You answer vaguely, looking at your ceiling.

“Bullshit.” He quips. “Did you put too much shit on it?” 

“No.” You hum, shaking your head. 

“You’re a liar.” He states plainly, equally unamused. “What did you put on here that was so heavy it collapsed?” 

“Nothing, maybe it was just your shoddy workmanship to begin with.” You quip, not looking at him though you desperately want to because you can imagine the outrage on his face but you won’t be able to not laugh. 

“It wasn’t me that put it up.” He glares. 

“Sure, whatever you say.” You smile sweetly at him. It’s quiet for a minute, then Joel speaks again. 

“You put filled shoeboxes up here, didn’t you? After I told you nothin’ heavier than a few sweaters? ” He asks knowingly. 

Silence and then… 

“Yeah.” You nod, he sighs loudly and turns back to drill in a screw now that he seems happy with the stability. 

You watch him as he works, angling himself to see better and be able to use his drill at the correct angle. 

The muscles in his back move and his shoulders look unbelievably broad beneath his t-shirt, it hugs his biceps and rides up when he shifts to show a slither of his boxers and bare back. 

Your mouth almost waters and you press your thighs together but it obscures your view so you part them again to peek at him through the gap in your knees. 

It’s well known that your husband is an attractive man, he always has been. You’ve watched him grow from the gangly teenager with a backwards baseball cap practically glued to his head you were first besotted with to the almost middle aged and greying man that now works before you. 

Most nights when it’s dark, quiet and the house is still, you pleasure yourself beneath the duvet thinking of him, hips moving frantically against the whir of your vibrator. It can be any scenario of the long time you’ve been together, two decades holds enough memories to fill books upon books with pictures and anecdotes, some that you keep stored away just for you. 

Sometimes you dream about the three day honeymoon in Nashville you had when your parents forced you to get married before Sarah was born, back when you first lived in Arlington in a shitty apartment you could barely afford with you both working instead of attending college. Then there was that night just under four years later with sex so explosive that you’d had the fleeting thought you’d immediately gotten pregnant again, only to actually find out you’d been right two weeks later when you’d presented Joel with yet another positive pregnancy test before twenty five. 

You chew your lip, lashes fluttering and you’re sure he notices you ogling him in the mirror that puts your reflection in his eye line by the smirk you see. 

God, he pisses you off so much sometimes. He makes your cunt wet and your teeth grind all at once, you never knew that was possible. 

Rolling off the bed and onto your feet, you casually turn so that your back is to him on the ladder but you’re in the perfect position in the reflection of the mirror in front of him. He doesn’t notice at first over the sound of the drilling but when it stops and he goes to test the stability of the shelf, he freezes and the arm holding his drill drops limply to his side. 

He sees you begin to strip down in the mirror, shimmying your shorts down and then yanking off your oversized sweater. Joel freezes, gulping when you turn away to unclip your bra, the expanse of your back is smooth and if he thought your backside looked good in those shorts, the high cut panties you’re wearing hit on a whole other level. 

“What are you doin’?” He asks when your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, they flex within the material and you peer over your shoulder at him, big doe eyes the opposite of fucking innocence. 

“Just taking a shower, I’m filthy.” You titter, holding his piercing gaze through the mirror. 

“Funny, you’ve done nothin’ but sit on your pretty little ass and watch me inhale dust that’s been here for the last fifteen years.” 

“Well, you could always join me.” You shrug, finally slipping your underwear down your thighs, Joel’s mouth goes dry. “Only if you want to, of course.” You beam at him and then sashay away into the en suite, Joel’s resolve breaks very quickly (immediately actually) and he’s yanking off his glasses and tossing them onto the dresser and plucking his t-shirt over his head in an instant. 

Maybe the solution is to fuck it out and he’ll gladly go as many times as needed, you always did need to be fucked hard when your attitude started to test him. 

The shower has been switched on and you’re naked under the stream as he finishes yanking both his socks, sweatpants and boxers off. He admires you through the glass, kicking his clothes into a messy pile before climbing in there with you, the air tight and hot. 

His big hands enrobe you from behind, long dexterous fingers gripping at your waist and pawing at all the exposed skin it’s been weeks since he’s seen. 

You tilt your head back from the water, resting it against his shoulder and pushing back into him, holding onto his forearms and digging your nails into his flesh. 

“Look who couldn’t resist, you bad boy. Whatever will the therapist say?” You mock, pouting those pretty lips. 

“You’re a goddamn tease, you know that?” He growls, nipping at your jaw and earlobe, holding the weight of your breasts in his hands. 

“If you say so.” You breathe sexily, dragging him by the back of his neck to meet your lips in a hungry kiss. 

His cock is trapped between his soft stomach and your lower back, smearing a pearlescent gleam as he anchors himself to you.

You moan into his mouth when he teases your nipples into tight peaks, plucking them and roughly cupping your tits. 

“I want to lick your pretty little pussy until you cum on my face.” He admits into your mouth, barely letting you breathe past the fierce kisses. Your clit throbs at his confession and you grab hold of his hand, guiding it down your body to between your legs where he teases your lips.

Your back arches prettily into him, the free hand holding your breast now grips your throat, forcing you to tilt your head back. 

“Ah.” You whine when the roughened pads of his fingers stroke your clit. “Mmm, there.” You hum, pushing into his fingers. He entertains you, dipping his fingertips to your honey slick hole and back up again, dragging the gooey wetness to smother on your clit until it’s hardened and desperate to be sucked on like candy. 

“Bet you could cum like this.” He says gruffly, beard scratching at your shoulders and neck, wherever he greedily kisses your dewy wet skin. 

“Wanna cum on you, Joel.” You whine, reaching behind you to grasp his thickness. He ruts into your hand, smearing more stickiness that you want to lick away from his tip. 

You absorb him similarly to a plant and the sun, the bulk of his form plastered against your back so big and strong, skin sun kissed and warm. He’s safety to you, every single thing about him, everything familiar that you know. 

“Needy little slut.” He whispers, your core becomes aflame at the debauchery, you nod in confirmation. “Oh, you agree? You just need a cock to sit on and your shitty attitude will be right as rain?” 

“Only your cock.” You whine, flicking your thumb against the underside of him, tracing out a vein you’re very familiar with. 

“Yeah, baby. Only mine, I know, I know.” His sweet breath is hot against your cheek as he pants, fingers strumming your clit faster. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Show me how good you can be?” You hum and nod, knees almost buckling, this is the fastest you’ve approached orgasm since being separated. 

“Gonna cum, Joel.” You say huskily, hips bucking into his hand until it’s only been two seconds since your revelation and you’re cumming - wet and sticky - into the palm of his hand. His mouth is on yours, you’re moaning and moving erratically, Joel’s cock is dribbling a steady stream of pre cum into your hand where you’re gripping his shaft. 

“Sexy little thing.” Joel husks into your ear, biting the lob as you heave for air, slowly undulating your hips as you ride the last wave of your peak against his hand. “Good girl.” He praises, taking his hand away when you weakly push at his wrist. He lifts it in front of you, fingers webbed with your cum, runny and clear. You catch his hand, slipping his index and middle finger into your mouth, sucking them clean as he groans and ruts into the hand still around him, the cool palladium of his wedding ring bumps against your cupids bow as you suckle. 

You slip his fingers out of your mouth, letting them drag down your chin and back to your tits. “Fuck me.” You demand haughtily, eyeing him. 

“I’ll fuck you, baby.” He confirms, softer than you were expecting, he meets you for a kiss and you suck on the plumpness of his bottom lip before turning away. Joel slicks his hair back under the spray and then begins to trace out the curve of your waist and the fullness of your ass, you feel his hand bump you knuckle first where he fists himself to complete mast and then he runs the length of himself through your pussy, hissing at the wet heat that awaits him but he pauses, retracting back unsure. 

“You want me to wear a condom?” And you freeze, looking over your shoulder in distress. 

“Have you been with other people?” You frown, your heart suddenly sinking into your stomach, making your guts twist with nausea. Joel frowns down at you, blinking away the water clinging to his lashes. 

“Course not.” He answers, you relax. “…Have you?” Joel presses.

“Absolutely not.” You state firmly. “So get inside me.” You demand, turning away to place your hands on the tiles. You feel him press kisses to your shoulders as the tip of his cock brushes your ass again, you sigh and push back into him. “Please, baby.” You beg, feeling him smile into your skin. 

“I think you’re tryin’ to baby trap me.” Joel says playfully, pulling your hips against him so that your back arches just so. 

“You had a vasectomy after Ellie, idiot.” Your hips press insistently against him and you reach back to tug at his length, your fingers barely wrapping around the girth. “Now get your dick inside me, Joel.” You demand. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He leans down a fraction and slicks himself up, the entire length of him slipping against your pussy lips once more and nudging your clit. “Fuuuuck.” Joel groans when he does it again and the head of him catches on your hole, slipping inside just a fraction. 

“Oh my god.” You pant, your forehead dropping to rest against the cool tiled as he fills you completely. It’s a tight fit, after over three weeks of no sex with him your body is near to combustion.

You wonder if the lack of sex has attributed to the arguments, both working long hours at your respective jobs and not having the time for the normal intimacy you usually share. 

This is exactly what you’ve been wanting in the weeks you’ve been apart; a carnal desire to have your husband close. 

His grunt in your ear sets something off in you, the relief he feels directly felt by you. 

You whimper at the first thrust after he’s settled within your velvet lined canal, body pressed between him and the wall. 

It won’t ever be like this with anyone else, you think to yourself - the way Joel fits within you, around you and alongside you. 

“Like that.” You pant, pressing back. He grunts into your ear in such a manly way that you reach back to yank on his hair, he growls into your neck and fucks into you harder. 

He’s so strong it makes your head spin, this gorgeous man with a heart of gold that loved you when you were young, married you and gave you two babies, helped you create a comfortable life for your family. 

It’s overwhelming; that sensation of being full and enveloped within the heat of his radius. 

You’ve missed everything about him; his smell, his voice, the way he tastes. You’ve ached for the things you’ve harmlessly bickered about before, such as underwear outside of the hamper, smudges of toothpaste on the bathroom mirror after a deep clean, crumbs on the island. 

You don’t mean to let your emotions get the best of you but your eyes well and your throat tightens, your chest constricts something fierce. 

The sob that erupts out of your chest can’t be disguised by the noise of the water hitting the floor at your feet or the soft groans of Joel, not the breathless whines from yourself either. 

It’s a raw noise, jagged at the edges so much that it hurts leaving your throat. 

“Honey?” Immediately Joel has stopped moving and withdrawn, spinning you around to cup your cheeks. “Why are you cryin’?” He presses insistently, thumbs trying to swipe away your tears. Your cheeks are aflame, embarrassed to have spoilt such an intimate moment after so long. 

“I just - I just missed you.” You whimper, tucking your nose into his bicep. He cradles you to him softly beneath the spray, hushing you gently. This makes you cry more, thinking about how he’s held your babies like this; tenderly like they’re the most fragile  beings made entirely of glass. “Everything feels wrong! And… and…” You sniffle wetly. “And I can’t sleep properly without you and your dumb old man snoring!” 

“Oh, baby.” He chuckles into your hair. 

“I don’t like the whole limited contact stuff either.” You mumble. 

“Neither do I but it’s what was suggested and I think we need to try it, if we don’t like it then that’s a good sign.” He tries to pick your mood up, you pout and nod, leaning into his touch. 

“I’m scared we won’t fix this and I’ll have to watch you start dating someone else.” 

“I’m not gonna date anyone else, lady. I only want you, I’ve only ever wanted you.” He tells you. 

“That’s not true.” You hiccup. “Brandi Neil wanted you and you were going to go to Homecoming with her.” 

“Fuckin’ - that was literally over twenty somethin’ years ago and I went with you in the end!” He huffs indignantly. “Come on, let’s get dry and we can talk some more.” Joel guides you out of the shower with a gentle hand, turning off the water and handing you a towel. He leans over on more than one occasion to peck your lips, he smooths his thumbs beneath your eyes to wipe away the mascara that’s ran in the shower from the steam. 

Once you’re both relatively dry, there’s an awkward shift in the air as you’re both naked still and Joel looks very much aroused, half hard cock swaying as he moves. 

You saunter back to the bed, peering over your shoulder to see that you’ve captured his attention intently and he gulps as you climb onto the mattress, briefly resting on all fours for a split second, wet pussy drooling and exposed before turning onto your back. 

You stretch out against the sheets not dissimilar to a renaissance painting, skin dewy with a look on your face that Joel wants to savour. 

He climbs atop the mattress with you, pushing your thighs apart to settle between them. His warm mouth finds your nipples, sucking them and biting gently, you stretch and arch into him like a puppet on strings, the weight of your breasts fitting in each of his roughened palms. You feel the brush of his cock sway against your inner thigh and you buck against it, trying to encourage him closer, you huff when he ignores you in favour of worshiping your breasts. 

“Calm down.” He murmurs. “We’ll get there.” He promises in that deep baritone which makes your purr. Joel shimmies down your body, palm dragging along your sternum and settling on your stomach where your fingers find his in a desperate squeeze. 

The broadness of him fits between your thighs, one tossed over his shoulder to open you up. It’s erotic how he looks with his mouth on you, silver streaked hair visible and it’s not long before you’re clutching at it, writhing and moaning something pretty. 

He parts your labia and licks slowly, using only the tip of his tongue, flicking over your clit and coaxing it from beneath the hood, sucking it between his lips and running his tongue repeatedly over it as you gasp and pull his hair, he suckles and there’s a lewd slurp thrown in there. 

You purr like a kitten when his fingers enter you, moving steadily and brushing your G spot with such expertise that your eyes water. He knows what you like, having learnt your body and its responses for the better part of twenty years. A gush of slick aids the smooth movement of his ring and middle finger, stroking you from the inside until it proves too much to feel so far from him. 

“Up, Joel.” You whine, tugging his tresses with more force than necessary which causes him to bite your inner thigh in retaliation but he allows himself to be malleable at the hands of you, kneeling between your legs and wiping the slick of you from his moustache and beard. 

Rocking back onto his haunches, he fists his cock at the sight of you looking wrecked, that deep possessive part of him that’s smug because it’s him that makes you look like that; flushed and desperate. 

“I won’t last long, honey.” He warns as he gets into position, wrapping both legs around his waist. 

“Don’t care.” You state, reaching down to grab hold of him and guiding the blunt head of him through your lips, teasing yourself before you notch him just right. He eases himself in gentler than before in the shower, savouring that slow stretch as he feeds you himself until the wiry coarse hairs at the base are dampened by your wetness. 

He drops onto his forearms beside your head, caging you in as he begins to move, the pendant from his St Christopher bumps your chin. You make pretty noises, clawing at his back in a way that leaves diagonal lines in various shades of pink and red. Chests pressed together, heart to heart, a rhythmic beat perfectly in sync. 

“Tell me you love me.” You gasp.

Sitting up, Joel guides your leg over his shoulder, kissing your ankle bone, toying with the dainty gold anklet there that was an anniversary present some years ago. Your back arches against the sheets and you whimper sweetly at the new sensation of his hips fitting snuggly between your thighs and the weeping head of him nudging against the sponged wall of your cervix. 

“I love you.” He groans, hands grappling your hip bones, forcing you closer like he can’t get enough, he looms over you. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 

“I love you.” You pant back. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” His nose nudges yours, lips hungrily searching to slot against yours, puffy and wet. “You remember night one of our honeymoon?” You press, exhaling hot and tone wanting. 

“Fuck yeah I do, fuck - “ His hips snap harder and you keen. “Pretty as a fuckin picture, still in your weddin’ dress on the floor.” 

“Fuck.” You sigh, fisting at his biceps with slippery fingers. “Barely made it through the motel door.” 

“You looked so fuckin good, honey. Havin’ my baby and ridin’ me on the floor.” His mouth slackens and his eyes slip closed, clearly deep in thought. 

“I wanna do it again, Joel.” You gasp, fingers shakily circling your clit, hard and slippery. 

“Yeah, baby. We’ll have another honeymoon, renew our vows first and everythin’.” He grunts. 

“Baby.” You whimper in his ear. “I’m cumming, fuck me harder.” You say it breathlessly and all his carnal instincts take over, he fucks you that hard the headboard slams into the wall and takes a layer of sage green paint off. You’re loud through your climax, hips jumping and blood rushing through every vein like accelerant and fire. 

“Jesus, I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” He groans, fingers moulding into the mattress, orgasm hitting so hard it makes the edges of his vision blacken. “Fuckin’ Christ.” You kiss his throat from your place beneath him, licking his jugular like the fucking minx you are, biting a tendon. 

The white of his teeth is blinding as his lip curls into a near snarl, the pulse of warmth as he orgasms spreads within you and you pant, flushed from head to toe. 

You kiss him as he grunts to completion, teeth clashing. 

“You’re so good - so good.” You murmur into his mouth, frantically pushing his hair from his damp forehead. “You’re perfect.” You hum, enraptured. 

“That’s you.” He smiles, lip curving against yours. “My pretty little wife.” 

He strokes your hair and traces your features, eyes searching yours for something; hope maybe and you smile gently at him, pulling him down beside you once he’s withdrawn from the warmth of your body. 

You rest against him, cheek to his chest to listen to the thrum below. You count his freckles and you trace his knuckles, you kiss his exposed skin over and over, you absorb as much of him as you can, feeling fulfilled for the first time in weeks. 

Joel quietly observes you, you lean up on your elbow, dragging your manicured nails down the centre of his chest, he watches you with his arm behind his head. You pause and lean down to rest your chin on his sternum, blinking with those fluttery lashes that cast a shadow high on your cheekbones. 

“Thank you for my flowers.” You say, he smiles softly and reaches down to stroke your cheek with his thumb. 

“You’re welcome.” He whispers. “Wanted to do somethin’ nice for you, Ellie messaged me and said you’d had a tough week at work before that dumb fucking argument we had.” His long fingers comb through your hair, you rest easily on his stomach now, letting your eyes slip shut. “Wanna talk about it, baby?” 

“Not really.” You huff. “I don’t want to unload my problems on you.” Joel sighs in exasperation at your vague answer. 

“You can tell me anythin’, you know that.” 

“We’re supposed to be taking time apart to stop the fighting, me unloading everything onto you isn’t going to help that.” You tell him. 

“I think communication is exactly what we need.” He disagrees. 

“You’re starting an argument now.” You chuckle with an eye roll, resting your cheek against his warm skin. He rolls his eyes back but doesn’t reply, continuing to stroke your hair, twirling some around his finger. “Joel?” You ask quietly. 

“Hmm?” 

“What if we can’t fix this?” 

“We can.” He replies determinedly. “Nearly twenty years together and two kids later, I’m still so in love with you, whether we’re fighting or not.” 

“I love you.” You murmur. 

“I love you more.” He replies. “And I love our girls.” Joel adds. 

“Me too.” You shift and snuggle into him, resting your head beneath his chin. 

He holds you quietly, his touch a major comfort. You think back over the almost month it’s been since the marriage counsellor had suggested Joel move out of the martial house for awhile and stay with his brother, just so you could see if distance would be beneficial after the amalgamation of late working nights, the stress of parenting two teenage girls and life itself along with naturally getting older, you already dancing that line of perimenopause. 

The space had made you realise you didn’t want to be without him and you’d both seemed to realise that you didn’t want to split up, you just needed to figure out a way to make things work. 

“I think we should trial the time apart for another week and keep seeing the counsellor for a few more months.” You begin. “I’m gonna figure something out at work and reduce my hours, no more bringing it home with me.” 

“That sounds good.” Joel murmurs, twisting a piece of your hair. “I’m goin’ to cut my days down to four, I think the finances will be fine and I want to be around here more for you and the girls.” He tells you, you nod slowly and blink away the tears that have suddenly come at the softness of his voice. 

“I don’t care if we have to give up any extra luxuries, I just need you and our kids here happy.” You emphasise. 

“That’s what I want too, baby. No more arguments over stupid shit, I’m sorry for bein’ so fuckin’ horrible lately.” 

“I was horrible too, Joel.” You say. “We just need to keep working on things and if we feel an argument brewing then we should take a step back and reassess what’s caused it and find a solution just like the therapist says.” You advise. “Also we should make time for a date night every week.” 

“Sounds good to me, baby.” Joel agrees, tugging you forward. “Kiss me, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He murmurs sweetly and you go easily, moulding yourself over him to meet him for a deep kiss that speaks a thousand words and apologies. 

“Hey.” You say suddenly, eyes flitting over to the vanity where multiple photo frames sit. “You remember that trip we took to Seattle when the kids were little?” Joel follows your line of sight where they’re focused on one of the smaller frames holding two polaroids, one of Sarah and Ellie when they were eight and four, then another you’d taken of Joel on the pier with the wheel behind him you’d taken. 

“Yeah.” He says fondly. “That was a great trip, the kids loved it.” 

“What was that girl called that Ellie made friends with at the aquarium?” You smile as you think of a rambunctious Ellie, stomping around holding her Daddy’s hand in her tiny overalls, pointing at every fish she saw swimming ahead in the glass tunnels. 

“Oh er… fuck. What was it? Little blonde girl with a braid.” He recites, thinking back almost a decade. “Abby!” He suddenly exclaims and you hum, nodding. 

“That was it, they were so cute together watching the sea lion show, remember how jealous Sarah was that she thought all Ellie’s love was being stolen away.” You giggle, nuzzling his shoulder. “We should go again now they’re grown up.” 

There’s a comfortable silence as you bask in the evening sun coming through the window behind the bed, coating you in warmth while you lazily make out with your husband like you used to as teenagers in his beat up truck. 

You moan into his mouth when a hand sneakily skims your back and moulds to the fleshiest part of your backside. Sitting back to take a breath, you begin to kiss at his stubbled jaw, focusing intently on the grey patches and working yourself down his throat, to his clavicle and down his chest where he has yours, Sarah’s and Ellie’s name tattooed over his heart. 

He props himself up in interest on his elbows when you make it to his sternum, nipping near his navel and dragging your nails through the smattering of hair below it until you reach his groin. 

“You think you can go again?” You smirk at him, nipping his hip, sucking a small bruise into the skin above his pubic area.

“Keep doin’ that and I’ll be rarin’ to go.” He huffs, cradling the back of your head when you lick above his pubic area.

You move lower and his cock begins to swell against his thigh, his thighs tense when your hot breath drifts over his length. 

Just as you’re about to drag your tongue over the flushed head of him, you hear a car skim across the gravel driveway and you both freeze. 

“Shit, that’s the kids.” You panic, sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed to gather up something to wear. “Quick!” You urge Joel who looks equally as panicked as he yanks up his boxers. You find a long floral dress to throw on from the corner and manage to yank up the panties you were wearing earlier, the crotch becomes sodden with the semen but you ignore the uncomfortable wet feeling and try to fan away the flush on your cheeks as you watch your husband get dressed. 

You’re both barrelling down the stairs just as the front door opens and you bump into Joel as you skid on foyer tiles, he steadies you as your kids stare back. 

You and Joel try to act casual despite the feral things you’ve just done.

“You’re back early.” You squeak, very aware of your damp hair and smudged makeup. 

It’s a mere second before your daughter’s come barrelling full force towards the apple of their eyes, pregnancy and labour be damned. 

“Dad!” The girls squeal in unison, rushing to hug him. He wraps an arm around each of them, eyes slipping shut with contentment. 

“Hi, my girls.” He sighs happily, nosing Ellie’s hairline and then Sarah’s. 

“Missed you.” You hear Ellie tell him. 

“Hi, mom.” You mock unseriously, crossing your arms. 

“Hey, mom.” Ellie mocks devilishly, tilting her head back with the same teasing look her father possesses more often than not. She’s her father’s daughter, a carbon copy of him whereas Sarah is more like you. 

“You have a good afternoon?” You ask when Sarah meanders her way into your orbit, wrapping her arms around your waist. She nods against you and you tuck some hair out of her face, she nuzzles into you. 

“The movie was packed so we got frozen yoghurt and walked around Target instead, we got you some candy.” She says sweetly, rubbing her cheek into your collar whilst Ellie is resting her chin against Joel’s chest with her arms wound around his waist, whispering something that makes him chuckle and sway her from side to side tenderly. 

She stares up at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon just for you, you’re certain she’d crawl into his rib cage and stay there if she could and you don’t blame her.

“Thank you, sweet girls.” You beam. “Hey, are you both in for dinner tonight?” You suddenly wonder. 

“Yes, sir.” Ellie replies. 

“I’ve got no plans.” Sarah shrugs. 

“How about we Doordash something? Could eat it on the patio?” You suggest and Ellie cheers, Joel chuckles into her hair. 

“Even Dad?” Sarah hesitates as she asks, looking at you hopefully. Your heart breaks, Joel staying away had some serious effects in the first week even though they knew you weren’t going through a divorce and trying to fix things. Ellie acted out at school and Sarah shut herself away, both missing their father’s presence at home even though they saw him most days after school and on weekends if they weren’t out with friends. 

You’d never stopped them seeing him and wouldn’t dare to even if things were irreparable between you. 

“Of course.” You answer Sarah, Ellie looks between you and Joel curiously, her eyes narrow when she sees him smiling softly at you and clocks you blushing. 

“Whatcha both been doing?” Ellie asks slyly. 

“Hanging out, your Dad fixed the shelf for me.” You tell her nonchalantly over Sarah’s head. “So uh.. which one of you ratted on me for breaking it?” 

“Dunno what you’re talking about, man.” Ellie sniffs, you tug the end of her ponytail.

“Mmm.” You murmur, unconvinced. “Go get changed into something comfy and have a think about what you fancy for dinner.” You order, nodding towards the stairs. 

“Race ya!” Ellie bellows suddenly, pushing Sarah into you to get a head start. 

“Hey!” Her older sister shouts, barrelling after her while you sigh and head towards the kitchen, the peace and quiet officially gone. 

Joel gives you a flirtatious look and your heart jumps, your chest warms as do your cheeks. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” You demand, pushing his face away in the opposite direction. He chuckles and grabs your wrist, using it as leverage to pull you to him.  

“What? Like I want to eat you?” He murmurs lowly, you hum affirmatively. “Maybe I do.” 

“That could be arranged.” You whisper, he takes you back into his arms, walking with you until you hit the edge of the kitchen island. You pull him into a kiss, dragging your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. 

He growls lowly and hoists you up onto the surface, stepping between your legs, running his hands up and down your parted thighs. 

“The kids are listenin’ to us.” Joel whispers into your ear when he pulls away, nodding outside of the kitchen entryway where you realise you didn’t hear them run all the way to the top of the stairs. 

“No, we’re not!” Sarah has the audacity to yell with offence, you giggle into Joel’s t-shirt.

“Get changed before I make your Dad cook his famous spaghetti surprise dinner tonight instead of getting take out!” You holler back. 

“That was one time.” Joel complains under his breath. 

“Make us a sister.” Ellie shouts from halfway upstairs. 

“No chance! Dad got snipped after you anyway, he said you were more than enough trouble and you were barely out the womb!” You shout back, cackling when you hear both her and Sarah gag fiercely. 

“It’s true!” Joel adds. “I had frozen peas on my crotch for days!”

“Gross!” They both exclaim. 

That night, you sit on the patio furniture, with your husband and children, your feet cradled in his lap with glasses of wine and takeout with quiet music playing from Alexa, giggling and telling them stories of your teenage years and some of a time they’re too young to remember, planning a trip to Seattle they’re ecstatic over. 

You’re certain that everything will be okay. 

[midnightbabylon]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

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

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

Then you remember.

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

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

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

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

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

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

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

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

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

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean about the therapy?”

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh? What did she say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you certainly delivered.

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

“I can’t do this-”

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

“-tonight.”

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

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

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

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

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

Can we talk?

Yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

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

Joel looks at you perplexed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

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

You let him, because you are a weak person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you insist?”

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

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

“I didn’t want you to.”

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

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

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

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

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him.

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

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Ridiculous..”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

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

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

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

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

previous |

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

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

@sofiparallel

[midnightbabylon]

This version might be more accurate 🤣

[midnightbabylon]

Series Moodboard + Tropes

Play With Fire ❤️‍🔥

• Friends To Lovers 🖤

• Slow Burn 🔥

• Found Family 💌

• He Falls First 💭

• She Falls Harder

• Hurt/Comfort ❤️‍🩹

• Angst

• y/n

[midnightbabylon]

New Years Eve

summary: Some time ago, you met Anthony Mackie on the set of a movie project. You two understood each other from the first second. Although you tend to avoid social contacts, he constantly invites you to his annual parties. At least five times a year, you’ll be in his house. Parties aren’t for you, but he always makes you laugh even though you don’t want to be there. And every time at those parties, you meet an incredibly handsome man. Will he and you finally get closer on New Year’s Eve?

pairing: Sebastian Stan x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none I guess

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You met Anthony on Set when you became a bit bigger in the scene. As a not over social person you often stayed in your trailer reading a book. You could say that Anthony adopted you when he found out that you were practically hiding to not talk with people. He took you out to eat lunch or you were just roaming around the city. He was making you feel all kinds of comfort. You had great chemistry and soon became friends. For New Years he wanted to throw a massive house party with all his friends, colleagues and family . You volunteered to help him with decorations etc. because you really liked organizing parties. At the time time you were damn nervous because you knew that Sebastian will come tonight. You were crushing hard on this men. On the other hand you met Sebastian a few times only. Every time you had great conversations for hours ongoing, you two laughed and smiled a lot but did this mean he liked you the way you liked him? Tonight you wanted to shoot your shot. A kiss after the New Years countdown sounded perfect to you. Mackie knew about your crush that is why he bought your outfit. “He’s gonna see u in this and man.” He chuckled and made an obscene pose. “I am so good at this.” As you looked in the bag you couldn’t believe your eyes. This little black dress was a tiny piece of clothing. “I am not gonna wear that. I’d rather die.” You shoved the bag right back into his arms. “What? No! You are gonna look sexy as hell. He will be head over heels for you.” “I doubt that. It’s barely covering my ass and tits.” You gestured up and down your body. “That’s the point darling. You have great tits and a bombastic ass. Show him.” You shook your head.

Because of his compliment, you still had to smile. "Okay I'll wear it, but only if I get to do my make up and hair by myself." He grinned widely and gave you a high five. "You got it." An hour later, the house was conspicuously decorated with all sorts of odds and ends and food was on the tables. The drinks were all set up in the kitchen, so everyone could help themselves. Now you could finally get ready, too. "What if he doesn't come at all today?" You called into the room while Anthony was putting on a shirt. "Oh he'll come, he promised me." You rolled your eyes. "Okay, and what if he comes with an escort or hooks up with a pretty girl at the party?" Anthony put his hands on your bare shoulders. "You worry too much. None of that is happening. In that outfit, he only has eyes for you. Just look at you. That dress is perfect for your body type. I've outdone myself." He laughed out loud. "Just get off your high horse," you smirked.

After a few more hours, the house gradually filled up. It was still exactly four hours until midnight and you already had a headache from the stuffy air and the loud music. You weren't really in the party mood for the new year yet, inside you were rather cleaning up after the guests who were making a mess. To clear your head, you went outside to the terrace. There, the lights danced across the pool and fewer people danced and wrestled around. Anthony you had lost in the crowd a while ago. Exhaling loudly, you leaned against the wall of the house and closed your eyes. Peace and quiet. "Y/N there you are!" Sounded Anthony's voice not two seconds later. "Look who I found!" he warbled. Sebastian stood beside him, a red cup in his hand. In the blue shirt, he looked simply gorgeous. Swallowing, you began to smile. "Hey, you made it." He stared at you for a few seconds and nodded. "Yeah wow ehm you look great. That dress suits you immensely." You noticed your cheeks turning red from the heat rising into them but still returned his hug. God he smelled so divine like a man, with a hint of sandalwood. "Thanks Seb."

You chatted a few minutes before someone called his name and he turned away from you to talk to the other person. Now was your chance to grab a water. A quick check to the clock told you there was only one and a half hour left till midnight. Your eyes wandered trough the crowd of people dancing when you caught the familiar color of his shirt. A really pretty redhead reached for a strand of hair and smiled widely at him. You couldn't hear what they were saying but she probably complimented him the way he smiled back at her. Your heart pounded faster than it should with the sting in your stomach. Jealousy creeped up your blood line. But you shouldn't be jealous, he's not even yours. Quickly you looked elsewhere.

At the same time Anthony watched your reaction intensely and started playing his role as wing man for the night.

"Hey man who you kissing tonight?" Sebastian looked at him in confusion "I am single why should I kiss someone?" Anthony put his arm around his shoulder. "Everybody kisses someone at midnight." Seb drew his eyebrows together. "Who are you kissing?" He laughed. "I am kissing that hot chic right over there." Sebastian laughed nervously. "Okay good for you. And who should I kiss?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Y/N." Mackie smiled at him. "Y/N?" "Trust me. Just kiss her and you'll see how she feels about you. You flirt at every one of my parties." He rolled his eyes. "Flirting doesn't mean we're going to be anything." Anthony grinned meaningfully. "Trust me. She wants to be kissed." Sebastian sighed. "You know I'm not the type to do that." "I know, I know, but it's either that or lock you in a closet for seven minutes like the teen parties used to be." Sebastian laughed softly and took a sip of the alcohol that was mixed with some soft drink. Maybe he needed this burning in his throat today to finally have the courage to take the first step. His eyes scanned your body with arousal. The way you leaned against the bar, at the other side of the room, lost in your own thoughts. Not seeing how many men are staring at you just in this second.

In a chorus, the last ten digits of the countdown sounded. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. You couldn't see Sebastian anywhere, how could you possibly make it to him by one? Yourself. Five. Four. You went around in circles but there were just too many people. Three. Two. Oh, God.

Before the one sounded, warm hands closed around your cheeks and soft lips touched yours. Surprised, you let your eyes open and looked into the face you just wanted to see all evening. "Kiss me Y/N." He murmured against your lips and you gave in. Sighing, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his. You didn't even notice the cheers and lights around you. The kiss felt so real. You felt everything. You almost lost your mind when you felt his tongue exploring your mouth. It felt like hours before you broke away from each other. "That was…" He began and you finished the sentence. "Wow." While he added "Long overdue." You both had to laugh and looked deep into each other's eyes afterwards. "Do you feel like getting out of here and maybe going somewhere else for a bite to eat or a coffee?" He scratched the back of his head and you nodded happily. "I'd love to."

Permanent Bucky/Sebastian Taglist:

@aya-fay @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @queenofkings1212 @lilya-petrichor @dexter99 @dystopian-dez382 @xoxoloverb @yougottalovefandoms @justalostgirl

[midnightbabylon]

Fine

summary: Bucky Barnes is the only person in the world who ignores you. Yet you are constantly sent on mission with him. In this one you get hurt by accident and he is disturbingly nice and caring to you and that confuses you.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: fluffy and soft Barnes

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Starting a new life is not always easy. After the Battle in New York City, you were faced with nothing. Your family was buried under your Manhattan apartment. An explosion had taken everything from you. Your ear rang violently and blood ran from it. You struggled through the wreckage of the streets, shaking, when it was all over. You fled the state and built a new life with the rest of your family's savings. Never again did you want to go through life without a fight. If such an attack ever happened again, you wanted to be ready for it.

"Good morning." you said as you entered the kitchen and adjoining dining room. Everyone murmured a quiet reply except Bucky. Sighing softly, you placed your cup under the coffee maker and pressed the button. Then you made yourself a sandwich and took the last seat at the other end of the table. Your ears listened to some conversations, but you did not participate in any of them. Silently you watched the morning hustle and bustle. If someone told you 6 years ago that you would be at Avengers headquarters, you wouldn't have believed them.

"Oh nice everyone is here, then I can start the meeting." Tony ate a handful of blueberries and stopped across from you. "Romanov and Clint you guys hit the jackpot. Fury will join." he handed Natasha the first file then they left. "Steve, Wilson and Wanda. Quinjet and the longest mission. Good luck." Steve took the next file. An uncomfortable feeling spread through you and inwardly you hoped he wouldn't mention you're and Bucky's names. But luck was not on your side today. "Bucky and Y/N. Warehouse in New Jersey." Frustrated, you exhaled and picked up the file. Shortly thereafter, the ghastly squeak of a chair broke the silence and Bucky stormed out of the room. You really weren't hungry anymore, so you pushed the sandwich over to Peter and stood up. "It gets better eventually." Uncertainly, you looked at Tony. "What?" you asked. "The nightmares. Friday evaluated last week's night logs for me. You can always talk to someone here Y/N." Nodding silently, you walked out of the common room to your room. As you did so, you flipped through the file.

You couldn't explain why he hated you so much. After all, you had some things in common. When you weren't on missions, you could be found in front of a good book or lost in thought in a quiet place. You especially avoided parties of any kind, simply because your social battery drained very quickly. Sam regularly tried to lure you and Bucky out of the room. It usually worked for the cold soldier, but not for you. You liked your privacy and have always been more of a loner. After freshening up and slipping into your new black suit, you came into the garage. You ran your fingers over the new fabric. Tony had completely redesigned your suit and improved it. "Took you long enough," Bucky muttered grumpily. Annoyed, you clench your jaw and stare at him for a few seconds. "Why are you always like this with me?" you blurted out. "I haven't done anything to you!" Shaking your head, you got into the car without saying another word. You slammed the door on purpose to make your point. You stared at the monitor and typed in the destination. "Are you coming already?!" you shouted out, as Bucky was still standing in the open driver's door. He mumbled something unintelligible and got behind the wheel. The drive to Jersey didn't take long, yet your mind wandered. Not that Bucky would talk to you.

"What is that?" your mother asked as she stood at the kitchen window. Darkness fell over Manhattan for a moment and you joined her. A huge crash echoed through the streets of Midtown. "Get away from the window and find your father." she said in a trembling voice. Something was wrong but you couldn't see. You almost tripped over your own feet looking for your father. As you took the stairs to the top floor, the building began to shake. "Dad!" you yell up the stairs. Staggering, you arrived at the top. Where your father's office would have been, there was a gigantic hole between the ruins and you could see the sky. It looked like an alien invasion. Your body froze into stone as you watched the giant animal-like ships glide through the air. Your father was most likely dead and you could do nothing better than watch in panic at a potential war. You always thought aliens weren't real, but like the rest of humanity, you were probably wrong. "Y/N" your mother's voice sounded from downstairs. She was standing at the foot of the stairs, eyeing you. "Come down, right now!" You had no control over your body but somehow you reached her at the bottom. "Here." she thrust a backpack into your hand and stuffed various things into it before fleeing to the flap under the carpet. She took out all the wads of bills and stuffed them into the backpack as well. "We need to get out of here, fast." She pulled on your dazed body to get to the stairwell. The building shook again and chunks of stone fell on the concrete stairs. "Dad's dead." you finally found your voice again, and it sounded raspy. "I know my darling." she said softly and you felt her hands on your cheek. "But we have to get out of here or we'll die too." Tears smeared in her eyes and you followed her downstairs. The neighbors who were still alive were also heading down to the streets, although this probably wasn't the best idea. There were burning and broken cars on the road. Parts of houses lay scattered on the asphalt. This was the greatest nightmare in the history of the world. You had never experienced anything like it before. Most people were running in one direction, but your mother was looking in the other. "We have to go that way!" You looked at her as if she was also from another planet. "Mom, are you crazy? Isn't that where everything happens?!" You pointed at the explosions and the alien ships. "And that's exactly why no one would suspect us there. We need to find a working car and get out of there. Get the hell out of New York." You nodded and followed your mother through the wreckage. She rattled some car doors, but none of them opened. "Shit," she muttered and looked across the street. "Let's try this." she pointed to the silver SUV. She looked left and right before she ran off. The only mistake your mother made was not looking up. Before she could reach the vehicle, it exploded. The wave hit and you were thrown backwards. There was a ringing in your ears and everything was spinning. Like in slow motion, you raised your head and saw your mother's lifeless body. "Mom." It was still ringing in your ear and you felt something wet flowing down your cheek. "Mom." Breathing flatly, she looked at you and raised her hand trembling.

"Y/N." Blinking, you stared at your fingers. "Y/N" That didn't come from your thoughts. Fingers appeared in front of your eye and snapped. You shook yourself back to reality and Bucky looked at you. "We're here. I parked a few blocks down the street." He pulled the key out of the ignition. "Sorry." you muttered softly and got out in front of him. In your head you went through the file again. "Now I'd like Sam's drone to take a look at this warehouse first," you muttered as you stood in front of the complex. "We'll do it the old-fashioned way," Bucky said without emotion, and proceeded to climb the surrounding rooftops. "I don't have super serum in me to just crawl up walls. It's more of a super soldier or spiderman thing." He looked down at you, his Vibranium arm shining in the sun. "Then take the back door bore." You imagined seeing his mouth wrap twitch before he climbed through a window into the building. Terrified, you stared at the window. He just walked in without you. You crept along the wall to find an open door or window. When you finally found something you could already hear gasping and grunting. Bucky seemed to knock out the opponents without a problem. That's why you set out to find the capsule that Tony wanted. Actually, you didn't like stealing things, but this capsule had already been stolen from Avengers headquarters, so technically it was just a matter of getting it back. Like a cat, you tried to sneak quietly through the storage shelves. Behind a shelf filled with barrels, you looked around the corner. Jackpot. There was this stupid capsule alone in the room. Anticipated, you went to get her out of the warehouse as quickly as possible. Before you got to the capsule, two strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. For a moment, you thought Bucky was playing a prank on you, but those arms were about to suffocate you. It took you a second to remember your self-defense. You rammed the guy's elbow in the side and he let you go. You immediately turned around and punched him in the face. He moaned and held his nose. "What fear of losing to a girl?" you joke. "Never" said the dark-haired guy before he pulled out a knife. "That's not fair." You could hardly finish the sentence before he came out. The first few times, you were able to dodge until he caught your rib and you hissed to the floor. "Fuck." you muttered and raised your arm at the last second to fire an electric shock at him. He turned to the ground. You were panting and crawling with the capsule behind the shelf. Thus, potential new attackers would not find you immediately. When you took your hand from the wound, your hand was dyed red. Breathing deeply, you pulled yourself up and clung to the shelf. A move to your right made you twitch and almost hit before you realized it was Bucky.

"Hey. You okay?" Nodding you turned your head to him. "I´m fine." He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Really? That looks painful." „I said I‘m fine.“ The words came out of your mouth harder and louder than you intended. Typical defense strategy. However, Bucky could probably see the tears in your eyes as you pressed your palms to the fabric. "Hey, I'm sorry okay? I really just want to know if everything is okay." "Just a scratch, all right." you swallowed the rest of the emotions down. "Let me see how deep it is." he came a few steps towards you. "We'd better get back."you just answered. "Y/N, please." he looked you right in the eyes the first time and you were amazed at the light blue. He pulled the stretchy fabric apart to see the wound. "It's really not deep, but it should be stitched anyway." his cold metal fingers stroke over your skin, making you twitch. "Come." he took your arm over his shoulder and reached for the pod. "Back to headquarters. We don't want you to die." he grinned and you looked at him in disbelief. "You don't have to be nice to me now just because I'm hurt." He stopped in front of the car and furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not just being nice to you…. no." he said seriously after a moment's hesitation. "Why do you usually hate me?" Tears shimmered in your eyes. "I don't hate you, not at all Y/N." he gently lifted you into the car, trying to hurt you as little as possible. "Funny you always treat me like shit though." you tried to laugh but it hurt like hell. "Who do you think leaves books at your door at night after your nightmares." He got in and drove gracefully into traffic heading for New York City. "I always thought Sam did that." you admitted quietly. "No." he muttered. "I do. I have nightmares, too. I know what it's like and I wanted to help you." He looked at the road intently. "Thanks." you whispered, "I like you Y/N I just never knew how to tell you." Your eyes got heavy. "Funny way to express it." Your voice softened and your hand slipped from the wound. "Y/N stay awake. Please stay awake." Bucky voice got louder.

"I think she is waking up," somebody murmured. "Hey they're we've been worried sick." Natasha hovered over you and Sam who was holding your hand smiled big. "Man you scared the shit out of vibranium arm boy." Now you smiled. "Sorry." "Well leave you two alone for a minute." Natasha stood up and took Sam with her. "How you feeling?" Bucky sat down on the chair next to your bed. "I feel pretty good, thanks for the rescue." He sighed. "If I was a bit faster he wouldn't even hurt you." "It is okay Bucky. I am fine. Don't worry. Let´s talk about what you said in the car earlier." you smiled. He chuckled. "Okay darling let's have that talk. But if you tell Sam I have to kill you." He took your hand in his. "First of all I am going to tell you how you flirt in this century now. No cold hearted stares anymore and treating a girl like she's air." He nodded licking his lips. "Got it. Can in kiss you anyways?" "Cheeky bastard,"you laughed out loudly with a slight pinch of pain before his warm and soft lips came crashing onto yours.

Permanent Bucky/Sebastian Taglist:

@aya-fay @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @queenofkings1212 @lilya-petrichor @dexter99 @dystopian-dez382 @xoxoloverb @yougottalovefandoms @justalostgirl

[midnightbabylon]

Play With Fire Masterlist

Moodboard + Tropes

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

[midnightbabylon]

Play With Fire

Part Two

summary: With some help from the bad guys, you have a good chance of a fresh start. But does Kian let you down so easily, or was this all just a sick game with big aftermath?

pairing: Jax Teller x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: violent actions, death threats

A/N: the following parts are inspired by season 2 x 13 911

Also if you wanna be part of a Taglist just leave a comment and I'll do one :)

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The last few days have been like a trance for you. It was like you were reliving every single trauma that Kian had inflicted on you over and over again. You could hardly sleep, but at least the diner had good food. After all, you called your mom to tell her that you and Kian didn't have a bond anymore. As a mother, she did not need to know more details. It's bad enough that so many strangers had noticed. The scratch and the cracked lip were almost completely healed so you dared to go outside again in daylight.

At first you just wanted to stretch your legs a bit until you were back on the paved square of the car repair shop. “I wouldn’t have expected you back here so soon,” Gemma’s voice suddenly sounded from the left. She smiled and squeezed out the cigarette with her high heel. “I could use some help.” you went to her and she pulled you into a warm embrace. Immediately you had to smile too.

“What can I help you with, darling?” she took you into a little cabuff and gave you a warm cup of coffee. “I was hoping someone could lend me their car so I could move out of my apartment. I wanted to escape from this relationship several times and he caught me both times. Now I can make the restart I always wanted. Unfortunately, I don’t own a car.” you sighed at your coffee. “And you want to make a fresh start here in Charming?” Your eyes met and you thoughtfully tilted your head. “I can’t answer that properly. But I want to leave this apartment and everything I don’t need behind me and start over. My mom is traveling the world and my dad has been dead for a long time. I don’t have anyone to miss me there.” A pause of silence arose. “I’m sorry, honey.” Smiling, you pulled your eyebrows together. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” You reached out to her. “We are beyond these formalities,” she said, smiling at your hand. ‘Hi Y/N.’ Less than two minutes later, Jax strapped into your coffee break. “Well, look who’s here!“ he leaned casually against the door frame and smiled at you. Gemma saw your face lighten up. “Y/N could use some help. Can you drive her to her old apartment and help her clear out everything she needs? You can take the truck that fits more.” Surprised, you glanced at Gemma and Jax answered without hesitation. “Yes, of course. If I’m lucky, the bastard will cross me again.” his smile was murderous but it looked fucking sexy. Where did that thought come from?

Quickly you discarded the thought and thanked him in advance. The trip to your hometown wasn't long, but it was pleasant. Jax told you a little bit about charming and what it was like to live there and you told him about what it was like to live in yours. By now you had arrived in the right neighborhood and stood at a red light. “What are you going to do now that it’s all over?” Jax was sitting comfortably in the passenger seat looking at you from the side. “I don’t know where and how to start again, but I want to. It was long overdue.” You gave him a light smile and drove on. “Stay here, I’ll check if your apartment is really empty.” he took your keys after you told him the number. Nervously you rubbed your palms on your jeans before he came out of the house leisurely jogging after a felt eternity. “All Kian clear, let’s go.” You take the boxes out of the trunk and get to work. The apartment was furnished a few years ago when you started to rent it but Jax was really helpful with the heavy furniture pieces you bought yourself and wanted to keep while you were cleaning out the whole apartment. The pictures and things Kian had given you ended up in a big garbage bag. You didn't want anything to remind you of him. After less than 2 hours everything was done. You had already paid for the apartment every month so moving out was still the easiest on that day. When Jax was already carrying boxes down, you met your older neighbor, Mrs Jenkins. “Oh child you’re moving out? I knew this day would come.” she grabbed her heart and sighed wistfully. You liked the old lady, you'd often sit together with a hot tea and talk about God and the world. “Yes, I got a good job offer and I have to move on.” Lying to her felt wrong but so right. After a warm hug, she wished you all the best and you met Jax again on the stairs. “If I get the last 4 boxes, we’ll be through.” Smiling, you kind of felt a feeling close to freedom. “All right, I’ll take the garbage bag away from behind the house and join you again.” A strand had come loose from your ponytail when you finally arrived in the backyard. The garbage bag was really heavy and you blew the strands out of your face after you opened the bin. You armed yourself to throw in the bag, but you didn't get there. Two strong arms wrapped around your face and neck. “If you scream, I’ll end your life here and now and throw you into that barrel just as unlovingly as you want to throw away our stuff.” The goose bumps formed within seconds and you close your eyes defeated. Kian.

Filled with fear, you watched as your ex put tape over your mouth and next tied your wrists with it. Screaming for Jax was now useless. While Kian pulled you to his truck, you were still able to pull off your ring. Jax had just looked at it earlier and would know it belonged to you. Fortunately, Kian didn't hear the clink of the ring on the asphalt as he pushed you roughly into the truck. Since his windows were tinted, no one would see your silhouette. "Everything I did for you, for us." he muttered to himself. "And how do you thank me? Running to the next best thing with a tail and getting ruined. Didn't our time mean anything to you?!" he asked angrily, and by now he was on the highway out of town. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Making him angry now might get you killed, since all he'd have to do is speed into the guardrail. For a moment you closed your eyes and then looked at him again. Tears formed in your eyes and his features softened, so he carefully removed the tape so you could respond. "It was my fault and and I promise you on my grandmother's life that he didn't ruin me. Not in any way. There was always only you Kian. He didn't even touch me, please Kian..believe me." His knuckles around the steering wheel turned white and his lip trembled before he looked at you with moist eyes. "We both made mistakes okay. I'm sorry, I want to do better. I'll do better and I'll prove it to you." Outraged, you stared at him. He was vulnerable right now and believed your lie. The sick feeling in your stomach didn't let up and the farther away you got from your old city the more tense you were in your seat.

Jax hesitated as he was about to light his second cigarette. He wondered what was taking you so long. He put the lighter back in his pocket and walked to the garbage cans. No sign of you. "Y/N?!" He looked around in all directions before inspecting the trash bag in front of the open garbage can. He repeated your name, louder this time, before running to the alley. As he did so, his shoe slipped over something, causing a metallic crunch. Confused, he lifted his foot and saw the silver ring. He picked it up and looked to the end of the alley, which was connected to the main street. Cursing, he pulled the cell phone out of his pocket, tangling the knife. "Argh! Shit!" He dialed Chibb's number and walked quickly back to the car, pulling the sliding door shut before getting behind the wheel. "What's up? You guys finally on your way back?" the Scotsman asked, amused. "We have a problem." he said seriously before there was silence on the other line. "You're on speaker." "Y/N's gone. I think her ex blindsided her in the backyard. I'm getting on the highway back to Charming. Get Unser on board, we need to track this asshole down."

A few hours passed before you woke up again. However, you were immediately aware that Kian had driven across the California state line. The immediate heat of the desert would have burned your skin if he hadn't turned up the air conditioning so high. You had no idea where exactly you were, there would only be two options and that would be Nevada or Arizona. There were no signs right now, but you would keep your eyes open. "Oh you're awake. Finally..just in time for the surprise." Kian smiled at you and you gulped. "Where are we? And can you turn the air conditioning down a bit..I'm freezing." your voice was raspy and weak. Now that he'd been alone with his thoughts for a few hours, he could be the angry psychopath again. "We're in a very special place. After all, our vacation in the cabin was taken from us and now I got us a much better one." He drove off the road onto a sandy path toward huge cliffs. The vegetation increased and you saw the blue glitter of a river. He stopped behind a thick tree and drove the car into the bushes. "Get out." he unbuckled you and opened the door. Carefully you kicked the door open and climbed into the thorn-covered bush. He slammed the car doors and threw the key into the bushes. "Come." he grabbed your arm roughly and pulled you along the steep path. Down by the river, vacation bungalows lined up among cactus landscapes. "See, beautiful isn't it?" You nodded absently and stumbled after him. He dragged you to one of the most hidden bungalows and looked around before breaking a window to get in.

Frightened, you watched as he made sure no one was in the house before pulling you in. He pushed you harshly onto an armchair and taped your wrists again. Almost panicked , he closed all the curtains and searched in all the drawers for something. Tears formed in his eyes while you admired the beautiful furnishings. He found what he was looking for when he smiled and held up a rope and tied your ankles to the feet of the chair. "Be a good girl and don't make a sound will you? Or I'll tape your pretty mouth shut." he smiled at you and put a hand to your cheek before pressing his lips to yours. Disgusted, you swallowed and turned your head away as he released. "I'll cook us something nice to eat when I find something edible and then we can talk all night honey." Silently you closed your eyes before you eyed your jeans, which were partially ripped open by the thorns. How could the day have gone so wrong? He could have just been stalking you or camped outside your apartment to get to you.

"Any news yet?" Jax stepped out into the shadows and lit a cigarette before looking at Charming's chief. "APBs on the reported car are out here in California, Nevada and Arizona. In addition, I've instructed that any new reports of stolen vehicles be monitored as well. He can't get far with her." he exhaled loudly and Gemma paced back and forth nervously. "Didn't she have anything else on her that could help us at all?" Jax shook his head and played with the silver ring in his free hand. The only thing he had from you just now, besides the cart full of your stuff. Gemma exhaled loudly and took a drag on the rest of Jax's cigarette before running to the truck and eyeing the crates. "I'm going to go through this stuff and see if I can find anything that will help us." Jax nodded, stifling a comment that Y/N had probably already thrown everything away, or at least planned to before she got caught.

Kian put a glass of water and some food on the table when he finally finished. All this time he had been silent, until now. He unclasped your hands. "This is the reward for being so well behaved. They'll stay free even if you don't fight back anymore. Got it?" he smiled and you could only nod mutely. You could only get the food down since you hadn't eaten in hours. "Can I go to the bathroom?" you asked softly as he turned on the TV. "Are you behaving?" You swallowed the lump and answered with, "Yes." He also freed your feet from the chair and told you where the bathroom was. Slowly you walked down the hall and looked around. There had to be a phone around here somewhere. Hope rose in you as you spotted one on the dresser next to the bedroom door. You quietly went into the bathroom and a short time later flushed the toilet. You let the water from the sink run and left the door ajar as you crept to the phone. Carefully, almost silently, you lift the receiver. "Are you going to be done soon? The movie's about to start!" shouted Kian from the front. "Be right there." You tried to sound like it was coming from the bathroom and when you finally got the phone to your ear, however, no dial tone sounded. Confused and heart pounding, you pressed 911 on the dial pad. Nothing. Uncertainly, you pulled the phone forward and saw that the cord had been cut. "You little-!" Kian was suddenly standing in the hallway. You couldn't even put the phone down, already colliding with the glass case. "I ask you just once to behave and you betray me?! I expected more from you Y/N!" His grip painfully clutched your face and your forehead throbbed. Roughly, he pulled you back to the chair. He turned down the TV and knelt in front of you. "Y/N, listen." he exhaled loudly. "We can be happy together again. We'll start all over again. In a new place, maybe even with new names. We will face each other as new people. You will forgive me, and love me again. I know that." he clutched your hands and looked at you. Now it was your turn to exhale loudly. He made you stand up and walk across the room. "Yes, I've always found a way to forgive you." Carefully, you reached for the sculpture on the shelf, about the size of your hand, before turning to him. "Then let's give it a try. What are we waiting for?" he said hopefully, coming toward you. When he was close enough to you, you hit him over the head with the heavy sculpture. He fell to the ground and you ran out the door into nature.

[midnightbabylon]

Play With Fire

Part One

summary: Your boyfriend surprised you with a romantic weekend in Northern California. Only he didn't expect his car to break down in Charming. As if that wasn't bad enough, he sent you down the road in the dark to the Teller-Morrow automotive repair shop. Just there you ran into a forbidden handsome man who could be the answer to all your problems or your downfall.

pairing: jax teller x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: violence, swear words, domestic violence, more language

A/N: First Jax Teller series because lately I started watching SOA and I am obsessed! with this man. When I tell you this man is so fine!! Damn.Enjoy : ) Also I really wanted this to be a bit slowburn so there will be more parts don’t worry ;)

But if you can‘t read stuff like this please skip!!

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The first chords of Life is a Highway sounded from the radio and you couldn't hide your smile. You loved that song. Your forehead was leaning against the cold windshield of the truck. Silently you began to shape the text with your lips before Kian suddenly barked, “Could you stop that?!”. When he suggested this trip yesterday morning, you thought he might get back on track, but right after that reaction, you knew he'd never get better. A romantic weekend in Northern California, how thoughtful. Why do you think he used that excuse? How could you survive such a long drive if you couldn't even sound your favorite songs with humming? You kept looking out the window and rolling your eyes so he wouldn't see it. “How long are we still on the road?” you asked cautiously. Kian sighed and looked at the small screen, which was the only light source in the car. “We still drive through this strange town called Charming and then turn to the hut.” Less than five minutes later, you passed the giant tree disc with the name of the city. It was only dimly lit, yet you had to smile. “Funny, did you see? Our name says it all.” Smiling, you looked at your boyfriend who was just staring out. You dropped your head against your seat and looked at the houses and the countryside. You could just read the sign of an automotive repair before the car went further towards the outskirts of town. Just when you wanted to be sad about leaving the sweet city there was a loud bang and Kian slowed down before he parked on the side of the road. “Shit!” Confused, you looked over to him. “What was that? Was that the tire?” Angry, he looked at you and you backed away. Then he got out and slammed the door before he ran to the back of the car. Nervously you chewed on your black-painted fingernails. A short time later, Kian was back in the driver's seat breathing loudly. “The tire is fucking junk and I don’t have any spare in the trunk.” You squeezed your fingers nervously. “There was a car repair shop earlier.” you point your finger backwards. “Maybe they’re still open.” Kian hit the steering wheel hard and you had to jerk automatically. “Okay. Go and ask if they change the tire for us no matter what price.” You looked out the window in disbelief. It's pitch black out there. “It’s dark.” “And?” Kian asked, and you watched how his jaw muscles tightened.

The last time you disobeyed his orders, you had to put makeup on your blue eye for the next four days. “Okay okay I’ll go.” When you got out, you pulled your jacket tighter in the cool air and walked back a few miles at the side of the road. You kept blowing warm air into your hands. The nights were very cool although California is actually so warm. After a felt eternity you finally saw the yellow-red sign: Teller - Morrow Automotive Repair. One of the three gates was only half open, so you ran quickly towards it. Before you could look in, a man came out who just put a glowing cigarette in his mouth. You two stumble back a few steps. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” you said quickly and couldn’t help but look. The blonde hair was covered under a cap. He was wearing black jeans with white Airforce. Your gaze flew up and you saw the black hoodie and the eye-catching coat. He seemed to be in some kind of club or gang. “Everything’s alright, but we are closed.” he put the cigarette back between his lips expressionlessly. Your heart sank to the ground. “Really? It’s an emergency.” nervously you looked back to the street. “What happened?” he asked calmly. “The truck ... so our truck. The tire has burst and we have to change it.” He blew a cloud of smoke into the night and surveyed you. “We can change the tyre tomorrow morning. No important appointments have come in yet.” Shaking your head, you looked back to the road. “You don’t understand. The tire has to be changed today. He’ll pay you whatever you want.” He casually pushed himself off the wall and came towards you. “Honey, you’re very nervous. What’s going on?” Before he could touch you, you took a step back. Kian would immediately notice that handsome guy's perfume and punish you for it.

“Please! Can’t you make an exception? I’ll get in trouble if this isn’t done today. ” Actually, you didn't want to be so honest, so you took a breath when you noticed how quickly that confession came over your lips. The blonde man across from you pulled his eyebrows together. “Okay, I’ll take a look at that. Prospect,” he shouted inside. A skinny guy with a similar coat came out. “Come with us. We might still have something to do today.” Relieved, you audibly breathed out air. "Thank you." The two men then followed you to Kian's location. When he noticed you with the escort, he also got out and looked at the two men suspiciously. “There are supposed to be problems here?” Kian crossed his arms and pointed to the tire. “It has to be changed,” he said stiffly and pulled forward. He put an arm around your hip and you tried to keep a straight face. “We can take the car with us and change the tire by tomorrow morning when we have all the parts.” he turned his cap on his head and looked at the tire. “Isn’t that possible tonight? We still have something to do.” Kian grinned disgustingly and the sloppy guy looked embarrassingly touched into the darkness. “Now listen Man,” said the handsome blonde guy, whose name you still didn’t know. “The store is closed, I can only offer you to do it first thing tomorrow. I know a place where you could stay for the night.” You gave Kian a look and he talked for a few minutes before the Prospect pulled up with a tow truck. Kian watched every move of the mysterious mechanics and then his truck was loaded. “Do you want to go with me?” the little weakling asked you and before you could answer Kian did it for you. “We’ll walk to your shop alright.” You pressed your lips together and the long-haired one held on to the side of the tow truck and drove off. When you arrived at the right place , a middle-aged woman stood beside the two gentlemen.

“Hi, I’m Gemma. I’ll show you the place to sleep for the night. If you need more things, you can still get the stuff out of your car. Kian looked at you briefly before he got in with the young man, exhaling loudly. “Honey, if this guy gives you any trouble, call me,” muttered the woman, whose breasts were pushed higher than an 18th century maid. Impressive, even you had to look. You took the file card in your hand and made it disappear into your bra before Kian could see it. Gemma smiled at you and took you and Kian to her car. Behind you came down the big gate with a rumps and then you already sat in the dark Cadillac. The trip was short and you were dropped off at a nice little house. “You can stay here for the night. Nobody will bother you, my guest bed is freshly made.” Uncertain you looked at the beautiful decor. “Oh, we can’t accept that. Isn’t there a motel in town?” Gemma turned to you smiling. “Yeah, honey, but that’s shabby and you don’t want bedbugs.” Kian put an arm very tightly around your shoulder and pressed you against him, a sign that you'd rather keep your mouth shut. “That is very courteous and kind. We will return the favor. Thank you for your hospitality.” You said thank you quietly, and Gemma left and left you alone in the little guest room. “Can’t you even let it go? God every time you drive us further into shit. Be glad we don’t have to go to a filthy motel in this goddamn place.” Kian knocked the bag over in anger and his wild look hit yours. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “Yeah you should be sorry!” he yelled and hugged your face tightly that it hurt. You squint your eyes and he let you go. “I’m going to take a shower, see if you can find something edible.” You felt uncomfortable at the thought of ransacking Gemma's kitchen, but you still went to look. The fridge was empty, but you saw a small order card from a restaurant called Lumpy's Restaurant. You quickly pulled your smartphone out of your pocket and asked if they still had an open kitchen and if they would deliver.

At the same time Gemma arrived again at the Sons clubhouse and lit herself a cigarette. “I don’t like this guy from the little girl.” Her son Jax raised his head and swallowed his last sip of beer. “The couple from just now? Where did you take them?” Gemma sat down with a whiskey in her hand. “Yeah them… I took them to your house. I won’t let that girl go to the motel with that creep. Something’s wrong with them and I bet it’s because of that little cock sucker. She’s scared in his presence. ” She shoved the whiskey down her throat. “Mom they’re leaving tomorrow morning, why does the well-being of that girl matter to you?” Gemma pulled her cigarette and nodded. “You’re right. ”

“Kian, please,” you whimpered and hot tears ran down your cheeks as you squatted in the corner of the room. “Little bitch, you can’t do anything right.” the beer bottle smashed over you against the wall and glass fell down on you. You're lucky he didn't hit you this time. God, you couldn't show yourself in front of these helpful people tomorrow when Kian destroyed everything in his drunken rage. How many times have you wanted to escape from this relationship and couldn't. You've been with this man for five years now, and the first three years went great. He was kind, courteous, and he would never hurt you. Ever since someone flirted with you at a New Year's Eve party and Kian started the biggest fight in town, he hasn't been the same. He could never let you go anywhere alone without thinking someone else would snatch you away from him. He smelled you to find out men's perfume, even tracked your car and your cell phone and controlled everything else you did. Twice you wanted to break up, move out of town and start a new life without him. And every time, he'd sneak up on these plans and beat you so hard, you couldn't even go to the hospital. He nursed you at home and apologized to you crying and vowed never to do something like that to you again. And now you're crawling back to the ground, wishing it was all just a dream. The restaurant had delivered a false pizza, and then he was just looking for more reasons to destroy this room and you. “That blonde asshole from the workshop just wanted to fuck you! And I bet you wanted to fuck him as well, you little bitch.” He tore your hair and forced you to look at him. “Please! I didn’t want to fuck him. You’re the only man I love and look at. Your are the only man that fucks me.“ Your head flew violently to the side and your cheek burned from its blow. ‘Bullshit.’ Even through his closed teeth, you could see his spit fly. “I’m sorry, please! You have to believe me.” You had your hands folded in a prayer position. “Get up,” he murmured threateningly, and when you didn’t react immediately, it pulled your arm roughly upwards. “We’ll get out of here in the morning and you’ll never waste a thought on this town and this man again.” After he let you go, you rubbed your arm and went to the bathroom. Your eye rings were clearly visible, just like the red spot from the slap. You'd have cover this up tomorrow if it didn't go away on its own. After an extended shower, you put on long clothes and went to bed with Kian. He was watching TV with a new bottle of beer in his hand. “Is there another one?” he asked sharply, holding the beer in front of you. “I’m going to check.” Tomorrow you'll have to replace the six-pack. After Kian had finished his last beer, he fell asleep drooling on the bed. You couldn't sleep, so you cleaned up the room and scrubbed the wall so you couldn't see the beer stain. After you had scrubbed the bathroom and the carpet it was only a few hours until the supermarket opened. Frustrated you drove through your hair and also disposed of the garbage and packed the bag so far back together. Punctually at 7 you bought the exact beer and also got provisions for the ride and some breakfast. Kian was still asleep, so you put on your makeup and had a cup of coffee. At 8 o'clock Gemma was there and honked. Less than two minutes later, she was in the hallway saying hello. Her blonde streaks in her dark hair were kind of a calming sight, because Kian wouldn't dare do anything now. “Thank you for driving us back to the automotive repair shop. I’ve put a little something in the kitchen to thank you, and I’ve already done the laundry.” Gemma smiled. “Oh, honey, you didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” “Okay,” Kian threw in and raised both of his hands and you took a step back, just out of reflex. Gemma gave Kian a murderous look and then walked you to her car. During the ride, she checked your face through the rearview mirror. You felt her look and you were afraid she might see through the make-up.

Kian strolled straight into the garage without saying thank you and watched as his truck was being worked on. Gemma moved into a small adjoining house and gave you a cup of coffee in a shabby mug. “He hurts you, doesn’t he?” Your hand would have started to tremble without the cup. “You don’t have to lie, honey, I’ll see that.” she seemed almost shaken as she lit a cigarette. “How long has it been?” You started shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter. Please, he can’t know that we are talking about such things.” She made a derogatory noise. “He’s busy. And I’ll make sure it stays that way.” Uncertain you were chewing on your lip. “Do you have a toilet?” she nodded and showed you the door. Gemma took the chance and all you could hear was her heels rattling over the asphalt. She leaned against Kian's truck while Jax was changing the tire. Jax gave her a puzzled look. “What kind of romantic hut are you going to? Have you been there before? Can you recommend it or not? Sounds really good.” Kian inspected her strictly. “This is our first time, but it looks promising.” Gemma smiled and Kian's gaze wandered down to her blouse. That motherfucking dick, thought Gemma. “Oh yeah? No more huts around. It’s good that no one hears her screams when you hit her, isn’t it?” she blew the smoke of the cigarette towards him and Kian tightened his shoulders before he bent dangerously toward her. Jax was standing within an blink of an eye. “Stay back, that’s my mother.” Kian now looked at him threateningly. “And she should hold back about what she says,” he growled, and your voice broke through that staring. “What’s going on here?” “Nothing is going on here. It was just a misunderstanding, was it?” Kian cleared himself and stepped back a bit. “Yes, I think so too. You don’t want to mess with us.” At that very moment, a handful of bikers drove onto the site and parked in a row. They also wore the leather cloak with the reaper on it. “Can I talk to you for a second?” your partner asked and his wild eyes made you swallow nervously. “What did you tell that bitch?!”, he asked indignantly as he had dragged you a few feet behind him. “Kian they are watching us,” you said softly and he noticed the many pairs of eyes that were all directed at you. “I’m still waiting for an answer,” he muttered. “I didn’t tell her anything, nothing at all. She gave me a coffee and then showed me the toilet.” Kian braided his teeth like a rabid dog. “I believe you now. But I’m telling you.” he raised his hand and pointed at you. “If I find out you lied to me, then you wish you never met me.” He ran past you back to the car and you muttered quietly in front of you: “That’s what I’ve already wished for.” All of a sudden, Kiran was like a changed man, and he stormed at you from behind. Immediately Gemma was on alert and many heads that had already turned away looked back in your direction. “What was that you little whore?” Kian clapped and pushed you hard to the ground. Your cheek scratched the floor and your lip burned before you felt something liquid run over it. Stunned, you put a finger on your lip and stared at the blood. “EY.” sounded a lot of voices and the click behind Kiran made him freeze. “I thought you didn’t want to mess with us,” muttered the handsome guy with a gun drawn and loaded. Gemma was right there and helped you up. “Is everything okay, honey?” Your lip started to tremble. He had never lost control in public and especially in front of complete strangers. “No, it’s not okay.” Tears were burning in your eyes and you looked at Kian. “You’ve gone too far. I’ve been keeping you company for years and letting you do everything you do to me. But now that fucking stops. Fucking strangers? These people were watching us. You’ve gone mad.” Laughing, he looked at you and spat on the floor in front of you. “You’re crazy. I put up with you for five years!” Your hand slipped and it clapped loudly across the yard, which brought in some “ohs.” from the men. ‘You piece of shit.’ Gemma introduced herself to you. “Beware your tongue.”

Kian grinned dangerously. “What are you going to do about it, bitch?” Gemma pulled out and it cracked loudly while your boyfriend screamed in pain. “Take advice from a mother. You should leave town and never see that girl again. Do we understand?” Kian nodded and held his nose. “Get your things out of the car.” she gently pushed you towards the truck. After you took your things and the keys to your apartment, the men pushed Kian into the truck. “Our relationship is officially over. Have a nice life.” Gemma rubbed soothingly over your arm as you watched Kian drive off the compound and never come back. “Should we take you somewhere?” asked the good-looking blonde. “I’d like to go to the motel in your small town,” you said quietly. He gave you a black helmet and then took you to the Rogue River Motel on his motorcycle . “Thank you.” smiling, you took off the helmet and gave it back to him. “No reason. Oh, I’m Jax just by the way.” Smiling, you turned to him. ‘Y/N.’ Then you went to the entrance of the motel. “Nice to meet you Y/N.” he shouted after you and winked at you. “Don’t make me regret meeting you, Jax Teller.” The last thing you saw was his fat grin before you closed the motel door behind you.

[midnightbabylon]

Till The End Of The Line

summary: Almost 2 years after you split up with your ex-boyfriend Steve, you start a little affair with his best friend Bucky. Just as Bucky wants to confess his feelings for you, Steve comes to him to tell him he never got over you and wants to fight for you. So as not to betray his friend, Bucky breaks up with you to let Steve come first. But was that the right decision?

pairing: Bucky x fem!reader x Steve (ex boyfriend)

word count: 2.8k

warnings: lies, little heartbreak

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“Y/N! Y/N!” How was it possible that through the loud music in the bar, you could still hear your friends. Laughing, you walked into the back of the grill. It was your regular bar where the four of you met every week. In the small niche sat your three best friends: James, Steve and BF/N. You guys were a great party of four. There were never any strange moods or arguments. Not when you and Steve got closer, or even had a relationship for five years. And not even when you broke up with Steve two years ago. Your friendship with each other has somehow become even stronger. “Hey, guys. It’s so good to see you. I’ve had such a shitty day.” James slipped a bit so you could squeeze on the red leather bench. “We already ordered your glass of wine.” Happily you sighed and leaned back. “I’d rather have a bottle, but thank you”. smiling you grabbed the glass with the red liquid and took a big sip of it. “What happened, your boss again?” James turned his head towards you and a short time later you felt his hand on your thigh. A few weeks ago, you and he had an affair. It felt good, right. For the first time in months, you felt really alive when you were with him. The problem was that Steve and BF/N didn’t know about it and that was supposed to stay that way for a while. You didn’t want to hide, just enjoy your togetherness as long as you could. You made rules. But now here in the bar so unashamedly touching you was not part of the plan. However, the heat shot right into your cheeks as his hand continued to stroke your thigh, moving higher and higher. Thank God it was dark in the bar and you were able to put it on the wine. So as not to be more conspicuous, you started to tell… Your evening ended as usual: you all stood outside and said goodbye before everyone got into his taxi. It was never noticeable that Steve and BF/N shared a taxi and you and James. So they didn’t know about your little secret. In the taxi, you finally let go of the tension and pulled the handsome man by his shirt towards you. Your lips bumped into each other and shortly thereafter the taxi was filled with breathless moans. You got out of the taxi with swollen lips, James tipped the driver enough before he took you upstairs as usual.

The alarm clock ripped you out of your wonderful dream. A deep, masculine groan sounded beside you. “Stay here, don’t go to work today.” He grumbled and pulled you closer to his warm chest. You giggled and kissed his forehead. “I don’t have a choice. Unlike you and Steve, I’m normal and I don’t make my money saving the world.” James pulled a pout and finally let you out of bed with a lot of argument. You made it to work just on time. You didn’t need a stand timer from your boss right at 8:00 in the morning. On your lunch break, you happened to run into Steve. “Hey you”. he greeted you with a smile and pulled you into a hug. “What are you doing here?” You sit on a bench near the park fountain and enjoy the sunshine. “Oh, I was in the neighborhood, you know. Helping virgins in need”. You both had to laugh. “Say, can I ask for your advice, it’s about a woman.” Now your ears were particularly sharp. Ever since you broke up, Steve’s private life has rarely come out. “Yeah, what’s up?” He played nervously with his fingers. “It’s been a while, but she was something special. I kind of never got over her. I know she’s still single since we last met. Do you think it helps to ask her out again?” At first an unpleasant feeling had spread in your stomach, but now you were pretty sure he couldn’t talk about you. Nodding, you encouraged him. “But of course. Everyone deserves a second chance.” He thanked you and you despise your rest of your lunch break talking about God and the world.

When James stood outside your door with Chinese food at night, it was the best time of the day. Since the beginning of your techtelmechtel, such a weekly evening had become a tradition. You guys were able to really relax together and didn’t have to worry about anything. However, the conversation with Steve had made you curious. Just as the movie was over, you moved a little away from your lover to get a good look at him. “You, have you and Steve talked about your love life lately?” The beautiful man’s forehead across the street was wrinkled. “No why?” “We met by chance today in the park and he actually came to me to ask for advice about a woman. Unfortunately, he didn’t tell me who she was. Do you have any idea?” James thought about it and finally replied, “He only had a relationship with a waitress named Leyla for a while. At least she’s the last one I know of.” Deep down in Bucky, it gave him a slight stab, why his best buddy didn’t talk to him about it, but to his ex, you.

A few days later, Bucky and Steve trained together for their next mission. The whole time, Bucky’s thoughts were buzzing about Steve and his desire for that date. Between the sets, he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Hey, I heard from Y/N that you want to get back into the dating world.” Steve hesitated and packed the dumbbells back into the corresponding stand. “Why are you talking to Y/N about this and not to me? I thought we were best friends.” Steve scratched his head while Bucky grabbed his water bottle. “First of all, how do you know what Y/N and I were talking about?” Now Bucky had aroused Steven’s suspicion. “Secondly, I’ve been dragging the question around for a while and it was just there. And thirdly, I just wanted to confirm that she’s still single.” Bucky halted and spat the water almost into Steve’s face, but was able to hold back just like that. “What’s that?” asked Bucky, trying to cover up his shock. “Yes.” Steve sat down on one of the sports equipment. “It’s been two years since Y/N broke up with me. She absolutely had the right to, our relationship was at that point. She wasn’t happy anymore. I did some things wrong but…I never got away from her Buck.” Steve sighed and drove his hands over his face and the brunette got sick. But if he said anything right now, he’d be taking advantage of your trust. “I’ve tried, I’m almost desperate…but since she’s single and has explicitly told me that everyone has a second chance. I’m going to ask her to be with me again, what am I going to lose?” Steve wouldn’t lose anything, but Bucky knew what to do. And he knew what he was going to lose.

-A week later- When the ringing of your apartment door finally got you out of your mind, you had to grin wide. Today, you and Bucky were together for almost five months, and you finally wanted to say the L word to him. It felt right. Dinner arrived ten minutes ago, and James usually arrived on time. Not today. He also answered your messages very late today. Enthusiastically, you opened the door for him and invited him in. Since you had waited a long time for proper food you went straight into the kitchen so that you could start your evening immediately. “James come on. Why are you still standing there? Sit down or I’ll have to talk you out of it.” Your voice became seductive and Bucky took a tormented look on his face. “I can’t do this between us anymore.” Confused you look at him and let the Chinese food sink in your hands. The symbolic knife blade sat on your skin, ready to destroy you. “How can you not do that anymore?” Your voice was quieter than I thought. He stroked his chest briefly and cleared his throat. “I know we agreed to keep it a secret until we were comfortable with the idea of telling everyone else…but I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want to be your little secret anymore.” The knife’s blade went deeper into your skin and started to burn. “I don’t understand”. you muttered in dismay. “You’re not embarrassing to me, and above all, you’re not a little disgusting secret to keep. You know that. It was clear from the beginning when we revealed our feelings.” You walked up to him and wanted to put your hand to his cheek, but he held you by the wrist before you could touch him. “James”… Tears began to fill your eyes. “Is this all a joke? Is Sam going to jump out from behind the sofa with a camera and clear me up?” He gently pressed your hand down and shook his head. “It’s not a joke, I’m totally serious. It doesn’t work like that anymore. I’ve made my decision.” Now you had to shake your head in disbelief. “Because a relationship is also based on an individual’s decision.” Slowly but surely, your feelings were thrown into chaos. “This isn’t a relationship Y/N. We fuck.” Like a lump of butter, Bucky rammed the knife deep into your chest. “So that’s it for you? Just fucking? For 4 months…but certainly James.” Your voice defied only so full of distance and pain. He raised his hand. “From now on, please call me just Bucky okay?!.” Now he turned the knife in all directions. You were the only one besides Steve who was allowed to call him by his real first name. It was something special. Your thing. “This can’t be true. Within a few hours you throw everything away?! Earlier you were so happy about our weekly movie night and now you’re throwing our relationship at my feet?! Because of what, Bucky?! Is there another?” By now, tears were running down your cheeks. He breathed out loud. “God no.” He looked up and looked at you. “I don’t love you.” Now he had pulled out the knife and left you to bleed to death. “Get out!” you said quietly. “What do you mean?” he asked, looking almost insecure. “Get out of my apartment! Get out of my life! I never want to see you again!” You spit the last sentence at his feet. The anger already colored your cheeks red “Don’t worry about your things. You know where the door is”. You turned away from him and held back the loud sobbing in your throat. The last thing you had was his dark steps to the door and the closing lock. The wall inside you broke into a thousand pieces and left a bleeding heart. you slid to the ground and remained on the hard ground. Hours later you could only get up. You felt nothing. No pain. No hunger. No thirst. You could just drag yourself into bed before you fell asleep.

You spent the next few days in exactly this position in your bed. You couldn't eat, you couldn't drink, and you didn't feel like taking a shower. You were still wearing the same clothes you had worn that day. By now you must have stunk like hell, but who cared? There was no one here anyway. The next day, your best friend bombarded you with text messages.

BF/N: We absolutely have to go to the grill today. It's BBQ night. Hello? SOS. BF/N: If you don't answer in the next hour, I'll come to your house. You don't answer for days!!!

She made good on the threat. In addition to annoying, constant knocking, she rang up a storm. Annoyed, you yanked open the door. BF/N took one look at you. "What the hell do you look like?" Without asking if she could come in, she entered your apartment. "Oh God did an animal die here?!" she held her fingers under her nose. Then she spotted the live Chinese food. "Y/N what happened?" You were silent for a few minutes, but then the dam broke and you told her everything. "Well, you're finally spilling the beans." Confused, you drew your eyebrows together. "Oh come on Y/N. Everyone's seen the way you look at each other. You're practically undressing each other with looks. And those sneaky touches. They weren't as sneaky as you thought. A best friend sees that kind of thing." Surprised, you shook your head. "Why didn't you say something?" She sat down next to you on the couch. "I don't know if Steve wanted to see it. Because I think he's still mourning you." Now you shook your head vehemently. "No, I just talked to him the other day and he wanted to try again with an old flame." BF/N looked at you. "Does that ring a bell? You're his last Y/N too." "That can't be." To distract you from further thoughts, your best friend dragged you into the shower. Together, you went through your closet. She put makeup on you and did your hair before you were ready for a night out. The barbecue was well stocked as usual. Bo, the bartender greeted you and as you ordered drinks he said James and Steve were also somewhere in the crowd. You girls went to your alcove and ordered a barbecue platter. After you had eaten, Steve suddenly came around the corner. "Hey girls!" Smiling, you greeted each other one by one, and Steve looked at you urgently afterwards. "Can I talk to you outside for a second?" You and BF/N exchanged a look before following Steve out the door. From a distance, James watched the whole spectacle and he looked down as he felt a telltale tug in his heart. "Steve, what are you doing?" The night was starting to get chilly, so you crossed your arms in front of your chest. "Y/N I'll be honest with you. I..there was no one else. I was going to ask in a roundabout way if you were sigle and maybe still chasing our relationship the same way I was. Now that I know that, I want to ask you for a second chance. I never stopped loving you and-." "Stop." Steve took a step back as if you'd slapped him in the face. "What makes you think I'm single?!"

"Steve we've been broken up for over two years. I've had closure with you for a long time and you should too." The metal door opened and the man you loved stepped out. Your eyes met and you had to inhale heavily. "I don't love you anymore Steve…and in fact, I've lost my heart to someone else for almost five months now." Saying the words out loud hurt but at the same time it was a very freeing feeling. James mouth dropped open and he visibly swallowed. Steve looked back and forth between you and his best friend and he understood. "I was afraid to say it out loud because I didn't want to explain my feelings to my friends. I feel free, carefree, and happier than I have in a long time." Steve nodded gently. "He deserved you. You deserve each other. Now I understand your reaction too, and maybe I just didn't want closure and misunderstood little niceties. I'm so sorry." Steve walked up to you and squeezed your hand. He then turned to Bucky, "And you. How stupid can you be and break up with her when she's the best thing that could have happened to you. Because of me? Don't ever do something like that again. That was stupid, so stupid Buck." The brunette nodded and looked down at his shoes. "We're like brothers Steve, you don't do something like I did to a brother." Steve pulled him into a long hug. "You can't choose love Buck. Love is unpredictable. The two of us, till the end of the line." His ice blue eyes searched your gaze. Glassy eyed, you stared up at him. "Do the right thing." Whispered Steve before disappearing back into the grill. "Y/N I-." "I love you." The words left your mouth faster than you could think. Jaime's facial muscles twitched. "I was a coward to think it would be better to let you go. Because Steve's right. You're the best thing that could have happened to me, and I've loved you since the first second I saw you Y/N." A tear escaped from your eye and you jumped into his arms. Your lips met heatedly and all the emotions of the past few days clashed. "I want to hear it again. "he murmured against your lips. "I love you Bucky." "What was that?" Laughing you leaned your forehead against his. "I love you James."

[midnightbabylon]

Updated Masterlist

* smut

💭 angst/hurt/comfort

💌 fluff

Masterlist

Series

Fate Series: finished!!

Cheater

Traitor

Liar

Lover (The End)

The One Where Series: ongoing

F•R•I•E•N•D•S (Prequel)

Let´s hurt tonight (Sequel) coming soon

One Shots

Roommate‘s Best Friend

New Years Eve

Masterlist

Series

Part Of Me Series: finished

Part One

Part Two

Part Three (The End)

Middle Of The Night Series: ongoing

Part One

Piece Of Your Heart Series: ongoing

Part One

Part Two

Revenge Series: coming soon

One Shots

Somebody To Love

Her (Part 2)

Daddy‘s Little Girl

Till The End Of The Line

Fine

Come Join The Murder •Masterlist•

Series

Play With Fire

One Shots

Series

One Shots

Drivers Masterlist

LN4 - Lando Norris

CL16 - Charles Leclerc

LH44- Lewis Hamilton

[midnightbabylon]

Middle Of The Night (1)

summary: The most beautiful feeling is to be treated like a princess, isn't it? Your partner takes care of you, protects you as if you were a diamond. You feel safe, secure, as if nothing could ever happen to you. But what if it's all just a game to him and one of the most dangerous mafia bosses in town suddenly has his eye on you? Will he lose or will you?

pairing: mafia! Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: not in this part but following

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Classical music, suits and long dresses, alcohol and quiet chatter. Once again you find yourself in a large filled hall. The richest people in the world surround you while you are snuggled up to your fiancé. Chadwick Black is a handsome, rich, young man from New York. He looked like a Greek god. Dark skin, gold glittering eyes, curly brown hair, accentuated cheekbones and full lips. Besides his six-pack and other defined muscles, the most attractive thing about his body were his tattoos. You've had a thing for bad boys before. No wonder why you got into those circles. And for 4 years now you have been by his side. You ran into each other in a small café and last year he proposed to you. You could hardly believe your luck. It was your very own fairytale. At first it was funny how much he showered you with gifts and flowers. Now you were used to it. You were never so grateful in your life. Every woman stared at him when he entered the room. Everyone could feel his presence. He is everything you ever wished for. Handsome, loyal, funny, a bit mysterious and aloof but caring and calm. It wasn't hard to fall in love with him, it hit you like a sudden rainstorm in the desert. He smiled and it was all over you. When you got to know him better and the years went by, it wasn't like a fairy tale anymore. It had become your reality. Little by little you got to know the class of rich people. Chad always made you feel comfortable. When you were uncomfortable, he would take you out to get pizza and then watch a movie on the couch. But as is normal, after so many years together you fall into a rut. You take your partner for granted. You may live together in a beautiful loft, but he doesn't fight for you like he did in the beginning. You are always there anyway, his words. Why then still flowers or sometimes your favorite candy? He did take you out on a regular basis, but it was more business lunches than dates. And at those he disappeared with the men at some point and you were alone at the table with the Botox faces. You had nothing in common with these beasts, since they were all much older than you and were only after the money. They also whispered about you when they thought you weren't in the bathroom. Hopefully today would be different.

"You look incredibly good in that dress." Chad whispered softly in your ear. You had to giggle. "You picked it out, didn't you?" He grinned and his grip on your waist tightened. "Don't do anything that will attract a lot of attention," he growled suddenly. "I have important people to talk to now." He kissed your forehead and released his grip on you before disappearing to one of the back tables with shady looking men. Disappointed you let your head hang low. For a while now you had doubts about how Chad made his money, however he was very secretive. It was precisely through such bipolar behavior that such thoughts came to you. But every time you brought up this subject, he immediately changed it. You may have had only a small, not so important office job, but you were not stupid. You loved the man with all your heart, but lately it felt strange. You looked at him for a long time and then let your eyes wander around the room. An icy pair of blue eyes stared into yours. Startled, you took a breath as you recognized the hard face of Bucky Barnes. His features were tense as he eyed you. Swallowing, you looked away before heading for the bar. James Buchanan Barnes was one of the most dangerous men in the world. But damn this man looked good. Everybody knew that this man was in the mafia and he was not a good man to talk to. Once someone betrayed him, that person was never seen again. He meant trouble. That meant you had to stay away from him at all costs. "Jack Daniels, please." Slowly, you took a seat on the barstool and smiled at the bartender. "Such a beautiful woman ordering such a hard drink, who hurt you sweetie?" The incredibly white teeth of the lard curl in front of you flashed. "Excuse me but this is none of your business." smiling sweetly you sip the glass. "Don't you have any etiquette?" A deep voice sounded behind you and your body tensed. However, you couldn't ignore the goosebumps. Never before could a man, except Chad evoke such a reaction in you. "You don't talk to a lady like that." A large hand set a glass down beside you. "Fill it up." An incredibly fresh but tart aroma rose to your nose. The temptation to turn to him was strong, but it would be a fatal mistake. He reached for his refilled glass of whiskey and stood right next to you. His impossibly expensive gray suit clung to his muscles. It was probably more expensive than Chad's suit. "You're Y/N Y/L/N right?" You drained the glass in the next puff. "Who's asking?" He laughed softly, rubbing his stubble. The scent of his aftershave worked like a magnet. "Honey, I think they know exactly who I am." Now you really turned to him. "If you know who I am, why are you asking?" He lowered his eyes and suddenly you felt warm. He was just looking at your face but it felt forbidden. He moistened his lips and bit them with a grin. "Let's both stop playing this game, deal?" Now you started to grin. "I don't make deals with the devil." Barnes shook his head. "Ah Chad is learning. You're different from the other girls." A queasy feeling spread inside. "The other girls?" Your voice was quiet and your wall cracked. "The ones from Chad's past. All dumb blond idiots. But you..." His ice blue eyes scrutinized you from top to bottom for the first time, though you didn't feel the need to cover yourself. "You're special. Intelligent, beautiful, and confident. But you can tell right away that you're not from this world." You blinked rapidly and looked at him expectantly. "Excuse me?!“ He swirled the burning liquid in is glass. „Since you entered this room, you have not left Chadwicks side. Judging by your body language, you’re absolutely uncomfortable among these old geezers and rich snobs. I assume that you come from a middle class household and only got into this Millie trough Chad.“ Your cheek twitched. „Do you even know who your fiancé is?“ It scared you how quickly he could see trough you. Now you felt vulnerable. „Would you dance with me?“ „Why do you think I would dance with you after such a humiliating analysis?“

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. „Since Chad left you alone every single man has only eyes for you in this skintight dress. You are the tiny little fish and these men are the sharks.“ You looked over his shoulder and noticed the lascivious looks of the men. „I did not think that someone would find me so attractive.“ You mumbled to yourself. "You are the most beautiful woman in this room and that is not a lie. I'm an honest man." He gently placed the now empty glass on the counter. "Honest? And if I asked you right now how you make your money, would you answer?" "Those are not the topics that matter my beautiful. I would never leave my partner alone to do dirty business in a back room." "May I have this dance?" Uncertainly you looked around for your fiancé. Bucky Barnes felt like a forbidden fruit. "It's just a dance, not a wedding." He laughed softly and exhaled in relief as you grabbed his hand. One hand was in a leather glove. There were only rumors why he would wear such thing. Nothing confirmed. But that was the exact thing, that made it so excited. Why was he relieved, as if a woman had ever turned him down. He gently but firmly pulled you onto the dance floor against his chest. You had to clear your throat and took some distance. "Sorry, most women want to dance this close with me no matter if they are single, engaged or married." You didn't answer him but listened to the soulful music in the background. After a few minutes you even started to enjoy it, although you felt that his scent was a dangerous drug. You liked this scent, wanted to keep breathing it in so deeply, but suddenly there was only emptiness. "What the hell Y/N?! So this is what you call not drawing attention to yourself? Have you completely lost your mind." Chad roughly pulled you away from the mobster into a dark corner. "You're hurting me." Only after more tearful pleas did he let go of your arm. Ashamed, you rubbed the affected area. "Don't provoke me. You don't want to know what else I'm capable of." Shocked, you looked at the man across from you. "Who are you?!" Wide-eyed, you took a few steps back before you felt the wall at your back. "The man I fell in love with would never have made such a scene or grabbed me like that. What's wrong with you that you're changing so much?" He laughed snidely and shook his head. "This is embarrassing. Dancing with that creep Bucky Barnes in front of everyone. How am I supposed to look?“ Your mouth dropped open. Now you were embarrassing him, too. "Excuse me." you muttered softly, slipping past him to the restrooms. Quickly you shut the ugly red door behind you and hid on the toilet seat. Pressing your hand firmly over your mouth, you began to suppress sobs. Stunned, you rummaged in your pocket and took out the one cigarette that was only for emergencies to calm your nerves. Right after the first puff, the taste was absolutely disgusting, but you needed that right now. Lady-like, you then went to the sink and put on your red lipstick. Then you pulled the clip out of your hair to let your long hair fall over your shoulders. You were a strong, confident woman, so a little scene like that wouldn't bring you down now. Just before you push the door open again, you tightened your shoulders. When you entered the ballroom again, you had the feeling that there were even more people in the room than before. You kept an eye out for the dark-haired back of your fiancé's head. You didn't want to let a little argument like that come between you. Just when you found him, you stopped abruptly. Next to him was a blond girl with curls. Giggling and groping each other, they disappeared into a broom closet. You had to be in the wrong movie. In a moment, someone would jump out of an ambush and shout,„PRANK!Fooled you! But nothing happened.

For a long time a sudden nausea came over you. It just had to be a joke. After a little argument, he went straight for some bimbo instead of talking to you. Oh no, that's not how it would go. Disgusted, you screwed up your face and swallowed the lump in your throat. The hairs on the back of your neck tickled as if someone was watching you.You refused to look for the blue eyes. You were sure that he was watching you right now. But those weren't the eyes that mattered. What the hell was his sudden change in behavior about? Where was the man you fell in love with? In a few seconds you were just a piece of trash? You left the room with your eyebrows drawn together. Instead of taking the elevator, you put your hand on the cold handle of the staircase. Who would follow you anyway? Worried, you looked at the ugly gray walls and dirty steps. Hesitantly you pulled the expensive high heels off your feet and ran down the first three floors. Just as you turned the corner again, you heard the door of the fourteenth floor. You looked up the center aisle and stared into his eyes. Tears began to burn in your eyes. Grandiose, now the most dangerous man was following you and not your fiancé. When strong arms grabbed you, you were already sobbing. Instead of feeling the cold wall, you were surrounded by his scent and the soft fabric of his suit. Now was the moment when your walls fell down. "I hate him, I hate him. How could he do such a thing to me!!! In front of all these people that's not-" Barnes hand stroked your hair soothingly. "Shh." His body tensed before he spoke the following words, "Your ex-fiancé just made the biggest mistake of his life.....Trust me, he's going to pay for it."

Part 2 following!

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[midnightbabylon]

Lover

summary: A year later, Sebs and your life completely changed. Today is the long-awaited court visit to make your divorces final. And maybe you have some advice for the future of the new couple.

pairing: Sebastian Stan x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none just fluff

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"Are you ready?" Sebastian stuck his head through the bedroom door and looked to you. "Oh damn." he breathed loudly. "What, does it look stupid? Do I look fat?" Suddenly you doubted your appearance in the mirror. "No! You look fantastic darling." He stood behind you and put his hand on your growing belly. Since you were with Sebastian, you were much more relaxed and frisky than in the years before. You deserved a beautiful life with a wonderful partner. You often talked about the future. A child together and a wedding would seal your happiness forever. But whether it was that easy. After the whole story with Patrick, you were afraid. After many self-doubts and dark evenings in Sebastian's arms, you went to see another specialist. He happily informed you that you were both fertile. For weeks, your values were checked and miraculously, you quickly became pregnant. The day you held the positive test in your hand was now almost 5 months ago. You thought a few years ago that this day would never come. All the greater was the joy of showing Sebastian the test crying as soon as he walked through the door. How quickly the time passed. This weekend there would be a gender reveal party. Friends and family were coming to celebrate with you and Liam. It felt like a dream. Sebastian fiddled with the black fabric and brought you back to reality. The black trouser suit hugged your figure flatteringly. You hadn't worn make-up for weeks. But you dressed up for the occasion. If you were going to get out of this divorce, then at least with the last bit of dignity that Patrick had left. Then you can also show him what he is missing. What he gave up for an affair that he then impregnated. You are better. You can be happy and free. You have earned it. It took a really long time to admit that to yourself. The love of your life was now by your side and you will spend the next struggles in life side by side. "Let's go." You bit your lip anxiously and went into the third door on the right in the hallway. "Liam honey, we have to go now. Take a snuggie with you if you want." You went further into the hall to get the jackets. Sebastian stroked his son's curls encouragingly. Today was a hard day for the four-year-old. Victoria made it really hard for Sebastian to get a divorce. For months she went on holiday with Patrick, so she was not available. When she was finally ready, the big custody battle started. Sebastian wanted sole custody but Victoria foiled all his plans. The saddest thing was that she disowned Liam as her son. She no longer visited him or had him over. Today, a court would make a decision based on the evidence and the testimony of some relatives and acquaintances. You were one of those who spoke out. You felt unbelievably sorry how a mother could treat her own child like that. Liam was such a special little boy. He had so much love in his heart. You tried your best to be there for him, he was a daddy's child either way. But you couldn't and wouldn't replace his mother.

The journey to the court did not take long. The bright sun made it particularly hot again. In the car park, you reached for a water bottle and looked at the car parked next to you. "Seb your mother is here." Thirsty, you drank half of the bottle and hugged Georgeta warmly. "You look great!" she hugged her son and grandson in turn. "Thank you. I feel all bloated but when this is finally all behind us it will be a massive weight off my mind." She smiled warmly and put on a pair of black sunglasses. "Let's go in then." Sebastian took Liam in his arms and led the way. They were already standing in the hallway outside the courtroom. Patrick whispered softly to Victoria as she pushed the buggy back and forth. She raised her eyes and stared at us grimly. Sebastian's lawyer appeared behind you and distracted you. When the time came, we went into the courtroom. Respectfully you looked around before you had to take your seat. The judge entered the courtroom and began the proceedings. When it was your turn to testify, you were sweating like a waterfall. Your hormones were going crazy because of your pregnancy. Sebastian and Victoria sat at two separate tables in the middle of the room. He gave you an encouraging look as you sat at the podium. An hour later, all the fuss was over. Liam wept bitterly as you left the room. Sebastian pressed a kiss to your temple and walked hand in hand with you towards his ex-wife. "Hey. Even though I have sole custody, I still want you to know that you can visit him whenever you want. He's your firstborn Victoria." You squeezed his hand lightly. "First of all, congratulations," you said softly and looked briefly at the sleeping newborn. "Thank you. That really means a lot to me." Victoria said, her expression even showing remorse and some sadness. "I or rather we..." she said as Patrick came up behind her protectively. "Made a lot of mistakes and never apologised for them. I am ashamed of what we have done to you. There are better ways to not want to be with someone anymore. It's nice that you found each other and can be happy..like we are."

"Thank you for your words. We wish you the best and hope you don't make the same mistakes again. Be grateful for what you have. Family is so important." Sebastian turned away and you looked once more at Patrick. "Patrick wait." Victoria excused herself to calm the crying baby. "Please do me a favour and grow up. Take good care of them both. Treat her better. I hope you have learned something from this." You smiled sadly at him. "Farewell." He nodded appreciatively. "Thank you for all these years, even if I was not a good husband and not a good partner for you. I can never make it up to you, but I wish you all the luck in the world." Tears came to your eyes. It was a great goodbye. You watched the three of them leave and went to your own family. You watched blissfully as Sebastian threw Liam through the air. His giggle filled the entire hallway. Your most desired dream could now come true. Gratefully you closed your eyes and took Sebastian's hand.

Two Years Later.

There was a gentle knock. "They're all waiting for you." You had to breathe in and out deeply. The emotions were going extremely crazy today. "I'm ready," you said to your mother and she opened the door so your father could look at you. Tears glazed his eyes and he held his hand in front of his face. "My God, you are beautiful." Your hands were shaking. " Dad please. I cannot cry." He handed you your bouquet and your mother left quickly. "Come now. You don't want to miss your own wedding." You laughed and nodded. "I'm ready." The white fabric blew lightly in the wind. All your loved ones were gathered. And there he stood. In a tailored grey suit. He looked so impossibly handsome. He had grown a three-day beard just for you. How you loved that damn beard. When your eyes met, the world stopped for a second. He sniffled and squinted his eyes. Your father handed you over to your almost groom with a smile. "If you start crying now, I'm going to have a waterfall on my face," you murmured softly to Seb, who grinned cheekily and wiped his finger under his eyes. "I'm completely innocent." The registrar looked at you and waited for your sign. "Let's start the beginning of our eternity," you said firmly. The ceremony was wonderful. You had to cry at your respective vows. What a miracle. He whispered such wonderful words to you and made you a promise that will never come close to any other promise in the world. After a few hours, your feet were now aching. At the bridal table you took off your high heels and drank a sip of water. How can your own wedding be so exhausting. Of course you've had one before, just like Sebastian. However, you've been keeping a little secret for weeks. "There's my beautiful wife," a voice sounded behind you. You got a wet kiss on the cheek and had to giggle. "Hello, very handsome husband." He sat down next to you. "How are you Mrs Stan?" He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh. "My feet hurt." Without another word he grabbed your ankles and placed them on his thighs. He massaged the sore spots and you closed your eyes in pleasure. "I was just with Liam and Georgie. My mother fed them and your mother is playing with them in the children's corner." Your gaze went in that direction and you grinned widely. "My dad has a pink crown on his head. I never thought I'd see that again in my life." Seb brushed a strand of hair out of your face "Life as a princess can be exhausting my dear." “As big siblings, too.” You were hoping he’d understand the news. He pulled his eyebrows together in amazement. “We don’t have any siblings and Liam is just-“ he hesitated and looked at you with big eyes. “No.“ he breathed softly. You couldn’t hide your smile anymore. At the same time, you were nervous. “I’m going to be a dad?" "I'm in the 13th week. I wanted to tell you on your honeymoon, but I think now was the perfect time." He looked at you with so much love and immediately knelt down to kiss your belly. "Liam will be an even better big brother and Georgie will be a super great big sister." He kissed your belly over and over again. "I love you so much." he murmured softly and looked up at you. "I love you so much more." He jumpep up like he was insane and threw his hands in the air. As he started to cheer loudly you shook you head. Your are gonna spend the rest of your life with this weirdo. Have fun.

THE END

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[midnightbabylon]

Liar

summary: Sebastian and you have teamed up to expose the affairs of your (ex) partners. Now you find the ultimate proof. In order to convict them, Sebastian has to unpack acting skills you didn’t know about.

pairing: Sebastian Stan x fem!reader

word count: 1.5 k

warnings: none really just anger and fluff

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"I'll kill whoever rang the bell now." you muttered under your breath. You apologised to Sebastian and he cleared his throat. The stairs creaked as you went down and annoyed, you opened the door. You stared at a gigantic bouquet of flowers. "Ehm." The flowers lowered and Patrick looked at you. "Hey Y/N." You had to suppress your laughter. "What are you doing here?" You pulled the door closer. "And how did you get this address?" "It doesn't matter now." You furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief. "You and I don't agree on that at all." He looked at you hopefully. "May I come in?" You had to laugh. "Why? You think just because you show up here with flowers I'm going to take you back? You cheated on me Patrick. Several times. You made me a promise on the beach five years ago. You promised to love and cherish me till death do us part. The way I see it, we're both still alive and I sincerely hope you brought the divorce papers signed." You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "Y/N please." You exhaled loudly. "Okay. You have five minutes." Why you allowed him to enter your house now was unclear to you. But suddenly you had an idea.

I'll call you in two seconds. Don't say anything, let the call be recorded.

"Would you like a coffee? Tea? Can I get you anything?" You walked into the kitchen with Patrick. You dialled Sebastian's number in your pocket. Then you put your phone on the kitchen island along with the key. "A water would be great." You left the flowers on purpose. As soon as he was out the door they would end up in the bin. Patrick was so blinded by his love affair that he ignored which flowers were in the bouquet. The orange dahlias made your throat scratch. You were allergic to that very flower. Ignorant of you to think he'd changed. "Why the sudden change of heart?" "Y/N I love you. We have known each other for 8 years and have been married for five of them. We have experienced so much and been through so much. We have built a future for ourselves. It was the biggest mistake of my life to throw that away." You shook your head. "You should have thought about that sooner. You broke me. You never told me why." Your voice trembled. "What do you want to know?" Surprised, you opened your eyes. "How did you meet her? Why did you have doubts? Why all this? Why for so long? And why did it break?" He sat down."We met at work. She arranged an office building for my company. We understood each other. After all, we were neighbours. It was fun not talking to a whining and desperate woman for once." You can't believe your ears. "Excuse me?" He raised his hands. "I'm sorry, it was the wrong choice of words. I was relieved not to have to think about how broken you were. Every night I had to hold you when another test came back negative. You were obsessed with having children. We weren't happy anymore. Everything I tried failed." "That's not true." Patrick laughed. "I was trying to save our marriage. You wanted to start a family as much as I did. Made me feel how unworthy I was. Accused me of not being good enough to carry your child. The truth was you just couldn't get it up with me because you already fucked that whore." Your voice grew louder and louder. Suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your cheek. Patrick had slapped you across the face. "Call her that again and you'll regret it." You swallowed hard. "What, because you love her? Or just because you got her pregnant?!" "At least she got pregnant the first time." You open your eyes in horror. "That's enough! Who do you think you are?" Sebastian came down the stairs. A dirty rag in his hand. "So all the lamps on the first floor are in place. Now you don't have to be afraid of the dark." He laughed softly and then faltered playfully. "Oh I didn't know you were expecting visitors. If I had, I would have come later to fix the lights." Patrick tilted his head. "Hey Stan." Sebastian nodded at him. "Hello neighbour." Patrick understood the dig. "I think it's better if I go now." You could only nod. "I'll send you the papers to your lawyer." As the door slammed, you took another breath. "Are you all right?" asked Seb anxiously. He wrapped you in his arms. "I'm fine. Get the confession out of your wife and let her rot in hell." You looked at the bouquet. "Throw it away on the way out, please. I need some time to myself." With those words, you left him in the kitchen.

Back in Sebastian's own house, his muscles were shaking. He was still so disgusted by what he had heard on the phone earlier. He had the bouquet of flowers firmly in his hand. The plant greenery cut his fingers. Dahlias were Victoria's favourite flowers, not Y/N's. She was allergic to those kinds of flowers. Before Victoria had moved back in completely, Sebastian had an alarm with a security system installed. A camera monitored the veranda. He put the flowers in a vase and went into his study. He fetched the laptop and sat down in the living room. Liam was still in kindergarten. Now was his chance. Victoria came to him with a pot of tea. When she saw the bouquet of flowers on the table, she wavered a little. "Flowers? For me? What did I do to deserve that?" He smiled broadly. "Come sit with me, darling." He emphasised the last word harshly. "Do these flowers look familiar?" She poured herself a cup of tea. "No, why would they baby?" Sebastian leaned back in the couch. "Maybe because they were given to you by another man twenty minutes ago." Angrily he turned the laptop screen with the surveillance video in her direction. She dropped her teacup and it smashed on the floor. The carpet turned red. "Sebastian I-." "Enough!" He flipped the screen shut. "How stupid do you think I am Victoria? Dahlias are your favourite flowers. I haven't had a reason to buy you flowers in a long time." She was shaking all over. "I've played your games long enough now. I got a lawyer involved many weeks ago." He pulled out a bag from behind the pillow. He pulled out two stacks of papers. "Here you have the court order for a paternity test once and the divorce papers." Startled, she looked at him. "Divorce papers?" she repeated meekly. "I'm going to move in with Liam at my mother's. Temporarily. Your things are packed when the Circus is over here. I never want to see you again. I didn't know I could talk to snakes until you showed up. Rot in hell you false serpent!"

It had been weeks since Sebastian had moved out. You were in daily contact. Victoria made his life hell. You tried to be there for him as much as you could. After all, you both had the same fate. It's easier if you can get through it together. You had already had a date at an Italian restaurant. It was an incredibly beautiful evening. Today you had a long shift at work. Just now you were in the back of the warehouse putting the new cupcakes in the counter. "Y/N, there's a customer here asking for you." Quickly you grabbed the second tray and went into the salesroom. Sebastian and Liam grinned at you. "Oh wow. Hello." You couldn't suppress your delight. "It's good to see you, what can I do for you?" Seb winked at you. "Liam was very hungry for a blueberry muffin." You wiped your floured hands on your apron. "I think we can manage that." You were wrapping up Sebastian's order when your boss called you over. "Call it a day. I'll still pay you for the whole day. Enjoy the time. Take something else to drink, it's warm today." You thanked her profusely, changed quickly and joined them. You walked to the park a few streets away. Liam ran to the playground and Sebastian and you sat down on a bench. You gave him his cupcake and took a biscuit yourself. "Can I talk to you?" You turned your head to him. "Always. Is something wrong?" He shook his head. "The usual with Victoria, but it's not about that. It's about you." "About me?" "I wanted to tell you that I can't be friends with you anymore." You spat out the biscuit and coughed violently. "Oh god I didn't mean to, I'm sorry." "Then what were you supposed to do with it?" "This." he murmured softly, his warm lips suddenly covering your own. Smiling, you closed your eyes and returned his kiss. "I don't want to be friends with you anymore, I want more with you. More kissing, more hugs. Everything." You bit your lip."I want that too."

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[midnightbabylon]

Daddy´s Little Girl

summary: Bucky thinks you’re just your dad’s rich little daughter. He’s following you like a stalker because he thinks you need a guard. But little did he know that there is more under the surface...

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

word count: 2.4

warnings: language + attempted rape

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"Y/N. Where the hell are you? Call me back or...." he exhaled loudly. "You don't want to know what happens then." Furious, Bucky took the phone from his ear. You had slipped away from him at the mall and now you were untraceable to him. He squeezed his hand so hard that the leather of the glove made unhealthy noises. Bucky was hired by your father Conrad Grayson to protect you. Your father was one of the most influential men in New York and would soon be making big money deals. You were a potential target for everyone who hated your father. However, you knew nothing about this job. If you found out the real reason Bucky was following you, you would kill your father with your own hands, he knew that and Bucky knew it. You, however, as a young adult of just 21 years, wanted to enjoy your life. But this bad-tempered man was always around you. When you were in the toilet earlier, you couldn't escape from him. That changed when you insisted on going to Victoria's Secret. The handsome man didn't want to risk his job because he got strange looks from others. After all, officially you had a nine-year age difference. Unofficially, hundreds of years more. But only Barnes, your father and his good friend Tony Stark, who had recommended the new bodyguard at your side, knew about this.

He kept his eyes on you in the shop for a while. You walked through the rows and lifted various models of panties into the air. You put on a show for him. You knew very well that he was watching you. You couldn't help grinning as he swallowed while you disappeared with a red underwear set towards the changing rooms and out of his sight at the same time. He'd been trying not to look too controlling all along, but this man had a definite protective instinct. This was Bucky's first time in this mall with you, so he didn't know there was a second exit from this shop. You had arranged to meet your friends at the little bar a few streets away. They had the best burgers and milkshakes. When you saw your group of friends already sitting outside, you felt the triumph. By now you'd been in the changing room quite a while, Bucky thought to himself, and stepped uncertainly into the shop. The shop assistant could see his nervousness. "Can I help you?" she asked effusively nice. He cleared his throat. "Yes, my friend walked in here earlier. Maybe you saw her? She was going to the changing rooms." The blonde woman nodded thoughtfully. "Yes indeed. But she went past the changing rooms and took the escalators down. There's another exit from the shop on the first floor." Bucky's eyes snapped open and he cracked his knuckles. "There's another exit?" His voice sounded dangerous and the saleswoman took a step back. "Thanks." He grumbled softly and stormed out of the shop. He spent another half hour just searching every damn shop for you.

"Y/N." You froze in your movement. "Oh no." Your head sank down in disappointment. "Someone's in trouble." Piped Jasper in amusement. "Oh shut your mouth you freak." You said annoyed and upset at the same time. You didn't even look in Bucky's direction. Maybe he would just walk away. "Y/N Grayson." Bucky's voice sounded darker. For some reason, that fact turned you on. Someone tapped you on the shoulder. "Young lady, that man there wants to talk to you." The woman from the next table smiled at you, but clearly she was just uncomfortable. "I know, thank you. I don't want to talk to him though." You threw him an ironic smile and turned around. Then you took the straw from your strawberry milkshake back into your mouth. Heavy footsteps echoed down on the old wooden floor and a shadow came over you. He was standing right behind you now. You knew it even without Xavier and Jasper's fear-filled gaze. Bucky could be really scary, but you were used to it. Every time he gave you a look like that, heat rose in a certain region of your body. "I will not come with you. I want to be able to enjoy my free time without you for once." He laughed softly. "You know that's impossible little one." What had he just called you? Angrily you rose from your seat. "Repeat that." All you got in reply was a cheeky grin. "You know what? Just fuck you." You reached for your handbag. "Watch your language." You challenged him with your gaze. Without further ado, he grabbed your legs and threw you over his shoulder. "What the! Bucky put me down now!" you said hysterically. "No." His grip on your legs only tightened. "God this is so embarrassing." you mumbled softly. "All my friends are watching this." you complained. He calmly walked with you across the car park to his dark car. Only when he was right in front of it did he set you down. "I hate you." Annoyed, you hit him on the chest with the flat of your hand. “It’s based on mutuality, you little spoiled brat.” He spit the words at you and opened the door for you. He was angry, so you shouldn't take his words personally. But somehow it still hurt in the chest. He’d surrounded you with his arms so you couldn’t run away from him. He wouldn’t fall for you that easy. When you finally sat down, he slammed the door a little too aggressively for your taste.

The drive home was long and silent. He didn't speak a word to you and vice versa. You were leaning against the window. Still pissed off, you watched the passing landscape in boredom. Bucky parked the car right in front of the big pompous front door. Before he could switch off the engine, you had already got out. In the grand foyer, your father was already waiting with a frown on his face. "To my office." A guilty conscience overcame you and tears burned in your eyes as you walked into his office with your head down. At some point in your life you had stopped counting how many times your father had lectured you. Today he had been particularly angry. "How careless can you be?! Do you know what could have happened to you?" And so on. You knew he was just worried about you, but you were an adult, for God's sake. Why did you need someone to follow you around 24 hours a day, seven days a week? It was a wonder Bucky didn't sleep like a watchdog at your door. After the "talk" with your father where he wouldn't let you get a word in edgewise, you holed up in your room. Being rich had its advantages and disadvantages. Your own bathroom? Advantage. Getting grounded in his huge room? Advantage. Getting his beloved book collection taken away? Disadvantage. You weren't the kind of person who gave much to his mobile phone. Your father knew that. It wasn't a punishment to take it away from you. But those hundred books on your wall? Those were the biggest target. Now they were locked away for a whole week. What should you do this week? Late in the evening there was a knock on your door. "I'm not here," you mumbled from under your covers. "Honey, it's me." Your mom came into your room with a small tray. The scent of your favourite tea crept into your nose. You couldn't help but smile. "I'm sorry," you said guiltily. "Oh, you have nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. I was young once too. Your father is just worried. With so many big dates coming up, you're in danger. You know your father has made many enemies in his life." You sighed. "Does he let me spy in my house arrest too?" Your mother handed you your teacup. "Mr Barnes lives here, darling. You're bound to run into each other from time to time." You bit the inside of your cheek and sipped your tea comfortably with your mother. "I'll give you a few little chores and you won't be bored." You rolled your eyes. "Moooom." you complained, "What? Maybe this will convince your father that you're ready for your own place." She gave you a loving kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well okay."

All your life you had to try to be perfect for your father. But you were always in the shadow of your big brother. He studied, just like Dad. He did the same internships as Dad. He would soon take a place in the company. Then he would be the boss, just like Dad. Nothing you did was good enough for him. Until today, you never had heard the words "I'm proud of you." Your morning swims in the sea had to be moved to the pool. It was not the same. You missed the salty air. Still, you needed the balance. In your bikini you made your way to the kitchen. Your hair was still wet. If your mother could see you dripping all over the expensive tiles, you would have to clean the whole house. It's not like you have staff for that. You calmly made yourself a smoothie and looked at the list your mother had written for you. After several hours, the list was completed. Now a hot long shower sounded really tempting. On the way to your room, you passed the library. Longingly, you pushed down the handle, but as expected, the room was locked. "You're still banned from books." You clenched your jaw tightly. "I know. I know who's to blame, too. When did you tell my father yesterday that I'd run away?" He raised an eyebrow. "It's my fault?" He licked his lips, chuckling. "I think you have something mixed up." He crossed his arms in front of him. Involuntarily, you watched as the black shirt stretched across his muscles. "Oh no!" You smiled at him, but your smile did not reach your eyes. Anger flashed in them instead. Bucky saw your vulnerable side flash for the first time. But as quickly as it had come, it disappeared. "I'd like the fitness room to myself... if you don't mind." The sarcasm dripped from your voice. "No problem princess." And there it was again. That little twinge in your chest. Did he really think you were that shallow? You shook off the thought. Just as you were getting changed, your personal trainer rang. "Perfect timing." Bucky watched from the first floor. "You're grounded." he grumbled. "Grounded doesn't mean people can't come to my house." You followed John into the basement, but not before you could still give Bucky the middle finger.

John came by every day to help you with your workouts. Bucky watched him closely. Somehow he had a bad feeling about this guy. That feeling was confirmed on the last of your house arrest days. He was heading for the sauna area of the basement when he passed the gym. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "Come on sweetie. It's only once. You'll enjoy it. Why else would you keep me hot all week if I can't have a piece of the pie?" The soldier in him seethed. "John please!" you whimpered. It wasn't an aroused whimper, it sounded painful. Not a second later, Bucky kicked in the door. The bastard had you pinned to one of the floor mats. When Bucky saw the relief and fear in your eyes, it was a done deal. He turned his head a little to the side. "Get off her." The vibranium made the nerves in his shoulder tingle. Joh laughed. "Mind your own business Man, we're busy here." Filthily he licked his lips while you turned your face away in disgust. Now he had had enough. Within the blink of an eye, the weight had gone from your body. You took a deep breath. You hadn't even realised that you had been holding your breath. Bucky held John pressed against the wall. Metal fingers around his throat. John was terrified. "What are you man?" he asked, frightened. Bucky smiled. "Your worst nightmare." Concerned, you walked up to Bucky. Gently, you put a hand on his shoulder. "Put him down." you asked him softly. Bucky held eye contact for a few seconds before John fell to the floor, breathing heavily. He put his hands protectively around his throat. "Are you all right?" he put his hand to your cheek. You smiled gratefully at him. "I'll walk you to the door John." The danger emanating from his body made you horny. Yet it was wrong to think of him that way. "Go to your room. I'll join you in a moment and bring you some tea." Gently he pushed you towards the stairs before following with John. Once there, Bucky pushed the pervert down the four steps to the driveway.

"I suggest you never set foot on this property again. The best thing you can do is pack your shabby clothes and get out of the Hamptons, forever." He looked at John with a fake grin. John's jaw muscles moved and he stared at the metal fingers on his car. Bucky closed the door before he looked after the car until it was out of sight. When Bucky entered your room, you looked huddled on the edge of the bed. "Hey." The mattress beside you lowered. Your shoulders touched. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're sick." He looked into your glazed eyes. "I want to wash it off me." Your shoulders began to shake and he pulled you into his arms. "Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?" his voice almost rolled over. You couldn't answer him but just looked at him while tears ran down your cheeks. "Please help me wash him off." He nodded worriedly and followed you into your bathroom. He helped you take off your clothes. He would burn the pile in the fireplace later. You didn't care that he saw you naked now, you just needed his support. He helped you into the shower and stood behind you fully dressed. He turned on the water and helped you to shower. He washed your hair first and then your body with a loofah sponge. Nothing in the world mattered to him at that moment except your well-being. He just held you in his arms and whispered soothing words to you until your sobs finally quietened.

Part 2???

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[midnightbabylon]

Traitor

summary: After Sebastian and you found out his wife Victoria was cheating on him, his world fell apart. The cherry on the cake was the revelation she was pregnant. Is it really Sebastians or that of your still-husband? The mystery continues...

pairing: Sebastian Stan x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none just great content hahaha

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“I have to get out of here.“ You took a deep breath and held back your tears. Before Sebastian or Victoria could say anything, you were out the door and in your own house. Breathing heavily, you pressed yourself to your front door. Sobbing, you found yourself on the cold floor. It could all have been a bad dream. Your husband had been cheating on you the whole time with the woman next door. How can you not notice something like that? Were you really that blind? For the next few days, you’ll be hiding in your bed. You couldn’t sleep or eat, but nothing else felt right. The curtains were closed and you didn’t shower anymore. One afternoon, there was a penetrating knock on your front door. Annoyed, you went to look, only to find a desperate Liam. Soon you opened the door and squatted in front of him. “Liam, what are you doing here? Where are your parents?” he fell around your neck and began to cry. “They fight all the time and I miss you. I want to play with you and I miss your delicious muffins too.” You caressed his curls. “Ah Liam”. you sighed quietly. “Come on, let’s make blueberry muffins together, okay?” He nodded lightly, still pressed to you. The little man had conquered so much of your heart in such a short time. He didn’t mind your outward appearance. He was a kid. Still, you wanted to take a shower as soon as the muffins were in the oven. Liam was always thrilled to help you bake. He just put some white chocolate chips over the muffins, and you put them in the oven. “I have a surprise for you. You can play with it while I’m in the shower. If something happens, you come running to the bathroom or you scream.” You took a serious look at him, and he nodded fast. You went into your bedroom and pulled out a Lego set, which he had in mind since the last time he was with you at Target. He had just talked about it and you hadn’t had a chance to give it to him yet. He uttered an excited scream and clutched the box. “Thank you, thank you, Y/N. Wow.” You smiled good-natured and disappeared into the bathroom. The shower had done well. You were hanging up the wet towels when Liam came sprinting into the bathroom, a Lego figure pressed tightly to him. “Someone is knocking furiously”, he whispered anxiously. “Stay here and hide in the bathtub.” You closed the door and went to the front door. Through the door spy, you saw Sebastian’s worried face. “Y/N!” he screamed desperately. Quickly you opened the door. “Liam is with me. Take a deep breath.” Sebastian’s widened eyes calmed down. “Oh, thank God. I’ve been so busy with.” He stopped because you interrupted him. “Fighting with her? He told me crying.“ He wanted to get away from you Sebastian. He was so scared”, you said quietly. “Liam it’s just your daddy. You can come out”. you shouted down the hallway. The bathroom door opened quietly and Liam looked in our direction. Exhaling loudly, he ran into his father’s arms. The timer in the kitchen went off and you got the deliciously-smelling pastries out of the oven. “Dad, I don’t want to go home”, Liam muttered quietly. You put the muffins in the cool kitchen room to cool off and cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. “I know, Angel, I’m so sorry”, Sebastian muttered. “I wish it were different too. Do we want to go to the garden and play football? Or build a sand castle?” Liam shook his head violently. “I want to eat Y/N’s muffins. We baked them together. There’s soooo many blueberries in there.” Liam stretched out his arms and Sebastian laughed. “That sounds good. Maybe I’ll get one too.” He tickled his son’s stomach and they both came into the kitchen. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N we’re here to pick up one of your delicious-smelling pastries.” You had to smile and take three muffins and sit down at the table with them. The sun shone through the large glass front. It all felt way too comfortable. A nice man by your side and a kid. Quickly you shake off the thought and bit in the juicy little cake. Nothing could have destroyed that beautiful, quiet moment except a furious Victoria Stan stormed through your yard and just walked into your house.

“Are you serious? I’m searching the whole neighborhood for our son and you’re having coffee gossip with this bitch? What are you guys? Are you playing healthy family life or what?!” Angry about her trespassing in your house, you tried to defend yourself, but she pointed her finger at you threateningly. “Just don’t try to talk yourself out, little one”. “Victoria!” Sebastian said indignantly. “She’s not stealing my family!” Victoria yelled and then began to sob loudly. “I’m not stealing anything here. Liam came to me scared because he couldn’t stand it at home anymore.” The little boy clung to his daddy. “It would be better if you left my house now”you said quietly. "And by that I mean all of you." without another word you opened the glass door and waited. Victoria threw her hair behind her shoulders and arrogantly left your property. Sebastian took his son in his arms. "I'm so sorry Y/N." You just shook your head. "Save it, it's not your fault." Liam you gave a small smile. "What's a bitch?" he asked quietly, addressing his dad. "Oh God, I'll explain later, okay?" The handsome man next door turned to you again. "I'm really sorry. I'll get back to you soon." You didn't reply anything more and closed the door behind them. "It would be better if you didn't," you murmured to yourself. You cooled your forehead on the glass before drawing the curtains. If you spent more time with them, you would surely fall in love with your neighbour. You had to stop this before it caused more problems.

You had hired a realtor to sell your house. In the last week, the neighbours across the street moved out. You made an offer and today you had the signed contract in your hand. The house was a lot smaller and you had also managed to get a job interview. Maybe now everything would change for the better. The day of the moving had come. Your parents had come all the way from another state to help you. Just as you were loading your little car with the last box from the kitchen, Sebastian came storming out of his house. "What's going on here? Y/N? You're moving away? Why didn't you say anything?" his words almost spilled over. You wanted to press your hands on his chest to calm him down. But his heart belonged to someone else. "I'm just moving into the Johnson house. It's smaller and I can postpone my unemployment for a while by selling my house. What would I do with such a big house with so many painful memories? I just can't live next door to you anymore. It's not you." you sighed softly. "I know, I know." He raised his hands placatingly. "Can I help you?" You looked to your now old house. "I don't think there's that much left inside, but sure." He followed you inside, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty rooms. "Wow that looks so depressing." You let your gaze glide over the wooden floor. "I know something that looks like that too," you replied ironically. "What?" he looked at you with interest. "Your marriage," you said dryly. You looked at each other. The air became electrically charged and you both started to laugh. "That was a good one. Shit." He took the two boxes in your bedroom and you took the plant. "I hope we can still keep in touch, even if you live 400 metres away now." You had to laugh. "Oh that's going to be hard when I see you and Liam so far away now." He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. We've become good friends over the last few weeks. At least I think so, or do you have a different opinion?" "I am very grateful for the conversations between us. If you feel like it, I'll cook something for us. Quite platonically. I don't want your pregnant wife setting fire to my new house." He put the boxes in front of your car. "I doubt it's my child. I'll demand a paternity test. But every time I try to talk to her about it, she either starts crying or she turns into a fury. She’s really using this pregnancy to distract from the real issue. " Disappointed, he shook his head. "What are you going to do about it?" you asked quietly, closing the boot. "I'm going to go through her things. Can you maybe do me a favour?" Startled, you open your eyes. "I won't help you go through her things," you say quickly. "No, I would never ask you to do that. I was going to ask you if you might find some evidence in Patrick's old things." He scratched the back of his head. "I doubt I have much of his stuff left..but I can try. Give me a few days to unpack." You smiled at him trustingly. "Of course. Arrive safely." You walked to the driver's door. "Thank you Sebastian." He leaned against the side of your car. "Call me Seb, please."

Four days later, you folded up the last box and stowed it with the others in the garage. Tired, sweaty and exhausted, you rubbed your forehead with the back of your hand. "Finally." After a much-needed shower, you made some fresh lemonade and went to your terrace in the garden. The sun was shining brightly on this Sunday. You had last week's pile of mail on the table next to the swing. The cool lemonade provided immediate refreshment. You were wearing a pink bikini under your light cardigan. You went through the typical bills and advertisements before you opened the next envelope, beaming. Your contract for the new job as a pastry chef in the new bakery. The interview couldn't have gone better. Now you could put your passion into practice on the job again. You happily signed the contract before your face froze. A letter from Patrick. "Please, not the divorce papers. Be an adult for once." you muttered to yourself like a mantra. You looked expectantly at the pile of papers. He hadn't signed it, of course. Frustrated, you took off your cardigan and went to the pool. Now you would have to turn to him again, just so you could go on with your life without him. You let your body slide into the cool water and swam a few laps. When your head was finally clear, you got out of the pool. "Wow." Shocked, you winced and looked at your ex-neighbour. "God, you scared me." He slowly looked you up and down but you didn't feel uncomfortable. Leaning casually against the railing of your terrace, he took a drag on a cigarette. "Since when do you smoke?" He squinted one eye because of the brightness. He watched you closely until you stood in front of him in your cardigan. "I only do it when I'm stressed or frustrated." You crossed your arms in front of you. His gaze slowly went down before he looked you in the eye again. "And what stresses or frustrates you?" "I can't find anything to confirm their affair. It's obvious... but without hard evidence." He exhaled a cloud of smoke. Disgusted, you waved your hand in front of your face. "I'll help you. It will be hard but...come with me. But get rid of the disgusting thing first. Outside my property." With a heavy heart you took the box out of your wardrobe. You had saved every gift and flower Patrick had ever given you. "What's this?" asked Seb, sitting down on the armchair in your bedroom. "The past," you answered and had to swallow the lump in your throat. It had been a long time since you last opened the box. The memories haunted you. Your former marriage smiled at you through photos and the negative pregnancy tests laughed at you. "Y/N." said Seb breathlessly. "I couldn't give him a baby." Your voice broke in mid-sentence. "And now she's giving him one." Strong arms pulled you against a solid body. "Don't tell yourself that. He's an asshole and she's no better. They both betrayed us and broke their promises." He gently wiped away your tears with his thumb. "I'll help you look through the box and we'll bust them both. I promise." You nodded slowly and looked at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so emotional, but this is a difficult subject for me. We've been trying to get pregnant for years." He took your face in his big hands. "It's all going to work out okay?" His face came closer to yours. Your heart was beating like mad. Was this the moment of your first kiss? You closed your eyes in anticipation. But instead of a kiss, the doorbell rang.

Part 3 is coming!!!!

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