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gretavanmoon · 3 months

Text

E09

Spinning Now: "Ex" by Aer (2014) (and a little bit of "Wonderin' Why")

Pairing: Sam x OC

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Manipulation, Cheating, Sadness, Bad Coping Mechanisms, Hella Angst

Smut including: Kissing, Touching, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Reluctant Dominance if you squint

+ So these songs aren't ones that were suggested by you guys, but Aer has always been one of my favorite groups, and these two songs have kind of always gone hand in hand for a little storyline playing out in my head. Not much thought went into this, but sad surfer boy Sam just felt too appealing to pass up lol. Give them a listen if you don't know them, they'll make you want to live in a little beach town with nothing better to do than skate & surf <33

◇ ◇ ◇

A glance to your watch lets you know it's nearing eleven, but the bloom of warmth in your chest from your scotch on the rocks is making you forget about your impending 9AM clock-in. The bartender, Marcus, raises an eyebrow at you as you slide the empty glass his way, silently asking for a refill.

“Same thing, Sammy? Since when did you start drinking scotch, anyway?” he asks, refilling your glass with a handful of ice before pouring the Johnny Walker overtop of it. You return his question with a menacing glare; he knows exactly when you switched from whatever draft IPA was on tap to… this. You watch the ice cubes swirl around in the glass as it fills, keeping silent as your bare foot taps on the wood-slat floor beneath your barstool. “Oh. Right, nevermind,” he responds with a bite of his tongue before being approached by another patron.

You sigh as you turn in your stool beside the ice machine, running a hand through your saltwater-damp strands, feeling the effects of forgetting to put sunscreen across your cheeks this morning. The icy liquor hits your teeth as you sip from the edge of the glass, letting the fire ignite inside your chest again. The feeling is one you’ve become fond of as of late, but you know the headache that will accompany it will have you kicking yourself in the ass tomorrow. The wind is blowing the palms Eastward, and the warmth of the humid air feels like a storm may be preparing to blow through, if you had to guess.

Sand is still gritting between your teeth every now and then as you people-watch at the crowded beachfront bar, Donovan’s, watching as locals and tourists alike dance and sing along with the house band. The multicolored spinning lights are bouncing off the faces of the strangers mixed in with your acquaintances, and you suddenly feel a little envious that you aren’t out there enjoying being alive with them.

A year ago, you would have been right in the middle of it all, stealing the microphone away from the front man, belting out the words to Sweet Caroline or Margaritaville, but now, things are different. Now, you stick to the sidelines in a way that you never have before. Your entire mind, body, and soul have been overtaken by a completely new human being, someone that you aren’t familiar with, drifting further and further away from your true self as the sun rises and sets over the ocean.

Are you happy with yourself?

No, not necessarily. But what the fuck is your other option? You can’t run away to a new place, and you can’t ignore the elephant in the room, so instead of taking control of your life, you let it have you. You bask in the fact that this degenerate side of your lifestyle has become more addictive than any drug you’ve ever done, and you have to admit, it’s more delicious than you could have ever imagined.

◇

A few years ago, now, you’d ridden into this tiny little beach town with your surfboard riding behind you on your baby pink Schwinn bike. You’d come here with nothing but an oversized backpack stuffed full of ratty t-shirts and a few pairs of board shorts, a straw hat, and your lucky koozie in your back pocket. You barely even had more than $300 in your wallet. You’d spent the first week sleeping on the beach and avoiding high-tides, riding around town looking for a job and a place to stay that had a decent roof.

Finally, after four or five days of searching, you’d landed a job as a surf instructor at the Ten Down surf shop, working Wednesday through Sunday for minimum wage plus tips. You were over the moon, of course, working in the field of what you knew and loved best, the ocean.

Growing up as the only child of a single dad was oftentimes more difficult than it was enjoyable, but your father took the hardships in stride. He’d raised you alone, working while you were at school and then teaching you how to surf in the evenings. Even if your father struggled, you never knew it. He was a wild character, always the life of the party and had more wisdom in his pinky finger than you had in your whole body. All your memories of him are fond, and he taught you more about life than you’d ever learned on your own.

He was street smart, intelligent in ways that didn’t make sense to other people. And damn, if he didn’t love the ocean. Loved it so much that he devoted his life to it. And in the end, it was the ocean that took him away from you. Why he thought venturing out during a storm by himself is beyond you still to this day, and you’ve only just now started to forgive him for it. Maybe it had something to do with your mom not being there to help raise you. Maybe he thought he was more powerful than the waves he rode. You’ll never know.

It was only a week after you got hired at Ten Toes that your co-worker Scotty figured out that your home was somewhere up underneath the pier, and asked if you’d like to crash on his couch with him and his housemates. You couldn’t turn down his offer, of course, knowing that if you had to sleep one more night with the sandflies you might actually move back to your shitty hometown. The house was small, but big enough to hold his three roommates and you on their sofa.

In hindsight, that might have been the absolute best year of your entire life, thus far. Everyone you lived with was on the same level as you… surfing to live, and living to surf. You shared meals, met their families, partied way too much, and spent every single night together watching the sun drift down below the waves from your seats on your boards. You were making money, you were having more fun than you ever imagined possible. You were in a constant state of bliss, that is until she came around and turned your entire world upside down.

The day your manager introduced her as the new hire at the shop was the first day of the rest of your life. Her sweet and timid hand taking yours into a handshake, taking your breath straight from your lungs as she introduced herself as ‘Cora’. You became enraptured by her, the way her green eyes poked through her lashes, the way her freckles sat perfectly across her tanned face, the way her long hair reached far past her waist…

She was the newest hire at the shop, just like you had been the summer previous, so you understood completely how it could be a little difficult to grasp how things went, there. So you took her under your wing a little, volunteering to show her the ropes and walk her through her probie-period of learning. She was shy at first, hardly giving you more than a few sentences a day. But you committed each of those sentences to your memory, hanging on her every word like they were the last ones you’d ever hear uttered from her perfectly pink lips.

Over the period of that summer, your shy coworker became your good friend, and as the blaze of the summer started to drift into the coolness of Fall, your good friend became the one you ended up falling asleep with under the pier, this time by choice.

You fell fast and hard for one another, freefalling blindly into what felt like a bottomless pit that the two of you would never tire of floating through. Everything was perfect, she was perfect. Every waking hour was spent with her, surfing, hiking, biking, socializing… and the sleeping hours were spent wrapped up in each other, tangling your limbs and intricately weaving your emotions into what you could only describe as pure and effortless love.

She came out of her shell once she became comfortable with you, spending more and more time away from her own roommates to crash out on the futon in your room you were able to acquire when one of Scotty’s buddies moved out. For the longest time, it felt like life couldn’t get any better, like you’d truly hit the peak, and there was no way you’d ever be able to be any happier than this, here, with her.

‘Love, Sammy… you love me?’

‘With everything I am, baby, I swear…’

And you did, you really and truly did love her. All the other failed relationships of your past dulled in comparison to what you had with Cora. You didn’t have to try with her, the ease of your lives came and went just as easily as the waves crashed onto the beach and drifted away again, always unfaltering and headstrong.

You weren’t even upset when she decided to get a second job at the only 24-hour restaurant in town waiting tables during the lunch and dinner shifts. In fact, you were happy, seeing as how the two of you had begun to save up a little money to rent a place of your own.

You weren’t upset when she began to pick up more shifts there at the restaurant than she did at Ten Down. And you weren’t even pissed when she started bringing home more money than you, even after you’d been employed at the shop for almost two years. You shrugged it all off, because you were a team, in this together, sharing everything under the sun as you survived the world with her.

You weren’t pissed. Not even in the least.

Until one night in early summer when you woke up on a Saturday morning ready to rush to the shop for your surf lesson, pulling yourself from the sheets only to realize she wasn’t asleep next to you. You checked the bathroom, the other guys’ bedrooms, outside on the porch… she was nowhere. And her bike wasn’t parked outside.

Her phone went straight to voicemail over and over and over, and her texts pulled up green as you began to realize her phone was off. Panic set in as your mind began to rush with possibilities of if she was hurt or harmed… thoughts back to last night reminded you that you’d crashed out early after a smoke session with Scotty, sending her a sweet goodnight text that assured her not to work too hard.

After telling Scotty to call you if he heard back from her, you took off on your bike down the sandy street toward the restaurant, hoping to talk to someone who may have closed with her last night.

“Nope, they cut a couple of us at 11:30 and sent us home, I haven’t seen her since…” one of her coworkers told you, only sending your panic into a deeper spiral. You called her roommates, her friends, hell, you ever texted her mom to see if anyone had spoken to her since yesterday. But all came up empty handed. It was like she had vanished.

You decided to ride to the shop to see if by some miraculous chance she’d be there, ready to work her shift. Your feet pedaled hard as you zipped through alleyway shortcuts and across parking lots to get there faster, your heart pounding in your ears as you continually checked your phone for any updates. Your tires slid sideways across the pebble gravel as you let your bike fall against the tin building, and you rushed inside in a huffed mess of nerves and sweaty exhaustion.

You yelled through the building at your coworkers, announcing your arrival. Your voice was chopped and strained as your hands shook with anticipation.

“Damon, Marie! Have you guys heard from–”

You were stopped in your tracks as you met eyes with her, seated at the check-in desk sipping coffee from a bright orange mug.

“What the FUCK! Cora, where– why…where have you been?” you squealed as you approached her, your hand reaching out to touch her to see if you were imagining things. “Why weren’t you at home?” Your last sentence came out as a hushed whisper only meant for her, as your other two coworkers walked away from the scene.

Her normally chipper and honest demeanor was replaced by something you weren’t familiar with as her eyes fell from yours, her words skipped and uncertain as she tried to explain herself.

“It’s nothing, Sammy, baby… I– I went over to Cameron’s for drinks with some of the restaurant crew after work last night… I had too many drinks and decided I shouldn’t ride home, shouldn’t walk, it’s nothing, I just…stayed there.” Her story would make sense if she had ever fucking done something like that before.

“Cameron’s? Baby, you hardly know him, and where is your phone? I’ve been calling all morning…” you pestered, still out of breath.

“It’s dead, it’s in my bag…” she said, leaving her sentence with no more explanation as she nonchalantly sipped at her coffee.

“And you didn’t think to charge it? To text me from someone else’s phone to let me know where you were? Fuck, Cora, I almost sent out a search party out for you…” your voice began to raise. “You never–why did you…?” You were at a loss for words as you tried to understand her reasoning. You knew she would have been just as worried if it were you… well, you think. Your blood was boiling for a whole other reason now, as you knew she deliberately chose to keep you in the dark for the entire night, and well into the morning.

She stood from her stool as she glanced to the double glass doors behind you, meeting eyes with her family of three for their early morning surf lessons. She placed her hand gently on the center of your chest as she still avoided eye contact. “Sam, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Please, don’t be mad…” She left you standing there in the middle of the shop like a dumbfounded idiot, her explanation offering you quite literally nothing. Your hands dropped to your sides as you fought with admitting defeat. That was really fucked up of her…

Things only got progressively worse after that. What once was a loving and beautiful sex-fueled relationship turned into one of secrecy and absence, the action of her not returning to your bed each night becoming something you got quite used to.

Drag-out fights left her crying in your arms, pulling her back into your shanty of a home you’d finally found for $400 a month. Both of you soaked from tears and the rain outside after you told her to just go… only to have her tumbling back into your bed, ravishing each other like it was the first time you’d ever laid your hands on her.

‘Don’t make me go, Sammy… this is our home… it’s ours…” she’d beg as you fucked into her, sprawled out across the mattress.

‘I’m not making you go… you keep choosing to leave…”

But yet, the vicious cycle continued. The best thing in your world, the most joy you had ever felt, continuously choosing to stay away for days on end like some type of terrifying nightmare. After so long, you stopped following her location on your phone. You stopped making sure she was okay, wherever she was. You stopped letting her into your house when she’d come back begging for another chance.

Fuck it, you’d decided, losing all the fight you had left in you when you heard through the grapevine that it wasn’t her partying that kept her at Cameron’s, it was Cameron himself.

That was the fight to end all fights. The worst one yet, when she did everything but admit that she’d been cheating all along. God damnit, you should have known. All the red flags were whipping across your face, your gut screaming at you day in and day out to listen to it. But you didn’t, because you loved her. Until that fight.

That was a long, long time ago. And after that, she never came back home.

◇

Tonight, as you work on your third scotch and deliberate on going and scooping up a girl on the dancefloor and sneaking her away for a night of revelry, your mind feels more jostled than normal.

For the past five weeks or so, Cora had inched her way back into your life after a year of separation, friendly at first, and seemingly more mature than when she had left. But, like the addictive drug that she was, she cast her spell across you, hypnotizing you into falling back into bed with her on multiple drunken occasions.

‘I’m still trying to fucking heal from you Cora, none of this feels right…’

‘I know it doesn’t baby… I’m so sorry… but nobody can love me as good as you… nobody can get me right like you can…do you know what I mean? I still crave you, baby… Don’t tell me you don’t miss me…”

After five backslides, you’d begun to fall into a routine with her again, not giving one single fuck if she was with Cameron or not. She’s still beyond addictive, a substance so disturbingly pure that you swear she isn’t as tainted and devious as she seems. Her entire being is laced with some kind of other material that you swear could end up being your demise.

The sex is even better than it was before, rounds upon rounds of the most beautiful love you’ve ever made, but you know deep down that it is far from such. There is no love in that home. No laughs shared, no blissful reconnections that end with breakfast in bed. No early morning dates out riding the waves together… No, all you do is indulge in each other’s bodies after nights of too much weed and too much alcohol, using each other to get exactly what you want and nothing else.

You can’t seem to pull yourself away from her spell, sneaking her into bar bathrooms and out onto the beach to hide her in the dunes, spilling yourself into her without a care of any repercussions. You’re drunk on her. A slave to your impulses, a traitor to your own devices. It hurts. It really fucking hurts. You know your heart still lives within her, but hers is so far gone that you don’t think it has a home at all. And you know for a fact that it doesn’t belong to you, anymore.

You think you’ve successfully managed to slip through the cracks on her list tonight, not having seen her for a few days, now. You don’t frequent this bar in search of her, like many of your friends think you do. You were here first, this is your spot. But apparently it’s hers again, too, much to your simultaneous dismay, and deep-seeded pull to fulfill your dependency on her. It’s a double edged sword any way you toss it.

“Haven’t seen her tonight, Sammy, maybe you’ve escaped her wrath yet again,” Scotty jokes as he slides into the barstool beside you. Scotty knows everything about you, and you him. You’d never admitted it to one another, but you’d probably call him your best friend. After living and working side by side with him for the past three years, you’ve been forced to like each other no matter how opposite you may be. You both share a love for surfing and it’s a language you both can understand, so when it comes to your fateful relationship with Cora, he gets it.

“Yeah, maybe so,” you agree with a sigh. “Kinda weird for a Saturday though. She’s usually got her fingers in my belt loops by now.”

Scotty scoffs a laugh, running a hand through his waves. “God damn, you’re still tied up in her eh? You ever gonna let yourself be happy?”

You sigh a deep breath of disappointment in yourself. “Tied up’s not the words, Scott. I’m fully aware that I’m a sick individual who can’t seem to stay the fuck away from her. Why am I like this?” You ask your friend over the loud music. “Should I seek help?”

“No helping you, little brother!” Scotty teases as he rustles the hair on your head. “She must squeeze that thing right,” he jokes.

“Yeah, she fuckin’ does,” you agree, avoiding eye contact with him. “That’s all it is now, man. Swear.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sammy boy. I know you better than that shit. You telling me you have no emotions when you sleep with her? No feelings anymore?”

You grit your teeth, holding back the truth. “I dunno, I mean… we were serious, man. I loved her. Now that we’re doing this shit again…” Your inner monologue with yourself fights to the death once again, your head and your heart fighting an endless battle with one another. “It just is what it is right now.”

“She still with ol’ boy?” He asks.

You shrug. “Don’t know. Don’t care,” you say blankly as you take another sip from your glass.

“So you’re just fucking, now. No strings attached?”

“That’s it, my friend,” the admission feels lifeless, as you know you still hold a candle for her.

“You know she’s using you right? This can’t be healthy for you…I know she broke your fucking heart, man,” Scotty goes on, adding a little empathy to his tone.

You simmer on his words for a second, knowing they came from a place of complete honesty. He’s entirely right.

“I’m guilty, I’ll admit to that,” you say. “My heart’s losing but. My body’s winning,” you cheese a smile at him, feeling transparent as you admit to letting a woman use you for just your body.

“Livin’ the fucking dream, my guy,” Scotty laughs hard as he places a hand on your shoulder, finishing off his beer. “You want another?” He asks as you turn back to lean on the bar, finally feeling the effects of your intoxication hitting you hard. Numbing the pain you so often succumb to.

“Ah, maybe one more. Gotta open tomorrow,” you say, winking to the bartender to add one more to your tab.

“You still uh, you still think the deal’s gonna go down?” Scotty asks as he leans his head in closely to yours.

“Hope so, everything is on track for it to be official by beginning of next season,” you explain. You hadn’t told many people yet, but the original owners of Ten Toes had decided to take an early retirement, and since you and Scotty had become their most trusted and knowledgeable employees, they offered you the business as a partnership. “You think we can do this?”

It’s a large endeavor, and you are terrified beyond belief, but you try your best to see it as the opportunity of a lifetime, taking the reigns of an already successful business and making it into your own. All the pieces are already there, all you need to do is sign your name, and your dream career of being an entrepreneur is yours for the taking.

Scotty takes his new beer in his hand, leaning it in to cheers against your glass. “I think we can do this.”

You nod at him as the two of you share a moment, letting the realization fall on you once again. “We growing up, finally, Sammy boy?”

Just as his question rings through your ears, you catch sight of her. The pretty blonde who holds every single key to all the chambers of your heart. The one you’d settled down with, the one who could truly care less about anything besides stringing you along for no more benefit than her own agenda.

She catches your gaze from across the bar, pulling her hair behind her ear as she begins to saunter your way through the crowd.

“I hope so, Scott. Maybe tomorrow, though. Looks like I’m staying an immature asshole for tonight.” You tilt your chin her way, causing Scotty to follow your gaze her way.

“Fuck. She showed. Thought you might actually get a night of freedom,” Scott complains with the slightest bit of clip to his tone. You know Scotty is worried about you, wants the best for you. And you do, too, but for tonight you’re going to allow yourself to think with the wrong head yet again. And with that tight dress she has on, you’re going to fucking enjoy it, too.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, man,” Scott says with defeat as he slides his half-drank beer mug across the bartop.

“Night Scott.”

Her eyes haven’t left yours since you caught sight of her, the breeze blowing up the ruffles at the bottom of her stark white dress. She’s making her way closer, her perfectly tanned legs sauntering across the floor as you finally break your gaze, turning to the bartender to order her a drink.

You feel her presence behind you, the smell of her perfume already wafting across your nose. She pulls the stool that Scott had just inhabited a few inches closer to you, leaning her chin down into the crook of her folded arms.

“Where’s Cameron?” you ask lowly as the bartender slides her glass in front of her.

“Hello to you too, Sam,” she barks from behind her arm, sitting up to squeeze the lime into the vodka.

You cut your eyes her way, knowing that sometimes it wasn’t unlike her to show up at this bar and flirt her way into your embrace, only for Cameron to show up an hour later and whisk all of her attention right away. It’d only happened a couple of times, but still yet, it stung.

“I said where is Cameron?” you bite, really not feeling like pursuing this if he was going to show up.

She sighs a quick breath of aggravation. “Not here. Not coming.”

You sip at the scotch that’s discontinued burning your lips, now numbing not only your mouth but your ability to make decisions, too. “You came all the way over here by yourself, again?”

Cora flips her brown leather bag up onto the bar, her multiple keychains hanging off of it clanking against the wooden bar. “Yeah, Sam, I did. I’m actually… back in town, kind of…” she trails off, smoothing her waist-long locks against her hip.

All the blood rushes from your head, straight into your extremities. Fuck. Back in town?!

“What do you mean kind of?” you ask, beginning to tap your toes against the bottom rung of your stool again.

“I mean I’m working on getting back over this way… looking for a.. place…” She speaks almost as if she’s embarrassed to be admitting this to you.

“What, things not working out in la la land?” you scoff.

“Can you cut the shit, Sam?” she slams her glass down. ��God, everything has to turn into some bullshit argument with you. Every single time.”

You can feel the resentment billowing up in your chest. You know that she has regret, and she lets it show every time you’re together. But you revel in the fact that she made her bed, now she has to lie in it. And everytime she ends up back in your bedroom, you press the dagger a little further, knowing that hurting her just as much as she hurt you is enough to get you through. Until the next time, of course.

“I’m not arguing, Cor. Just asking.” You make a point to keep your words short. If an argument is going to happen, again, it won’t be by your hand.

She huffs. “I just… want to be on my own right now. Figure my shit out. Plus the surf sucks down there, anyway.” You can tell she’s lying.

You smile behind your glass. “Cameron only lives fifteen minutes away, doll. Can’t imagine it’s that much different.”

“Why are you pushing the Cameron agenda? We’re not even–”

“Not together? Do you think I’m stupid, Cora? People talk, and I talk back. It’s not a fucking mystery,” you run your tongue behind your teeth as you feel the rage boiling up in you again, knowing that this fourth scotch isn’t doing much to help. “Everyone knows what happened, what you did to me. So just admit it, you’re unhappy because the grass wasn’t greener. Now you want your old life back, that what it is?”

You know this isn’t a discussion that needs to be held at this bar. You know that your words are flying a lot faster than you’d intended. But you deserve to bitch.

“Sam, you really don’t want to do this,” Cora hums as you hear the band move from one song to the next, the crowd finally riling up at the late hour.

Your skin is burning with rage at the realization that she’s seriously thinking about moving back here again, after everything that had happened. After knowing what she did to you. Cheated, lied… then allowed herself to play you like a marionette, a puppet she could call on whenever she needed a quick fuck.

No. No. This is your home, now.

“No, I kinda do, Cora,” you raise your voice a little, turning your body toward her to face her completely in your stool. You could feel the intoxication slurring your words and blurring your vision. “Admit it. You left me because I obviously wasn’t what you wanted, so you ran away without even having the decency to tell me why… to even break things off before you hopped into bed with Cameron. Admit it! You came here looking for me tonight, didn’t you? Looking for the same goddamned thing you always are.” You were borderline yelling at her, now. But it felt good. It felt good to finally get it all out, the alcohol doing away with all your inhibitions.

She cowered away a little, sitting back in her seat as her face got more red with each passing second. But you’re smarter than that, this is all part of her act.

“You think I came here just so you’d take me home again, Sam?”

“Yeah, Cora! What the fuck else would you be here for?! This happens way more than it should. Honestly, it’s slutty behavior, and it’s not a good look on you, it never has been.”

Just as your last word leaves your mouth, you feel the icy stickiness of vodka splashing you across the neck and chest, the lime slice thudding against your stomach as the cold liquid drips down into your lap, followed by a hundred slivers of ice.

You throw your hands up into the air as you scoot your stool back, catching the attention of a few people seated nearby. “What the fuck, Cora?! Are you fucking crazy??” you scream, brushing off the vodka that dripped down your chin.

“Fuck you, Sam!” she yells as she grabs her bag and jumps from her seat, rushing down the steps back out onto the beach. You glance to Marcus, wordlessly telling him that you’ll pay your tab tomorrow.

You follow her down the steps out onto the beach that is nearly empty, now. You can feel your feet tripping over themselves as you chase her to the pier, the tide already coming up well above the beams. The wind is whipping furiously, now, and the storm you predicted earlier is most definitely on its way.

“Cora! Stop!” you shout, ordering her to slow down.

“NO!” she yells over the howl of the wind that was now blowing tiny specks of sand against your legs. “Leave me be, Sam!”

Finally she makes it to another set of stairs that lead up to the road, not far away from what used to be your home with her. “Cor! Please!” you beg. You don’t know why you’re chasing her, your chest still dripping with the vodka soda she decided to douse you with. Why? Why follow her at all? Fuck her, fuck this… but your legs carry you, yet.

She stomps up the stairs, finally turning and crossing her arms across her chest when she reaches the top. Her eyes were red, but no tears wet her cheeks. “What? What, Sam? What do you want me to say?” she barks.

Your body is like a magnet to hers, pulling you instantly into her bubble. You reach up and brush away the invisible tear that you know is bound to fall at any second, willing yourself to catch it before it decides to escape. “I want you to fucking admit it to me, Cora! Be fucking real with me for once! Tell me everything, not just the parts of the story that benefit you!”

She rips herself away from your hand, turning and walking through the parking lot. “I fucking can’t Sam! I won’t! I know I’ve screwed everything up, and it’s all my fault!”

You chase after her again. “Why, Cora?! Be a fucking adult and tell me! I deserve at least that much, don’t you think?” Your breath is heaving again as you practically beg her to just speak to you.

She continues running through the lot and down the street as the clouds continue to push across the dark sky, threatening rain. You can smell it in the air as a few flashes of lightning flash over the sea again.

She finally stops at her car, standing beside it as she furiously tries to dig her keys from the bottom of the bag. You finally catch up, maneuvering your body to stand between her and the door. She’s in full-on sobs, now, choking back the cry that you’ve seen her put herself through time and time again. “Let me go, Sam,” she begs through clipped chokes.

“No. You’re going to talk to me. I’m–I’m sorry I called you… that. I shouldn’t have said that, and I deserve to wear this fucking vodka,” you say reluctantly as you brush it off you again. “I’m not letting you into this car until you talk to me. Tell me the truth. Once and for all, Cora.” You could feel the sadness sticking in your throat, all the old emotion you had for her bubbling up again. Old love is a strange thing, the way it intertwines itself in your bones, strong and stoic until the person that shared it with you comes back and makes it fragile again. Like cracked glass, you begin to shatter for her.

“Tell me you cheated on me. Just say it. Tell me you love him more than you ever loved me, and I’ll let you go,” you say with defeat, hot tears filling your eyes. “I just need to hear it, please… I can’t do this anymore, Cor…”

Her hands come up to cover her eyes as she turns and paces, your final request hitting her as hard as it hit you. You can’t do this any more, you can’t chase her for months on end, only for her to race back into the arms of someone else. It’s time to end it, if it’s going to end at all. Still, even after all this, you’d do anything for her.

Finally she gets herself together again, standing tall and sturdy before you. You watch as her hands slowly make their way to wrap around your waist, her chest still heaving, too. Just the feeling of her skin on yours is enough to make every muscle in your body relax. Her hands gripping into your back, her cheek pressed to your still-soaked chest. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so sorry…” she cries.

“Sorry for what, Cora? Please…”

Her arms tighten around you as her mouth finds your neck. “Please don’t make me say it… I can’t stay away from you…”

You slump with defeat, but the wet kisses she’s started to lay onto your throat begin to cloud your judgment. “Please say it, baby. Just be honest with me for fucking once…”

Her teeth bite into your ear lobe making you hiss, and she leans into you, pressing her core right against you. God damn her. It isn’t fair, all the times you’ve let her get the best of you, using you and manipulating your feelings. She knows all your weaknesses, and your most prominent one is her. Your eyes peep open through the tears, seeing the palms still blowing sideways in the wind. It’s going to pour at any second.

Her hand snakes its way between you as she takes your already hardening dick in her palm, not caring if anyone is even around to see. Fuck her and her ability to melt you into putty every single fucking time. “Cora…” you grit as she squeezes you in her hand. “Tell me you still want me…”

“I think it’s pretty fucking obvious, isn’t it baby?” she laughs through a sob. “I want you, I’ve always wanted you.”

You can’t stop yourself from grabbing her face forcefully in your hands, pressing her tear-soaked lips to yours in a fiery and wanting kiss. Her nails grip into your back, raking across it and back over your stomach as she continues to squeeze your still-covered cock. Your mind is racing with thoughts, but what’s fucking new? Here we go again…

Raindrops begin to patter on your head and on the hood of her car as loud thunder rumbles in the distance. You kiss her hard, just like you always do after some time apart. She’s delicious in every sense of the word, her skin still glowing from the sunscreen oil she applied to her shoulders earlier in the day. The sand still caked on her long blonde strands, the taste of the lime still sour on her tongue. Everything about her, delectable and addictive, and once again, you can feel yourself dancing with the devil.

“This is such a fucking grey area, Cora. I hate when you do this to me…” you mumble as you break away, the rain falling harder, now.

“Let me make you happy, Sammy, please. That’s all I ever want,” she pleads, kneading you in her hand.

You grip her shoulder, turning her to put her back against her car door, switching places completely. You push her back, pinning her against the door. You can feel the sexual tension rising with each passing second as you grit your jaw, wanting nothing more than to devour her right here where you stand. “What would make me happy is if you tell me the truth. But that’s not going to fucking happen, is it?” you ask, raking your eyes over her face.

“The truth is that I’m a fucking fool for you, Sam. And I always will be,” she admits, her teeth biting at your lip as the two of you pant into one another, the need growing heavier by the minute. You thrust your hips into her touch, your body begging you do something.

“I don’t think you’re the fool here, Cora.” The rain begins to fall in giant beads, bouncing off the metal car hood as the thunder rips through the sky. “Park across the street and come meet me up in the shower,” you order her as your hand grips her ass, pulling her even closer into you.

“Are you su–”

“Don’t make me think about it,” you say as the rain begins to soak through your shirt. “Just get in the car.”

◇

You know the hot water is going to sober you, and the last thing you need right now is a clear head. You strip the soaked shirt from your limbs before you even make it inside your house, flicking the kitchen light on as you search the cabinet for a glass. You pull the scotch down from the top of the refrigerator, pouring a few fingers as you take a long drink, letting the liquor get you back where you needed to be. This is all so fucked... You feel so fucking weak.

You reach into the freezer and grab the ice tray, popping a few cubes free and dropping them into your drink. You roll your neck on your shoulders as you take a deep breath, making your way upstairs to the bathroom.

You eye yourself in the mirror as you push your hair back from your shoulders, and your reflection meets you with a disapproving look. As the years go on, you notice yourself looking more and more like your father, his pointed features becoming more apparent as you mature toward the age he was when he passed. Your eyes are red, your skin is blotchy, and your expression is way past defeated, knowing that here you are again, about to drunkenly make the same mistake you’ve made time and time again.

You can still feel the scratches she left behind on your skin as you step into the steamy shower, the hot water stinging where her fingernails tore at your skin. The feeling of her hand on you over your shorts, the remnant taste of the lime on her tongue. You’re still so attached and devoted to her, when all she’s ever done is give you quite literally, nothing. You’re the fool.

After a few minutes of standing motionless in the water, you hear your bathroom door creak open, and her footsteps enter the small room.

“S’me,” she mutters, and you kick yourself into gear.

“Get in here,” you demand, your attitude on one hundred as you surprise even yourself. You hear her begin to undress.

The curtain pulls back, revealing her completely nude self as she steps in to join you in the shower. “Hey…” she says meekly as you fill your hand with shampoo.

“Hey.”

You step to the side, letting her get under the water. You watch as chill bumps cover her body as her temperature adjusts, her head falling back to soak her hair as she shudders a little. You watch her perfect tits bob a little as her arms reach back to wet her hair, her nipples hardening as the water rushes over them. Your eyes drift down to her chest, her stomach… her tan lines more apparent now in the dim lighting of the bathroom. Perfect. Always so perfect.

She finally wipes the water from her eyes as she steps out from the streams, and you motion for her to turn around as you put the shampoo from your hand into her hair, beginning to massage it softly into her scalp.

After a few seconds, she finally speaks. “Why’re you so good to me, Sammy? After everything…after me treating you the way that I do…?”

Her words take the breath from your lungs, making you second guess this whole thing. “I think you know why, baby.”

“But I don’t deserve your attention, much less for you to be washing my hair for me.”

You bite back what you want to say, instead channeling your dad and his wisdom. “Sometimes showing your love selflessly to someone who doesn’t even want it means more to them than telling them that you do. You might not remember all the times I told you how much I loved you, but you’ll probably remember me showing it.”

It’s silent for a beat as your fingertips rub into her scalp.

“Loved,” she murmurs.

“What?”

“You said loved. Do you not…”

Ah, fuck.

You swallow hard, unsure how to even answer that question. “I don’t know what you even want to call it anymore, Cora. It’s… a mess, you know?” You level with her. You feel her nod as you turn her to rinse her hair.

As you meet her face again, she avoids your gaze as her eyes jump to the ceiling, blinking away guilty tears. Maybe she’s finally beginning to understand…

“Of course I still feel something for you, I probably always will. We spent years together. Things like that don’t go away in the blink of an eye. But, you mistreated me, Cora. And now you won’t even admit to it. You don’t even want to be civil enough to give me the benefit of knowing the truth. And that tells me… maybe you never even loved me back in the first place.” Your words of admission make her bite both of her lips in, her chin beginning to shake as she fights back the tears again. Her eyes stay trained on the ceiling above you.

“I did, Sammy. I swear I did. I do…” she whispers.

You shake your head as the last of the bubbles fall from her strands. “No. See, no. You can’t love me anymore. You can’t love me and then sneak back into the sheets with someone else. It doesn’t work that way. Don’t you understand that?”

She wipes the water from her face again, her eyes red with disappointment in herself, but you hold steady. “What we had, it was good. It was perfect. I wanted it all with you, Cora. I wanted the flower pots on the porch, the planning dinner while we make breakfast, the surfing from the time the sun comes up until it goes down again. Sharing a home with you, sharing a closet, sharing my deepest fears and all my memories… you were it. It was going to be you from then on out. But you tarnished it. All my trust in you is gone, especially now since you still won’t even give me what I need. I need reciprocation. You don’t bring me happiness anymore. You bring me doubt, and suffering, and bad decisions… So no. You can’t love me. I…I can’t let you.”

She stays silent as your words sink in, the water now steaming up the air between you.

“...Yet here I am in your shower with you. In our old home. That you invited me back to, knowing and going along with the exact reason I came here in the first place…” she shakes her head. “You’re just as helpless as I am, Sammy…”

She steps closer, gently craning her neck to meet your lips again. What started as a peck, a barely-there tap that spoke more words than you needed it to, quickly turns into a rushed and fervent kiss, your tongues dancing and fighting against one another as her hands grip into your damp hair. She’s so completely overwhelming to you. You’re unable to even form thoughts as you feel her lips on yours, so velvety and sweet. Four hands, already gripping and pulling at each other again, her breasts pressed against your chest as they slide over you.

“Tell me, Sammy…” she pulls away. “Do you still crave me? Do you still think about me when you lay down at night?”

Her hand grasps at your hair, pulling it back as she starts in on your throat again. The feeling of her, so addictive and so blinding. Her mouth and tongue gliding against your skin as the hot shower continues to pour over you making you dizzy as that last shot of scotch begins to soak into your bloodstream, giving you just the right amount of confidence to get through this again.

You swallow and bite back a moan at the feeling of her mouth on you. “Of course I do,” you admit, as much as you don’t want to.

“Have you ever had someone fuck you the way I did? The way I do?” she goes on, her lips making their way down your shoulder.

You refuse to answer, knowing that all she’s doing is using her siren song to lure you back to right where she wants you. But the funny part about it all is that you’ve already succumbed to it.

Instead of speaking, you slip your hand between her folds, making her entire body quiver as your finger finds her clit within seconds. She steps her feet apart a little as you pull her wetness up, coating her all over. “God, Sam…” she purrs as her head falls back. You move your hand to let your thumb go to work, wasting no time in letting your fingers enter her completely. Everything happens fast, your sexual pull to her undeniable and unable to be ignored. She cries out, her sounds bouncing off the plexiglass walls of your small shower.

Her hand finds your dick again, stroking it right in time with the circles of your thumb against her. You grit your teeth, sending your middle two fingers even deeper inside of her, flicking your fingers against her most sensitive spot. “Oh my god…” she cries again, her hand gripping hard on your shoulder to hold herself up.

You know how her body works, and you know that she is liable to get off at any second, so you drop to your knees, knowing that you’d do anything in the world to taste her release on your tongue right now. You’re blinded by desire for her, her words from earlier falling completely to the wayside.

You pull her leg over your shoulder while she leans with her back against the wall, her hands ruffling hard into the roots of your hair again. “Baby, fuckkkk…” she wails as you let your tongue dip into her, pressing it as deeply as it will go. The water is falling directly onto your face, and you feel like you might be drowning, but you don’t need air right now. If you’re going to suffocate, you’re going to suffocate just like this.

Her hips jut forward onto your face, rolling slowly as she begins to corner your tongue right where she wants it. If she’s going to try to say she still loves you, you’re going to make her eat her words. You reach one hand behind her, gripping at her ass as you feel her body begin to shake. You knead your fingers into the muscle, pulling her further onto your mouth, flicking your tongue against her clit as you add just the right amount of suction. You pull your hand away, signaling with the two fingers that were just buried inside her to come on, let you have it.

“That what you want baby? Want me to come on your face?” she asks, panting through her words as she pulls your hair incredibly tight.

“Mhmm…” you reply, making sure to vibrate the word directly on her clit.

Her hands hold your head in place as you feel her stomach muscles tighten, and you do all that you can to hold her upright. Finally you feel her letting go, coating your face and tongue as she mutters obscenities into the thick air. Her hips tremble in your hold, but the taste of her is immaculate, the sight of her letting go for you forever being burned into your brain.

You hate it. You hate this.

With one final pull of your tongue across her, you stand back up, taking her tits in your hands as you delve your face onto her collarbone, sucking hard at the skin purposefully leaving behind a bright pink cherry hickey. “There. See if Cameron notices that tomorrow,” you jerk, knowing that it will piss her off.

“Fuck off, Sam. Are you fucking serious?” she bites as her words come through a little more heated than the blissful expression her face gives.

“Yeah, I’m fucking serious. Now, do you want me to fuck you in here, or on the bed?” you ask, pressing a hand to her stomach to push her against the wall again.

“I–I…”

“No, none of that. Tell me what you want,” you reply with a little bit of a slur, watching as her eyes glint with surprise.

“Fine,” she breathes. “Both.”

“Both? Fuck, baby. You’d think after how the night has gone you’d ask for the bare minimum, but. God, pulling more out of me than I even bargained for. Just like always, huh?”

You know you’re being a jackass, but you really don’t care. If you’re only fucking her for the sake of it, and she isn’t going to give you the truth you’ve been searching for, might as well do it up, right?

“Spoiled. Always so fucking spoiled,” you bite again.

“Sam…”

“Shh. Stop talking. Turn around. The only word I want to hear is my name leaving your mouth,” you demand.

She does what you ask as she turns around and faces the wall, pressing her cheek up against it as you pat between her thighs, having her step apart a bit as you take yourself in your hand, pumping a few times before lining up with her. You take a second to pull her hair to the side, sucking her skin into your mouth again as you finally push yourself into her. The angle isn’t the best, but you make it work, bending your knees a little to press into her as far as you can.

“Motherfuck, baby…” she coos as you thrust further inside, savoring the feeling of her wetness coating you once again.

“Hmm-mm. My name, baby,” you say as she begins to arch her back a little, leaning away from the wall to give you deeper access. Her right hand comes back to pull at her own asscheek, stretching the skin as she cuts her eyes at you.

“S-Sam…mmy…” she utters as you begin to furiously pound into her, the muscles of her ass like shockwaves across water.

“There it is, baby, that’s all I wanna hear…” you grunt as you gather up the hair that’s splayed down her back, picking it up into your hand and wrapping it around your fist.

You use it as leverage to arch her back further as you let your other hand slap across her ass, the sound of the smack startling her into a fit of needing moans. “Fuck, Cor… you feel so fucking good...just like always…” you say as your hips continue into her, messy and slick as the water continues to make everything a soaked mess.

You swear you could do this for the rest of forever, but even through the thickness of the air around you, and through the clouds clogging up your inebriated mind, something about sex with her suddenly feels different. Even in the heat of teetering on the edge of an orgasm, you feel like the earth has shifted, a giant crevice metaphorically forming in the ground between the two of you, separating you by what felt like miles.

Something is off. No, not off. Gone.

Completely just… gone. Just like that.

You look down at the gorgeous body of the only one who has ever made your heart beat fast, and suddenly you see her just as she is– a woman.

A woman who has lied to you, cheated on you, tested your patience and made you question your every move. Manipulated you, used you in every sense of the word. And though she told you tonight that she still loves you, could you even trust her enough for it to be the truth?

This isn’t what you want. This isn’t even close to the happiness you know you deserve. Scotty is right. He’s always been right.

But as your body and human instinct begin to defeat the thoughts rushing your mind, you shift gears, pulling her hair up to meet her ear with your mouth.

“You said both, right?”

You pull yourself out of her, hearing her cry out at the loss of contact. You reach behind you and turn the water off, reaching outside of the curtain to grab two towels. You toss one to her and dry yourself off a little with the other, quickly running it through your hair as you rip the curtain open. “Hurry up, go get on the bed.”

She gives you a side glance as she squeezes the water from her hair, stepping out and into the bedroom. You follow her, your bodies still dripping wet and red from the heat of the water. If you’re going to do this for what you’re deciding is going to be the last time, you’re going to do it right.

“I said on the bed,” you bite as you watch her hesitate. “This used to be your house, why are you being shy?”

“I… I don’t know, you’ve never really acted like this before, just… I picked out this comforter, and you still have it…”

You stand for a second as the flashes of lightning fill the room, the sound of the rain absolutely pounding on your metal roof. You shrug, unknowing of what else to really say. “I mean, why would I get another comforter?”

She shrugs again as she sits down on the bed, slowly inching herself backwards as you watch her hair drip onto the sage green material she once was in love with.

“Look, Cora, you came here to hook up, right? Are we gonna finish up, or what?” your tone surprises you, you don’t even really know who you are right now. And she’s right, you’ve never really acted like this before. But in all honesty, this is the very first time ever that you feel like getting yours, so she can leave. And never come back. You’re washing your hands of this bullshit. The rose-colored glasses are being thrown into the fire, and you don’t even care to stick around and watch them melt.

“Yeah, Sammy. Come here… show me what I’ve been missing,” she says with a pull of her pointer finger.

You damn near roll her eyes at her. What she’s been missing? Is she fucking serious?

You shake your head and scoff, kneeling down to crawl across the messy bed covers when an idea pops into your head.

Love, huh?

You can make love…

You lean down, pressing slow, sweet kisses to the insides of her thighs as you move from there to her still-dripping cunt again. You let your tongue ghost over it again, making her shiver at the contact that you’d so graciously blessed her with earlier. “You cold, babe? Want to get under the covers?”

She nods her head, and you pull the puffy green cover over the two of you, instantly warming the chilled air around you. “That better?” you ask, trying to throw on the charm.

You kiss all over her body, gently running your tongue over the places you know will make her shiver and squirm, paying special attention to take your time. Your hands rub into her as your tongue drifts, making your way up her body slowly as the thunder rolls in the background. You make your way up to kiss her, letting your lips dance passionately across hers as you feel her body beginning to want more from you. She cranes up, her hips jutting as you can tell she’s getting antsy. Her hands finally wrap around your waist, pulling you roughly into her.

“Want you, Sammy…please…” she begs as she breaks away from the kiss.

“Patience, baby… you want me to show you?” you ask, leaving the question open-ended on purpose, the sentiment of love suddenly feeling like poison in your mouth.

She nods hard, wrapping one hand around your neck, and the other around your dick, massaging her hand up and down the shaft as she tickles her fingertips around the head. It makes you shudder, and you feel yourself become impossibly hard in her hand.

You reach down and roll your fingers through her folds again, making sure she’s still where she needs to be. “So wet for me, baby… always so soaked. You think about me sometimes, huh? Think about me and get all excited…make yourself get like this…” you breathe into her ear, your voice just a whisper as you taunt her.

“Yes, baby. Always, all the time… miss you so bad…” she says, but you hear no ounce of honesty in her tone. None.

Finally, her hand guides you to her opening, and you press forward again, filling her slowly at this new angle as her head shoots backward into the pillow, her mouth gaping open as you enter her, inch by delicious inch. You grit your teeth as you watch her face in awe, her doe eyes finally coming down to meet yours as you hit the hilt.

“Baby, god, please…” she groans, pulling hard at your hips. Watching her already falling apart like this is exactly what you want. You begin to slowly fuck into her, rolling your hips deviously slow as you rock into her, paying special attention to take this slowly again.

You back up, pulling her knees up to her chest and holding them there as you roll your hips into her again, hitting her at another impossibly deep angle, low and slow. “Jesus Sam… you’re so fucking good, baby… please keep going…” her moans are pleading and her eyes flit open and closed; you can tell she’s absolutely enjoying every single second of this.

You’re enjoying it, too, but that crevice in the ground is only becoming wider, sending you further and further away from feeling any type of connection with her. Suddenly you’re on another planet completely.

You let her legs fall to the sides again as you go back to missionary, resting either elbow on the sides of her head, putting you face to face again. You take her in a kiss again, licking your tongue into her mouth as you let it quiet her whimpers.

“Like this baby? This how you like it?” you ask, rolling your hips with even more passionate force.

“Mhmm.. yeah… just like this… just me and you…” she pleads, taking her tits into her hands as her breath picks up.

You lean back again and cross one of her legs diagonally between you, hitting her from the side now. Her hands grip into the sheets as you hear the wetness between your skin smacking together, her breathing picking up significantly. “Oh my godddd, what the fuck…” she cries, her body absolutely falling apart for you. But still, you hold strong, not letting any emotion at all come through. And to your continued surprise, it's fairly easy.

“Roll to your belly,” you demand, and you pull out just long enough for her to do so. You enter her again, and she stays flattened against the mattress. You maneuver her legs so that they’re closed together, making her feel ten times tighter than she did before. You fall against her back, letting your body weight do most of the work as you continue quick thrusts, now.

After a few minutes, you watch as her hands grip into the comforter again, holding on for dear life as she whines, turning her head sideways to look at you. For the first time in your life with her, you see love in her eyes, but not the kind that you yearned for so heavily. Not the kind that was going to give you everlong happiness.

“Sammy… I’m close baby…” she says, and you feel her walls fluttering around you. You reach a hand under her, finding her clit again and rolling it under your middle finger, giving her double stimulation as you continue from the back. “Oh my god please, yes…” she cries, and within seconds, her body is silent and shaking as she hits her peak, her breath hitching in her throat as she does so.

You aren’t far behind, the sound of her getting off striking a chord deep within you to carnally follow after her. But you are careful.

You deliver a few especially forced and quick thrusts before pulling all the way out, letting yourself go across her back. You pump yourself with your hand as you make sure you finish all the way, still yet feeling nothing at all for the woman beneath you. Had you finally broken her spell?

You collapse beside her, lying on your back so as not to get the bed too messy. You’re panting and tired, fanning yourself with your hands as you feel the humidity from the storm rolling in through the open windows. After a few seconds of catching your breath, you sit up and go into the bathroom to get her a warm washcloth, returning within seconds to get her cleaned up.

“Thanks, Sammy,” she mutters, her tone very different than it was just a few minutes ago. She rolls over to face you, pulling the thick blankets over her body. You both lie there in silence for a few minutes as you contemplate what to do, now feeling a little clarity from the alcohol leaving your system.

“Why did you… ya know…” she asks shyly.

“What?”

“Why did you pull out?” she asks, taking you by surprise.

“Well, you’re not my girlfriend anymore, so. Think that’s a good reason.” You’re glad you’re able to keep up the careless demeanor that so graciously fell upon you earlier.

She’s stunned silent for a second. “I’m not anybody’s girlfriend, Sam.”

You laugh through your nose, the notion of her answering part of your request only just now coming from her. “Hah, good to know. Fucking two hours late.”

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry before you’ll believe me?” she asks, rolling up to lean on her elbows.

“I guess as many times as you want to say it, I don’t know,” you quip, not really feeling like entertaining this same goddamned conversation for the thousandth time.

“Well,” she says lowly, “I am. And I’ll keep saying it. For as long as it takes.” You bite your tongue before looking into her eyes, her bright green irises staring back at you with absolutely zero emotion. She’s still not telling the truth. She’ll never fucking tell you the truth.

“Yeah, here’s the thing, Cora.” You roll over to lean up on your elbows, too. “You can say you’re sorry a million times, but it doesn’t mean shit when you don’t have the intention of changing your behavior. I’ve begged you to be real with me, and I’ve never gotten it. I haven’t gotten your true self in ages, Cor. I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’ve given you a hundred chances. And the fact that you want to move back here is a little unsettling for me, to be honest. Scotty and I are about to inherit the business, and I swear to god, I can’t have a distraction like you around if I’m going to run this business the way it deserves. I know you’re not being honest with me. I know you, and I feel like I know you even less now. I deserve happiness. I deserve to get what I give, and I know you’re not the person to give it to me. I’m not perfect by any means, but at least I’m willing to listen, and change my ways if I need to. I’m frankly tired of the back and forth, Cor. I’m exhausted. Showing you how much I care for you and then you rushing back to Cameron, it’s not what I want. It’s never gonna be what I want.”

“Why do you always have to bring up Cameron, Sam?!”

You smile, her actions proving exactly what you intended them to.

“Because you becoming defensive when I mentioned him just now instead of becoming defensive of literally all the other shit I just said… really put it into perspective. That’s all I needed to hear.”

“What the fuck do you mean?!” she cries, her voice strangled.

“I mean, you’re practically numb to all the other shit I said until I bring him up. Only then do you try to defend yourself. Only then do you even hint at being truthful with me. I’m fuckin’ done, Cora.”

You begin to stand from the bed, grabbing a t-shirt from the closet and throwing it her way before pulling on a pair of shorts.

“That’s not what I mean, Sam! You know this! Where are you going, are you leaving?” she says in succession.

You run your fingers through your hair, turning back to look at the one who was once the love of your life still naked in your bed, begging you to come back, but all you can feel is the couch downstairs calling your name.

“You can sleep here, I work early tomorrow. Just make sure you lock the door behind you when you leave,” you say as you open your bedroom door, listening as she calls your name from behind you over and over until the sound of the rain drowns her out.

It fucking hurts, it really does. But the rush of relief you get as you make your way down the steps and into your living room is almost enough to knock you over. Finally. Finally… your pull to her no longer feels like a rope wrapped tightly around your hands. Having sex with her just now brought you a disconnect that you’ve never experienced before. No longer did it feel like she was woven into the deepest depths of your soul, but instead she was just a section of your life that you experienced. And now, you’re ready to move past it.

Did that really just fucking happen? Did you finally do it?

You curl up on your cozy couch as you listen to the heavy rain now turn into a drizzle, the orange glow from your salt lamp in the corner making you feel more at home in your house than you ever have. You know you’re about to get the best sleep you’ve ever gotten, dreaming about something other than her haunting your mind. You feel like the whole world is now at your fingertips, ready to be taken advantage of, and lived.

◇

As your bare feet struggle to stand on the wooden bartop, you balance yourself in the center, leaning back to check with Scotty and Marcus.

“How’s that? Is it dead-center?” you ask as you bite a nail between your teeth, a hammer in one hand while you hold on to the ceiling with the other.

“Little to the left! There…there! Perfect!” Marcus yells out as you position the nail in the saltwater-worn wood of the bar. You pound the nail in, and grip the string that’s fastened securely on the back of the old photo frame. You hang it over the nail, making sure the picture is hanging balanced and straight.

You hop backwards down off of the bar, standing back with the other two as you place your hands on your hips. “Damn, that does look good, doesn’t it?” you agree as you look at the photo of you and your dad hanging perfectly over the bar, you about 9 or 10, his hand on your shoulder as you pose with your very first surf board.

“He would have loved it, my man,” Scotty says with a pat to your back. “I never even met him, but I know he would have.”

You nod. “Yeah, thanks for letting me put that up, Marcus. I’ll see it more here than I will at home…” you tease as you join Scotty in your respective bar stools.

“That’s an understatement,” Marcus agrees with a laugh. “You two are here more than I am.”

Cora never came back downstairs that night, nor did you go up to tell her goodbye when you left for work that next morning. She didn’t leave any notes, send you any texts… and when the day came for you and Scotty to sign the paperwork setting you up for the rest of your lives, she was the absolute last person on your mind.

She never came back into town, either. If you had to guess, she probably moved the complete opposite way, much to your delight.

Now, you don’t think of her when you’re out on the water, you don’t think of her when you smell her favorite sunscreen. She’s still a memory, of course, and if she called you today saying she needed you to fix her bike or sell her a new board, you would. But that would be the end of it.

You’ve taught yourself what it means to be loved by yourself, and yourself alone… knowing that at the end of the day, you’re the one that has to comfort yourself to sleep, and no one is going to love you more than you. It’s fucking corny, you know, thinking of life in that way. But it makes sense, and fuck, if it isn’t liberating.

Life’s peaceful air feels different now. Even surfing feels more fulfilling than it ever has. You’re headstrong, you’re confident. You feel like you’ve gained more knowledge and wisdom from owning this business than you ever thought you would, all in part to the memory of your dad, and what would have made him proud.

Even Scotty is proud of you, your best friend on earth. The two of you together are a force, bringing in more money to the company than it had ever seen before. You’d never tell anyone that, though. And you’ll never flaunt it.

You’ll just sit at Donovan’s every night in your bar stool beside the ice machine, laughing with Scotty as you scream Sweet Caroline, and drink anything but scotch.

◇ ◇ ◇

xoxoxo J

@wetkleenex-gvf @britney-gvf @gretas-sweat @josh-iamyour-mama @highway-tuna @bestfriendsallstrungout @jjwasneverhere @gretavanbrie @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @myleftsock @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @jjsooobsessed @ageofcj @starcatcher-jake @capnjaket @cozyjakey @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @stardustjake @dancingcarbon @builtbybrokenbells @gretavangroupie

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thevindicativevordan · 6 days

Note

Since you read all of Ultimate Fantastic Four, what do you think of the series?

Gave me an understanding of why shows like Keeping Up With The Kardashians are popular. Something about following trashy people can be oddly compelling and entertaining. Ellis and Millar’s sections were the strongest of the run, with Carey only getting good towards the end. Ellis spends a lot of time “realistically” explaining how the powers of the Four work, and used that same approach to the Ultimate takes on Doom and the Negative Zone too. Millar in contrast is throwing out cool ideas to see what sticks (zombie F4, everyone gets superpowers, spiders that eat time travelers, Doom pulls a Superior Spider-Man on Reed) and doesn’t particularly care to explain in depth how any of it works. His is the most entertaining section of the UFF and the one where the premise really shines. You get to see the potential of a less squeaky clean F4 in terms of what stories can be told, all of the Four get character focus even if in the case of Sue and Johnny it only makes them more unlikable.

I already talked about Reed but regarding the other three:

Ben is more or less the same as his 616 counterpart. Pissed at Reed for his transformation, angsts over it and is terminally depressed, but when his team or world needs him he brings the clobbering. Thing’s best moments are ironically in the President Thor arc where he has no powers. Scene at that end where he beats the Super Skrull to death for genociding Earth is peak Thing. Ben Grimm rules no matter the reality.

Ultimate Johnny is a moron. A well-meaning moron with a (small) heart of gold to compensate for having no brains to be fair. He has some good moments like clueing Reed in that Sue likes him at the start of the series, and being willing to give up his powers if it means curing Ben as an apology for an incredibly asshole “joke” he plays on Ben earlier. But he remains a shallow fratbro for the entire run, with only the death of his father at the end of the series (thanks to Ultimatum) pushing him towards bettering himself. Bendis’ usage of him in USM is superior to how he’s used in UFF imo.

Another unintentional foreshadowing here that I loved. Sue goes on a mission to Siberia alone after Reed alienated himself from the rest of the team because he was obsessed with shooting the Cube. Sue gets shot down and Johnny blames Reed for it, threatening to burn Reed to death if Sue dies. Follows through on that threat after Reed DOES hurt Sue in Ultimate Doom! Within the arc itself Johnny comes across as an unstable prick, but people probably feel more inclined to side with him knowing what Reed will become. I however saw how you could feasibly make Johnny a bad guy, imagine a world where Sue does die and Johnny is the one to go off the deep end. Can’t see 616 Johnny ever breaking like that, but this guy could have.

Sue… is much, much worse than her 616 counterpart. Most writers, even great ones like Hickman, don’t know what to do with Sue. At best she’s the “mom” and that’s her entire character. She takes care of the kids and nags the rest of the team. Ultimate Sue being unmarried means that they can’t fall back on that so instead they make her whole personality being a woman. Mole Man and Namor are sex pests towards her, she gets kidnapped because one villain wants to use her to resurrect his wife and the other villain wants to steal her powers because she thinks they’re wasted on Sue. Everything about her revolves around the men in her life, even breaking her and Reed up merely leads to a new permanent relationship between her and Ben.

Sue’s biggest fear is becoming her mom, who is a selfish asshole who abandoned the Storm family because she valued her career more than them. Suppose that means she’s attracted to Reed initially because her mommy issues made her think she could get Reed to pick her over science where she failed with her mom. She’s constantly showing off skin to titillate the readership. Arcs focused on her were the worst of the run, and that breakup scene at the end of UFF: Requiem managed to make her shooting down a marriage proposal at her dad’s funeral unsympathetic. All these legit reasons to break Sue and Reed up for good, and they went for the one that makes Sue as unlikable as possible. Yeah how dare Reed not prioritize saving you over saving the planet!

If UFF exists on a spectrum with Reed being morally sketchy even prior to his breakdown, and Ben essentially being the same as his 616 counterpart, Johnny and Sue are right in the middle with Johnny edging towards the heroic side and Sue leaning towards villainy. People have forgotten this but Ultimate Sue had two evil futures where she broke bad. One where she becomes Kang which was Fialkov trying to justify Reed’s transformation into Maker, and the other in a completely forgotten F4/X-Men crossover where she becomes an evil dictator in an alternate future after Johnny gets killed in Ultimatum, with Reed opposing her. God that entire story was a fever dream, on its own it’s mediocre as hell but every goddamn reveal hits ten times harder when you know what’s coming.

Damnit this was a punch straight to the gut. In said future Reed becomes Nihl, no matter what it seems he was destined to emulate one of the Four’s foes. Biggest takeaway from UFF for me is that I could buy Ultimate Reed, Sue, or Johnny breaking bad. All three are shitty people with poor emotional control and narcissistic elements to their personalities. Reed simply had the misfortune to be the one Bendis chose to shove into the deep end.

Ultimate X-Men is the only Ultimate series I haven’t read yet but right now I rate UFF as the weakest of the ones I have. It’s not bad by any means! Actually I quite enjoyed it depending on the arc. Unlike USM and Ultimates however I don’t think UFF does anything better than the mainline FF book. Tellingly that while MCU adaptions of Spider-Man and Avengers borrowed a lot from their Ultimate counterparts, the FF seem to be drawing entirely from 616. UFF works better as a contrast with the mainline rather than as an entry point to the franchise for new readers.

#ultimate fantastic four #ben grimm #johnny storm #sue storm #the thing #invisible woman #human torch #fantastic four

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kandisheek · 1 month

Text

FIC REC WEEK 32 - EPISTOLARY

Last train home by erde (orphan_account)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 10,983 Tags: Post-CA:CW, Pining Steve, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Steve writes letters to Tony that he never sends. By the time he hands them to their rightful owner, Tony has had a brush with death, has retired as a superhero, and now has a small town workshop of his very own. But it's okay, Steve has gone into retirement too.

Reasons why I love it: Aaaaah, the ending of this one is so sweet it makes me want to smother myself with a pillow. I love all of Steve's letters and Tony's retired superhero lifestyle, it feels like a missing part of canon. I adore this one, and I bet you will too, so please go and check it out!

a tweet is worth 140 characters by athletiger, BladeoftheNebula, march_hyde, starksnack

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 7,614 Tags: Coffee Shop AU, Fluff and Crack, Twitter AU

Summary: From tumblr: "Ok but imagine it’s Steve on a date with a guy like this and Tony’s watching from across the coffee shop, live tweeting it!! And then Steve finds out that Tony Stark was tweeting about his terrible date and responds to the thread like “next time feel free to step in and save me!” And Tony’s like “next time you should just date me” and whoops, a twitter romance is born!" Well. It happened.

Reasons why I love it: The formatting in this is so fricking good, it feels like I'm really browsing Twitter. I love the back and forth and Tony live tweeting Steve's terrible date, it's hilarious. And there's just something about Johnny Storm getting roasted by the Avengers that I deeply appreciate. Pun absolutely intended. I love this fic so much, and I bet you will too, so I hope you check it out!

ctrl-alt-deceit by soliloquent

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 17,113 Tags: No Powers AU, Miscommunication, Getting Together

Summary: “Tony, I’ve completed the background check on Steven Rogers, and there’s something big you need to know. Like, massive security-threat level big. I’m sorry, sugar. He’s bad news.” Or: A corporate espionage story told solely through excerpts from CEO Tony Stark’s inbox. Featuring romantic pining, delightful office lunches, sarcastic super-geniuses, intense investigations, revolutionary nanotechnology research, unhinged arch-nemeses, haunting ghosts from the past, and an endearing emoji overload by a witty Peter Parker.

Reasons why I love it: The suspense in this fic is so goddamn good, it kept me on the edge of my seat the entire time! I really love the Knives Out reference here, it definitely got a good chuckle out of me. And Steve is such a sweetheart, I love him so much. This fic is fantastic, and you should definitely read it, if you haven't already!

🙀 ➡ 😻 ➡ 😽 by Anaxandria, BladeoftheNebula

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 5,159 Tags: Fluff and Humor, No Powers AU, Domestic Avengers

Summary: Tony puts up a "Missing Cat" sign and not only 1) gets his cat back, but 2) meets a cute guy named Steve who keeps refusing the reward. A story told in texts, voicemail transcriptions, and, of course, an overuse of emojis.

Reasons why I love it: Aaaah, I love everything about this! The Non-Powered Avengers group chat cleansed my soul, it's so funny. And Steve and Tony's voices especially are so spot on, it feels like I'm really reading their messages. This fic is wonderful, and if you haven't read it yet, then you're definitely missing out!

Collected Letters (1930-1943) by brokentoy, triedunture

Pairing: Steve/Bucky Rating: T Words: 16,654 Tags: PTSD, Roommates, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: The collected private correspondence—unedited, uncensored—of Steven Rogers, later known as Captain America, and his longtime companion, James B. Barnes, spanning the years from childhood to World War II.

Reasons why I love it: This fic just tears at my heartstrings in the most beautiful way. I love how their relationship develops while they're living together, and the glimpses into what their life was like in the 30s and 40s feel so real I can totally believe it's what actually happened in canon. Definitely check this one out if you haven't, it's wonderful!

#marvel #fanfic #a year in fanfic recs #fic rec #fanfic rec #stony #stucky #ficrec #epistolary

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royalsweetteaa · 2 years

Note

This is a sad thought but what about a HC where y/n catches the men crying? How will they respond? :(

NOOOO please this will break my heart but I’m kind of craving some angst so…I guess I want my heart broken. What I’m kind of gathering is they were lowkey trying to ‘hide themselves’ from reader while crying so I’ll write their reactions of being caught as they’re high on sad emotions.

Pairing: cevans characters x gf!reader

Ransom Drysdale

Ransom would turn his face away, hoping you hadn’t noticed anything different about him, but he quickly realizes you had seen him and he would let out a shaky sigh. “Fuck,…you weren’t supposed to see me like this..” He says while chuckling, but it’s forced as he’s just feeling very awkward about the situation, on top of his sadness. He hasn’t shown his vulnerability to anyone since he was a child, so it takes a lot to swallow his pride and accept he has been caught, - though he doesn’t mind as much as expected since it’s only you, his girl, who’s witnessing him in such a vulnerable state. He’d still play off relaxed and carefree to cover up his internal breakdown.

Johnny Storm

Johnny would be like a deer in headlights, and deny he was crying, saying something in the lines of; “-I’m fine! Hahah, I’m not crying, I just…I had something in my eye and…” his voice is choked before he can complete his sentence and he swallows a sob as his fake smile fades, facing with the fact that he had been caught being vulnerable. “Shit…this is embarrassing. I’m not supposed to cry,…I..- I’m a hero for fuck’s sake.” He’ll say, more tears spilling than he can wipe off. He isn’t good at hiding his emotions - just like his excitement and pride, his sadness isn’t easy to cover up when it hits hard.

Steve Rogers

Steve wouldn’t intentionally hide his sorrow away from you. It would be more like he had in a moment of thinking while alone started crying as something bugs him, and if you show up while that happens, he’ll be straight up honest about it. “It’s just one of those days…don’t worry about it, my love. I’ll be…I’ll be fine.” Steve explains reassuringly, not wanting to get into the details yet as he’s letting the tears fall. He doesn’t have a shaky nor hoarse voice, - the tears are the only proof he’s in a sad mood. He’s very composed, but that doesn’t level down his sorrow compared to the others.

Jake Jensen

Jake would be embarrassed if caught while shedding tears but he would be the first one to seek your comfort. First thing he would do when he realizes you’re in his presence is to do a double take before he stands up, slowly walks over to you and hugging you tightly, only if you’ll allow him to. “I’m feeling so fucking down and…fuck, I thought I could contain it but I can’t anymore…” He’ll admit, feeling weak but he knows he’s safe being vulnerable with you.

Bryce Langley

Bryce would be defensive once he realizes he’s caught in a moment of his sorrow, but not in a mean way. “Nothing’s wrong,….I want to be alone.” He would simply say, at loss of other words as he feels another layer of emotion beyond sadness; shame. He doesn’t express his unhappiness much, and he’s usually the one to be so upbeat and make people feel better. So when he’s seen like this even in front of his girlfriend for the first time, it’s as if he feels like he’s failed her of keeping that usual positive persona.

Andy Barber & Ari Levinson

Andy and Ari would respond to you catching them crying somewhat similar. They would first take note of your worried face and they would wipe their faces dry as they respond something in the lines of, “Sorry sweetie, don’t mean to worry you. My thoughts are kind of running at the moment and…well, this is a result of that…”, wanting to reassure you there’s no ‘catastrophe’ going on. They’re aware they don’t cry often, and they can imagine your mind wandering when you catch them in such a state. While they only moments ago were feeling upset about something, their concern is moved over to you, which may be the reason why they don’t find themselves crying much anyway. The times they do cry though is when they feel very vulnerable, but not too vulnerable to hide their feelings away from you.

Bonus: You would of course in response of all these comfort them like the good girlfriend you are, and they would appreciate that very much (some probably not in the heat of the moment *cough cough* Ransom & Bryce *cough cough* but in the end they certainly would)!

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

#cevans characters #chris evans #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen #bryce langley x reader #bryce langley #andy barber x reader #andy barber #chris evans x reader

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dalilacherie · 1 month

Text

[Masterlist]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐧𝐠:

Headcanons:

Hard of Hearing Gf

Imagines:

The Great Greaser Bake-Off

Singing Gale - Storm w/ Fem!Reader

𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

Embarrassing - Soc!Fem!Reader

Cuddle Puddle - Fem!Curtis!Reader

Heartbeat - Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬:

Headcanons:

Soda x Johnny Hcs

Imagines:

We'll Be Alright - Comfort w/ Fem!Reader

Cuddle Puddle - Fem!Curtis!Reader

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

Staying Warm - Darbit

Cuddle Puddle - Fem!Curtis!Reader

𝐃𝐚��𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

Family - Fluff

Feeling Good - Dallas x Tim

It's Not Like That - Male!Reader

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐝𝐞:

Headcanons:

Soda x Johnny Hcs

Angst Hcs

Platonic Johnny/Two-bit

Imagines:

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

𝐓𝐰𝐨-𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬:

Headcanons:

Platonic Johnny/Two-bit

Random Hcs

Fluff/Angst/Modern Hcs

Imagines:

Staying Warm - Darbit

𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐚:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐨𝐧:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧:

Headcanons:

Imagines:

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andydrysdalerogers · 1 year

Text

Sliding Into Home ~ Don't You Know How to Spell Assume?

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, eventual smut, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Take Your Niece to Work Day

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

“This thing is trying to kill me,” Frank grunts, struggling with his bow tie. “Why do they insist on making this shit black tie?”

“Because of the fancy people Frank,” Mary piped in as she lay on his bed, watching.

“Thanks, Nugget, for your insight.”

“What’s insight?”

“Never mind,” Frank muttered.

“It means your opinion,” Scott said as he walked into the room. He reached up to tie the tie for Frank. “You have to explain it to her,” he told Frank. He adjusted and stepped back. “There, perfect.”

“Thanks.” Frank looked in the mirror and turned back to his gang. “How do I look?”

“Like a penguin,” Scott replied and begin to waddle around, mimicking a penguin, making Mary giggle.

“You’re hilarious,” Frank deadpanned. “Why am I so nervous?”

“Because you have a date,” Scott said with sympathy. “Its been five years.”

“Its not a date.”

“Its something. Its spending time with a woman.” Scott pats his shoulder. “And its not Abby.”

Frank arrives at the charity event in the limo, alone. He makes his way through the red carpet, taking photos and speaking with some reporters. The questions are simple, and Frank is somewhat relaxed. As soon as he finished up, he headed into the event. Looking around he spotted Johnny with his date and his sister. Susan was in a sleek navy blue gown that was modest and elegant, allowing her golden blonde hair to shine. The other woman was in a black gown that left little to the imagination. Frank smiled and headed over. “Hey Torch, hey Susie. Sorry,” he glanced at the woman on Johnny’s arm. “Frank Adler,” he offered his hand.

A breathy giggle emerges. “Bethany,” she said.

“Nice to meet you. Susie,” he offered his arm to Susan, who took it. As they walked away, he groaned. “Jesus, is that all Storm wants in a woman?”

Susan stifled a laugh. “Apparently. She’s a makeup artist. I use that term loosely. She works at a makeup store selling make up. And hopefully tit tape since that is all that is holding that dress up.”

Frank snorted a laugh. “Why am I not surprised.” Frank shook his head. “Thanks for doing this, Susie.”

“Its not a problem, Frank. You help me out and I’m returning the favor.”

A two weeks prior... at the coffee shop. “I could always give you guys a tour at JPL. I mean if you want,” Susan offered with a smile. “And that’s my cue for a refill,” Johnny stated, jumping up and heading to the counter. Frank sighed. “Look, Susan, I think you are very nice, but I am not looking for anything serious.” Susan laughed. “I know, I’m not either. But I know you need to keep... umm.. Eager women...” “Jersey Chasers,” he clarified. “Fine, jersey chasers off of you. I can help if you let me. Just as friends. Promise.” She offered her hand. Frank took it and shook it. “Friends. But why?” “Haven't had the guts to tell Johnny that I met someone.” She blushed slightly. “Why? Wouldn’t that be great?” “Twin brothers are protective. And he’s not the typical guy that Johnny wants to see me with.” She rolled her eyes allowing Frank to chuckle. “I get the protective thing. I have a sister, obviously, but she is free to live her own life. Now, if he hurt her, that’s a different story. But fuck what Johnny wants. Does this guy...” “Reed,” she offered. “Is Reed a good guy who likes you for you?” She nodded. “Then be happy. And I meant what I said. Fuck what Johnny thinks.” They shared a laugh as Johnny returned. “So how’s it going?” “Susan agreed to be my, uh, companion I guess is the right word for the benefit.” “Great!” Johnny smiled and wrapped an arm around his sister. “I guess this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

As Frank and Susan walked the floor, another couple arrived at the benefit. Abby and Mike walked hand in hand, greeting the owners of the Dodgers and looked for their table. Her heart sank as the assignments had them sitting with Frank. As she read, her heart plummeted further. He was seated next to a Bethany Carmichael and Susan Storm. Knowing Johnny, he didn’t bring his sister as his date.

“That is an interesting assignment,” Mike commented. He looked at Abby and could see the anguish. “You didn’t asked to be seated with him right?” He grasped her fingers a little tighter.

Two weeks Before, Abby and Mike’s house... “Abby, beautiful, I’m so sorry.” Mike was on his knees groveling as she walked out of the bathroom in the morning. “Baby...” “Don’t touch me.” Abby moved into their bedroom. She was refusing to look in the mirror, afraid of what she would see. Mike followed. “Baby...” “No, I can’t do this...” “Please don’t leave Abby. I am so sorry. It was an accident.” He shed tears and got back on his knees in front of her. “I’m so ashamed of myself. He clutched her around the middle. “Please, I’ll do anything.” Abby sighed. Her heart was conflicted. She knew he had crossed a line, but it wasn’t one he had before. She didn’t want to give up on him. “One more chance Michael. But I swear...” “No, baby, thank you, I promise. It will never happen again.” Abby stayed home that day, letting her face heal. And Mike was loving, so attentive. They never spoke about it again. Frank was never brought up. She kept her promise to avoid the Adlers. It was breaking her heart.

“No,” she shook her head. “I was planning to avoid him as much as possible.” That was a lie. She wanted to see Frank. To see how well he was. Ever since his hug and kiss from the hospital she could not stop thinking of him. After watching Mary, she saw what she had been missing. Frank and Mary were not just an uncle and his niece. They had grown to father and daughter.

Mike guided her to their table. “Hello Johnny, Frank,” Mike said with a saccharine tone.

Frank stiffened at his voice. Susan caught the flinch and patted his leg. Abby caught the movement and frowned. But it was Johnny who broke the silence at the table. “Hi, you’re Mr. Weiss, right?” Mike nodded. “John Storm. This is my date, Bethany and my sister, Susan. Mr. Weiss is with the team’s legal department. And this is Dr. Hernandez, our head team doctor.”

Susan stood and shook hands with the couple. “Susan Storm. It's nice to meet you both.”

“Abigail Hernandez,” Abby said quietly. She assessed Susan and couldn’t find a fault. She was beautiful, elegant, poised. Exactly what she would have wanted for Frank before, when he wasn’t hers. But now, now he wasn’t hers again and it hurt.

Mike was seated next to Bethany and was talking with her, and Abby was seated next to another player and his date. She didn’t say much at the table, keeping her focus on the centerpiece. A laugh broke her out of her concentration. Susan and Frank were laughing at something, and Abby’s heart clenched. “I’m going to the restroom,” she told Mike.

“I’ll join you,” Susan said, standing from the table. She gave Frank’s shoulder a squeeze and walked toward Abby.

Dammit, she thought. She just needed a moment away from perfect Susan with her Frank and... the thought startled her. Frank was no longer hers. She made sure of that when she walked away. And yet, the thought of this woman, this flawless, perfect woman, was able to touch him, to be with him, made her angry.

Dr. Hernandez, are you alight? Susan looked at her face with concern.

Abby snapped out of it. She hadn’t schooled her face like she thought. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind. I’m fine Dr. Storm.” She had heard that she had completed her doctorate at MIT in astrophysics.

“Call me Sue. You seem young for a doctor?”

“I graduated three years early from high school. Frankie, I mean Frank and Mike and I went to the same undergraduate.” Abby looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize who she saw. It was her but the sparkle was gone.

“Wow, impressive. Johnny got his diploma but bolted as soon as he was drafted. I headed east for school. Came back when they had an opening at JPL.”

“That’s...” Abby searched for words, “nice.” She offered a hard smile, not wanting to cause a scene. But her blood boiled. “So, you and Frank.”

“Yeah, he’s been so nice. He’ll make someone very happy.” Sue touched up her lipstick.” But you and Mike are cute together. Engaged long?”

Abby tried to maintain her tone. “A couple of months. We’re gonna start looking for a venue soon.”

“Oh.” Sue was stunned. She had assumed that Abby and Mike had just been playing but no, this was real.

Abby walked out and back to the table, Susan trailing. She could see the tension rising from the table. She went to Mike. “Everything ok?”

“I was just asking how long Frank and Susan had been hooking up.” Mike grinned. “I mean, someone here sent a photo of them together to a tabloid and then more photos from a coffee shop, it looks like, are floating around as well. Frankie boy got overheated at my question. I wondered why.” He showed Abby his phone with the article and the photos. Photos of Frank hugging Susan and then kissing her cheek.

Abby looked at Frank, who was a little pink in the cheeks. She understood; Steve had mentioned it. There had been no one since Abby and now there was Susan. Her heart broke. He found someone better. “I’m just gonna get a drink. Excuse me.” Abby headed to the bar but once she was out of sight, she made it to the lobby. She found a seclude area and sat, numb.

She let him go. She threw him away and yet, it hurt. It hurt so much that he had waited for five years for her to come back and when they met again, well, she is engaged. To his former best friend. A single tear dropped and landed on her hand.

“Cricket?”

Abby turned to see Frank standing at the doorway. “Go away.”

“No, Cricket, you’re crying.”

“Its nothing, just leave me alone.” She turned to move away but Frank stopped her. He pulled her into his arms to hold her in place.

“Abigail, what’s wrong?”

Abby looked up at Frank. He never called her Abigail. “Are you with Susan?”

“What?”

“Is what Mike saying, true? Are you dating Susan?”

Frank looked at her curiously. “Why do you care, Abby? You left me, remember? You’re with Mike.”

Abby lowered her head. “I know.”

“So, tell me, why do you care?”

She kept her head down and just shook it a little. “I just want to make sure she’s good enough,” she lied.

Frank quirked a smile. “Liar. Little lying Cricket. You could never lie to me sweetheart.” He chuckled and grasped her chin to tilt her head up. “Tell me.”

“Because I need to know,” she whispered.

Frank studied her face, seeing the deep sadness and fear of his possible answer. He sighed. “No, Cricket, I’m not dating Susan. She’s my date tonight to keep the jersey chasers away.”

Abby was stunned. “But she’s perfect.”

Frank gave a half smile. “Maybe for her boyfriend, Reed, but not for me. I know what perfect is and I’ll never find it again.”

Abby stared into his eyes, the blue she was still so in love with. “I miss you, Frankie.”

“I miss you too Cricket.” He watched the tear fall from her eye. “Don’t cry, my love,” he whispered. He wiped it away but cupped her cheek. He watched as she melted into his warmth and closed her eyes. “Open them, Cricket.” They opened and watched as he kept studying her before drifting to her lips and back. She nodded and he smiled before leaning forward and pressing his lips to her. She closed them again and gave into the kiss.

It was exactly like she remembered. His lips were soft but demanding, gentle and yet she could feel all of the love poured into it. He slowed to break the kiss but kept his forehead on hers. “Frankie,” she whispered.

“Abby. God, I’ve missed you.” He kissed her again, a little more urgently. Abby moaned and Frank took his chance, slipping his tongue in her mouth, tasting her again for the first time in five years. God, he missed this, he missed her. It went on for a moment before Frank remembered where he was, who he was with. He pulled back, stepping away from her. “Fuck, Cricket, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she shook her head. “It’s my fault.”

“Its never your fault, gorgeous.” He ran his finger through her hair and grasped her at the nape of her neck. “Fuck, you are still so beautiful,” he leaned down and kissed her again.

Abby lost herself. “Don’t leave me Frankie. I – I need you. I want you.”

“I’m yours Cricket. I always have been.” He sighed. “But Mike.”

“Let’s just keep it between us, for now, ok?” She bit her lip. “Maybe see each other when he’s out of town or at work. Just between us.”

“Abby, you’re engaged. Sweetheart, you are with...”

“The wrong man,” she finished. Frank looked at her, shocked. “I want to leave him Frankie. I made a mistake and I want to come... home.”

Home. Fuck that’s all he ever wanted. He cupped her face. “I want you to come home too. But I think we should talk and work things out. You need to break things off. But, yes, we can see each other in private, ok? I love you, Cricket.”

“Oh Frankie, I love you too.” She reached up to kiss him again. This time it was with a smile on both their faces. And an audience watching.

Taglist:

@patzammit @slutforchrisjamalevans @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @jennmurawski13-writes @before-we-get-started @tinkerbelle67 @bunnyforhim

#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #chris evans fanfiction #frank adler #frank adler au #mlb au #dodger au #ofc abigail hernandez #sliding into home #chris evans #mike weiss #johnny storm #baseball au #frank adler smut #slow burn #chris evans au #cliffhanger queen

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dc418writes · 2 years

Text

Dipped in Guilt

✨Pairing✨: firefighter!Curtis Everettxblack!reader (+ a few special guests)

Summary🪄: Tis the season for drama and pain

⚠️: bit of angst, lil fluff, teensy bit of a suggestive content, language (one word though), mention of death and mourning

A/N🎙️: So this is a bit of a sneak peak (in the form of a cute Christmas imagine☺️) to a new story I’ve been thinking about and I hope you guys like it!

*Disclaimer!: although collage is made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP to pictures used as they were all found on Pinterest*

A smile curls along your lips entering the fire station bustling with foster children of all ages. The group of teens and older kids sat on the leather couch focused on their respective characters racing in karts up on the flatscreen. The smaller ones either running around or playing with their toys on the glossy floor.

“Let’s see if we can find your dad, huh Finn?,” you state gently bouncing the quiet one-year-old in your arms. He’s busy being entranced by the hanging lights and other decorations around the pristine and shining station. Drool dripping to his t-shirt while he gnaws on his tiny fingers and occasionally reaches with his free hand towards the twinkling Christmas tree.

“Looking for someone?,” a voice asks making you quickly turn around to the slender man with movie star good looks dressed as an elf.

His charming smile was inviting along with his bright blue eyes gazing down at you - and along your body. You couldn’t help but do the same as his forest green costume left nothing to the imagination when it came to his toned arms and legs.

“Um yea, Curtis actually.”

“Hm, now that can’t be right. You said Curtis, but I know you’re looking for me,” he smirks.

“Uh huh..and who are you?,” you playfully ask.

“Johnny Storm, but everyone calls me Torch.”

“Why Torch?”

“Because everywhere I go, I tend to leave a mark,” he winks causing a bashful curl of your lips as you embarrassingly struggle for your next words.

“Y/N!,” Ari greets in an elf suit of his own that struggles but somehow stays intact over his burly form. His hand claps Johnny on the shoulder before jostling him a bit as if it’s a signal or message only meant for him. “Nice to see you and little man.”

“Hi Ari! Have you seen Curtis around?”

“Towards the back helping pack up gifts. He too is an overgrown elf so you can’t miss him.”

“Oh okay thanks. I guess we’ll see you guys later,” you smile securing Finn’s diaper bag on your shoulder before turning to walk away.

“Call if you need me,” Johnny calls after you with a tilted smile. His shoulder gets another firm squeeze making him painfully groan. “What?!”

“Not her, alright?”

“And why not?”

“That’s Curtis’s nanny, so lay off. For him,” Ari lowly whispers.

“What? Afraid the old man can’t handle some friendly competition?,” Johnny smirks once more puffing his chest. It only makes Ari chuckle though.

“Look Storm, you can have any other woman in this town just not that one. Now I warned you once. Next time it may not be me in your face.”

Boots clicking along the floor, you eventually find Curtis lifting two little girls - one in each arm - to grab two candy canes from the ornately decorated Christmas tree covered in gleaming ornaments. All of them smiling as the girls giggled while being gently placed back down.

“Santa wanted me to make sure you two got those. They’re specially made with extra sugar since he said you’re so sweet.”

“Thank you!,” they cheerily reply before running to join their friends as they squealed about Santa and his helper.

Having his back to you, it’s impossible not to gaze at the muscles in his back moving as he placed donated gifts in a large, Santa-like sack. His biceps and triceps bulging so, you just knew the sleeves would rip soon.

“The ears honestly aren’t a bad look,” you joke making him turn towards you and baby Finn. His expression not exactly what you were expecting though, looking as if you weren’t supposed to be there.

“Y/N..what are you doing here?”

“Jake told us about the toy drive and how the crew’s families always come too for help and support. I thought we’d surprise you and try to contribute.”

“You didn’t have to,” he shortly replies taking the small gift bags from your hand after bending down to kiss his son’s chubby cheek. He eagerly wiggles in response with a wide smile displaying his incoming tooth, making Curtis briefly smile.

“I know, but Finn wanted to see his dad,” you grin kissing his palm that reaches for your hoop earring. “Plus with Santa being here, I figured you guys could take your pictures.”

“What if I didn’t want him to take pictures?” Luckily no one was around to feel how tense the air was becoming. Witness your mood noticeably fall and how foolish you currently felt.

“W-Well you talked about how she wanted it to be a tradition so-,”

“You took it upon yourself to try and set it up, rather than waiting on me - his father - to do so when I wanted it done,” he interrupts in a tone so berating you can feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “You’re the nanny Y/N, not his mother!”

His words hit deeper than you expected, feeling a crack climb down the center of your heart that steals your breath. You knew you weren’t Finn’s mother. You were just trying to help.

“We’ll just go back home then,” you speak barely above a whisper. “S-Sorry if I overstepped.” A squeak of an apology leaves your lips again nearly bumping into Steve trying to escape the station as quickly as you could. And mentally swearing never to come again along the way.

His crystalline blues sympathetically watch you maneuver through the crowd of kids before shifting to his crew mate with hands resting on his hips. “Curtis-,”

“Stay out of it Steve,” he gruffly replies concerned with filling the second sack.

“She doesn’t deserve to be treated like that! And we both know your little attitude isn’t about some dumb picture!”

Turning around, Curtis’s stance is poised for a fight whether started or finished by him. His nostrils flare blowing warm air on Steve - equally frustrated - as the two men stand in each other’s personal space with glares that would have the toughest faltering.

“You don’t want her here because then you have to face your true feelings. No more playing cute inside the safety of your home and pretending it’s something else in public. And what’s even more messed up, is she doesn’t even know that’s the real reason behind all this. Probably thinks you hate her when all she’s trying to do is help you and your son.”

“You don’t know shit Rogers,” Curtis grits.

“You’re wrong Curtis and you know it,” he states before walking off to help with clean up and leaving Curtis with your glossy eyes stuck in his mind.

Everything’s silent and dark when he enters his home. After finishing packing up gifts for each foster home that came, sweeping crumbs, and discarding cups left on tables, he didn’t make it back until a little after nine. He saw you put Finn to bed via the baby monitor linked to his phone before tidying up his toys from the living room and the dishes left in the sink.

The past few weeks, you’d made it a habit to wait up for him - which always had a smile creeping along his face when he was in the confines of his room. It might sound crazy, but it made his house feel like a home again.

Made that hole in his heart a little more bearable knowing someone was waiting for him.

However tonight, you’re body isn’t snuggled under a blanket watching some Hallmark movie. Or reading a book that has your attention in such a stronghold, you get startled realizing he’s standing beside you with an amused grin. You’re more than likely in your room actively avoiding him, and he can’t blame you.

Boots lightly thudding against the carpeted floor, he pauses seeing the light from your lamp glow under your door to the hall. Your faint sniffles making him sigh to himself, wondering if he should just leave you alone and try this again later.

“Y/N,” his knuckles lightly knock against your door, “can we talk?”

At first there’s only silence, which he took as your answer. Again, he couldn’t fault you for your choice.

He was nearly ready to walk away when your door slowly opened to reveal your eyes tinted red - along with the tip of your nose. “She must’ve tried to wash it all away while I was waiting,” he thinks.

“Thought we talked enough at the station,” you reply opening the door wide enough so he could come in.

Maybe he should’ve saved this for the morning, or just stayed on the other side of the door. You standing there in those tiny plaid pajama shorts that fell just below your butt cheeks and called attention to your model-esque legs were only made to distract him. And not to mention your matching white tank that did nothing to conceal your chest and nipples poking through just begging to be kissed, licked, and plucked. He needed to get this out now before he combusts.

“Y/N, I’m-,”

“What did I do to make you hate me so much?,” you ask with more tears threatening to spill over. “Did I say something? O-Or not do something?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then what? Because I’m really trying my best here Curtis.”

“I know you are.” He steps closer shutting the door behind him.

“M-Maybe I shouldn’t have moved in. Or you just need to look in a different-,”

You’re unable to finish your sentence as his palms find your cheeks bringing your mouth to his. His tongue caressing yours and lips moving with so much passion and vigor you can’t help but moan leaning into him more. How were his movements so gentle - his left hand drifting down to grip your hip and somehow twisting your body so you were sat on your vanity - yet making you heat from the inside out? Making you addicted already as your fingers clutched the front of his gray tee not ever wanting to let go.

Wait..no this was wrong. The small part of your brain not clouded by fuzzy haze remembered the words he spat at you. His tone that made you feel like a scolded child. He couldn’t treat you like that then kiss you as if he were a soldier home from war.

You wouldn’t let him play with your emotions or body like that.

“Stop,” you whisper out of breath; pushing away with your hand now pressed to the front of his throat. Your doe-like brown eyes try to search his for some type of answers, but you’re just left confused. “You can’t just come and-,”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathes stealing a peck from your tingling lips. You tried turning your face to dodge his second attempt, but his mouth was like a crimson flame flickering beautifully in the darkness of night. And yours the unfortunate moth unable to turn away. “It’s just..I’m frustrated with myself. I’m still supposed to be mourning. Stay loyal to my wife…but every day I spend with you, that sadness goes away. The obligation to sit and sulk disappears along with the little things about her, like her smell and whether she liked tea or coffee more. It’s all being taken up by you..a-and I don’t mind.”

You wipe the tears from his cheeks and lush beard trying to keep your own at bay. It’s proven difficult, hearing his broken sobs as his head falls to your shoulder whispering apology after apology into your skin. Instinctively, your hand rubs along his back kissing along the top of his head trying to calm his cries. But what more could you say to this man who just confessed his feelings for you that were overshadowed by guilt?

“Would…would it be better if I-?,”

“No, don’t leave,” he sniffs one final time before lifting his head. His right fist on the painted wood while his left hand found the side of your neck with thumb running along your jaw. “Finn needs you. I need you.”

Taglist: @celestianstars @stargirlfics @fumbling-fanfics @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @adoreyouusugar @lovebittenbyevans @royalwriteroftheuniverse @theartisticqueen @chrisevans-world @literaturelove @ivorylei @elrw24 @pono-pura-vida @yinx1 @justile @sunsetfreedom05 @jackiekae @luvingmyships @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @bekinds @maxcullen @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful

#curtis everett x woc!reader #curtis everett au #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett #snowpiercer #Curtis everett x black reader #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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imyourbratzdoll · 3 months

Text

𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔

part 6 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️

summary - demons lingered in the back of your mind, causing you to think you aren't good enough and it doesn't help that steve is ignoring you.

warning - bad thoughts, self-hate, mentions of cheating, angst, barely eating, emotionally drained, feeling like you aren't good enough.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 7

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

What if you and Steve were meant to part ways, only so that you could find each other again. What if you were destined for each other? But instead of being together now, you both needed to grow separately, and soon the two of you would meet again in the coming years when you were both ready.

You didn’t know who you were anymore. You were no longer the person you were before you met Johnny, and you weren’t exactly who you were when you were with him. You felt stuck and horrible. You hadn’t gotten better after the divorce, not even when Steve entered your life.

Somehow, you lit up his darkness and he silenced your mind. Around him, you felt as though you could finally breathe. But why couldn’t you relax?

Your eyes fluttered open as you woke from your slumber and you just laid there, staring up at the ceiling. It had been a few weeks since you bumped into Steve and you wondered if you had done something wrong.

Steve helped you with your bags, placing them on your kitchen counter before he turned and looked around your place with a smile, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets. “You have a nice place, it suits you.” God, why could you two stare at each other and feel so connected, but then so awkward when trying to find something to talk about.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to help me.” You gesture towards the bags before you begin to unpack them, hoping that the cold products haven't warmed too much.

Steve waves you off. “I didn’t mind. Like I said, I wanted to help.” It felt so natural as he began to unpack the other bag, like this was your routine. The two of you moved so gracefully, like a puzzle piece fitting perfectly into its spot as you moved around the kitchen, putting things away.

Once you finished, your eyes locked onto Steve’s as he leant against the counter. “W–Would you like something to drink? Or eat?” You watched his eyes flicker down to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“Water, please.” Did his voice get deeper? You felt like you could drop at any second with how he looked at you. You moved quickly, hands shaking slightly as you filled up a glass before handing it over to him. Steve grabs it gently from you, his fingers brushing against yours and sparks erupt at the touch, causing a soft gasp to escape you. “Thank you.”

You watched him drink, how could such a normal thing look so hot and sinful when he did it? His eyes never left yours, but yours left his when he moved the glass away from his mouth. You watched his tongue flick out as he collected the water that glistened against his lips. This felt so wrong, but so right at the same time.

You blink and clear your throat, quickly moving away from him before you do something you may regret. Steve moves over to the sink, washing the glass for you before putting it away. Your mouth hangs open slightly, not even Johnny did that. You would always have to clean up after him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stop comparing the two!

But they look so alike… You can’t help but think. It was strange.

You shake your head from your thoughts as Steve touches your shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

You hum. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” You felt like you were suffocating, like this was all a dream. If this was a dream, you didn’t want to wake from it. You let out a shuddering breath as you stare into Steve’s eyes, you could see concern swirling around. “I’m okay. I just got lost in my thoughts.”

Steve nods as if he understands, and the weirdest thing was that every thought seemed to disappear as his hand brushed against your hip. Neither of you could deny the pull, and it scared the hell out of you.

You barely knew Steve, and yet you felt so safe with him. You nearly cried as he pulled away, stepping back, his hand now falling to his side. His phone didn’t go off, but he pulled it out. “I have to go, my friend messaged me.” He gestured to his phone, and you felt your heart sink. Maybe it was inevitable, maybe deep down all men really were the same. Be it in friend, brother, father, or lover form. It was a curse that no woman could seem to break. “It was lovely to see you again, and if you ever need me. I’m right across from you.” He gave a smile so fake that you wanted to believe it to be real. And then he left, leaving you to stand there as your thoughts crashed into you.

You blink tiredly from the memory.

Maybe he got scared as well. Maybe he had his own demons, one in the form of an ex. Your chest tightened at the thought of him with someone else, and then you sighed.

He’s not yours, idiot. He never will be, so stop being so pathetic.

You groan, your thoughts have become meaner lately. You slide out of bed and head over to your closet, scratching your head as you stare at your clothes. Your lip turns as you don’t like anything you see, maybe this would be a good time to have a day to yourself. Well, technically everyday now is to yourself because you left your husband after catching him fucking your best friend.

Your nose scrunches as the image of them fucking pops up into your head. They were your own demons that would possibly forever haunt you.

You grab some jeans, a plain black shirt and underwear before heading into your bathroom. As you place your things down onto the bathroom counter, your eyes catch your reflection, and it was like death was staring back at you. It seemed the physical toll had slipped from your attention, you had thought you were doing okay aside from the nasty thoughts. Sure, you didn’t eat as often, but it wasn’t because you were starving yourself. You just hadn’t been as hungry, anytime you would go to eat, those two would pop up into your head and your appetite would disappear.

You stripped before slipping under the water. Now you understood why Steve would avoid you like the plague whenever you bumped into him in the hallway.

You hated this stupid pull that you kept feeling, it was like a constant tugging. It kept trying to pull you in the direction of Steve, like somehow it knew he was close and craved him to be near you. You wished you could grab some scissors and cut the cord that was attaching you to him. Maybe then he could be free of you, free of the burden you seemed to carry.

You shoved your head underwater, wanting these thoughts to disappear. Maybe taking you along with them. You stand under the shower for a bit longer before slowly getting out and drying yourself off. You don’t dare look in the mirror in fear of what you would see. You hurriedly dress yourself and walk out of the room, grabbing your shoes and bag.

As you exit your apartment, you are met with Steve leaving his. Your eyes widen for a split second before you quickly look down and walk away, not caring that you didn’t lock your door. You didn’t want to burden him with your presence. When you’ve made quite a distance between the two of you, you let out a deep sigh.

Was this how it was going to be for you? Forever cursed from love and happiness?

You were going to be okay. You had to be.

Steve watched with a saddened look as you walked away. He knew he was being an arse, he didn’t mean to, really. It was just that anytime he was around you, or thinking about you, he would feel this intense feeling wash over him. Steve had felt those feelings the first time he bumped into you and then the second two years later. He was scared, scared that he may end up hurting you. Of course, he didn’t know he was already doing that.

You walked through the doors of a local second-hand shop, a place you generally enjoyed shopping at. You head straight towards the clothing section, beginning to flick through.

“Wanda! Did I tell you the news about Steve?” Without meaning to, your ears perk up at the name. You knew it could be a possibility that it was another Steve, but subconsciously you listened in.

You had heard that voice before, though. You just didn’t know where from…

“No, what about him?” You pick out a few pieces of clothing as you listen in.

“He finally found someone! He met her once before, but they ran into each other again!” A tug at your heart, even though the person might not be your Steve. “He constantly spoke about her even when he didn’t even know her, now that has doubled. You remember right?”

The other woman hums. “Oh yeah, isn’t that why everyone teases him?”

You round the corner, eyes widening a bit when you spot the woman talking. She was the same one from when you had bumped into Steve the first time. Your heart tugs like crazy because you knew this couldn’t be you, they were talking about. Steve had been ignoring you, so why would he talk about you to his friends?

Natasha looks up as she’s about to reply and you immediately look down, pretending you are looking through the clothes in your arms. You don’t see her nudge the woman next to her, gesturing to you or the fact that they are now approaching until it’s too late.

“Hi. I know you.” You look up surprised. Natasha smiles teasingly. “You’re Steve’s girl!”

You shake your head, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Uh no… I’m not his girl…” You stumble slightly. “I—I know him! But uh, we aren’t…” You gulp, this was painful.

The women smile. “Okay, you aren’t his girl now. But you will be!” Wanda replied, a giant grin on her face. “Oh, sorry! Hi, I’m Wanda!”

“Y/n, and I don’t think so. Steve and I aren’t even friends.” You begin to chew on your bottom lip, needing someone to talk to about this, but you didn’t have any friends… You also didn’t know if you could trust having a friend again. You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling dry.

Natasha’s brows furrow, “Wait, don’t you guys live across from each other?” You nod, “And you don’t talk?” You shake your head.

“Dumbarse” She mutters under her breath, shaking her head. “I’m sorry about Steve. He’s made it sound like you guys were close.” Natasha facepalms. “I am so going to kick his arse when I see him.”

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.” You try to fake a smile, but it feels like they can see through it.

Wanda grins. “Why don’t you join us? We can forget about men and just shop!”

You made it back to your apartment after spending the day with Wanda and Natasha, you hadn’t felt this happy in a while. As you hit the last step, your head lifts and your eyes connect with those beautiful blue ones. You feel your throat dry and your stomach twist.

“Y/n…” You slowly move forward, berating yourself for allowing your heart to feel something for him. You were already so broken, why did you think anyone could love you. Your gaze flickers to the bouquet of flowers in his hands, noticing how they shake slightly. Maybe he had a date and wasn’t expecting you to show as he was leaving.

You continue to walk, hoping to slide past him and into the safety of your home. Even though it felt so lonely inside. Steve reaches out, grasping your arm gently, causing you to stop and look at him. Neither of you can ignore the spark that lights from your touch. Unable to ignore the pull anymore, it felt as though time had stilled as you once again locked eyes.

“I’m sorry… I’ve been an arse.” Steve frowns, all of the negative feelings he’s been feeling have finally come crashing down on him.

You shake your head, giving another one of your fake smiles. “You don’t have to apologise, Steve. It’s not like we were friends or anything, you don’t need to be nice to me.”

His hold on you tightens slightly, Steve wonders who the hell hurt you to make you think that. He stares deeply into your eyes, hoping that you can see he’s telling the truth. “I do. Because I am sorry. You didn’t deserve me ignoring you, especially if you think it has anything to do with you. I was in the wrong, and I’d like to make it up to you if you allow me.”

Another choice for you to make. One where it could go incredibly well or one you would regret forever.

You stare at him for a few seconds, trying to find a sliver of a lie. Your gaze moves down, and you look at the flowers. “I got these for you… I didn’t want to apologise empty–handed.”

And like that, your demons quietened. “I’ve never received flowers before…” His love roared louder than your demons, silencing them.

You looked back up at him and made your choice.

The gravitational pull between you had become stronger, finally feeling like it was ready. It seemed the universe and all the galaxies had a talk and said,

“Yeah, It’s time.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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