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toournextadventure · 5 months ago

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our little secret pt.vi

Summary: Life has a funny way of coming back around. Maybe, for the first time, it's actually going to come back around for the better.

Word Count: 10.9k Warnings: swearing, homophobia, HIV/Aids crisis, religious trauma, excessive smoking Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (Masterlist)

The sun was just starting to rise by the time you finished letting the cattle into the field. Fall was coming in nicely, and the spring calves had more than come into their own by that point. They were rather mischievous at this age. They reminded you of such as they continued to butt their heads into the back of your legs every chance they got.

Adorable little bastards.

The crops surrounding the small gathering of buildings were looking pretty damn good, if you said so yourself. You let your fingers trail over a few peas as you squatted down to look for pests. They were almost ready to harvest. Not too much longer and it would be market season, and with any luck you would have enough harvest to make a little more to put back.

As you stood up, you picked two pods off the vine. One went straight into your mouth. The crunch was superb. Definitely ready. You tossed the other pod to Hank, who was lying in his spot on the porch, more than ready to start sunbathing. He was a useless cowdog, but you’d be damned if you didn’t love him.

“You’re doin’ great, buddy,” you said softly. He continued to crunch on the pea pod as you scratched behind his ear and walked inside.

Based on the noise echoing through the log cabin, everyone was already in the kitchen. Good, you wouldn’t have to chase them down. Not that you had to do that much anymore, everyone had fallen into a rather comfortable rhythm. A schedule, if you will. A routine fit for the veterans you now called your family.

“Thank god,” Jane sighed as you walked through the doorway into the kitchen. “Roy’s burning breakfast.”

“Course he is,” you mumbled.

“I’m not burning anything,” Roy called back. He still stepped aside without protest when you walked up beside him.

“Yet,” you said with a raised brow.

“Morning,” was all he said in reply before walking back to sit at the long kitchen table.

The whole crew was already up and ready to go while you finished saving breakfast. A wonderful array of eggs, bacon, sausage, and… well, whatever they could get out of a can. For some unknown reason - it wasn’t entirely unknown, just unconfirmed - they made it a habit to steal cans from an old military warehouse not too far away. They’d grab whatever they could carry, come back, and barter them amongst each other until their next run.

You weren’t sure why they didn’t just share, considering they all lived in the same place.

“Are you working today?” Greenback asked from where he was sitting on one of the counters.

“Yes,” you said with a nod. You turned and gave him The Look, as they all dubbed it. “Which means I can’t bail you out today. So unless you want to spend the night in jail,” you look back down, “don’t get arrested again.”

“Yes mom,” he mocked. “You don’t have to remind me every day.”

“Sure she does,” Hippie said. Unlike the others, he was waiting patiently for breakfast. “She didn’t remind you last week. Remember what happened?”

There was an awkward silence. You bit your lip to keep from laughing because you certainly remembered. So had your savings, quite frankly. And he was paying you back for it dollar by dollar, so he remembered too.

“I got arrested,” Greenback finally answered, so quietly it was almost inaudible.

“So maybe she does need to tell you,” Hippie said.

“Now listen here-”

-the noise of their argument died out. It was a skill you had learned after only a year of being there. All of them were wild, constantly arguing and occasionally devolving into screaming. Terrifying at first, considering each of them had killed someone at least once in their lives. Now you knew better.

They just needed someone to care.

“Here.”

Out of the corner of your eye, Roy held out a cigarette. You mouthed a silent “thank you” before taking it, waiting patiently for him to flick his lighter open. Smoking was a nasty habit. Yet, when everyone around you imbibed, it was easy enough to fall into it with them. In a strange twist of fate, Camels were preferred over Marlboros. Peculiar.

Disgusting.

“Going to the hospital this morning?” Roy asked.

You nodded and exhaled the ashy smoke. “Wanna go with me?”

He was already shaking his head. “Those are your people, not mine,” he grumbled before leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms.

“Some are vets,” you said, looking at him with a raised brow. “Just cause you don’t claim ‘em don’t mean they’re not yours.”

“Tell that to our old man,” Roy said, all joking aside.

“Yeah, well.” You exhaled the last cloud of smoke before you put the cigarette out on one of the many trays around the house. “I got a few other things I’d rather say to him.”

“You and me both,” he said, patting your shoulder and pushing away from the counter with his hip.

He was doing better, you thought as you told everyone breakfast was finally ready. He was much better. Maybe it had something to do with being around a bunch of other people who understood. Everyone in the compound - or commune, as Hippie called it - except you had been in Vietnam. They knew each other’s struggles and fears. As much as your daddy hated the term, it was everyone’s safe space.

“Hey Preacher, you’ll bail me out if I get arrested tomorrow, right?”

And unfortunately, you were everyone’s Commune Mother. Who would’ve thought?

—---

“Morning, Richard,” you said once you saw the kind doctor behind the desk.

“Good morning, Preacher,” he said with a smile that hid behind his mustache. “I was hoping to see you this morning.”

You smiled to yourself and gripped your bag tighter. Dr. Richard was a sweet man, not too different from Huck. If Huck was closer to your father’s age than yours, that was. His smile wasn’t as crooked, but you supposed some would find it attractive.

Not you. But someone.

“Who do you have for me this mornin’?” You asked, instinctively leaning over the counter.

You weren’t supposed to, you knew it was against policy. Richard had said it was something against patient privacy or something like that. The first few times, just the thought of violating someone’s privacy was enough to send you home. The last thing you wanted to do was read something they didn’t want you to. You knew that better than most.

Now though? Oh, now they could tell you to your face if they wanted you to back off.

The long list of names was almost as recognisable as the Bible itself. You visited a very specific type of patient. A type that had gotten you ostracised your first few months. You knew every single patient that came in, and every single one that Robert - you adamantly refused to call him daddy anymore - condemned to hell. If they were going to hell, you were going with them.

“Here we go,” Richard said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Mr. Baker.”

You leaned further across the table, almost touching foreheads with Richard. Mr. Baker was new, if you remembered correctly. In his 50s, grumpy, determined the world was out to get him. Maybe it was, you knew the feeling. Hell, the world had been out to get you. It wasn’t too far-fetched to believe it might be the same for him.

“He gonna throw anything at me?” You asked as you finally dropped back to the floor.

“He’s been advised not to,” Richard said with a sigh.

“Oh thank the lord, he’s been advised.”

“I’m sure he’ll behave,” he said. His smile was always nice. Kind.

“I’ll go see,” you said. You pushed yourself away from the desk but didn’t get very far before you heard Richard call after you.

“Can I buy you dinner tonight?”

You looked at him for a moment, your head tilted. This wasn’t a new question. In fact, he asked nearly every week, if memory served you right. Part of you wanted to tell him yes, just once. Just once to see if you could change. It would certainly make the world a lot easier to deal with.

It wouldn’t be fair to him.

“I have to work,” you said with a soft smile. He kept getting smaller as you walked backwards.

“How about a drink?” He leaned forward on the desk.

Oh, he was charming. And yet, you still felt nothing but a platonic admiration for him. Nothing you did would “fix” you. If you couldn’t fall for someone who was inarguably a perfect match, with the only issue being he was a man? Nothing would work. And for the life of you, you still couldn’t decide if it was because you were broken?

Or perhaps nothing was wrong with you at all.

“Ask me again next week,” you told him.

“Will you say yes?” He asked as he stood up straight. It was the same old song and dance, week after week. A routine. Comfort.

“No,” you said with a cheeky grin. You managed to see Richard shake his head and smile to himself before you turned around and continued your walk through the hospital halls.

As unusual as it sounded, there was something comforting about the hospital. Yes, it was filled with disease and death and despair. An unfortunate consequence of the times. But with all the time you had spent between the walls, you felt at home. No one judged; they didn’t have the time nor capacity. You felt welcome. Wanted.

Mr. Baker’s door wasn’t hard to find; you knew the layout like the back of your hand. Though you would admit, you didn’t think you had been to that particular room before. Not that it mattered, they were all the same. At least it would be easy enough to find for next time.

You knocked on the door three times, gave it a moment, and walked in.

“Good morning, Mr. Baker, I-”

“-Get out of my fucking room,” he said before you could even close the door. “I don’t want some fucking priest in here.”

Your mouth snapped shut. In your mind, you checked off the boxes as you studied him. Grumpy? Judging by the set of his mouth, check. Older? His balding head of grey hair was a check. Sick? Well, he was in the hospital, so check. Scared?

Check.

“Good thing I’m not a priest,” you said slowly. He could hear perfectly well, but you didn’t want to make him more angry. A skill you had learned rather quickly.

“I can see a bible thumper from a mile away,” he continued. “It’s sticking out of your damn bag.”

Slowly, you looked down. Damn. He was right.

“I’m not a bible thumper, Mr. Baker,” you tried to say.

“If you’re not some priest, what are you?”

“Would you like my name?” You asked.

“I don’t give a fuck what your name is.” He shook his head. “I want to know what you are.”

“What do you want me to be?” You asked as you took a step further into the room.

“You some kinda prostitute or something?” He asked. You finally noticed his thick Yankee accent.

“Is that what you want me to be?” You asked again, taking another step.

He opened and shut his mouth twice before looking away from you. The very first few weeks you had started coming to the hospital, you remembered what everyone had told you. They’re like cornered animals. You had initially taken offense at the sentiment. They were scared, and the staff had the nerve to compare them to animals?

Until you remembered when you were cornered. You had been just as angry, just as scared, and just as vicious. Those first few months alone without the three people you knew would have protected you. Those were the most terrifying months of your life. Each time someone looked at you, fear raced through your veins. Did they know? Would they try to kill you too, just for the crime of existing? Were they angels, coming to personally drag you to hell for the sin of love?

Only once you had someone who cared did you feel any sort of comfort in your skin. Roy and his entire gang would fight heaven and hell for you. They didn’t care who you loved, they just cared that you were safe. That you were loved, unconditionally. It wasn’t a feeling you were accustomed to.

Everyone you visited in the hospital just wanted to be loved, not feared or ridiculed.

You took another step closer.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you said softly. “Just say the word.”

Mr. Baker continued to look out the window. It didn’t feel right to stay if he didn’t want you, and you wouldn’t blame him. You waited a few more seconds in awkward silence before nodding slowly to yourself. He didn’t want you there, and that was okay. You backed up and turned to face the door. It was alright, you could always try again next-

“-you can stay.” You smiled to yourself while still facing the door. “Since you’re already here.”

It was a lovely visit with Mr. Baker. He had been a lawyer, back before the epidemic scandal. Hell, he had been a lawyer less than a week ago. All until he had gotten too sick, and got fired for being gay. He complained about his wife leaving him, but he didn’t seem all that upset by it. You could understand.

“If you’re not a priest,” Mr. Baker said, “why carry that damn book?”

“Cause it used to bring me comfort,” you said as you flipped aimlessly through the Bible. “It’s the last thing I have of home.”

“You get excommunicated?” He asked.

You turned and gave him a sad smile. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Do you feel free yet?”

No. Not entirely, at least. That feeling of guilt that had weighed on you throughout your entire adult life had eased, but you weren’t free. Free would be living with Lorraine, and Beau and Huck. Not a care in the world, just living off together and doing whatever you all wished. Yeah. Yeah, that was freedom.

“Not yet,” you finally answered.

Mr. Baker chuckled humourlessly. “That’s what I thought.”

You didn’t stay much longer. He made you promise to come back next week. Well, he didn’t so much make you promise, it was more like you can come back, if you want. But you had been around enough people to know what that meant, so you said you’d come back.

Without your bible, of course, that was what he emphasised.

“Hey Mama.”

You smiled at the words. “Hey baby.” Quietly, you closed the door behind you. “How are you today?”

Eric smiled back at you. “Better and better each day.”

You both knew it was a lie. From what Richard had patiently described to you, Eric was at most a few months away from dying. No more than a boy at only 19, he was going to die without any of his family around. All because they thought he was gay. Perhaps that was why he had attached himself to you as quickly as he had; there was no time to be picky.

“Come sit with me,” he said as he patted the spot beside him.

Without hesitation, you placed your bag at the end of the bed and crawled in with him. The television was situated directly in front of the bed, on a rolling cart that you often found yourself moving. It was some western, but you couldn’t be bothered to know which one. All knowledge of westerns had been forcibly shoved out of your mind the moment you had been displaced.

If anyone from home would have seen you at that moment, they would have keeled over. Not only were you in bed with a suspected gay boy, but one with AIDS? The devil’s disease? The thought of their disgust alone was enough to warm your soul. You hoped they would find out, and you hoped it killed them.

You wouldn’t bother going to their funerals.

“You bring the goods?” Eric asked.

You were already nodding your head as you leaned forward to grab your bag. “If you tell anyone I got these for you, I’ll never buy them again.”

“My mouth is shut,” he said.

He watched with hungry eyes as you pulled out the contraband. The first was a pack of cigarettes; Lucky Strikes. Eric claimed he liked them for the flavour. You knew it was because his grandfather had smoked them during the second world war. Second was a pack of baseball cards, unopened, directly from the corner store a few blocks away. Rumour had it they carried the best cards around.

Third was a Playboy, which you quickly handed over so you wouldn’t have to touch it anymore.

“Oh, you’re the best,” he mumbled to himself as he ripped open the pack of baseball cards with his teeth. “Bet there’s something special in here.”

“I hope there is,” you said with a barely concealed laugh.

While he pulled the cards out, he handed the pack of smokes to you. As much as you knew better, it had become a nice little routine of yours. You would open the smokes and get one started for both you and him. He would look through the cards and show you the “good ones,” going on about every little detail. Once your cigarettes were nothing more than a filter, you would sit back, enjoy a bit of company, and watch whatever you could find on the television.

“Oh this is amazing, wanna hear about it?” He asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer before starting talking.

You slipped the light cigarette into his mouth while he talked. His enthusiasm was contagious. You had not the slightest idea who he was even talking about, but even you were impressed with the person’s statistics. Not enough to remember any of it, but that didn’t really matter.

Eric carried on, and you just sat there and watched him. He reminded you of Jimmy. Young, eager, excited about the little things. It was good to be young. Good to be excited about things that others would consider silly or inconsequential. Maybe that was why you had such a soft spot for him. You might not have had Jimmy, but you had someone that gave you hope in the world.

It wasn’t enough. But it would do.

“Oh shit,” Eric said in a hushed voice. You looked down to see the Playboy in his hands. “They’ve got Miss Minx in here.”

Your brows pulled together as you looked down at the magazine. Admittedly, you couldn’t have cared less about the issue. Your small window into the world of smut had closed that night Lorraine had left. It didn’t have anything to do with you anymore and, quite frankly, perhaps it was all for the better.

But nothing could have prepared you to see a full print of Maxine in a Playboy.

“She made it,” you whispered to yourself with a small smile. “The crazy bitch made it.”

“What do you mean?” Eric asked. His eyes grew wide as he looked up at you. “Wait, did you know her?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Her and her whole crew.”

“You knew her early stuff?” He asked excitedly. His body turned to face you.

You nodded.

“Like Bobby-Lynne?”

Another nod.

“And Jackson Hole?”

And another.

“And-”

“-Yes, I knew them all,” you interrupted.

You couldn’t hear her name coming from someone else’s lips. It would have been sinful to speak of the woman you would have worshipped day and night. Something about hearing someone else talk about her felt wrong. Blasphemous even. It was better to let sleeping dogs lie.

At least out loud.

“Think you can get me an autograph?” Eric asked, still as enthusiastic as ever. “It can be my, uh,” he exhaled harshly. “What’s it called,” he mumbled. His eyes lit up before he looked at you again. “That Make A Wish thing.”

“Ain’t that for kids with cancer?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m a kid with AIDS, so I think I count.”

“Don’t think it works that way, baby,” you chuckled.

“Just one autograph,” he begged. “I won’t ever shoot up again, I promise.”

“You already can’t shoot up again,” you said not unkindly. “That’s what got you here in the first place.”

“Oh come on, please?”

You sighed and shook your head. You always had been a sucker for big brown eyes.

“I’ll see what I can do,” you said dejectedly.

The rest of the visit went exactly as it always did. Eric talked non stop about everything that crossed his mind, and you listened. From what he had been “forced” to eat last night, to what he was looking forward to you bringing next week. He very much wanted a burger from your bar. You couldn’t argue; it was the most sensible thing he had asked for in months.

“Don’t get in trouble before I come back,” you told him as you walked to the door. It was past time for work.

“I promise on my life,” he said with a smile that showed off the purple lesions on his gums. “Love you, Mama!”

“Love you too, baby,” you called out, shooting him one last smile before leaving the room.

The first tear fell before the door clicked shut.

With a shake of your head, you made your way out of the hospital. Richard gave you a quick goodbye, and you were off to work. It was some sleazy gay bar on the outside of town. You knew better than to try and take a cab out there. If Roy or Jane couldn’t grab you from the hospital, you would just walk the 30 minutes to get there. Safety first.

Unfortunately, it was far too hot for the walk. It was nothing you weren’t used to, but that didn’t make it enjoyable. Sweat was dripping into your eyes and keeping your shirt stuck to your back by the time you finally walked through the doors of the bar. Thankfully you kept a change of clothes in the back.

“Thank god,” Jessie groaned when you came back to the bar in much cleaner clothes. “I was about to panic.”

“Don’t be a dick,” you whispered in his direction as you smiled at the man on the other side of the bar.

“Is your doctor coming in tonight?” He asked with far too much excitement.

“Go serve your drinks, pretty boy,” you told him before turning back around to start working.

There was something surprisingly enjoyable about working at a bar. Or perhaps it was technically called a club, you weren’t entirely sure. Regardless, you loved it. It was freeing in a way. No one expected you to act a certain way, or pretend to be something you weren’t. You could just laugh, have fun, and genuinely thrive.

“Can I buy you that drink now?”

You smiled to yourself before sitting on the other side of the table. Richard had made himself at home - as he usually did when you worked - and was still nursing his singular drink. His usual doctor’s coat had long been abandoned, instead replaced by a flowery shirt and some cargo shorts. Something that made him stick out tremendously among the group of gay men and women.

“Not on my break,” you told him.

“How about a smoke?” He asked, pulling out a fresh pack of Camels out of his shirt pocket. With skilled fingers, he opened it and pulled a single cigarette out.

“Oh, you’re my hero,” you mumbled, leaning forward to wrap your lips around what he had dubbed the “cancer stick.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” he said even as he lit it for you and slid the pack and lighter across the table.

“I stopped caring about that a long time ago, Rich,” you said.

As the patrons continued to mill about and enjoy their night, you sat quietly with Richard. He really was a good man, and a part of you wished you could love him. Hell, he had helped you through a lot, the least you could do was give him the one thing he wanted. If you had any belief that you were capable of it, you would have taken him up on his offer long ago.

But you couldn’t in good conscience marry a man that you couldn’t properly appreciate. It wouldn’t have been fair to him. You had watched Lorraine go down that road with RJ, and it hadn’t gone well. She was miserable, doubtless, he had picked up on it as well, and neither one ended up being happy. That was no way to live.

You put out the smouldering cigarette on the ashtray and immediately lit another. That train of thought was not going to end well. You hadn’t painstakingly forced yourself to keep going just to end up thinking too hard one night at work. No, you simply needed to feel the sticky burn at the back of your throat a few more times.

“Is Roy taking you home tonight?” Richard asked.

You hummed affirmative. “No need to play taxi cab,” you teased.

“Will you be back in the hospital soon?” You nodded again. “The men love you.”

“How ironic,” you said with a humourless laugh. “If we had loved each other to begin with, all our lives would’ve been different.”

“Don’t be cynical,” Richard said. He reached out and placed his hand on top of yours. It was warm. Soft. So very different from Beau’s.

You thought for a second before answering. “What do you want me to be?”

“Don’t start that,” he said, quickly pulling his hand back. You couldn’t help smiling at him. “That trick doesn’t work on me, sweetheart.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you said. Another inhale, another ache in the back of your throat, another satisfying cloud of smoke. “Jessie said I need to quit usin’ humour to cope.”

“He’s not wrong,” Richard said. His voice was soft over the sound of the music playing in the bar. “Do you need to talk about it?”

He really was sweet, you thought. Truly a shame.

“I’m alright, Rich,” you said. “Really.”

“I know, just,” he sighed. “I know we aren’t compatible, but I do care for you.” He, too, had irresistible big brown eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was all entirely too much, and you were still feeling emotional from hanging out with Eric earlier. The last thing you needed was for Richard to get emotional on you. If you were being honest with yourself, you needed him to mind his own business.

“You need to go home,” you said with a smile. It was a poor attempt at teasing. “Jessie works tonight.”

“Oh shit,” Richard mumbled. His back straightened and he looked around frantically. “Yeah, I had better go.”

“You should say yes sometime,” you said as you both stood up from the table. “You’d make his year.”

His eyes got big before he undoubtedly noticed the crinkle by your eyes. “I couldn’t dare lead him on like that.”

“Go home, Rich,” you laughed.

You leaned up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. It was scratchy; he needed to shave again. Roy had told you not to give the man hope, but you weren’t. From the beginning, you had been very clear with him where you stood, and he had never pushed you for a different answer. A kiss on the cheek was nothing more than kindness.

“Get home safe, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

You bid him goodbye and walked back to the bar. If you put all your attention into work, it wouldn’t be long before you closed and you could go home. Tomorrow would be calm until you had to go back to work later that evening. There should be plenty of time to start harvesting crops and getting everyone set up for the next few weeks.

“I’ll get that man to love me one day,” Jessie said. You followed his line of sight to see Richard walking out the door.

“Sorry, Jess,” you said with a shrug, “but I don’t think he’ll budge.”

“Then he can tell me no himself,” he said. “I can wait.”

“You’re gonna get you in trouble one day,” you said as you started preparing a drink for one of the usuals that had just walked in the door.

“So are you,” he said from his spot beside you. “Someone was asking for you while you were with Doctor Handsome.”

You slid the drink across the bar. “And what did you say?”

“We don’t give out that information,” he repeated like he had so many times before. “I know the rules, I’m no amateur.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as you continued working. Who could have come asking for you? Perhaps it was one of the Vets; Jessie didn’t know all of them. Vulture was quite the intimidating character, maybe it had been him. He was the least likely of the crew to remember your work schedule. Yeah, it was probably him.

The rest of the night was reasonably quiet. Those were some of your favourite nights. There were fewer expectations and interactions. You could simply do your job, get paid, and go home. No stress, no need to overthink, nothing. It was wonderful.

Like clockwork, Roy walked into the bar after everyone had left and you were finishing cleaning. He sat down at the bar, resting his arms on the cool wood. Without stopping your movements, you slid the pristine pack of cigarettes over to him, which he swiftly opened and lit.

“How was the hospital?” Roy asked.

You leaned forward so he could place a smoke between your lips. “Same as always,” you said. “Eric’s magazine had Maxine in it.”

An exceptionally tough stain captured your attention. Having something to focus on was nice, you didn’t want to think about seeing Maxine. In fact, you already regretted bringing it up. You knew Roy had liked her too, even though he had only met her once or twice. It wasn’t fair to either one of you for you to have brought it up.

“Well hello, Roy,” Jessie said as he sidled up next to you.

“Hello, Jessie,” Roy said politely. And nothing more than polite.

“You ever going to party with us?” Jessie asked. He was not helping you clean. “I think you would be good for business.”

“It ain’t really my scene,” Roy said with an unsure smile.

“It could be,” Jessie said. The flirt.

You quickly shoved your hand towel into Jessie’s hands. “Think you can finish closin’ on your own?”

Roy took that as his sign to head out, telling Jessie a short “good night” before heading to the truck waiting on the street. You loved Jessie to death, you really did, but he was going to get himself into a world of hurt if he didn’t stop. Roy wasn’t homophobic by any means, but the man still wasn’t consistently stable. He was not the one to play with.

“Quit flirtin’ with my brother,” you hissed as you grabbed your Camels, lighter, and cash tips. “And my doctor.”

“Quit bringing handsome men to the bar,” Jessie called after you. “It’s not fair, you know.”

“Night Jessie,” you shouted. He answered as the doors swung closed behind you.

If there was one thing you could say about Roy’s truck, it was that the interior was as pristine as a farmer’s truck could get. Everything was in its place, and everything had a place. The car lighter was always ready, and he kept one pack each of three different smokes in the center bucket. In the glovebox was his pistol and a few spare rounds in an unmarked cardboard box.

“You didn’t share a cigarette with that boy earlier, did you?” Roy asked once he pulled off onto the main road to get back out to the compound.

“No, Roy, I ain’t stupid,” you huffed. “I lit his, then got my own.”

“Don’t get testy,” he defended quickly, “I just don’t want you gettin’ sick too.”

“Oh I’m fine,” you mumbled more to yourself before looking out the window.

It was because he cared, you reminded yourself. Maybe a bit too much, but he did. Even though you both considered the other Vets your family, you still only had each other. No one understood you like he did, and vice versa. You wouldn’t be who you were without him, and he was protective to a fault.

That did not mean you had to enjoy his line of questioning.

“Make any new friends?” He asked after a bit of awkward silence.

You told him all about Mr. Baker; not that there was much to say yet. He listened intently, nodding along with your tale and mumbling encouragement when appropriate. It was a pretty one-sided conversation, but that didn’t matter. He listened, and you got to say a bit. Hell, he even laughed when you complained that Mr. Baker had called you a priest.

“Hey Roy.” You waited until he grunted for you to continue. “Did you ever think maybe Robert was wrong? With his preachin’?”

He laughed. A big laugh, one that would put anyone else to shame. It caught you off guard and you frowned at him even though he was focused on the road. He didn’t need to be so rude.

“I knew he was wrong the day I was drafted,” he said after calming down. “Why d’you ask?”

You looked down at the pieces of paper you were slowly picking off the pack of Marlboros in your hand.

“I’ve just been thinkin’ about it lately,” you said with a shrug.

“What exactly have you been thinkin’ about?” He probed.

“You think God is ashamed of us?” You asked.

When Roy was silent, your fingers pulled at one of the cigarettes in the pack. Maybe Richard was right, you needed to slow down. But with all the thoughts running through your head day and night, the last thing you were worried about was a smoke. That sounded like a problem for the future, if you ever got to it.

You exhaled smoke before continuing. “Think He saw us and decided it was easier to turn his back?” Roy was silent. “Cause He don’t talk to me anymore.” You turned to face Roy, who was still looking straight ahead. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“You did nothin’ wrong,” he said quickly. If you looked closely, his knuckles were paling from his grip on the wheel.

“Just what I’ve been thinkin’ about,” you said quietly. “Sometimes I feel like I did somethin’ wrong.”

The truck pulled up to the front of the house you shared. The lights were on downstairs and in the kitchen. Hopefully Moose wasn’t drunk again. The last thing you wanted to do was deal with his nonsense so late at night. Honestly, you just wanted to go get in bed and start a new day.

“Guess we should head inside,” you mumbled.

You put the cigarette out on the heel of your boot before putting the now-cool butt in your pocket. Everyone knew better than to leave trash in Roy’s truck. But when you went to open the door, Roy’s arm reached in front of you and pushed down the lock.

“Why’d you do that?” You asked with a small laugh. “We’re already parked.”

Both of his hands stayed on the wheel. He still wasn’t looking at you. You knew the look on his face. It had never led to anything good.

“Remember when we first got here?” He asked quietly.

“What?” You asked. He didn’t move. You sighed and shook your head. “Yeah, I remember.”

“You didn’t get out of bed for two months,” he continued.

“Why are you askin’?”

He exhaled slowly. “I wrote a letter back home not long after we arrived.”

“What?” You asked incredulously.

“I didn’t leave a return address, but I wrote to Ma that we were safe,” he said.

“You never told me that,” you said.

“I didn’t want them to hear from Mr. Dylan first and think badly of you,” he said.

Finally, he turned to face you. He wore a troubled look, one you so often saw when he was having a hard day. It usually accompanied a bit of crying, perhaps some yelling, and a lot of nightmares before that look of his went away. You didn’t like that he had it again.

“A few weeks ago, I got a letter from someone,” he said. “Through the circuit.”

You vaguely remembered him explaining that to you. Some backroot way Vets were talking with each other. A system they had all created with a bunch of different towns. If you sent a letter through the circuit, some way somehow, eventually it would find who it was supposed to. You didn’t question it much since none of your Vets used it.

But only other Vets knew about it.

“Who sent you a letter?” You asked.

Roy looked at you with pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“Roy,” you said, more stern, “who sent it?”

“Jackson.”

You looked back at the house. And the silhouette of someone now standing in the window. Perhaps they were looking out, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. You knew that silhouette. Knew it like the back of your hand; better than that, actually.

With shaking hands, you put another cigarette between your lips. It took far too many tries to start the lighter, and even longer to keep it still long enough to catch a light. The smoke and ash didn’t hurt enough. It didn’t quell whatever was going on inside your chest.

“Unlock the truck, please,” you said softly.

Roy didn’t move.

“Unlock the fuckin’ truck,” you said more forcefully.

The moment you heard the lock click, you threw the door open. Heavy boots hit the hard ground, and you gripped the door handle until you were sure you could stand on your own. The ground tilted beneath you, like a ship on the sea. Back and forth in front of your very eyes. Or maybe it was still.

You started walking away from the house. It would be a decent walk, but that was okay. Long enough for you to clear your head, get a grip on reality, and rest. You knew where to find a warm bed, and no one would do anything to you. Everyone knew not to mess with you, you had friends in high places.

“Where are you goin’?” Roy called out to you.

You took a drag of the cigarette. “I’ll stay the night at Richard’s,” you called back. You sounded pathetic. Weak. Broken.

“You ain’t just walkin’ away-”

“-why not?” You interrupted as you spun on your heels to face him. “Why can’t I just walk away?” He looked at you intensely. “That’s what we did four years ago. Why is this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died,” Roy said quickly. “When I walked in, you were about to be fuckin’ executed.”

“Better than bein’ lynched,” you said. “At least it would’ve been quick.”

“Don't act like you weren't scared.”

“I've been scared every day of my adult life,” you admitted. There was a lump in your throat. “How would you even know how I feel anyway?”

“Because,” he laughed, “none of us are stupid. You're not as good at hidin’ your feelings as you think”

You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, standing taller. “Then how come everyone always saw you as a bigger suicide risk than me?”

You froze.

“Yeah, now you're listening,” he continued. “You think no one talked behind your back? Even Ma would ask me if you were alright, if you and Beau were good.” He shook his head. “Everyone was worried as all get out about you.”

“If y'all were so concerned, you sure knew how to hide it,” you argued.

“What were we gonna do, Y/N?” Roy asked. “Potentially out you to the whole town? You're right, they would've lynched you outside the church.”

“I already told you, I wasn't scared of dyin’,” you said as you walked closer.

“Don't act like you gave up in that church because you weren't scared,” he said harshly. “You gave up to protect Lorraine.” His finger jabbed into your chest harshly. “If you died, no one would've ever known about her and she could've lived happily ever after. You gave up because you love her,” he practically hissed.

You took a step back. The burn of a lit cigarette inched closer to your knuckles. It was a feeling you could live with because at least it was a feeling. A better feeling than whatever Roy’s words had done to you. They were carving out your insides, scraping you off the edges until you wanted to cry and scream and hike into the woods until you couldn’t remember your own name.

“We missed Gramma’s funeral.” You shook your head. “We missed our baby brother’s wedding.” It wasn’t true. “I ain’t lettin’ you miss anything else.”

It was too much. Everything was just too much. What did he mean? Gramma had been in perfect health when you had left. Hell, you all swore she would live forever. And what about Jimmy getting married? Sure, you had expected it sooner or later, but without you?

He got married without you?

“I’ve spent four years workin’ on movin’ on, Roy,” you said. The lump in your throat only grew bigger. “I’ve worked day and night to try and live without her.”

“And look where you are, darlin’,” he said. “You still have nightmares from that damn church. And Jessie told me how many women you’ve turned down.” The cigarette butt fell from your fingers. “Think someone who’s moved on would do that?”

Damn Jessie. Damn him for talking with Roy. Though, he wasn’t wrong. Over the course of working at the bar, more than your fair share of women had asked you to dinner or to buy you a drink. They were all nice, and attractive. But you told them no time and time again because of one flaw that wasn’t their fault.

They weren’t Lorraine.

“You’ve been through some shit,” Roy said softly, and you looked up to meet his eyes. “Don’t go throwin’ away your shot at happiness.”

You wrapped your arms around your body and looked at the house. The silhouette was still in one of the windows of the living room. If you looked closer, you could see the scene you had always wished for. Holding Lorraine close, in a house you called your own, drinking coffee and watching the sunrise. No fears, no shame, just love.

It was what you wanted more than anything.

“I don’t wanna lose her again,” you whispered.

For the first time in a while, Roy smiled at you. “I promise you won’t.”

His hand rested on the small of your back before gently pushing you forward. Right, you needed to move. Okay, you could do that, you could move. All you needed to do was get to the house, right? Get to the house and get the girl. That’s what Jimmy would’ve told you. It’s what Beau and Huck would’ve told you.

Each step closer to the house forced your heart to beat harder and harder. Roy had seemed pretty confident, but what if he was wrong? What if Lorraine was there to officially end it? After all, she had been engaged to RJ. Not happily, but she had been. Without you around, what need would she have to break it off?

Oh, that wasn’t a good train of thought. Not good at all. Maybe you didn’t want to see her again. You didn’t think your heart could handle rejection, not after everything it had already been through. It would be less painful than jumping in front of the train that ran through the outskirts of town.

But what if she said yes?

Now that. That would be worth the risk.

Roy’s footsteps could be heard around the porch. There was a side door that lead to the second half of the house, the one that had originally been its own building. After everyone had knocked the middle wall down to make one house, they had still treated it as separate. That’s where the Vets stayed more often than not.

Which left you alone.

You couldn’t stay outside the door forever. Well, you could. Maybe you should. Would that really be so bad? Just sleep outside for the night, you could go find Hank’s dog house and rest. Moose had built it big enough to fit, well, a moose. Yeah, you could fit, it might be a good idea just to stay in there.

Someone shuffled around inside, and you couldn’t take it. You needed to know if it was her. You needed to know for sure, and you needed to give your heart a break. Whatever the outcome, it would bring some sort of closure. Anything was better than the limbo you had been living in.

The door creaked as you pushed it open. It pierced your heart like the splinters outside. Your palms could not have been more clammy. The floor was solid beneath you. It swayed beneath you, but at least it didn’t feel like it was falling out under your feet. That was always nice.

You faced the door as you closed it. The shuffling behind you - it was in the kitchen - came to an abrupt stop. The wooden door was rough beneath your fingers. If you scratched it, you could flake off the paint. Some scratched paint was the least of everyone’s worries in that house.

Turn around. If you could just turn around, it would be okay. Roy said it would be okay, and you trusted him. He wouldn’t lie to you, not about this. With a sigh, you let your forehead rest against the door. Come on, you just needed to turn around. Right. Something weighed heavy in your stomach. You felt sick.

One slow breath in.

Slow breath out.

A splinter pricked your finger as you pushed yourself back and turned around. You focused on that, looking down at the sliver of wood. Tired fingers picked at it, and you used it as a distraction. Work at the splinter, and get your breathing under control. Once you were ready, you could look up.

But you couldn’t wait. You had waited so long already. Within your chest, your heart was aching. Reaching out for its other half. Scratching at the confines of bones and flesh to escape and relish in its freedom once again. To drown itself in the love that it so desperately desires.

You just needed to look up.

The moment you saw those brown eyes again, you knew it was over. All the pain and suffering and rejection. The fear of being found out, or being ostracised for a love that was no different than anyone else’s. It was over once you locked eyes with her.

She looked tired. The bags underneath her eyes rivaled your own; no small feat. If she had lost weight, you wouldn’t have faulted her. You had certainly lost your fair share. It was difficult to keep yourself well fed when you didn’t see the point in continuing. You knew that well.

Should you say something to her? She was looking at you like it was expected, but what could you possibly say? A simple hello wouldn’t suffice, not after everything you had both been through. Not after you had nearly been killed. What could you say to the woman you loved? What could make up for those years apart? Those years spent denying something serious was taking place within your hearts for the sake of peace?

Turned out, all you had to do was breathe.

One inhale was all it took. Lorraine’s body slammed into you before you could do anything else, knocking all the breath out of you in one fell swoop. Her momentum carried you, and before you could steady yourself, the floor rushed up to meet your back. It should have hurt, should have stolen the breath from your lungs and ached for days to come.

But you didn’t feel anything besides her body against yours. You had forgotten how well she fit in your arms. Like you were supposed to be together, two halves of the same mould. She was warm, and soft, and her heart beat rapidly against your chest. If you listened closely, your heart was in sync with hers. Like it should have been. Like it always had been.

With your back to the floor, she couldn’t properly wrap her arms around you. But you could. Your arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her tighter. Her breath tickled against the hollow at the base of your neck. When you inhaled, she smelled of spring. She always smelled of spring.

“I knew I’d find you again,” Lorraine mumbled against your skin. Her lips were soft.

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all. You just pulled her tighter against you. If you could keep her where she was, it would be impossible for her to disappear. No running off to go on some film shoot, no leaving to save face with RJ. She would stay right there in your arms where she belonged.

Where she was supposed to be.

“Baby?” She whispered. You hummed in acknowledgment. “This is getting uncomfortable.”

An ache shot through your hips when you tried to move. Clearly, she was right. Your girl was always right. But you weren’t going to let her go, not so soon. Instead, you kept your arms wrapped around her and struggled into a sitting position. It was like instinct for her to maneuver herself so she could sit in your lap and rest her head between your collar and jaw.

“They said you and Roy ran off,” Lorraine said softly. Small fingers played with the buttons of your shirt. “First it was a vacation, then he kidnapped you, then y’all were dead.”

A low rumble cleared your throat. “Weren’t no vacation, that’s for sure.”

“Missing the fourth of July gave that away,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into her hair.

“Beau lost his mind,” she continued. “Huck couldn’t even keep him calm.”

“Are they-”

“-they’re still good,” she said quickly. “Just worried about you.”

“And you?”

You knew she cared. God, you knew. But you needed to hear her say it. All your feelings had been put aside day after day because you couldn’t ruin whatever pretend lives you had on display for everyone. She needed to say it, to confirm that yes, she does love you, she did miss you, you weren’t imagining everything.

“Every day, I prayed to find you,” she said softly. “And if that wasn’t possible, then I prayed for God to just kill me.” Her breath tickled your neck. “When every beat of your heart hurts because it longs for something it can’t have, you start to wish for the worst.”

You didn’t have any sort of reply for her. What would you say? If they had all been that concerned without even knowing what had happened that night, you couldn’t in good conscience tell her the truth. I’m sorry you were worried, baby, but we left because I was almost murdered. How would that help anything? Besides, you were more than content to try and forget the whole night anyway.

In your lap, Lorraine shifted until her back was pressed against you and your hands rested in her lap. Naturally, your chin rested on her shoulder as you looked down. Her warm hands played with your own, twisting them this way and that. Gently, of course. It was then you noticed something different, and you rubbed your finger across her bare ring finger.

“I broke it off,” she said.

Hell, she didn’t need to say more. Those four words were enough to have your stomach rolling. Those shackles you had both been bound by were gone. No need to pretend you were nothing more than best friends. Friends. The word left an ashy taste in your mouth. No, you would never be her friend again.

“Was he upset?” You asked.

She was silent for a moment. “I think he saw it comin’.”

“Damn,” you said. “I was hopin’ he was devastated.”

Lorraine laughed. A big laugh. God, it was beautiful. The sound of her laugh warmed your chest from the inside, spreading down to every nerve in your body. Only she could make you feel like that. You had always known it, but this just proved it even further.

“I missed you,” she said softly. Her fingers continued to gently pick at yours. “Missed just bein’ with you.”

“I missed you too,” you answered.

Hesitantly, you turned your head to place a ghost of a kiss on her cheek. If you thought about it for too long, you believed you felt her shiver. It could’ve been a figment of your imagination, but you didn’t think so. She leaned back with what little space she had left, leaving no room between the two of you.

“I think you need a new ring,” you said as you ran your thumb over her ring finger again.

“Buy me dinner first,” Lorraine said without hesitation. Her voice sounded sleepy. “I’m still recovering from a failed engagement, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “I bet you’re devastated.”

“Heartbroken, really,” she said as she turned around, placing her legs on either side of your hips, keeping you trapped. You were done when her arms wrapped themselves around your neck.

“You have my condolences,” you said. Her eyes were mesmerising.

“Thank you.” Her fingers played with the hair on the back of your neck. It tickled. “I think I just need some comfort.”

“Well lucky for you, that’s my job,” you said. “I can bring you all the comfort you need.”

Her smile was contagious. God, it was so pretty. She was so pretty, scars and all. You had missed her, in every way you could imagine. Being able to sit with her, tease, joke, enjoy just being with her? You had missed it all. And when she leaned forward to rest her forehead against yours? You were in heaven.

“I think I just want-”

“-oh shit.”

The voice forced your body to tense up. Lorraine’s hands gripped the back of your shirt tighter before she hid her head in the crook of your neck. Across from where you were sitting, at the bottom of the stairs by the kitchen, was Bull. A monster of a man if ever you saw one.

If you ignored his Garfield sleep shirt.

“Sorry, Mama,” he said with a smirk. “Just came down for a snack.”

Of course he did. Out of everyone, Moose and Bull were the ones who snacked in the middle of the night. None of the other Vets came down. They would wander, sure, but they wouldn’t get the munchies. For Moose, it was from the weed. Bull? Well, he was just a big guy.

“Cookies are in the cupboard,” you said with a gesture of your head.

Lorraine gripped you tighter.

“Chocolate chip?” He asked even though he was already digging for them.

“Shortbread,” you answered.

“Fuck yes,” he mumbled once he found them. “Thanks, Mama.” He froze at the bottom of the stairs and looked back at you. “Night, you two.”

“Night, Bull,” you called back.

The two of you must have been quite the sight to see in the middle of the night. Sitting on the floor, not moving, holding each other like your lives depended on it. Which maybe they did, you couldn’t be sure. It certainly felt like they did. Like Lorraine would disappear if you gave her any sort of space. You had lost her too many times, you wouldn’t risk it again.

“Sorry,” you mumbled into her hair. “The guys get restless.”

“Mama?” She asked. You could feel her smile against your skin.

“Someone’s gotta mother them,” you defended. “It ain’t like they’re grown or nothin’.”

Lorraine giggled. “I like it, it’s cute.”

Your fingers traced every inch of her skin they could find. When they ran out? They trailed under her shirt. Nothing scandalous, you just wanted to touch her. To feel her and confirm that yes, she was with you. She wasn’t gone, she wasn’t someone else’s, she was yours. Only yours. Your girl, your Rainey.

“Don’t they care?” She asked, pulling back to look into your eyes.“About…” she trailed off. You knew who she was talking about.

“No,” you said with a soft smile, “not at all.”

“Can we-” she stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes drifted down.

You stayed silent to give her time to focus on her words. This whole situation was… difficult, to say the least. Disappearing for years, lying to everyone for years before that. The years had flown by, and who knew how many you had left. But you could give her a few more minutes to get her thoughts in order.

“Can we stay here?” She asked, finally looking back up at you. “All of us? Together?”

That was all you had ever wanted to hear. All you had ever desired from the moment you had realised your feelings for her. To be able to be with her forever, in any capacity, as long as you could call her yours. Lorraine was the only one your heart and body and soul yearned for.

And to have your guys with you? The ones who had been with you both through thick and thin, who had supported you even when things were tough? They were as much your loved ones as Lorraine. Your happily ever after included them too, and you knew Lorraine felt the same.

You leaned forward to capture her lips in a kiss. Soft, gentle, slow. But no less passionate. It was a kiss to make up for the years apart. To make up for all the secrecy, and hiding, and shame. A single kiss to confess your devotion to her and her only. It was enough to have your heart beating so fast you swore it would explode.

Even though she chased after you, you pulled away until you could look into her eyes again.

“Buy me dinner first,” you said, repeating what she had told you earlier.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she said with a smile that stretched across her face in the most delectable way.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” you said, leaning forward to give her another kiss. One that held no shame. It tasted of freedom.

“I need to hold you,” she whispered against your lips. “Take me to bed?”

Well that. Now that you could do.

“I’m your Huckleberry.”

—---

The sun was hot on your back, scorching whatever piece of skin it could find. If you didn’t quit soon, you’d be burned to hell and back. And if you were sunburned, you knew there was an entire compound full of people that would make it a point to hit it. A bunch of sorry bastards is what they were.

The joints in your knees ached as you stood up straight and stretched. A pop here or there released some of the tension. Enough, at least, to start walking back to the house. With a towel in hand, you started scrubbing the dirt off your ring. The last thing you wanted was Lorraine to see you had dirtied it all up.

“Your wife is making cookies,” Huck said when you stepped onto the porch. “Something about you havin’ a sweet tooth?”

“Legally she’s yours,” you said with a raised brow that intimidated no one. “And I don’t have a sweet tooth, that’s Tack.”

“Can’t be, he’s out at the barn with Beau,” he said.

He held out a beer, nice and cold, and you took it with a mumbled “thanks.” His lazy ass was in the same spot it had been all day; on the rocking chair beside Hank’s little dog bed. The moment he had seen Hank, you knew it was love. If it had been up to him, the dog would’ve been sleeping in the bed with him and Beau every night.

Beau shut that down real quick.

“Beau and I got competition in two weeks,” Huck said as you quickly sat down on the porch in front of him. “Think we can harvest in time?”

You took a swig of your beer and pulled out the pack of cigarettes from your shirt pocket.

“Probably not,” you said before inhaling the smoke. “But Greenback’s arrest last week means he owes me.” A slow exhale. “We’ll get it done while you’re gone.”

“I think Hippie wanted to travel with us,” he continued. “Said he was curious.”

“He’s been curious for years,” you chuckled. “At least he’s finally askin’ instead of mopin’ while y’all are gone.”

“Be nice to him,” he said. “At least he likes hangin’ around.”

“Course he likes hangin’ around, the four of us do everything for ‘em,” you teased.

Huck laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile with him. “Ain’t that the truth. Where would they be without us?”

“Gettin’ arrested,” Beau said, appearing beside you. Tack was nowhere to be seen.

“Speak of the devil,” Huck mumbled.

“You only show up when we’re gossipin’,” you claimed.

“I heard your wife’s makin’ cookies,” he said. You smiled to yourself and took another drag of your cigarette as Beau fell gracefully into Huck’s lap. You also ignored the sound of him kissing him.

“Know how you only call Beau my husband when he’s in trouble?” You asked, turning back to look at the both of them. “You do the same with Lorraine, so what’d she do now?”

“We just think you should be the one to test her cookies first,” Beau said.

“Make sure she don’t poison any of us, again” Huck continued.

“Y’all better hush before she hears,” you whispered as you reached out to slap one of the four legs that you could reach. You didn’t know who it belonged to, and you didn’t really care.

“Her cobbler the other day poisoned Roy,” Beau claimed. “Said so himself.”

“Roy don’t even like peaches,” you said, “so he’s full of shit.”

“He said he- oh hey, Rainey.”

Beau changed his tune quickly when Lorraine walked out onto the porch. Judging by the look on her face, she had heard the gossip. Damn her and her good hearing. You certainly didn’t have it, you would have been ignorant to everything if it had happened outside the door. And that was just fine by you.

“Jane helped with the cookies,” she defended, “so no one is gettin’ poisoned.”

“Told you it was fine,” you called back to them.

Lorraine sat down beside you and pulled you into a quick kiss. You didn’t think you would ever get used to the feeling. Every time she even looked at you, your stomach twisted and turned into knots in the best way. Let her ring be in sight? Oh god, it drives you crazy. She was your wife. And everyone knew it.

“You goin’ to work tonight?” She asked.

“Nah,” you shook your head. “I’m free till tomorrow night. Why?”

“Max and the crew are comin’ by later,” Lorraine said as she rested her head on your shoulder. “Wanted to make sure we’d be home.”

“Course we will be,” you said as you pressed another kiss to the top of her head. “There’s nowhere better.”

The four of you sat on the porch and continued to look out at the home you had all built. A full barn, trailers, and bales of hay waiting to be moved. Across the way were the fields full of more crops than you could reasonably harvest, but that was alright. You would just prepare better for next year. Out to the left was a field you had claimed as your own. It housed the crosses for all the patients you met at the hospital. In the very front was Eric’s. You kept some Lucky Strikes and a pack of baseball cards by it.

Never in your wildest dreams had you ever imagined you would have everyone together and actually living the lives you had all hoped for. To think, it had all started off messy. Now, you all had lives, and hopes and dreams that you didn’t fear would be squashed just for existing. You could love. You could be loved. Out there in the East coast where your dreams had always led you.

With Lorraine’s fingers intertwined with your own, you exhaled another cloud of smoke and looked out.

There was something relaxing about spending a day outdoors on your and your loved ones’ farm.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine x reader #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

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loucifersbitch · 29 days ago

Note

yay for the follower milestone! For the prompt, can I suggest buddietommy and sleep deprived?

*looks at prompt* yeah, no way i'll be able to only write 11 sentences for this sldkfjslkfjskl

Eddie gets home first, dog-tired after a harrowing shift. They went their entire 24 hours without so much as a 5 minute break between calls. Willing himself to remain conscious, he drops his bag in the bedroom, stripping out of the clothes he'd hastily thrown on before leaving the station. The bed is damn near calling to him, but he knows he smells after the shift he just went through. He makes sure everything gets into the hamper (because otherwise someone will have something to say about it) before heading to the bathroom and starting the shower.

Stepping across the stone floor and under the rain shower head, he moans. The water pressure is heavenly, and for a few minutes he stands still under the spray, water running down his back, his sore muscles soaking in the heat. His eyelids droop with the exhaustion, but he forces them to stay open.

He barely registers the sound of the bathroom door opening, the smell of eggs and bacon and sausage permeating the air before the latch clicks again. Stuck in an almost trance-like state, he wishes he could sleep standing up. Or that the strength to lift his arms to wash his hair would hit him sometime soon.

Large, sure hands wrap around his hips from behind, and he immediately melts into it.

"Hey," Tommy says, his voice low as he kisses Eddie's shoulder. "Rough shift?"

"Mhm," he hums, nodding.

"Yeah, Evan said you guys didn't get a break."

Eddie hums in agreement again. "Where is he, by the way? I thought he was right behind me when I left the station."

"You know him, gotta make sure we eat before passing out for the next twelve hours. He'll be along soon."

Like they summoned him, the bathroom door opens and closes again, Buck joining them almost as soon as he'd entered the room. He plasters himself to Eddie's front, arms reaching around them until he's grabbing Tommy's shoulders.

"Jesus, Buck, why are you so cold?" Eddie asks, looping his arms around Buck's middle.

"'m not cold," Buck grumbles, burying his - very cold - face in Eddie's neck. "You jus' have the water temperature too high."

"Or he spent 10 minutes out in the freezing rain trying to catch Mrs. Petersen's dog for her again," Tommy murmurs.

"Hey, Greg is fast, and she's 74! I was helping. It's called being a good neighbor, Thomas."

"Mhm, and how exactly did you plan to catch him with your bare hands in the pouring rain?"

Eddie snickers at the mental image that springs to mind.

"I was being chivalrous," Buck grumbles again.

"Good thing it's your turn to do laundry," Tommy continues. "I wouldn't want to be the one to get those mud stains out of your jeans and shirt."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and get clean. We're wasting water," Buck says, staying exactly where he is and making it impossible to clean anything.

"Okay," Tommy says with finality, "Eddie first. Evan go sit on the bench."

Eddie can feel Buck beginning to pout where his mouth is buried against his clavicle.

"But I -"

"Now, Evan."

Buck huffs, but listens, sitting on the large wooden bench at the back of the shower.

Tommy begins washing Eddie's hair, and Eddie can't hold back the whimpers and gasps as gentle fingers massage his scalp. Tommy isn't trying to make it sensual, but Eddie is affected nonetheless. He can't help it when one of his partners' hands are in his hair.

Tommy moves methodically - meticulously - like with everything else he does. He has this particular way of caring for Eddie and Buck that makes them feel spoiled and cherished all at once.

When Tommy's done with him, Eddie and Buck trade places, and Eddie watches Tommy give Buck the same caring treatment he'd just received. There's a soft smile on Tommy's face as he works. This is just as much for him as it is for them.

Eddie and Buck both try to wash Tommy's hair for him, but he waves them off. They do manage to talk their way into washing the rest of him. Very meticulously.

The three fluffy towels on the counter hadn't been there when Eddie stepped in the shower, but Tommy always thinks of everything. They towel off, throw on the bare minimum of clothing, and quickly eat the breakfast sandwiches Buck had prepared.

They finally fall into bed, an unidentifiable mass of limbs and muscles, their bodies beyond exhaustion, their soft words turn into quiet snores almost immediately.

#911 abc #the ally the beast and the pretty boy #buddietommy #buddietommy ficlet #jules writes #follower milestone prompts

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stargazedwinchester · 9 months ago

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Womanhood | Dean

Summary: Dean helps to comfort you during your time of the month, without much experience about periods, he tries his best.

This is a little different to the actual request, I hope that’s okay! I’ve tried my best to replicate it though :) Let me know if you want Sam’s/Cas’s version too!

Based off of this request here, thanks!!

Word count: 1,134

Warnings: some swearing, not loads!

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

This morning, you woke up with the most unbearable pain, cramps that felt like your appendix had ruptured. You groan in pain, hoping it would subside soon. You clutch your belly and slowly get out of bed. Your alarm clock flashes 7:39am, and you let your head fall. “I love when I have no sleep,” you mumble to yourself, letting out a huff. Looking behind you, Dean isn’t passed out, snoring so loud it would’ve probably woke you up anyway. You hold your belly and walk out toward the kitchen.

“Morning,” you grumble, and Dean turns around from the stove. His face lit up seeing you at the doorframe, your hair a mess and in one of his spare Star Wars t-shirts and your own pyjama shorts. “Someone’s looking rough.” He jokes, noticing you’re not smiling back. “Aw honey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his smile quickly fading. The smell of breakfast hovers over you, like it’s mocking your morning sickness. “I think I’m coming on my period today…” you say, and Dean turns round to face you, letting the eggs and bacon sizzle quietly on the stove. Toast pings out of the toaster at the same time. “Are you sure you’ll be okay for today’s hunt? If you’re in pain, I’m sure Sammy and I will handle it fine.” He genuinely looks concerned, as if you haven’t had plenty of periods before. It hurt like hell, sure, but you could manage just fine. Along with the fact that periods can make you super emotional and/or angry, you were certain it could come in handy when killing a couple of monsters.

“I’ll be fine Dean, honestly. I want to come with you both.” You smile, leaning over the counter top. Dean nods in agreement. “It’s always fun having you around. If you change your mind just let us know, okay?” He shoots you a quick grin before turning back to the stove, plating up your breakfast. “Where’s Sam?” You question, usually he’s already by the table reading his favourite book or getting ready to go out for his morning jog. “I think he went for a shower, I’m not sure.” Dean spins round and passes you a plate with 2 slices of toast, egg, bacon and hash browns. “Wow, this looks really good, Dean. Thank you.” You smile warmly at him, and he returns the gesture.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Your rapid breathing causes you to hunch over and rest your hands on your thighs, you take a deep breath. “God damn…” you say, looking up at Sam, who’s right in front of you. “What a kill!” You chuckle to yourself, wiping your hair out of your face. You stand up, giving Sam a high-five. “Good job, Y/N. It’s like you don’t need our help.”

“I know, right? I’m just that go-“ “Y/N! Watch out!” Sam cocks his gun and tries to shove you out of the way, a sudden loud bang shocks you as you feel something sharp pierce your skin abruptly. You fall over, Dean rushing to your side. “I’ll cover you, Dean, make sure she’s okay!” Sam quickly checks back at you, noticing blood is pouring out of our calf.

“Fuck. Y/N, are you okay? Does it hurt?” He panics, shuffling over to apply pressure on your leg. He rummages in his pocket for a handkerchief and immediately applies it to your wound, he rushes to whip his belt off and tie it tight enough around your leg to hopefully stop the bleeding. You can practically see the fear in his eyes, and you laugh quietly.

“What’s so funny, huh? Almost dying?” His hands shake, trying to keep the pressure on your leg at all times.

“I’m not gonna die, Dean. It’s just a gunshot. Stop worrying,”

You place your hand on his, and he gazes at you with so much worry. His gorgeous hunter green eyes comfort you, even though he’s feeling the complete opposite. You pull your hand up to his face and caress his cheek, he finally shows some sign of calming down. It’s like his whole body relaxes by just your touch. “I’ve honestly felt worse.” You joke, slowly moving your body to sit up. You wince, feeling cramp in both of your abdomen and your leg. “Help me get up,” you say, and Dean pulls you up, anchoring you from underneath, your arm draped behind his back. “Let’s get you home.” He says, catching his eye on Sam, making his way back inside.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

It had been a few hours since you arrived back at the bunker, you lay across the sofa, clasping your belly as the cramps still hadn't subsided. Your leg, however, had been patched up neatly by Sam, and were given some painkillers for it. It didn't seem to work that well.

"How're you feeling?" Dean pats your foot, walking past the sofa to perch himself on the very little space left on the armrest. "I feel like I've been shot in two different areas," You try to joke, but it only makes Dean glare at you, waiting for a real answer.

"Could you get me some period pads, or tampons, please? Either work," You state, trying to sit up. "Uh, yeah, I can do that. What... size?" Dean looks puzzled, which only makes you smile. "Regular, Dean. Get the ones with wings."

Dean stands up and gathers his thoughts. "Pads with wings. Tampons with wings. Got it. I think." He places his hands on his hips and looks to the ground, then to you. He smiles lovingly. "I'll be right back." He says, before grabbing his flannel and exiting the door.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

An hour or so had gone by, and you hadn't moved from the sofa. your cramps have worsened to the point of also giving you a headache. You hear the door open, then close. Dean's back from the store, and he's got a white carrier bag full of items. "I'm back," He chuckles, "Got you a few things." He walks up to the sofa, laying the bag on the coffee table next to you. "Oh, Dean, you didn't have to..." You trail, as he takes out chocolate, a small teddy bear with a t-shirt that reads 'Get Well Soon' with a small red heart underneath it. He had also bought you the pads that you had asked for, aspirin, fresh bandages for your leg and a small bunch of red roses.

Your smile gleamed as your eyes met his. "You really didn't have to." Your voice almost a whisper, and he moves closer to you. "I know, but I wanted to." He smiles, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

"Thank you." You say, reaching your hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him in for one more.

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nalyra-dreaming · 6 months ago

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daniel got the journalist dream in a full archive of information about his subjects. made me giggle when he stopped listening to loumand’s love story to get a look at the files.

since 2x01 i’ve been thinking about who is buying the Bacon triptych, thought it would come back into play and it did. now i can’t shake the feeling an important character will make an introduction in present day through that acquisition, and clearly they’re not alone.

could this be lestat or marius? who knows, but i got this inkling the past coming for loumand.

my heart breaks for claudia. everyone, including louis, is withholding information from her.

she has done so much for louis, helping him survive and now even telling him what happened with bruce and he hasn’t told her about dreamstat. that’s the painful, if not also abusive(?) side of their relationship. he takes but doesn’t give back in equal measure. he loves her but not enough to save her.

The lawyer in the video call says "the buyer wants it for her husband, she probably googled what questions she should ask".

That could, of course, be a deflection.

If it isn't I do wonder who that buyer will turn out to be, because I agree it will be important.

I do not agree with your assessment of Louis and Claudia.

Claudia can literally see Lestat in Louis' mind if she so chooses, and her behavior (and remarks) towards him make me believe that she can. He does not need to tell her.

And she only told him about Bruce when she was using that experience (and, oh damn, the parallels!!) to form an origin story for the two of them. That was no opening up for them to get closer, she was using what she had experienced (which is her good right, no shade here, but it was not for Louis).

Also... she may have helped him survive, but she also dragged him onto that quest he did not want to go on, he wanted to go home (and back to Lestat). He did not want to kill Lestat in the first place.

And as per your last comment - did we watch the same show? Rewatch the sewer scene and then that kiss and the discussion after.

Because Louis is literally throwing himself into that relationship as a bargaining chip on her behalf there (and his own), because Armand almost killed him there (and he even pulled out the promise Armand had made!!) and has said quite plainly that Claudia would not be around for long.

Look at his face there before

and after the kiss

Enthusiasm is something else. And then that little exchange:

"You wanna come upstairs" "Are you inviting me in?" "Depends… are you gonna kill me?"

And then him waiting for Armand:

Look at his face (unfortunately the image itself is very small there).

Look at him. The way he holds his body. Lips pressed together, jaw clenched.

He's sooooooooooo hApPy - not. 💀

It's no wonder AMC did not promote Loumand, honestly, though I had not expected them to go this dark, this soon. Holy shit.

And, btw, this takes another spin onto the "Judas Kiss" painting and actual kiss later - because it ties it with this one, and the promise inherent in it.

Because I think when that little kiss onto Louis' cheek happens Claudia's protection... will be revoked.

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mismefancy · 5 months ago

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I miss Buddy Daddies..

Screw it, I'll make a very long headcanon for it!

So you know how in the anime there is this running joke about Kazuki exaggeratedly crying or squealing anytime Miri does anything adorable or when Rei does something out of character for Kazu? Lol

Miri buying a crepe for him, Rei attempting at making food for Miri's sport's festival, or Miri's reason for picking her two papas during the race, etc. He becomes overdramatic, cartoonishly big crying eyes as he squeals in excitement or absolute awe. Just a proud stage stagemom and it makes you laugh at the wholesome hilarity of it all.

....So what if one time he does the opposite? : )

Let me give you a scenario:

Timeskip to 10 years later. They may have left their life of crime, but Kazuki's dramatic ass still stays intact, lol. He still happily gushes at their small yet meaningful accomplishments, he still dramatically wails anytime Miri or Rei do something nice for him, he's still the same overdramatic king that he is.

And then one random morning, Miri and Rei just want to do something nice for him. Not for his birthday, Christmas, anniversary, heck not even when he's dying from a cold or something. They just want to do something for him because they can.

Again, it's nothing much. It's just a simple breakfast in bed they want to prepare. It's eggs and bacon with a flower in a vase because it's cute. When Kazuki wakes up, both his partner and teenage daughter simply greet him a good morning and present to him a little breakfast they made for him. They anticipate the overreaction he usually does, the dramatic crying or exclaims, but it doesn't happen.

Well the crying happens, but it's not boisterous or loud. Instead it's just Kazuki quietly looking at the meal before him with tears just slowly falling on his cheeks, a face filled with shock yet still so subtle. The two of them are confused, worried. Did they do something wrong? Why is he crying so silently?

Even Kazuki himself wonders why he's crying? He should be happy, or better yet he should all over the place by now. He is happy. So immensely happy of this gesture. And yet, his first reaction was to cry.

Maybe it's because of the simplicity of it all. Everything at this moment was just so domestic to him, he never fully stopped to grasp the idea that this is their whole life now: Working in their very own diner with a daughter he grew to love and a partner who he learns to trust over the past 13 years they knew each other. They were a family. He never thought he could have a family. He never thought he would be given another chance to even have one again. He thought his late wife and unborn child would be the last experience of normalcy and love he could ever experience again.

And yet here he was with that chance, and he would be damned fool to let go of that chance, to cherish this new life. He quietly thanks Miri for making his life so much livelier, he thanks Rei for never giving up on them when he himself nearly did, he thanks them both for filling his heart with so much unimaginable amounts of love and care.

And so he looks at the two worried individuals before him, and he gives them a soft smile through his tears. He whispers to them that he loves their surprise. He loves them.

Miri does not hesitate to throw herself into his arms, softly giggling as she does it. Rei's not too far behind as he sits down by his side, leaning his body towards him as he wraps an arm around his shoulders, just like how he usually does it to Rei. Kazuki holds them close in his arms and in his heart.

Rei and Miri share the same look; The reaction was unexpected, but they call it a mission accomplish anyways.

...Anyways I love them-

#buddy daddies #kazuki kurusu #kazuki papa #rei suwa #rei papa #kazurei #miri unasaka

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resi4skz · 6 months ago

Text

Title: Mi Amore (oneshot)

Pairing: nonidol!Chan x Grace (OC)

Warnings: swearing in italian, smut

This is for @gracebang143 (i cannot tag her in it, stupid tumblr)

!! MINORS DNI !!

"Ugh, for the last time, Steph!" I exclaim as I put ice in the blender, chatter of customers in the background. "Olivia is my cousin and he's her boyfriend!"

"So?" She says and turns at the till, smiling at the customer. "Thank you for choosing Stat Lost, have a nice day!" She turns to me as she closes the register. "Look, we both know what of a person Olivia is. She's probably moved on to the ne-"

The sound of the small hanging bell on the door cuts her off. We both look at the front door at the same time to see my cousin, Olivia and her boyfriend, Chris.

Or Chan, as I like to call him. He was dressed in a black shirt and blue jeans, topped off with a black cap.

Gosh.

Why did he have to be so damn attractive?

Olivia walks over to a vacant table as Chan approaches me. I put on the biggest smile, as if he isn't my regular. "Hey, you're back."

"Yeah," he replies, taking out his wallet. "She'll have a macchiato with a cheese scone and I'll have a-"

"BLT with extra bacon and a watermelon lemonade?" I finish his sentence.

His eyes light up, giving me a small smile. "Yeah. Wow. You even remember customers orders?"

Only yours, is what I wanted to say. "Sort of. Since you're a regular here so I took the liberty of memorizing your order."

"Wow."

I tap on the computer screen taking his order and scan his card before giving it back. "Your order will be with you shortly."

"Thanks."

When I turn around, Stephanie is looking at me with a smirk on her face. Rolling my eyes, I start on his sandwich. Just gotta get through it. You can do it, Grace.

Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain on my finger. "Cazzo!" I glance down and see a small cut on my finger. Great, just I need. Quickly cleaning my hand, I gently wrap my finger in a bandaid.

"Everything alright?"

I jump at the voice before turning around. He needs to stop being so god damn good looking. "Yes. Your order is ready. Give me one moment." I put their order on a tray a d hand it to him. "Thank you for choosing Star Lost, I hope you enjoy your order!"

He chuckles, nodding. "Thank you, Grace."

My heart does that thing again. Oh wait, that's my stomach. I groan when he sits at the table with Olivia. "Have you maybe tried confessing?" Steph asks from behind me.

"What good will that do?"

"Maybe he'll realize what a crappy of girlfriend he has right now and maybe likes you back?"

Hanging my head in defeat, I walks towards the back door. I need a break.

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

But when I come inside, I hear Steph and Olivia in a heated argument.

"What do you mean I can't have a free muffin? It's my cousin's bakery!" Olivia shouted.

"Because if we started giving away free muffins," I state stepping behind the counter and face her, "We'd be out of business. And it's not my bakery. Steph and I are partners."

"You're greedy. Why can't you just say that?"

"Babe, maybe we should-" Chan began.

"No, you stay out of this!" She brushes him off.

The fuck.....did she just tell him off? My blood boils, my nerves lighting on fire. "Olivia, simply just leave before you piss me off anymore."

"What?" She blinks at me. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"You want to know what my problem is? You might need a notepad because the list is long."

"Fuck you," she spat. "I hope this shitty place rots."

"Ah, the words from the famous home wrecker Olivia James," I say.

"Home wrecker?" Chan says as he looks between Olivia and I.

"Chan, don't listen to he-"

But I cut her off. I've had it with her bullshit. "Let me ask you something, Liv. Did you also try to lure him into your trap so he would give you money? Or are you fucking his buddies too like you did with Mr. Stanley?"

Mr. Stanley was our neighbor and his lovely wife, Diana would always bake these pecan pies that was mouth watering. One day, Mr. Stanley came to our house to drop off a pie and Olivia was the only one home. One thing led to another, once Olivia saw he was loaded, she seduced him and ended up sleeping with him. Many, many times. It wasn't until Diana saw them going at it in her home, on the kitchen table because she had gotten off work early.

Safe to say, Diana is divorced and thriving by travelling the world with her friends.

The look on Olivia's face is priceless though. "You...bitch!" She lunges at me from across the counter but I was quick to dodge.

Chan pulls her back and shoves her back before facing her.

Steph elbows me and whispers, "$10 says they break up."

"It all makes sense now."

"Chan, babe. Please listen to me." Olivia pleads. "She's lying."

"No," Chan says firmly. "You're always putting me second. You're always asking to go to expensive restaurants and to think I was spending so much on you. Tell me something," he takes a step towards her, completely towering over her. "Did Jake treat you well?"

"What?"

"Did he tell you to come here with me? Did he also tell you I was also going here?"

"Wha....what are you talking about?"

And then I see a different person come out. A new person who I wanted to know so desperately about. He runs his hand through his curls and smirks. The man actually smriked. "Why do you think I wanted to come here, Olivia?"

"You asked me on a date," Olivia replies. "What does this have to do with-"

"I know about you and Jake."

Oh shit. I watch Olivia's face turn into horror as she opens her mouth. "You're the one always yapping about your music all the time. I don't get what the big deal is, you're never going to make it."

I saw red. My blood was boiling. "Fermati!" I march over to Olivia as she blinks at me. "You do not get to judge a person based on their profession. You do not get to make assumptions. YOU do not put negative things in their mind to the point they want to end their lives."

But she rolls her eyes. "Please, you just had a scratch-"

I shove my shirt up on my arm, showing her the long scar going up to my elbow. "Does this look like a scratch to you that YOU caused?"

"What the..." Chan says and looks at Olivia, who's seething in anger. "I though you said she fell."

"She's lying," Olivia replied, her eyes narrowed at me.

"Oh, so you're saying that I magically got a knife and stabbed myself, making a huge line on my arm?"

"You bitch!" Olivia lunges at me but Steph stands in front of me and pushes her back.

"No one is fighting in our cafe, okay?" Steph announces then points at Olivia. "As for you, get out. You're no longer welcomed here."

"What?"

"Better yet, you're black listed from this cafe."

Olivia huffs and stomps her way out of the shop. "You alright?" Steph asks

"Yeah, thanks," I smiled and she gets behind the counter, immediately apologizing to the customers.

"Hey."

I slightly jump at his voice and turn around.

"Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that."

He scoffs. "I'll be fine."

I nod. "Alright, well. I gotta get back to work." I make it two steps when he calls my name.

"Grace."

I turn. "Yeah?"

He looks at me, almost as if he wanted to ask me something. But he just shakes his head. "Nothing. Have a good day at work." And then he's gone.

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

It was Friday and rush hour was just finishing when something catches my eye outside. "Che due coglioni?" I watch as Olivia tries to kiss Chan and he keeps pushing her back.

"Is she for real?" Steph says.

"I've had enough of this," I snap, taking my apron off and walking towards the door. When I open the door, I hear her crying.

"Chan, please. You've gotta believe me," she wails.

"Olivia, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I say.

Chan's eyes flicker towards me, almost lighting up making my heart skip a beat. "This doesn't concern you," Olivia hisses at me.

"Porca miseria, questa cagna!" She blinks at me surprised and I stand in front of her. "This man," I point to Chan, "has been nothing but loving towards you, has given you the time he should've spent elsewhere other than your stupid ass. You," I jab at her chest, "do not have the right to control someone as kind as him. You," I jab at her chest again making her stumble back a step, "do not get to do that to him."

"Grace," I hear Chan say from behind me.

"Do you even realize how hard it is to chase your dreams when no one belives in you? Of course, you don't because all you get to do is use others and degrade them till they have nothing left in them."

"Grace."

"What?!" I snap as I turn around, sniffling. Was I crying? But I don't get to touch my face as I feel a pair of warm hands cup my cheeks. "Cha-"

His lips. Oh my god his lips. My hands stay at my sides because I don't know where to put them. As he lets go, I look up at him. "I've been meaning to do that."

"What?" I blinked, perplexed.

"She's gone," Steph's voice makes us jump apart a step away from each other and she comes to my side. "Jeez, she's like a lizard, always coming in between."

I snort which leads to laughter as she beams at me. "Come inside! I'll make you guys something to drink!"

I watch as she heads inside before turning to him. "So..."

"So."

"What did you mean by what you said earlier?" I asked.

"Look-"

"Why did you kiss me?"

He sighs. "I never liked Olivia. She was just there, I guess to fill that void," he flicks his eyes down at me, "but that void was never filled."

I scoff, not believing what he just said. "So you mean to say, that you dated her-"

"I never da-"

"-just so you could dump her and then coincidentally you thought that a kiss would solve all the problems?"

"Look, Grace-"

"No," I say firmly. "You look here, Chan. I'm not the one to messed around with. And you were the least out of all the people I knew that would do something like this." His eyes widen at my comment and raises his hand but I put my hand up, stopping him. "No. I can't look at you right now."

And with that, I turn around and leave. Steph gives me one look once I'm inside and immediately gives me space as I go back to refilling the ice machine.

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

A few weeks later, I finally had a few days off. I wanted to destress and just chill and relax in my apartment. But what I didn't know was that Chan would be standing at my doorway looking like he had been run over by a truck while I was in a tanktop and pj shorts with a bag of chips on my hand.

"W-what are you doing here?" I asked, clutching the chip bag.

"Can I...can I come in?" His voice trembled.

"Yeah, come in," I stand aside to let him in. As he walks by me, the same vanilla and smoke scent fills my nostrils, making me a bit dizzy.

"Do you want anything to drink? Water? Soda?" I ask, closing the door behind me.

"Water, thanks," he replies taking a seat on my couch.

Fuck. Never in my 22 years of my life, I imagined a man in my living room. Let alone Chan, the 28 year old man that I had been crushing on since I was 19. I hand him the glass of water and sit beside him.

"Nice place."

"Thanks," I replied. After a beat, I say, "So, what brings you here?"

"Olivia paid a visit."

"Oh?"

"And smashed all the windows of my car."

"What?!" I knew she would stoop low but to this level? "Are you okay?"

His eyes flicks up at me. "That's funny."

"Huh? What is?"

"Olivia would've asked if my car was okay. She wouldn't even ask me if I was alright."

"Well, she's a bitch," I huff, crossing my arms.

He snorts. "She did teach me one thing though." He turns his body sonhe's facing me. "To never take what's already in front of you for granted."

Holy fucking greek god. Why does this dude have to be so damn pretty? "You're lucky you're attractive, Chan. Any woman would be happy to have you."

"Look, about the kiss then-"

But I stand up. "I'm going to make some tea." I hurriedly walk into the kitchen and immediately fill the kettle with water. It was a good distraction-

An arm snakes it's way around my waist. I gasp, dropping the kettle in the sink and turn around. "What are you doing?!

"Why do you think I kept coming back to your cafe?"

"Because you like the cakes we make?"

"I came to see you, even on busy days where I could catch a glimpse of you working behind the counter refilling stoxk items. Once, Steph caught me staring at you and made me buy 10 pastries," he explains snorting. "Let's just say my friends got a piece each."

"Why are you-"

"-telling you?" He finishes my sentence. "Because I like you."

"I'm sorry, what?" My ears are deceiving me.

He giggles, poking my cheek. "I like you, Grace. I have for a long time now."

"How long?"

"3 years."

I blink at his answer. "I..I... don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

I look at him. "But you just told me you like me. How do you expect me to not say anything? To say that I like you as well?"

"Grace, you're not obligated to say- wait, what?" Turning his head, he blinks at me.

"What?" I try so hard to not smile.

"You just said you like me."

"No, I didn't," I lied, hiding my smile.

"Grace," his hand comes to cup my face, lifting my head to meet his eyes. "Tell me before I lose my mind."

"What happens if you lose your mind?"

His gaze hardens. "You don't want to know."

I wet my lips, partially opening my mouth. "Maybe I do." I hear him growl before he smashes his lips on mine. This time, neither of us push away. His tongue darts out and I open my mouth. His hand rub my arms, up and down. "Channie," I whimper, heat pooling between my thighs.

"Yeah, baby?" He says, his thumb brushing my lower lip.

"Can we, uhm, can we take this to the bedroom?"

He chuckles as he slides his arms around my ass hoisting me up. "Say less."

He practically sprints into my room and gently lays me down on my bed. His eye catches my blanket, the pink poka dots on the white colored sheet. "What?" I ask.

"Nothing," he shakes his head and takes his shirt off.

My breath hitches in my throat. Holy fuck. I knew he was fit but this.....holy fucking shit. Then his takes his jeans off, leaving a lot for my imagination when I see the buldge in his boxers as he takes those off too.

"Now you."

I sit up and take my tanktop off. My breasts bounce as I had no bra on. "Fuck me, Grace. You're beautiful."

My cheeks heat at the compliment and my arms come up automatically to hide myself but his hand stops me. "Don't hide yourself," he said as he hovers above me. "Fuck, I'm trying so hard to hold myself back."

"Don't," I gulp. "Don't hold yourself back."

"You sure? I don't want to hurt you."

I narrow my eyes and pull him down by his neck. "Channie if you don't fuck me in the next 5 seconds, I'm going to burn your clothes so you'd have to walk back home, butt naked."

"Feisty, damn," he groans as he takes my shorts off leaving. "As much as I would love to taste you, I need to feel you around my cock."

"Please," I whine.

He smashes his lips on me again, this time with desperation as he settles in between my legs. I feel the tip at the enterance of my cunt. "Ready?"

I nod. He lines himself before slowly pushing in. "Oh, shit- you're fucking tight."

I close my eyes, feeling the delicious burn as fully bottoms himself inside. "Mm, Channie. You feel so goo-" I get cut off as he pulls back and slams his hips.

"Yeah, fuck, you cunt feels so good," he pants and grabs my left breast. "And I love these, fuck, perfect."

He sets a fast pace and doesn't stop snapping his hips. He pinches my nipple, causing the familiar knot to form in my lower belly. "Fuck, I feel you clenching. Are you close?"

I moan in response and his thrusts pick up speed. The only sounds resonating in the room was the snap of his hips. "I'm going to cum," I moan. He brings his hand down to my clit, rubbing it with his thumb. And that was all it took for me to go over the edge. "Channie!"

"Oh fuck, milk my cock, baby. Make a mess," he groans as his thrusts become brutal and I'm pretty sure my poor cervix is bruised. "I'm coming, fuck, I'm gonna fill your tight little pussy. You want that? You want me to fill you up and make you mine?"

"Yes, yes! Make me yours, Chan."

"Fuck," he voice becomes strained as veins protrude in his neck and he stills, emptying himself inside me, painting my inner walls.

As we catch our breath, I notice he hasn't pulled out. "What are you doing?" I ask, still out of breath.

He suddenly grabs my thighs as I feel him harden. "Oh my god."

He grins, licking his lips. "Up for round 2, mi amore?"

A/N: this was for @gracebang143 hope you enjoy :)

#bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids bang chan #chris bang #stray kids #bang chan fanfic #skz #bang chan smut #oneshot #fanfic #skz smut #skz fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz bang chan

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jungle-angel · 8 months ago

Text

I'll Kiss Your Hurt Away (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Rhett's had the roughest ride of his life and has to call it quits in the bull riding ring, but one decision leads to new beginnings.

Warnings: Mentions of adoption, parenthood, injuries, hospitals, light smut etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia @kmc1989 @cowboybarbie

"Alright, watch yourself Rhett," you said, guiding him in through the door.

Rhett winced as he moved on his crutches through the door, his leg in a brace and his body bruised beyond all comprehension. His ribs were so sore he could hardly breathe and all he wanted was to be able to lay down.

Amy came waddle running from the kitchen with her blankie and her little circus clown ragdoll in her hand wanting nothing more than for Rhett to pick her up and give her kisses.

"Sweet pea let Daddy get upstairs and lay down," Royal told her from the kitchen.

Rhett hobbled for the stairs where you set to helping him up. Royal threw Rhett's arm across the back of his shoulders and helped him upstairs, giving you an extra hand until you finally reached your shared bedroom where he could lay down.

"Ya'll want anything son?" Royal asked him.

"Grilled cheese with bacon and a Seven-Up," Rhett croaked.

"Roy I can get it, it's alright," you told him.

"Nah don't worry about it (y/n), you've done enough," Royal said.

You curled up beside your husband on the bed, coiling an arm around him but backing off when you noticed the pained grimmace.

"M'sorry sweetheart," he croaked. "Wanna hold you and the baby so fuckin bad but I'm hurtin."

You kissed his lips, letting it linger before you left the room and returned with Amy. You didn't dare release her, knowing she'd crawl all over Rhett.

"Daddy kissy!! Kissy!!" she demanded.

Rhett leaned over a little and gave her a big wet kiss on her cheek, throwing her into a fit of giggles before you left to put her down in her bed for a nap.

He only ate a little throughout the day with your father-in-law popping in every few minutes to see how he was and offering to shoulder most of the parenting duties with Amy. Cecelia called from her mother's place in Casper to check in, informing you that she would be home by next weekend to help, but for now, you and Rhett would take what little time you could to heal.

"Didn't think I'd look this bad," he chuckled as you dabbed his forehead with a cool washcloth.

"I'll say," you said. "You look like a battered grape."

Rhett laughed, wincing as a wave of pain tore through his ribs and took the breath right out of him.

"Where does it hurt?" you asked him. "Show me."

Rhett gave you a playful but exaggerated look, the same way Amy often did when she didn't get what she wanted.

"Come on," you laughed. "Show the nurse where it hurts."

Rhett lifted his shirt up just past his nips, revealing the ugly black and blue spots that had pooled just about everywhere. You giggled a little when he gave you that cheeky grin of his.

"What, you're afraid darlin?" he asked.

You shook your head and kissed the little dip in his chest between his pecs and around his nips, reveling in the little purr that caught in his throat.

"Little lower there darlin."

You wiggled your eyebrows and kissed all the way down his ribcage, your tongue swirling around every little bruise and around his bellybutton, shushing him gently when he got too loud so that nobody would hear if they came into the house. Sure enough, you heard Royal coming in with Amy, the two of you quickly fixing yourselves so that he wouldn't notice.

"Feel any better?" you asked when the two of you had settled into bed for the night.

"Better than the damn pain meds Pete gave me on the way out," Rhett mumbled.

You kissed him before you both drifted off into sleep, happy to be in each other's arms once again.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #amy abbott #outer range

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lil-spider · 1 year ago

Text

So Damn Pretty

Chapter 5

Part 4 : Part 6 :

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: My fav song when writing about Johnny.

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

I rise up groggily and stretch my tender muscles. "Johnny got some stuff from your van for ya'." She places a wooden box of stuff next to me on the bed. Looking in it, I find a collection of hygiene items, including hair brushes, underwear, clothing, and Jessica's beauty bag.

Jessica took it everywhere, even on the camping trip. It's all that I have left of her. "I took a few lipsticks from that bag; they were such pretty reds." Sissy tells me frankly. I’m upset she took them, but I don't want to quarrel with her; it's not worth it. I don’t know what she’s capable of.

"Have a shower, sugar, and meet me downstairs in the kitchen." She caresses my leg and saunters to the door. I wait till she leaves to grab my stuff. I slide the makeup bag underneath the bed, hidden away, so no one else steals from it. I’ll find a better hiding spot for it later.

I grabbed some of my fresh clothes, which include a pair of denim shorts and a yellow knit tank top. I head to the shower after picking up some travel-sized shampoos and conditioners as well as a body wash with a pleasant scent. I'm so eager to get refreshed.

I lock the door behind me as I use the restroom. I take off my dress, put it in a basket of dirty clothes by the door, and get into the hot shower. Scrubbing my body and hair made me feel as though I were trying to erase the previous days and start over.

Rising the soap, I feel much better, finally smelling like my old self. Squeezing all the water out of my hair, I decided not to use the towels, as I doubt they were clean. Uncomfortably, I put my clothes on while damp. Thankfully, it’s a hot day, so I won’t take long to dry.

I go back to my room to grab some old sandals from my box of belongings and walk downstairs. Entering the kitchen, I find Sissy making eggs and bacon for breakfast.

She grins at me. "Oh, pumpkin, you look lovely," she says examining me. "So do you." I respond, noticing she is wearing a short dress with dark red and white polka dots. She gives me another of her gorgeous grins.

"Thank you very much, sugar; this is one of my favourites." She does a little spin, showing the rest of her dress.

We cook breakfast together while conversing, and she tells me about our chores for today.

Repeating what I did yesterday, I prepared the table as Sissy plated the food. As usual, she rings the bell while I take a seat, waiting for the family to arrive. They seem to be normal—except for the killing and eating people—that's not so normal, but other then that they treat each other like every other family.

During breakfast I keep looking at Johnny. Every time I do, I get these butterflies in my stomach. Even though he’s dressed in his typical ensemble of a black shirt and denim pants, he looks so damn fine.

His hair is currently not styled, letting it frame his face. I want to glide my hands over those dark locks of his. Shit, he looks good like that.

I watch him with hungry eyes as he leaves the dining room first, returning to whatever he was doing.

As the others finish, Bubba descends to that dreadful basement. Nubbins was the last person to go as Mr. Sawyer headed out to open the gas station.

Nubbins mumbles something about wanting head cheese next time, and he scatters off up the stairs. Ew, what the fuck is head cheese? As soon as he departed, Sissy and I got to cleaning.

Finishing up, Sissy shows me the rest of the house and what other chores that need to be done. Right now, we’ve got a whole lot of laundry.

As we start on at least two baskets worth of dirty clothes, Johnny shows up. His hair now back to his usual style. He waltzes up, wrapping his arm around my waist and leading me off to who knows where.

“I’m going to take her around the property!" He yells back to Sissy while we walk away.

We step outside to the side-yard, which has a lovely field of gorgeous sunflowers, a collection of old abandoned cars, and a tool shed.

“Avoid wandering through the fields, Nubbins has set up some strange traps there.” He provides more details about the areas I'm not permitted to visit.

Guiding me around the vast estate he points over to the tool shed. “I'm generally out here, if you ever need to find me."

We stopped walking, now near a workbench underneath some shade across from the car graveyard. “I really like the sunflowers.” I tell him bashfully, glancing over at the flowers. He has a charming smile on his face as he puts his hands on my hips, facing me. “Do you now?” He smirks as I nod my head.

He moves closer to my ear. “Do you also enjoy eye-fucking me?” I stared wide eyed at him, embarrassed at being caught.

I thought I was being discrete during breakfast.

He holds my hips tightly. “I bet your pretty pussy is aching for me." He states picking me up and placing me on the workbench.

“And wearing such cute clothes, showing off this body to tease me, huh?” He slides his hand down my sides to the end of my shorts, tugging it off along with my underwear. "Johnny, what if someone catches us?" I ask him, worried his family might see.

“Don’t worry. Just focus on me.” He says annoyed, continuing to undress me.

I lift my hips up, letting him pull down my shorts and toss them to the ground. He skims his hands over to my chest and pushes me back. Getting me to lay flat against the bench, my legs hanging off the edge.

We're about to fuck outside in the middle of the day, I really hope no one sees us.

Johnny grabs my legs, placing them over his large shoulders, spreading them. He stares down unshamefully at my bare cunt.

"Such a wet, slutty pussy.” He smirks, taking pleasure in my embarrassment.

He squats downward, pushing my legs further apart, and presses his mouth on me. Eating me out in broad daylight.

He rubs his hot tongue over me. I close my eyes and rest my head on the bench.

I let out whimpering moans as he licks my cunt, teasingly avoiding my clit. His groans vibrate my poor, neglected nub. I move my hips while holding onto the end of the bench, attempting to direct his lips towards my clit for relief.

"Please suck my clit, Johnny!" I chuck my dignity aside and pleadingly grind against his mouth.

While he plays with me, he keeps a grip tight on my thighs. He leaves his tongue flat against my clit. I sit up, grab his head in frustration, and grind on his face erotically attempting to move his tongue against me.

“Please, lick my clit! I need you!” I pant out.

"Demanding little slut." He chuckles, pushing up my shirt and exposing my chest. I let out heavy breaths as he gropes them, giving my chest a hard squeeze, pinching and flicking my nipples while I continue my pleas.

I place my hands over his as he toys with my tits. I thrust my hips and keep my legs open as he goes back down on me. He kneads my chest while finally licking my little clit in sloppy circles. I gasp and moan out loud, holding his veiny hands harder.

I glance at the man between my legs and found him staring back. His eyes are observing me like a predator as he devours his prey. He’s so intense yet alluring. He leaves soft kisses on my clit as we stare at each other.

"Nnnh." I whimper, now slowly shoving his tongue into my pussy, rubbing my clit with his nose.

He takes his sweet time, savouring me. I tremble as I feel his tongue slide against my walls.

Just as I get close, he pulls away. He stands up and shoves me harshly back against the table again.

I watch as he drops his jeans; his hard cock bounces upwards, pre-cum dripping from his swollen head. He gives it a few pumps before pushing my legs back, holding them to my chest.

“Don’t you dare resist me. Keep em’ open.” He instructs. I head to his words, holding the back of my calves to my chest. He starts tapping the tip of his cock against my clit. “That’s my good girl.”

Now he’s dragging his heavy cock downwards to my hole, wetting it in the process.

Johnny pushes inside me very slowly. “Fuck baby, take my cock." He grunts, watching my cunt suck in his hard dick. I dig my nails into the back of my legs while he stays still.

He does a few agonising slow thrusts, and I moan at the sensation.

“You love this, don't you?" He mocks. I cry out a yes, agreeing with him.

Johnny grabs my calves, placing them over his shoulders while holding my thighs for leverage; He starts his brutal pounding.

I'm cupping my tits as they bounce roughly from his pace. The poor bench sounds like it’s about to collapse.

He‘s fucking like a wild beast that’s been starving for pussy. “Mine, mine, mine.” He grunts out, placing a hand over my mouth to muffle my loud moans.

Wanting it more intense he removes my legs off his shoulders and pulls his cock from my drenched hole.

He turns me over on my stomach, grabbing my hips, bringing them back, so I’m standing doggy style.

I gasp as he monovers his cock back into my pussy. I spill whiny moans as he thrusts in from a new angle.

"Come on, Darlin, give me a baby." He groans as he aggressively fucks me; I cry out a yes as his cock keeps hitting my sweet spot.

He’s turning me into a drooling moaning mess. His hard fucking makes my tits swing while his hips and abs are slamming into my ass. "I'm gonna fill ya full!"

He smacks my ass hard, watching the fat recoil. He growls, gripping my ass in an attempt to get a better hold on me.

He's displaying his strength by supporting my weak lower body while maintaining his speed. Before I could finish, he slows down. I whinge pushing back against him.

Cooing at me he reaches an arm around my waist. Putting a thick finger on my clit, rubbing it in circles.

Just shy of my peak, I ask him permission to orgasm. "May I cum on your cock, Johnny?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, release yourself, baby; come, you can do it.” He says breathless, picking up his original pace. I cum right there. My legs shake as I leave a mess on his cock.

He grunts, cumming right after me. Shoving his cock deep, drowning my insides with his hot cum.

We both pant heavy. I squeal as he thrusts his cock more deeply. He chuckles and slides out.

I feel his hot cum dribble over my clit. I rest my head on my arms, trying to compose myself. He holds my hips, muttering as he watches his cum drizzle out of my pussy.

“Fuck.” He moans out, turned on from the sight. Johnny goes back down on me. Using his tongue to clean me up.

I gasp and wriggle, super sensitive. He holds my hips still, eating me out from behind. I try to fight, but he's too strong. Holding my legs apart. I cry out for him to stop, but he just licks my tender clit faster.

He drags his tongue up, pushing his cum back inside me while rubbing my nub up and down with his thumb.

I bite my lip getting closer to another orgasm, humping his tongue and thumb.

I'm gasping, cumming again, hot tears rolling down my face. He shoves his tongue into my entrance sucking up my juices. “No more!” I cry squeezing my legs.

But he still doesn’t listen now tongue fucking me.

Once he's done, he stands back up, turns me around, and kisses me. I taste our flavours. I whine into the kiss, and he grips my ass hard, smacking it.

“The tour is now over, darlin'; better get back to your chores.” He says this with a cheeky grin, letting me go to putting his jeans back on.

He gives me a smirk at my dishevelled appearance and turns around, walking back to the house.

I fumble putting my shoes and shorts back on. I struggle to catch up to him on wobbly legs. Walking beside him, he takes a cigarette and lighter out of his back pocket.

He puts an arm around my waist and lights the cig in his mouth. Smoking it while we head back to the house. God help me, I think I’m in love.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter fanfic #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #fanfiction #tcm fanfic #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter x reader #Spotify

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pumpkinsy0 · 5 months ago

Note

SHEPARD FAM CAREER HEADCANNONS?????

i just woke up so excuse me me if i read this wrong and gave u somethin u aint ask for</33

tim - butcher

•said it multiple times, rhis is just him, he wanted extra cash and wanted it to have a steady reliable flow of it

•he also wanted a job where still nobody could mess w him if the did come in, yknow????

•w his record, its a miracle, maybe the boss just dont rlly care that hes in the gang and just wants the job done or this is a job tim get when hes older, maybe its a mix of both, either way his boss thought he would be an important asset in he was hired

•hes oddly graceful w it, he finds in theraputic, its odd to witness but that nigga has a way w the cleaver and knife, its pretty terrifying, maybe tim shouldnt have a job no more

•yes btw he somehow uses what he’s learned in how he fights, im not saying hes out there KILLIN ppl w his knives btw, however when it comes to rumbles w weapons, hes truly on another level

•he brings home meat for angela and curly, its mostly bacon, but he brings other stuff too, curly loves eating meat (pause on that😭) so he dont mind but ik angela gets sick of it sometimes and just wants rice or somethin

curly - he’s had like several different jobs😭

•like i could genuinely see curly as that guy whos job jumping, he’s been a janitor, a airport baggage handler, camp counselor, rn tho hes a line cook/dishwasher

•out of all three of em, i dont know HOW THIS GUY GOT A JOB, but yknow what, he got it, hes that guy that always has a new job when u see him, was he fired or did he quit??? nobody knows, u just see him pop up behind a counter some place

•he’s that coworker whos always in the back fucking around, god forbid hes the one supposed to be training u, man he’s teaching u some tricks and then leaving u to the wolves mid way

•he NEEDS a smoke break, he hates staying in one place for too long, especially in that hot ass kitchen, hes getting overstimulated and accidentally snapping at ppl someone save him

•hes not a good employee, i promise u if u got a weird ass order, he will look at u strange, and if he can sense u got social anxiety he’d probably fuck ur order up a lil bit bc what r u gonna do??? come back and tell him he got it wrong🤨🤨🤨

•chances r the place he works at is some money laundering scheme hes clueless about, he just say they were hirin and thought “eh why not”

angela - retail or fast food worker but if she tried, she could be a model

•the only one w a clean slate, her getting a job is no hassle

•shes literally nicole from bistro huddy, need i say more, she never wants to work but honestly who does???

•shes that girl listening to this poor single mother of 4 in the break room venting about how badly she needs this money to support her kids, meanwhile angela just wants to buy some damn clothes and make up😭

•man she’s never came to work in a good mood, when she wakes up she sighs putting on that uniform, but i’ll tell u what, she WILL make that uniform look good, shes a good designer w what shes got

•the customer is never right when ur in her presence, shes very intentional w what she does

•if u wanna go the model route, its bc someone took a pic of her at work and it blew up n she got recognized by modeling agencies or somethin, shes def just got “that look”, curly prolly got it too tbh, someone take a pic of him and test the waters, they can be like a two for one deal typa twin models🗣️

#curly shepard #tim shepard #angela shepard

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stylespresleyhearted · 3 months ago

Text

wish upon a star, to follow where you are

(not my gif, credit to creator)

masterlist can be found here.

summary: buck without bucky.

notes: this popped into my head today while working on my benny fic and majors wife two. i had to get it out because it was pounding for freedom. the formatting is a bit weird and any dialogue is written in italics. the love john egan and gale cleven had for one another exceeded any bounds and i wanted to add to that because i find the stories people write of them beautiful. P.S i don’t think bucky and rosie had anything against each other but at the sag panel callum and nate touched on how maybe rosie didn’t particularly care for egan so i wanted to dip my toe into it a bit. ask box is always open if anyone wants to chat mota, callum, austin or my wips.

warnings: minor contemplation of suicide, mourning, depression, major character death, platonic! clegan (squint and you can read between the lines.)

word count: 4.5k

It’s Sunday nine a.m, Gale’s eyes have only opened and he’s tired. He’s going to be tired forever.

His eyelids droop, threatening to pull him under but he knows it isn’t an option. The air smells of cinnamon and bacon; the cackling of the sizzling pans are what drew him from his slumber. Sleep wasn’t what he was doing though. It was more of a coma, eyes closed and unable to move an inch of his body but his mind and body awake. Able to hear everything. Able to feel everything still no matter how hard he’s been trying to run from it.

The closet door is swung open. His freshly ironed work suit hanging, waiting.

Responsibilities. Gale has responsibilities and he always vowed to be better than what he had so he has to get up.

His kids deserve better. His wife deserves better.

So he does better; he sits up, rubbing the exhaustion and pain from his eyes. There’s twelve hours left of his day, 720 minutes, 36 seconds before he’s going to have to do it all over again.

There are eight steps between him and his suit. Once it’s on, he has responsibilities to attend to. He has kids to raise. A wife to keep happy and show her how grateful he is to have her. Because he is, truly he is, but being grateful didn’t take away any of the bitterness of everything that has been taken away.

The thought of those things has his throat constricting, aching, yearning to yell and to release the pain.

Men don’t cry, his dad had told him.

Gale had seen men cry many times. Men braver and manlier than his father who served this country and were ripped apart and spit back into society with no guide on how to adapt or to stay alive and learning to adjust to civilian life made Germany and that damn prison camp appear inviting. At least all the soldiers in that camp understood and accepted one another. No judgements were cast.

Bucky would be in that camp.

Gale adjusts, shoving himself back underneath his mountain of covers.

His responsibilities would be there tomorrow.

The suit continues hanging.

Monday comes and he does better.

The suit no longer hangs on the door, instead it clings to his body — slim like it had been in the Stalag only this time he isn’t being refused food; he is refusing the food.

It’s the first day of school for his oldest and she clutches his hand all the way to the classroom door, chatting about the plans she has for the day and all the friends she wants to make. She reminds him of someone he knows - someone he knew. It burns his chest to think about a young boy being walked to his class by his single mother, having recently lost his father, and finding it within himself to be the loudest and the funniest and the brightest for the benefit of others.

Gale begs the world to be kind to his little girl. Begs it to keep the peace and prohibit war and keep her safe and rid itself of any pain

He thinks he does a good job smiling at her and keeping her engaged. He amuses all her chatting and assures her that her confidence will be her reality. He refuses to accept anything else. At some point the universe would have to bend for him just a little wouldn’t it?

I’ve tried to be brave. You have taken what I love most. Keep my girls healthy and happy.

All his energy is exerted at school drop off apparently. He gets to work but only lasts close to four hours. The creaking in his chair leads to a headache, his suit rubs against his skin and creates an itch, the sun comes out and shines to bright, time continues on and nobody stops.

The funeral was two weeks ago so people still have sympathy to give. His superior claps him on the shoulder, his peers offer their condolences once more, and then he’s on his way home.

He kept his daughter smiling today and that’s enough for him. Who cares if he wasn’t able to complete eight hours? He was a father before he was anything and he had succeeded today so it had to be enough.

Bucky made him feel enough always.

Gale goes home, dresses for bed, and closes his eyes.

His wife gentles him into consiousness. She pets his hair back and whispers his name. She’s smiling at him when he opens his eyes.

His daughter’s back from school and wants to tell him all about her first day, his wife informs him.

Gale nods, promising to join them soon.

She’s smiling but he sees the worry pulling her eyes down, the quivering in her chin as she attempts to maintain her smile.

He didn’t do enough today.

Gale joins his wife and their daughter in the kitchen where she’s biting into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She squeals when she sees him, jumping into his arms when he’s close enough.

He stumbles with her weight. When was the last time he’d eaten?

Daddy, she giggles, why are you in your jammies?

He isn’t sure what to say. Because Uncle Bucky died and I’m alone, isn’t appropriate.

Died. Bucky was dead. Gale hadn’t thought about it before.

The ache in his throat and the burning in his chest return. His heart breaks.

Daddy’s being silly, his wife cuts in to save him.

She takes their daughter from his arms. She probably noticed how he began to sway on his feet.

Gale has to be enough.

He puts a cap on it. Shuts it away where it doesn’t threaten to drown him.

How was school, sweetie, he asks.

His daughter beams at having his attention.

Gale remembers someone who did the same.

It’s Tuesday and Rosie won’t stop calling.

His wife is out with her girls, their oldest is at school and their youngest is with her grandmother. Gale is wearing a suit because he went to work again only this time he never managed to make it inside so he drove home after an hour.

The phone was ringing when he arrived and he answered afraid, thinking an accident occurred at school.

Major Cleven, he recognized the voice immediately. Us boys been tryin’ real hard to get ahold of you. Benny said, he, uh - well, we all miss John, sir.

Gale hung up the phone.

Rosie was a good man. A good, brave man who had taken the reins and kept their boys in high spirits and kept them safe when Buck and Bucky went down. Rosie looked out for Crosby after he’d lost all his boys. Rosie flew rescue missions with Buck and they talked about the beauty of peace after the horrendous events of war. Flowers now bloomed where bodies had laid rotting.

Rosie was a good man and Gale respected him, but Rosie never liked Bucky. It was nothing malicious or vindictive. Bucky was an all or nothing type of guy and he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Gale knows that. Bucky was either cracking jokes or lending a shoulder. Drinking back a whiskey or chatting up a pretty dame. He was either singing or he was dead.

If he wasn’t singing he was dead.

So Gale respects Rosie and he may have love for Rosie but Rosie didn’t like Bucky and Gale doesn’t want to talk to him.

He leaves the house when his wife said she would be back. He walks to an old farm he remembers from when he was young. He pets the horses.

He gets home at six p.m when work is supposed to be over and dinner is ready.

Oh honey you just missed Rosie! He rang, his wife says.

Gale nods his head. I’ll be sure to call him back.

He takes his seat at the head of the table.

How was work, his wife asks.

Just fine, honey, he says, how was your day?

It’s Wednesday and Gale holds his baby.

He tells his wife he’s going to stay home today. There’s no need to take their baby anywhere.

Their baby is eight months old and she started teething. She’s a gurgling, content ball of milk fat flesh in his skinny arms.

It’s okay, he tells her. Daddy’s gotchu.

She grins at him, releasing spit that he wipes off her chin. It’s his favorite thing in the world to sniff the inside of her neck: momma’s milk and spit and the fresh baby smell that’s been waning off as she gets bigger.

She’s content in his arms until she isn’t. He keeps his finger in her mouth in an attempt to soothe the ache and the itch in her gums even after his finger begins to burn and the indent of her incoming tooth scratches at his sensitive skin.

He tries to feed her and she cries.

He holds her and she cries.

He hands her toys and she throws them and she cries.

All she can do is cry and Gale understands. There’s no ache in his gums but there’s one lodged deep in his chest that refuses to go away and he understands.

You cry it out, he tells his baby. Daddy will stay with you.

Gale fixes them on the couch, her tucked in tight between the cushion and his chest. She clutches his hand in her tiny ones and moves his finger back in her mouth.

She stops crying and for Gale it’s more than enough.

He’s not sure how long it’s been but they must have fallen asleep together because the shutting of the door and tiny, stomping footsteps wake him.

He calls his oldest daughter over but she huffs in response, making a scene of throwing her school bag before heading upstairs.

The baby stays sleeping and he stands, moving a cushion over to take his place so she isn’t in danger of rolling off.

Honey, he says, what’s wrong?

She’s being awfully quiet but he sees her shoulders shaking.

When his wife turns her eyes are red and she doesn’t bother to wipe away the falling tears.

Bucky had promised her he’d visit her on the first week of school. She asked when today and I told her he wouldn’t be coming anymore and, she’s cut off by sobs racking her body.

Gale finds his oldest in her room, glaring at the door as she waits for one of her parents to come in.

Uncle Bucky is a liar, she accuses before Gale attempts to approach his grumpy child.

Hey. His voice is stern, loud, in a way that it hasn’t been since they left Thorpe Abotts. His baby girl flinches and he remembers the war is over.

Gale apologizes and she deflates, allowing him the spot beside her on her tiny bed. It’s a race car bed with unicorns that Bucky helped her draw.

Uncle Bucky loved you so much, baby, his eyes burn as he speaks, he would be here if he could.

But when, she cries.

Well, baby, he’s up in the sky now. Bucky was raised a strong Catholic by his Ma’ for all his talk of non-belief. Gale was the non believer. He wasn’t sure there was a God or a higher power but he knew there was him and Bucky and that’s all he ever needed.

His baby scrunches her brows together, he’s in the ai’plain again?

And for the first time, Gale laughs.

Yup. He’s back in that B-17.

It’s Thursday and Bucky’s dead.

It hits Gale like a freight train. This sense of loss and the shattering in his heart isn’t something to get over; it’s something he has to learn to live with.

He’s going to have to miss John Egan for the rest of his life.

The entire time Gale’s been waiting on Bucky to pop back up, as bruised and dirty and battered as when he entered the stalag. Bucky would crawl from his grave, demolish the expensive tombstone they’d thrown over his body, and cross state lines to get to him. Because Bucky loved him and he had done it once and he would do it again.

But it sinks in that Bucky isn’t coming back. He isn’t visiting for the first week of school and his voice won’t be heard over the receiver ever again and he won’t show up unannounced on random days because he was bored.

Buck had fallen out of the sky and Bucky had followed his route, taken multiple, horrendous detours and managed to chase him down and allow him to return home first.

Now Bucky was dead and Buck had no one that would die for him, only people he would die for.

It’s Thursday and Bucky’s dead and Gale stays in bed, debating if this means it’s his turn to follow his dearest friend.

It’s Friday and DeMarco’s worried.

He knocks again, ignoring Brady’s leveling stare. He didn’t care if it wasn’t proper to bang on someone’s door, he needed to make sure Major Cleven was alright.

I’m comin’, I’m comin, he hears grumbling and the lock unhatching and then the door swings open to reveal Gale Cleven.

DeMarco takes a step back, air knocked out at the memories the sight of the state of his Major brings up. The eyebags under his eyes are dark and swollen, his eyes have dimmed of any witty remarks or expressions (maybe because Bucky was gone so he had no one left to dish them to) and DeMarco’s unsure why he appears slimmer than when they were at the stalag. His shoulders are bony, tiny, and his wrists look weak.

A strong gust of air would be able to knock their Major over.

Boys, he greets and at least his voice still sounds strong.

Gale lets them in, allowing them to follow him through his foyer until they’re seated at his kitchen island. Benny arrives last, opting to sit on the arm of the couch across from where Gale and Brady sit together. He sees his Major’s eyes cinch, just for a second and Benny hopes to see fire, wants Gale to curse at him for being improper and sitting on the arm of his couch, but then it’s gone and they sit in silence.

Want a drink, from his left pocket Benny extends a flask towards Gale.

Brady’s eyes widen when he accepts it but he hides the surprised gasp behind a cough into his elbow.

Gale thanks him, then sips.

We’re all gonna miss him, Major, Brady keeps his eyes downcast, picking at his fingernails. When he’d first met Bucky he had been in awe: that’s the kind of man he wanted to be like as a kid. Through the war the walls had begun to crack and Brady had seen the faults in the persona of his favorite Major but he’d never stopped being in awe of the leader he was.

Now Brady was allowed to mourn but he couldn’t do it in front of Major Cleven, who had lost much more.

You boys take a wrong turn, Gale asks and doesn’t address Brady’s comment.

Brady looks up now, locking eyes with DeMarco. There’s a connection between a pilot and his co-pilot that exceeds one’s personal stubbornness and pain.

Benny and Buck had dropped from a plane together the same way Brady and Bucky had.

Rosie’s been trynna call you, Benny says. He said his calls stopped going through. I tried calling and it was the same thing.

Had the line disconnected, Gale says and not much else.

Benny nods, Well that’s why we’re down here, Buck. Bucky wouldn’t want to see ya like this.

Good thing dead people can’t see, DeMarco.

God and those resting see all, Brady chimes in and chooses to ignore the warning look sent to him by Benny. He respects Buck and the man he is but that doesn’t mean he would sit idly by and allow disrespect to his beliefs.

For a second DeMarco’s afraid they’re going to be kicked out of the house. Buck’s shoulders tense, a skinny elbow balanced on a bony knee and the hand holding the flask is in a white knuckle tight grip but then it is gone.

Buck deflates, a head nod in Brady’s direction an apology unspoken.

Drove Bucky mad whenever you refused to eat in the camp, Benny reminisces, He’d shove his half eaten tuna can at me to hand to you. He always said you’d never take it from him because you would go as mad as him if he refused to eat.

It was the way of their major’s. The way it had been from the first day at flight school and how it had ended in East Anglia. And their closeness never brought on suspicions or raised any eyebrows because everyone was always much too thankful to the two men who did their best to bring them home alive and sane.

‘Member when he traded his first blanket for a bar of chocolate, Brady says and even Buck cracks a smile which accompanies his head shake. He’d been so angry he had stormed back to the Polish sector and demanded they return Bucky’s blanket. The price was much too high.

The Polish soldier settled with Bucky’s beanie and that night, once he was curled in his bunk wrapped up in a blanket and beanie down covering his ears, Bucky’s grumbling about how his head was cold kept him up.

Damn blanket hog, Gale adds. The blankets always ended up wrapped around Bucky and Bucky ended up wrapped around Buck, like an even exchange.

From his right pocket Benny produces another flask. Brady shakes his head in disapproval, but accepts it when offered.

To Major Egan, he clanks his flask against Buck’s in cheers.

Their sentiments echo in the empty house. They sit telling stories about a prison camp like friends around a campfire sharing school stories.

It’s evening when the boys leave. Gale hasn’t lost his smile for the past two hours and all they had done was talk about Bucky. Gale remembered everything they said, but only once Brady or DeMarco said it. The memories he had of Bucky being kept at bay like he was afraid they would cripple and ruin him if he dared to remember.

News said there’s gonna be shooting stars lighting up the sky tomorrow, Brady shares. He always loved those.

It’s Saturday night and Gale lays on the grass in his backyard. When Brady had excused himself to use the restroom, DeMarco had offered him some sleeping pills, prescribed by some head shrink in Chicago that he was 90% sure DeMarco had admitted to sleeping with during a phone call once.

Only one when the nights get too heavy, he had said.

Gale had accepted them but there had been no plans on taking them until he’d been tossing and turning and had taken himself to the couch so he wouldn’t wake his wife.

He had been tossing and turning on the couch when he remembered what Brady had said about the shooting stars. He swallowed a pill and brought a blanket to lay on the grass.

But that had been over an hour ago and sleep hadn’t come and neither had any shooting star.

It’s when he’s getting up, dragging the blanket with him, that he sees light cross the sky quickly. Followed by a twin shadow soon after and he’s unsure of how many he has so he wishes fast with his eyes closed.

I wish for Bucky.

He stands there in the darkness of his yard, silent except for the crickets, and waits. Waits. Waits.

Bucky doesn’t come strolling by and Gale gives up. Hopeless and ashamed for believing in wishing upon a star. For believing he would be allowed to bend the ways of the universe like Bucky used to.

Bucky made things happen.

Gale heads inside.

It’s two a.m and Gale’s unsure of how long he’s been asleep but there is someone poking his cheek and calling his name.

Buck. Buck.

Gale’s humming but this person is consistent in their prodding. They don’t want just his response, they require his attention.

Buck.

He opens his eyes and Bucky’s there. Wrinkly smile, bright blue eyes, mustache and all - his Major’s hat tipped to the side.

What took you so long, he smirks.

And Gale smiles a real smile for the first time since he got that phone call. It threatens to split his face. He looks like an idiot, cheesing as hard as he is and if he weren’t so afraid Bucky would disappear he would reach out to touch him.

Stone in my shoe, Gale returns.

They’re back on base in East Anglia, watching the bombs fall after having snuck out the bunker.

Gale feels young, twenty-two again before the effects of war managed to catch up to him.

Unable to stop himself from reaching out, Buck claps a hand on Bucky’s back. He is warm and solid. He isn’t rotten and cold six feet under.

Give it to me straight, Bucky starts, the Yankees have a turn around this season?

There’s a teasing glint in his eye. He’s so sure Buck doesn’t have the answer but,

Lost to the Red Sox. Cardinals are taking it. The game had come on over the radio and Buck hadn’t changed the station.

Bucky curses, but he looks amused, looking back at Buck.

So all I had to do was die to get ya’ to listen to a game huh, he admonishes.

Dead? Gale freezes, you’re right here with me.

Bucky looks back at him to check if he’s joking, another bomb landing much closer and illuminating the shadows on his face. The curve of his jaw and the sharp lines of his nose.

This ain’t where I stay, Buck. Just asked the Big Guy for a weekend pass, he raises a thin brow.

Buck doesn’t have anything to say to that and he can’t find it in himself to muster a smile at the joke.

He thought time had turned back. That they had a chance to do it all over again only this time he would limit the drinks and the smokes and the women and the pain Bucky consumed and then his heart wouldn’t give out on him.

When John offered an invite to London, Buck would accept it this time.

He would do it right.

It was always me who couldn’t live without you, Buck. You - you’re gonna be just fine. Strongest man I know.

Everyone found it easy to assume because John was always shameless and loud in his adoration of Buck. He was never afraid to pinch his cheeks — soft and plump like a pretty girl’s flesh — and he had a habit of grabbing at Buck’s thigh when he sat beside him — need to do something with my hands — and use any opportunity to sing his praises — now Buck he’s a damn good pilot; he’s a fighter pilot who happens to fly a bus. Buck had gotten shot down in enemy territory and Bucky had commanded an entire flight plan in order to follow him.

But Buck — he was the one who couldn’t be without John. Who saved him the seat beside him at every table and saved his rarest smiles for John because they made him feel special. It was Buck who saw the Air Exec post was killing him and requested he be demoted. Buck had paced the entirety of the camp and was led to his bunk with a rifle to his back every night until John arrived.

He had been glad when John arrived because then he wasn’t alone. Then Buck had John.

And John would have never wished for Buck to be in the Stalag if the roles were reversed; he would have been shot down in an attempt to keep him from entering the gates.

John was selfless with his love for Buck; Gale’s love for Bucky is selfish.

Always told you to take better care of that heart, Gale says. He had said it in regard to the skirts he chased and to the boys he led and he had said it the first day they met when Bucky handed his heart to his namesake.

I wouldn’t do anything different, John returns. I had a good run of it. How are my girls?

Buck thinks of Jo and Annie and Katie and how he hadn’t bothered to call or check on them and recoils in shame.

How was the first week of school, John asks instead.

Buck stutters then tells him of how upset his oldest had gotten when Uncle Bucky never arrived.

She’s gonna be a tough one, John smirks. She’ll be fine, I left her with some tips on how to deal with any mean bastards.

Bucky, he warns.

Bucky shrugs.

Call Jo will ya? Annie was giving her a hard time, she’s at that age. Tell ‘er the tickets to the pony show are inside my shirt drawer, Gale gives him an eyebrow raise and Bucky shrugs again, The girls wanted to see unicorns so. That’s what I got. The unicorn’s cousin.

You’re ridiculous.

Call Jo ya hear me?

I hear you, Bucky. I promise.

Good, Bucky relaxes back to continue watching. It should be criminal for mass destruction to create such beautiful colors. And book a flight down there too. I need you to pick up my lucky deuce. The Yankee’s luck needs a Buck.

Gale shakes his head, Aw hell, John. But he’s smiling through the demands.

That’s the way it has been since the day they met.

Buck, tie my shoe.

Buck, help me fly this plane.

Buck, fix the collar of my jacket.

Buck, help me trim my mustache. Can't get it straight.

Buck was given Bucky’s name and a list of demands but all they did was help him feel enough.

Buck would be enough.

Thanks for visitin’, John says. Get more rest, it’ll give us time to catch up.

All I do is sleep, Gale admits, disappointed. He thinks of his wife’s sad eyes every time she sees him in bed.

Nah. You close your eyes but you don’t sleep.

Benny gave me pills, Gale admits. Took one tonight and then I wished on a shooting star.

Bucky clucks his tongue, You get back and you flush ‘em. And I’m gonna stop by Benny’s tonight and yank him from his bed.

Gale rolls his eyes. Don’t do that. I’ll flush them.

You don’t need no shooting star or funny pills, Gale, John says. All you gotta do is ask me to come and I’ll be here.

Buck settles back against the wall and allows the silence to envelop them.

It’s Sunday nine a.m, Gale’s eyes have only open and Bucky’s still dead,

Gale wakes, gets ready for the day, and calls Jo.

#masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfic #clegan #platonic! clegan #kinda platonic they love each other a lot and it blurs #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #*made by me

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honeyedmiller · 1 year ago

Text

Fate, After All | Joel Miller — Part Three

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, Joel is head over heels and a fuckin SOFTIEEEE for reader, no-outbreak!Joel, and smut (including protected p in v, oral [ f and m receiving], dirty talk, and a bit of a size kink I guess??), and pet names. no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 5.7k

series masterlist

“Dad, it’s been a couple of months. Why haven’t you asked her to be your girlfriend yet?” Sarah quirks a brow at her father sitting across the dining room table from her, arms crossed over her chest as she awaits his excuse.

“I want it to be special.” Joel mumbles, wanting nothing more than to change the subject. His feelings for you were so strong that it quite honestly started to scare him a little. This was way too fast, right? How does this even work?

He honestly hadn’t been this involved with someone since Sarah’s mother, and though you were nothing like her, he was terrified of getting hurt again. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t do such a thing, but then again, he thought the same thing about Sarah’s mom.

“She’s one patient woman, I’ll give her that.” Sarah giggled, and Joel scowled at her.

“Eat your damn eggs and hush up, you.” Joel chided playfully, which caused Sarah to giggle even more.

“Good mornin’.” Tommy walks into the kitchen with a yawn, mindlessly making himself a plate of breakfast.

“Dad hasn’t asked his girl to be his girlfriend yet.” Sarah blurts, and Tommy looks at his older brother in confusion.

“Seriously? Thought y’would’ve already.” Tommy points a piece of bacon at Joel, causing him to roll his eyes.

“As I was just telling your niece who apparently can’t mind her own business,” Joel sighed in exasperation, “I’m waiting for the right time. I want it to be special.”

“You’re askin’ her to be your girlfriend. Not your wife, Joel.” Tommy’s retort was laced with a laugh, but Joel’s stomach oddly twisted nervously at the whole ‘wife’ thing—and not in a bad way.

“Jesus, fine, I’ll ask her this weekend. Maybe you two can get outta here for a couple of hours while I set somethin’ up.”

“How’s a movie and dinner date sound, Sarah?” Tommy grins at his niece, and she beams at him.

“Love to, Uncle Tommy.”

“It’s settled then. Call her and get her here this weekend.” Tommy sits down next to Joel, and Joel nods as he gets up to retrieve his phone from the kitchen counter. He walks upstairs into his room because lord knows he doesn’t need comments about how you make him smile like a fool at the mere sound of your voice.

He dialed your number and pressed the phone to his ear in anticipation. It only rang twice before you picked up.

“Hello?” Your sweet voice sounded through the phone.

“Hey darlin.’ How are you?” Joel couldn’t hide the grin that played on his lips.

“Hey, Joel. I’m good. Is everything alright?” Your voice was full of concern, which made Joel’s heart melt just a little more.

“Everythin’s fine, darlin.’ Just wanted to see what you were up to this weekend.” Joel moved the palm of his free hand against his jean-clad thigh, nervousness seeping through his bones.

“Nothin’, really. Just a little bit of housekeeping and grocery shopping on Sunday.”

“Would you maybe wanna come over on Friday night n’ spend the night?” Joel’s hopeful tone had your heart doing flips.

“Of course. I’d love that. Should I bring anything?”

“Just your beautiful self, darlin.’ Can’t wait t’see you again.” Joel’s voice was soft and loving, and you couldn’t hide the foolish smile you wore.

“Sounds good, handsome. I’ll see you Friday night.”

Friday night couldn’t have come any slower. Joel had only called you on Wednesday, but those two days seemed to drag. Maybe it was because you were so giddy about seeing Joel again. You both had been pretty busy, so you didn’t get to see each other too often since Sunday brunch a couple of weeks back.

Work was also kicking your ass, so relaxing for the weekend was something you desperately needed. Joel told you to bring your swim suit, which you were happy to oblige to. The Texas summer sun was nearly unbearable, when crazy thunderstorms weren't impending. Keeping your hair tame in the awful humidity was a mission in itself.

You'd called Joel to tell him you were on your way to his house, which he told you to be at around seven in the evening. Nervousness ran over the course of your body. Why? You're not entirely sure yourself, but just the thought of the older Miller brother made butterflies course rambunctiously in your stomach.

A small smile played at your lips once the Miller residence was in sight. Joel's truck was parked in the driveway, but Tommy's wasn't. You parked your car on the street, grabbing your overnight bag and your purse before stepping out of your car and locking it. You smoothed out your sundress before making your way to the front door—that is, until a woman's voice interrupted you.

"Hi honey, are you Joel's girlfriend?" The older woman asked. She was shielding her eyes from the setting sun, looking at you intently. Your eyes noticed the glinting cross necklace she wore, and you met her gaze again while smiling kindly.

"No ma'am," Unfortunately, I'm not his girlfriend... yet, you thought, "Just a friend of his and Tommy's."

"Hmm," She starts, licking her lips, "Well, if you have a moment to talk about Jesus, I'd love to share some scriptures with you. I know how you crazy kids are about pre-marital sex and such." Her tone was almost demeaning. Almost.

You almost choked out at her words. "Uhm," You grew uncomfortable rather quickly, but luckily, Joel opened the front door to his house.

"There you are, sweetheart. Why're you just standin'—oh." Joel met you on the pathway to his front door, looking across his yard to see Mrs. Adler standing on hers.

"Evenin' Mrs. Adler." Joel politely greeted his older neighbor, mustering up the best tight-lipped smile he could give.

"Joel, honey, I was just tellin' your friend here the importance of the word of God and how pre-marital sex is-" She couldn't finish her sentence before Joel shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat.

"Right, um, maybe another time, Mrs. Adler." Joel placed his hand on your lower back before he started to guide you to his house, "G'night now." He waved at her before you both stepped into the air conditioned home.

"I am so sorry y'had to endure that." Joel huffed, a chuckle laced with his words.

"It's okay, Joel. After all, I could've used the lesson on how terrible pre-marital sex is." You tease, wiggling your eyebrows at him. His boisterous laugh fills the room as he shakes his head, grabbing your bags from you. He set them gently down on the sofa as you followed suit.

He turned around and easily wrapped his arms around you, bending down slightly to peck your nose.

"Missed you, darlin'." Joel closed his eyes as he rubbed his nose slightly against the side of yours.

"I missed you too, handsome." Your arms found purchase around the back of Joel's neck, as you two just stood in each other's embrace for a couple of minutes. You lifted yourself up a little so your lips met his, and he eagerly moved his lips with yours.

"Where's Tommy and Sarah?" You mumbled against his lips, and his grip got tighter on you.

"Tommy took Sarah out for dinner and a movie. We have the house to ourselves for a few hours." Joel smiled as he parted from you, looking down at your features. Every time he looked at you, he could feel his heart melting with desire—desire to protect you, to cherish you, to be with you, to (eventually) love you, and just desire you in general.

"Mm, so what did you have planned, cowboy?" You grinned up at him and he shook his head with a playful smile on his lips at the nickname.

"Well, my dear, if you follow me this way..." He trailed off, gently grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with his. He led you out to the backyard, which coincidentally you'd never seen before.

You softly gasp at the sight before you, heart swelling at the set up. String lights were strung all along a wooden gazebo, with a cute patio table and matching chairs underneath it. A bouquet of flowers and box of chocolates sat on one of the chairs. The pool was merely a couple of feet away from the set up, and the lights from the gazebo twinkled brilliantly against the softly still water.

"Joel," Hot tears began to form in your eyes, "This is so beautiful. I- I don't know what to even say." Your gaze met his dark brown one, and his eyes bored into yours as you turned to face him and rest a hand on his sturdy chest. "Thank you." You whisper, leaning up to give him a peck on the lips.

"No need to thank me, darlin'. I know you've been stressed at work n' all, so I thought a nice romantic evening would do the trick." His boyish smile that he wore tugged at your heart. You never knew Joel could be such a romantic.

"Who knew Joel Miller could be quite the romantic?" You teased, nudging his torso lightly.

"Only for you, baby. C'mon, let's get you settled so we can eat dinner." He guided you to the gazebo, pulling out your chair for you after setting the chocolates on the table and handing you the flowers.

"These roses are beautiful, Joel. This is so thoughtful. Thank you." You sit down as Joel helps you scoot closer to the table. You take a sniff of the beautiful flowers, and his hands rest on your shoulders gently.

"Ain't a thing, darlin'," Joel smiled down at you as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "Here, let me get dinner." He moved to the grill that was a few feet away, getting the two plates that sat in there with foil on top. You gently set the flowers down on the table as he served you your plate, taking the foil off. He did the same thing for his plate, then went to the mini fridge by the grill and pulled out a chilled bottle of wine with two glasses.

He set both glasses down and sat across from you, filling up your glass first. He did the same to his and set the bottle to the side when he was done. A look of nervousness flashed across his face, and you furrowed your eyebrows.

"Everything alright, Joel?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. He reached across the table for your hand, and gave his a small squeeze when your hand rested in his.

"There's uh, somethin' I've been meanin' to ask you." He's quiet, and you can feel his hand get a little sweaty.

Your heart started to hammer in your chest, so much so that you didn't doubt Joel could probably feel your hand pulsating harshly, too.

"Anything." You whisper, keeping your gaze on his soft and steady, even though you were internally freaking out.

He clears his throat, "I know it's taken me awhile, but I wanted to make this right—I wanted to make sure we were both ready for something like this," He gestured between you two, and you nodded in comprehension.

"My sweetheart, would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" His shy smile is nothing short of dreamy, and once again, leave it to Joel Miller to make your heart do all sorts of flips.

"Of course, Joel. I'd love to be yours." You give his hand a tighter squeeze this time, and he lifts yours up to his lips.

"You have no idea how happy you make me, darlin'."

"I can say the same for you, Mr. Miller." Something in your tone awoke something in Joel. Your saccharine smile almost made his heart give out. He offered you an award-winning smile before you both dove in to the delicious dinner. He made some sirloin steaks with rice and broccoli.

"I gotta hand it to you, Miller. You're a master on the grill." You groan at another bite of the tender, juicy steak that was quite literally seasoned to perfection.

Joel beamed at you boyishly, a huge lipped-grin thrown your way.

"Thank you, honey, I take pride in that."

Honey. The pet name made you stifle a smile, the reality of being Joel's girlfriend finally hitting you.

"I was thinkin' after dinner, we could take a dip in the pool. It's still warm enough." Joel suggests, and you nod.

"Way ahead of you, baby. Already wearin' my suit underneath the dress."

Around forty five minutes after finishing dinner, Joel grabbed two pool towels and went to change into his swim suit. You slipped off your sundress, resting it on the back of the chair you sat in for dinner; your sandals followed suit. You sat down on the concrete beside the pool, letting your legs dangle in the surprisingly warm water. The slight breeze the night let on was comforting. Not too hot, not too cold.

The back sliding door to the house opened and shut, and Joel's heavy footsteps padded along the concrete. He set down the two towels somewhere behind you, and made his way over to you.

"Well howdy there, pretty lady." Joel said flirtatiously, causing you to laugh. You look up to where he was standing next to you, and couldn't help but notice how his eyes ran over your nearly bare figure hungrily.

A heat pooled between your legs as you bit your lip, quickly averting your gaze down to the pool water. Joel felt his swim trunks get a little tighter, so to save himself from humiliation, he did what any man would do—cannonballed into the water.

His action was so sudden that you let out a loud gasp as a few stray water droplets from the wave of his splash rained on you.

"Joel!" You're laughing uncontrollably, head tossed back as one of your hands clutched your abdomen.

"I think it's your turn to come in with me, sugar." Joel had a menacing smirk on his face as he swam closer to you.

"Oh no you don't cowboy." You warned, kicking a foot up so you could splash him with water.

"Just for that, you're definitely comin' in with me." He swam up to you and grabbed both your ankles before you could splash him again, but he didn't tug you in like you were expecting. He stood up straight, hands trailing up your legs slowly.

He smiled softly as he felt goosebumps adorn your soft legs. He loved the affect he had on you, because hell, you had the same affect on him too. His hands made their way up to your thighs, making sure to rub tiny circles into your soft skin.

Your gaze was fixed solely on him. If it were logical, you'd jump his bones right then and there. You wanted his name to roll off of your tongue like a prayer on Sunday morning. His touch had you wanting to write beneath him; signal him to go further somehow. Your shyness caught up to you in the moment, so all your body physically could do was just sit there and endure the tease.

"You're so breathtakin', baby." Joel's voice is a whisper as his eyes darken, lust clearly taking over his features. His hands were nearly at the apex of your thighs, so you did the only thing you could think of to suggest him to go further if he'd like: you adjusted yourself on the concrete and spread your legs a little wider, moving yourself closer to the edge.

A look of determination flashed across Joel's eyes, hunger taking over his physique. Joel looked at you questioningly as his fingertips neared your core. All you did was bite your lip and give him the slightest nod. His eyes moved down to your clothed core as he brushed his fingers over you, eliciting a small whine from your throat.

"Joel, please." You murmured, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Please what, angel? Gotta use your words." He teased, dipping his head down to leave feather-light kisses on your inner thighs.

"Please, use your fingers, y-your mouth, god, just touch me, Joel." You begged, and usually, you couldn't stand how needy and desperate you sounded. You usually never had to beg with any of your past partners, but when it came to Joel and his skillful touch, you were more than willing to do so.

"That's my girl. Usin' her manners too. Y'must really want this, hm sugar?" You couldn't take the teasing much longer. Your hand found its way into his wet locks, threading your fingers through.

"Lift your hips for me, baby." Joel's deep voice sent a shiver up your spine, arousing you even further. You did ask he asked and lifted your hips, and his hands easily tugged down both sides of your bikini bottom. He tossed the cloth next to you on the concrete, and used his hands to separate your thighs even further.

"So fuckin' pretty, baby. So perfect. All mine." Joel mumbled almost to himself, and he couldn't fucking wait to have his dessert. He ducked his head back down as he kissed your inner thighs a couple of times more before moving to your already soaked pussy. Joel nearly moaned at how wet you were for him already.

"Christ, woman, you're soaked. I get you that worked up, huh?" He looked up at your face, moving his hand to your core. His middle finger went up and down your slit, then popping it into his mouth to taste you. He hummed as he moved his hands back down to wrap around your thighs. He moved his head down and licked a long, hot stripe up your core.

You gasped loudly as you gripped his hair a little tighter.

“Oh, f-fuck.” You cried, reveling the feeling of his tongue on you. He moaned against you as he started to ravish you like a starving man.

“Fuck, baby you taste so goddamn good.” Joel mewled, not wasting a second your moans began to get louder and your arm supporting you up started to become shaky.

It’d been way too long since someone’s gone down on you, and even then, no one ever pleasured you as good as Joel was in this very moment. His skilled tongue was enough to make you want to convulse in a matter of minutes. Him adding his ring and middle finger to the mix was enough to make you want to scream his name out.

You were a writing mess beneath the beautiful man, but you didn’t care. You started to grind your hips for that last bit of friction you needed, and Joel kept his fingers at a steady pace when he unlatched his mouth from you to give you the final push.

“C’mon, pretty girl. That’s it. Give it t’me.” Joel looked up at you, loving the way you were unraveling around his fingers.

The white hot coil that was building up in your core had finally snapped, pushing you over the edge with pleasure. His name was rolling off of your tongue freely, loudly, and repetitively. Your grip on his hair loosened once you were coming down, body still convulsing time to time.

“Fuck.” You tried to catch your breath as your chest was heaving.

Joel chuckled, but took a moment to admire the flush in your cheeks and the way your eyelashes fell against your cheeks when your eyes were closed in pure ecstasy. You truly were so beautiful.

Your eyes slowly opened and refocused themselves on Joel.

“What time are Sarah and Tommy supposed to come back?” You ask him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stood up to normal height. He kissed you, and you immediately tasted yourself on him. His chin was completely drenched with your arousal.

“Not until around eleven or so,” He wrapped his arms around you, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck before making his way back up to your lips. “Why? Did you have something in mind?” Joel’s subtle smirk meant he knew exactly where you were going, but he wanted you to say it.

“Mm, looks like we still have a couple of hours.” You grinned, twirling the hair at the base of his head around your fingers.

“It would appear so, darlin’.”

“I have a couple of things in mind, cowboy.” Your voice is merely a whisper as you tug him closer, pressing your lips to his.

“Like what baby?” He’s grinning like a fool, but he doesn’t care.

“I’d rather show you than tell you.” Your words went straight to Joel’s aching cock. He groaned and rested his forehead against your chest before looking up at you.

He moved away from you to get himself out of the pool, offering you his hand to help you stand up. His bulge was clear as day through his swim trunks, even though the heavy chlorine water was weighing the fabric down.

“Like what you see?” Joel chuckled as he tried his best to dry himself off quickly.

“Actually, I do. Very much.” You grin, picking up your bikini bottoms from the ground before sliding them back on.

Joel fake pouts at you, “Why’d you put those back on?”

"You already got a taste, Mr. Miller. Let's go back inside before Mrs. Adler gives us an earful about our sinful endeavor." You grin up at him as he leads you back into the cool home.

"Get your sexy ass upstairs. I ain't done with you yet, darlin'." Joel's words sent a rush of heat down to your core once more, making you stifle a whine.

You both made it upstairs to his bedroom, and Joel couldn't keep his hands off of you. You loved it, though. It showed how needy he really was for you without saying a single word.

He gabbed your hips gently and pushed you against his body, wrapping his arms around you as his mouth left an array of kisses on your face and neck. The coolness of his swim trunks pressed against your body contrasted greatly with how heated you were feeling not only externally, but internally too.

"Joel," You breathe, "You have to wash the chlorine off of you." You whisper as you gently held the back of his neck while his lips found their way to your collarbone. He pulled away from you and gave you a confused look, as if you were brushing him off and didn't want to continue your escapades.

You simply just grabbed his hand and lead him to his bathroom, turning on the shower to a temperature you both would like. You turn around to face him and smile shyly up at him before undoing your bikini top, slowly sliding the straps down your shoulders. You didn't hesitate to slide off your bottoms once more as well, all in one swift motion.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered, causing a small smile to find its way to your lips. Joel's breath hitched in his throat at the proximity between you two.

He stared down at you with curiosity and wonder, as if he was trying to guess your next move. You moved yourself closer to him and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pushing yourself up on your feet so your lips could meet his in a soft, gentle kiss. His arms immediately found home around your waist once more, pushing you against him. Your bare body on his sent a shock wave down your spine. Joel must've felt it too because he groaned.

You moved your hands delicately down his chest to his torso, nails ever so slightly scraping his skin. Goosebumps ran over his skin as your hands went further down, until they rested right above his swim trunks. He pulled away from the kiss, eyes settling on yours.

"Can I?" You ask, and he nodded almost frantically. You undid the string that was tied at the top, sliding down his swim trunks only to leave them a sopping mess on the bathroom floor.

You wanted to gawk at how big he was. You'd felt it during your frequent make out sessions with him, but truly underestimated how big he truly was. Without saying another word, you took his hand and led him into the shower. The warm water coaxed you both to relax your muscles almost instantly.

Joel eyed you conspicuously, heart beating so rapidly he swore you could hear it, even over the droplets of shower water hitting your bodies and the bathtub floor.

"It's my turn to take care of you, cowboy," The saccharine smile you throw his way is conflicting the tone of your voice—velvety and sickly sweet, but in a manner that screamed I want you. "Can I do that for you, my honey?" Your eyes bore into his and he nearly buckled right then and there.

"Please," He begged, "Please take care of me." Joel was always so insistent on never being a beggar, especially when it came to anything involving sexual activities, but you were driving him fucking insane with the innocent look you had on your face. He knew damn well you were far from it, and he couldn't wait to experience that side of you.

You dropped to your knees in an instant, softly grabbing his rock hard cock into your hand. You began to pump your hand at a languid pace, making sure to keep eye contact with Joel the whole time. He groaned at the sensation and closed his eyes, shuddering at the feeling of your small, warm hand wrapped around him.

You smirked to yourself as you moved your head forward, your lips meeting his swollen tip. He sucked in a sharp breath as you lazily ran your tongue over him, immediately tasting the pre cum that'd been there the moment you agreed to let him devour you.

"Fuck, angel, please." Joel inhaled, threading his thick fingers through your now wet hair. You hummed against him, moving your lips down the side of his cock. You kissed him at the very base, moving your lips back up to the tip before opening your mouth and taking him in inch by inch. You had to go slow at first, because you knew adjusting to his size was going to take you a little while.

He moaned as your lips met the base of him, tears already forming in your eyes. You moved back ever so slight; just enough to only have half of him in your mouth. He opened his eyes and looked down at you, pupils blown and irises black.

"Takin' me so fuckin' well in that pretty little mouth of yours, angel." Joel gritted through his teeth, brows threading together and head lolling to the side as you found a steady, rhythmic pace to bob your head. Your free hand gripped the back of his thigh, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance.

"That's it. Just like that, baby, fuck." He mewled, and his praise made you involuntarily moan against him. Heat spread throughout your body at the sight above you: Joel Miller, a panting mess because of your sweet mouth. Just the thought of that alone nearly made you come.

You could tell Joel was close with the way his hips stuttered, eager to help him find his release. You gave one last push, taking his whole length into your mouth. His tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag—and Joel come undone. He nearly whimpered as your eyes were locked on his, swallowing every last drop he gave you.

He pulled you up to his level again and crashed his lips against yours, the need to fuck you into oblivion becoming too strong to control any longer.

It's as if you read his mind when you reluctantly broke apart from the hasty kiss. "Joel, please, I need you." You whimpered, desperation transparent in your voice.

Joel was quick to shut off the shower faucet, not giving a fuck if both of you were dripping wet. He dragged you out of the shower and into his bedroom, nearly tossing you on his bed. The look in his eyes said he wanted to take you until you saw stars, but reluctancy held him back. This was your first official time together after all, and he didn't want to be a dick and be rough with you.

You on the other hand, wanted him to do exactly what he originally intended to do. You sensed his reluctancy, so you grabbed his bicep as he hovered over you, and you nodded frantically.

"Joel, don't be gentle. Ruin me." You really couldn't even process the words spilling out of your mouth before Joel had you flipped over on all fours. You perched your ass up in the air as you lay your face down on the soft comforter. You felt the dip in the bed where he was disappear. He rummaged through his night stand and pulled out a condom, ripping the foil packet open. You watched as he rolled the latex onto himself before disappearing from your peripheral.

The bed dipped down again, excitement and anticipation all too prominent in your core.

"You sure 'bout this, darlin'?" Joel asked, sincerity in his voice. You appreciated the fact that he was double checking with you, because you knew this was going to be a lot for the both of you.

"Yes, Joel. Please." Giving him the green light was all it took for him to line his cock up to your entrance, grabbing your hips as he slowly pushed himself into you.

You gasped at the sensation, gripping the comforter below your fingertips.

"You okay, baby?" Joel pauses his movements, rubbing circles into your hips. You wordlessly nod your head before he keeps pushing himself into you until he's completely buried in your warmth. The sight below him made him groan. You fit around him perfectly.

"Please move, Joel." You moaned, starting to rock your hips for some friction.

"My needy sweetheart." He chuckled before moving his hips back, snapping them forward with such force that it nearly knocked the breath out of you. You cried out, the tad bit of pain quickly being masked by the overwhelming sense of pleasure. Joel rocked his hips at a steady pace as you tried to move your hips back to meet each thrust he gave you.

The sounds you were eliciting from your throat nearly sounded unrecognizable. Never had you been so damn needy for someone in your life, and it drove you fucking insane.

You felt one of Joel's hands move from your hips, sliding up the front of your torso. He stopped to toy with one of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers. The sharp sensation went straight to the build-up of the white hot coil brewing in your core. He moved his hand from your breast and up to your throat, wrapping his hand around it. He squeezed the sides which elicited a loud moan from you.

Joel's unrelenting pace and hand wrapped around your throat had you rolling your eyes back. You could feel every vein and ridge of him inside of you, working to bring you to release. He was reaching spots inside you that you didn't even know could be reached—until today.

Joel coaxed you upwards so your back was pressed against his chest. He kept his hand wrapped around your throat as he gritted into your ear, "Tell me who you belong to." Joel growled, his primal side completely breaking through.

"Y-You, fuck, you, Joel. Only you." You whined. He let go of your throat and moved his hand down to your breast once again, squeezing it generously.

His other hand that had your hip in a near-death grip moved down to your swollen clit, rubbing it tenaciously. You cried out as you threw your head back onto his shoulder, your whole body shaking as your release neared.

"You like that, baby? Look at you, dirty fuckin' girl takin' my cock so well, hm?" Joel's voice was dangerously low in your ear as his pace started to falter. "C'mon baby, give it to me. L'me feel you. Fuck, angel, that's it." Joel coaxed, which was the finality that pushed you over the edge. You cried out loudly, whole body feeling like it was being ripped apart from the inside out in the most pleasuring way possible.

Joel was chasing his own orgasm as he thrusted up a few more times before stilling, wrapping both arms around your waist and burying his face into your neck as he came. He softly moaned your name into your ear, causing you to flutter around him once more. He sharply inhaled before kissing your neck a few times, gently setting you down on the bed before completely pulling out of you.

You completely collapsed onto his bed, body limp and entirely devoid from any movement. Joel plopped down next to you after he tossed the condom into the trash, pulling you into his chest as he gingerly kissed your forehead.

"Fuck, baby, that was incredible." Joel breathed, a chuckle prominent in his voice.

"It was. Didn't know you had it in ya, cowboy." You teased, fingers subconsciously tracing light patterns on his chest.

"Plenty more where that came from, darlin'." Joel ran his hand up and down your arm, kissing your forehead periodically. You don't know how long you two were laying there, but being in Joel's arms like that just gave you a sense of protection you never thought you'd be able to get in your life.

Joel was a noble, honest man. He was someone who was goofy, loving, reliable, and steady. Just what you needed in your seemingly hectic life. You knew he was it. Joel was the man for you. That four letter word you were terrified of not too long ago started circling your head, and this time, it didn't make you want to run. It made you get those stupid butterflies. It made you feel like a crazed teenager. It made you be aware that you'd never been so sure of anything in your entire life—

You were completely and irrevocably in love with Joel Miller.

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