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almostempty · 3 days ago

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right kind of dream (joel miller x f!reader) part two

wc: 9k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART ONE HERE summary: part two of 'right kind of dream': rebuilding your life, chasing, cans, and hitchin' a ride to the rodeo with team roper joel

a/n: i battled five million error messages to deliver this bad boy so if something is weird or it seems like paragraphs are missing... they might be. i think some formatting got lost. i'll put the whole thing on ao3 asap. i am unsure what i've done to anger the tumblr hq but i apologize

@katiexpunk : here is part two, thank you for being patient, i hope the wait was worth it <3 tags: modern cowboy joel au/ team roper joel and tommy, no sarah, enemies to lovers, dbf lite, choose your own age gap, small town romance, city girl returns to the country, miscommunication, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin' that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta-mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am and for spending the afternoon fighting god to get this website to accept me thanks to: @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, and @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, and ideas, etc.

Joel wakes you up while it’s still dark, pulling your shirt over your head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Sleep,” he mutters in a gravelly whisper.

The ache in your body is a stark reminder of everything Joel did to you. Every movement as you roll over sends a sharp jolt through your muscles, and the hollow soreness deep inside you leaves you raw.

For a moment, you lie still, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment—the way he touched you, the way he looked at you. You can still feel him, the shape he carved out inside of you.

He said nothing. He didn’t gloat, didn’t tease, didn’t even try to explain. The silence felt heavier than any of his words ever could.

You can hear him outside, feeding the horses. You give in, curling up under the blanket for another hour until you figure you might miss your chance for fresh coffee from the visitor tent.

You pull on clothes, feeling hungover with anxiety twisting in your gut. Your head spins and your chest feels tight, but you march toward the picnic tables and get yourself coffee and breakfast.

You aren’t sure what the fuck you’re supposed to do now. You sit at a table, a cup of coffee cradled in your hands, your head pounding as though you’d downed a bottle of whiskey the night before. The anxiety sits heavy in your chest, each sip of coffee doing little to loosen its grip.

You thought you understood what last night was—anger, frustration, both of you taking it out on each other. But the way Joel touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he stayed silent afterward… none of it fits the narrative you’ve been telling yourself.

You glance across the grounds, your eyes catching on Joel’s familiar silhouette near the fence. He’s leaning against the rail, his dark eyes scanning the crowd, but the moment his gaze lands on you, something shifts.

Your breath catches, the air between you thick and suffocating even from across the distance. Joel tips his head slightly, a subtle acknowledgment, but it only tightens the knot in your chest.

You tear your eyes away, focusing on the coffee in your hands, but the weight of his gaze lingers, pressing into you like a brand.

You keep your distance, avoiding Joel as you move through the motions of the morning ignoring the questions and confusion gnawing at you.

The sun climbs higher, the dry heat pressing down like a heavy blanket, but the rodeo grounds are alive with movement. Dust clings to the back of your throat, blending with the faint, bitter taste of coffee as you linger near the edge of the action, pretending to watch.

You’re halfway to convincing yourself Joel’s not even here when you hear Tommy’s voice. He’s leaning on the fence, one boot propped on the bottom rail, his arm resting loosely on the top. A beautiful woman stands beside him, gorgeous with bold makeup and tight jeans, her dark hair catching the light. She laughs at something Tommy says, swatting at his chest, and he grins down at her like she’s the only person in the world.

You almost keep walking, but Tommy glances up and catches your eye, his grin widening as he waves you over. He calls your name in an easy, smooth tone.

“Morning,” you say stiffly, stopping a few paces away.

The woman glances between you and Tommy, murmuring something to him before she wanders off toward the trailers. Tommy doesn’t miss a beat, tipping his hat to you with that same infuriating grin.

“You sleep alright?”

“What?” you gape at him before rushing to fix your face.

“Joel’s snoring didn’t keep you up all night?”

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No, slept fine. Thanks.”

He gives you another smile, and you move to lean on the fence watching the arena with him. He cocks his head, his eyes still on you.

“You worried about runnin’ Blue?” His voice is warm and light. His dark eyes sparkle with his natural charm, but it’s a genuine question.

You peel the edge of the paper coffee cup, looking past Tommy toward the warmup pen. “Yeah, I guess.” You give him a half smile. “We aren’t gunning for the NFR or anything, though.”

“Somethin’ else weighing on you, darlin’?”

You shake your head. Not willing to reveal anything else. “Heard you were up late partying with the roughstock boys and their fan club,” you accuse in a joking tone, attempting to redirect the conversation. “You aren’t worried about your own round?”

He laughs deeply at that. “Nah, that’s what a heeler’s for,” he says. “I just gotta be in the box on time. Joel’s the one that keeps us winnin’.”

“He’s not a partier?” You didn’t mean to dig, but the question slipped out anyway.

Tommy turns his head towards you, but you keep staring out at the arena, watching the crew setting up the barrels for the first division.

He studies you for a long moment, his grin softening into something closer to curiosity. “Joel’s not like me. Not really.” Your brow furrows. The words twist in your chest, setting your thoughts spinning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy chuckles again, but there’s something unreadable in his eyes. “Let’s just say, Joel’s always had his head screwed on tighter than mine. Even when he didn’t.” You stare at him, trying to unravel the meaning behind his words, but Tommy just grins. “Joel’s a loyal kinda guy, y’know? Don’t mean he’s blind, though.” He gives you a wink and you feel heat flooding your face. “Just means he wrestles with it longer than the rest of us would.” You scowl at him for that. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Did Joel tell him? Does he know what happened? He shrugs. “Just means you’re a hell of a distraction,” Tommy says, tipping his hat. You laugh it off, but his words linger, your mind racing with questions you’re not ready to ask. You whip your head away again as if staring at the tractor raking the arena can save you from the conversation. But Tommy notices.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tease or prod, but you can feel the weight of his gaze as you swallow hard, your thoughts spiraling. Before you can respond, someone calls his name from across the grounds. Tommy tips his hat one last time. “Good luck out there, neighbor,” he says, his voice light but laced with something heavier. “Don’t let that head of yours get in the way.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you standing alone, your thoughts spinning, your chest burning. You push off the fence and find yourself a spot on the bleachers. They’re dusty and worn. The boards creak as you settle into a spot near the edge. You watch the first few runs.

The riders move with precision, their horses cut through the dirt with sharp, clean turns. The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, calling names and times, but it fades into the background as you watch.

Everywhere you look, there’s something that reminds you of Joel.

The set of someone’s shoulders as they lean against the fence, the low timbre of a voice nearby, a black felt hat in the corner of your eye. You try to banish the worry and the panic creeping in.

You remember the way he watched you train with Blue. The way he offered advice that sounded more like a challenge. The way his voice cut through the air like he knew more than you. The way he looked at you last night. The raw unguarded expression you’ve never seen before.

You hate the way he makes you feel small and uncertain. You hate the way you can’t stop thinking about him.

You can’t stop remembering the way his hands felt on your skin or his tongue. The heat in his voice and the way he saw through every lie you told.

The sound of someone hitting the dirt makes you snap your head up just as the crowd around you gasps.

In the arena, a horse stands, saddle hanging nearly sideways off of it. A rider scrambles to their feet, brushing dirt from their jeans with a wave. They lead their horse out of the arena and you can hear folks around you murmuring that their latigo broke and their saddle slipped as they turned for home. The horse and the rider are both fine, but your nerves flare.

You know the risks of the sport. But it makes you head back to the trailer early to inspect all of your tack closely for anything faulty. From across the grounds, Joel watches you. He stands near the holding pen, arms crossed over his chest. You haven’t seen him yet. Not really. Not in the way he sees you.

He can feel the tension in your shoulders as you walk, the way you crush the paper coffee cup in your hand.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t call out to you.

He doesn’t trust himself to. He shouldn’t have touched you last night. Shouldn’t have let his jealousy boil over. Shouldn’t have taken it that far. But now, standing here, all he could think about was the way you felt underneath him. The way you said his name like he was the only thing holding you together. And the way he needs to hear it again.

By the time your division gets called to warm up, you’ve eased your worries about your tack but you’re still swimming in Joel thoughts until you swing your leg over the saddle and settle on Blue’s back.

Then the rest of the world disappears. Your ride starts off smooth, but Blue’s sensitivity is a curse and a blessing. You figure he must be picking up on some anxiety as he gets a little hot, tossing his head and pulling on the reins when you try to bring him down to a jog.

You work out most of the kinks, circling and working on transitions until he feels supple and responsive to your seat and legs. Your nerves and the energy of the other horses still have his ears swiveling and his head perked up as you wait for the rider ahead of you to be called.

You can see most of their run, it’s smooth and they put up a good time. You squeeze your calves asking Blue to head toward the alleyway, but he’s springloaded.

You hold him back as he crow hops sideways for a beat before you’re backing him up. You try making a slow circle before heading in but he’s still jigging with short, bouncy steps like he’s ready to explode.

You’re tense, holding him back and trying to stay calm, making one more circle when he starts hopping again. You can feel eyes on you from the people standing near the gate. Before you can make another circle Joel is striding towards you with swift long steps.

He grabs Blue by the bridle, speaking directly to him in a calming, low voice. You glare at him reactively, but the words die before you can formulate them.

Blue’s jittering slows and Joel leads you up the alley toward the arena. His steps are sure and confident as he guides you. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to snap at him and tell him you don’t need his help. The truth is you do.

“Go get ‘em,” he says quietly, turning to you.

You gather your reins, giving him a tight nod to signal you’re ready. He lets go and steps back. Your heart pounds as you encourage Blue to push off into a lope.

The moment you cross the starting line, everything else fades.

The noise. The nerves. Even Joel. It all melts away. Just you and Blue and the rhythm of his hooves pounding against the soft dirt.

The first barrel comes fast. You guide him into a tight turn, pushing him to pick it up toward the next. His lead change is smooth as you shift your weight, leaning into the next tight turn. You’ve got your body facing the final barrel before Blue pushes off with his powerful hind legs.

You thunder toward the last barrel. His strides are strong and controlled. You’ve just gotta make this last turn without taking it too wide or knocking the barrel over.

Blue doesn’t forget his training, bending around your leg, picking up his shoulder, and you’ve got one stride left in the turn before you’re free to haul ass home.

You’ve got this.

You don’t got this.

The footing is deeper than the arena you run at on Thursday nights. Blue’s hooves slide in the loose dirt. His balance faltering. Time slows and you feel his weight tipping. There’s nothing to do but brace for the impact. His body hits the dirt in a controlled, almost graceful fall.

You hit the ground with a dull thud, the breath knocked out of you as you scramble back giving Blue room to pop back up. He shakes off the dirt, your stirrups slapping at his side and the reins nearly coming over his ears. His eyes are wide, but he stands waiting for your direction.

You catch your breath, chest still heaving from the shock. You dust the dirt off your jeans and wave off the grounds person jogging toward you. “I’m fine,” you call. “We’re fine.” Your voice is steady, but your chest feels like it’s caving in.

You pull his reins over his head and walk toward the end of the arena, keeping your head up and patting Blue on the neck. The crowd claps expressing support and relief that you’re both walking.

Hot, angry tears blur your vision by the time you get to the alley.

You don’t see Joel, staring at the ground as you walk, but you hear him hustling toward you calling your name. His boots crunch against the dirt as he matches your pace.

“You okay?” he asks, low and concerned.”

“Fine,” you snap, not looking at him as you speed up, pulling Blue along faster.

“It was a good-looking run you had going,” Joel says, his tone soft. “You two looked great, making good time. You can’t help the shitty footing—”

“I don’t need your pity,” you cut him off, sharp but trembling. “Not now.”

You don’t see the way his face tightens. The anger is spilling out, uncontrollable, and you don’t care if it cuts.

“I’d rather the ‘I told you so,’” you spit, hot and bitter. “Just say it. Whatever it is. You think I’m too young to know what I’m doing? Too soft? You think I’m a failure? Couldn’t handle the city, the job, the—”

“Hey, easy.” He tries to interrupt you gently, like a spooked horse. “Nothing like that.”

“You think I’m dumb, too?” You keep jabbing him with questions as you get closer to the trailer, not caring if anyone else hears. “Just another woman that fell into your bed at another rodeo.”

“Enough,” Joel says steady and low, but you don’t hear him.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rumors,” you snap, your voice cracking. “Didn’t think they were true, to be honest. Didn’t seem like you. Guess I don’t really know you though, do I?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, his dark eyes flashing with hurt, but you’re too far gone to notice.

“You know, maybe I was stupid.” Your voice shakes as tie Blue at the trailer to untack. “But for a while, I thought I was finally starting to feel like myself out here. Like I was where I was supposed to be. And now—” Your words catch in your throat. Tears streaming down your face. You shake your head, stopping yourself from revealing anything else. You turn away from Joel and start running your hands along Blue’s legs to check for any swelling from the fall.

Joel doesn’t move for a long beat. He stands rigid, watching you wrestle with your emotions as you work. Finally, Joel exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. His voice is tight when he speaks. “I’ll leave you be.”

He walks away before you can respond, his footsteps heavy against the dirt. Your shoulders sag as the adrenaline starts to wear off, leaving behind the hollow ache of exhaustion. Your hands tremble as you finish untacking and brushing Blue, but you keep moving, your touch soft against his sweat-damp coat. “You did nothing wrong,” you murmur.

Fresh tears pool in your eyes. “You’re a good boy, Blue. You did exactly what we practiced.” Blue snorts softly, his ears flicking back toward you, and you lean into him, pressing your forehead against the warm curve of his neck. “I was the one who fucked up,” you admit, your words muffled against his dark coat. The truth spills out in quiet, broken pieces.

“I should’ve been watching the other riders closer this morning. Should’ve caught how deep the footing was at the far barrel.”

Your voice drops to a whisper. “Instead of thinking about how I could still feel his hands on me. Or wondering if he’s thinking about me.”

The confession hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken. Blue shifts beneath you, his weight leaning into your side like he knows you need the grounding.

You pull back, wiping at your face quickly before running your hands over Blue one more time, checking for any swelling or signs of injury. You move methodically, your touch steady despite the way your chest feels like it’s caving in.

When you’re satisfied he’s unhurt, you lead him into the pen and give him a scratch behind the ears. “You’re a good boy,” you whisper again, softly. “We’ll get it next time.”

The afternoon stretched on at the rodeo, the sun climbing high and unrelenting.

You do your best to avoid the temptation to look for Joel, though he somehow has a way of being everywhere and nowhere all at once. Mostly it was false alarms and your eyes playing tricks on you. But once or twice you saw him watching other events. He never seemed to notice you, or if he did he gave no indication.

You hadn’t decided if you were avoiding him out of anger, shame, or if it was because the thought of being near him again after last night still made your chest ache in a way you didn’t want to examine. You’re still burying that last thought somewhere deep when you catch the flash of Joel’s red mare striding through the arena.

You can see Joel and Tommy putting their horses through some practice just past the main arena.

Your lips press together into a thin line as you watch them. Joel has a different aura about him when he’s in the saddle. He seems lighter somehow. Relaxed, but with a quiet command. He guides his horse in a way that looks effortless. His body moving in perfect harmony with hers. Tommy’s horse was a little snappier, making quick sharp turns. The pair of riders worked together naturally, movements fluid and precise as they get their practice in.

It was mesmerizing. Infuriatingly so.

You leaned back, trying to tear your gaze away, but your eyes betrayed you, drawn back to continue admiring him. The longer you watch the more it stirs up something unwelcome in your chest. You can’t keep letting him occupy so much space in your mind or your memories.

He’s proven time and again that he doesn’t respect you. He didn’t even argue when you laid it all out in your outburst after your run. He just walked away from you.

But there’s something in the way he carries himself. Something in the way he rides, the way he works with his horse, that hints at something different than what you know. Something that makes you curious.

You blink, realizing Joel’s head was turned toward the bleachers. For a second you think his eyes are on you and you quickly look away. When you glance back he’s already turned his attention back to something else.

Embarrassment wraps around your throat. This is why you had to avoid him. His presence alone seems to demand every ounce of your attention without even trying.

Before you can drown in your own emotional turmoil, an unfamiliar voice calls your name.

You see Cody waving a few rows down and give him a polite smile before agreeing to join him and his friends. Spending the rest of the evening with them feels like a safety buffer.

You don’t see Joel or Tommy when you get dinner. You watch some of the evening events before splitting from the group to check on Blue.

It’s nearly dark as you walk through the grounds. Your chest feels tighter with every step you take as you approach.

You’re hoping you don’t run into Joel—or Tommy and his knowing eyes. You let yourself into the pen, the noise from the announcer and the crowd are muffled by the distance.

There was a stillness in the dusk and the horses were calm.

Blue’s head swivels toward you as you approach. You pause to untie the braid in his tail before stepping between him and Joel’s horse. It’s not until that moment that you realize you aren’t alone. You freeze when your eyes land on Joel. He’s standing between his horse and yours, posture relaxed. The external light on the horse trailer casts shadows over his face making it hard to read his eyes.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say softly. “I didn’t know you were here.”

He responds with a small shrug and shake of his head. “Nothing to interrupt.”

You still feel frozen, like concrete had been poured around your feet. You’ve been carrying the weight of your earlier outburst in your shoulders, and the rest of your muscles are still stiff from hitting the dirt earlier. Maybe that’s why your defenses feel lower, or maybe something else has shifted, but the next words come out before you have a real plan.

“Look, about earlier,” you start with more confidence than you feel. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It wasn’t fair.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, gaze fixed on Blue who huffs a warm breath out after nudging Joel’s pocket in search of a treat. When he finally speaks, it’s quiet but firm.

“You had every right to be upset.”

You frown at that, a line pulling between your brows in confusion, and you shake your head. “No, I didn’t. I was angry, frustrated with myself, and I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

He works his jaw like he’s mulling something over, before letting out a sigh. You move closer to give Blue a scratch under his jaw. The spot that always makes him wiggle his lip. You see Joel’s expression softening.

“I’ve been where you are,” he says finally. “Trying to rebuild somethin’ when it feels like the world’s stacked against you. Trying to remember who you are. What matters most.”

You tilt your head, curiosity pulling at you. His words sound familiar for a moment. That conversation you’d had after stacking hay. “When you bought the property from my dad?”

He nods. “Bought the place after my ex split. Had to sell the business. Start over. Build somethin’ from scratch while trying to figure out what the hell my life was supposed to look like.”

“It’s not as simple as it sounds,” you echo your past statement. He laughs a short, humorless sound.

“Sure ain’t. I know I made mistakes along the way.”

You stay quiet, letting the words hang in the air.

“It’s easy to get yourself a reputation in a small town,” he continues, tinged with regret. “I spent a while chasing somethin’ I couldn’t even name. Thought I could skip the pain with sex, drinking, and spending every weekend hauling to any rodeo I could afford the entrance fees for.”

His confession sinks over you, and you feel a pang of understanding.

“Took a while to figure it that it wasn’t working. Wasn’t who I was… or who I wanted to be.”

“I get that,” you say softly. You drop your gaze, not quite sure how to say it. “Not the same circumstances, but,” you take a slow breath, “I had a reputation back at my old job. It wasn’t true but it didn’t matter. Once people decide who you are, it’s like there’s nothing you can do to change it.

You feel his eyes on you. “That why you came out here?”

“Sort of.” You run your hand under Blue’s mane, feeling the warmth of his body grounding you.

“Hated the job. Spent a lot of time and money in school to get there, and I dreaded going to the office every day.” You swallow thickly, still not sure you can look Joel in the eye.

“Then my engagement fell apart. The more we tried to split up our lives the more I realized none of it was my life. None of it was me. I didn’t know myself anymore. I didn’t know what mattered.”

“Takes guts to start over,” Joel says with a current of finality about it. Like it’s a fact. “Most people wouldn’t have the nerve.”

His words warm something deep inside of you, but they also make your eyes well up. You blink away the tears before you look to Joel’s face. His eyes are steady on yours. You offer a small smile.

“Feels less like guts and more like desperation most of the time.”

Joel looks sincere, firm. “Desperation’s just another word for fightin’ for what you need.”

A heavy lump in your throat makes it difficult to respond, but you push yourself to be vulnerable. “I came out here to figure myself out and to do it on my own. I wanted to prove it to myself. But, then today, I got so caught up in my own head that I almost got us both hurt.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” he says quietly.

“I should’ve been paying better attention. Should’ve asked the other riders about the footing. Or—” your voice cracks and you pause to slow down your spiraling thoughts.

Joel moves closer, his presence solid. Anchoring. “You’re hard on yourself,” he says it soft, but firm. “You’ve got grit. You work your ass off. That’s what matters.”

You look up at him. Feeling exposed, like you’re holding the ugliest parts of you in your palms for him to see. “You think so?”

“I know so. I see you. The way you handle Blue, the balance you strike with your dad, the way you work twice as hard as most folks at a part-time job and still have time to learn the names of every old farmer in 50 miles that comes in once a month.”

You laugh at that, feeling something warm blooming in your chest. His eyes soften, and you’re drawn to the lines on his face.

“I’ve seen the way you push yourself even when you’re tired, the way you’re determined to bring out the best in yourself and others. Even those of us with a history.” He runs his hand along the scar tissue on Blue’s shoulder. The horse that broke a girl’s jaw.

“You’re tougher than most people I know. And contrary to what you think, I respect the hell outta you for it.”

His words hit harder than you expect, and you feel like your ribs have been pulled open, exposing your heart and soul in the moonlight.

You’ve spent so long chasing your own impossible standards.

Fighting for your dad’s stoic approval. Suffocating under the weight of other people’s judgment.

Hearing Joel’s praise feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders.

“Joel,” you start, but your voice falters. The way he’s looking at you feels intense. Almost too much. You can feel your heart beating against your chest.

He shifts, his hand brushing yours lightly, and the air between you feels thick. “Took me a long time to learn how to ask for help or accept it. Still ain’t perfect at it neither,” it comes out like a confession. “But there’s nothing weak about it. And there’s nothin’ more attractive than a woman who’s not afraid to try, fail, and try again.”

The slip in his voice–the raw, unguarded admiration–sends a flush of heat through you. Shit. The praise was already overwhelming, but the way he’s looking at you now—it’s too much. Or not enough.

His centering presence somehow has you rocked off balance.

Suddenly you’re closer, the space between you charged. Humming like one of the generators at the other campsites.

His hand brushes your cheek, gentle but deliberate. Your breath catches in your throat. Everything that has been simmering between you feels like it’s about to boil over.

The rest of the rodeo disappears. Standing there in the moonlight, the world around you dissolves into quiet, only his gravity pulling you closer.

Joel’s hand lingers just long enough on your cheek to make heat crawl up your neck and coil in your belly. Before you can close the distance he pulls back, clearing his throat and stepping away. He moves slowly and deliberately, giving you space to retreat if you want to.

But you don’t.

Instead, you follow him out of the pen, your feet carrying you toward the trailer without thought.

The silence between you is loud, not uncomfortable but full of unspoken words and feelings, each step drawing you toward something you haven’t named yet. When he opens the door and gestures for you to step inside, the creak of the hinges feels impossibly loud.

Inside, the trailer is layered in soft shadows from the glow of a warm lamp. Joel closes the door behind you, and the quiet feels delicate. He stands a few paces away, his hat in hand, his eyes scanning your face as though searching for any sign of doubt.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and careful.

When you find your voice, it’s softer than you expected. “Yeah.”

The corners of his mouth lift just slightly, and the warmth in his eyes eases some of the nervous energy bouncing around in your chest. He hangs his hat on the hook near the door. The image of him reaching past you to hang it on the same hook last night flares in your mind and buzzes through your skin.

His movements are unhurried. He steps closer to you. He’s so large in the small space. Not intimidating, but stabilizing.

“Earlier,” he begins, “when I said I respect the hell outta you… I meant it.”

He takes your hand in his, his fingers warm and solid. Your senses are heightened from the emotionally raw conversation, from his touch, and the warm, spiced scent of him wrapping around you. “I see how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve sacrificed to be here. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with awe.

“And you’ve got no idea how much I—”

He cuts himself off, searching your face. His breath is warm, so close to your face. His lips look soft, so close to yours.

You close the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that’s nothing like the night before. It’s tender. Slow. Sprawling. Unspoken affection passes between you with the slip of your tongues and the soft sounds in your throat.

Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, every thought and worry dissolving into the sensation of your lips on his. Softer than he ever let himself imagine, a sweetness he didn’t think he deserved. The warmth of you seeps into him, steadying him even as it sends electricity down his spine.

His hand settles on your waist, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. There’s no resistance. You’re pliable and willing. He moves with you naturally, like your mouths were always meant to find each other. He holds you like you’re a treasure, a prize, a wonder. Precious.

So soft, he thinks, his thumb grazing the curve of your waist. Every inch of you pressed against him feels like fire and solace all at once. His other hand roams over your back, the delicate shift of muscle beneath his palm grounding him in the reality that you’re here, with him.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, but there’s no space left between you. His palm glides down your spine, lighting you from within. When you break apart, softly breathing in each other’s air, his forehead rests against yours, eyes dark and soft as they hold your gaze.

“You have no idea how much I crave this. Crave you. In every way.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. The reverence in his tone makes your cheeks flush with warmth, and you can’t help but smile.

“I might have some idea,” you reply, your voice just as quiet, but your smile grows wider.

Then he kisses you again, this time with more urgency, his hands moving to your hips and guiding you toward the bed. His touch is everywhere, his lips tracing a path from your mouth to your jaw, down the curve of your neck, each kiss making you feel lighter and warmer.

He continues to pour his confessions into your skin between each article of clothing he pulls off of you. "I thought I’d never have this. Never have you. But here you are, and you’re perfect." The words spill out of him unbidden, each one carrying a weight he’s carried for far too long. His hands tremble slightly as he leaves a wet trail of kisses down your clavicle, between the swell of your breasts, over the smooth fabric of your bra.

"I used to hate that I wanted you, that I thought about having you like this. But I don’t want to stop, sweetheart.” He unclasps your bra and slips the straps over your shoulders, replacing the cups with his palms, kneading your plush flesh. The warmth of your skin beneath his hands sends sparks through him, and he leans in, brushing his lips over the sensitive peaks.

“Don’t want you to stop,” you murmur back. He hums in response to you, rolling your nipples between his fingers before taking his time mouthing, sucking, licking at each of them until you moan and arch toward him.

“I spent too many nights trying not to think about you,” he confesses, his voice dipping lower. “And cursing myself for it.” He shifts down, between your legs to pull your jeans off. It feels like he’s just handed you a piece of himself you didn’t expect to see. The idea of him, alone and thinking about you, shifts something in your mind. It’s not just desire he carries for you. Is it something deeper?

He runs his hands along your bare legs, warm against your smooth skin. He already looks wrecked and he’s still fully clothed. You reach for him, but he shakes his head, dipping to line another path of kisses down your belly, to the sensitive skin inside the top of your thighs. His lips press against your skin, reverent, as if trying to memorize the feel of you beneath him.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with need. His admiration and desire are intense, making you feel stripped bare in an emotional way. He’s not just saying it; he means it in a way that feels different from casual compliments.

Everything you use to protect yourself falls away as you let his words soak in. You couldn’t hide from him if you wanted to. He’s not just taking—he’s giving, pouring every ounce of admiration and desire he feels for you into each moment. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself take it in, let yourself believe it.

The heat of his touch and the need in his eyes have your core aching for attention. His breath ghosting over your swollen cunt makes you shudder with need.

When his lips press against the thin fabric still covering you, you arch into him. You feel him smile against you, breathing deeply before he slides his hands beneath your thighs, cupping your ass to tilt your hips before he descends again.

He kisses and sucks at your clit through your soaked panties without a care for the lewd sounds filling the small room. He doesn’t stop. It’s warm and wet, and the pressure makes you feel needy. You roll your hips seeking more contact, and he moans against you, the sound vibrating through you causing you to gasp and call out his name.

He looks up at you before pulling your underwear off and pausing to stare at your glistening cunt, before taking all of you in. His eyes dart to your face, all of your exposed skin, and back to your eyes.

“I never thought I’d actually get to touch you. To kiss you. Taste you like this.” His voice is hoarse, barely audible over the sound of your breath.

“Please, Joel.” He’s like a dream between your legs. His mouth, his tongue, his hands, his fingers. He uses everything with expert precision, bringing you closer and closer and erasing every worry, every stress.

You wonder if you should feel more vulnerable being naked beneath him while he’s still fully clothed. But instead, it feels empowering—like this moment belongs to you just as much as it does to him; like every touch and kiss is a promise steeped in devotion.

His hips press into the mattress involuntarily, seeking relief for his throbbing cock as he continues to worship you with his mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair as he dips his tongue inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” Your voice is hoarse and ragged already.

He knows exactly what you need next. Filling you with his fingers while he wraps his lips over your clit. The wet noises of his fingers pumping into you are obscene-–but they're nothing compared to the moan you make when you see the way his hips are desperately rutting into the mattress between your legs.

The sight of him losing control, his own need so evident and unrestrained, sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He’s giving so much of himself to you with every movement. It’s not just his mouth or his hands—it’s the way he wants you, completely and utterly, like he’s been holding it back for ages.

It tips you over the edge, chanting his name like a prayer as your release crashes through you. Your walls contract around his fingers and your muscles tense as he groans into your wet flesh before pulling back.

“That’s it,” he murmurs from between your legs, “you did good for me, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You’re boneless as the words melt into you. But you know you wanted to say something before he made your vision blur.

Your breath comes in slow, uneven waves as you blink at the ceiling, reality slowly settling back into your body. He’s watching you, his eyes dark and heavy with affection and need, and you realize the thought that had slipped away moments ago was this: you need to feel him, to see him.

“Joel,” you manage, your voice low and hoarse, your fingers brushing weakly at his forearm. He raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips as he leans closer.

“What is it, baby?”

You swallow hard, the words tangled in your throat as you try to gather your strength. “Off,” you rasp, fingers tugging weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leans down to kiss your temple. “Gimme a minute, sweetheart. Let me make sure you’re all right first.”

Your head shakes slightly, determination building even in your post-release haze. “Joel. Now.”

Something in your voice snaps the tension in him. His jaw tightens, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt in one smooth motion, tugging it over his head.

The sight of him leaves you breathless. Broad shoulders tapering to a firm waist, his skin golden and littered with scars and years of hard work. He looks wrecked, his chest rising and falling as though he’s been holding himself back for too long.

“Goddamn,” you whisper, as your mouth hangs open. Your gaze drops lower, taking in the soft lines of his abdomen, and the trail of dark hair leading to the waistband of his jeans.

And then, as he unbuttons them and pushes them down, his cock springs free, thick and flushed and so fucking perfect it sends a scalding wave of desire rolling through you.

You’re expression fills Joel with pride. The hunger in your eyes makes his cock twitch, the intensity of your gaze threatening to knock him over right there.

You sit up slightly, your hand reaching for him, but he catches your wrist gently, shaking his head. “Not like that,” he murmurs, his voice rough as gravel. He eases you back onto the mattress, his hands warm and firm against your hips. “Not this time, baby.”

You whine softly, your need pulsing through every word. “Please, fuck, I need you.”

His pupils blow wide, his breathing uneven as he settles between your legs. “You need me?” he repeats, his tone darkening, the words laced with a feral edge that makes you dizzy.

“You’re gonna get me, baby. All of me. Gonna fill you so deep you’ll never forget it.”

The shift in his tone sends a fresh rush of slick between your thighs. His hand trails up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast as he watches you.

“Gonna make you mine. Gonna keep you so full of me you’ll feel it in you every time you move.”

The possessiveness in his voice makes your body burn, your hips rocking up toward him involuntarily. “Joel, please,” you beg, your voice raw and edged with frustration as he drags the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing you.

“Fuck,” he pauses after barely pushing into you. His eyes slam shut for a moment before he inches deeper into you, slower than you thought possible. “You take me like it’s what you’re meant for.” His eyes stay locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face.

You gasp as he reaches the deepest part of you, his hips flush against yours, his cock filling you completely. “Look at you,” he coos. “Such a good girl for me.” The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve ending sparking to life as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust.

“Feel that?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna stay, sweetheart. Right here, fillin’ you up.”

Your walls flutter around him, your body already begging for more. “Joel,” you whisper, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Move. Please.”

He obliges, his hips pulling back before driving forward again, dragging out the intensity of every sensation. His forehead drops to yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispers praise between each movement. “You’re so good for me, baby. So damn good.”

Your body writhes beneath him, the pleasure building with each heavy stroke. “More,” you whisper. “Please, Joel. I need more.”

The last of his restraint dissolves as he grips your hips and begins to move harder, faster, his cock hitting so deep you swear you can feel it everywhere. The pace steals the breath from your lungs, threatening to consume you.

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice rough and unrestrained. “Take it. All of me.”

Your cries fill the air, his name falling from your lips over and over. His hands hold you steady, keeping you exactly where he wants you as he claims you.

“Look at you,” he rasps, his gaze locked on the spot where your bodies meet, where his cock disappears every time he sinks into you. “So perfect, takin’ me so well. Made for this. Made for me.”

You watch, as he instructed, until you look back up to his face. He’s so vocal, so confident with every word—but his face is equal parts hungry and wrecked. Fucked out. Drunk on you.

Again it’s the deep satisfaction you get from his unrestrained desire that makes you come with a blinding intensity. You try to tell him how close you are before you’re violently sucked into the sensations.

Your walls clench around him, making him shudder and groan. You try to beg him to come too. To fill you up. You’re unsure if the words make it past your thoughts, but he’s pulled into it with you either way.

Moments later, a deep groan vibrates through his chest as he tenses and his hips jerk against you. It feels like bliss, the sensation of his cock pulsing within you, the heat of his release coating your walls as they flutter around him.

The room falls into a warm quiet, the only sounds are your ragged breaths and the faint sounds of people laughing and shouting at another campsite, reminding you the rest of the world still exists.

Joel’s weight presses into you, grounding you in the present. He doesn’t pull away, softening inside of you as you breathe through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Just stay with me.”

He shifts you both just enough to hold tight against his chest, his lips brushing your temple as his hand smooths down your side. “So good,” he murmurs, “so perfect,” voice rough but soft in a way that makes your chest ache.

The early morning sun stretches over the rodeo grounds, bathing everything in a wash of pink hues. You wake to the soft hum of voices outside the trailer and the thud of a bale of hay being dropped just outside the trailer.

Joel’s weight shifts beside you as he stirs, his arm tightening around your waist for a moment before he lets out a soft, sleepy grunt. The sound pulls a smile to your lips as you turn to face him. His eyes blink open slowly, still heavy with sleep, and he offers you a lazy smile that you mirror involuntarily.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and low.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your fingers brushing over his stubbled jaw.

There’s a content silence between you before a loud knock rattles the trailer door, making you both jump. Tommy’s voice rings out cheerfully, "Y’all better get movin’ if you don’t wanna miss breakfast."

Joel groans, dropping his head back against the pillow with a dramatic sigh. "That boy’s got the worst damn timing."

You stifle a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before sliding out of bed to get dressed. Joel watches you for a moment, his gaze warm and unguarded, before he stretches and follows suit.

The three of you sit at a picnic table near the cook tent, balancing plates of eggs, bacon, and biscuits as the camp buzzes with early morning energy. Joel sits across from you, his knee brushing yours under the table. You catch him watching you over the rim of his coffee cup, his lips twitching into a barely concealed smile when your eyes meet.

Tommy, oblivious as ever, chatters on about their schedule and the competition, occasionally tossing in jokes that have you laughing despite yourself. Joel leans back in his seat, his body language is relaxed but his eyes are constantly flicking to you.

When Tommy excuses himself to check on their horses, Joel leans forward, his voice low and teasing. “You’re not real subtle, you know.”

You shoot him a mock glare, your cheeks warming. “Says the man who’s been staring at me all morning.”

“Can’t help it.” Joel shrugs.

Later, you find yourself perched on the edge of a fence near the arena, watching Joel and Tommy warm up their horses. Their movements are fluid and synchronized; you openly admire their skill.

Tommy tips his hat to you with a grin as they pass, and you wave back, your gaze inevitably drifting back to Joel. He glances your way, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small, private smile that makes your heart skip.

The arena is alive with energy as their division gets underway. You lean against the rail, your fingers gripping the cool metal as you watch Joel and Tommy back their horses into the box.

The chute gate flies open, the steer bolting into the arena with Joel and Tommy in swift pursuit. Joel’s rope swings in a perfect arc, catching the steer cleanly around the horns as Tommy moves in to secure the heels. The crowd cheers as they pull the steer to a stop, their time flashing on the scoreboard.

The announcer calls their time and updates the standings. Joel and Tommy have the best time in their division so far.

You can’t help but cheer, your voice lost in the noise of the crowd as Joel and Tommy ride back toward the holding pen, their smiles wide and triumphant. Joel catches your eye as he passes, tipping his hat to you with a grin that makes your stomach flutter.

When they dismount near the gate, you meet them with a smile. "You two make that look way too easy."

Tommy laughs. "He’s the header," he tilts his head toward Joel. “I can’t do shit if he misses.”

Joel shakes his head, deflecting the comment.

“It’s a team event,” you counter. “Both of you are good at what you do.”

“We should bring her with us more often,” Tommy jokes.

Joel gives you another warm look with unspoken words.

“Your head wouldn’t fit in your damn hat if you had someone talking you up after every run,” Joel mocks. As they both swing their legs over the back of their saddles. You turn to watch as they lead their horses back to the trailer. You want to follow and stay close to Joel for the rest of the day, but you stay put.

Trying not to let Tommy in on whatever’s happening between the two of you until you figure it out for yourself. Instead, you head back to the fence to watch the next pair of team ropers. You’d rather be near him, but staying put feels safer—for now.

The afternoon sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the rodeo grounds. You sit beside Joel on the bleachers, the two of you a quiet bubble of calm amid the hum of spectators around you. The events continue below—tie-down ropers hopping into the dirt, saddle bronc riders gripping for dear life trying to stick it out for eight seconds, bareback riders up next.

Joel leans back, one arm draped across the bench behind you, his body close enough that the heat of him radiates against your side. He’s quiet, but his presence feels steady and grounding. Every so often, his knee brushes yours, the brief contact enough to send a subtle thrill through you.

“You doin’ all right?” Joel asks, his voice low and soft. His gaze lingers on you, dark eyes warm but searching.

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “This is nice. I didn’t think I’d enjoy just sitting and watching this much.”

“It’s better when you’ve got good company,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile.

Your cheeks warm, but you’re spared from responding by the announcer introducing the next rider. Joel shifts beside you, his attention briefly pulled to the arena. You let yourself steal a glance at him—the sharp line of his jaw and the quiet confidence in his posture. He catches you looking and tips his hat, the subtle smirk that follows sending warmth blooming in your chest.

As the next rider lines up, Joel pulls his hat off, setting it on your lap. You blink, startled, and look at him.

“Put it on,” he says simply, his tone casual, but there’s something in his eyes—a quiet intensity that makes your breath hitch.

You hesitate for only a moment before lifting the Stetson and settling it on your head. It’s big, a little too big, but it smells faintly of leather and him. Joel’s gaze lingers on you, his lips curving into a soft smile that feels like it’s meant just for you.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

The weight of the gesture settles over you—the tradition, the meaning behind it. The thought that this wasn’t just a playful gesture but a quiet claim sends a flutter through your chest. You’re not sure what to say, so you lean into his side slightly, letting the moment and the warmth of him settle over you like a blanket.

Later, as the afternoon begins to mellow, Joel takes your hand and guides you to the cook tent for dinner. It feels almost natural to walk hand in hand, weaving through the crowd of people. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air, mingling with the sounds of quiet conversations and laughter from the other riders and their families.

Joel insists on getting your plate, waving you off with a playful, “Sit tight. I’ll take care of you.” You settle at a nearby table, watching as he weaves through the crowd with ease, stopping to exchange a word or two with acquaintances before returning with two heaping plates.

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, sharing quiet conversation. Joel’s small acts of service don’t go unnoticed—handing you a napkin before you realize you need one, making sure your drink stays full, brushing crumbs off your sleeve with a casual intimacy that feels like it’s always been there.

For a moment, it’s easy to forget you’re at a rodeo. The noise and bustle fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a comfortable bubble of companionship. Joel’s low chuckle as you tell him a story about your first job, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the warmth in his voice when he says your name—it all feels so natural, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

As the sun begins to dip lower, casting a golden glow across the grounds, Joel stands and offers you his hand. “Come on,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “Let’s find a good spot for the bull riders. We can cheer for your new friend.”

You expect to see something flare in his eyes bringing up Cody, reminding you of the way he looked at you the first night you came back to the trailer. But, you take his hand and he’s only projecting pride and confidence. It makes you stand taller, knowing he’s a secure man.

He leads you back toward the bleachers. The two of you settle in as the crowd starts to gather, the energy of the evening event buzzing around you. Joel drapes his arm casually along the back of the bench again, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder. It’s a small gesture, but it grounds you, making you feel like you’re exactly where you belong.

Tommy and the woman you’ve seen him spending most of the weekend with join you to watch a few rounds. You tense as they come toward the steps, shifting to create space between you and Joel, trying to seem casual. You feel Joel’s eyes on you, but he doesn’t say anything about your move.

Tommy shoots you a wink before they take the seats next to you. It makes you squirm, but you tell yourself he’s always just playful like that. Too charming for his own good.

They stay and chat long enough to finish their drinks before heading back to watch the rest of the event with her group of friends.

Joel stays seated beside you, his arm still draped casually along the back of the bench, his other hand resting on his thigh. There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that feels like its own kind of conversation.

Finally, Joel clears his throat, turning slightly to face you. There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with something earnest and determined.

“I know this might be the wrong time to bring this up,” he begins, commanding your attention just with the timbre of his voice pulling at your heart, “but I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding about where I’m at.”

You tilt your head, curiosity piqued. “Where you’re at?”

He nods, his gaze holding yours. “Look, I know your dad’s a good man, and I don’t want to cross any lines. But I also don’t want to miss my chance with you.” He pauses, his hand brushing against yours where it rests on your lap. “I don’t want this to be our only day together, and I won’t have you sneakin’ out your bedroom window and hoppin’ the fence to see me. S’just not the kind of man I am.”

Your heart stutters as his words sink in. There’s no wavering in his voice, no attempt to downplay what he’s saying. He’s laying it out plainly, his honesty disarming in a way you didn’t expect.

“So what are you saying?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He takes a deep breath, his hand shifting to fully cover yours. “I’m sayin’ I want something real with you. Not just sneakin’ moments or pretendin’ it don’t matter. I want to see where this goes.”

Your chest swells. You nod slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.” Relief washes over his face, and he leans close to you.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Well, if you’re such a true-blue cowboy, you’re gonna have to be the one to tell my dad.”

Joel nods. “I’ll handle it.” His voice is quieter, but honest. His gaze seems to look a little far away.

You squeeze his hand. “We’ll handle it.” You give him an encouraging smile. “Don’t have to do everything by ourselves right?”

He gives you a warm look. “Right.” He dips toward you for a chaste kiss. It’s sweet and playful. “Just don’t make me wait too long to take you out proper,” he rumbles as he pulls his head back.

You laugh airily, leaning into his side as he pulls you closer. The warmth of his arm around you, the weight of his hat still on your head, and the quiet promise of what’s to come settle over you, the world around you fading into a comfortable hum of possibilities for you and your cowboy Joel.

thank you for reading! pls let me know what you think <3

dividers by @/saradika-graphics tags for babes in case they want some cowboy joel: @lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed

@bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld

#pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift24 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #cowboy!joel miller

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apomaro-mellow · 2 days ago

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Steddie Bingo Prompt: Switching

@spectrum-spectre asked for this one

Steve's brow furrowed as he focused on his task. He couldn't believe he got to do this. Couldn't believe that he got to see Eddie like this. Strung out and moaning as his cock. He’d been wanting it all night. From the moment Eddie stepped foot through the door and started to pass his wares around. The boys loved him once they got used to how weird he was. He was like a beloved dog to the brothers of Steve’s frat.

And after they were done giving him pets (in the form of high-fives), Eddie went upstairs with him to get his bone.

Eddie clawed at the sheets of the bed. One that had seen many a sorority girl in this house’s history. Steve groaned as he watched his cock sink in and pull out. The way Eddie took it, arching his back. Moaning for the whole house to hear if they weren’t blasting music. Sometimes he wondered if Eddie would be just as loud if they fucked in front of everyone. When he blew his load into him, Eddie cried into the pillow by his face.

Better than any fucking fleshlight he’d ever had.

“Does it really feel that good?”, Steve asked as they were coming down together, passing a joint back and forth.

“Feels like fucking heaven, dude”, Eddie said, laying on his front. He took a long, slow drag.

Steve’s eyes were glued to him. To every part of him. His long fingers, his pink lips, his hair spilling across the pillow and the line of his back. He realized he’d been staring for too long when his eyes met Eddie’s and he saw that knowing smirk on his face.

“I can see the cogs turning in that head of yours. Care to share with the class?”

Steve shrugged, then looked up at the ceiling. “Does it really feel that good?”, he asked again.

When he looked back at Eddie, he saw that familiar grin on his face. When it was turned on him, it usually came before wild ideas like hot sauce chugging, barrel races, and them fucking for the first time.

“You wanna try it out?”

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

Steve was on his back, his hole having already been lubed up and stretched by Eddie’s fingers and against all odds, he was hard again. Eddie wasn’t grinning at him anymore, no he was smiling. Something warm and this felt different from their usual fucking. Eddie held his legs apart as he sunk in, carefully and slowly. Steve’s chest rose and fell and Eddie’s hands were drawn to his pecs.

“Feel good, man?”

“Feels good, holy shit”, Steve’s eyes screwed shut.

Eddie’s grin returned then, one that felt almost devilish. “Good. Get ready, baby.”

A couple of guys walked by the bedroom, carrying a keg together. This far from the music, they could hear the bed moving and someone’s breathy whimpers along with what was obviously the sound of ball-slapping good sex. They both beamed at each other.

“Dude, Harrington’s getting his back blown out!”

“Dude! Finally!”

They high fived each other before continuing on their way to share the good news.

@steddiebingo

Bingo card:

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #this is a very sex positive frat

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shashapato · 3 days ago

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Nevermore High School AU

For @cerealman ‘s 🤫🤫🤫🤫…secret santa present…��🤫😬

(Merry Christmas!!!! Hoping this will make your day!!!)

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Lenore is a huge chemistry lover. She and Duke would be neutralising acids and bases at the back of the classroom then betting a ridiculous amount of money that the other won’t drink it. (Pluto has just given up stopping them and just began quietly handing Duke whatever he needs while half-listening to the lecture half-trying to make sure his friends don’t die.)

The misfits (COUGH COUGH Lenore COUGH) have probably set a fire by accident while teasing each other. 🥰 They all got in trouble.

Berenice wants to see blood under the microscope, but uhhhh, no one wants her cutting herself (or someone else).

Eulalie refuses to do dissections. FROGS ARE FRIENDS.

Prospero and Annabel make the BEST notes and Ada is begging for them at the end of class. (Annie gives it, of course.)

Will takes notes for Monty, and when desperate, Ada asks (DEMANDS) for them. (Will says no. 🥰)

No, but Prospero would wash his hands maybe ten times when in the lab, whether it’s touching chemicals or organs or anything. (Germaphobia, yes. 😭)

Montresor is OBSESSED with dissections. He finds it super fascinating and of course, loves feeling mushy organs and blood on his hands. (When Prospero is paired with him, he forces Monty to wash his hands.)

Dodgeball when it’s boys vs girls, Lenore is protecting all the shy unathletic girls from getting hit, becoming a sort of ‘saviour’. All of them fall heads over heels for her. 😔

Berenice and Lenore are the power duo.

Duke and Pluto WISHES they could be half as good bruh.

Eulalie looks like she’s unathletic, but she is FAST.

Annabel insists she shouldn’t play dodgeball because her nails will get in the way. (She tosses a ball at Monty’s head later for being misogynistic about that.)

Ada in PE is WILD. She and Will are the most competitive unathletic goblins ever. While Will uses his thin stature to sneak around opponents, Ada straight up tackles him, using the excuse “Oh, but we’re playing football, aren’t we?” “Not American football, god’s sake!!!”

I’m sorry, but Monty playing football (idc which football) AHHHHHH. He and Will joined the school team together of course. (William Wilson only joined to be in the changing room with Monty.)

Morella is Ada’s personal shield, because Ada has ZERO awareness of her surroundings when she’s focused. Morella has to run and block balls from hitting her.

Annabel in English class writing ramblings about how much she loves Lenore, but plays it off as only ‘fiction’. (I’ve done that once, IT WORKS!!!)

Lenore takes French so she could communicate with Duke in secret. Pluto attempted to, but backed out after a few failed exams.

Pluto now takes Japanese and Eulalie is his tutor. 😔

Monty is the kind to refuse to learn any language other than English, because it’s the ‘superior language’. (He takes German lol, I can see him speaking German...but like he knows only random words and shouts them to feel smart.)

Ada sucks at foreign languages, but thinks she is fluent. She’s the student that yells out answers with the strangest accent. 😭

Ada and Monty are the couple that’s ALWAYS kissing, but they broke up like ten times then got back together so everyone’s just confused.

Annabel and Lenore pass notes in class and when asked to read it out, Lenore EATS THE PAPER.

Poor Will tries to make friends and always fail.

Duke and Pluto are the gayest ‘straight guys’. (People assume they’re straight, but… 👀)

Eulalie is the weird kid that when you get to know becomes your best friend.

Merry and Mourn are kind of the weird teachers. 😭 They give you detention for no reason and can be strict.

Anygays, thank you! :DDD This has been fun!!!

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brunette-gremlin · 2 days ago

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I think i found the reason why i like channels like OSP and SFTH so much. The dynamics feel more authentic and trustworthy.

There's this cute wlw couple on insta who reel i occasionally watch, but i dont want to follow them, put comments or participate in their polls because them like other family and couple bloggers on the internet have a sheen of displaying their dynamics for views. I feel love and affection should be more subtle that it influence the way we, the audience view the performers. These bloggers may be genuine but I don't trust entirely what goes bts because they eventually are basically saying, 'this is us. look how cool we are and how in love we are. what dress should i wear for my date?'

It's fine if blogging is a fun thing you like to do that's integral to your life but at some point, if its solely about your life, it gets weird.

Overly Sarcastic Productions and Shoot from the Hip both started in the early 2010s when a couple of highschoolers and drunk collegemates respectively decided to produce something they loved.

OSP started off as a Shakespearean highschool project meant to spite their english teacher. But Red got so good at narrating and animating her production that it became a significant channel now. It wouldn't be the same hadn't her bestie Blue try to freebie on channel to infodump his special interests. You can feel the affection and love between the two as you watch a single video of theirs together.

SFTH is probably the healthiest masculine media I've ever come across in my life. It's so amazing to see a small improv group to grow to this size within a span of 2 yres after struggling for another 10. The craft wouldn't have the same magic hadn't they all been comfortable with each other and been friends for over a decade.

THeir genuine affection and love spills over into the content they are actually supposed to be making that it makes their craft sweeter and even more special than any friend or couple blogs on the internet ever could

#shoot from the hip #sfthposting #shootimpro #osp #i love these guys

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kk095 · 3 days ago

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Xmas in the ER

*Hello there everyone, and merry Christmas to those who celebrate! As promised, here's my latest story. I hope you all enjoy the story as much as I do, and feel free to shoot me a message, comment, or leave me asks if you have any questions! I will also be posting another story sometime on New Year's Eve.*

As the old saying goes, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. The holiday is a great opportunity to spend time with loved ones, exchange gifts, and make lifelong memories. But for Dr Lindsay, this year’s Christmas was just another Wednesday where she was tasked with holding down the 7pm to 7am overnight shift in our ER. Naturally, Lindsay was bummed out about the idea of having to work on Christmas, but the emergency department is a 24/7 operation! Little did she know, she’d still have a holiday she’d never forget!

That night, the weather was awful. It was dark, freezing cold, and snowing heavily. Visibility was limited, and the roads were covered in a fresh coat of snow and ice. “Jeez… I bet we’ll have a couple of MVCs tonight.” Lindsay thought to herself shortly after she started driving, trying her best to carefully make her way to work through the frozen, wintery landscape. Fortunately for Lindsay, the roads were mostly empty, most people in the area opting to stay indoors. Even though the roads were empty, the conditions were less than ideal, so she felt the best move was to drive slowly.

Despite Lindsay doing everything in her power to arrive safely at the emergency department, fate had other plans for the cute, sporty tomboy doctor! On the highway about 10 minutes or so from her destination, Lindsay’s car slipped on a patch of ice on the road. The car almost immediately lost control, redirecting the doctor’s vehicle towards a cement barrier in the median of the highway. Lindsay’s heart raced as she white-knuckled the steering wheel, frantically attempting to regain control of the errant vehicle. But it all happened so fast! There was only so much Lindsay could do in those few seconds. Lindsay was unable to stop or change the trajectory of her car and slammed head on into the cement median.

CRUNCH! The windshield shattered, glass fragments flying everywhere inside the vehicle acting almost as little bits of shrapnel. Lindsay raised one arm to attempt to cover her face from the glass shards, but a few nicked her face and neck. The steering column was forced inwards, slamming Lindsay in her chest with tremendous force before being blown back a second or so later when the airbag deployed. “AHHH!” Dr Lindsay yelped, feeling something pop inside her chest. Even with the vehicle stopped after the impact, the momentum generated from the accident caused Lindsay to be thrown around a bit. Just like that, the roles were reversed, and now Lindsay found herself in need of assistance in the ER.

Upon arrival at the emergency department, Lindsay was awake, alert, and doing anything and everything she could to fight through the pain. While being wheeled in through the main entryway of the ER, she was laid out on a backboard atop a gurney with a c-collar around her neck. Lindsay was stripped barefoot, down to just her black sports bra and scrub pants. EKG electrodes and wires were stuck onto her torso, while IV lines were set up in each arm. A blood pressure cuff was wrapped around her left bicep, and a pulse oximeter was on her left index finger. The ER doc’s body was in relatively good shape, but she had some cuts and scrapes on her face and neck from the glass shards.

While being wheeled in, Dr Lindsay was experiencing a weird déjà vu of sorts. She’s walked through those same entryway doors more times than she could count, but she never saw the emergency department from that angle. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of being brought in as a patient. Her pretty blue eyes scanned her surroundings, attempting to make sense of the nonsense. “33 year old female, blunt chest trauma, single car MVC. BP 60 over palp, heart rate’s 140 and climbing, pulse ox down to 90. Got IVs going on scene and started fluids, but her vitals aren’t looking too good.” Lindsay heard a female medic rattle off while wheeling the stretcher down the hall towards trauma room one. “Ok, thank you. Let’s get her over to trauma one. I’m gonna start her on the MTP and get a chest x ray.” A familiar voice replied to the medic. “who is that?” Lindsay thought to herself. “Dr Sarah maybe? I know she was supposed to work the day shift today.” Lindsay answered, still thinking to herself.

The gurney was still being wheeled towards the trauma bay. Dr Sarah leaned over, coming into Lindsay’s line of sight and lowered a stethoscope onto her chest. Sarah didn’t look down at Lindsay’s face, so she didn’t immediately realize who her next patient was. “Diminished breath sounds on the left side, we might need a chest tube.” Sarah observed, pulling her stethoscope away after a brief listen. Dr Sarah then looked down at the gurney, her eyes locking with Lindsay’s. Sarah’s eyes could be seen widening behind her glasses, absolutely stunned at what she was looking at. Sarah gasped, unable to get a word out. “Sarah….?” Lindsay whimpered, her voice weak and breathy. “OHMYGOD, Linds?! What happened?” Marveled Dr Sarah, still processing the concept of Dr Lindsay- a friend and coworker, being her next patient. Lindsay’s lip quivered, her eyes started to moisten. “my car… it just slipped… I don’t know what happened…” Lindsay explained to Sarah, her voice wobbly, now on the verge of tears. “It’s ok Linds, it’s gonna be ok! We’re gonna take a good look at you!” Consoled Sarah, gently grabbing Lindsay’s right hand, her voice a bit panicked.

Once in the trauma room, the stretcher was lined up parallel to the table, where Nurses Heather and Nancy waited. “LINDSAY?!” Heather exclaimed the instant she recognized who the patient was. “Hunny?! What happened?!” Nurse Nancy chimed in, equally surprised. Lindsay didn’t answer, but the familiar voices certainly comforted her through the terrifying uncertainty she was experiencing. “Let’s get her on the table on my count! One… Two… THREE!” Sarah barked out. The trio of beautiful ladies picked up the backboard and carefully moved their coworker onto the table while the paramedics took their stretcher back and exited the room. “Ah….” Winced Lindsay, feeling some pain inside her chest while being placed down on the table. Dr Lindsay squinted, the bright, fluorescent overhead light practically blinding her. “BPs 60 over palp and dropping. Hang 4 units of O-neg and prep Lindsay for a chest tube.” Ordered Dr Sarah, her voice urgent. “Linds? I have to put in a left chest tube. You know how bad they hurt, but be strong for me, ok? I promise I’ll be fast.” Dr Sarah kept Lindsay in the loop about her treatment. Lindsay hesitated for a moment, trying to mentally prepare for the pain she was about to endure. But the logical, doctor side of her took over, realizing that the brutal, painful procedure had to be done. Dr Lindsay’s eyes looked up at Sarah, and she nodded. “Go ahead.” Permitted Lindsay, giving Sarah the green light to begin chest tube placement.

Lindsay laid on the table in the supine position, her left arm raised above along her head. The normally calm and collected Dr Lindsay had a nervous expression on her face. The doctor turned patient’s lips were pinched tight, her forehead puckered, her icy blue-grey eyes looking in the direction of her left ribcage where the tube was to be inserted. She watched Dr Sarah insert a needle full of lidocaine to numb the skin. Lindsay felt a quick pinch, but nothing too worrisome. Sarah then sterilized the incision area with an alcohol wipe. “Ok Linds… Here we go…” The cute, nerdy redhead doctor told Lindsay, reaching for a 10 blade scalpel that sat on an equipment tray beside the trauma room table. Sarah took the scalpel and made a 1 inch cut at the intersection of the 4th intercostal space and anterior axillary line. Lindsay could feel the cold, sharp blade’s every move as it effortlessly slashed her skin apart. Lindsay saw stars, her eyes rolling back in pain. After the cut was made, Sarah attached a Kelly clamp to the proximal end of the chest tube, then bluntly inserted it into Lindsay’s chest cavity. “YAHHH!!!!” Yelped Lindsay, her eyes shooting wide open. Dr Sarah continued the procedure, guiding the tube further into Lindsay’s chest cavity into the pleural space. “AHHHH!!!” Lindsay let out a blood curdling scream, in absolute agony, her eyes tearing up, both her hands making tight fists, feeling the plastic tube forcing its way deeper inside her chest. There was a hiss of air once the tube reached the correct location from trapped air vacating Lindsay’s chest cavity. Lindsay gasped loudly and dramatically, then attempted to sit up. “whoawhoawhoa!” Nurse Heather stepped in, gently laying Lindsay back down on the table. “Stay still for us Linds. So far so good hunny.” Nancy chimed in, gently stroking Lindsay’s hair. Sarah lowered her stethoscope onto Lindsay’s chest and had a listen. “Tube’s in.” Sarah nodded.

Although Lindsay’s breathing improved following the chest tube placement, her vital signs continued to drop. Dr Sarah started another round of blood products and upped Lindsay’s meds, but that didn’t seem to be doing the trick. Lindsay began to shiver dramatically. Her long legs trembled and shook, and at the far end of the bed, her toes were scrunched up hard, showing off the white and red candy cane themed nail polish on her toes, along with the thin, wavy, prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of the big, size 12 feet Lindsay was always so self conscious of. “Mmmmm…” Lindsay moaned. Dr Lindsay began taking rapid, shallow breaths, continuing to moan. “Shhh. It’s ok Linds. Hang in there a little longer for me…” Nurse Nancy’s calm, soothing voice told Lindsay. “I…I…” Lindsay babbled. “You what sweetie?” asked Nancy. “I just… I can’t believe I’m gonna die on Christmas…” Replied Lindsay, an impending sense of doom consuming her. The trio of caretakers in the room stood there frozen for a second, taken aback by Lindsay’s response. Nobody could believe that words like that were coming from Lindsay’s mouth. “You’re not dying hunny! We need you here New Year’s Eve! You know how we get slammed every year!” Nancy tried to encourage, her tone of voice upbeat and positive. “New Year’s Eve? Pshhh…” Lindsay scoffed, continuing to shiver. “I’m gonna be toe tagged and under a sheet in a little while…. Forget New year’s…” continued Lindsay. “No hunny, don’t say that! We’re gonna fix you up!” Nancy reassured, her voice getting a bit wobbly, upset by how Lindsay was talking about her own fate.

Before Lindsay could even answer, she started gasping loudly, taking deep, dramatic gasps. The heart monitors began beeping louder and faster, playing an almost ominous tone. “She’s crashing…” Heather announced. “linds? Stay with us hunny!” Nurse Nancy said to Lindsay, holding her right hand for a second. Again, Lindsay didn’t answer. Her frantic hyperventilating continued, her eyes WIDE open. “We need to intubate. 8.0 ET and a laryngoscope!.” Ordered Sarah, her voice roaring through the room. “Lindsay? I’m gonna intubate you, ok?” Sarah told Lindsay, moving to the head of the bed. Dr Lindsay looked up at Dr Sarah, their eyes locking for a moment. Lindsay looked like she was trying to mouth something, but couldn’t get the words out. “What’s up Linds?” asked Sarah. Lindsay didn’t answer. Her eyes shifted away from Sarah’s. Lindsay’s eyes remained wide open, but became locked at the ceiling. It was like a switch was flipped. Lindsay’s shivering and gasping came to an abrupt stop. The monitors began to alarm at that point. “V-fib! Starting compressions!!!” Nurse Heather shouted out. Heather immediately began chest compressions, pushing down on Lindsay’s chest hard and fast. Nancy swooped in, snipping off Lindsay’s sports bra, exposing her small breasts and hard nipples. At the head of the bed, Sarah got right to it, beginning rapid sequence intubation. The nerdy redheaded doctor carefully navigated the flexible plastic tube into her friend’s airway. Lindsay’s head bobbed and lolled around from the residual force of Heather’s hearty compressions, creating a moving target for Sarah- nothing that Sarah couldn’t handle! The breathing tube was navigated further into Lindsay’s airway, ending up in the correct depth and location in a matter of seconds. “I’m in!” Sarah confidently announced, taping the tube in place.

Post-intubation, the trauma team decided to shock Lindsay. The defibrillator paddles were charged to 200 joules, gelled, and pressed up against Lindsay’s bare, flat chest. “Alright! Everyone…CLEAR!” Sarah shouted, sending the first shock into the patient once everyone backed away. “MMMPH!” Lindsay moaned, as if she felt the shock. The first defibrillation didn’t do the trick, onto the second one! The defibs were recharged to 250 joules, and shock #2 was promptly delivered. “Mmm….” Moaned Lindsay, again, almost as if she knew what was being done to her. Shocks one and two didn’t do the trick, but third time’s the charm, right? The paddles were charged up to 300, and Lindsay was shocked. Her chest shot up and her back arched. She held that position for a second or two before plopping down onto the orange backboard. “Damn it, no change! Shocking again at 360. Everyone… CLEAR!” Barked Dr Sarah. KA-THUNK! Lindsay’s 6’1 frame was tossed around effortlessly by the stronger shock, but like before, v-fib persisted. With the paddles still pressed up against Lindsay’s bare chest, Sarah shocked Dr Lindsay again at 360 joules. At the far end of the table, Lindsay’s feet kicked up, slamming back down hard half a second later, wrinkling the soles of her big feet once again.

Following the fifth shock, the trauma team switched gears, giving CPR and ambu bagging another try. Heather placed the heel of her gloved hand on the middle of Lindsay’s chest and began pumping away hard and fast. Lindsay’s chest caved in, and her toned belly with abs rippled and jiggled out from the sheer force of the chest compressions. Heather felt Lindsay’s ribs break, but nonetheless, she kept up her life saving efforts. At the head of the bed, Nurse Nancy attached the ambu bag to the ET tube, puffing the light blue bag every few seconds or so, sending critically needed oxygen directly into the coding doctor’s lungs. Dr Sarah stood off to the side of the table injecting the first doses of epinephrine and atropine into Lindsay’s IV line in hopes of stimulating positive cardiac activity. While waiting for the meds to kick in, Heather kept at it, brutally going to town on her coworker (now patient’s) chest. Heather looked down at Lindsay’s face while continuing CPR. Lindsay’s head bobbed and bounced around in sync with each individual compression. Her eyes were WIDE open, her face locked in a full-blown death stare. The ET tube hung out the side of Lindsay’s mouth, taped in place, hugging her pale lips. Heather couldn’t believe a familiar face was in such dire shape. “The ones with their eyes open never make it��” Heather thought to herself. Back at the head of the table, Nancy continued ambu bagging. “You’ve got a long life ahead of you… We all love you and need you here Linds…” Nancy whispered into Lindsay’s ear, as if she was trying to convince Lindsay to not die.

Over the coming minutes, Lindsay’s chest began to take an absolute beating. A nasty bruise started to form in the center of her chest on top of the breastbone. Mid code, Lindsay’s chest tube began to drain a substantial amount of blood seemingly out of nowhere. “What the hell?...” A surprised Dr Sarah thought out loud. In the blink of an eye, a couple liters of blood drained through the tube. “She’s bleeding somewhere in her chest. Maybe a cardiac chamber or great vessel injury.” Speculated Sarah, trying to explain away what she was seeing. “I’m gonna do an echo. Let’s see what her heart’s doing. Maybe that’ll give me something to work with.” Sarah went on. With CPR ongoing, Sarah squirted a little bit of clear, conductive ultrasound gel onto Lindsay’s bare chest. She turned on the ultrasound monitor screen and lowered the wand onto the portion of Lindsay’s chest where the gel was and began moving it around for a second or two to spread it out a bit. Sarah then moved the ultrasound wand over Lindsay’s heart and eyes the monitor screen. “….oh Lord…what a mess in there…” Uttered Sarah. “Hmm?” Heather overheard. “Massive tamponade.” Sarah shook her head. “Pericardiocentesis?” asked Heather, wondering what the next step was. “I don’t think that’ll do the trick. We need to crack her chest and see what’s really going on in there. I’m gonna set up a thoracotomy tray.” Sarah explained to Nurse Heather. Nurse Heather’s eyes went wide once she heard the word “thoracotomy.” That was a last ditch effort, hail Mary procedure used in the most critical patients. Heather has seen many patients get their chest cracked during her time as a nurse in our ER, but the idea of a friend, coworker, and familiar face being the recipient of such a procedure really bothered Heather at a deeper level.

Betadine was splashed across the left half of Lindsay’s chest. The strong, chemical scent of antiseptic hit everyone’s nostrils in less than a second. Sarah picked up the scalpel, making a crude, but decisive incision. The cut started just to the left of Lindsay’s sternum, extended laterally across her chest, underneath her left nipple, and concluding just shy of her left armpit. Heather halted CPR while Sarah worked to separate the underlying tissue and muscle to make way for the rib spreader. With an adequate space created, the metal rib retractor was placed, and Lindsay’s chest was forcefully pried open. A loud popping and cracking sound echoed around the room while Sarah turned the knobs on the spreader. Upon entry to Lindsay’s chest cavity, there was a massive rush of blood. “Suction! SUCTION!” Shouted Sarah, packing handfuls of surgical sponges into the fresh incision area. Heather lowered a suction tube into Lindsay’s chest cavity and began removing the excess blood to create a good line of sight for Sarah. The suction tube made a wet slurping sound as it removed the blood. Meanwhile, Sarah incised the fibrous lining of the pericardium to relieve the tamponade and placed a vascular clamp on the descending aorta in order to redirect blood flow and quell any arterial bleeding- at least temporarily. Heather continued to apply suction every few seconds or so, the line of sight clogging up with blood like clockwork. “Starting cardiac massage.” Announced Sarah, reaching into Lindsay’s chest, beginning to vigorously massage away at Lindsay’s strong, athletic heart. Sarah’s gloved hands were wrapped firmly around the beautiful tomboy doctor’s heart, squeezing much needed blood to the rest of her body. A wet, rhythmic squishing sound was produced from Dr Sarah’s internal resus efforts. “Come on… come on Linds…” uttered Sarah under her breath.

Sarah squeezed and squeezed, but her multiple cycles of cardiac massage failed to restart Dr Lindsay’s heart. Next up, the team opted to give the internal paddles a try. The internal paddles were charged to 20 joules and lowered into Lindsay’s chest around her erratically twitching heart. THWACK! Lindsay’s heart tensed up for a second before going right back to v-fib. Sarah sighed. “No change, going again at 30. Everyone… CLEAR!” Sarah shocked again. Lindsay’s torso jolted sharply in response to the shock, but v-fib remained. “Hitting her again at 40!..... CLEAR!” Sarah’s voice surged. “Mmm….” Lindsay moaned in reaction to the shock. “she’s still in v-fib, let’s go again…. CLEAR!” Sarah yelled out passionately. A dull, wet thump was heard, however, Lindsay’s heart still couldn’t be shocked out of v-fib. “AGAIN!... CLEAR!” Yelled Sarah, lowering the blood soaked internal paddles back onto Lindsay’s cracked open chest. “Still nothing. Recharging the internal paddles to 40!” Sarah announced, her tone of voice growing more and panicked. The high pitched, electrical whirring sound of the paddles recharging bounced around the room. “Ok…. CLEAR!” Sarah defibbed Lindsay again. Almost instantly after the shock, the heart monitors flatlined. Lindsay’s heart sat completely motionless in plain sight. Dr Sarah removed the large, spoon shaped paddles and gently set them back on the crash cart. Sarah began removing her gloves and eyeing the clock on the wall. “It’s over. Time of death, 19:35.” Sarah called out, abruptly terminating the code.

The trio of caretakers stood there shell shocked for a moment while the high pitched hum of the flatlined monitors droned around the room. Nancy removed the ambu bag, a small amount of air quietly hissing out. Heather switched off the monitors, making the once loud, chaotic room eerily silent. Nobody said a word, but knew exactly what to do next. The IV lines were taken out of each arm. The EKG electrodes were disconnected. The BP cuff was taken off Lindsay’s left bicep. The pulse oximeter was taken off her left index finger. A blue surgical drape was hastily tossed on top of the thoracotomy site. Lindsay’s eyes remained wide open as her body was covered, appearing as if she watched the sheet get pulled over her head. Last but not least, a toe tag was filled out and placed on the big toe of Lindsay’s left foot. The tag dangled in front of Lindsay’s hot, wrinkly soles, serving as a harsh reminder that no Christmas miracles would be taking place that night. In this alternate reality, Lindsay was now the latest beauty who found herself toe tagged and under a sheet in our emergency department.

#resus community #resus #resus writing #cpr resus #cpr #cpr female #medfet

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sturn5iolo · 18 hours ago

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DREAM MAKER & HEARTBREAKER

synopsis: chris had been ignoring you so you show up to a party looking for him, just for him to be with another girl.

pairing: frat boy! chris sturniolo x f!reader

warnings: drinking, angstish??, “no strings attached”relationship, not proofread

mellys note!!: this plot came up in my head while i listened to the song “moon river” by frank ocean… why?? idk? so enjoy

the sound of music blasted in your ears. you were at a frat party, mainly for chris. you knew he was going to be there. you and chris have been an off and on situationship, you knew you loved him. but did he love you?

you walked around trying to look for him, sparing a “hi” to anybody who came up to you but quickly walking away. you were so desperate to find chris because he had been ignoring you for a good few days and something in you made you feel weird. a pit in your stomach bothering you, telling you to look for him.

passing through all the drunken people who stench of alcohol and weed, you finally made it to the living room. your eyes wandered until it made it to the couch. there was chris.

but he wasn’t alone, a skinny brunette girl sat on his lap. her fingers ran through his hair, her other hand resting on his chest as he whispered something in her ear that caused her to laugh. you saw the way his lips tickled her ear, the way his hands stayed on her thighs and the way they laughed and conversed together.

jealousy started seeping out of you, but you stayed in place. your teeth dug into the insides of your cheek and your eyes watered. why were you so upset about this? you question in your head over and over.

you quickly pivot and start to go towards the kitchen counter. there you start to mix all types of drinks into a red solo cup, not even caring about how you will feel the next day. all that you could think about was chris and the random girl.

the alcohol went down your throat quickly and gave you a quick burning sensation. you winced at the taste but you just wanted the drunk feeling.

1 drink turned into 3 into 5 into too many you forgot to count. after taking probably your 9th cup, you hear someone talk to you. “think you’ve had enough?” a deep voice spoke, you look to your side, it was one of chris’ frat brothers. “ohhh heyyy! honestly no i think i need more.” you hiccup out.

before you can grab a cup, chris’ frat bro takes it away. “nope chris will kill me if i let you.” you roll your eyes, “ugh why should he care! he’s with that other girl.” the guy looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed and then chuckles, “damn girl your wasted.”

not even letting him say something else, you turn around and start walking away, not wanting to continue this conversation. somehow you made it outside, the cold wind hit you like the speed of light making you shiver a bit. you sit down on the curb of the sidewalk.

“need some company?” a familiar voice questioned you, chris. your roll your eyes once again and choose to ignore him. you hear him grunt as he sits next to you, “what do you want?” you slur. “well i heard your drunk and alone so i knew i had to find you.”

you twist your head and look at him. you haven’t seen him up close in a few days so you take in his features, and the way they glow by the moonlight. “whatever, go back to that girl you were with.” you whisper but he had still heard you. chris’ tongue glides over his teeth as he nods. “what you jealous?”

you scoff at him, “of course i was chris…how could you ignore me for days then go off flirting with her.” you say “we aren’t official..” chris tries defending himself.

at this point your speechless, you knew he was right so what’s the point on fighting back on this? you both go quiet not having anything else to say to each other.

you stand up very quickly, making you wobble a bit almost losing your balance. “welp im going to head back home! no point of having me here.” you quietly say the last part. chris stands up with you, “did you drive here yourself?” he questions you genuinely curious. you nod at him and try to walk away.

chris grabs your arm, “then no your not. you’re not driving back yourself.” you groan at him, “im not going anywhere with you?!” crossing your arms and standing in place. he rolls his eyes at you and bends his knees. you look at him confused until you feel yourself being lifted off the ground. the quick action made you dizzy, chris held you bridal style and started walking towards his car.

“put me down!” you whined out to him, but he ignored you. unlocking his car and putting you in the passenger seat. he reached over and grabbed the seatbelt buckling you in, “your so damn stubborn all the time jesus.”

#sturn5iolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo angst

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zecretsanta · 2 days ago

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To: @soopyloop

From: @sunsale

Hello and Happy Holidays! I really liked all of your prompt ideas! The Pre-ZTD premium booklet interactions/conversations stood out the most to me though so I decided to draw it out how I thought those scenes could be depicted. I hope you like it!

Dialogue between Eric and Junpei

Eric: My girlfriend is a good girl. But whenever I first introduce her to people, they can’t see her full potential like I can. You are the same way too, aren’t you?

Junpei: Huh, what do you mean by that?

Eric: You can’t think I hadn’t noticed it. The way you look at that girl you like. How you try and track her every movement. And try twice as hard just to keep up… To remain in her reach?

Junpei: Well you’re not wrong about that. Especially about that last part.

Junpei: I guess you and me and hell. Now that I think about it, Akane and Mira. We’re all pretty similar to each other. That’s probably how we got so close to each other so fast.

Eric: (laughs) Yeah I know. I tried to get that point across from close to when we first met. I could see it then and still do now. It was so hard to convince you after we started getting closer and became friends.

Junpei: Can you honestly blame me? I couldn’t trust you that much in the beginning. Plus I didn’t want to believe such an obvious parallel. It hit too close to home to see such desperation from myself in you.

Eric: You can say that again. In truth, if I wasn’t already so set in my beliefs and how strongly I feel about Mira, perhaps I would react the same way.

Eric: We both truly worship and cherish the women we love. How’s about starting a fan club for them?

Junpei: (Still in shock) Hm. I’ll consider it.

Junpei: It’s kinda cringe when you say it like that, but Akane is very special to me. So it would be worth it.

Eric: Same for my Mira.

Junpei: Another thing. I hate to admit this but, whenever all four of us hang out together the atmosphere get a bit weird around us, right? Or am I just imagining that?

#submission #zero time dilemma #ZTD #phi #sigma #Junpei #akane #mira #Eric #Q ZTD #soopyloop #sunsale #zecret santa 2024

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nuggeteri · 2 days ago

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pour @jean-phillipedelaporte

(for my best french friend except it's in English let's go.)

(I take any and all requests about the life series.)

Scott took a step back.

He was in the Cod Lands.

He didn't know why, per say. A few hours ago, he could've asked his council and they'd probably have given him a dozen good reasons for him to be here. But right at this moment, Scott didn't think any reason would be worth endangering Jimmy.

Or, well, the Codfather, but he insisted on being referred to as Jimmy by Scott, for some weird reason. Even if he got all riled up whenever Fwhip dared to utter that name. He guessed that came with allyship.

It didn't matter either way--he didn't even know if that offer still stood true or not. He definitely wasn't allied with Fwhip anymore, his standing with Gem was shaky at best, and he's still not solved the conflict between him and Shubble. If he had the misfortune of fucking it all up, Jimmy definitely could take him in a fight.

Which was a weird thought, wasn't it? The Cod Lands had always been made fun of for being the weakest Empire. Standing here, though, Scott couldn't help but feel as though power meant nothing if he didn't have allies.

Katherine wouldn't help him in a war--she'd be allied with his ennemies. And Jimmy actually had many allies, like the Copper King, Queen Lizzie and King Joel.

He's spiraling, he knew this. It didn't stop him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" A voice interrupted his thought process--it couldn't be anyone other than Jimmy. And he sounded so friendly, Scott didn't even know why he was spiraling in the first place.

(A step back and frost on the ground told him exactly why, but he gulped and ignored it. He had things to do here---though he couldn't remember what.)

"You're not helping your case here." He said instead of voicing any of his thoughts. Why would he ever, anyway? Jimmy just looked at him--brows furrowing making the confusion crystal clear on his face. "What case?"

"With the nickels." He clarified and Jimmy just groaned---getting a chuckle out of Scott.

"What do you want anyway Scott?" He asked to change the subject. Scott let's him--he'd let Jimmy do anything.

"I can't quite recall," He answered honestly.

"It has been a while since we've seen each other. We can just hang out."

The reminder hit him right in the gut.

He hadn't seen anyone in a while because he'd been away doing his pity party in the Wastes, leaving his council in charge while he figured out his powers. Not like he ever did, anyway.

"We can't." Scott answered, once more, honestly. "I'm a busy man." Which is not all that honest, but it would get the job done...

"Busy visiting my Empire?" And that is the worse. Jimmy is not calling him out on his bullshit, his voice is filled with pure curiosity. Scott plays on it. "We don't have a lot of books on mer-above-land culture."

Which wasn't untrue.

"The Cod Lands are young, my apologies. We don't have many historians yet."

Yet they could beat him in a war, because Scott didn't have allies.

He sighed and looked over the horizon--it being the ocean. As an Avian, he could see further than most species, meaning he could see the outline of the Ocean Empire from here.

"Rivendell has always loved writing. I don't doubt I could send some journalists your way, then?" He proposed, because while he was curious---he also didn't want to make his visit worthless.

(There was Jimmy. How could anything ever be worthless if there was Jimmy? Scott's really selfish, isn't he?)

"That wouldn't bother me at all. More exposure, really. My Empire also loves writing, mostly stories though."

Rivendell... Doesn't actually have many fiction writing, really. Autobiographies, sure, plenty of poems and historical books, but very few novels. "You've peeked my attention."

"The Cod Empire is just approaching it's fifteen birthday. Most our authors are teens, believe it or not. Creating romance between mer, because they have never seen it depicted. It's quite sweet. I don't imagine they have the talent of full fledged Rivendell authors, though." Jimmy didn't know that Rivendell didn't actually have any novel authors. He doesn't break the news to him yet, though.

"Have some faith, art is art. I have never seen mer love stories. Care to share?"

"It can vary a lot. From coral to kelp, hot and cold waters, sand dust and gravel, mud and dirt. Ice, too."

Ice?

"Ice?"

"Yeah, well, ice is water, is it not? Water magic can still control it."

"Really?" He can't help but thinks about his magic. "How come you haven't shown it in Rivendell?"

"That would be an act of war, wouldn't it? Affecting the environment without consent." He said and Scott can't help but think about the many empires he's accidentally frozen. "But we also kinda did. The pond, the cod never really died when it got frozen over, did they?"

Jimmy knew about that? It wasn't the time to dwell on it, though, because Jimmy was.. right.

His hands start to form fists. He can feel ice spreading on his palm and he didn't want it to get out of control.

"Come on, big guy, let me see," The Codfather said as he approached Scott--Scott took one step back, simply one, which is why Jimmy gets to him and softly takes his hand.

In a matter of seconds, it all melts back to water.

"See? Ice doesn't only have sharp edges."

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands #empires s1 #empiresshipping #empires smp #ao3 #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

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pastlivesxpastlie · 3 days ago

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⋆𐙚❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔: Merry Christmas, Sleep Token Gift Exchange Edition

to: @wishicoulddisappear from: @pastlivesxpastlie but you can call me Wolfie ♡

I don't want to give it all the way, but just know there's praise and gentle dom!ii and best friends being naughty. I hope you love it ⟡ ݁₊ . read it on AO3

...and nobody else can pull me out ⚬ ii x vessel

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Vessel asked, lightly punching ii’s arm. The drummer’s smile just quirked up to one side and he shrugged. This wasn’t a good enough answer for Ves. “Mate, come on. What?”

“Just proud.”

“Proud?”

“Yes. Of you.”

They had just finished a show and were freshly showered. Nothing was out of the ordinary about the night. Sure everyone sounded great, the chemistry with the crowd was electric, but to Ves he just went out there, did what he always did, loved it, and called it a night. So why was his best friend looking at him like he won something? Vessel shrugged and looked away, focusing his eyes outside the hotel window. It felt good to hear this from ii. They respected the hell out of each other. They had to. How else could they create the work they did? But Vessel also knew that ii listened. Not just to the tracks and demos but him. ii really saw Vessel. Understood the idea and the feeling without Ves having to explain. He never had to explain. ii never expected him to explain because maybe it was painful, or maybe the magic would be ruined if the metaphors were taken apart. But more to the point, ii just got him.

ii considered his friend for a moment, letting his eyes linger over his face and chest. Vessel’s chest wasn’t a new sight, but it is a welcome one for some reason tonight. Maybe because it was slightly rosy from blushing…moving up and down with slightly more effort. “What’s the matter, hm” ii smirks. “Hate hearing praise?”

There was that word again. Praise. Critics praised albums. A master praised a dog. A congregation praised a deity. “Why would you call it that?” Vessel himself was not worthy of praise. “It’s just a compliment. Call it what it is.” He can’t bring himself to look at ii, he just stares and the soft white hotel sheets. “Don’t be weird.”

“Look at me.” Finally, Vessel lets out a big huff and looks at ii. Good god, the intensity of his stare. Those blue eyes shot through him and held him in place. “How long have we been at this? Out of everyone…I am at liberty to praise you. I dare you to tell I’m wrong.”

This is triggering Vessel’s fight or flight response, yet he chooses to freeze. For all intents and purposes, ii is being kind but why is he being so firm? Vessel feels like he’s in trouble with a teacher and wonders to himself what could come of this if he just pushed…just a little. He snaps out of his frozen state and clears his throat. “Well you are wrong. You’re wrong about having liberties over me.” He rolls eyes.

“Just accept the praise and move on. Say thank you, at least.”

“Christ’s sake. Thank you, kind sir, for your hard earned praise and respect,” Vessel scoffs, giving ii a bratty smirk.

“Oh there’s a good boy,” ii jokes as he walks towards where Ves sits on the bed, “was that so hard?”

“Oh no, eeeeaaaasiest thing I’ve ever done, mate. Wasn’t at all like getting a compliment from my mu—“ but he can’t get his sentence out. His chin is gripped in ii’s strong hands, and he’s being pulled up slightly. Vessel doesn’t even want to ask why ii is acting the way he is and swats at his wrist, but ii moves faster. Damn it. Of course he does. ii grips Vessel’s wrist and leans in, ready to lay in to him, but the devil on his shoulder says ‘do it. Shut him up. Shut his slut mouth.’ Their lips collide in a hot, silent moment. Vessel pulls ii into his lap and wraps his arms around him tightly, his hands grasping under his tank top and explores

“Let’s get these clothes off…” ii hissed against the shell of Ves’s ear. Fuck…this was really happening. When they both have their pants off, ii moves to lay down but Ves stops him by cupping his wide, spidery hand over ii’s rib cage, right below his pec. ii shudders as Vessel’s thumb gently rubs against his nipple. “What…what is it?”

“Come back in my lap…please. Please?” ii was a goner. He tried to keep up his gentle, guiding-hand mentality but Vessel’s pleas sought to break him. As soon as he straddles him again, ii lets his twitching cock slot right beside Vessel’s. They both moan softly as they stare down at each other’s erections…how they look side by side. ii balances himself on one hand and spits in the other.

“Look at that….hey…Ves I said look at that.” Vessel bites his lip as ii strokes their cocks together in his one hand. “Doesn’t that look good? Doesn’t that look right? Hm,” ii rasps, looking at Vessel’s already glazed over and fucked out face. Ves wants to nod but he’s in awe. “Say it…say that it looks right. Say this is how it should be.”

“It looks…r-r-right…and…fuck…fuck…” Vessel wants to say more. To wax poetic about how good ii’s cock and strong hand feel against him. How the weight of his friend in his lap fills a void that was once nameless…but he sees now what he needs. His hands squeeze and knead ii’s perfect waist, eliciting a moan and arched back. Ves leans forward and places wet, gentle kisses in the middle of ii’s tattooed chest, savoring in his warmth, the smell of his body. He can feel ii’s grip start to wain, so he gently touches his wrist, signaling him to stop. “Let me do this for you…” ii has to bite his lip when Vessel’s wide hand envelopes their cocks. He bets this is how Ves strokes his own cock, a thought he has to push aside if he wants this to last. For once, ii doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He’s already kissing and frotting with his best friend, why can’t he just touch him? What’s so bad about that? His resolve breaks when Ves’s left hand cups ii’s asscheek and makes him buck into his hand. ii’s hands cup Vessel’s face and pulls him in for a hot, deep kiss. His touch has become gentle. Loving. It’s a manifestation of what lay under the firm praise he gave Vessel…he just wants Ves to know he’s loved and worthy. Finally the silence is broken when a sharp whine comes from Vessel’s throat, a signal that’s he close…but ii knows that. He’s heard it before. They’ve shared plenty of hotel rooms with paper thin walls and tour bus bunks with flimsy privacy curtains. But tonight, ii was making him sound like that, and fuck if we wasn’t proud.

“Gonna cum for me? Hm? Show me how you get off…c’mon…” Vessel’s eyes roll back as he pathetically asks ii to spit on their cocks, a request ii can’t refuse. They both groan as the sensation intensifies with the added slick. “Let me see…bet you can get off quick…cheeky wank before we go on stage, yeah?”

“F-f-f-fuck off, mate,” Vessel sputters as he gets closer. The taunting is getting to him. He places his left hand on ii’s shoulder and presses him further in his lap. “Fuck my hand. Please. It…it..it’ll feel so good.” ii does as his best friend asks and lets out a growling moan. All ii wants is for Ves to cum on his cock and use it as lube and he gets his wish. The sensation of Vessel’s twitch and hot spurts thunder’s through ii’s smaller body and makes me him fuck into Ves’s fist harder…he imagines it’s his throat and he loses it. ii looks down in a daze at his broken lover, covered in their cum and sweat. Both of their chests heave as they come to. Finally, Vessel speaks. “I don’t regret that. But I will if I don’t take another shower.”

ii leans down and licks a long, messy stripe up Ves’s pretty tummy. “Not done with you yet…good boy.”

#st gift exchange 2024 #sleep token fanfiction #vessel fanfic #vessel smut #ii sleep token #ii fanfic #vessel x ii #sleep token smut

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twoa-plus · 3 days ago

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this is not a polished essay it is a giant yap session u have been warned

gotta be at least in the top 3 posts most likely to get me blown up by a missile but why is every depiction of bill & ford’s relationship either “hehe cute/sexy romance >:3c” or platonic psychological horror. why can’t we have both (not the cute/sexy thing, just the romance) like. u guys are aware that Really Really Horrible non-platonic relationships are a thing right. like u guys do know that right

idk i don’t really have words to express this eloquently but this fandom’s fixation on the idea of Romance = Good feels really weird to me. i really really love exploring complicated fucked up characters & their dynamics with each other and it’s just exhausting to not be able to do that without 14 pages of clarification. i know every fandom is like this to some extent i wasn’t born yesterday but it seems ESPECIALLY bad here. and yes imo it IS important to differentiate between a platonic & romantic relationship in this context bc that DOES make the way it reads a little different and that can be an interesting thing to discuss

also while i’m yapping abt things that would get me beat over the head with a shovel, y’all gotta learn that different interpretations doesn’t mean bad interpretations. like using bill & ford as an example:

“this is a good healthy relationship” bad interpretation. do you know how to read

“this is a really fucked up abusive platonic relationship” valid interpretation

“this is a really fucked up abusive romantic relationship” also a valid interpretation

(^does not apply to aus just the Actual Canon Written Text, aus are obv a case-by-case thing)

someone having the second interpretation does not make them homophobic i cannot believe i have to say this. someone having the third interpretation does not mean they support abuse (i actually can believe that i have to say that one at this point)

personally i actually don’t really care either way between the second and third i just wish we as a collective could have one (1) interesting and nuanced conversation about their dynamic & what led to it & all that stuff without spending 75% of the time just clarifying the opinion of “abuse is bad” it is so fucking tiring

anyways. fiddauthor truthers rise let’s all beat bill cipher to death with hammers

#yet again i have another thing that i think this ties into but whatever. this post is a disaster i dont need to make it worse LMAO #i am so fucking scared please do not get rabid in my notes i am just a little guy #idk if it comes through in the tone here but i’m not angry or anything jsut like. Tired #i do not have the energy to handle full on anger rn i will not hesitate to spray u guys with water like cats #gravity falls #bill cipher #stanford pines #tw abuse #cw abuse #i think those are the only cw/tw tags i need here?? if there’s any more lmk !!#and for the sake of those who have it filtered:#billford #twoa.txt

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rekino2114 · 1 day ago

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Someone who cared

Eva tsunaka x gn reader

[Spoilers for p:e.g. chapter 1]

A/n:and here is the Eva fic. I hope you enjoyed cause I really loved writing it. It's the happy ending my girl deserves

You were always Eva's anchor.

Your love for her was what grounded her to reality, what allowed her to keep going on in sleepless nights spent studying, through math competition she didn't even care about and in moments where she only wanted to cry in the shower because of situations she wasn't strong enough to handle, she reminded herself that there was someone who loved her because of who she was and not what everyone else thought she was. That there was a person she could always rely on and trust no matter what happened. You made her smile, a genuine pure smile, ever since your first meeting.

When at 5 years old she looked up from her book to see a person holding an ice cream cone to her

"What?"

"It's ice cream! Oh, it's cookies and cream, if you don't like it I can go change it"

".....do we know each other?"

"No but you just looked like you needed ice cream, standing alone reading isn't that fun"

"............"

"Quick! It's gonna melt!"

"O-oh"

She closed the book and grabbed the cone, giving it a lick before looking at you sitting near her on the bench

"Is it good?"

She just nodded and you smiled at her, a smile that made her feel all weird inside

"Oh! I forgot, mom only gave me 5 dollars to buy ice cream"

You pulled out some coins from your pocket and started counting

"One, two,three fo-"

"It's enough"

"Huh?"

"The ice cream cost 2 dollars,you brought two so it's 4"

"Oh you're fast at numbers"

"It's just math, 2 x 2 is 4 simple multiplication"

".....m-multi-what?"

Your confusion made a small smile appear on her face

"Just go to pay before it melts"

"Yeah ok, by the way, what's your name?"

"Eva, Eva tsunaka"

"Oh that's such a cool name"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you evie"

"E-evie?"

"It's a nickname, a name friends call you, do you like it?"

".....so we're friends?"

"Yep,....... oh I guess I should ask you, do you wanna be friends?"

In that moment her soul itself answered and she made the second best decision she ever made in her life

"Yeah, I'd like that"

From that moment on you entered her life and changed it for the better.

It turned out you were going to attend the same elementary school, and since you were already friends, you basically always hung out. Well, it was more like you continued to be near her until she let you read with her at recess, but she wouldn't have it any other way, because whenever you were sick she could feel the difference between reading with someone and just standing under a tree while everyone else played in the grass.

".......how do you say that?"

"What?"

"This word"

You pointed at her book

"Oh its-"

"AHHHHHH!"

Your scream alerted her and she turned to towards you to see you crouching and hugging your legs while pointing at a caterpillar

"I-it's a monster"

"It's just an insect"

"B-but aren't they poisony?"

"It's poisonous and no"

Just as she was about to keep reading, she felt something grip her. Her whole face turned red as you hugged her for protection while muttering something about the monster getting closer. The weird feeling came back. It was somewhere above her tummy, and when she talked about it with her parents as they were putting her to bed, they just laughed between each other and muttered something about her first crush. Of course, at the ripe age of 7, she couldn't understand what that was.

It was some time during middle school that she began understanding her true feelings.

"You take everything that doesn't have an x in it and move it to the right. You also need to change their signs, got it?"

"..........w-what?"

"The positive become negative and the opposite"

You tried to write something before fully giving up and putting your hands over your head

"I don't get it, when did letters make their way in math?"

Your study buddy sighed and took a pen, trying to guide you step by step through the homework

"Can we take a break?"

"Not until you figure it out"

"Please, pretty please with a cherry covered in chocolate on top?"

"No"

"Come on please, we can play super slam sisters"

"Hm?"

You grab a controller and look at her with that smile, that smile that made the feeling come back to her, the feeling that she always had when she was near you, just looking at your smile made it impossible to say no

"Ugh, I guess a couple of rounds can't hurt"

"Yay you're the best evie"

You hugged her, and she felt her face flush red again

"Are you OK? You're so red"

"I-i'm fine let's just play"

"I'm gonna destroy you this time"

"We'll see about that"

You paused the game after the fifth time you lost

"So who was gonna destroy me?"

".......ok ok i admit it...you're really good at this"

Your compliment made her heart beat again, but she put the controller down and turned towards you

"Let's continue studying"

You sighed but nodded and sat in front of the desk again

"OK now do you get it?"

"....i-i think so"

You started writing the solution and Eva looked at it before her face turned into one of surprise

"That's correct good job"

"Yay! Now can we take another break, as a reward?"

"We just had one"

".....alright"

You picked up the pen again but this time started looking at the wall deep in thought

"......thank you"

"For what?"

"A lot of things to be honest, but what I'm talking about now is....helping me"

"With math?"

"Yeah among other things"

"It's nothi-"

"No it is something"

You turned to look at her, your eyes locking with her blue ones

"My parents............they can't afford a tutor, so I decided to ask you, I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm taking advantage of you, but I just really wanna be with you"

"What do you mean?"

"The high school I wanna go to, it's the same as yours"

"Huh?"

"But if I don't have good grades they won't let me in, and......math is a subject I'm not good at"

You looked silently at her before suddenly holding her hands

"I want to stay with you, you're amazing evie, you're so smart and pretty and awesome, I want you to be in my life. So I promise I'll try my best to get good grades, to be with you"

You still have no idea why you said that, and more importantly you still have no idea how your 14 year old mind still didn't understand that maybe you felt something more than friendship for the back and white haired girl. But if you could go back, you'd say the exact same thing, not only because that's exactly how you felt but also because of what happened during high school.

Eva couldn't handle it anymore, the feeling in her chest she learned to call love was growing more and more with every day you spent together, with every time she had to remind you to pay attention in class and with every afternoon spent studying and playing slam sisters. She felt like her heart could explode if she didn't do something soon.She needed to do something about it.

But what could she do? Confessing would be very risky, if you didn't feel the same, it would have genuinely destroyed her, not only because you wouldn't be dating but mostly because she knew that no matter how much you tried to fix things and play it off as if nothing happened, your friendship would have never been the same, it would have all felt so awkward and uncomfortable and it would have probably been better to just end your friendship before it became even worse.

She could not handle that. You were her best friend. Her............only friend.

But she also knew better than anyone that if she didn't confess, someone else probably would and seeing you hanging out and kissing someone else while knowing that if she had just been braver that could have been her, would have destroyed her even more.

So she decided to act on valentine's day of your second year of high school.

"So what's with the chocolates?"

Your sudden question makes Eva spit her water

"W-what are you talking about?"

You pulled out the chocolate box with the letter inside

"Only you would do something like this"

You showed her the note which simply said "128√e980"

You unfolded the letter showing that the equation spelled "I love you"

"The chocolate are also my favorite flavors, but the note is the obvious part"

".........I know it's stupid but-"

"It's not stupid, it's pretty cool actually, even if it did take me a while to understand eheh"

Eva looked away embarrassed but quickly grew even more flustered when you held her hands

"But I want you to tell me that you love me"

"I-i just did-"

"No, I want Eva tsunaka to tell me that she loves me, not the mathlete that everyone thinks you are, tell me with your own words, the ones from the bottom of your heart, not numbers. then I can accept"

Eva started sweating, for what reason she doesn't know, maybe her cheeks got so hot that they actually started burning, but she calmed herself and took a deep breath before speaking

"Y-you make my heart beat, I feel all weird when I'm with you, I just want to smile and hug you for no reason, ever since we were kids, I now know what that is, I love you, I can 100% say I love you"

You smiled brightly, and she couldn't help but smile too. You always had this effect on her. She just couldn't help but feel happy with you.

"I love you too, evie, you're the best girl I ever met, and I wanna be with you forever"

You suddenly kissed her, it was a very soft and short kiss, but it still succeeded in making her blush even more than anything that happened before, but still she wanted to feel like this more so she kissed back. And with that she officially became your girlfriend.

She can confidently say that confessing to you was the best decision she ever made. Simply because the years where you two were together were the best of her life.

It was the small things you did for her, those things that made her feel seen and special, something like buying her something for breakfast when she didn't have to eat because she was busy studying, or just listening to her rant about a new ARG she helped solve on the internet.

Even the more embarrassing things like showing up to one of her math competition with a whole banner with a bad but admittedly really cute drawing of her face and her name written with a heart while yelling:

"YEAHHHH! THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND EVERYONE! SHE'S SUPER SMART, DESTROY EVERYONE ELSE EVIE!!!"

Sure, it made her want to die in the moment, but she would definitely be lying if she said it didn't warm her heart knowing that you cared so much about her and about her winning a competition even she didn't really care about

Just like your reaction to her getting her ultimate warmed her heart.

She hated being the ultimate mathlete. The utp just gave her this title without regard to who she really was and who she wanted to be, and she ranted to you about exactly that while cuddling. You just wrapped your arms around her and started comforting her

"Listen, I don't care what others say about you, or what they expect of you, to me you're Eva tsunaka, the amazing girl that i feel in love with, I couldn't care less about your ultimate,that doesn't define you to me and it shouldn't to anyone else. I love you because you're you ok evie?"

She felt her heart beating even faster than when you kissed her. Your words made her feel understood and so, so loved. She really needed someone like you

While she hated her talent, she couldn't deny that the fact that she was glad to have it if only because the utp gave you one too, and you would be attending eden's garden academy together.

"Are you OK evie? You look nervous"

She took a deep breath and sat on the bench in the train station

"......yeah, I guess I'm just worried about what people are gonna think about me"

"You mean your talent?"

She nodded as you sat on her right and held her hand

"If people pick on you because you're good at math, then that just means they're stupid and can't handle that someone is prettier and smarter than them"

"Hehe......thanks, but that's now what I meant"

"I know......then just get to know them"

"Huh?"

"If you get to know more people than they'll know the real you, the amazing girl you really are"

"............"

"Eva listen, I'm saying this as your partner and with nothing but your best interests in mind. I think you need more friends"

".....d-don't-"

"Or at least people to talk to, I know you have me, but I'm scared that I'm not enough, I want you to be happy, ok? So please, at least try, I don't care if you fail, but at least try to let people know that you're not just a mathlete, but a genuinely wonderful person"

Eva sighed and you kissed her cheek for comfort

"........I'll try my best"

"That's what I like to hear. Now get up and grab your luggage the train is almost here"

After the train arrived, you walked in it hand in hand, seeing all the faces of your future classmates. Little did you know that that train was gonna be the boat that would bring you to hell.

You knew Eva was lying about her talent. You knew from the moment the words ultimate liar slipped from her mouth, and you also knew exactly the reason why, she had told you why not that long ago after all. And you respected her choice. You didn't even need to talk to each other to make an agreement, with only a single glance she knew you would protect her secret as long as necessary.

The announcement of the killing game and the mock trial felt like a blur, you helped investigate, mostly convinced by your girlfriend, but you still couldn't believe it, sure the body was just a puppet but it was the recreation of a real murder, someone was killed so brutally, it made you.....sick.

And when the killing game was officially started that sickness spread over your entire body, will someone of your classmates be killed in such a brutal way? Will you? ......will Eva?

When Wolfgang started to speak, you wanted to say something. Sure, it was nice to think that no one was going to murder each other, but you knew it was impossible. You only started to talk when everyone singled out Eva and Damon for speaking their mind. You defended them, obviously. You told them that Eva was right, and even if it was a harsh truth, it still was the truth. After being judged because of that you just hugged Eva and you two went to sleep in her dorm.

The day the infirmary was revealed, Eva's true ultimate was too. You couldn't do anything but the exact same thing you had been doing this entire time, comfort Eva and try to counter your classmates' comments directed at her. You hugged her again, and you could feel how heavy and tired she was, even if she didn't want to let you know, everything that happened was weighing heavily in her mind.

"C-can you come with me?"

"Huh?"

You opened your eyes and looked down at Eva. She was still hugging you, but her eyes were now locked on yours

"Sure"

She guided you to a point in the infirmary and pointed at something

"A......plushie advertisement?"

"Yes, I already showed it to damon"

"......d-do you want me to buy it?"

"H-huh?"

"I thought you already had a plush-"

She blushed and quickly shut you up

"N-no it's not the plushie, it's a code"

"Oh for the door?"

"Duh"

"Did you figure it out yet?"

"...........no"

For the second time in the game, she lied

"Oh, I see, it's alright if you don't, these kidnappers seem really smart"

"........yeah"

"Well, me and Diana wanted to eat together. Do you wanna join us?"

"No it's fine, I'll go take a nap"

"That's understandable after everything that happened, love you"

"Yeah"

You kissed her cheek and started to go outside but stopped and looked back

"Hey Eva?"

"Hm"

"Can I.....tell you something?"

She nodded and you started approaching her

"..........I'm scared"

"Huh?"

"I'm scared that I'll die, that you'll die and that I couldn't do anything about it.....so can you at least promise me something?"

".......o-of course, what is it?"

You put your pinky in the air

"Let's make it a pinky promise"

"......seriously?" That's so dumb"

"Come on, just do it"

She sighed and intertwined her own pinky with yours

"Let's promise each other that we'll never kill someone"

"W-what?"

"I can't do anything if someone decides to kill you, I can only hope no one does, but if you kill someone, then you'll most likely die..........and if you don't-"

"Then you'll die, with everyone else"

"Yeah, so let's promise that we'll never kill anyone, so our chances of survival increase"

The next words she said were the third best choice she did in her life because, like her confession and acceptance of your friendship, her own soul spoke unfiltered by her brain or other emotions

"..........yes, I promise"

"Great! It's a pinky promise, remember. So if you break it your pinki will fall"

She giggled

"I think that will be the last of my concerns if I kill someone"

"Hehe, Yeah I guess you're right"

You kissed Eva on the cheek and went outside, waving at her. She waved back as her smile faded, she looked at her pinky.... and went to her dorm.

She couldn't handle it anymore, the thoughts were eating up her mind, she was going to die, everyone hated her, of course she was going to be the first victim, she would die.......so she needed to do something about it.

She wiped her tears with her sleeve and put her glasses back on, went to the infirmary and found herself face to face with the door.

She imputed the first two numbers automatically almost as if her body moved itself, she was about to imput the third when she actually started thinking

What did she want to gain by going in that room? She didn't even know what was on the other side..........was she just curious?

No, she knew. She knew that whatever she was gonna find would seal her fate, that it would force her to kill someone.......force

It's funny that she used that words in her thoughts, force, like she didn't already knew who to kill and how to do it, like she didn't already know who to frame and how to act in the class trial, like she didn't already look through the infirmary to see if there were hallucinogenics.

She inputted the third number and took a moment to breathe, her hand on her chest.

When she was about to move her finger in the direction of the last panel, she noticed something.

The floor was wet.

She looked down and saw that her shirt was too, not by much, it was when she brushed her hand against her cheek that she realized where the water was coming from.

She was crying.

How did she not realize it all this time? Why was she sad? She had already decided her fate, was she scared of getting found out and dying? she had nothing to live for anyway, everyone in this damn academy hated her, she was going to die anyway and no one was going to care about it, they weren't going to investigate how she died and the person who killed her would probably be cheered as they got executed. There was no one who cared about her, just like in her entire life.......no one cared about the true her.

Her finger grazed the fourth number when she remembered something

"Let's promise that we'll never kill someone"

"I love you because you're you ok evie?"

As soon as those words entered her mind, she just fell down on her knees, her body unable to hold the weight of her conscience anymore. She started crying, this time knowing exactly why.

She was going to betray you. She was willing to let you die just because of something that wasn't even true. You cared about her, the real her, you would have cried if she died, and you would have felt betrayed if she killed someone. You loved her, and she betrayed that love by even thinking about committing the murder. She didn't deserve you, she needed to say sorry to your face.

When she finished crying, she immediately went to your dorm, the knocking woke you up, and you were confused to see that Eva was no longer in bed with you. You were worried, considering that you decided to bunk together, so you carefully opened part of the door and saw it was your girlfriend, you saw that her eyes were red so your worry grew even more, you completely opened the door and Eva immediately tackled you in a hug.

"E-eva, what's-"

"I'm *sobs* so sorry, I'm so so sorry"

You could see she started crying crying, so you held her close and started comforting her, not caring about the tears getting on your shirt.

When she calmed down, she sat on the bed and started explaining everything to you, about how everything was getting to her and drove her to think about killing someone. She expected you to hate her. She was one step away from betraying you and throwing away her life, you were very justified to hate her, to break up with her, as much as she didn't want that to happen.....because then she would have been truly alone.

But you hugged her instead, and told her that it was OK, that the fact that she didn't go through was what mattered, that you would always be there for her, no matter what happened

"N-no you- you don't understand!"

She continued sobbing between words

"I-I was about to kill someone, to break our promise! I was ready to throw away your life because of this game!"

"......................"

"W-why did you forgive me so fast!? Why don't you hate me!?"

"........I could never hate you"

"H-huh?"

"I love you Eva I love you so much, I already told you so many times, I know that in a normal situation you'd never do something like this, I don't hate you, I hate tozu and this game, because I've seen the real you, and the real Eva is a girl that would never commit a murder, I feel in love with you and I could never hate you. I love you Eva, please remember that"

Eva wanted to say something more, but she just felt so tired. She had cried and felt too many emotions for a day, so she just thanked you and held onto your body as you two drifted to sleep.

The next day, she woke up feeling better. The night spent thinking about the situation and waking up next to you made her realize how lucky she was to have you and that she should hold on to you and love you just as much as you did.

After talking it over and getting ready, you two went to the dining room where Cassidy told you she had found a copy of super slam sisters and asked you to participate in a tournament.

"Oh, you love that game, eva . Do you wanna participate together?"

"I.........."

She looked at you smiling so brightly at her........and smiled back

"Yeah, I think having fun is what I need"

"Great! So we have all the couples, get ready cause it will be a blast!"

When the game tournament started, you held Eva's hand as you two watched the other students play.

"OK now it's Eva's and y/n's turn"

"Get ready evie, because this time I'll win!"

She rolled her eyes as she took the controller

"You always say that"

She ended up winning very easily but offered you a kiss as a consolation prince

"Wow that was insane Eva, how did you do that?"

"Oh, it's not that hard. You just have to watch your opponent and move accordingly"

"You gotta teach me that, you might even be able to beat me! Let's train together sometimes, Please?"

"H-huh?"

"And then we could do your make-up, I wanted to hang out with you......i-if you'd like"

"I.....don't think I'd look good with make-up"

She felt you putting your arm on her shoulder

"I think you'd look amazing in any way"

You smiled again and she felt her heart getting warm, not just at you but at the situation in general, she felt seen and understood, and it was all thanks to you, she's so glad she remembered you yesterday.

She looked back at her pinky and then at you, suddenly you felt Eva's arms wrap around you to the surprise of everyone in the room. She simply murmured two words

"Thank you"

You knew exactly why she thanked you, so you just hugged her back until she pulled away and looked at you again.

You cared about her, the real her, you loved her despite everything and she could never imagine a world without you, she could never imagine what she would have done if you weren't there, if you didn't enter her life.

She was so, so glad to have you.

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