#Look either Tommy gets it in which case they are perfect!!!!!!

[pedgito]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader — Series Masterlist (part ii)

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summary | The temptation with Joel is unavoidable, one consequential choice leading to several, but with time, you find that healing is easier with someone just as broken as you.

author's note | I DID NOT FORGET THEM I SWEAR. i know the first part was posted in july and i abandoned my baby i'm horrible. BUT, the writing bug is back in full force and this chapter was already halfway done so PLEASE ENJOY. i missed these two dearly.

content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma, no one's making good choices here, lowkey religion kink?? if you get it, you get. fingering, unprotected piv sex, semi-public sex, mentions of deconstruction, alcohol tw, this is packed with so much stuff i'm sorry

word count —11k

PART ONE, PART THREE (tbd)

The tweed sweater is more grating than the sound of your mother’s voice as you approach the doorstep of the Miller’s home. It’s fucking itchy, scratching at your neck in desperation to strip yourself of your more modest church clothes the moment you crosses the threshold. Your mother seems to notice your fidgeting, swatting at your hand with a look of unmistaken warning.

Cut it out. 

Your hand drops to your side, fingers curling into your palm as they dig into the skin. The pain squeezes at your vocal cords, keeping you quiet. Tommy always looks slightly ridiculous when you step out for church on Sundays—starched jeans and perfectly ironed plaid button up to match, paired with an egregious belt buckle and cowboy boots. 

The thing was though, he fit in perfectly. And you couldn’t hate Tommy, it was nearly impossible.

Once inside, you’re already beelining for the attic with your shoes slipped off by the door and ready to strip down the layers of clothes to quell the sticky heat that was lingering on your skin. But, there’s a creak to your left and a voice you hadn’t heard since the night before, under…more nefarious pretenses. But, he didn’t know that. You shouldn’t either.

Your eyes can’t meet his own as he rounds the corner, damp hair dripping droplets of water onto his clothed shoulders. He doesn’t speak to you, but he does look you over. There’s a smugness in his expression, amusement at your outfit like he knows. A perfect, modest length appropriate dress with that ugly fucking sweater your mom insisted on you wearing. You hate it, it was smeared all over your face, lips pulled into a tight line as your mother began barraging both of the brothers at once.

“She’ll come with,” You attention focuses back on the conversation halfway through, sneaking a small peak at Joel’s tired features, scratching at his beard with his other hand settled against his hips, so desperately wanting to escape the conversation, “I don’t need her being a nuisance while Joel’s trying to sleep.”

“She lives here,” Tommy points out, “I’m sure she can keep quiet. Do you wanna tag along?”

“No,” you respond with evident distaste, but there was also the creeping worry of being alone with Joel again, unsure how to approach your unfavorable behavior with him, “I’d really rather not, if that’s okay.”

Tommy offers a shrug to your mother, reminiscent of a told you so, before he’s cracking a joke at Joel’s expense, who still hadn’t spoken a word.

“Keep this loner some company anyways, he needs it,” Tommy jests.

“Well, we’ll be out until the evening,” your mother adds, almost like it was a bad thing which wasn’t nearly the case, in fact—it was a heavy weight off your chest, “so call if you need anything and sweetheart, mind your manners.”

“She’ll be alright,” Joel interjects suddenly, “ain’t never caused any problems with me.”

Your mother nods despite her inclination to make a comment or prove a point and after a tense goodbye and a hug that was far too tight, she’s dragging Tommy out the front door again and it shuts with a deafening click as Joel still remained in his previous position, eying the floor for a time before his eye meet your own as yank at the buttons of your sweater and shrug it off your shoulders.

The events over the past few weeks were clawing at your gut, that nervous and fluttering feeling driving you to silence—girl, always testin’ me—it was a constant echo in your head. That, flurried with his grunts and the sight of his hand gripping his cock. And your teasing words were no better, inviting him in and welcoming the temptation.

You had to cut the cord—this wasn’t you. It was wrong, sinful, the shame sitting on your tongue and bitter to swallow. It didn’t matter that it didn’t feel wrong, factually, it was. You would be shamed, frowned upon, rejected by your own mother if she even caught a whiff of your advances toward Joel. But, he’d lied for you when he didn’t have to and that was more confusing than it needed to be. 

Joel clears his throat, “I’m gonna head to bed, worked a fifteen hour shift and I’m barely standin’ right now,” Your gaze flicks up as you kneel on the couch, settling into the cushion but leaning yourself slightly over the arm, “you gonna be alright?”

You nod silently and watch as he returns the motion and turns on his heels, the floorboards creaking under the weight and there was no chance like now—say it, just apologize.

“Joel,” you say louder than needed, but it does the trick, “I—you lied for me to my mother, you didn’t have to and I’m…sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I—”

There’s a flickering of guilt across his own face that you’re familiar with, knowing he’s dreamt of you in the exact ways you’ve suggested and while he doesn’t audibly admit it, his thoughts almost project, eyes racking over your chest for a beat to long as they press together under your thin top and peek through the deep cut in your shirt.

“No harm done,” He lies, his eyes noticeable flicking back up toward your gaze and you don’t react, neither does he, “no sense in pissing her off more than she already is with you all the time, right?”

“Right,” you mumble dejectedly, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you settle into the cushion more permanently, “just…thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies assuredly, knowing he’d done you a favor with the expectation that it might absolve him of some of his own guilt about the entire situation—but just as Joel was being disingenuous, he suspected you were too.

Save your own ass and all that.

It didn’t matter and Joel knew it was better to move beyond it entirely.

Except his dreams are invaded with the sight of your tits, pert and perfect as he squeezed them under his grip and he swears he can feel the warmth of your skin, your smell, but the deep slumber quickly pulls him under.

-

There’s only so much to occupy your day, having made a few snacks for yourself and wandered aimlessly around Joel’s home, even managed a short nap amongst his soft snoring from his cracked bedroom door, occasionally looking around the corner or over your shoulder to find him sleeping deeply. By high noon, you’re restless. It was hot. Wicked summer heat. You decided to change into your swimsuit and head outside, grabbing a towel and a bottle of newly purchased sunscreen.

There’s a few reclining lawn chairs on Joel’s back deck luckily, snagging one as you drag it toward the lawn and into the sun, squinting at the blistering UV as you bring your sunglasses down your face and allow them to make home on the bridge of your nose. The neighbors have their sprinklers going, giving their gardens a much needed drink during the non-stop dry spell that Austin seemed to be under, the spray hits your skin gingerly as you settle into a good spot and take a seat, spreading the sunscreen out sparingly over your arms and legs, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t be able to reach your back appropriately, but that didn’t matter. 

You untied the back of your top, both at your spine and neck and reclined the chair out completely before resting on your stomach, eyes closed to the quiet hum of afternoon summer and kids playing a few houses down, the soft buzz of dragonflies and bees amongst the foliage.

It was the simple luxuries you enjoyed that weren’t possible with your mother hovering around you, but that was why you had so much appreciation for Tommy, keeping her busy beyond her means and knowing that she was happier when occupied with other things—like him, or the possibilities and expectations that would come with their new life when they did find a place together.

You knew you weren’t going with them, but that was another mountain to climb trying to explain to your mother, knowing it wouldn’t bode well and would end in an all out brawl if you dropped it on her now—in due time, you think. 

Your tendency to fastrack through missed opportunities and experiences were your own downfall, but the newfound freedom was exhilarating, breathing in deep as you closed your eyes and relaxed, several minutes passing before you heard a creak at the backdoor. 

But even then, you don’t move.

You know it’s Joel when the grill lid whines in protest, utensils clinging behind you. 

He doesn’t say a word and forces himself to keep his eyes on the dirtied grill as he scrubs it down ignoring your occasional fidgeting and the soft creaks of the reclined chair, his eyes catching the soft skin of your back, the curve of your breasts as press out at your side, squeezed against the towel you were laying on and the strings dangling toward the grass that Joel had neglected for the past couple weeks and he’s only realizing his wandering eyes when his hand slips through the slit in the grill and drops the sponge into the ash, cursing loudly to himself.

“Was I being too loud?”

Joel tosses the sponge to the side and opens the tray to dump out the remaining remnants of  ash from their last cookout, walking toward the dumpster near the gate leading to the front yard, no further than a few yards from you as he mumbles a quiet, “No. Wasn’t you.”

Weird. Your brow furrows for a moment before you reaching for the bottle of sunscreen, taking advantage of the extra pair of hands as you offer the bottle to his empty ones, the plastic cap hitting his stomach as you press it against him, hands pressed tight over your swim top to keep your breasts covered, despite how much the material failed to hide.

“Just my back,” you explain, “I can’t reach it. Well—I can, but I’m definitely missing some spots.”

Joel’s fingers curl around the bottle but he doesn’t pull and your fingers haven’t left either, grazing against the denim at his waist and you sigh in subtle frustration. 

“Joel, it isn’t a trick,” you promise, “besides, with your hands it’ll take like, two seconds.”

He makes a face at that, halfway between amused and mortified. You shove the bottle deeper against his stomach, insistent as you raise your eyebrows.

“Oh, come on,” You beg, “It’s sunscreen, get over it.”

There it was. The snark you couldn’t hide, like second nature with him. He snatches the bottle with his tongue slipping under his top lip as he snaked it over his teeth and popped the cap with his thumb, flashing a content smile in his direction as you settle back on your stomach, pushing down at the strings of your bottoms slightly to offer the full expanse of your back.

Joel, poor Joel, swallows around the lump in his throat and tries indefinitely to ignore the everlasting bulge that grew in your presence, a side effect of inappropriate thoughts and your sharp tongue. He’s pathetic and he knows it. 

He kneels down between your split legs, one knee on the cheap plastic and his other foot planted firmly in the grass as he hovers. It was as close as he could allow himself, a few inches forward and he would have his thigh pressed against your center, the swell of your pussy grinding against his jeans and he wouldn’t be able to resist, pulling at the loose ties and diving into the sweet divine. 

You clear your throat, turning your cheek to rest against the back of your palm as you wait with the cold tip of your cross necklace snug between your lips, a self-satisfied smile growing on your face as the warmth of his hand contrasts the cool sunscreen, a broad stripe up your back from tailbone to neck as his fingers fold over your shoulder and drag against the chain before he’s tossing the bottle into the grass to make use of his other hand, spreading the sunscreen out evenly on the full expanse of your back.

A pseudo massage masked in the way his thumbs rub along the center of your skin, fingers rubbing in the sunscreen along your side, just along the curve of your hips before they’re back up at your shoulders and the muscle is being squeezed gently under his grip.

“You’re tense, kid,” Joel notes, pulling away to wipe his cream covered hands on the towel, catching your gaze.

“With a mother like mine, wouldn’t you be?”

Joel pauses briefly, a silent acknowledgment as he stands, vehemently ignoring the way your legs slip together and your ass pushes up into the air slightly as you reposition yourself.

He grimaces at how sticky his hands feel still, reaching for the spout on the siding and gripping the hose in his hand as the water pours out, hot for a moment as it slips out before it rushes out ice cool, wetting his hands generously.

“Can’t stand getting a little messy, can you?” You tease when you hear the water run behind you, lifting up on your forearm to peer at the older man, his face still frozen in a tight grimace but his eyes briefly turning up toward you.

What a little shit. 

His thumb slides over the opening on the hose and transforms the flow into a forceful spray as he lifts stream and at the chair you were lounging in, forcing you up in a matter of seconds while Joel rendered you drenched, top forgotten as you slip your arm over your breasts in attempt to retain some decency.

The cause of action only dawns on Joel in the aftermath, watching you sopping wet as you stomp toward him and attempt to yank the hose from his grip, the option for turning the spout off forgotten—it couldn’t be that simple.

Joel quickly extends the main end of the hose from your grip with a tug of a smirk and you huff, hard through your nose as you twist and press your back against his chest as you wrestle for his arm, in a wrestle for the hose his arm finds home against your chest and you gradually fall to your knees, tackled by Joel in a manner that is surprisingly gentle despite your frustration.

But, somehow you end up chest to chest and none of the effort is worth it, even as you turn the house on him and the water soaks his clothes and your chest, hose slapping into the grass as you toss it aside, breath catching as your heart raced from the exertion.

Joel makes the mistake of shifting to move, his knees hiking behind the curve of your ass and pushing his clothed cock against your core, only separated by a couple layers of clothes, his denim against your think bikini tied lazily at your waist and his eyes drag down by pure coincidence as he tries to find his grip against the grassy surface.

There it was—his eyes on your chest, your eyes on him, and his cock hard against your cunt in an unignorable way. 

Joel quickly scrambles to his feet with a frustrated clear of his throat, ignoring you like a quick spreading plaque as he left his tasks behind to disappear as quickly as he had resurfaced and you reach blindly for your top, draping it over your chest hastily as you tried and failed to piece together what the hell had just transpired. 

It was like a shot of adrenaline in your bloodstream as you sat up, the world spinning in a way that made you woozy—you turned toward the back door, slightly ajar from the force Joel used to shut it, slamming against the frame before it popped back open.

He could deny you all he wanted, but his body couldn’t lie—wondering if he was running off to finish himself like he had the night before, almost daring to chase after him.

But instead, you hide.

Decisive and calculated, you’d wait him out.

Like meek prey, he’d seek you out if the hunger struck. 

—

After a swift shower you barricade yourself upstairs, the murmuring voices below lulling you to sleep as you skip dinner—you couldn’t speak to Joel, wouldn’t. 

He lies for you, despite knowing that your avoidance of dinner was entirely his own fault.

Sort of.

It was a double-edged sword, both parties responsible.

 But, Joel feels the guilt faster, easier, and he drowns it away in a six pack of beers Tommy brings home as he and his brother, and his soon-to-be sister in law enjoyed a quiet dinner, the occasional complaint slipping from your mother’s lips as she ate.

“She wasn’t feeling too good,” Joel fibs, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, crumbling the flimsy material in his fist, “I can bring her a plate up later, after I clean up—”

“Oh, please,” She holds her hand up to interrupt, politely refusing, “we’ll clean up, won’t we?”

Tommy squints, eyeing the table full of dirtied dishes but nods regardless. 

Always the yes man. Joel smirks, a flippant chuckle under his breath.

Joel tips back the final bottle of beer and swallows it down, having learned to manage his alcohol well after years of casual drinking that had slowly morphed into a crutch. He gets the buzz, the warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest but otherwise it was undetectable, aside from the hasty decision making to find a reason to bother you after the wrestling match that afternoon. 

He quietly piled the food onto a plate, working around the kitchen and squeezing past the other two bodies before he’s yanking at the cord to the attic stairs, your body lunging up at the sound, nearly jumping out of your own skin as the light peeks through and the hard, heavy footsteps follow.

Joel hears the both of them, Tommy and your mother, as they finish up in the kitchen and trail off into their own respective room in the house, pulling at the handle with his unoccupied hand to seal out the creeping light from downstairs. He slides the plate of food on the dresser shoved against the nearest wall before his head is turning toward you, watching as you rubbed at your eyes, faking the grogginess from a deep sleep you never managed to fall into, running both hands through the front of your hair before they’re flattening out against your duvet, wondering which one of you should speak first.

Both hands shoved into his front pockets, he turns to you fully. He’s changed from earlier, denim traded for a soft cloth; sweats, paired with his usual dark washed shirt.

Relaxed. He looks…relaxed. His eyes are undeniably softer, too. His lips rubbing together tight before his tongue slips out to wet them and he’s still standing, waiting—for what, you’re not sure.

“I’ll eat it later,” you appease his lingering presence, taken aback as the words seem to bring him back to life, socked feet soft against the wood floors but the intent is heavy and intimidating, “I will, I promise—“

You weren’t lying, you would. 

But, then the bed creaks as he takes a seat and your legs widen to make room for him, the blanket slipping down your thighs and revealing bare legs under a long t-shirt, having changed out of your damp clothes too. 

Closer, you can see the flush in his chest. Cheeks warm and hot, you’re sure if you touched him it would be confirmed. Drunk? It didn’t seem likely, but he had definitely been drinking, a deep but quiet sigh coming from his chest before he spoke.

“Don’t apologize,” you began before he could get the words out, “god—don’t, just…”

“I was gonna ask if you’re feelin’ alright,” Joel begins, turning toward you hesitantly, a fist curled and stamped into the mattress, watching the muscle of his bicep and forearm flex with the action, core clenching at the sight of it.

You nod lazily, “How was dinner?”

He knows you’re not asking about the food.

“Typical,” He responds lightly, “your mom loves carryin’ the conversation, doesn’t she?”

“She just enjoys the sound of her own voice.”

Joel chuckles quietly, hand unfurling and his fingers grazing against your knee. For a moment, you think it could be an accident, but as you find a surge of confidence and drag your fingers over his own, pulling his hand up to your face curiously, making a show to smell his hand with a light quip thrown his way.

“Got all the sunscreen off finally,” You joke and the stretched out glimpse of you flashes through Joel’s mind, his fingers pulling at tied strings, the nylon falling against thick blades of grass, “did you enjoy your shower?”

Joel quirks his brow, curious.

Right, he didn’t know. A momentary lapse of judgment letting the words slip.

“You know, was it…peaceful? Nice?” 

No additional expletives groaned out under the steady stream, fist wrapped around his cock? Selfishly your eyes wandered toward the no longer tented material, having caught quite the eyeful earlier—and felt it just the same.

His hand slowly drops to the bedsheet, thumb grazing the cream material while the rest of his fingers curl over your knee, your own hand placed atop it, an unspoken but welcomed touch.

He was losing his mind, surely.

He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have sat down. 

But, Joel lied for you and that was the first mistake.

“I lied for you, again,” He comes clean, emphasis on his final word as his eye flicks up despite his downturned gaze, watching your thumb rub into the spot between his own and pointer finger, “makin’ habit of it, it seems.”

A soft breath mingles between the space, tight and tense, too intimidated to confront him head on now, shaking your head at his words, “You were the one who said my secret was safe, remember?”

His large hand flexes around yours as he presses the back of your hand into the sheets, held prison under his grip, “You know I never meant it like that—“

“Didn’t you?” You counter, turning your eyes up toward him cautiously, daring him to confess.

Our secret, alright?

It was the gateway—one small lie unfolding into many and soon it would be like breathing, second nature. 

“Why are you still here?” There’s a softness in your tone that beckons a confession, but Joel’s hard-headed. 

So, he retaliates.

“Why haven’t you asked me to leave?” His eyebrows raise, a subtle smile pulling at his lips that was brought up by the inhibitions of alcohol, mostly Joel but there was something lingering.

The words float through your head, climb up your throat, but you can’t force them to leave your mouth, eyes softening under his gaze as a warm, careful hand caresses up your thigh, fingertips grazing your clothed cunt, the wet heat undeniable as it seeps through your underwear.

You can smell the beer on his breath but it doesn’t stop your hand from clawing up his chest and behind his neck, allowing him to pull your leg over his lap, spread wide on your bed as he fit between them, “You’ve been drinking,” it was obvious, but Joel shakes his head, tongue licking at his bottom lip as his left hand squeezes at your calf, “haven’t you?”

“That bother you?” He wonders—he’s mostly unaffected, you can tell. The creeping flush to his face a mix of the alcohol and you, he’s just as in his right mind as you, the inside of his palm reaching further to cup your cunt, rubbing gently with the heel of his palm.

A breathy sigh and a head shake in return as your legs spread wider, hips canting into his touch as your hand falls to your side, exposing your clothed chest to him, breasts peeking through the sheer fabric of your top while your other hand grips Joel’s neck harder, blunt fingernails digging into the skin.

“What are you doing?” You ask carefully, not wanting to startle him. 

It doesn’t even seem to phase him, though. His hand moves forward slightly to push your shirt up your stomach before it slipped beyond the fabric of your underwear and against your bare skin, two fingers sliding between your folds to press into your sticky slick.

“Giving you what you want,” Like it was obvious; the constant taunting, ill-mannered behavior, his own resolve finally breaking and the guilt he was feeling disappearing in an instant now that he has you like this, a clandestine sight, “—s’what you wanted, right?”

You nod, a subtle jerk of your head.

At the notion, his hands are in two different directions—one hand is tracing the chain that wore like armor, a dainty necklace your mother had gifted you when you were young that was the only significance you had to show for with her, your undying faith. He slips the necklace around and between your shoulder blades, out of sight. His other hand slips between your thighs until they’re finding home against your cunt. Absent fingers drifting deeper between your shoulder blades, delicate touches tracing along your spine over soft skin until he’s back at the nape of your neck and squeezing, determined fingers rubbing slowly at your sensitive clit, a stuttered and quiet gasp falling from your lips.

He’s not the first man to touch you like this, but he was skilled. No fumbling hands and hesitant touches, there was surety in his movements and his gaze that didn’t shy from yours in embarrassment or lack of care.

Joel Miller was in the mood to watch you fall apart for his own entertainment.

“Shh,” He reminds you, a soft command, “don’t need them gettin’ curious.”

You shake your head in agreement, a plethora of sins being committed in the act of one greedy and selfish desire, “Mo—More,” You plead, feeling his fingers slide down the center of your cunt before they’re breaching your tight hole and pressing inside. Joel grunts as you pull at his short curls, his tongue resting wanting over his bottom teeth, yearning for a taste.

“Take it off,” He demands, “wanna see those pretty tits, darlin’.”

Your skin prickles with anticipation, separating from him briefly to pull your shirt over your head and Joel, in a moment of blind lust, takes the advantage of you on your back to yank your panties down your ankles and balling them up, thrown haphazardly near the top of your bed as he settles on his knees between your outstretched legs—

God, he’s going to hell.

And you want to kiss him, the feeling so strong it sends an ache down your core, releasing a shaky breath as he squeezes at your thighs before his fingers continue, dipping inside of you with ease. Luckily, with this position, he’s got a free hand to rub at your clit, thumb pressed firmly against the nub and drawing soft, mewling sounds from your lips. 

It’s intoxicating, the subtle smell of barley and fresh soap. He’s speaking to you in some far off, distant place, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets an inescapable pace. They’re goading words, encouraging and bordering the line of patronizing but you can’t commit them to memory, only coming as another soft command falls from his lips.

Because he sees your fingers itching, needy, “Touch yourself,” He murmurs, his touch somehow more tender as his fingers pump inside of you, thumb working quick circles of your clit as you hands drag feather-light of your breasts, a tickle at the center of your chest before you’re squeezing the flesh under your grip and moaning louder as he changes the angle of his fingers inside of you, deep and undeniably precise. Thick fingers keep you full and satisfied.

He can hear your breath quickening, a silent warning when your brain wasn’t catching up with the rest of your body, words a complete loss. His fingers slip out of you, wet slick smearing over your mouth as he leans forward to muffle the unintentional cry that falls from your lips as he pulls you over the edge with a mere motion of his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut as you come.

The pleasure blooms inside, teeth digging gently into the skin of his palm as you selfishly savor the feeling, Joel only moving away when your eyes fall back on him—back to reality.

“How’s that for a mess?” Joel doesn’t miss a beat, turning your earlier jab back on you as you notice the gleam on his fingers, thin strings of slick hang between his fingers as he separates them and you pull at his wrist, knowing that Joel would follow through the rest of the way, pressing his fingers to your lips as you clean him, tongue dragging along the digits diligently.

You swear you hear Joel groan, but it was muffled by your own squeak as Joel grabbed at your chin, flesh pinched between his fingers, “Eat your damn dinner,” He demands, but you quickly muffle him with the fabric of your underwear, shoving it into his mouth before you move dangerously close to his face, still under the stern grip of his hand.

“No problem,” You appease him, “and a suggestion—”

Pulling the fabric from his mouth, you aren’t amiss as he pockets it, his eyebrows raising in question.

“Double check your doors next time you decide to jerk off to me.”

Because if anything, you wanted him to be more deliberate.

Joel’s flush deepens, shame flashing in his eyes for a brief moment before you break out into a playful smile as you sing softly, “Goodnight, Joel.”

Joel’s never had a harder time falling asleep, night creeping into dawn before the slumber finally takes him, riddled with a guilt that is indescribable. 

–

Breakfast is quiet.

Too quiet.

You pick lazily at the fresh blueberry muffins your mother had baked that morning, watching as Tommy conversed with Joel across the living room, both of them nursing steaming cups of coffee. Your mother notices your trailing gaze, mistaking it for you spacing out as she perks up, speaking from beside you as she pours more orange juice into your empty glass.

“I was thinking we could do something in town today,” She begins, “all of us—Joel, too. Tommy mentioned they’ve got a fair going on downtown—food, music, plenty to keep you interested.”

You slip the blueberry beyond your lips and chomp down, “What’s the occasion? Big news? Don’t tell me your pregnant—”

Your name comes out as a stark warning, the plastic bottle of orange juice crunching under her grip, “That is not—no, I’m not. But, Tommy and I…may have put an offer down on a house, if you’re that curious. We were gonna drive by on the way there and show it to you.”

You shake your head nonchalantly, “Joel was actually going to take me to that cowboy museum a couple towns over—I forgot to ask, but you don’t care, right?”

Joel perks up at the mention of his name, his conversation with Tommy stalling.

“I mean, I’ll be with Joel,” You remind her, “I’ll be safe, won’t I?”

Your head turns over your shoulder, catching Joel’s surprised expression and watching as it slowly morphs into understanding, silently following the path you had so carefully constructed as he approaches the counter at your side, pressing his mug into the counter.

“I shoulda mentioned it,” He lies through his teeth, “slipped my mind, but it’s alright with you?”

She swallows. Tense. 

Tommy interjects then and chuckles, clapping a hand over his brother’s shoulder.

“History of cowboys?” He asks, “Oh come on, sweetheart. Let ‘em go, they can always meet up with us after.”

She folds for Tommy, of course. Flashing an apprehensive smile that you knew too well, eyes flitting toward the pair of brother’s with a cynical regard, catching Joel’s tight expression for a brief moment. You had lied, big deal.

 It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done as of late, watching the leisurely swagger of Joel’s walk as he steps toward the coffee pot, offering a sturdy goodbye over his shoulder as the lovebirds make their escape, leaving you both under the thick cloud of unspoken tension.

With disregard, he walks past you and sips noisily at his coffee, taking a seat on the couch with the low hum of the morning news as your sock covered feet pat softly against the floor. Your thigh presses against the arm hanging over the couch as you squeeze by, but you’re stopped by Joel’s foot pressing into the coffee table, blocking your path.

“You make plans for somethin’ I’m unaware of?” 

You huff out a soft laugh through your nose before you shove at his foot gently, knocking it to the ground before you’re climbing over his lap, mug screeching against the table as Joel scrambles to place it down, his hands falling against your hips instinctively as you settle over him, tight shorts crawling up your thighs and settling in the crease of your hips.

His touch is intimate—and warm, god his hands were always so warm. Your fingers scratch testingly at his patchy facial hair, a delicate touch that extends to his mused morning hair, untouched and still riddled with sleep. Then he’s inhaling hard as your lips press to his without preamble, his mouth opening in a quiet sigh and your tongue find the opportunity and slips beyond his lips, dragging over his teeth as it swipes against his own tongue and for a few minutes he melts into you, returning the kiss back feverishly.

But, like a fragile tower—the moment snaps and collapses in on itself as Joel shoves you away, a large hand pressed against your collarbone as you yelp at the sudden movement, slightly disappointed as you frown.

“Stop,” he breaths out harsh, his hand fisting in your shirt as he peers up you through a half-lidded gaze, “you—we can’t keep doin’ this, kid.”

“No one’s here,” you murmur, pushing at his hand but it doesn’t budge, so you settle for his thighs, cotton material smooth to the touch as you fingers climb until they can settle near his groin, rubbing your clothed cunt against his hardened cock, a noticeable tent in his pants, “if you worried about getting caught.”

“I know you’re doing this to get back at your mother,” Joel begins, but he never gets the chance to finish.

“And if I was doing this for me?” You counter, “Because I want to? What would you say then?”

There’s a long beat of silence, Joel’s hands pressing into your hips again to keep you still, frozen in place and unable to chase the pleasure you were so desperately after.

“Naive,” He offers, “childish—downright stupid, if you think about it. I’m twice your age and if the other reason wasn’t obvious, well—“

“We’re not blood related,” you argue, “it isn’t nearly the same thing and you know it.”

You lean forward, crowding into his space once more, the ghost of his breath across your lips as he eyes follow, his head leaning back as you move in, hesitant. 

“Besides, I think you’ve ruined all other men for me,” You goad, a salacious grin spreading across your face, “your fingers—Joel, they’re—“

At a loss for words, you sigh, hips dropping against his groin pointedly, he grunts and you can see the hard line of his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

“I’m not the one, darlin’. You can’t compare me to them—I’m old, I’ve lived. Don’t think you gotta settle for me.”

Joel has sequestered himself to loneliness—after his separation from his wife, the loss of his daughter, he was content being alone. Living alone. Dying alone. 

Drowned out by bad decisions and alcohol, he’s found himself regretting his choices once again, but not for the reasons he had hoped.

He didn’t regret you—his actions with you, but how the repercussions would affect you if your mother found out, his brother. There was no coming back, no explanation that could justify his actions.

But you’re sitting, pouting in his lap as your finger twirls around the string of his sleep pants and he knows that look—more, give me more.

Nothing would satiate that hunger.

“I’m not a virgin, you know,” you add as if it may magically heal things, but the next words out of your mouth have Joel squeezing at the flesh of your hips, words that make his cock pulse under his clothes, “I think you enjoy corrupting me, too. My mom put me on birth control the second she was able, afraid I’d turn out like her.”

Luckily, you hadn’t. She’d never let you live that down.

You press in further, a hand climbing up to press against the column of Joel’s throat, lips sliding against his as you whisper, “Do you wanna ruin me, Joel?”

All you get in response is a growl, deep and intense as he surges forward, kissing you soundly to shut you up.

It was a weight off your chest, a sharp breath as he slips his tongue into your mouth as you part your lips as his fingers pull at the base of your scalp, a sharp sting of pain drowned out by pleasure.

“Upstairs,” he ordered, mouth down your neck hungrily, “in your room, now.”

The heated, dark look in his eyes tells you that you weren’t going alone, his footsteps trailing behind you.

-

He splits you open with his thighs, already bare underneath him as he’s stripped himself of everything but his pants, sans his underwear he definitely wasn’t wearing, an unreadable expression on his face. Pinched, his brow furrowed as he lingered around you, hands pressing into the mattress but not you, careful that his hands didn’t stray too far again.

“Should I say my morning prayers?” You tease, your pointer finger trailing down the center of his chest, both of your eyes following the digit until it hooks into the waistband of his underwear, “Absolve you of some guilt?”

“It ain’t guilt,” Joel retorts, dark eyes flicking up toward you, “you really think all that prayin’ actually works?”

You shrug, “I dunno what I think anymore—what do you believe in, Joel?”

Joel chuckles lowly, ignoring your hand as it slips beyond the material to touch him, his cock heavy in your hands, feeling the surreality of the moment hit you all at once as his hips keen into the touch, a subtle gesture as his fists settle into the space beside your head.

“Ain’t never believe in nothing,” He responds quieter, “easier that way.”

You hum softly, nodding absently to his response as you force the final piece of clothing down his hips, his eyes never really leaving you—wandering, maybe, but you have his full attention.

“Come on, Joel,” You squander, giving his cock a light squeeze before your hand trails up his chest, fingers forming to the lines of his jaw as your fingers glide over his scruff, “Easier?”

“You’re brainwashed,” He admits, pausing to slip his hand between your bodies and drifting over your cunt before he slips two fingers inside of you without warning, a gasp ripping from your throat but quickly settling as his fingers work inside of you meticulously, dragging with gentle pressure against your walls, “can’t think for yourself without feelin’ guilt, can you?”

He’s making a mockery of the beliefs you’ve been under for years—you get it, you do. But, it seems to strike a nerve when you dig deeper, unsure why, amongst your building pleasure the taunting scripture slips from your lips in an attempt to rile him further.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just—” Your voice wavers as Joel’s attention snaps to your soft words, eyes locked on his unreadable expression, “ and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousn—”

A tight squeeze at the cross around your neck does him in.

A familiar sound slips beyond his lips, a hungry and deep set growl as he breaks from you, manhandling you with force onto your stomach and in an attempt to muffle your antics and silence you, a hand pressed against the back of your neck, face pressed into the soft fluff of your pillow as his voice rumbles behind you.

“Ain’t gonna listen to that shit,” Joel gripes, his free hand binding to your waist as he lifts your hips up, back arched and ass up, breathing out a soft noise of protest as he squeezes at your skin, “—you done?”

You shake your head weakly, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as the full expanse of his hand slides over your cheek, pressing your face deeper into the pillow, his thumb tracing along the corner of your mouth.

“There’s no savin’ yourself from this, sweetheart,” Joel acknowledges, a vague but somehow crystal clear way of checking in, assuring there was consent to follow through—that you wanted this.

“I know,” You mumble around the finger that glides over your lip, a calloused thumb against soft, fleshy lips.

Joel presses inside of you with a low groan, mixed with a tight hiss as you clench around him instinctively, your eyes drifting shut as his cock fits inside your tight walls, both hands drifting to the pillow under your head and gripping tight as he begins a slow, steady snap of his hips in utter silence, forceful exhales coming from his nose as he fucks you from behind, noting the way your lips drift apart when he presses just a little too deep, the skin between your eyes scrunching up at the bridge of your nose.

His thumb presses inside of your mouth, against the inside of your cheek before pressing against your tongue, effectively silencing you, “Go on,” Joel taunts, “keep prayin’.”

Your eyes roll back as the hand gripping your waist travels over your stomach and toward your cunt, his middle finger drifting featherlight over your clit in slow circles, your grip in the weak cloth fabric growing tighter—you make an attempt, unintelligible mumbles around his thick finger, followed by a deep snicker of amusement from the man behind you, inside of you.

“Don’t try and convince me you believe that shit,” Joel tells you, “not when you’re beggin’ me to fuck you like this—’ve never been a saint, either.”

Eventually, your mind goes blank, a welcomed numbness as Joel fucks you into the mattress above a squeak boxspring in a home that didn’t belong to you, in a room that has only been yours for a short time, giving in to a forbidden temptation with a man who’s challenged every belief you’ve ever known.

He notices your attention drifting, removing his hand from your mouth, smearing the saliva over your breasts as he jostles you upright, your back pressed tight against his chest as you move against him lazily, feeling the deep, full snap of his hips as he breathes hot and heavy into your neck.

“Just this time,” He promises you, “no more teasin’, or lying—”

The preaching to you was rich, given his own actions. He must be speaking to himself, committing himself to it aloud. You nod regardless, knowing now that you’ve learned his weakness.

Because, like you, it was the unavoidable temptation.

“Another secret?” You tease, feeling the crest of your orgasm building in your gut as he squeezes at your breast, his soft groans evolving into throaty moans, a boisterous surprise to somehow who’s always so forlorn, an empty house with no reason to hide his deep and selfish need for pleasure, you giggle quietly through the force of your orgasm as you both collapse on the mattress, Joel’s hands barely catching himself to avoid the weight of his body pressing into you as he pulls out of you slowly, the bed creaking underneath the movement.

You feel candescent, shirt barely covering your body as you haphazardly drape it over yourself, watching as Joel pulled his sweatpants back up over his hips, his eyes catching on you in a way you’ve never witnessed, his come literally dripping down your thighs and he senses the shift in your expression, immediate guilt flushing your body and showing in the way your body curls in on itself, avoiding the eye contact he was offering. 

He sees it, the way your brain is programmed to feel immediate guilt, shame, and as much as he’d like to think of a way to fix it, he knows that was something you had to work through on your own.

A shower would work for now, though. 

Wash away the sin until the inevitable happens.

-

There is some normalcy that returns to your life as your classes resume, finding that time away from the Miller household was refreshing in a way. Tension with your mother was unavoidable, the wedding on the horizon and the impending truth threatening to come to light—your mother had done an excellent job as sheltering you, brainwashing you, and scaring you into behaving out of fear that you might be stuck down. 

It all seemed small and finite now, that craving to break Joel down for your own pleasure, seeing the shell of a man he was now.

And he, of course, couldn’t even follow through with his own promise to himself.

Though, as you return for the short weekends, he doesn’t always seem like…Joel.

He drinks more, itching toward the end of September soon and a couple months back at school and when you aren’t buried in the sheets of your twin bed or locked away in the darkness of his room when you’re both home alone, he reeks of alcohol and silence.

He doesn’t seem angry or upset, but the sadness is like a wave.

It makes it easier to keep your distance, something Joel acts like he wants, but then he’s seeking you out in the dark again, bourbon on his tongue and you return the messy kiss he presses to your lips, trying to silence your own thoughts by occupying yourself with him.

But, he does sense your hesitancy.

“I’ll go,” He speaks into the darkness, a hand cradling your head as he squeezes at the base of your neck, a comforting gesture despite the cloud that shrouded him, “if you want me to.”

You’ve barely seen him all day, both of the brothers overwhelmingly forlorn, but you don’t pry.

“No, no,” You insist, hushed against his mouth as you seek out his eyes, glossed over and hooded, his shoulders twitching when your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, “you just—you seem tired.”

It was a loaded word, one that Joel doesn’t touch or elaborate on. But, he was tired, physically. Taking on more shifts before the holidays approach, begging to keep himself occupied alongside his brother who was stressing for his own reasons. He’d come to you seeking a weird dichotomy of comfort and it made you feel warm inside, but a tinge of warning couldn’t be ignored.

“Just sleep here,” You suggest, “I’ll wake you early, before they’re up.”

Without protest, he nods.

You can’t explain how easily your bodies mold together on the too small mattress, like this was something you’ve done for years, staring up blankly at the ceiling as Joel snored quietly beside you.

–

“Hey, kiddo,” Tommy boasts from the kitchen counter as descend the stairs, making your pass through the fridge before you’re gone for another week, “school treatin’ you alright?”

“It’s fine,” You shrug noncommittally, ripping a banana from its bunch and reaching for the half empty jug of orange juice, pouring half a cup to sate your stomach, “how’s mom?”

Tommy feels the heaviness around the question, tensing as he sips at his coffee, “Stressed over the wedding, all the planning, ya know—“

“Yeah,” It’s lazy and short, but Tommy knows your relationship with her is less than favorable lately, sensing your desire for freedom and answers, truth rather than careful lies your mother has constructed around you for your safety, “uh, can I ask a question, actually?”

Tommy nods, hearing the faint creaking of the floorboard somewhere distant in the house. 

“Is…Joel okay?” 

Tommy seems surprised, but he masks it quickly.

“Oh, he…usually gets…worse around the anniversary of Sarah’s death,” Your eyes wander, clearly missing crucial information but your eyes drift toward the closed bedroom door that was vehemently off limits, always wondering but never questioning, “shit—we ain’t mentioned her to you?”

You shake your head.

“She died about five years ago, raisin’ her alone had always been tough on Joel but her dying…it’s been hard.”

“His daughter?”

He had a daughter.

I’m old, I’ve lived, the words echoing in your head.

“He…never mentioned her, you’ve never…”

“He won’t,” Tommy tells you, “can’t even bring her up to him most days—I thought I’d mentioned it to you but it must’ve slipped my mind, I’m sorry, kiddo.”

“No, don’t…don’t apologize.” You assure him, taking a sip of the tart juice and peeling slowly at the peel of your banana, “I guess that explains the bottles on the table when I come home every weekend.”

And the alcohol on his breath when he kisses you.

Tommy notes the way you so easily call the house home now, smiling slightly. But, he’s always been aware of his brother’s…problem, not sure how to help or fix the situation without an implosion happening.

In the distance, you can hear your mother calling out for Tommy, his eyes drifting toward the sound.

“Have a good week,” He pressed a gentle kiss at the crown of your head, squeezing at your shoulder before leaning over to speak under his breath, “—you should talk to your mom before you plan on taking that offer, by the way.”

Your attention perks up, his finger drifting toward the envelope hidden under a stack of placemats on the kitchen table before he’s interrupted by another shout from your mother, “I can handle the fallout for you, kiddo. Don’t worry.”

Tommy retreats and eventually, you do too. Snatching the letter up and stowing it away in your bag, you aren’t able read through it until later that night, Joel’s unsaved number lingering on the phone screen in your missed calls.

It was an internship at your dream job in Dallas, a flat rate pay out with six months of lodging covered while you got on your feet—but more importantly it was an escape. 

You should be upset at Tommy for prying, opening the letter before you had a chance to peek at it yourself, but he’s sensed the tension for months. He loved your mother, but he cared for you, even in the tumultuous months he’s been around you both. 

You were strong, independent, and far better off blossoming on your own without the hard grip of your mother and her undying but fickle faith. 

The second call from Joel startles you back to reality, answering with a shaky finger.

“Didn’t say goodbye this morning,” Joel greets, only sounding slightly bitter.

You’re quiet for longer than Joel is comfortable with and he almost speaks again, apologizes, but you cut him off.

“Sorry…my mom, it seemed like she was already on her reign of terror and I didn’t…she’s hard to be around anymore.”

“I’m just messin’ with you, kid,” He replies, letting out a soft huff as he sat down in his worn-in recliner.

“Are they home?”

“Left about an hour ago, they’re movin’ stuff into the house, I guess? I don’t know,” Joel sounds disinterested and you share the sentiment, but then there’s a distinct snap of a bottle cap that you try to ignore.

Joel hears your lips part on the other end, “It’s been a long day,” It was the first time he’s outright acknowledged it, which was a step, but not what you needed.

“Tommy told me,” You blurt in frustration, “about her.”

“Listen, I don’t need you judgin’ me either. I get it enough from Tommy as is—“

“I’m not…I wasn’t,” You respond, confused, “I just, I wish you’d mentioned her, at least. Not that you owe that to me…but—”

Joel clears his throat and the bottle scuffs the table, undrank as he settles back into his seat.

“I got my own baggage, ain’t no sense dragging you into that,” Joel defends, “not with all you have going on.”

“If you can fuck me, you can talk to me too,”

It silences him effectively, “I’m not a child. I’m not your child. I’m an adult—“

“Where is this comin’ from? I’ve never said that—“

“I don’t know,” You sigh in exasperation, “It’s been a long day, Joel. I’m gonna head to bed, okay?”

You don’t wait for his response, hanging up on him with a frustrated finality, mad at yourself and him, reasons unclear—you haven’t prayed in months, but you find the urge as the guilt creeps in, wondering if Joel was the corruptor your mother had always warned you about.

They’ll come at your weakest and test your faith, and if you break, you’re just as feeble as the rest of the world without faith to guide them.

-

The week drags and you’d much rather be somewhere else, but you find yourself turning the doorknob to the Miller home and a Happy Birthday balloon floating into the open doorway, a contorted look of confusion on your face as your eyes land on the three adults in the living room.

“Are we celebrating early?” You look at your mother, who’s birthday is approaching in a couple weeks, but she’s quickly shaking her head.

“It’s Joel’s birthday, honey.”

“Oh,” Your eyes glide over the three of them until they land on Joel, “Happy Birthday?”

Joel hates the attention, clearly. 

The next few hours are spent together at a fancy restaurant Tommy decides to treat everyone too, a nice gesture for his brother’s birthday, but it doesn’t dissipate the underlying frustration.

And Tommy, being a pushover for the sake of allowing his brother to enjoy his birthday, drinks alongside him—four beers down and a couple shots later, dinner finished and skipping dessert, everyone is heading back to the car in silence, though Joel does look considerably lighter in his expression, his normally furrowed brow now relaxed.

Your mother is quick to drag Tommy to their shared room when you’re home, giving you a gentle hug that you haven’t felt in months, strange and unsettling to your psyche. Joel relaxes onto the couch, kicking his boots off toward the edge of the rug before he’s searching around blindly for the remote, thumbing the button to turn on the television.

It illuminates the dim room and you find yourself standing there, unmoving, suddenly feeling completely out of place in a home you’ve grown comfortable in.

“You’re quiet,” Joel notes, not looking at you while he fumbles with his watch, twisting in on his wrist as he places a sock covered foot against the coffee table.

“And you’re drunk,” You retorted, the again unsaid but implied.

“Believe it ‘r not, I can handle myself. I know my limit,” Joel responds, “I’ve been cuttin’ back, I don’t need you tellin’ me what I can handle. You’re young, you wouldn’t understand anyways.”

“Guess so,” You reply lamely, stripping off your shirt down to the thin spaghetti top, the thick September heat seeping inside the Miller home, even as the sun set—and you can feel Joel’s eyes on you before you look at him, eyes lingering longer than they should.

There were often moments where he would fend off your advances, quiet moments at home alone when you would slip into his lap or behind him and he’d let you down easily, but he wasn’t always that strong—a weak man with temptation dangling in his face. He’s always been in the wrong from the beginning, allowing any of this to develop and further.

But, you’re feeling vindictive tonight—upset and angry at yourself, angry at Joel—no, frustrated. 

And with Tommy and your mother turned in for the night, absolutely no sign of them resurfacing until morning, nothing was stopping you as Joel’s eyes bored into you and the slow rise and fall of your chest.

He’s always been cautious and safe, never while the house was occupied, only in quiet and enclosed spaces that he could lock the doors—that in the chance you might get caught he could lie or evade and not face the consequences, but even as you grow closer and climb into his lap, he doesn’t stop you.

Your hands grip his hair immediately, yanking his head back as you press your ass into his thighs and bring your lips to his jaw, mouthing against the line of his neck and around, pulling at the collar of his shirt to nip at his chest, nothing but his shallow breaths and the soft hum of the television to fill the air, the solid press of his hard cock against your inner thigh a warning sign.

You could end it here, leave him with the guilt that continued to grow within him. 

You could drag him to his room, ride him over his sheets like he desired, a clandestine sight that would have any man on his knees—or so he’s told you. 

Or, you seduce him here.

He was already nearly there, reaching for you as he leaned forward when you pulled back, pressing a hand into his chest, “I’m leaving, after the wedding,” Joel pauses, the furrow in his brow returning faintly, “I got an offer for an internship.”

“Well..that’s good, ain’t it?”

His hands squeeze at your sides as they travel and settle there, ignoring the obvious danger that the two could walk out at any moment, focused solely on you. It shouldn’t make you feel good, but it does. You shouldn’t want this, but you craved it.

“No, like—I’m leaving that night. To Dallas.” A long pause follows and Joel waits, watching as you glance down the hall, “I don’t know how to tell her.”

“Do you want to?” Joel asks.

You sigh softly, playing with the hem of his collar, “No, I don’t. Tommy told me he could deal with the fallout, but—”

“Tommy knows?”

You look at him with a tired roll of your eyes and a faint smile, “Yes, he does. He snooped and read the letter—he’s known I’ve wanted this opportunity for a while.”

“I didn’t think you two talked that much,” Joel replies honestly.

“We don’t, not always,” You admit, “not with my mom around—and he told me, about your drinking problem.”

Joel huffs quietly, scratching at his cheek as he looks away.

“I just—this isn’t…like, it isn’t also because of that, right?” You ask, “Does drinking make you feel less guilty about it?”

You know it isn’t the entire reason, but there is some suspicion. Given the constant lingering taste on his lip after the first instance together and the several that followed, a burgeoning problem of his own melding with the dangerous secrets you’ve been trying to keep.

“There’s no guilt,” It was the most confident you’ve heard Joel to be…ever. Not an ounce of hesitation in his tone, “We’re adults, we made a choice. But, I think there is a point where we have to realize this can’t work.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Joel awaits quietly, not giving you a nod but his eyes turn up in wait, his thumbs slipping under the fabric of your shirt to press into warm flesh.

“If they weren’t together—if your brother wasn’t going to be my stepdad, would you have thought twice? If we had met at a bar or something?”

“I don’t know,” Joel answers, unsure.

You sigh deeply, leaning into his eyeline to capture his lips, an unexpected kiss that grabs his attention, his hands climbing higher under your shirt in search of skin.

“I think you do,” You mumble against his mouth, “I also think you were vulnerable and you saw that I was too and you wanted to feel a little less lonely.”

Joel can’t find the words to respond, feeling like you’ve seen straight through him.

“So, let me help a little more,” You soothe his rapidly beating heart with your sultry tone, unbuttoning your jeans with slow movements, only removing yourself from him briefly to strip your jeans and underwear off before you return to his lap.

You wait until he finally got with the program and unbuttoned his own jeans, shifting them just far enough down his thighs that they’re out of the way, grabbing for the blanket draped over the couch to wrap around you and you almost protest, but the concentrated look on his face as returns your gaze short-circuits your thinking, fisting his cock as he slides it between your wet folds, pressing inside of you slowly, your slow breaths mingling together in each other’s mouth.

“Quiet,” He reminds you, “we have to be quiet.”

Easier said than done, you giggle against his lips.

“Says you,” You tease, lifting your hips slowly as he follows the movement, allowing you to lead, your hands pressing into the back of the couch, “I like hearing how bad you want it,”

Joel’s hand dwarfs your mouth as he covers it, eyes narrowing at your pointed choice of words and he snaps his hips into you harshly without warning, forcing out a yelp into his palm as your hands tighten into the cushion, canting your hips as you lift them in time with his thrusts.

He’s got his teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to silence himself, eventually grabbing for your hand and covering his own mouth in desperation, wrapping his free hand around your back and pulling you to his chest, foreheads pressed against each other as you meld together, different emotions swirling as he commits this feeling, and your body, to memory.

Joel feels the familiar, cold touch of your dangle chain necklace, plain silver cross interlocked at the center of it, at this angle it nudges his nose with every thrust, a dainty piece of jewelry that he always took the time to tuck behind your neck—he’s never seen you without it.

He thinks for a moment, considering his action before he’s reaching to tuck it behind your head.

But, your hand stops him, placing it back center before you’re reaching behind to unclasp the necklace from your body, dangling it over the empty cushion beside you.

“It’s okay,” You can sense Joel’s confusion, worry— “I’m starting to figure things out for myself,” It’s intimate, the way you’re talking to him now, voice barely above a whisper as his hips rock gently to keep a slow place, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, “besides…the things I want you to do to me, it’s blasphemy, really.”

Joel snorts at that, finding the sudden burst of energy to snake his hands under your thighs, lifting you up slightly as he scoots himself further down the couch, feet planted flat on the ground and allowing you proper leverage to use his body just the way you desire.

It takes very little time to work him up, a deep growl suppressed behind clenched teeth as your fingers dig into his cheek where your hand is still tight over his mouth, riding him with a clear determination, his eyes softening and pleading—he’s right there and you can see it.

His eyes flutter, hand squeezing and kneading at your thigh in silent prayer. 

Rich, you think. Maybe you’ve been worshiping wrong your entire life.

Your climax comes slowly, alongside his. It’s quiet, a long moment of drawn out sighs poured into each other’s skin, his achy groan a light reprieve to the moment as you climb off of him.

“Staying or going?” He asks after you’ve stood, blanket wrapped around your body.

“Depends,” Your finger dangle in front of his face, watching as he works his jeans back up his thighs, belt sitting unbuckled in his lap, “your room or mine?”

Joel nods with a smile, nudging you toward the hall.

–

Joel’s dangling the silver necklace in his hand as you exit the bathroom, hair damp and dressed in only a shirt—his shirt, climbing onto his bed while he approaches with an extended hand.

You take it silently, passing it off to his bedside table without a word.

“So, when do we have the talk?” You ask curiously, ripping the bandaid off immediately.

“Not tonight, if you don’t want to.”

Your brow pinches together as he slips under the blanket beside you, throwing the cover back to beckon you underneath. You oblige, sliding onto your knees to lean against his chest, forearm covering his abdomen as you rest your chin on your arm.

“I was thinking about starting deconstruction therapy,” You admit, scratching a fingernail at the patchy and fading emblem on his shirt, “It’s…silly, I know. But, I think it might help. I’m doubting—well, everything. I just need someone to talk to. A professional, I mean.”

“That really what you want?” Joel asks curiously, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently, rubbing his thumb into the skin, “It ain’t because of me, is it?”

“I think I’ve been questioning things long before you, or even Tommy. I’m telling you because—I don’t know, I guess I want to hold myself accountable. So I don’t chicken out. Besides, you seem pretty good at keeping secrets.”

Joel shakes his head slightly in amusement, heaving out a long sigh as his eyes turn toward the ceiling, still favoring your touch as he continues to rub slow circles into your skin.

“I…also think you should get some help,” You add gently, “talk to someone about Sarah—doesn’t have to be me. I mean, Tommy is terrified to mention her, and thinks you’ll blow up on him. You’re…you’re an alcoholic, you know that? My mom was too, before she met Tommy.”

Joel keeps quiet, chewing at his bottom lip. It wasn’t a horrible sign, so you continue.

“She hid it really well, you…not so much.”

“So, holdin’ each other accountable then, huh?” Joel inquires, eyebrow raised.

“I can forgive your lapse in judgement when it came to me—the sex is…good,” You pause, considering your words, “really…really fucking good, but I think we’re using it to avoid things.”

“Think you can fix me?” Joel asks, with a tone of honesty in his voice, “Sweetheart, I’ve been broken for a long time.”

“Mend,” You emphasize, “you can heal—so can I. I think we both owe it to ourselves”

His hand engulfed the side of your face, the hot press of his skin against your cheek as you smiled against the touch, watching as he slowly returned the gesture.

“I think we do, sweetheart.”

I’ll try, for you—he thinks silently but doesn’t say. It doesn’t matter that his fatal attraction had turned into something of lasting admiration, because that would never work. 

But, for you, he’d try.

[sevensoulmates]

Buddie 7x06 Meta

HURRAH! It's not a four-parter this time!! Just a one-parter! It's a Madney/Chim-centric episode (which by the way I loved) but the buddie we got was AMAZING! I'm so excited for the rest of the season. We're just gonna dive right in!

First, I want to say that with the hindsight of this episode, we now know that the bachelor party was not ACTUALLY something that needed to happen, narrative-wise. It didn't actually contribute anything to the Chim plot, as that would've happened with or without buddie going crazy in the hotel room. So, all of the Bachelor Party was written purely for the purpose of watching Buck and Eddie have a good time. Maybe for comedic relief, maybe for the purposes of furthering their story at a later point in the series. Time will tell.

First, I've seen other people point out that Buck expected Eddie to be early (even though he's the first person there) because he wanted Eddie to help him set up for Chim's party. To Buck, Eddie is the person who helps him with everything. This is Buck's idea, yes, but Eddie is the proverbial co-host in this married dynamic. So Eddie being "late" feels more like Buck being disappointed his partner wasn't there to help him behind the scenes to make everything perfect. It really does make the whole scene feel like Buck-and-Eddie (the bro-in-laws) throwing the party. So of course Eddie's breaking the unspoken rules by being late.

I love how Eddie walks in completely ready to be fawned over by Buck with their couple's outfit. It's hilarious to me because 1.) Tommy was planning on coming, Buck could've told Eddie he wanted to do a couple outfits with Tommy instead?, and 2.) Eddie was fishing for compliments and it just makes me giggle. If Buck wasn't so stressed out over this bachelor party, he likely would've reacted how Eddie wanted and given him a bunch of compliments on his look. It was jaw-dropping. If most of us (the audience) were blown away seeing Eddie in a pink suit for the first time in the bts (to the point where most of us were like "no way he's in character, this has to be Ryan's wardrobe choice"), I know that the other characters were too. It's not Eddie's typical wardrobe choice. In fact, it's such an out-of-character fashion choice for him, that it's unlikely that Eddie just had this lying around in his closet to throw on. He probably had to go and buy a suit like this just for the occasion. Eddie had to put in a lot of effort to do this couple's costume with Buck, and he did it all happily and enthusiastically. We'll come back to this in just a second because...

CLIPBOARD BUCK IS BACK! sans clipboard but you get my drift. I love how this visually connects Buck to his sister and harkens back to a lovely Buddie moment "This is Eddie's house, I'm not really a guest" back in season 3. This time around, we have Eddie assuming he would get special husband privileges and is pouty when Buck doesn't allow it.

BUT at the same time, he's not getting on Buck's case too much about it beyond the initial pouting. He may not know why Buck's so insistent on throwing a party, but he knows it's what Buck wants, so he moves on, and even watches with somewhat amusement when clipboard Buck gets turned on Ravi for doing the same thing later.

I also want to point out that Eddie has never once, ever, been upset with, annoyed by, or irritated with Buck when he's in Clipboard Buck mode. Most of the time, Eddie either finds it amusing cute, or is just generally accepting of it. This is no exception, however, this later devolves into Buck and Eddie going absolutely wild. This further exemplifies how Buck and Eddie accept and support each other, even when the other is being lowkey stupid (everything they do at the bachelor party) or unreasonable (clipboard Buck). It's all very much partner in crime coded.

Framing. Jesus Christ the FRAMING. Tommy walks in and not even two seconds into the interaction, the camera frames Eddie FRONT AND CENTER between them, watching Buck and then watching Tommy. Buck and Tommy hug and when they pull back, there's Eddie watching them with an odd look on his face. I'm not going to go so far as to call this jealousy/pettiness, but it is odd. There's an intimate physical moment between Buck and Tommy, and then Eddie, who constantly haunts their narrative, is just there. And he's actually objecting to Tommy's presence there. Not in a mean or hostile way, but just a second ago he was high-fiving Tommy, welcoming him in, but once the physical special relationship between Buck and Tommy is established, Eddie starts to bristle a little bit.

This entire exchange is just odd. Eddie knows that Tommy is friends with Chim. He has every right to be there for Chim alone. He's also aware that Buck now has a closer relationship with Tommy, and Buck's the only one who wants this bachelor party, so it should be obvious that Tommy would come. And yet...Eddie is questioning Tommy's presence there. He's reducing Tommy to Buck's "date", not Eddie's friend or Chim's friend, or someone who's slowly integrating into the group. No, it only becomes a problem when Tommy is there as "Buck's date".

This is then proven by Tommy, who's actually known Chimney longer than either Buck or Eddie have known him. He has all the right to be invited. But what's especially interesting is Buck's face when Eddie starts expressing objections to Tommy's presence. He looks shocked, a little worried, loss for words. Like he's worried Eddie is disapproving of them. It could be worry lingering from last episode, where Buck was afraid of his queerness pushing Eddie away. It also showcases a bit of awkwardness between Tommy and Eddie too. Eddie has been established as enjoying spending time with Tommy, and now he's hesitant to have Tommy in spaces with Buck as a romantic partner. It demonstrates that maybe Eddie isn't as comfortable with Buck and Tommy together as he led Buck/the audience to believe. But where is that uncomfortablity stemming from? That's yet to be determined canonically.

Buck then goes on the deny that Tommy is his date (for the bachelor party) and insists that Tommy is only his date officially tomorrow at the wedding. I personally don't understand why Buck would need to clarify that Tommy isn't his date to the bachelor party. If they're dates for one, it's usually assumed they're dates for the other, especially given how close the events are. I get that Buck wants to make the night about Chimney, but it can be about Chimney and still have Tommy there as a date.

This is also an interesting line that I've pondered over. Because while it's true that taking Tommy as a date anywhere would be hard launching both Buck's queerness and his relationship with Tommy, which could draw attention away from Madney and to Buck, but it also shouldn't be that big of a deal (and is proven at the end of the episode too). If the wedding had gone to plan originally, then Buck and Tommy going together wouldn't have had to have drawn too much attention. He could've told Chim, Hen, his parents + everyone separately before the ceremony even began. It didn't have to be such a huge deal, so I was wondering why Eddie brings out the usual phrase the show tends to use when they want to remind Buck that not everything is about him. But Buck wasn't trying to make it about him. Eddie should know this. As much as Buck has had issues in the past of taking things far too personally, and believing things to be more about him than they actually are, that's not what is happening here.

I actually think Eddie saying this line is more revealing of Eddie's feelings than it is about Buck making it about him again. It's revealing that Buck, his relationship with Tommy, and Buck's queerness are a big deal to Eddie, enough so that he believes it will draw a lot of attention. And maybe Eddie's not as cool with the idea of everyone knowing about Buck and Tommy as he tells himself. I want to reiterate that I don't believe any of this stems from legit homophobia towards Buck and/or Tommy, but more so a discomfort Eddie harbors about Buck's queerness, what it means for Eddie, and what Buck being with Tommy takes away from Eddie. All of this is unconscious, confusing, and frustrating for Eddie, and therefore what comes out of Eddie's mouth is a barb at Buck's expense. And it's why his reaction to BuckTommy at the end of the episode is kind of muted but mostly positive. He's confused.

Buck had told Tommy previously that it was an 80s theme party and asked him to dress up. This brings me back to my previous point that Buck could've asked Tommy to dress up with him. Instead, Buck and Eddie are framed as the literal "couple" here visually, and Tommy is framed as the odd one out. Not only that, but what he is wearing is a Henley, which as most of us know, is a staple of Eddie's wardrobe. (General author's note: I don't usually harp on about wardrobe choices in the show because that's not my specialty but I will here because it is a textual part of the plot).

We've previously established in the last few episodes that Tommy is a narrative mirror to Eddie. Tommy's meant to be like Eddie in almost every way, same interests, similar personality types, etc. He's even paralleling Eddie here by dressing the same way Eddie normally dresses. But it's being juxtaposed by Eddie standing right beside him (once again Eddie is framed in the middle throughout this entire exchange with Buck/Tommy when Eddie very easily could've just stepped off to the side to let them have some privacy). EDDIE is dressed way differently than he usually is in a bright pink suit, going out of his way to make Buck happy even if it brings him out of his comfort zone wardrobe-wise. And in contrast, Tommy did not take the time to dress up, even though he knew Buck wanted him to. I'm not saying that this makes Tommy a bad person, or inconsiderate of Buck, but it's just one of those little things. One of those forethought things that Tommy just isn't aware of because he's only been dating Buck for a few weeks at this point.

Others have pointed out that Tommy would've had to change out of his clothes and into his uniform regardless if he was on standby, so why couldn't he have at least just added a little bit of 80s flair to his current outfit? It wouldn't have been any more time-consuming. Maybe it would've put Tommy out of his own comfort-zone, or maybe he would've been a bit embarrassed, but that's the kind of thing that one might reasonably risk in order to make their partner happy.

Tommy isn't aware that by not dressing up, he's hurting Buck's feelings. That's just one of those things he wouldn't know about Buck because he does not have the lived experience of what Buck needs emotionally from his partners. Eddie, on the other hand, has years of experience with Buck and knows that if he really wanted to he could be just like everyone else who didn't dress up and that Buck would put on a face of being fine with it, but deep down inside, it would make Buck feel ignored and hurt. Eddie doesn't want to ignore Buck, and as we've seen from his last line about "making it about you", Eddie can't ignore Buck. So even if it means pushing himself out of his comfort zone, Eddie's going to show up in full costume, ready and enthusiastic to be with Buck.

All of this is being done for a purpose. It's to show us that while Buck and Tommy are still learning and developing their relationship, something is off, specifically in comparison to Eddie. The show is purposely framing Eddie as a better partner to Buck than Tommy is being in the current moment. Which is kind of unfair, if you think about it. If the show was setting Tommy up to be Buck's newest love and future endgame, they would instead be giving them opportunities to grow together, to get to know each other. Instead, the show is telling us in every subtly way it can that hey, wouldn't Buck fit so much better with Eddie instead? It's contradictory and doesn't further the plot if BuckTommy growth was the purpose. These bachelor party scenes as plot devices only work if the purpose is to show the audience that something isn't fitting with Buck and Tommy, but whatever that missing piece is, it does fit with Buck and Eddie.

Tommy then doesn't understand that they're supposed to be dressed up as the Miami Vice characters. He instead assumes The Wedding Singer (1998). First, I want to say that this is the 2nd Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore romcom that's been mentioned in canon in relation to Buck (the first being 50 First Dates in the season 5 finale) and as a huge fan of those movies, I'm fangirling. Second, it aligns with Tommy's s2 characterization where he loves romcoms (Love, Actually, and now The Wedding Singer). Third, it's an interesting choice from the writers here to pick The Wedding Singer as the movie that springs to Tommy's mind. There are plenty of 80s movies with bright colors that could've been name-dropped. They instead purposely went for a movie about the 80s but made in the late 90s, for the express purpose of having Eddie point out that Tommy's wrong. This is all very subtle, but it definitely does feel like Eddie is trying to lowkey one-up Tommy. But why would he feel the need to do this?

I've seen others point this out as well, but The Wedding Singer is about two people who are engaged to other people who are very obviously not right for them, though they might try to convince themselves differently. I rewatched the movie yesterday morning and I found it very enlightening. Adam Sandler's character is very much in love with Drew Barrymore's character, and almost tells her to leave her fiance for him, but in the end, he assumes incorrectly that she's happy with the other guy, and leaves them be. Drew Barrymore's character was ready to settle with someone she didn't fully love for security, and the only reason she doesn't tell Adam Sandler's character the truth is because she thinks he's still in love with his ex. It's all very miscommunication-y, but at the same time, it's reflective of Buck and Eddie's characters currently too given that neither of them really knows what they're looking for, they're just seeking a feeling, and may or may not be finding it in their current respective partners. But in the end, even after all the miscommunications, there's a HEA in The Wedding Singer.

Something else of mention was how in the movie, Adam Sandler's character was asked how he knew that things weren't working out with his ex and he said something along the lines of "It was the little things. Like, one time we were going to the Grand Canyon, and I had never been there before and she had, and instead of letting me take the window seat in order to see the beauty of it from above, she took the window seat for herself." This reminded me of this scene with Tommy, where it's just the little things that aren't fitting between him and Buck. I will come back to the topic of BuckTommy and misalignment later.

There have been many posts discussing how Crockett and Tubbs are another one of those "manly" buddy-cop pairings who were very queer-coded best friends who obviously never got together. Many people believed Crockett to be bi-coded as well. What's interesting to me is that this marks the second/third time in the last two episodes where they argued about who is the bi-coded character. I just find it interesting meta-textually when you think about the fact that fans used to argue incessantly (still do honestly) about whether Buck or Eddie could be queer and now that Buck is confirmed to be queer, people argue that Eddie can't be queer now. Additionally (I don't watch Miami Vice but I looked at a lot of the pictures) it seems that visually, Eddie should be aware that he is dressed as Tubbs, since most of pictures of them feature Crockett in blue/green semi-casual and Tubbs in pink/elevated suits. Visually, their roles should be obvious to anyone who is familiar with the show. Just like how Buck's queerness is now obvious. But now, the argument is well, there's an argument to be made that Eddie could be Crockett, and subtextually, also queer.

The narrative continues to hint with every single episode that passes that it's very likely Eddie will discover his own queerness at some point in the show. Just like there's no need for Buck and Eddie to argue over who gets to be Crockett, they can both be Crockett for christ's sake, they're both gonna end up queer. Of that I am certain.

So not only was Eddie totally down to clown with Buck at this karaoke bachelor party, but he was the one who suggested the couple's costume. We see more instances of Eddie not trying to tell Buck "hey, Chim said he didn't want a party, so don't do it", instead he goes along with it and finds a way to be even more enthusiastic about it. And I don't think that that was just because Eddie really wanted to party. I think it was because Eddie realizes that Buck must be wanting to do this for a reason. Possibly Buck might be doing this because he wants to show Chimney just how supportive he is of him and Maddie, maybe it's because Buck never got to be too involved with Maddie's last wedding because Doug hated him. Maybe this is his way of trying to make up again for his actions in season 5 when Maddie left and Buck didn't tell Chim. Or hell, maybe it's just now hitting Buck that he's going to have a brother, for real now, after realizing all he lost with Daniel, and wants to make this day special for Chim to showcase his appreciation of their brotherhood.

Buck is obviously overcompensating for something, and Chim and the rest of the gang don't realize why the bachelor party is so important to Buck. Hell, Eddie might not know entirely either, but he does sense that there is something more than just "I want to party" going on with Buck and this bachelor party. And so, as always, he is ride or die for Buck.

Then, when everyone else gets up to leave karaoke, Eddie doesn't even get up. He doesn't make it look like he's also considering leaving either. He doesn't check his watch or phone or make it seem like it's a burden or an inconvenience to be there or like there's somewhere else he'd rather be.

Once again, this scene with Tommy and Buck is framed with Eddie clearly in the picture, to show how he's just chilling, drinking, and ready to stick it out with Buck regardless of what happens. And then Tommy is the last one to finally leave and disappoint Buck that night.

And now I want to bring it back to BuckTommy, misalignment, and the ever-present Screaming Universe. If this was real life, it would just be a coincidence, but it's not. This is scripted fiction and everything is done with a purpose. What purpose did the writers have to get rid of Tommy but keep Eddie around to party with Buck all night long? If the writers wanted, they could've had Tommy stick around, more so to show a juxtaposition between the three of them hanging out. Or the writers could've had Eddie leave, and Tommy stay. It would've served the same purpose. Tommy still could've left the next morning for work and come back sooty for the kiss. Instead, the story/universe wanted Tommy to leave and this undeniably creates a micro-conflict between Buck and Tommy. It's undeniable that Buck is disappointed that Tommy's leaving and that he didn't really seem all that enthused to be there in the first place. Tommy then leaves, he's gone for the majority of the episode and comes back at the end. This is now a pattern for the third time in a row.

In Tommy's introduction episode 7x04, he and Buck have a moment at the beginning of the episode, a conflict between Buck and Tommy is introduced, Tommy is there a couple times throughout but he and Buck do not have any one-on-one scenes again until the end where their "miscommunication" is resolved by their kiss. In 7x05, they have their date at the beginning where weirdness happens and Tommy ends it, is gone the rest of the episode, until he returns at the end for Buck to make up with and rekindle. And now in 7x06, Tommy is there at the beginning, there's a misconnection, Tommy leaves for the rest of the episode, and they reconnect at the very end.

That's three whole instances of conflict with BuckTommy all written in a very similar way back to back to back. All of these conflicts revolve around the theme of misalignment and not knowing what they want personally nor what the other person wants. All of this harkens back to that first little moment with Buck and Tommy in 7x03 where Buck pats Tommy's arm, Tommy reaches to connect their hands and misses. I predicted that this would be a metaphor for the rest of their relationship, and so far I've been right. Because it seems like no matter how hard both of them try, they aren't quite connecting, not to the fullest. There is always a conflict that pops up that pulls them apart every single episode and they have to find ways to resolve this at the end. Again, if this was irl it'd be a different story, but as part of a narrative where they're not only trying to showcase Buck's first-ever queer relationship but also strongly comparing it to his "platonic" relationship with Eddie, it feels pointed and poignant. Buck and Tommy's constant misalignment feels like the "universe" trying to tell them something but they're not yet at the point of understanding what.

I highly doubt Buck would've wanted to party with a bunch of strangers if he wasn't feeling so disappointed by both Tommy and Chim. Eddie too, I'm wondering why he didn't want to go home or go be with Chris and visit his family. Or maybe go and see if maybe Marisol wanted to hang out. In fact, Marisol not being in this episode at all, or even mentioned, after the last episode is telling as well.

Many people have pointed out that the karaoke scene parallels Maddie and Chim, and this is even more pointed when the song that is playing when Maddie and Chim get married is Island in the Stream which is the song they first sang karaoke to. Buck and Eddie we know sing "What I Like About You" by the New Romantics, which Oliver, Ryan, and Tim all described as the best song for them to sing to/with each other at this point in time. I still think of it as canon even though we didn't hear it (I get why, they had little time and also licensing is expensive). This song is a romantic song, that's undeniable, and it also makes me think of Shrek and Fiona so it's double iconic. It's also an interesting choice in the moment where Buck is at a low emotional point, and Eddie chooses to stick around with him, indulge with him, and have fun together. It really is a great moment to show how not only are they there for each other in serious and emotional moments, but they also just enjoy spending time with each other, and would choose to spend time with each other any time they can.

Now I wanna talk about just how close physically Buck and Eddie get in this episode. For a lot of us, it's kind of whiplash because while Buck and Eddie have hugged and touched before, never so much in this way, or this much, or this intimately. Buck has his arm around Eddie's neck, their faces closer than they've probably ever been before? Buck is literally whispering into Eddie's ear ("keep on whispering in my ear, tell me all the things that I wanna hear because it's true, that's what I like about you") pulling Eddie into his chest. Eddie's leaning his entire upper body onto Buck, resting most of his weight on Buck. They're pressed together thigh to thigh, leaning their knees on each other. All of this demonstrates not just an emotional closeness, but a physical closeness (thank you, ABC, fuck u Fox), and not only that but an intimate physical closeness. All of this coming right after an episode where Buck came out. I love this because it shows a lack of Eddie being weirded out by being physically close to a queer man as a (seemingly) straight man. But it's also just so telling because Buck and Eddie have not been this physically close before....like ever...in this show. And now they are at the turning point of Buck's queerness being made textual and Eddie's queerness being STRONG subtext? Oh my goodness it's such strong storytelling.

This might be reading into it, and I acknowledge that, but this dialogue exchange felt to me less like they were talking about all the nameless people who were around them and more so like they were talking about each other. These are strangers, they don't know Chim, let alone love him. Neither do these people know/love Buck or Eddie. Instead, this conversation reads to me more like Buck talking about how Chim should be here because his friends (Buck, Eddie, Hen, etc) love him, and Eddie agrees. Looking even deeper, given that Chim didn't show up and the rest of their friends left them for the night, this feels more like Buck and Eddie talking about themselves. Because why is Eddie here? There's no reason for Eddie to be here partying it up except for the fact that he loves Buck and he wants to make him happy and enjoys spending time with him. This exchange is Buck recognizing that, and Eddie agreeing that he really, really does love Buck. And that's why their shenanigans continue as they all move on to Chim's hotel room.

They could've given up/left once Chim's door was locked, but Eddie encourages Buck to keep on going. Touching Buck like how Eddie loves to touch Buck, in the way that's most appropriate for them, on the shoulder like this. Then he kicks the door in and when Buck is ready to go wake Chim up to party, Eddie's like "Eh let him sleep", because, for Eddie, he doesn't really need Chimney around to have fun. Despite what they were just saying about bringing the party to Chimney so that Chimeny could feel the love too, Eddie's perfectly content just partying it up with Buck and only Buck.

These three clips in the bachelor party montage....I'm just gonna be frank with you, they're so obviously meant to look sexual. So CONTENT WARNING**** for me about to talk about sexual positions and such.

I don't have to tell you that although Buck and Eddie are technically partying with a bunch of other people, none of them are actually important. They're NPCs there to give Buck and Eddie an excuse to do all of this stuff with each other. So everything they do in this scene is more so a reflection of their relationship with each other, as well as their metaphorical queerness than it is about just general partying.

We know (due to bts) that at some point Eddie was leaning over to pour alcohol into Buck's mouth. It looks like Buck is leaning back on the couch in his most favorite/frequent canonical sex position (girl on top/riding) that we've seen in the past. This time with his mouth wide open with a phallic symbol pouring a liquid directly into his mouth. It looks like a blowjob/cum shot. Then we have Eddie with his clothes being pulled off and torn away. From the bts, we know that Buck is behind him and helps the girls pull off his sleeves. Other than the obvious "ripping each other's clothes off" metaphor, there's also the "orgasmic" look on Eddie's face as well. Others have also discussed how Eddie appears to be recreating the "crucifixion pose" /Jesus on the cross with his arms out like that in a reference to his catholic guilt arc and how before he's very much let that guilt control him and now in this scene with his close being ripped off, it can also be a metaphor for Eddie's eventually freedom from compulsory heterosexuality and guilt.

The last still with both Buck and Eddie vigorously shaking champagne bottles near the crotches (mimicking mutual masturbation) and then both of the champagne bottles "explode" mimicking both of them reaching a mutual climax, which then cuts immediately to both of them waking up the next morning. It's very very obviously a metaphorical gay sex scene.

Separately from that, I want to discuss this specific still, with both Buck and Eddie in between 2 very clear-as-day drag queens. This inclusion elevates the scene subtly yet very clearly to represent both Buck AND Eddie in proximity to queerness/the queer community. It further cements the queerness of this entire montage scene.

Finally, to conclude the bachelor party scenes, I just want to reiterate, that Buck and Eddie could've figured out Chim was missing any which way. They could've gone over the next morning w/o partying there. Buck could've gone by himself, etc. There were many ways the "Chim is missing" plot could've been done without needing to go this route for Buck/Eddie. Which means that this plot was not for any necessary reason other than to bring Buck and Eddie together.

Then while they're going on their chase to find Chimney, Buck and Eddie are paired up together the entire time, working together as a team, once again looking more like an established couple than anything else.

Then, as if fitting with the BuckTommy "beginning and ending only" episode pattern, Tommy comes back only at the very end of the episode, and he and Buck kiss, transferring soot onto Buck's face and providing a very quick and easy way to come out to all the rest of the people who haven't yet known about Buck. Most people look surprised, others smug (Henren, we'll get to them) and Eddie gives an interesting close-lipped smile. This moment in and of itself isn't very loud. His face is purposely vague here (hats off to Ryan, king of microexpressions). Of course, Eddie's going to look happy for them, he's not going to look jealous. But his smile could be brighter, his eyes could be warmer. There's again just something off about his expression there. I think it's confusing for a reason, because Eddie too is confused about everything he's feeling.

Hen is incredibly smart, so I'm not surprised that she clocked Buck's queerness a while ago. Her telling Karen this, and Karen's agreement means that this is something they likely discussed in private as well. In my opinion, if she was able to clock Buck, there's no way she hasn't also clocked Eddie. She just isn't saying anything because she's a respectful and empathetic person.

Hen wasn't really there for most of Buck's Tommy-arc, but she WAS front and center for all of Eddie's "performance anxiety" around dating women. Trust me, when Eddie figures it out and he and Buck finally get together, Henren will say something along these lines again, I'm certain of it.

And that's the end of this episode! It was such an emotional ride! I loved everything they did with Maddie and Chimney, and the Buddie plot was so fun! I had a blast, and I'm so excited for next week! I get the feeling the latter half of the season is gonna dive deeper into Eddie's storylines. Yay!

[secondsistershelby3]

NO HAPPY ENDING FOR US

Pairings : Joel Miller x Wife!Reader

Summary: your life with Joel was perfect, you got engaged in high school, you went to the prom, you got married, you had a perfect daughter, but apparently they didn't want you to have a happy ending

Warnings: !SCENE TAKEN FROM DEADPOOL 1!, a bit of fluff, angst, death

Words: 731

Notes: this is so short and pointless but i'm feeling down and i wanted to write something

It was a cool, lazy Sunday, which meant Sarah wasn't in school and Joel wasn't working. The Texas sun was shining through the half-open windows. You blinked as you tried to look ahead, thinking you were the only one awake, but as soon as you felt kisses on your neck you realized that wasn't the case.

You smiled and closed your eyes at the feeling. "good morning to you too"

"good morning honey" Joel's wet kisses moved from your neck to your bare collarbone.

"if you want to have sex wait until I brush my teeth" you tried to get up but Joel stopped you "do you think I care what your breath is" Joel laughed at your statement.

You turned around and looked at him in protest "uhg..alright alright you win" Joel removed his arm from your torso and stretched as you stood up in only your black lace panties, you picked up Joel's gray shirt from the floor and went to the bathroom.

Amazing how life can go from perfect to a huge explosion of shit

As soon as you brushed your teeth you walked out of the bathroom with a smile with Joel watching you, ready to take off your shirt. But when you put your hands on the hems to take it off you started to feel heavy

"what the fuck…"

and you fell to the ground

"DARLING!" The last thing you saw was Joel running towards you

--

one day you find yourself making pancakes with your husband and daughter...another day the doctor tells you that you have terminal cancer

"it..it can't be…I..how the hell is it possible!?" Joel got angry at the doctor in front of you, you instead couldn't hear a single word. Joel was already thinking of all the possible strategies to save you while he held your hands.

You instead were counting the days you had left to live

"there are some experimental treatments that we could try, medicine is making progress every day, we could at least try" the doctor looked at you and Joel with passion

"then we will try, we will try as long as we can" he squeezed your hands as he turned to look at you "I won't let you die" you looked at your husband with a heartbroken smile "ok…."

Joel kissed your knuckles.

You had never believed in miracles and you didn't believe in them now either

--

Joel has never been a believer… but in these last months he has been more of a believer than any believer in Texas.

The experimental treatments hadn't worked, you should have expected it. You had nothing left to hope for, the doctor had suggested palliative treatments for the little time you had left, to at least ease the pain that had tormented you for the last 3 months.

They had asked you if you wanted to do them at home or in the hospital and without hesitation you decided to do them at home. You received flowers from Tommy almost every day, affection from your husband and daughter and that was enough for you

you were lying on the couch, wearing baggy pants, and a fleece to keep you warm from the constant cold you felt. You had Joel on one side and Sarah on the other while you were watching a movie. At a certain point a pain in your stomach made you writhe on the spot

"Mom? Mom are you okay? Should I get you something?" Your eyes were closed as Joel stood beside you like your daughter not knowing what to do "it's okay honey, it's okay it'll pass now"

"Sarah go get her some water" Joel whispered as he tried to hold you up as much as he could

You didn't even realize you were crying, you turned to look at Joel and he hugged you right away

"I don't want to leave you Joel…I don't want to.." He pulled you closer, Joel shed a tear too, because he knew he was about to lose you, he knew he couldn't do anything to stop the process, that you were just waiting for the inevitable

and that moment didn't take long to arrive

because it was precisely 3 weeks later that Joel and Sarah watched your grave being buried 3 meters underground

It seems the world didn't want you to have your happy ending

[louferrignojrofficial]

I've been mulling over this idea for a while, and since you seem to be in a Bucktommy yearning mood, I feel compelled to share it.

Note: This is speculation regarding their breakup.

I'm kind of on the fence about whether or not it was Tim's original intention to reconnect Buck and Tommy. From what we saw on screen, Tommy was definitively different from all of Buck's other love interests. Buck had pursued the relationship; he invited Tommy to his sister's wedding, he was the person shown as “family” when Tommy was called up to receive a medal, and he looked towards Tommy in a momentary pause after saying “our people” at the cowboy funeral. Up until 8x06, it seemed Tommy was the perfect match. However, it all came crashing down in the following episode, and this is where my speculation starts.

I operate on a 60/40 ratio on whether or not Bucktommy getting back together was the original intention. Based on post-breakup interviews, it appears as though neither Lou nor Oliver had any idea about whether or not they would reconcile. Tim has been known to conceal storylines from cast members until the last few seconds, and if I propose that Bucktommy reconciliation was inevitable, that means Tim either didn't want to tell them in case something changed, or he needed to break up to feel more raw for all involved parties.

Tim hinted in one post-episode interview that Buck was likely going to be involved in a rebound relationship in the second half of the season. That storyline was scrapped, but it is compelling that they had mutual pining established before the initial storyline. If Bucktommy's reconciliation was inevitable, the original second half of the season's storyline would relate to Tommy's breakup speech.

Bucktommy breakup-makeup storyline V1:

Tommy tells Buck he isn't ready and unsure of his feelings; he explores his sexuality, realizes new relationships are hollow, and eventually returns to Tommy.

In my opinion, if this was Tim's original idea, I think it's stupid. However, he didn't use it, so it seemed something changed his mind. Whether he came to that conclusion on his own or our relentless notes to ABC did something, we’ll likely never know. We never got a “Buck figuring out his sexuality.” Instead, we got 3 Tommy mentions in 4 episodes, a desperate Buck-Tommy ex-sex scene, and Tommy returning to witness one of the biggest moments on the show, with his grief directly tied to Buck.

Also, we had Tommy's reasoning for the breakup reversed. Tommy's reasoning for the breakup is now more closely tied to jealousy rather than doubts over Buck's sexuality.

I do not fall into Bucktommy reconciliation easily, primarily because I do not trust Tim. I could see Tim eventually going, “Welp, thanks for saving Chim, Tommy. Now that you and Buck have agreed you're better off as friends, you're free to go. Don't let the door hit you on the way out🖕,” but I could also see them heading towards reconciliation.

Apologies for the long post; I just needed to vent. I will be watching the next few episodes with my expectations in check, but I hope for the best. Have a nice night. :)

i also go back and forth as to whether tim planned to have them make up. because in the show, it seemed so clear that they wanted to be together, there wasn’t really anything stopping them from doing so other than… well. we all know.

and then they did 8x11, and THEN they did 8x15. it seems really fucking weird to do all that and spend all that money to both pay lou and pay millions for that helicopter scene just to be like ‘yeah he’s there but it means nothing for the relationship.’ because, again, it didn’t seem like there was any outside forces stopping them from being together.

i do think plans massively changed for the show in the hiatus and as soon as they came back. we know they added a whole other episode (8x13) which they filmed up to 5 DAYS before the episode aired. so i find it hard to believe tim planned from the breakup that he wanted to get them back together.

i think as it’s going right now, the chances are in our favour of bucktommy reconciling. but as we know, tim doesn’t plan far in advance, will give out scripts the day of filming, will cut people from the show with no warning, will film episodes so so close to the episode airing and is overall wildly unpredictable.

[azaharinflames]

Hi!

Thanks for opening your inbox to all sorts of rants and opinions. You being so nice and accepting made me want to rant about something I haven't seen someone complain about yet lol (there's joy in being a hater as long as you don't lose your mind about it.)

Mine is less about the show and more about the fanfiction. I love Bucktommy fanfic, but as a new watcher, I sometimes want to read more gen fic like the 118 as a found family or something from before Tommy came back in s7.

But it is literally impossible to find any of these fics that don't have casual, background Buck x Eddie! Even after I've filtered out every single possible tag pertaining to that ship, there will always be a background moment that implies romantic feelings between them—as if them being a couple is canon or just a given. Always without tagging anything about it, even though the "background ship" tag is right there.

And it's so infuriating, bc I'll start a really good fic about like Maddie and Buck's sibling dynamic or Buck and Bobby's relationship (which I love!) or some kind of canon-style case fic or even a fic (erroneously!) tagged "Buck & Eddie" for best friendism—and, if it isn't a Bucktommy fic, at some point Eddie and Buck will have some kind of romantic energy with each other. The worst cases are when it's just other characters being like "well of course Buck and Eddie are going to end up together at some point. Just look at them. Also Buck is Chris' dad." It's come to the point where before reading any gen fics, I click on the author—and 99% of the time, every other one of their fics is Buck x Eddie.

It's so frustrating as someone who reads a lot of fic and wants to read a lot of different kinds of fic. In an ironic way, by constantly doing this, non-Bucktommy fic writers are just pushing me back into reading ship-only fanfic.

Absolutely nuts. Anyway, thanks for listening!

Hi! Thank you for your kind words! And apologies in taking a bit to respond, I decided to take the weekend off in preparation for the upcoming chaos this week

Honestly - big time agree! There are two tags that I personally enjoy a lot, and those are Post-Lawsuit, and the Tsunami tag. I love when we get to explore the 118's dynamics more, and as a Buck girlie I love to give him angst, so those two tags are perfection.

However! It's downright rare to find a fic in those tags that isn't about Buddie. Even the ones that don't have them getting together during the story heavily imply they will, or they do any of the things you so well explained. It used to annoy me even when I shipped Buddie, but now it's made the fics impossible to read for me, which ngl, sucks.

It also annoys me when all the characters are either Well of course they were going to get together / we all had bets on when you were going to get together / their love is superior and nothing like we've ever seen, etc. Buck being painted as Chris's dad also annoys me (less when I shipped Buddie to be fully transparent, but now it truly does annoy me lmao), as well as when Chris calls him Bucky (that might be partly because of my Marvel-obsessed-ass, lol).

Another thing that annoys me heavily is when they minimise Maddie's role in Buck's life, or downright play her as the villain (which, wtf), or treat her like she's a family friend at best, and not Buck's literal family and, arguably (especially pre-Tommy) the most important person in his life. Like. Bffr. The way that Jee-Yun (and Chim, too) is highly ignored also ties into this. It's like they minimise/reduce/ignore everyone in Buck's life that adds something to it, and instead choose to give it all to Eddie, in order to fulfill their fantasy. And by doing so, they full-on ignore reality and twist it in a way that Buddie seems co-dependent, when they're not.

And I will say I wouldn't mind it if it stayed in fanon. The issue here is that this world created in fanfiction is then, somehow, being taken as the actual canon. That's why so many Bobs are so mad whenever the show doesn't play into their Buddie is co-dependent and raising a child together, and everyone is in love with their love.

Anyway. I got sidetracked a tiny bit, sorry! Long story short: I heavily agree with you. I won't judge the writers for putting whatever they want in their stories, but it is a bit frustrating to go into a fic that does not have romance (or pre-relationship) tagged or indicated at any point, to then be hit by it. Or, more recently, to start reading a Bucktommy fic and realise midway through that it is endgame Buddie (it is especially upsetting if the fic also has Tommy bashing and it does not say that in the tags or summary)

Tagging correctly is important!

Anywho, sorry for this long rant, lol. I hope to have helped with my reply, and thank you for finding this blog a safe enough space to rant <3

[joels-shitty-puns]

Could I make a request please?

Either a Joel or Pedro x Reader, where he is head over heels for the reader who is really bubbly and sweet and happy and a mom friend for everyone but who is oblivious to any romantic overtures whatsoever? And where Joel or Pedro catch them crying for the first time ever and they try and hide it and go back to cooking for the friend group or whatever and Joel/Pedro get the reader to open up about what made them cry and essentially it's that someone turned them down on a dating app and it's just further confirmation that the reader will never find love or actually be a mom? Plus-sized reader preferred but definitely not required? And your choice on if it's smutty or not.

I've been reading your plus sized reader x Pedro series and loving it!!! So much emotion and genuine positivity that I couldn't help but ask for more when I felt a bit down about this today.

All my best!

Dear @jenniferpendragon,

Hi!!! I've never had a request before, I didn't know what to do with myself. Thank you. And thank you so much for your kind words about my musician fic! I'm so glad people like it.

I'm sorry you were feeling down today. If by "this" you mean you experienced the dating app situation, I'm so sorry. Love is out there for you. I know how hard it is to wait, feeling like nobody wants you, but I know it'll happen. Hang in there. ❤️

I hope you like this fic! I liked your prompt and my mind ran wild. It's way longer than I thought it would be and also I'm unsure about it, but hopefully it makes you feel a little better.

___________

Cookies 'n Scream

Pairing: No-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Plus-sized!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!! MDNI. Poor body image, fat shaming, food guilt, food mentions, unprotected P in V, oral, kissing, fingering, pregnancy mention, baby making sex (?), I think that's all of it but if I missed something let me know.

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. In case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

This is the first smut I've ever written and published, yikes. Hope it's decent.

__________

"Look what I bought today," you chimed in a sing-song voice while waving the DVD in front of Joel. 

"No way. Zombie Slayer 6?!" Joel and Tommy yelled in unison.

"Yep! You know it!" you beamed. "I say tonight we pop this bad boy in. Tomorrow's Halloween, it's perfect."

"YES!" chimed in Sarah and Ellie, Joel's daughter and adopted daughter, roughly the same ages in their early teens.

"Absolutely not! You two are too young for this gore, you'll be up for weeks." Maria pointedly gave an eyebrow to her husband Tommy. "You guys watch the movie, I'll take the kids and we have a girl's night. We can watch Practical Magic and make cookies. Then tomorrow we'll all go trick-or-treating." The girls were pleased with this compromise and began running up to their bedrooms, chatting frantically about their costumes and which houses were allegedly going to have full-size candy bars this year.

"Really? Zombie movies? They're just kids. They aren't old enough to deal with that kind of thing," Maria said to you, judging your lack of parenting skills.

"Sorry…" you said sheepishly.

Truthfully, Halloween was your favorite holiday and always has been. You loved the spooky aspect of it, but you also loved that you could be anyone you wanted, if only for a night. For once you weren't just "the fat girl" or whatever other mean things people thought about you. You could be Wonder-Woman, or Ariel, the Grim Reaper, or a ghost. You could even eat all the sugary snacks you wanted and nobody questioned it, because Halloween was a time to indulge in candy.

If there's one thing you're sad you didn't get to enjoy on Halloween, it was the thought of being with someone you love. You'd always wanted someone to dress up in a couples costume together. Or go to a pumpkin patch for a cute little date and pick pumpkins together. You'd even dreamed about someday having a little pumpkin of your own. Picking out a little baby costume, taking them out door to door while they tried to say "trick or treat" but didn't quite know how to say such big words yet. The thought of them getting spooked by a scary decoration and running back to their daddy's arms. Your handsome brave husband, holding them close and shushing them, rubbing their little back to make it all okay. Finally the three of you would go home, tuck the little one in, sort through the candy and maybe take some for the parent tax. Then you'd flop down on the bed together before sharing a different kind of treat.

Knocking you out of your daydream, the girls ran down the stairs, backpacks on their backs, still loudly chatting about Halloween. You sighed, Maria taking the kids out towards her house.

Tommy clapped his hands together excitedly and grabbed his phone and keys. "I'm picking us up a pizza. You two better not start this damn movie without me," he warned, gesturing with his fingers from his eyes to yours and then across to his brother's before ducking out the door. You laughed and headed towards the kitchen, starting to make a quick batch of cookies before Tommy returned. Joel stood awkwardly trying to help, but mainly was just sneaking bites of dough. "Knock it off Joel! There won't be any cookies left with you around." You elbowed him while he popped another glob into his mouth with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes while he argued with you. "Whatever. My brother doesn't need these cookies anyway. He doesn't deserve your bakin', darlin'." He ate more dough.

You couldn't help but feel your chest flutter with butterflies at his nickname, but you tried to ignore them. "Oh yeah, and what about me?" You pouted up at him. "Don't I deserve any cookies?" 

He put his finger on his lip as if deep in thought. "Hmmm… I dunno darlin'. Not sure if I could handle you if you get much sweeter." He winked.

"But I guess you deserve some too.." he plopped a wad of dough into your mouth, running his finger on your lip as he pulled his hand away. 

You smiled, cheeks feeling warm, and chewing the soft, sugary dough.

"Oh, Joel. You're too much.." you avoided his eyes, looking down at the mixer and pretending to be busy with the cookies. 

Why can't I get a man like Joel? You thought to yourself.

Two years ago, you had moved into your new house and met your neighbors, Tommy and Maria, Maria still very pregnant at the time. The three of you became fast friends and it wasn't long before you met Tommy's brother Joel. You were instantly enamored with him. His curly brown hair, mixed with silvery gray streaks, and those deep, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. Although he could be a grump at times, it was mainly with his brother or his job, and he never showed it towards you. To you he was as sweet as the cookies you were eating.

You instantly developed a little crush on him and it seemed like he was over at his brother's house, or yours, more often than not. The two of you spent time together alone as well, watching movies, talking, doing whatever. Things felt so simple with him, and you knew he would always be there if you needed help with anything. With him, you never felt fat. You never felt ugly. You didn't feel self-conscious. You were just you. He was just him. 

As your friendship progressed, your crush developed quickly into love. But you knew deep down there was no way he could ever feel the same. He was too handsome and charming to ever go for a woman like you, so you pushed down your feelings as best as you could, and even tried some dating apps to try and find someone else to fill the empty space in your heart.

What you didn't know was that Joel was absolutely head-over-heels, smitten with you, from the moment he laid eyes on you at his brother's backyard barbecue. Sure he loved his brother, but nobody wants to spend that much time at their sibling's house. He came over constantly, hoping to see you, until eventually you became close enough that he didn't have to make a scene at his brother's house to get your attention. He could just go to yours. 

Tommy constantly teased him about it, and Maria couldn't help but notice the way you looked at Joel either. Even the kids could tell. The girls loved you like a mother, though you'd never see it. It seemed that it was obvious to everyone but you and him. Joel would flirt, try to gently touch you, be sweet, but you never picked up on it. Although you never pushed away his attempts, you never seemed to reciprocate either, so Joel just figured you didn't like him that way. But he couldn't help flirting, touching, staring at you. And if you didn't protest, he didn't plan to stop. He couldn't if he tried.

While the two of you talked, the cookies, what was left of them, baked in the oven. Finally Tommy came in, two large pizzas in hand. "Now I better not see that movie playing! I warned you two."

He noticed the black television screen and wandered to the kitchen. "Good. You waited for me- oh man! You made cookies? My favorite," he said with grabby hands towards the first pan, still cooling on the stove. 

"Now, don't spoil your dinner. You just brought pizza home, let's eat." You shot a knowing look with Joel after the two of you were practically full already with cookie dough.

"Fine. Whatever, mom." Tommy took a plate from you, sliding a piece of pizza onto his plate and heading towards the couch.

_____ 

An hour into the movie, you were all full with pizza and dessert, Tommy in the sofa chair on the side, you and Joel settled into the love seat. You leaned towards his right side, his right arm over the back of your seat. A blanket covered the two of you, and his left hand was crossed over his lap on top of the blanket, hoping you would hold it if you got scared. Whenever a jump scare did happen, you didn't grab for him, but at the slightest flinch, he would palm your knee, rubbing his thumb over you to calm you down. Such a nice guy. I'm so lucky to have him as my friend.

Once when Joel did this, Tommy caught the sight out of the corner of his vision. He rolled his eyes and gave a gagging face. Joel gave him a quick angry brother stare that made Tommy turn back toward the film.

At some point, you felt your pocket buzz. Peering under the blanket at your screen, you saw the little heart notification, letting you know it was one of the dating apps you downloaded. Heart beating faster, you excused yourself saying you wanted to get a drink. Upon entering the kitchen, you quickly opened the notification with shaky hands. You had sent out at least a half dozen matches to people, all turned down the second they saw your profile. The most recent had sent a message as well. "Seriously? Ur gross. Good luck finding anyone to date you lmao." Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your body and pinched the fat of your stomach. You had four apps and had sent countless requests, matches, and swipes. Even guys who were big themselves had turned you down. You looked in the kitchen at the pile of cookies, the mostly empty pizza boxes, the bowl of Halloween candy. If the boys weren't here, you'd toss it all in the trash. You suddenly felt self-conscious. Your clothes were tight, your body was heavy and flabby, and you almost felt nauseous. The first sting of tears welled at your eyes, and you dashed off to your bedroom, hoping to quell these emotions before anyone would notice. You weren't ready to go back to the living room.

After a couple minutes, Joel had paused the TV to wait for your return. "She probably had to pee or something. Said she was gettin' a drink." Tommy nodded and the two of them talked. After about ten minutes had passed, Joel began to worry. Even Tommy began to wonder and finally said "where'd your girlfriend end up? It's been a while."

Joel shook his head at Tommy's name for you, but got up off the couch. "I'll go see what's up." He walked into the kitchen and didn't see you, so he kept walking through the house before finally starting upstairs. "Darlin'? You okay?" He still didn't see you, but upon approaching your bedroom door, he heard a soft sniffle.

He gently tapped on the door with his index finger's knuckle. "Sweetheart?" Your sniffling stopped and you quickly wiped your eyes, trying to hide your tears as he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys wait, I was just changing into some comfier clothes." He noticed you had switched from your favorite dress to some sweats and a baggy hoodie. You still looked beautiful to him, though he was a bit confused at the change. "I'll be right down, why don't you go start the movie again." He crossed the room to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to start the movie. What's wrong, darlin'?" 

You pouted, trying to choke back more tears, but his gentle brown eyes made it hard to keep your emotions inside. Joel cupped your cheek, running his thumb gently under your eyes and catching a tear that made it past your walls. You'd never cried in front of Joel before. You made it a goal of yours to try and hide any sad emotions from people, especially him.

"I don't want to ruin the night, Joel. It's nothing. Let's just go back downstairs. I'll be right behind you."

Joel stood up and nodded his head, walking out the door and closing it gently behind him. 

You didn't think he'd actually leave. But it shouldn't surprise you. Who wouldn't leave you?

An aggressive sob ripped through your chest.

_____

Joel walked downstairs, joining his brother.

"You find her?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah I did. Look, she's not feeling too good right now. I think it's best we call it a night."

"Ah, man. She sick or somethin'?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah somethin' like that. I'll stay and take care of her. Can you maybe keep the kids tonight?" Joel answered, ushering Tommy out the door. Tommy gave him a look, but nodded and walked out the door towards his own house.

Joel closed the door behind him and walked back upstairs, stopping to grab a glass of water for you on the way. He knocked gently again before entering your bedroom, and you turned around, surprised to see him. "Joel? I thought you were watching the movie?"

"Nah, darlin' I could never leave you when you're upset. I sent Tommy home and he's gonna watch the girls tonight. Here, I brought you some water." He sat the water on the nightstand. "Now, you wanna tell me why you're cryin'?" He sat next to you, rubbing your back gently.

You took a sip of the water, set it back down on the nightstand, and sighed, looking down at your hands in your lap which held your cell phone.

"Well, I uh…" you cleared your throat gently. "I recently joined some dating apps..."

Joel's heart took a slight stab, but he pushed it down. You're the one needing comfort, not him.

"I guess, I dunno… I know it's kinda silly, but I've been feeling kinda lonely and y'know... I'm getting older. I'm running out of time to have babies. But, I really just want someone to call mine. Someone to laugh with and go on dates with and…" you tapered off, not wanting to admit your desire for cuddles, kisses, and love-making. 

"Oh, sweet girl," he held you in his arms. "That's nothing to feel shy or silly about. It's natural to want those things. But why are you cryin'? Did somethin' happen?"

"I just… I haven't gotten any matches. Everyone I've sent anything to has denied me, and-" you sniffled and Joel pulled you tighter. "Shh, shh, sweet girl, it's okay. Those people on those apps, they don't know what they're missin' out on. They don't see how beautiful and sweet y'are. They wouldn't know how to treat you right anyway. If they can't see how wonderful you are, they don't deserve to be with ya anyway."

"Thank you Joel…" you muttered. "But… it's not just that. I got a message when we were watching the movie and I went into the kitchen to read it, and-" you handed him your phone with a sniffle. Joel pulled away from you, holding the phone back a bit to read it with his bad vision. As he read it, his jaw and fists clenched. It may have been the first time Joel saw you cry, but it was also the first time Joel got angry when it was just the two of you.

"If I knew where this asshole little boy lived, I'd go over there right now and kick his ass for saying something like that to you" he seethed. "I can't believe anyone would say something like that to you."

You picked at a hangnail on your finger, still staring at your lap. Finally Joel took a breath and looked at you again. "Darlin'. You don't - you don't believe that guy do you?" He asked while rubbing your back again.

"Maybe…" you felt tears run down your cheeks. "I mean, he's right, isn't he? I'm not attractive or skinny. Nobody wants me, not even any of these guys on this app. Even the guys who aren't skinny don't want me either."

"Sweetheart. That's just not true. Look at me-" he lifted your chin with his left hand, right arm still holding you close. You hesitantly met his gaze, your wet eyes looking into his gentle browns. "Those men, if you even wanna call them that, they wouldn't know what beautiful was if it slapped them across the face. You're the most beautiful, sweet, funny woman I've ever met. Any man would be lucky to have you." He took a deep breath before admitting, "I'd be lucky to have you."

"What-?" You interrupted him.

"Darlin'... I never want to push your boundaries, but you don't see how often I flirt with you, tease you, and touch you? You don't see how smitten I am with you?" You frowned, brows furrowing as you picked through your memory. "I thought you were just a nice guy. Just a friend. I didn't… I didn't think you could ever like me as more than a friend, so I just ignored the butterflies I got around you." 

You searched his eyes, waiting for a joke, or your alarm to go off and wake you up from this dream.

"Sweetheart, I've been in love with you since just about the time I saw you walk across my brother's lawn towards me. I just figured y'wasn't interested in me that way."

"Joel," you laughed. "I've felt the same way."

He smiled, once again tilting your chin, yet this time pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, but held so much love and meaning, that the two of you couldn't help but smile in the middle of it. He pulled away, "and by the way, y'aren't old either. If anyone's old here, it's me. But if you want babies, I'll give you all the babies you want. But you already got two girls who love you. Sometimes I think they even love y'more than me," he laughed.

You smiled at him and nodded "I do love those girls like they're my own. But I would still like a little baby someday too."

He kissed you again, more passionately this time, licking your lip until you opened up and let your tongues dance together. He pulled away, running his nose across your jaw before stopping at your ear. "Only one way to give you that, darlin'." He gently bit your earlobe before kissing down your neck. 

You sighed. "Joel… please."

"Please, what darlin'?" He purred, kissing your clavicle through your baggy shirt. 

"Please, make love to me" you answered breathlessly, tipping your head back so he could better access your neck. 

"Take these baggy clothes off then, baby. Lemme see you," he gave you one last kiss on the lips before the two of you began undressing, stopping every few seconds to share grabby kisses. Once undressed, he pulled you into him and kissed you deeply, your hands on his chest. With a swift move, he tumbled the two of you sideways so that you were now on the bed, him on his back and you straddling his hips. You leaned down, kissing his lips, while the slight movement against his waist caused you both to moan at the feeling. "Baby I've wanted this for so long. Let me take care of you," Joel whispered, thumb stroking your cheek. He flipped the two of you over, slithering down towards your waist, where you spread your legs for him. He groaned, looking at how evident it was you wanted him, pumping his already hard cock a few times. Flattening himself on his stomach, he gently touched your thighs and began to kiss your legs. "Y'sure you still want this, baby?" 

"Yes Joel, please" you answered, tense with anticipation. Without a beat, he tipped his head down, licking a stripe up your slit. You let out a sigh, hips bucking toward his face. "I know baby, I know." His low timbre vibrated through your core. He gave a quick peck to your clit before swirling his tongue around it and heading downwards, licking between your folds while his nose continued to put pressure on your clit.

His fingers slid through, touching your entrance in a questioning way. "Yes, Joel, please" you cried, wiggling closer, your hands tugging at his hair. 

With your pleas, he inserted his finger, curling upwards before adding a second and finally hitting that spot inside you that made your breathing catch in your chest. He stroked, while still licking gently, occasionally sucking on your clit. Before long you were gripping the sheets with one hand, his hair in your other, as you finally tumbled into your orgasm. "So beautiful, baby" he coaxed, licking you through the waves of pleasure. 

"Think you're ready for me?" He looked up at you over your plush tummy. "Yes, Joel, please I'm so ready."

He stalked over your body, kissing his way up. He kissed your vulva, "I love this," he purred. He kissed your stomach, running his hands across your sides. "I love this," he licked. "I love these," he massaged your breasts, kissing each nipple. "I love you" he finally looked you in the eyes, kissing you on the lips deeply. 

"I love you too." You kissed him back, running your hands through his messy hair, down his broad shoulders and back. His hand snaked around, grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes through your folds until he was wet enough. Finally he pushed against your entrance, slowly entering you, giving you enough time to adjust to his size. Your fingers clawed at his back as he finally pushed all the way in, the two of you sighing in relief. 

Your body adjusted, and with a kiss to his nose, you prompted him to move. "Okay Joel, I'm ready."

Slowly, he began to thrust, pulling slowly out and gently pushing back in, eventually picking up to a pleasurable pace. He kissed you like his lips couldn't be away for longer than a few seconds, and it didn't take much before you were barreling towards your second release of the evening. "I'm almost there, Joel" you kissed, grabbing him around his back. "Me too, baby. Come for me." His thrusts were getting sloppy, but you could tell he was holding himself back for you. His fingers drifted over your clit, giving a few circular strokes and causing you to shudder around him, your eyes slamming shut with a moan. He followed right behind you, a couple messy strokes before pumping into you, filling you up and working you both through it. As the two of you came down from your high, he kissed you passionately, holding you like you were the only thing in the world. 

The two of you lay on your sides, you snuggled into his chest, his chin resting on your head before eventually he became soft and slipped out of you. You both sighed at the loss, but held each other until you rolled out to use the restroom and clean up. When you returned from the bathroom, you asked if he wanted to stay and he said yes. 

You lent him an extra toothbrush and the two of you stood side by side, brushing your teeth and stealing glances at each other in the mirror with matching lovesick smiles. Things felt domestic and comfortable as the two of you walked back to bed, sharing soft kisses snuggled to each other. Having completely forgotten why you were upset earlier, you fell asleep curled into his arms, full of love and hope for the future with a man you loved. 

_____

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast cooking. You strolled down the stairs and saw Joel, wearing just his boxers and tee shirt, grabbing a slice of toast from the toaster. 

At the sound of your steps, he turned and smiled softly. "Morning, baby."

"Good morning, handsome," you replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

"I could get used to that," Joel replied, squeezing your ass and pulling his face away to look in your eyes.

"Joel! You devil," you giggled, gently smacking his arm. "You ain't seen nothing yet, baby" he nibbled your jaw.

After the two of you ate breakfast, you shared a shower, and he threw on a pair of extra clothes he keeps in his car. It would be hard to keep his visit a secret from his brother with his car still in your driveway, but as far as Tommy was concerned, you were sick and Joel was taking care of you.

The two of you made the walk over to Tommy's house to get the girls and participate in Halloween activities for the day. Walking in the door, Tommy pulled you into a hug. "Hey, we were worried about you! Are you feeling better? Were you sick?"

You looked up at Joel, sharing a knowing look. "I was just a little upset about something, but I'm feeling much better now," you smiled. 

Tommy gasped. "FINALLY!!!!" He threw his hands in the air while Maria grinned. 

"Cough it up Tommy!" Sarah held out her hand to her uncle. "You know I had October." He handed her a five dollar bill.

"You bet money on us?" Joel asked in disbelief, rubbing your back. 

"Obviously. You guys have both been pining since you first met," Ellie answered, rolling her eyes. "It was too entertaining for us to interfere though," Sarah added with a smirk.

You stared down at your shoes, feeling embarrassed, but Joel grabbed your hand. You smiled up at him and it felt like everything was aligned. "Yep, we finally took the step. And now I get to do this whenever I want," Joel pulled you into his arms for a deep kiss. 

"UGH. GROSS, DAD." Ellie and Sarah groaned, walking out of the room.

You both laughed, sharing a smile and heading towards the group to get ready for Halloween with your family.

[weewookinard]

I know you said fluffy, this is more smutty, but still happy I promise.

We all know Buck and Tommy are masc4masc, horny4horny, freak4freak, but the reason why they're each other's best ever sexual experience is because they're also goofy4goofy.

Both big beefy firefighters, they're used to being expected to act a certain way, to play a certain role in a sexual relation. They're no strangers to kinks either. What's precious about them is that they feel safe enough to enjoy sex with one another for what it is, without any pressure to preform, and sometimes it means laughing and goofing off mid-act.

Buck is lying on his back in bed, Tommy is bouncing up and down on his cock with near perfect cadence. While Buck enjoys being sloppy, getting lost in the feelings when he bottoms, Tommy never struggles to maintain control when he does, like an expert lap dancer.

Tommy's leaking cock gentle slaps onto Buck's stomach every time their bodies meet. This erotic picture almost makes Buck come on the spot, but then Tommy introduces some circling motion to his hip movement, Buck can't help but close his eyes and throw his head back at the new sensation.

When Buck opens his eyes, he stares at Tommy's cock for a bit, then suddenly turns his head to the side and covers his own face with his hands. Tommy gets a little worried seeing Buck's shoulders shaking, but he merely slows down his pace. They've both seen each other cry during sex before, it's not a big deal, sometimes it gets emotion or it's just hormones doing weird things after a magnificent orgasm.

"You okay, Evan? Want me to stop?" Tommy asks in concern.

"No, don't stop. It's... it's fine," Buck finally takes his hands off his face. While he does have tears in his eyes, he's not sobbing, he's laughing so hard that he tears up.

"What's going on?"

Buck points at Tommy's dick, now spinning around in circles, "it's a... hahaha... it's a helicopter."

Tommy looks down, and yeah, it is kind of funny.

"Wait wait wait, get off, I want to try it myself," Buck pulls out and flips them around so that Tommy is on his back this time.

It takes Buck a few minutes to get the hang of the spin, but he's so proud of himself when he finally gets it.

"Look, Tommy, I'm the pilot now!" Buck's chuckle is soon cut short by a moan, "ahh... wow, this actually feels amazing."

"Don't stop, baby. Keep it in the air."

in France we call this hélicobite and i think that's beautiful 🥲🥲

but for real, i am a fan of this Cee!! my husband and i we laugh a lot when we have sex and sex should be fun and relaxing!

which might not have been the case for Tommy before he met Evan! Sex is supposed to be sexy for a strong man like him, almost animalistic, and shit, and at first he believed it too because he only knew gay sex through porn. what he has with Evan? you don't find it (in porn movies) son, you make it (happily, messily, perfectly ❤️)

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨) 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x fem!reader, possible eddie munson x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you have a secret. that secret has been shared with only two people - your diary and your best friend, just not the one it’s about. but what happens when your secret isn’t so secret anymore?

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: wheeler!reader, angst, so much drama, special appearance: eddie, we do not like carol or tommy in this fic, possibly unrequited love (sorry y’all)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.3k (4343)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 💌: requested by anon a few months back. the request originally asked for byers!reader but i saw nancy and thought they asked for wheeler!reader. i had written 3000 words exactly, and the thought of changing it gave me serious writer’s block. nevertheless, here it is. very plot heavy bc i wanted to show reader and steve’s relationship. enjoy!

p.s. check out my writing here and my other steve story: dancing’s not a crime here

Being a Wheeler is a heck of a job. 

As the second oldest of four children, you don’t know whether to consider yourself the middle child or the outcast. You’ll go with the latter. After all, much to your mother’s chagrin, those are the types of people you spend most of your time with.

The only exception is the one and only Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle the two of you even became friends. But all thanks to your chemistry teacher, who thought the two of you would be a perfect pair, or at least, she only paired you two together because Steve was goofing around, and you were adamant about working alone.

Either way, since then, you and Steve have become best buds. Such an unlikely pair turned heads and brought about glares and eye rolls. But, being who you are and given that your best friend is Eddie Munson, the looks and whispers don’t phase you.

Your life is going well. Your grades are improving - you only get the occasional B, which is great because now your mom is off your case. You’re closer to your little brother, which is a feat because he and his friends are rowdy. And you have two incredible best friends who annoy the crap out of you. Other than that, you have no issues.

Actually, you do have an issue. Your issue is currently climbing through your bedroom window.

You lazily watch as Steve clambers into your room. His movements are clumsy and all over the place. If your record player played a quieter track, he’d give himself away.

Once he rights himself, he gives you a wide grin, and you make a point to blink at him, a silent communication of ‘what the hell’?

Steve heads over to your vanity, one that has papers and books haphazardly scattered across it. He bends down to check out his hair, shaping it together as if the tons of Farrah Fawcett hairspray he uses isn’t damn near gluing the strands together.

“Hello to you too, Harrington. What a joy it is to see you tonight.” Your tone is about as dry as burnt toast, prompting Steve to look at your unamused expression through the mirror.

“You’re pissed…” The way he tests the words indicates that he isn’t sure why you’re looking at him the way you are. You huff, nodding in response.

“Why are you even here?”

“Uh…” Steve finally turns away from the mirror to properly look at you. While you seem pissed off, he’s known you long enough to know it’s something else. “What, can’t see my favorite girl?”

“No, Steve, you can’t because you’re always here for Nancy!”

His mouth falls open at your words, making you regret airing your grievances. That’s until he smiles all lopsided-like, and your heart betrays you by beating a little faster than it should.

“You jealous or something?”

Your eye twitches, and you sigh as you fall back on your bed. “You’re awful, you know?” You hear a laugh, and your heart pitter-patters again, betraying you. “And I’m not ‘jealous or something’.” You make your voice octaves deeper to mimic him. “I’m just annoyed.”

The bed dips when Steve joins you. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” You don’t look convinced, and he nudges you. “I’m serious. I might be dating your sister, but you’re still my favorite Wheeler.”

“Whatever. I still don’t believe you. But go before Nancy has a fit.”

“Fine, fine. Rush me, why don’t you?” He hovers by your door, listening to ensure the coast is clear. Before he heads out, he winks at you, giving one of his signature charming grins. “See you later, Wheeler.”

You can’t stop a grin of your own from emerging as you raise a hand as if you’re going to wave. Instead, you flip the bird, “Get out, Harrington.”

Once he leaves, you grab a pillow, burying your face inside to scream. Of all people, why do you have a crush on him? That’s a question answered when you pull out your diary, writing down the feelings you’ll never confess.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Though Steve hadn’t said he’d spend more time with you, he did make an effort. He even went as far as joining you and your friends instead of his own for lunch.

You’re having a conversation with Steve when someone calls him over. Annoyance tugs at you, but before Steve goes, he makes a point to salute you. The simple gesture makes you smile like a schoolgirl, and Eddie quickly calls you out.

“This is sickening to watch.” The brunet pretends to vomit, covering his eyes like a distressed maiden.

Your smile quickly wipes away as you roll your eyes, tossing a grape at Eddie, who somehow manages to catch it in his mouth - the lucky bastard.

“Don’t get mad at me because you’re in love with-” Before he can finish his sentence, you slap your hands over his mouth, shushing. 

“-Be quiet!”

Eddie peels your hands off him, rolling his lips to prevent his laughter from escaping. “I wasn’t going to say you know who’s name. No need to attack me.”

“Yet, for some reason, I don’t believe you.”

Eddie starts chuckling at your tone, and you swat at him, laughter bubbling in your chest. “Stop laughing, you ass.”

From afar, Steve watches the two of you laugh. He’s trying to figure out why his chest feels tight when Carol waves her hand to get his attention.

He directs his gaze to the ginger, who smacks her gum loudly. “What is up with you and those Wheelers? First, you’re friends with one. And now, you’re dating one.”

Tommy chimes in, “Yeah, man. Still can’t believe your friends with that freak.”

Steve isn’t able to defend himself when Carol interrupts. “Tommy’s right, Steve. Nancy was already a stretch, but that freak-” She smacks her gum again, nodding her head over to you. “-she’s a basketcase.”

Now, Steve is used to his friends and their judgmental ways. And, though he has a long way to go, he can acknowledge that he’s changed from the ignorant guy who picked on anyone who wasn’t cool enough. Part of - no - a good majority of that change is thanks to one person - you. So, hearing his assholes of friends calling you a freak and making it seem like being around you is hell on Earth riles him up all the wrong ways.

“Shut the hell up.” Steve scoffs, crossing his arms. He looks over at you, and you’re gesticulating as you recount a story to your friends. Steve’s reminded of how amazing you are as they smile and laugh.

“You assholes don’t even know the first thing about her. She’s the best damn person I’ve ever met, and she’s leagues better than both of you without feeling the need to tear down everybody else that breathes.”

Steve turns back to Tommy and Carol, his harsh glare rivaling their shocked expressions. All Carol can do is slowly chew her gum, looking around as if waiting for someone to snap Steve back to his old self.

“You know what? I don’t have time for this. You can plan the goddamn party on your own.” With that, Steve walks away before he says something extreme and heads back to your table.

“I don’t know about you, Tommy,” Carol blows a bubble with her gum, “But I really don’t like her.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You’re by your locker, sifting through your notebooks and chatting with Eddie, when Steve joins you. Being as keen as you are, the odd look Steve gives Eddie doesn’t go unnoticed. You have half a mind to comment, but Steve speaks before you can.

“You’re coming to the party, right?” Steve asks as he leans against the lockers next to yours.

You roll your eyes in annoyance. There’s a party every day, it seems. You shut your locker before turning to Steve. “How about no?”

“Aw, c’mon, it’ll be a total drag without you there, you know?” Steve lays the charm on thick as he sports a heart-clenching grin. But you’ve learned not to act on those lovey-dovey feelings to protect your sanity.

“If it’ll be such a drag, how about you don’t go…?” Eddie offers, reminding you of how awesome a friend he is. He’s always there to pull you out of situations you don’t want to find yourself. And going to a party with Steve, and undoubtedly his horrendous friends, is not your cup of tea.

“Funny, Munson. Don’t think I was talking to your ass.” Steve’s counter catches you and Eddie off guard, and you throw a ‘what the hell’ look at Steve. You know that Steve is still Steve and has some unsatisfactory traits lingering. But him being unnecessarily rude to Eddie is something you’re not okay with.

“Okay, look…” Steve sighs, which has you raising an eyebrow, awaiting his response. “That was messed up, sorry, dude. I was going to ask if you both wanted to come.” 

Eddie brushes it off with a wave, “Don’t sweat it, man. I get it. But we’ll have to get back to you on this one. Y’know, parties aren’t really our scene.”

You agree with Eddie’s statement with a nod. Steve, however, has difficulty not rolling his eyes at Eddie’s use of we. What, did he not think you could answer on your own? And why the hell is he always getting in his way? But most important, why does it piss Steve off so much?

While Steve ponders, he misses the call of his friends. He only reacts when he sees Eddie stumble towards you. He whips his head around to see Tommy and Carol snickering.

“Watch where you’re going, you damn freak,” Tommy sneers, and some jerks in the back laugh along.

Your books fall out of your arms as you prevent Eddie from becoming too familiar with the ground. “You good, Eds?” He nods, allowing you to help him back on steady footing.

You glare at Tommy, who laughs like a fucking hyena. You’re about to rip him a new one when Steve steps in, much to your and everyone else’s surprise.

“Jesus, Tommy… You have to be such a dick all the time?” Steve pointedly asks as he bends down on one knee to pick up your fallen books. It’s a simple act - a fine gentleman courteous enough to help a distressed maiden. But, you don’t know, something about how Steve gathers your things, handing them to you with that oh-so-apologetic expression, makes that simple act not so simple. 

A singular strand of hair loses its hold and flutters down to frame his face, and, like an idiot, all you can form is, “Thanks…” You hear Eddie snort quietly beside you, and as you take your books from Steve’s outreached hands, you make sure to jab the brunet in the side with your elbow.

“Always with the fucking Wheelers…” Carol sighs, popping a bubble of her gum. Like birds migrating, their small group of goons disperses in pursuit of more havoc. You’re grateful for two reasons. 1. They’ll leave you and Eddie alone. 2. Most importantly, you’re sure it’s plain as day how flustered Steve’s actions made you.

You’re about to give Carol and Tommy a piece of your mind when the bell rings for a second time. You curse, haphazardly shoving your books into your backpack.

One more tardy, and Mrs. Nelson might make do on her promise to slap you and Eddie in Saturday detention. That was just something neither of you could afford. You grab Eddie’s hand, and in your haste, you miss the disgruntled look on Steve’s face.

You two run down the hall, and just as you reach the corner, you turn around and lift your hand to wave bye to Steve. “See you never, Harrington!”

The corner of his mouth upturns when your wave turns into flipping the bird. “Oh, and fuck you, Tommy and Carol!”

The two scoff behind Steve, who only smiles, shaking his head. “Gotta love those Wheelers.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s Friday night, also the day of the party. Now, you’ve made all reservations to stay at home in the comfort and safety of your room. You’re all set to do just that until Steve comes to pick up Nancy. Ever since your mom caught him sneaking through your bedroom window to see your sister, he’s made more effort to appear at the front door. For good reason - Karen Wheeler might be head of PTA and bakes cookies, but she’s one woman you don’t want to be on the wrong side of.

You’re rifling through the pantry when Holly runs to you. She tugs at your pants legs until you turn around to see her with a piece of paper. You eye it warily until she aggressively thrusts her hand out, pointing to the front door before running off.

The crumbled piece of paper reads: “PARTY? Yes or yes?”

You snicker, pocketing the note as you gather your snacks and head for the stairs. On your way, you spot Nancy gracefully gliding down and almost envy her because you always trip over a step. 

Nancy stops you before you can ascend. “Oh, are you staying home again?” The ‘again’ is an ongoing joke with your family since you’re affectionately dubbed a hermit.

“She’s not,” Steve answers as he joins the two of you, and your eye twitches a bit when he swings an arm around her shoulders. “She’s coming to the party.”

Your face furrows as you pretend to think. “Hmm, you know, I don’t think I ever agreed to that. By the way, Harrington, you didn’t give me an option for no way in hell.”

Steve groans, “C’monnn, it’ll be a blast.” You almost let the thought of him being cute as he pouts linger in your mind but instead push it away.

You yawn tiredly, tucking your snacks under one arm as you cover your mouth. Blinking slowly, you squint before sighing in acquiescence. “This isn’t a yes, but I’ll consider it.”

You can see that Steve is fighting the urge to persuade you more, and the way he settles for a cool nod makes you bite back a grin. You wave goodbye to him and Nancy as you trek back to your bedroom.

You’ve nearly reached the top when Steve calls your name from the open front door. You turn around to see a cheeky grin. “Don’t forget Munson’s invited, too. See you there.”

You find it hilarious how sure he is that you’ll show up. There is absolutely no chance in hell you would go to the party. No chance at all-

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The music from the party sends vibrations throughout Eddie’s van, and you’re suddenly regretting coming. You turn to Eddie with an unsure look and almost laugh at his mirrored expression.

“Twenty minutes tops.” Eddie frowns as a couple runs in front of the van, cackling as they head for a cluster of trees further back. It’s so obvious what they’re up to.

“Ten.” You can’t fathom spending more time here, and you haven’t even made it inside yet.

Eddie nods in agreement, moving to get out before he stops to turn to you. He pokes you with a finger to get your attention. “Hey, you feeling okay?”

You furrow your brows, sighing. “I don’t know. Something feels off…”

“Maybe it’s the fact that we’re here… at this party… which, can I just add, is totally not our scene?” Eddie suggests, making you frown slightly.

“I don’t know. Today has been a bit weird. I was looking for something earlier and couldn’t find it, and then I had to see Steve and Nancy being, well, a couple. And, get this, I stumbled down the stairs when you came to pick me up.” You sigh again. “Maybe this was a bad idea…” you mumble, looking out the window to see someone vomiting on the lawn. Your nose crinkles, and you quickly avert your gaze to Eddie before you get sick, too.

“Well, how about this?” Eddie grins, trying to prompt one of your own. “We show face, talk to that guy - the unnamed one you have a major hard-on for. Then we make our grand escape, and guess what?” You look at him amused and respond with a hum. “We head back to my place and spend the rest of the night watching awesome movies and listening to super cool music. Sound good?”

You hate that Eddie knows you so well. With an affectionate eye roll, you breathe in and out. “Sounds good. Let’s go, Munster.”

The party is in full swing inside. It seemed the outside partying was just a warmup for what you two would face. Some acquaintances greet you and Eddie, sending waves and raising their drinks. It’s almost comical because it makes you feel like you’re one of the “cool” kids.

Somehow, you and Eddie find yourselves in the thicket; the music’s bass rumbles through you, and you see far too much bumping and grinding for your liking. You look around for the only reason you attended this shit show and come up short. However, you see Carol, who has an annoyingly cocky grin as she passes you, whispering something to Tommy, who snickers. 

You’re about to comment on it to Eddie when someone calls your name. You look around until you see Steve heading towards you.

“Heyyy, you made it!” His enthusiasm brings about a simpering grin of your own. Steve pulls you in for a hug, throwing his arm around your shoulder, and you have to tell your heart to stop doing somersaults.

“Yeah, I did.” You smile up at him and almost laugh at his dopey expression. You’re not sure why he’s looking like that, but you attribute it to drinking. After all, is Steve Harrington really at a party if he doesn’t down an entire keg in seconds?

“You look really pretty, you know?” His words make you swallow harshly, knowing that his drunk words are kryptonite to your sober, hopeless, lovesick little heart. 

You can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks, and you’re sure that if he continues staring at you with that look you can’t quite name in his eyes, you’ll be a walking heat advisory. You gently jab at his shoulder, dismissing him with a wave of your hands and a roll of your eyes. “Sure, sure. Let the alcohol talk.”

“It’s not the-” Steve doesn’t finish his sentence when Nancy joins your little party, nuzzling up to him. The sight makes your heart clench in a not-so-pleasant way, and you smile briefly to show good camaraderie, but deep down, you hate yourself for feeling this way.

Nancy greets Eddie, and you silently curse yourself for forgetting he was there. Knowing that he witnessed the entire interaction, you chuckle, sure he’ll find some way to tease you about it later.

You spend the next few minutes talking with Steve and Nancy, who soon enough become engrossed with each other. The whispers and drunken laughter they share make your eye twitch, which catches Eddie’s attention.

“You know, it’s getting pretty late, so I think we’re going to head out,” Eddie says, forcing a convincing yawn. 

“Nooo,” Steve groans, unwrapping his arm from Nancy to place his hand on your shoulder. “You can’t go just yet. Stay. Please.” His bottom lip juts out just a bit as he pouts, begging you to stay with those big brown eyes, and a tiny part of you screams just how kissable he looks.

Instead of succumbing to that deep-down desire, you smile, tilting your head to look at him. “Sorry, Harrington. It appears you’ve exceeded your time limit.” You pat his hand, squeezing it gently before removing it. You swear you can feel his fingers curl around your palm, but he steps back in defeat before you can discern.

“It was fun talking with you guys, though. Who knows, maybe we’ll come to another par-”

You begin stepping away from him when a screech makes you and everyone else stop in their place. You turn to the source to find Tommy and Carol - of course, it’s them - standing atop a table with a microphone. 

You have half a mind to leave, but for some reason, you feel compelled to stay.

“Hi, everyone! Hope you’re all having a fantastic time!” Carol starts, her words slurred and voice oh so annoying. Cheers erupt from the crowd, but she’s quick to quieten them with a hand in the air. “I have a little special announcement for one of our esteemed guests…” 

She pauses dramatically, a mischievous look on her face. You’re not the only one who notices. Eddie leans down to whisper, “I think we should go.” You agree, feeling uneasy, but just when you turn to go, you hear your name.

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes are on you, Steve and Nancy included. You stare at Carol warily, wondering where she’s going with this.

“You see, little miss weirdo over there has a big fat crush on her best friend. But Steve is too busy fucking little miss perfect to give her the time of day.” Muttering and snickers and gasps of surprise sound around you as your heartbeat quickens. Tommy pulls your diary from his jacket, flipping it open to an earmarked page.

“‘Dear diary… I can’t believe I have a crush on Steve Harrington! I hate him and his perfect hair and charming smile and-’” Tommy pauses his reading to smirk. “Here’s the best part.” He pitches his voice annoyingly high, “‘I think I might just be in love with him, but of course, he has to be dating my sister, of all people.’”

If the humiliation doesn’t break you, seeing Steve and Nancy’s expressions as you slowly turn to them does. Nancy looks betrayed, and there’s a hint of anger in her eyes. You don’t blame her; you felt the same when you discovered she was dating Steve. Speaking of which, he looks confused; his brows pinch together, and his mouth is agape. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. What can you say? You don’t know. But you know that standing there while everyone looks at you isn’t helping you. Before you can register it, you’re running out of the house, pushing past everything in your way.

You don’t hear or see Steve marching right up to the table. “You’re real pricks, you know that?” He asks, snatching your diary from Tommy’s hands, sending him stumbling and falling off the table on his butt. Laughter erupts when Tommy falls. “Fucking assholes,” Steve sneers as he heads outside to look for you.

Eddie unlocks the van, and you’re about to hop in, ready to ditch this shit show, when someone grabs your wrist. You turn around to find Steve. He offers your diary to you. The thought of snatching it away crosses your mind before you remind yourself that although Steve begged to come along to the party, this whole shitshow wasn’t his fault.

So, instead, you gingerly take it from him, tucking it tight under your arm as if someone might come to steal it again. Then it’s tense - despite the cool night air sprinkling goosebumps along your exposed skin, the air feels unbearably thick, and you find yourself harshly swallowing the lump in your throat. 

Steve is the one to break the silence. 

“You never told me.” Those four words made you scoff bitterly, not at him but at the entire situation. 

“You never asked,” is your retort. 

Steve casts his gaze down to the ground, nodding solemnly. It’s another few seconds before he opens his mouth again. “I always thought it was Munson.” His confession shocks you. Is that why he’d always been so cross with Eddie?

“Well, now you know.” It’s unbearable standing here, trying to talk through this shitty situation. With a breath, you say, “I should go, Steve. No point in me hanging around.”

Steve falters, reaching an arm out to stop you from moving. “You can’t just walk away. We should talk-”

“Talk about what, Steve?” You pull your arm away from his grasp, fully turning to face him. “About how awful of a person I am. About how I fell in love with my best friend, and he chose my sister?” As you speak, frustrated tears fill your eyes, and Steve feels his heart break a little more. “Did you ever…” You breathe deeply, steeling yourself. “Did you… have you ever felt anything for me…?”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, and had this been a different situation, you might have poked fun at him for looking like such a goofball. He finds it hard to meet your eyes, and though he never says a word, you already have your answer.

You scrunch your nose, blinking away the tears. You’ve already humiliated yourself enough tonight, and you won’t be adding crying to the list.

It’s then that you can hear music booming from inside the house - the rest of the partygoers continuing without a care, like some girl’s life didn’t just get flipped upside down and all around. You spot Nancy lingering near the entrance. She has this unreadable expression, but she’s not as angry as before. She looks sad, and that makes you feel even worse.

You tear your gaze away before looking at Steve, tears threatening to fall, and with a bittersweet smile, you say, “Tell Nancy I’m sorry for me, please. Goodbye, Steve.”

With those parting words, you quickly hop in Eddie’s van, and he knows to drive away without you even saying anything. You look out the rearview mirror to see Steve standing there, watching you leave.

Later that night, when you’re donning some of Eddie’s clothes, and he’s attempting to cheer you up, you pull out your diary one last time and write:

Dear (not so) secret diary,

Life is shit

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[911lsbts]

Where did the idea for this final emergency come from? And it’s teased at the top of the episode the asteroid won’t be the only part of the emergency in the finale, yes?

The high concept of this episode being the asteroid and the secondary crisis it causes for our characters — our cast and our crew, we’d all found ourselves in this sort of end-of-the-world feeling for us when our show was canceled, in all of our minds, too soon. I think that was infused in where we wanted to end this season, and put all of our characters and our audience through this feeling that the world was just ending too abruptly. And that’s the theme of these last two episodes, in all of the storylines, and also in terms of our actual emergency.

We were looking for an emergency that started with that theme. So then the two ways that the world could end too soon would be, 1) the asteroid, which we thought was the perfect metaphor of what we felt like, and then, 2) the thing that the asteroid causes in the finale, which I won’t fully spoil, if you couldn’t deduce it from the opening of this episode.

After this, do you think it’s going to be pretty hard for “9-1-1” to top this series finale when it comes time for that show to end on ABC one day?

It’s funny, because Tim and I work hand in hand. We both are executive producers on both shows, and so we’re always thinking we have to make each episode, whether it’s “Lone Star” or “9-1-1,” you look at each one and say, “What’s the best thing that we can do for this moment of each particular show?” And we never pull punches. One thing we often have to say is, “Wait, you can’t do that. We just did that on Episode 5″ of this show. You can’t do that kind of emergency or that viral video, because we already did it.” But we always want the best for both shows, the biggest for both shows, and I’m sure that we’ll figure something out for “9-1-1.”

In this episode, we find out TK and Carlos are not being approved to adopt Jonah strictly because of their high-risk jobs. Does that mean that one of them will quit their chosen careers so they can proceed with adopting him?

I once read that, “There is no meaning without sacrifice.” So to make the most meaningful decision of one of their lives, somebody is going to have to make a decision. This decision gets made before the apocalyptic event, in either case, as you’ll see in the finale. But I think you’re onto something.

At the end of the episode, it’s heavily implied Tommy has died due to the effects of her cancer, and she even sees her late husband Charles welcoming her into the afterlife before she appears to pass away. Can you confirm whether she’s dead going into the finale?

I’ve said when we did this whole journey with Tommy’s cancer and with Gina, the actor, as well is we really were going to have to go all the way. And a big part of it was also an opportunity in this episode for Tommy to have it come full circle. And to be to be frank, I took a lot of heat for ending the Trevor and Tommy relationship, but part of why we did it is because I knew this was where we wanted to take her character full circle with this love of her life. And not to get too personal, but when my mom, right before she passed, I was in her hospital room, and she was telling me about how her mom and dad had come to visit her that morning. And it was so vivid for her. She wasn’t saying it as if, “Oh, they’re ghosts.” She was just saying it as if it happened. And then she passed not long after, and it gave her such comfort. And I think that stuck with me.

And it was actually Tim Minear who said we should find a way to get Charles back in the show before it’s too late. And that was a deep anchor of inspiration that we really wanted to get to. And it seemed like this was the way that we could really show what that love of her life meant to her, and also this cancer battle was going to require the ultimate, I don’t want to say price — but that she’d have to go to the ends of herself. So that’s what I’ll say about it.

You get into two big character storylines in this penultimate episode: Mateo being deported and Paul mentoring a nonbinary teen who is endangering themselves in stunts to gain acceptance and popularity. Why did you decide to approach these two topics with so little time left in the show?

Like I was saying before, part of the theme of these last two episodes is that your world could end at any moment. And for Mateo, he’s just at the gardening shop with his girlfriend, and he thinks he’s having an existential moment when she reveals that she doesn’t want to get married, but then actually, no, the real existential threat is because of his tenuous DACA status, even an injustice could cost him everything. And what you’ll see in the finale, I think, is it’s going to lead Mateo to the ultimate place of growth in this series by doing it. So that was part of it, to tell that Mateo story at the end.

And then as far as the Paul story, funny enough, when there were about four episodes left of our show, Brian Smith, who plays Paul, came to me and said, “Look, in the pilot of this show, the way that Owen is able to convince Paul to stay in Austin, is he says, ‘Somewhere out there in Austin is a kid just like you looking who doesn’t feel accepted for who they are, and maybe one day they’ll see a firefighter like you and believe that they matter.'” And he said, “Wouldn’t it be cool if before the show wraps, we made good on that little promise?” And I thought that was a brilliant idea. So Brian is the reason why we did that story, because he brought that up from the pilot and that led to the Jax story.

Owen is just about to tell the 126 about his plans to leave and move back to New York to head up the city’s fire departments when the asteroid alert comes in. Should they all make it through this, is Owen going to proceed with his decision to leave Austin?

Well, first he has to live. I’ll say that. I think what we wanted to show in this episode is that you can make up whatever thing you want to make up in your own mind. “I’ve thought about it. I reflected on it. I’m going to do this,” and then real life has something to say about that. And how do you deal with it when your plans get scuttled, because fortune turns its back on you. So you’ll see him experience that. You know, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. That’s what happens for Owen.

[red-pill-blue-pill]

As friends.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Miller

Summary: Joel is your friend, he just happens to be really handsome

Warnings: mild spice towards the end ??? just in case, fluff, friends to lovers (just so y'all know I'm a sucker for that shit)

a/n: I wanted to write a little blurb but it got outta hand. This is is my first time writing for the Joel Miller and i'm nervous (I love this character so much) so please be kind 💖

His living room was dimly lit by one of the lamps next to the couch. Something played in the background, blues you think. He had found a record player a couple of weeks ago while he was patrolling with Tommy. He had even come across some records in perfect condition, tucked inside a tattered wardrobe. He was such a lucky fucker. 

When he came back, he showed them off to you while saying something along the lines of “‘f you wanna listen to them you gotta come to mine, sweetheart” flashing you one of his now familiar cocky smiles, as if he needed to convince you to spend time with him.

Your stomach still churns at the nickname and you chastise yourself every time, for letting your mind even dare to go down that path when it’s Joel the one you’re talking about, for even thinking about him that way. Joel, your fucking friend. It had to be the lack of romantic action in your life. It had been so long since you last were with someone that your brain had to be confused. No one in Jackson had caught your eye for the last couple of years, nor tried to make any advances to you, and who would have dared when you were next to Joel —mean scary Joel— every single day?

Still, you didn’t care, you spent most of your free time either with him or at his house, playing games with Ellie while he was on patrol or sipping on wine and talking about your day when he fixed you a nice dinner. Like right now, back at his living room, soft blues playing in the background and the soft orange light from his lamp rendering the room even cozier. 

You were sitting on his sofa, glass of wine in hand. Blues had never been your type of music, at least not until Joel showed you one of the records he found on patrol, an Eric Clapton one, a smile from ear to ear and an excited “Look what I’ve found, I reckon you gon’ love it.” 

But now, as you look at him sprawled on the couch, his head —his big ass, heavy head— resting on your legs with his eyes closed and humming softly to the song, you believe it may be your favorite. 

You sipped on your wine and carded your fingers softly through his hair, relishing in the feeling of his hair through your fingers. You looked down at him, his face was completely relaxed, the familiar pull of his frown nowhere to be seen. He looked so peaceful like this, his long lashes fanned over his cheeks and the light casted soft shadows over his face. He was so handsome.

“You are so handsome” your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up. His eyes opened, orbs completely dark thanks to the lightning, and he quirked a brow, clearly amused at your comment. You tried to recover quickly “And I’m just saying this the way a friend calls another friend cute, don’t get too excited.” You chuckled. 

Lies, lies, lies.

He scoffed, “Yeah, right.” he closed his eyes again, letting himself enjoy the feeling of your deft fingers through his hair. “Who you tryna fool, sweetheart? ‘m as old as time.”

You stretched your arm to place the wine glass on the coffee table, careful to not disturb Joel with the motion. This time, your now free hand went to trace the lines on his forehead so softly, a barely there touch. A shiver ran down his spine. It had been a long time since someone touched him with such care, as if he was some precious relic, only to be treated with care. 

“Hate that you can’t see what I see, Joel” your voice was soft, charged with love, but still stern. You hated when he was self deprecating, which unfortunately was very often. 

“And what is it you see?” he swallowed the lump in his throat. Why were his hands sweating all of a sudden?

Your fingers drifted to the lines around his eyes, tracing them with your fingertips. “For starters you’re rugged and strong and that’s just plain attractive. Besides, you think age kills beauty, but it’s quite the opposite.” His eyes opened once again and gazed up at you, something you couldn’t quite make out swirling in them. You continued, trying to ignore the heat of his stare “The lines in your face… they mean you’ve lived, you’re alive.” you are here with me

“What do you mean?” his voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse because of the sudden dryness that  had taken over his mouth. 

“This one right here” you smoothed out his semi-permanent frown with your thumb “tells me you’ve got very few friends.” 

“m‘kay, that’s rude.” he feigned hurt for a few seconds, then he saw your bright smile. That goddamned smile, the one he never got tired of seeing. And then he smiled too. A small and barely there grin. 

“Then the ones around your eyes”, your fingers skimmed over his crows feet,  “they tell me that you’ve laughed and smiled a lot, that despite this nightmare we’ve found ourselves in, you were happy once.”

Silent fell over the room, Eric Clapton sang in the background as Joel and you played at your personal staring contest, one charged with unspoken feelings. His eyes were wide in surprise, searching your face, looking for something you sure fucking hoped he found in the way your soft eyes looked back at him. Your fingers still threaded through his locks, not once having stopped since he laid his head on your legs. Everything felt intimate, maybe way too intimate for just a couple of good friends having some wine after dinner. 

A nervousness settled in your bones, the kind of feeling you get when you know something’s about to happen but you don’t know what. Your heartbeat picked up, it thumped wildly against your chest, your eardrums, all along your veins. Then you cleared your throat, unable to stand the silence any longer. “Anyway, as I said, you are handsome.” you let out an awkward breathy laugh. “I‘m telling you as a friend” you quickly added. Again. For good measurement, right?

He sat back up on the sofa, his body slightly twisted to face you. In the daze of the moment you had completely forgotten how broad he actually was, his knee pressing against your thigh. “As a friend…” he echoed back at you, a teasing smile spreading over his features. God, he was going to be the death of you. 

You reached back for your wine glass and nodded absentmindedly before taking a long gulp, not daring to look him in the eyes just yet. Suddenly, his hand cupped your face softly, fingers pressing lightly into your cheeks, encouraging you to look at him. His eyes were filled with tenderness and the kind of hope you have when love is still a possibility. His lips were mere inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. 

“Would’ya mind if I kissed you, sweetheart?” his voice was low and syrupy and it ignited a different kind of desire in you, something you had never felt before, raw, primal. You inhaled sharply and before you were even able to answer he added “As friends, that is.” he chuckled, clearly proud of himself for teasing you, and you smiled fondly. 

“Ain’t that what really good friends do?” you laughed breathily.

“Oh, I reckon they do a whole lot more than that.” 

His lips pressed softly against yours, a softness you knew Joel was capable of but you had never experienced it yourself. Now, after getting a taste you didn't want to live without it. His hand moved to cup the back of your head, tangling with the hair at the nape of your neck, keeping you against his lips, deepening the kiss. Your hands found purchase on his shoulders, and thank god because suddenly Joel was grabbing your thighs and pulling you to straddle his lap. 

He took advantage of the gasp of surprise that left your lips and licked greedily into your mouth. His hands roamed your back, going down occasionally to squeeze your ass over your jeans, relishing in the whimpers he pulled from you. Your hips started moving on their own accord, rutting against Joel’s growing bulge, making a deep groan rumble on his chest.

You tugged on his hair to break the kiss and stared dreamily at him. His pupils were blown out, his half lidded eyes hazy with lust, his lips swollen and red from kissing and a light shade of red tinted his cheeks. He was positively fucked out. 

“You want this?” he asked while playing with the hem of your t-shirt, ducking his head once again to lick and kiss at your neck.

You could only muster a distracted “Hmh” as you kept rutting your hips against his. “As friends?” you asked between whimpers.

He pulled away to look at you, a hint amusement in his eyes as he took in the cocky grin you were sporting despite the lust filled gaze directed at him. His hands slipped past the waistband of your jeans, grabbing your panties from behind and pulling till the fabric rubbed against your clit. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips.

“As friends” he answered before claiming your mouth once again.

[mazzystar24]

Hi, a 'BT' here! (Although I also happily ship buddie too because multishipping is so valid!) I come in peace and just looking for some discourse if that's okay? I saw the ask in regard to apparently BTs are saying that all the focus on rg means he's leaving? I haven't seen anyone say that on either side so a strange one huh!

But it was more your comments in terms of pushing for Tommy to replace Eddie as lead when Ravi is right there and I just wanna say I agree! And I have seen many bucktommy shippers including myself pushing for Ravi to be main cast. He absolutely should be and deserves it and is an absolute darling angel and I love what he brings to the whole dynamic!

My biggest hope for Tommy is for his to be recurring much like Karen! Speaking of, there's another character I'd love to be main cast and who I think is ahead of the queue in front of Tommy to be main cast. Heck I'd love if all of them got to be main cast but, as much as I love bucktommy, I definitely can see there's an order to who should be main cast and don't want any 'queue jumping'

One other thing I want to out out there as food for thought, is that on both sides I see a lot of discourse thrown out through anonymous asks of 'oh the bts are saying this' or 'the buddies said this ridiculous thing!' And something I would love both sides to seriously consider is... did they really? Or are there just a few people out there who feed on the chaos that it all brings and will send out anon asks that they know will increase this 'fandom war'and pretend they are kn the other side when doing so just to get a reaction and give ammunition to 'their' side to make it seem like one side is delusional and the other side isn't?

Tldr I just wish we all got along and stopped taking messages intended to stir up hate as gospel.

Peace and love

Glad you agree on the Ravi/ main thing front!

As you know I want tommy out already so no recurring hopes from me sorry 😔💔 ngl at first I was like hmm it can be interesting and I’m not opposed to exploring bt and their potential dynamic and maybe they can redeem him and make him likeable it’d be perfect (like my comparison was if they wrote him like Hannah from bones) but like buddie endgame but as eps went on both he and a section of the fandom became so insufferable to me that I’m like I don’t care about the potential juicy storylines I just want this man off my screen - but it’s totally cool if you like him and ship them it’s just not my cup of tea

For the other part I totally get what you mean and that may be the case like I totally agree that that is possible but I hear like so many things that happen in the bt fandom secondhand cos I’ve got so many of the toxic/annoying ones blocked (my block list is a mile long genuinely) and so many have me blocked too but usually stuff that my anons mention will be talked abt by more people in the fandom (like this is) or like there have been times where if I ask my anons for elaboration links ss etc and they are able to do so

That’s why half the time when I reply it’s more so like “damn didn’t know that if that is the case then xyz” you know? Or if I saw something I’ll mention it and be like oh yeah I saw xyz and this is my opinion on it or answer

Also like I’ve first hand seen things that are like 10x worse or more delusional than the “rg must be leaving and s8 lfj main” thing like no lie some of this stuff makes that seem tame in comparison so it’s like the chances they’ve said this are like HIGH

Genuinely I agree with you on that last point I do wish that this fandom was how it used to be and more peaceful but certain things I follow this kinda mental rule I’ve always had which is that I won’t respect a disrespectful opinion

Like from the very start of the discourse I’ve been very oh let ppl ship what they want and enjoy their fandom space and from the start I’ve encouraged proper tagging to help people do that and like even if you’re fully delusional abt your ship I fully respect that (not saying YOU are but I’m saying like let’s say one side is like yesss they are getting married in s8 and having a baby on the first episode I would genuinely just mentally be like woah that’s a bit delulu but love that for you and move on)

My only issue really has been where people from the bt fandom (not saying they are the only ones who do this but I’m saying personally speaking it’s what I see and what I experience also not saying it’s all the bt fans and I do try to say that as much as possible) being disrespectful whether this be through being racist, being ableist or rude to the buddie fans just to boost their ship

Like I’m so not against hating stuff like seriously idc hate whatever you want rant about it and make twenty posts and make so many jokes but when you’re being disrespectful or when it crosses certain bounds it’s like you’re a piece of shit

Anyways I got carried away but thanks for being so nice and respectful in your ask 🫶

[bleue-flora]

I didn't say they don't believe in the staged finale, but they think it's a retcon. A retcon is when something is added to the story that contradicts past information, rewriting it, so they think the finale was originally real and c!dream wanted to do all that, and only closer to the prison break, cc!dream decided to change that part of the plot or something

and it's funny because theories about the discs finale being staged started popping up literally right after that stream and a lot of c!inniters were making fun of or even harassing people who were creating such theories, and also, the content creators themselves admitted that it wasn't a retcon and that a limited circle of people knew about it, it was just kept a secret from everyone. I just really think it's pointless to talk to people who thinks everything is about c!tommy and who think that all of c!dream's actions are centered around c!tommy, that, well, they continue to believe that even though it's refuted by the plot and by the content creators and by the people who love and analyze the character.

it's just, ugh, what kind of conversation can you have with someone who believes that c!dream is a one-dimensional character who was only written to be obsessed with c!tommy and be the "perfect villain" for the "perfect victim", who believes that all characters are just an extension of c!tommy because to them c!tommy is all that matters in the plot. it's simple, these people hate dream smp and they don't care about the efforts of content creators to create interesting multifaceted characters, they are only interested in c!tommy. you can't get a sane dialogue from a person whose brain is so washed that he believes in the stupidest conspiracy theory in the world, and with some c!tommy fans the same🤷‍♂️

[context a & b]

Kinda the same thing isn’t it? Eh whatever. Regardless, you make a good point though I’d stray away from derogatory terms when talking about people’s opinions even if they aren’t based on fact. It’s honestly less of a conspiracy theory and more just ignoring the truth. Conspiracy theories are somewhat based on the unknown, in this case all the info we get comes from the same place - so you either believe streams and the cc!s and lore they make or you don’t and if you don’t then that’s not a “theory” that’s just an opinion based on misinformation and the lack of truth. Which you are right is rather unproductive to discuss if we can’t agree on the facts, but also we are on a public platform so I kinda see it as also having the discussion with all the other 400 something notes lol. Anyways, even if it was rather unproductive, I kinda came out learning something new and thinking about something in a new way, so I had fun which is the whole point of being here anyways. :)

Now what is kinda funny to me is this whole retcon, rewrite, discounting lore thing anyways, because for example c!Dream was originally supposed to fight with Pogtopia but because everyone was joining their side, cc!Dream had to switch to balance it out so they can even have a war at all and created the revive book so that it made sense for his character. So one of the moments I see used against c!Dream to show he is heartless and doesn’t care about friendship and stuff, is actually more so an instance of a rewrite… and yet we all take it at face value and base whole arguments on it, because at the end of the day, it is the lore we have. What’s interesting to me, is that part of the fun of the Dream smp is that it’s a mess, something cc!Tommy talked about recently. A mess, I personally like to take and look at things in a way to see if there are ways and angles where things can make more sense. That’s part of the fun of this crazy story telling. It’s why I started writing fanfiction in the first place, to fill in gaps or plot holes in lore. If you want a structured story more so centered around a protagonist’s specific suffering then go read Harry Potter (not to reduce that story to just that of course don’t come after me that’s not the point). But to take out things or not look at certain things in the context of other things that happened because they don’t follow the less messy dream smp timeline you’ve created in your mind, is to defeat the point. What will you decide wasn’t intended next, if Tommy burning down Tubbo’s house isn’t important, if staged finale wasn’t supposed to be a thing, then what about Tommy finding Techno’s house, didn’t cc!Techno say how that wasn’t supposed to happen? What about the revival book experiments, they were from a video not even a stream can I say those are a retcon and unimportant since the timeline doesn’t even make sense and actively contradicts itself? What about Tommy’s beach party, could the ccs just not come so they had to improvise and rewrite it so it’s empty on purpose? Like why are we deciding was is and isn’t lore or important lore? You wouldn’t discount a book or movie or tv show because it doesn’t make sense, you’d either try and understand how to make it sense or rewrite what you think would have been better - but at that point it is fanfiction it is your world now, you can do anything you want there but that doesn’t make it canon. Honestly to look at the dsmp as anything less than its entirety is a disrespect to the Tommy, to Dream, to Technoblade and everybody else c!s and cc!s alike. And that’s why I reblogged in the first place, because I felt like it was disrespectful to Technoblade and that felt very wrong to me. You can slander Dream all you want, but don’t discount or take away from part of Technoblade’s legacy.

[farmerlarrry]

Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | chapter fourteen | chapter thirteen| read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

a/n: Short–er chapter than usual, but the last few larger chapters completely turned my brain into mush lol and needed a little bit of fluff to cleanse my palate. The last bit was heavily inspired by the song “Wondering Why” by The Red Clay Strays, so shout out to all the people on tiktok for saying this is the perfect song to slow dance to, ily! I hope you are all having a lovely start to December! Stay safe!! :)

word count: 5982

if you want to be notified when I post new chapters, follow @farmerlarrrylibrary and put on notifications! If you'd rather be tagged, just let me know.

Chapter Fifteen

Neither you nor Joel spoke of that night in the weeks that followed. Although left unspoken, what almost happened never left your thoughts. Every waking moment, whether you were with Joel or not, it consumed every part of you, oftentimes leaving you wondering if you’d ever get a chance like that again. You were sure it consumed Joel as well. He was still the same man as before, but something very subtly changed. The way he treats you and looks at you– something was different behind those complex eyes, something deep down. It was almost as if he’d gone soft on you, but was desperately trying to hide the fact, probably a way to try and protect himself. If that was the case, you understood why.  

There was a small part of you that felt embarrassed about that night, your feelings had been put on full display, something that you didn’t think Joel was aware of up until that point. His had been too, which made you wonder if he was embarrassed about it as well– if he regretted revealing that part of him–and perhaps that’s why nothing had been said by him. Every time that thought resurfaced, it nearly sent you into a panic.

You kept having to reassure yourself, knowing him, if he had regretted it, things would not have stayed so… normal between the two of you. Joel still stops by your place in the morning, the two of you sharing breakfast and coffee before heading out for patrol. If anything, the two of you began spending more time together. On the nights you aren’t at Charles’, you and Joel spend together. Tommy would sometimes join, but when Nessa found out about it all of a sudden she needed Tommy home more. 

Although you told yourself that you’d stop drinking, it was the one thing you and Joel often did together. Wake up, patrol, drink… you had a nearly permanent headache, but for you, it was a small price to pay. You were finally content with the life you’ve created, even happy at times. 

James had been avoiding you since that day too. You truly intended to talk to him, not that what you’d say would make things any better, but you at least owed that to him; an explanation. Of the many times you tried, he’d either leave as soon as you were within a 20-foot radius of him and the times you caught him off guard, he’d simply walk away without a word or look directed at you. You missed your chance to talk to James, missed the opportunity when it actually counted, and would come off as genuine.

You thought of maybe writing him a letter, leaving it on his doorstep or with Charles to pass it on to him– that way you’d know for certain he got it, whether he ended up reading it or ripping it to shreds; at least you would know that you tried. Ultimately, the thought seemed insincere and cringe, so you decided just to let things be. 

The remnants of your actions haunted you enough as it is. Between the dirty looks you received from Heather and Aimee, the cold shoulder treatment you received from Nessa, and Dottie constantly asking why you and James never come over together anymore– you felt like all that was punishment enough.

“Why don’t you and James ever come over together anymore,” Dottie often asked some variation of this question crossing her arms and furrowing her brows.

With Charles grimacing in the background, pretending as if he doesn’t hear, you’d return Dott’s curiosity with your own variation of answers– our schedules don’t line up anymore, he’s busy tonight, I was busy with… You wondered if she pressed James about it every time he came over, wondering what he said in response. 

Your actions followed you wherever you went, the only time you had real peace was when you were either alone at home, or when you were out on patrol with Joel with no one else around. The constant stares you received from the other guards around your age left you wondering who had been running their mouths and how much of it was actually the truth. 

Jackson reminded you much of the small town you were from, at least from what little you remember of it. The sense of a close-knit community, for the most part, you could rely on each other, but when it came to the gossip… Everyone took what they heard as fact and had no issues spreading it around.

–

The night after you and Charles spoke in the isolated corner of Jackson BBQ, you went over to his house for dinner as planned. A nervousness fisted your stomach, making it twist and turn with every hesitant step you took toward his house. You wondered if James would be there; if Charles had told him of your company that night– 

Unsurprisingly, James had not come. You weren’t quite sure if you were relieved by this or if some part of you had wished had shown up. 

After the excitement of your company had settled and Dottie and Henry went to sleep, you and Charles sat in his study like the two of you used to do. Most of the time spent had been in silence, but you knew Charles had something to say. His face clearly indicated he was biting his tongue, forcing himself to swallow whatever words that had been filling his mouth, remaining unspoken. 

“James is a good boy, you know,” He finally spoke, his words coming out calm but a feeling of heat behind them lingered after the room returned to silence. You let out a huff of air. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.” 

All you could do was nod; a nod with no meaning other than you didn’t want to leave what he said unacknowledged. What you really wanted to do at the moment was roll your eyes, and if it had been anyone other than Charles initiating this conversation, perhaps you would have. 

“And,” His voice shook as if he was unsure whether to continue, smacking his lips and taking a moment to ponder on his thoughts. You watched him carefully out of the corner of your eye, your body slumped in the firm sofa chair. You tapped your fingers along your thigh as you waited for him to continue. “Joel, he’s–”

At the sound of his name, you shot up from out of your chair before he could finish, beginning to take long strides toward the front door. Whatever he was going to say about Joel, you didn’t want to hear it. You endured the nasty comments from everyone too often, biting your tongue when all you wanted to do was shoot something nasty back at them. You wouldn’t hear it from Charles. 

As you opened the door, Charles came up from behind you, pushing his palm against the door causing it to slam shut. The sound vibrated through the house leaving Charles cringing and eyeing the children’s bedrooms. Although your hand remained on the doorknob, you hadn’t tried to open it again, standing still while your breathing became messy, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Joel’s a fine man too,” Charles’ voice was dark as he spoke, but he was quick to release the words. His statement slightly caught you off guard, forcing you to face him slowly. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye and instead settled on staring at his shoes. “A lot of people here don’t get him and that’s– it is what it is, but he's a good man. He cares and a lot of people don’t nowadays.” 

You felt as if you were stripped bare, your mind and soul naked and completely vulnerable. All you could do was stare at the ground, how the shadow of Charles’ shoes met the raw grain of the wood and the gaps between each plank leading to an abyss of darkness. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, your shoulders tensing up to the point of pain. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Your voice was small. Putting his arm on your shoulder, Charles guided you over to the couch. The two of you took a seat in unison. 

“James told me his… suspicious the day Joel came back, and then you were wearing Joel’s shirt at dinner– let me finish,” His voice was calm, soothing your panic. You tried to butt in, demanding to know whatever James told him, but Charles made you listen. “As I told you before, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I’ll offer you my thoughts, you can take them as they are.” 

Taking a moment to calm yourself, you nodded, urging him to continue. In, out, in… you guided yourself, the stuffy warm air barely doing anything to ease your breathing.

“Regardless of going about it the wrong way, you’re allowed to feel that way– you aren’t… you don’t belong to anyone,” He finally spoke, the reassurance running through you like a sip of cold water on a hot summer day. 

“I fucked up Charles,” You stated simply. “I should’ve– I should have actually talked to James, but Joel came back and– and–” You shook your head, coming to a loss for words, “I didn’t know if Joel would feel the same, and talking about it to anyone was just too much.  I– I don’t know. I thought I liked James, I really did, but when I saw Joel– and my heart, I just felt–”

The words rushed out of your mouth, you weren’t sure if any of it made sense. Charles nodded as he listened, though you weren’t sure he quite understood. You shrugged to signal you were out of words, left with nothing else to say as your breathing turned to shallow sharp inhales. Charles grabbed your hand, holding it in his, and ran soft strokes along your knuckles. You stared at your conjoined hands as he continued, it reminded you of your father, and how he used to calm you when you were in a panic. 

“Does Joel feel the same way?” Charles’ voice was monotonous when he asked. Forcing yourself to look up at him, you swallowed against the lump in your throat.

“Wha– what?” You narrowed your eyes at him, confused. Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest.

“You said you didn’t know if Joel would feel the same way,” he quickly responded, a hint of confusion gleaming in his eyes.

You brought in your bottom lip tugging on it continuously between your teeth as flashbacks from the previous night poured in. You hadn’t realized your wording, you should’ve been more careful. 

“I don’t know,” you quickly correct yourself. You weren’t entirely wrong, for all you knew last night was just… you let out a soft sigh at your own thoughts. “I don’t know if he does.”

A silence fell between the two of you and you became too aware of the soft ticking of the wall clock. Tick, tick, tick. It sounded loud in your ears, your eardrums seizing on each tick.

“Let me talk to James, okay?” he finally said. A weight instantly released from your tense shoulders, the lingering headache disappearing in an instant. Coward, a voice whispered to you, but you ignored it–at least tried to ignore it. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” A heat washed over your face, your body folding in on itself, “about Joel, that is.” 

–

On this particular night, after a long day’s journey to an abandoned ranch and back, you and Joel found yourselves at The Tipsy Bison, tucked in the corner taking in drink after drink and going back and forth between playing billiards and darts.

The bartender for the night apparently was not very happy with how rowdy the two of you became over who won and who lost as well as how riled up you made some of the other guests for the night, to which he sent over Nora– out of everyone, her? You rolled your eyes, knowing she would likely report this back to James– to tell you it was time to wrap things up and go elsewhere. 

“Yours or mine?” Joel asked without fully clarifying what he meant, he knew you would know what he was asking. You jogged the few feet that separated the two of you, nearly tripping over your own feet before slowing down as he pushed against the door with his back and held it open for you. 

You took a moment to think as you stumbled out onto the porch, your hand lightly finding his wrist to grab onto for a short moment to keep you steady. He waited for your answer, slowly taking a few steps down, his torso angled towards you. You were humming softly to yourself as you sort through your thoughts, which were a blur even to you given your state. 

“Probably yours, because–” you started to say but stopped yourself mid-sentence. Joel completely turned his body to face you, now slowly walking backward in front of you. His face twisted in confusion. “Actually, I know a place we can go to.”

Joel cocked his head waiting for you to reveal the location.

The abandoned building.

–

The entire walk you were hoping to whatever higher power there was that the others weren’t there. You didn’t see them at the bar so that didn’t leave many other places they could be. You knew that Drew and James were both due to go out for an overnight run sometime this week to Teton Valley, but that still left Heather, Aimee, and Nessa unaccounted for. They wouldn’t go out there, not without James or Drew, you kept telling yourself–reassuring yourself–of the fact that the three girls were a bit wary of how far away the building was from the main part of the community, regardless of the safety each guard ensured as a priority.

It wasn’t a quick walk by any means. You had to walk past the cemetery and greenhouses to where a field lay bare. In recent months, Maria has tasked some of the community members to turn half of it into more farmland and the other half left to expand the greenhouses, but the work efforts have been slow, especially with the urgent help with harvesting. 

Past the field where the trees stand dense, there is a pathway, easily missed if you don’t know what you’re looking for. That pathway leads to the building and about a hundred yards past the building was the fencing that kept Jackson contained.  

Although it was hidden away from the community and not used for anything in particular, many of the guards as well as Maria and Tommy knew about it. No one ever explicitly said not to go to it, but many of those who knew about it seem to forget about it which is how it became the go to hang out spot for you and the others. It offered a sense of secrecy with safety and was far enough from the main parts of Jackson where you never had to worry about being too loud. 

The darkness crawled at your skin and a feeling of being watched hovered around you which seemed to help you sober up. Joel was behind you, only a few feet separating you from him. Occasionally you’d peer over your shoulder, mainly to make sure he was still there, in case you needed him for some reason. You could tell, even in the darkness, he was a bit hesitant about following you. 

“Where’re we goin’?” Joel asked for the fifth time as you passed the cemetery, each time he asked his tone became less and less patient. Regardless of his tone, the sound of his voice sent a calming effect to run its course through your body, settling your churning insides. 

“You don’t like surprises huh?” A faint smile formed as the breathy words came out of your mouth. It amused you to see him like this; fidgety like he had ants in his pants.

“No, not–” His voice conveyed to you that he was very clearly annoyed. You let out an overdramatic sigh which immediately shut him up. 

“You’re no fun,” You turned your body to look at him, narrowing your eyes at him as you stopped walking. He only stopped when there was about a foot separating the two of you. 

“Fun enough for you to spend your nights with me ‘parently,” he spat back almost immediately, a bit of humor and amusement lingering in his tone. As much as you wanted to fire back at him, you ignored his comment and started to slowly continue down the field. You could almost make out the details of the trees even in the darkness, meaning you were almost there. 

“Remember how I told you I would hang out with Nessa and her friends?” he nodded, falling into step right next to you. You paused before continuing, “I’m taking you to where we used to go.”

“And if they’re there?” The words rushed out of his mouth. The thought made a sense of anxiety fill your chest. 

“I think Drew and James are gone, but if the other three are there, then… we’ll find somewhere else to go.” You tried to steady your voice as you spoke. The thought of them seeing the two of you together, especially seeing you and Joel go to a place that’s so… secluded, did not settle well in your gut. 

When Joel didn’t answer, you looked up at his face. His lips were set in a thin, tight line and his eyes were hardened, locked on the gravel crunching beneath his boots with each heavy step. You pinned your eyebrows together, is he anxious? Anxious that they will be there, that they’ll see us, or anxious that it will just be us? 

You took one step to the side closer to him and gently knocked your elbow against Joel’s arm, catching his attention. His eyes widened as if he had been lost in some sort of mind-consuming thought.

“Okay?” You asked, desperate for some sort of reassurance that he was okay and this was okay.

He gave you a single nod, his body remaining tense. 

–

The lights weren’t on when you arrived at the crumbling building, a shadow of blackness surrounded it. Regardless of the fact, you still slowly peeked your head inside to make sure no one had been in there before trying the switch to illuminate the dark room. Even though they didn’t come on, you still flipped the switch a few more times, desperately hoping you wouldn’t have to go in blind. The building was relatively safe, but the dark still gave you the chills–the thought of something hiding, waiting to grab you– the fear still haunted you. 

You let out a loud sigh.

“The generator is a bit finicky,” you said plainly. The many memories of Drew kicking at it and cursing under his breath immediately resurfaced.

“Sure it’s safe?” he asked as he poked his head past the threshold of the door. Joel gently grabbed onto your bicep as he continued to survey the vast darkness of the building. His concern provoked a small breathy laugh from you. 

“Let’s hope,” you responded, half serious. Joel let out a throaty hum, not coming off as too enthusiastic. 

Joel followed closely behind you as you entered. 

–

You finally managed to get the generator that James somehow managed to get many moons ago to turn on and went around to the various outlets to plug in the string lights. Joel slowly walked around the perimeter of the room with his hands clasped behind his back, running his eyes along the walls filled with posters and pictures the gang had once put up, looking at the furniture all of you managed to take from the donation center somehow unnoticed or from the few homes that remained unoccupied. Though you were never on the best terms with most of them, a lot of memories had been created in this very room–times of peace and ease. Showing him this place must have felt almost as vulnerable as it must have felt for him showing you his spot. An ache began to develop deep in your chest. You let out a deep sigh, letting the ache escape into the air.

His eyes lingered for a good while on a section of the wall that had been solely dedicated to the Polaroid pictures that had been taken on the nights spent here. Bringing his fingers up to one that was stuck at an angle beneath another picture, he pulled it loose. From your quick glance across the room, you didn’t have to be next to him to know that it was the picture of you and James. 

James had both of his hands covering your eyes, a wide grin spread across his face. You had your hands wrapped around his wrists, your knuckles white as you tried to tear them away from your face. The longer you thought about it, you could have sworn you could hear yours and James’ overlapping giggles, Nessa yelling out ‘cheese’ before pressing down the shutter button. The ache formed once again, this time spreading from your chest to the pit of your stomach.

Without saying anything, barely provoking any sort of reaction from him, Joel turned and set it down on one of the side tables. As the picture left the tips of his fingers, his attention was immediately shifted elsewhere. Joel picked up one of the records from the stack piled on one of the small side tables, taking a seat on the worn and faded brown couch.

The distraction allowed you to swiftly sweep past the table, picking up the photo and slipping it into your back pocket to be discarded eventually. 

You came up to Joel’s side. Using the back of the wooden chair next to him to keep you stable, you bent over the side of the couch to the corner where the last string of light’s plug hung free from the outlet. The heat of his body clung to the back of your cold limbs and you leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. Joel cleared his throat awkwardly, the sound startling you and causing you to fumble the plug, making it fall behind the couch. 

‘Sorry,” your voice was muffled as you reached your hand into the darkness, feeling around for the plug. A heat began to burn in your cheeks, spreading down to your chest, as you realized why Joel cleared his throat. You practically pinned him against the edge of the couch with your ass in his face.

You began to move faster, your fingers becoming tangled with the cord as you pushed it firmly into the plug. A small wheeze came from him as you straightened yourself, retreating a step back. 

“Sorry,” The words were now barely above a whisper. You raised your eyebrows, widening your eyes at him as you try to remain as neutral as possible. His eyebrows twitched as he finally brought himself to look up at you. You could have sworn his eyes glazed over the entirety of your body before eventually meeting your eyes. 

“Where’d you get these?” His voice was tight, guilty sounding as he changed the subject.

“Drew gets them when he goes into the cities outside of Jackson,” you responded, taking one step closer towards Joel, peering around his arm in the narrow space at the record he had been holding onto. “Most of them aren’t very good, but he picks up what he can find– I suppose it’s better than nothing.” 

He nodded very subtly, pinning his brows together as he flipped the record over, looking at the songs listed on the backside.

“And the player?” He questioned further. Joel must have heard the hitch in your breath with the look he gave you in return to which you turned on your heel, heading toward the couch sitting opposite from where Joel was.

“It was James’ father’s at one point,” You responded dryly, slightly cringing as you remembered how serious James was the night he brought it, making sure everyone– especially Drew– knew if it broke, there would be serious consequences. Joel said nothing in response, just going back to sifting through the various records.

The vibe completely changed from the time you left the bar to now–an odd sense of intimacy lingered heavily in the room. You needed a drink, just one to shake off this sudden awareness. 

Your eyes swept the room, landing on the old dented filing cabinet tucked next to the door. It was where the group kept all the alcohol each of you had been able to scrounge up as well as the collection of unmatching glasses that sat upon a tea cloth on the top. The filing cabinet was simply for safekeeping, you were desperately hoping that it hadn’t been emptied since the last time you were there. 

The broken handle was cold on your fingertips as you pulled on it. The drawer did not budge and you rolled your eyes, fully taking a seat on the ground so the top drawer was now eye level. You curse softly under your breath. Of course one of them would keep it locked up– probably Drew… greedy bastard, you thought.

You never noticed anyone locking it before, but then again, you had never paid that close attention–you didn’t need to. Running your fingers over the metal latches and then over the face of the lock, you pinned your eyebrows together. You’ve worked with this kind of lock many times before when you were still out on your own. They weren’t complicated locks, low security if anything due to them having a universal one-pronged key amongst this type.

Without any further thought, you pulled the small knife out of your pocket and flipped it open, ramming the tip into the keyhole. If you could just get it at the correct angle, it should just pop open. You didn’t care if the others knew someone had been in here. 

With a bit of jiggling, the shackle popped loose causing the corners of your lips to twitch slightly into a smile. Your eyes went wide as you opened the drawer–there was just as much, if not more than the last time you saw it. 

Rising back onto your feet, you look over your shoulder back at Joel who was still fully occupied by the record collection. His face was stuck in a deep sense of concentration.

Picking a bottle at random, you turned to face Joel shaking the bottle. The sound of the liquid sloshing against the sides and lapping over itself seemed to catch his attention as he snapped his head up, looking in your direction through his brows. 

“Want some?” you offered when he didn’t say anything, jutting the bottle out toward him. He narrowed his eyes, trying to look at the label– contemplating– before shaking his head and returning his attention back to the records. You simply shrugged before turning back around, flipping over one of the various drinking glasses on the top of the cabinet, and began to pour a generous amount. 

You kicked your feet at the concrete ground, dust and dirt dancing through the air, as you slowly made your way over to the other couch that sat across from the one Joel was currently settled on. Laying the entire length of your body sideways on the couch and resting your head on the padded armrest, you closed your eyes– just for a moment, you told yourself– holding your drink on your stomach with one hand and the other playing with the edge of one of the cushions where the stuffing began to leak out. 

When you opened your eyes, Joel was leaning over, placing one of the many records onto the platter of the player. Gently he let the needle fall onto the edge and pressed the button to turn it on. Music softly filled the room, the sound emitting from the speakers sounded muffled and scratchy, yet comforting and nostalgic. 

As Joel returned to his spot, leaning into the back cushion and widening his grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, you caught his attention. Holding his gaze, you sat upright, downing the rest of your drink and resting the glass on the ground. 

“What?” He asked as you flashed him a toothy smile, your lips spreading thinly across your face as the corners reached your eyes and the second wave of alcohol hit your bloodstream.

–

The music began to flow through your veins, your body swaying without any coherent thought running through your mind. Spreading your arms out at your sides, you began to spin slowly and your body began to feel weightless; your surroundings and Joel blurring together with each turn. The air running over your skin made goosebumps dance up your arms and you let out a small giggle. You felt so free… so loose… so… happy. You felt like the person you had once been a long, long time ago.

Slowing your spin to a stop, you quickly became dizzy as you came to your senses, your brain struggling to comprehend that you were no longer going in circles. With the alcohol in your system, it made your body’s reaction twice as clumsy. Joel was watching you carefully, a small smile on his face, and appeared to be very amused by you. You began to tumble to the side, the opposite direction of any sort of furniture to stabilize yourself, as your feet tangled together. Joel lunged from his sitting position for you, looping one hand around your back, the other grasping onto your bicep.

“Woah,” The noise came out of you in a breathy whisper as the falling sensation subsided. Joel’s eyes were soft in the dim lighting of the room, the light reflecting off of his dark and ever-tired eyes. 

As he helped you back up to the stability of your feet, he kept hold of your shoulders. You could feel his fingers gently but firmly pressing into your skin making your heart skip a few beats. Through your still semi-blurred vision, you make eye contact with Joel, who is steadily holding onto your gaze. His face, complex as usual, leaves you completely in the dark about what might be running through his mind. The look in his eyes took you back to that night. 

You softly ran your hands up along his arm until you reached his biceps, hesitating to curl your fingers around them. Dropping your gaze from his, you run your fingers along his worn flannel, the fabric is soft under the tips. All you can focus on at the moment is the feeling of the fabric between your fingers and the warmth that radiates from underneath. Joel has yet to move a muscle since you returned his gesture, though you were almost positive you could hear the beating of his heart– deep and wild.

Slowly moving your eyes along his chest to the skin peaking out where the top few buttons were undone–his chest hair poking through– up along his neck and into his eyes. Something changed from a few moments prior, from early this evening. Your breath hitches as his throat bobs and his tongue darts between his lips.

As you began to part your lips, trying to find any words to say, Joel very slowly ran one of his hands up your back, finding a home at the base of your neck where skin meets hair. Very softly he ran his thumb over your hairline, over and over. He was looking at you, but it felt like his gaze had been deeper– deeper than whatever he saw on the surface. 

“I haven’t heard this song in a very long time,” His voice was quiet but hoarse, rattling low. You had to force yourself to swallow, your mouth and throat growing drier by the second.

Before you could muster up a response– even a reaction– Joel gently pulled your head into his chest. You didn’t protest, you would let him do whatever he wanted to you at this moment. His hand lingered at the base of your neck with your ear flush against his chest. Still, he softly ran his finger along your hairline causing a chill to make its way down your spine. Your heart felt as if it were beating outside of your chest and you noticed how deeply and fast Joel’s was beating in unison.

Joel took the lead as the two of you began to sway your bodies in unison, simply shifting your weight between each foot, very slowly turning in a circle. With your arms loosely wrapped around his torso, you began to run the fabric between your index finger and thumb again. This is the moment you’ve been craving since you were left on your own at the beginning of the outbreak– a sense of safety, a sense of companionship, anything other than the loneliness that rotted inside your heart for far too long– always too afraid to admit it, too afraid to get close to anyone for the next day is never promised. Sure, you caved into the intimacy of physical touch, but emotionally… you’ve never let yourself cave into that. But Joel… Joel was different. This was different. 

The longer the music went on, transitioning from one song to another, a calmness settled between the two of you, your bodies melting into one another becoming one. You hadn’t dared to move your head, afraid that he’d let go of you entirely if you moved even just a bit; afraid that this moment would end sooner than you desired.

As the record player sputtered to a stop, the music abruptly leaving the room empty and silent, you and Joel remained together, swaying back and forth. Joel’s heartbeat returned to a steady, comforting beat. He flattened his palms against your back as a way to tell you, don’t let go– not yet. So you didn't, you would remain in his arms until he was ready to let go. 

Without creating any distance between your bodies, you shift your head to look up at him, your chin firmly pressed against the bare part of his chest. He angled his head just right so he could look down at you. For a moment all you and Joel could do is stare at each other, as if the two of you haven’t stolen enough glances in the time you’ve known each other. Joel’s bottom lip was full of color and slightly swollen as if he had been chewing on it. You blinked a few times to bring yourself to the present moment.

“I missed you,” The words flowed out of you before you could think of what the consequences of admitting that would be. In the moment it felt right, you felt safe enough to admit that to him and you wanted him to know.

His face was set in stone, but a glimmer of something appeared in his eye and his shoulders appeared to relax as he slowly exhaled. It seemed like he didn't know what to say back. You didn’t care if he felt the same way if he missed you or even cared for you the way you do for him. All that mattered was that he knew someone had missed him, that his absence here mattered to you.

“You’re the only person who makes me feel sane,” You followed up in a whisper, returning the side of your face to his chest and tightening your arms around him. His heart rate picked up once again– deep and wild. 

read chapter sixteen here!

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

[hainethehero]

Just to follow up on the last ask about forgiving - right off the bat, you had an excellent point. I don't want to distract from that. Actually quite a few points. Were people sending death threats for real?!?! Anyway, one thing that's been bothering me. Is the real world views that people are enforcing. Along with this 'rule' that a character has to be redeemed/good in order to like. Like, why should I have to 'forgive' or have some stranger on the internet tell me 'they forgive' a character in order to like them. And why does the character have to have changed? I don't want to go on a tangent, but gosh if Tommy was still pulling the 'I'm a straight cis white guy card' to fly under the radar and told Buck to do it, and Buck did. That would make for interesting TV as Buck realized what he was doing was wrong/ hurting his friends and then his, Hen and Chim and Eddie could really bond/bring forward a compelling racism story line. Like, we could see that, and it wouldn't have to be a bad thing! AND! AND! Imagine how that would help the buck/tommy ship. Tommy's new boyfriend helping him to come out, not just when it's easy. Everyone wins!

But if we even saw a hint of one of Buck's LI's being anything but good and pure. And I'm picking on Buck here I know, this happens in a lot of other cases. But as we are seeing with Tommy in real time. Then we have to hate them.

I have no problem liking a villainous character that stays bad. And maybe that's why it seems odd to me that people say, 'oh they've done bad things, you can't like them.' Cause then I can't love my bad guys from say the comics! Or some of the heroes from the comics, either! But that's not exactly the problem I keep circling here and getting distracted from making this ask about - I'm rambling even when typing oie.

I think the real, main thing that I've been getting annoyed with, is the use of real world views to make people in fandom fall in line. Ignoring the real world and real people for a moment. Why does a POC person have to forgive Tommy, a not real person, in order for everyone to be allowed to like the character? We're each a monolithic group of separate minorities with one voice. There's no collective that can condemn or atone a person officially.

On the flip side, I know not everyone takes in media the same way. So my view of liking a character if I find them entertaining, even if they're a bad guy. Won't be the same for everyone. So a person who has dealt with some form of discrimination totally could see a character who does that form of discrimination and hate them for it. They could see the in-depth arch of 'redemption' or the throwaway line saying the character has changed. And for personal reasons choose to still not like the character. Or the character could still be flawed (art imitates life after all and no one is perfect) and they could still not 'forgive' or like the character.

But why does that mean everyone else needs to seek permission to do it? To say 'oh this character did bad things, but I can look past it, they've changed' or god forbid 'this is a character with flaws or is just bad' and still like the character.

It's also funny cause in Tommy's case, I don't really remember the begins episodes. Someone keeps brining up a guy named Sal to ship Eddie with now. And I'm like, who now? But anyway. I don't even remember Tommy from those episodes and a lot of other people who just tune in to watch week to week and all the new people who just started this season. Were probably like me and didn't realize Tommy was around before! Which doesn't really matter, I'm just now wondering how to clue up this ask.

So glad I can do this anonymously and not reveal to the world how awkward I can be when trying to communicate via the written word.

This was a bit confusing but I'll try my best.

First, yes, people were sending death threats both to Lou and Tim.

NO ONE is saying we can only forgive a character who did questionable things if POCs forgive them. I am stating that if POC have the right to dislike/have reservations about characters who showed racist behaviour in the past despite having redeemable qualities. No one has the right to police pocs about their feelings towards a character like that.

The initial point however, is that a large part of the fandom sees Tommy as the show meant to portray him- a flawed character who eventually reconciled his relationship with Hen and Chim. Tommy isn't a villain. He's literally a flawed character who was given a redemption montage in order to show how different the 118 was under Gerrard's racist and oppressive leadership versus Bobby's.

If anyone's a villain, it's Jonah. It's Gerrard. It's people with actual distorted complexes who just wanted to hurt people because they could.

And while Tommy's behaviour under Gerrard was bad and cannot be excused, it can and was explained by the show, that it was because of the environment fostered by the bigot Captain Gerrard. A layer of nuance is added when we find out in s7 that Tommy was actually very closeted in the 118 BECAUSE of Gerrard, hence the reason why he joined in on the questionable behaviour. Once Chimney saved him (and also humbled him) and Hen eviscerated them rightfully with her monologue speaking out against their racism, the power dynamic began to change. Gerrard was booted out and Tommy, Hen and Chimney became close friends, as evidenced by the farewell party they had for him, and the fact that they frequented that bar to hang out after work.

[min-kit]

The whole “Buddie buildup for seasons!” thing is so funny to me as someone who’s been watching from the start. The very moment Eddie appeared in the first ep of season 2 and talked to Buck (which was pretty charged and slightly negative) people started shipping them and demanding for them to get together based on chemistry alone, with no build up or backstory. It obviously continued as the show went on and more moments happened but as someone who shipped them back then they actually made MORE sense when the ship and chemistry was fresh imo, in seasons 2 and 3, and no one debated it as then. Now that Tommy appeared now suddenly it’s all “3939 seasons of buildup!”. Especially weird when there were some seasons where there was negative buildup for Buddie. Again, I used to ship them so it’s not like I’m against the idea but saying Buddie makes more sense than BuckTommy only because of madeup is BS.

warning: this is long!!

I actually came into the show with buddie goggles on. I think my first episode live was 4x4? It was either Future Tense or the episode RIGHT after Future Tense, idr which but I had a mutual or someone I followed on twitter who was really into the show & would share ppl's edits. Now I knew they weren't canon & even then I didn't need them to be (i like a good "queerbait" as the kids call it, tho i have arguments for what actually constitutes queerbait. I simply call it "shippable"). But as someone who went in knowing about their ship, I looked at EVERYTHING with those goggles on. So yeah I shipped them hardcore for those seasons. Then s6 happened and I packed my bags on that ship to ever actually happen in canon and resolved to watch the show a bit more casually season 7 onwards (and I would've done too had I not heard the rumors about bi Buck!! haha)

But I did start rewatching the series through the reactions of someone who did not have those goggles on a few months ago and it really shed some light on certain things. All that is to say, I do agree with you. If it was something that was ever gonna be done, during s2 & 3 makes the most sense. I think ppl forget that fanon is not the same as canon & things that work in fanfiction do not work in the actual canon world of the show. Now that Buck is bisexual, I do fully believe & adopt the headcanon that he had feelings for Eddie early on & just didn't realize it, but they developed fully into friendship.

I don't think they're going to make Eddie canonically queer too. I just don't. I'm not sure why I ever thought they might give both coming out stories (maybe it's because I watch a lot of Asian BL). Unfortunately, that is just not how network television works in America. The fact they made Buck queer 7 seasons in is already HUGE. I'm not gonna hang my hopes on what's probably an impossibility when I have this beautiful canon queer storyline happening on my screen already & I genuinely like Tommy & think he's the perfect LI for Buck.

I think here is what people need to realize too. Once again fanon =/= canon. There are no so many years of build-up. Unless and until they make buddie canon, those years of build-up do not exist because, currently, they're not trying to build anything up. Tim has said they aren't currently planning it, Ryan again and again has said how much Buck & Eddie's friendship means to him to see on television because you don't see male friendships portrayed that way (and you don't! especially not friendships between 2 "macho" men both in their 30s, 1 of whom is canonically queer. This too is an important storyline to tell).

People watch this show with buddie goggles feeling like they're owed these 2 to get together but that just isn't the case. Tim will tell the story he wants to tell & ppl viewing are signing up to watch THAT show. If you don't like that show, stick to fanon because that's something you can control.

And, one day, if they do decide to go in that direction (and I'm firmly in the camp they're not going to & if they do it's gonna be in the final season, but I truly think ABC wants 911 to be another Grey's Anatomy; something that can go on for 20 seasons so who even knows if these actors will want to stick around that long) it's not going to be the story of Buck & Eddie realizing they've had feelings for each other all this time. They won't be able to convince the GA of that. It'll be them falling in love for the first time on screen. But first they need to convince the GA that Eddie is whatever brand of queer they decide on (it's not going to be gay, I will say that right now. As much as I understand why people headcanon him as such & even agreed for a long time, that is not the reality within the show's canon. The show is not trying to lie to people about Eddie enjoying sex with women, they would make it more obvious for the people who don't sit online analyzing if that were the case. Personally I've started reading Eddie as aromantic but I know most ppl here would never be cool with that since it puts a damper on buddie too).

If people want to continue living in a delusional world where these things will for sure happen, then that's on them and is their right. Have fun with it! Fandom belongs to the fans. You can do anything here. But to get upset and angry because other fans might not agree, or the people in charge of the show don't go the direction you want? Well that's just silly. We are viewers (& also writers can NOT use the things fans say. They could get in serious trouble for that). You can be active in a fandom space, but at the end of the day, being a viewer is a passive job. The writers write the show, then they film it and put it out to the world & a viewer views it & enjoys the art that these hundreds upon thousands of people created.

And, also, there's a lot more passive viewers than there are active members of fandom. And people forget that. If every single hardcore shipper stopped watching right now, the views would hardly dip. They won't lose anything just because they decide not to make fandom's favorite ship canon.

[decks-writing-blog]

Here to Stay Drabbles: We're Cool

Summary: Or talking to Dr.Coomer about his file.

~

With Black Mesa’s personnel numbers being so far reduced and the lab being small compared to the old one, there were lots of opportunities to talk to Dr. Coomer. Finding one in which it was just the two of them was a bit harder but not by much. It made it rather difficult to find excuses to continue to put off talking to him. Gordon did so for as long as he could but well, if he continued for too much longer he’d basically have to commit to carrying the secret of his transgression to his grave. Not something he wanted weighing on his conscious for that long.

And so the time finally came when it was just the two of them in their corner of the lab because both Tommy and Darnold liked to go home at the same time every day while the two of them sometimes stayed a bit longer, often to finish what they were doing. Organizing and sorting stuff as it was brought in from the old facility was still their main responsibility. Staying on top of it sometimes meant one or both of them had to stay an hour or two longer, no big deal. They weren’t overworking, it was fine. Especially since it gave Gordon this perfect opportunity to go over to Dr. Coomer’s desk, and come clean.

It really wasn’t that big a deal. None of the clone files had contained much of Dr. Coomer’s personal information. Or maybe ‘none’ was a bit of an exaggeration, ‘only a few’ was a better description. But still, Gordon had skimmed through those parts. So it was fine. And if it really was fine then maybe he didn’t need to… No. He wasn’t putting this off again. Even if Dr. Coomer wouldn’t care he felt bad about it and thus he should tell if for no other reason than to get it off his chest.

With a sigh he stood and walked over to Dr. Coomer desk.

Dr. Coomer looked up at him and smiled. “Hello Gordon!”

“Hello Dr. Coomer.”

He pushed his keyboard up, allowing him to fold his hands on the desk in front of himself as he looked up at Gordon. Waiting for him to speak because it was that obvious Gordon had something to say. Why else would he come over here? Meaning there was no more getting out of this. Probably for the best.

Well best to just put it out there and be done with it, right? Let Dr. Coomer be mad if he needed/wanted to be. “I came across the files about you and your clones and read through them. I skimmed through parts of it when more sensitive information was brought up but I did go through all of it. Also, this wasn’t just now it was back before we went back to the old facility to get Benrey’s files. And um, I think it’s what made me decide I wanted to peek at at his files because I thought it was fine that I looked at yours so maybe it would be fine if I looked at his too. Which is obviously not true in either case, both are bad without permission. So uh… sorry. I fucked up.”

Dr. Coomer’s expression didn’t change throughout Gordon’s entire spiel. “That would explain why and how those files mysteriously appeared on my work computer the other day.”

“Uh… yeah, that was me. I figured you should have them since they’re yours.”

“Thank you for coming clean with me Gordon. That a sign of growth and maturity. And that you care about me enough as a person to risk me being mad at you for having invaded my privacy to let me know you did that. I appreciate it.”

“Does that mean you are mad at me or… what?” It was hard to tell with him sometimes.

“Hmm… no, I forgive you. After all if you can forgive me for my clones trying and almost succeeding to kill you, I can forgive this minor indiscretion.”

“Gosh, don’t remind me of that, please.” Gordon barely remembered any of it other than that it had happened. Probably a trauma thing so best not poked at. “But that means we’re uh… cool?” That it really was fine? Not fine that Gordon had done it but that he’d realized it was wrong, apologized, and was forgiven so they could both move on from it.

“Yes, we’re cool. Don’t do it again though.”

“I won’t.” Gordon had more than learned his lesson in that realm. No more being overly nosy about his friends. He’d indulge his curiosity about strictly non-person related things from here on out. It was easier for everyone that way. “Thanks for the second chance.”

“You’re welcome! Now back to work Gordon! There’s much still left to do. … Or maybe not much, only a few more things to wrap up and then we can go home.” Said as if Gordon wasn’t the one in charge. But that was fine, he wasn’t wrong and it’s not like it was the first time he’d told Gordon what to do.