#but you gotta keep going like all the other times you managed to get better and keep pushing through because it does get better with time

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hey i see your request are open so could i ask for any characters of your choice with a s/o that has a strong battle lust like no matter the situation they if they see something or someone they think is strong or scary enough they just go “lets kill it” anyway thank you for making content its people like you who get me through the day don’t feel obligated to write this if you don’t want to love your stuff keep it up!

Them with a reader that wants to fight everything

characters: Eula / Keqing / Clorinde x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I gotta recover those character banners I used back in the day...

Anyway, thanks for the request and the kind words, they mean a lot and I hope you enjoy!

Eula

Eula has had to work with more people than she could recall over the years, some of them more tolerable than others, whether it was due to their personalities or work ethic. And yet you still managed to rank amongst the most exhausting companions she ever had to work besides.

It wasn’t your personality – she could count the times you got into any kind of conflicts with your squadmates on one hand – nor was there any kind of definition she could use to call your work ethic lacking. If anything… it was the complete opposite.

Having to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed after charging headfirst into battle was tedious enough, and yet it weren’t just Lavachurls and other kinds of monstrous beasts that regularly drew your lust for battle.

“Please, Eula. Just one Punch!” You begged like a little child that was told their parents wouldn’t buy that one toy that they had set their minds on for them, trying your damnedest to wiggle out of her grip. And yet to no avail, as shoulders remained in her tight grip.

If she didn’t know better, Eula would think you were the one that had spent their evening drinking their frustrations away, and not her. If it were anyone other than you, she’d at least try to tell you to calm down, that strangers judging her for her heritage was nothing new for her, and yet considering it was you, she doubted it would have made any difference whether the tall big guy in front of you hadn’t insulted her or not.

Sure, you seemed agitated enough while listening to him talk, but it had only been after he challenged you to a fight that you had tried jumping at him with the excitement of a dog chasing his favourite toy.

Not that you ever got the chance to strike, having your arms used to pull you back the same way one would use the leash on a dog the moment before your feet took off. Nor did you have to punch anyone, as your lack of even a sliver of hesitation and lust for battle alone did enough to drive anyone stupid enough to challenge you away.

“No! We can go search for hilichurl camps tomorrow, sit down!”

Eula didn’t even expect that to work. And yet the moment those words left her mouth you were sitting on the bench as if nothing had ever happened.

Keqing

“What do you have to say for yourself?” The Guardman’s voice echoed out, staring accusatory daggers into you as he tried to catch his breath from having to run all the way here, the footsteps of his companions trailing not far behind him as you immediately raised your arms in a show of peace.

“They tried to hurt each other”, you gestured to the several bandits lying around the grassfield, none of them showing any signs of consciousness, although each of them were still clearly alive.

“But, I’m a peaceful person, I don't do things like that.” As those words flew past your lips, Keqing’s eyes locked with the guard’s.

The two of you had been on a small errand, when a group of treasure hoarders had ambushed you just outside the city’s view, each of them large in stature and looking threatening in their own right, before demanding your goods and mora.

Not wanting to use unnecessary violence, Keqing had just started to try and resolve the conflict with words when you had suddenly kicked one of them with enough force to have him roll down the hill, letting out a war cry best described as ‘unhinged’ before literally picking up the smallest of them and throwing him as if competing in a sport.

By the time the Yuheng stopped blinking at you in utter surprise and sprang into action, all of the bandits had either been knocked out cold or were running for the mountains.

It was… an experience.

“Everything I did, I did in self defense.” You added in a tone that almost made it seem you were sad you had to resort to violence in the first place. 

…She doubted you were. There weren’t all too many pacifists she knew that had a war cry ready at a moment's notice.

“Miss Keqing, you’ve seen the scene play out, I presume? Is it the truth?” The Guard asked her now, the Yuheng’s eyes widening in surprise for a brief moment as she hesitated to answer for a moment before doing so with confidence.

“Considering they did ambush us, I would call it self defense as well.”

Just like that, the two of you were free to go. But while you no longer had anything to explain to the Guards, that didn’t mean you weren’t going to have a discussion about this.

Clorinde

There weren’t many people that would willingly challenge Clorinde to a fight, most of her potential opponents fled or decided to get sentenced instead of duelling her. Not that she could blame them. The number of human fighters in Fontaine that could stand their ground against her could be counted on one hand.

And then… there were you. Always challenging her to fights whenever you could, only to get rejected each and every time. 

Work and private life didn’t mix for Clorinde. You were part of her private life, while duelling was work. She was more than happy enough to have you join her and the others playing games or to indulge you in your hobbies, but duelling? That was out of the question.

Not like her rejections impacted your determination in any way though. You’d still continue asking.

Today was a day to celebrate. Not for Clorinde’s sake, the woman only begrudgingly let you and Navia celebrate her birthday after all, but for yours. Celebrating other peoples’ birthdays or achievements was something entirely different, especially if it were those of people close to her. And yet considering what had led you here in the first place, Clorinde found it difficult to decide whether to congratulate or chide you.

“Congratulations on your promotion. Navia baked some macrons for you when she heard the news”, The woman with a small box of the sweets in her hand, only to pull it away just in time to dodge the hand of yours that reached out to grab it.

“Playing with a wounded officer’s feelings? You’re too cruel, Clorinde”, you pretended to be disappointed in her, only to quickly smile at her, using the momentary distraction to try grabbing the sweets once again.

“And how exactly were you wounded?” She asked in her usual stoic voice as she dodged your hand once again, already knowing the answer to her question.

“By valiantly trying to protect a member of the community.” You declared before trying to strike a pose, only to hiss in pain as you moved your injured arm.

Considering you did manage to help catch a wanted criminal, Clorinde decided not to add insult to injury, leaving out her comment about how she seriously doubted it was the potential victim that caused you to lunch at the criminal and not just the thrill of the fight, letting out a small sigh before placing Navia’s gift in front of you, only to watch you inhale them within moments.

“Clorinde, let's have a duel tomorrow”, you stated in between your bites, only for your movements to come to a grinding halt the moment you heard a dry chuckle escape her lips.

“I’m not going to duel an injured person.”

Almost immediately, Clorinde wished she had phrased that statement differently, as your eyes lit up with almost childlike excitement.

“So you’re alright with duelling me once I’ve recovered?!”

[multiheadcanons]

DON’T LOOK DOWN, MICK!

“mick, you’ve got it. i promise.”

“dad, i’m scared.”

“mick, it’s a tree. just don’t look—”

“snipes!” mick took a deep breath in, eyes shooting open. the world was blurry, and the first thing he registered is that his glasses were broken. that’s okay, that’s not bad. he can’t see very well. that’s a little bit of a bigger problem, considering his job. who was calling him? “snipes! you with me?”

he managed out a noise. blinked a few times. started to focus. he saw the scout. it seemed quiet otherwise, around him. that doesn’t seem quite right. he thought he was out of position.

“snipes, we gotta get you to the doc, man—”

“nah, nah… nah, i’m okay—”

“snipes, your leg is gone!” mick knows that the bostonian did not just say what he just said. “we need to get you to the doc, now! you’re easy pickings out here, man! grab my hand.”

still reeling from the idea that what scout just said may or may not be true, he reached out. and as scout pulled him to his foot; his eyes slipped shut.

“i just don’t think i can do it, dad! i don’t want to try to find out!”

“mick. there comes a time where everyone’s gotta do something they don’t want to do. this is probably gonna be the easiest thing you don’t want to do. just take a deep breath, and don’t look down, right? give it a go.”

“come back to me snipes! just look ahead, alright? lemme know if someone’s coming.” he sputtered a gasp out. the sounds of battle were closer. what the fuck was this kid doing?

“scout— scout? right?” me muttered out.

“yeah, man, what’s up?”

“put me down and let me die.”

“outta the question. look sharp!”

pain shot up his body with the first step, and his vision whited out as his head slumped forward.

“mick. mick look at me.”

“you told me to not look down!”

“i know, i know, just give me a quick glance down here. so you know i’m gonna catch you if you fall.”

“i know you’re gonna catch me, dad!”

“but do you trust it?”

“snipes, pick your god damn head up and move that leg. doc! doc!” another, weaker, shallower breath entered and exited his lungs as he blinked himself into reality. and as his eyes focused on the floor, he realized that the scout was not lying to him.

a leg was gone.

shit.

he couldn’t stop the burn of the vomit in time as it surged in his throat, nor could he stop the momentary swell of panic as he emptied the contents of his stomach. all over his own bloodied shirt, on the bostonian’s shirt, in the dust. scout didn’t seem to notice, and if he did he didn’t seem to mind.

“stop! stop, put me down, i don’t wanna do it anymore.” the words left him before he thought about them. but his body did not stop moving.

“we’re not stopping, snipes. we keep going until we die.”

“please let me die, scout. i’m not worth this.”

“anyone alive is worth the life they live man. let’s get you to the doc, he’ll patch you up, it’ll be okay. alright?” they turned and looked at each other. faces etched in blood and kicked up dust.

and mick nodded. and they continued to move.

it felt like hours before they got to the front lines, seeing the doctor crouched behind cover as he shielded his face from the blasts occurring around him.

“doc! need some help over here!” the scout called out, pulling the sniper back from the verge of the void he’s been teetering on.

“i’m not moving—!” he shielded his body from a wayward rocket. “bring your asses here! and— jesus, sniper, we thought you were dead! your leg!”

“he’s not dead; we freakin’ abandoned him, like a bunch of assholes! now do your damn magic and make him better!” they hobbled on three legs towards the medic, taking shelter behind the cover as the doctor peeked the corner and turned back to the two.

“you didn’t even tourniquet the wound.”

“we had to move, doc, he was on the edge of the map. next time, you go find his ass!”

“oh, you’re so right scout! next time, i’ll abandon my team as we’re actively losing, in case you forgot, and go searching for the man who had maybe ten minutes left and cut that time in half with poor on-field care so the rest of the team can die. is that what you want?”

“stop being a fucking smart ass and fix the guy, doc!”

“you just piss me off sometimes… honestly, i never know what to— incoming!”

the blast of a rocket shook the ground they sat on as they did their best to cover their heads and the body of the major trauma case before them, and the doctor peeked the corner again. he didn’t say anything as he turned back to the two men, eyes wide and face set in what can only be described as horrified rage.

“scout? can i ask something of you?”

“yeah doc, what’s up?”

“next time… you let him die.”

neither scout, nor the sniper were able to ask what he meant by that as the enemy team advanced. they just watched the doctor’s body be ripped to shreds as a familiar, yet unfriendly sascha rounded the corner, already shooting by the time the barrel of the gun was pressed against the medic’s back.

and scout couldn’t move them all in time.

and though sniper knew he was missing a leg, he felt the ghost of it slip off of the tree.

and he felt a set of arms catch him before he hit the ground.

“aw, well— kudos for trying, mick. it’s not the easiest tree to climb within the mile.”

“i knew i wasn’t gonna make it! i knew i wasn’t gonna make it and you made me do it anyway! this is stupid! i’m done!”

“you’re not done.”

“no, dad, i’m done! i’m not doing it again!”

“but you’re not done. lots of guys out there, right? guys who need killing?”

“what are you— what?”

“get back up mick. give it another go. don’t look down this time.”

and his eyes opened to the respawn room. standing in there was the doctor, and the scout. staring at each other, engaged in a somewhat silent argument. but he wasn’t bothered with that right now.

he looked down.

two legs. whole. full.

he kicked them both a little. functional. rotated his feet. flexed them, relaxed them. bent it at the knee. fully functional, it seems.

they stood in the respawn room. he finally decided to listen in on their conversation. it didn’t seem to have gotten more heated, but they definitely didn’t look to have come to an agreement.

“the entire situation just could’ve been avoided, scout.”

“i’m not gonna leave a teammate that’s still breathing. i don’t care how many times it gets us killed. if i move, everyone fucking else moves too. and if you want me to leave you for dead, fine. you don’t make that choice for everyone else though.”

“…whatever.”

the doctor’s face was set. aggravated, annoyed, almost amused, and resigned to the bostonian’s will as he ensured his grip on his medigun was tight, and secured to his back.

“scout. before you go.” the australian started. it felt odd to have full vocal range again. it felt more odd to hear everything around him occurring. the faint sounds of battle, the death screams echoing through the buildings, and the scout’s much closer irritated groan.

“what, man.”

“what you did. it was… noble. it was a noble thing to do. and… i respect it. didn’t take you for the type.”

“it’s not noble, or whatever other goofy ass word you wanna put on it. it’s the right thing to do. now move your ass. follow me, doc, we’re going left.”

and they left the sniper alone in the respawn room. he sat for a moment. searching his mind for the voice of his father.

but it never came.

and he, unsure of what to do next, grabbed his rifle, and exited the respawn room, steeling himself for the rest of the round.

[uhohbestie]

omahgod haaaiiii! happy three pronged fork day!

it is I, the live slug reaction microsoft paint doodles guy, here with the long promised part two, and lord mercy its been like a month,,, i've spent the past week and a half adding just-one-more-last-bit-this-time-its-the-last-one-for-sure-definitely and thinking of a new one at work the very next day,, BUT i am out of the dungeon now so here you have it!!

here's to me spending solid two months of my life pacing to and fro at work compiling mental essays and Making Up Scenarios tm with your characters and generally rotating them,,,, twas an experience for certain and i thank you for every point of psychic damage i was dealt <3

i tried every know-how i could think of to improve the resolution situation, and ended up just cutting it into pieces so im sorry if its a bit confusing to read (it's hectic but it works so i can't complain)

big picture for to know where things are

tip: you do gotta read the big picture left side (they are vaguely divided by the grey lines) top to bottom and then the right side for it to be chronological (more or less)

and the small bits for better resolution

i already wrote most of the things i had to say in the picture itself, so all i'll say is my soul yearns for pearl and lizzie (and Tilly) adventures extravaganza spinoff ): i have somehow so far convinced myself while reading that we would for sure get to see them within the fic that i had to doublecheck that i didn't miss a chapter on accident,,, oopsie

ps. this is where i would put my essay on how you've managed not only to show a character going through the 'ol stages of grief (scar when grian got bit) but also make the reader (or me at least, idk im gullible) go through them. ever since i figured out that Main Characters Don't Die at some point as a kid, i have never once sweated about "damn what if the writers actually do it this time?? what of blorbo dead foreal forever???" ,,, that was until i read TAMN. you took your SWEET TIME keeping us on scar pov for so long i sincerely started worrying that you actually did it you bastards. "no.. they wouldn't… they can't!" i thought to myself, but then the chapters went on and on, and Scar and Pops managed to almost get themselves killed yet again, adventures not showing any signs of stopping. and the pesky bristling brit, with whom i have a complicated relationship not unlike the one between a Sportsteam that sucks ass and their last remaining, bitter, but loyal shit-talking fan, is nowhere to be seen. i was head in hands sitting on the edge of my bed waxing poetics about how The Narrative forces the reader through the character's thought process and Long Live Indie Writing for being able to afford to break tropes and expectations n all that and then Grian's disHEVELED ASS ROLLS OUTA BUSHES AND I WAS LIKE i kNEW THOSE SONS A BITCHES WERE SCHEEMING, NEVER TRUST A WRITER!!! ! …i'm fairly impressionable audience if you couldn't tell

,anyhow this was one of the several bits rotating in my head for the past while, i hope you're proud of what you've accomplished -_- (/j/lh you really really should be <3) yeah anyway this is where i would put my essay on all that if i knew how to write one!

(if i open my mouth on the topic of the residents of the hermit commune we would be here all day, so all i'll say is i won't announce my descent into madness, but there will be signs)

on that note, be good be good to each other and don't forget to brush your teeth before bed

pps. i missed my duolingo writing this :( just another one of gods little jokes

ppps. i think you should poll the public someday on the subject of people's perception of Joel's fate in the end, would be curious to see how optimistic (or not) the folks are feeling

YES. YES!!!!! PART TWO OMG YOU'VE SPOILED US. YESSSSSSS.

Oh my goodness there's so much to wade into there. I was starting to pick out my favourite parts but realised i was highlighting every drawing, but here are my FAVOURITE favourites:

I love love love hearing ppl's opinions on the Redwood compound (AND POPS!!!! POPS AND SCAR BEST FRIENDS FOREVER [until... they're abruptly not anymore. um. ummmmmm....]) Poor exhausted Ren. Poor munched up Joel. Poor every-day-I'm-more-tired-than-the-last Etho. (Also, clasping your hands in mine, I promise you we will write about Pearl and Lizzie. I promise we will not leave you hanging.)

I'm genuinely truly deeply so happy you enjoyed TAMN, and absolutely adored reading (and seeing!) your journey as you read it. Especially the parts where we convincingly pulled off Grian Death(tm). Thank you for sharing with us :') aaaaa TAMN <3 <3 <3

Your poll idea is genius btw. We gotta do this. We GOTTA. - 🔒

[bxsmxx]

i looove the fact oldies station comes right after snap back :((

going from "got a bad feeling that I'm about to break", "bite the hand that helps me, give it finger stitches", and "i have seemed to run out of excuses of why i am this way"

to "when darkness rolls on you, push on through", "in a season of lessons learned in giving up, you learn what you can and can't take", and "you have it down, that old fight for survival"

[sexilene]

boy nextdoor!jj is so hot hehe him choking me while he fucks me in a matting press AHHHH. want to see him smirking down at me through his floppy blonde hair wet with sweat as he puts his other hand over my mouth so my parents don’t wake up :3

ohmygoodness stop it right now. the way i smiled reading thisss pleaseeee!!! adding this to the kinktober list cuz why not!! #19 (ignore any spelling mistakes sorry lol!)

anotha little boynextdoor!jj x girlnextdoor!reader thought ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

when your boyfriend does manage to sneak in through the window by climbing on a tree…he usually spends the night. your parents go to sleep fairly early, like soon after dinner early, so that gives you and jj some alone time in the dark without worrying about one of your parents randomly entering your room to check on you. it's happened before and though jj is getting better at running to find a hiding spot, it's is not ideal.

your parents figure you like to fall asleep to the tv you have in your room watching your little movies, and that it’s the movies making the little sounds. while that is true on some nights, this time around both the tv, you and your boyfriend are making sounds.

“jay!” you squeal when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending down again to press his flushed hard cock deeper into you. “shhh, gotta be quiet, like a little mouse, quiet okay?” he shushes you, your little movie still on in the background, providing a decent amount of light to illuminate his features and yours.

“uh huh…okay” you nod, still a little dazed due to the past two orgasms he gave you by fingering you a little over 20 minutes ago. once he pushes into your puffy pulsing heat, he wraps a strong hand around your throat and starts to squeeze down, causing you to furrow your eyebrows and grip the hand on your neck. jj is practically trapping you there, underneath him getting incessantly plowed by his big dick.

“wanna hold my hand?” he offers you the hand that’s not on your neck, you mewl at his sweetness, he’s still trying to make you feel as loved and safe as possible even if he is fucking you like he hates you.

“mhmm!”

“here babydoll” he takes your hand in his, the sounds of skin slapping skin faintly bouncing off the walls, not wanting to risk waking the whole neighborhood up with the way he really wants to be pounding into you right now.

your lips are swollen from his kisses, drool threatening to escape the corners of your lips, tear stains on your cheeks glisten due to the lighting, your hair all messy, and still jj thinks you look like the prettiest little thing.

“y’look cute, c’mere” your boyfriend grunts, pulling you up by your neck for another kiss, “harder jayjay, please harder!” you whisper, needy as ever.

“i know babe,” jj chokes you harder and uses his other hand to rub your clit in fast circles, “g’nna cum again!” you squeal out.

“gonna wake up your parents, hold on,” he takes his hand off your neck and covers your mouth to keep you from making any more loud noises, as much as he loves to hear them….

“alright kittie cat no more screamin’ or im gonna have to press your face into the pillow,” he whispers in your ear.

“mph- nmm” your words muffled by his big hand,

“yeaaaah good girl, almost done baby, just keep takin’ it…” he bends your legs back further into a mating press and starts thrusting in again. the position causing his dick to go in deeper and hit the spots that make you melt. that combined with the way both your bodies all sticky with sweat and how he smells all salty and musky, makes you roll your eyes back and then squeeze them shut.

“h-ha…shit, y’so warm and wet holy fuck i love you so much.” jj grits through his teeth, bringing that hand back down to play with your pulsing clit. you whine into his hand as you cum hardddd on his dick, squeezing him so hard he can barely pull out to thrust in again.

“shhh sh sh, there you go…reaaal yummy huh?” he coos, bringing that hand back up to choke you again, “baby girl likes getting choked huh? dont’cha?”

you try and make a sound but you just can’t with how hard he’s squeezing your neck. “yeeeeaaah she likes it, little pussy gushes on me when i squeeze your throat like…thisss…” he gives a few final hard sloppy thrusts, letting go of your neck to give you a breathing break, sweat dripping down his chest, before he shoots hot strings of cum into your cervix.

he doesn’t pull out to keep all that cum stuffed in you and bends down to give you wet sloppy ‘good job’ kisses, whispering an ‘i love you’ after every kiss.

“think we were pretty quiet this time?” your boyfriend whispers looking into your eyes, and all you can do is give him doe eyes, pout and let out a little “mph!” ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[lets-try-some-writing]

I got the image of the Jack, Miko and Rafael learning to imitate Distressed/terrified Sparkling cries and using them against the decepticons. It’s a very efficient defense mechanism. Every cybertronian who heard them is freaking out because oh primus how is the squishy thing making that noise and I gotta protect it at all costs. The sheer chaos that would ensue as the ‘protect/rescue the sparkling’ programming kicks in full force.

——

The vehicons are clustered at the other end of the room panicking. They don’t know what to do. The human sparklings are looking right at them and making distress noises. The guilt is killing them.

Knockout going “is the car form less alarming?! If I turn into a car will you stop seeing me as the threat?!”

Breakdown is having a breakdown.

Starscream pinned to the wall on the other side of the room having an internal crisis. He doesn’t like this. Make it stop.

Soundwave makes no noise but you can FEEL the sheer distress radiating off of him.

Megatron is frozen. No thoughts, head empty. He’s not moving at all. He doesn’t know how to handle this.

——

The autobots have mixed feelings about this. They’re glad the kids have a way of defending themselves but please don’t do it near them. They’re stressed out enough as it is.

(This might sound kinda dumb but I thought it was kinda funny. Very tired while writing this)

Wait no this is actually brilliant.

The Decepticons never anticipated their long buried parental nature to be used against them. No one did. But they day the human children turned up on the battlefield looking far too confident, every Bot and Con present had the all encompassing feeling that something was terribly wrong. Their suspicions were quickly confirmed when, before the Decepticons could do much of anything to get the relics they were after, Rafael began to wail.

Normally, human screams meant nothing. But there was a certain pitch that sounded so close to a cry of distress from a sparkling that, to warriors who had not heard a sparkling in millennia, it was enough to send them running to help. In this case, the issue was only compounded as the children scattered like mice and started making the same noises. The Decepticons could hardly focus on the Autobots booking it to the relics as they frantically tried to locate the fictitious sparklings calling for aid.

The Vehicons managed to get to Jack, but he just kept looking up at them defiantly. Every time one of the dozen or so Vehicons on the field tried to grab him, blast him, or otherwise hurt him, Jack would chirp like a sparkling and send all of them scurrying back. It wasn't cute to the Vehicons. Having never seen actual sparklings but still having the coding needed to adore them, they looked at Jack and saw a weird frame-walker. They weren't sure what to do about it except try to haul themselves away while also keeping a vague circle around the human male.

Miko on the other hand made it a point to chase after Megatron and Soundwave, screeching like a sparkling about to be shredded. Neither stopped for her, but Megatron completely lost his train of thought every time that screech rang out. He could have been aiming at Optimus with a perfect head shot and he would be unable to fire as Miko's distressed sounds rang out in his audials. He KNEW she wasn't a sparking. His coding wasn't even that strong. But by Primus, hearing her screech was the same as watching a civilian get run over by a bus, repeatedly. Focus was impossible.

Soundwave wasn't much better. He didn't react outwardly, but the slowing of his steps and the way he tried to sidestep Miko gave away his distress. He avoided her like the plague, trying to refocus but being unable to really get far as Miko screamed like a demon. It was a fight against the Unmaker himself to keep Soundwave from bolting over to collect the sparkling who sounded so very upset.

Rafael, for his part, followed Miko's lead and harassed the other three members of High Command most often found out on the field. Breakdown ran screaming the moment Rafael started chirping at him. This was both out of fear of the frame-walker and to escape the inevitable overreaction of his coding. He may or may not have attempted parkour once or twice to get as far away from the smallest of the humans as possible.

Knockout tried to ignore Rafael when the kid chirped up at him, he really really did. But how does one ignore the Cybertronian equivalent of a soaking wet kitten meowing up at you? Simply put: you don't. Knockout gave in and quickly dropped down to try and soothe the non-existent sparkling every. single. time. Rafael pulled his noise trickery. He never fails to panic and attempt to flash colorful things at Rafael to get him to stop. Every Decepticon has since been endlessly disappointed in him.

Starscream, being terrified of things that really shouldn't be there, took the skies the instant the trio began screeching. Nope. Not today Unicron. He'll get the mission done or get the heck out of dodge to avoid coding coming online. He doesn't need empty nest syndrome on top of a crippling case of "I Love Power." He also doesn't need to deal with the horrific mental image of a squishy somehow managing to sound like a sparkling. Nope. Nope. NOPE.

The Autobots are grateful the kids can protect themselves a bit now. But by Primus, they have known NO peace since the kids figured it all out.

[absurdthirst]

The Last Piece of Us {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.6k

Warnings: Lingerie, birthday sex, riding, mentions of birth control, cannon violence, broken legs, car accidents, end of the world, regret, anger, harsh words, reunions, oral sex (female receiving),

Comments: When the world ends that night, Joel has to make a choice between you and his daughter. You encouraged him to save Sarah and twenty years later, he finds out that you survived that night when he sees you in Jackson.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

"Happy birthday, baby." You coo down the phone, twirling the cord around your finger. 

"Thank you." Joel flusters as he holds his cell phone in his hand while he watches Tommy carry some lumber across the yard of the home they are working on. 

"I have your present waiting for when you come over on your lunch break." You promise and Joel smirks, "yeah?" His voice is rougher, hoping that his present is you in that little silk number he barely managed to not rip off of you the first time you wore it. 

"Yeah...and sex. Birthday sex." You say bluntly and he chuckles at how eager you are. He's just as eager. Life is perfect. The only thing that could make it better is if you move in with him. He wants to ask Sarah about you moving in and see if she is upset with him before he takes the next step. "I'll be there for lunch." He promises just as Tommy spins around and calls out for him to work. "Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean you get the day off, asshole." Joel snorts, "I gotta go baby. See you soon." He promises and hangs up, shoving his Nokia back in his pocket to help his brother because he heads over to your place for his birthday lunch.

Only an hour remains until Joel should be here and you bite your lip as you look around. You had gotten him a cake, a small one from the grocery store, but knowing him - he hadn’t arranged for anything else. Joel doesn’t like to fuss over himself, but he deserves it. You’ve never met a man who does so much, works so hard, to provide a solid and stable life for his daughter. You had met him at the grocery store two years ago. He had been slightly panicked in the pads and tampons aisle, unsure of what to get his daughter. You had taken mercy on him and it had turned into flirting every time you ran into each other, and eventually you asked him out for a drink. Now, you are head over heels for Joel Miller and you hope that soon enough, you will take your relationship to the next level.

Joel takes his break after Tommy notices that distracted, lovesick look on his face. “Get the fuck out of here. Me and the guys will handle it.” He promises and Joel doesn’t look back as he grabs the keys to his truck and drives over to your place. He rings the doorbell and you open the door, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. “Happy birthday, baby.” You coo and kiss his lips. He grins, pushing you into your hallway and he kicks the door closed as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into Joel’s mouth, tangling your fingers into his head and breathing him in while he kisses you. He smells like sunshine and sweat. Like man. You have no problem with your hardworking, blue collar boyfriend. You love it actually. His hands are rough, but he’s gentle with you unless you don’t want him to be.

He groans into your mouth, loving how you respond and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass through the pretty sundress you’re wearing. “You look good enough to eat.” He groans, kissing along your jaw as he backs you against the wall to push his hardening cock against your hip.

“You’re just horny.” You tease, eyes closing and you have to admit you are just as horny. You’ve been imagining him inside you all day. Especially when you put on these panties. “Fuck, baby. Tell me you can take a full lunch.” You beg, reaching for his belt between your bodies.

He nods, "Tommy has it under control. Wanna celebrate my birthday with my lady." He murmurs, kissing along your neck and his hands slide under your dress to squeeze your ass again, feeling the lace. "Fuck, I'm a lucky bastard." He groans against your neck. He knows he should sit down and have lunch with you before having sex but he's been thinking about you all damn day.

“You want to fuck me against the wall or go to the bed?” You hum, pushing on his chest slightly so you can drag him to your bed. “It’s your birthday, so I figured I would ride your cock and let you lay back and relax.”

"You are spoiling me." He grunts, letting you take his hand after he says, "bed." You escort him up the stairs to your bedroom, squealing when he smacks your ass playfully, and he groans at the flash of your panties when you are a few steps ahead of him. When you stumble into your room, he grabs the hem of your dress and drags it up your body. "Happy fucking birthday to me." He hisses, dark eyes taking in your lingerie.

You giggle, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching in to cup his cock. “I could say the same thing.” You coo, squeezing him gently. “Fuck, I’m always amazed at how fucking thick you are.” You moan. “Perfect to fill me up.” He groans and reaches for the collar of his shirt to pull it off, batting your hand away to shimmy out of his jeans and boxer briefs. “Are you going to wear the panties or fuck me.” He demands, making you grin. “They’re crotchless.”

"Jesus Christ." He hisses, "you're trying to kill me. I won't make my next birthday." He groans, stumbling as he kicks his jeans aside and reaches for you, his fingers cupping your cunt through the lace and he hisses at the slick he discovers.

“Thirty-“ you break off a moan when his fingers brush your clit and he starts to rub. “Thirty-six is old enough.” You joke, holding onto his shoulders and trying to steer him to the bed while his hand is still between your thighs. “I can claim I fucked you to death.”

"Put it on my headstone." He chuckles, shifting onto the bed after reluctantly pulling his hand away from your pussy. "Death by orgasm...not a bad way to go." He smirks at you as you straddle his stomach and he can feel how wet you are. His hands slide up your sides until he's cupping your tits, admiring the lace that is covering them.

“Happy Birthday, old man.” You grin as you start grinding down on his cock, feeling how much he loves that as his fingers dig into your skin and he squeezes. Leaning down to kiss him lets your lips catch on the head and you start to push your hips back, letting him break you open as your tongue slides against his.

His hands let go of your tits, sliding down to grab your hips as you sink down onto him with a moan into his mouth. He responds with his own and his cock twitches as you engulf him in your wet, hot heat. “Fuckkk.” He finally pants against your mouth as you take all of him.

You smirk, eyes glazed over from how good it feels. “Fuck is right.” You pant, kissing him again and again as you enjoy the pinch of him filling you and pausing so you can adjust. He’s thick and a lot to take so you give yourself a minute before you start riding him.

Joel slides his hands behind your back, wanting to unclasp your bra, and he drags the straps down your arms to expose your tits to his hungry gaze. He tosses the bra across the room and his hands find your tits again, squeezing and pinching your nipples as you slowly start to move on top of him.

“Fuck Joel.” You moan softly, always loving the way he touches you. Joel hadn’t dated a lot before you, being super protective of having people come in and out of Sarah, his daughter’s, life. You respect it, but it gave a greedy, hungry edge to his touch, like he had been so starved for it for so long he was going to gorge himself.

He hisses when your walls flutter around his cock, loving the way you moan his name. “God, baby. You feel so fucking good.” He rasps, trying to not thrust up into you. He went so many years after Helen left without touching anyone, only focusing on raising Sarah, so when you came along, he was greedy for your body, for your touch.

You agree with a hum, rocking on him a little faster. Greedy yourself for his cock inside you. “Fuck.” You moan softly. “I love you.” You promise. “So much.”

"Love you too." He promises, dark eyes watching you as you move on top of him. The best fucking birthday present he could ask for. He hisses when your walls squeeze him, "so goddamn beautiful, sweetheart. So fucking perfect." He grunts, thrusting up into you.

You chuckle breathlessly and grind down into his lap more. Feeling his cock twitch and pulse inside you. “Tomorrow- tomorrow do you want to go out?” You ask, leaning down and kissing him again. “Have Tommy watch Sarah?”

He nods, knowing that Sarah will want to spend time with Tommy. "Yes. Wanna - let me take you out for dinner. Wanna treat my lady." He declares, sliding his hands down to squeeze your ass and he shifts to sit up, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can surge forward to kiss you.

You had been thinking about treating him, but you can squabble over that later. Now you kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and desperately needing more from him as you start to bounce on his cock.

He grunts as you start to move faster on top of him, his hands caressing your back while your tongue tangles with his. His hands slide down to grab your hips, rocking you on top of him a little faster. Your whimpers against his chin tell him you're close and he is desperate to hold off from cumming inside of you. He wants to feel you squeeze his cock.

“Love you, love you, love you.” You chant, over and over again. Feeling your entire body light up with the purest pleasure. Making you gasp and whine as you rocket towards a familiar peak with Joel. “Baby- I’m gonna- cum- I’m gonna - gonna cum!” You squeal when he hits something perfect inside you and your vision goes white, body locking up in pleasure.

Joel hisses when you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum, and he groans your name. He grabs your ass, lifting you and shifting to lay you down on the bed so he can work you through your orgasm and thrust to his own. He leans down to kiss along your neck, "fuck. I love you, baby. Shit, gonna - I'm gonna cum. You're too fucking tight." He groans, thrusting a half dozen more times before he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed.

You whimper, stroking his back as he cums. Filling you up in a way that makes your eyes roll back in bliss. You’re on the pill, so you can enjoy yourself like this. You took them every morning with the antibiotic for the root canal you had just had done. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur, kissing his jaw.

Joel turns his head to kiss you properly, his tongue lazily sliding against yours as he savors this time with you before he has to go back to work. He’s having dinner with Sarah later, relaxing and he can’t wait for the days when you are curled up beside him as you watch TV with them. “I love you.” Joel murmurs, “best birthday ever.” He grins and nudges his nose against yours until he pulls out when he starts to go soft.

“You know this wasn’t your actual birthday present, right?” You laugh, watching him flop onto his back and spread his legs wide to let his cock dry. “I got you a present.” He perks up at that, his face softening. “You did?” He sounds almost surprised but you nod and climb off the bed to get the gift you had wrapped for him.

Joel takes the wrapped gift from you after you come to sit down beside him and he takes it from you, eyes wide at the beautifully wrapped gift. “You didn’t have to get me anything baby.” He tuts even as he rips off the paper and opens the box. “Oh shit!” He exclaims, eyes widening even more at the sight of the beautiful knife inside. “It’s engraved.” You tell him, pointing to the handle and he traces your initials and his on the handle. “It’s beautiful. I- I love it.” He assures you, leaning in to kiss you.

You are so fucking happy he likes the knife, you had worried that it was too personal. Then you wondered if it wasn’t personal enough. “You always complain you never have a good knife when you need one.” You remind him. “This one can clip onto your belt and you can carry it around anytime.” He’s a working man, handy as fuck and you want him to be able to use something you get for him instead of it just collecting dust.

“It’s so perfect. Just like you.” Joel murmurs, reaching up to caress your cheek, “I’m sorry I can’t go out for dinner tonight. I promised Sarah to spend tonight together and I want to make sure she knows I have time for her. She’s been so good about us and I just - I want to make sure she knows that she’s important. You’re important too.” He adds, “my girls.”

“Baby, I completely understand.” You promise, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. “Your daughter will always and should always come first. We can go out tomorrow. Tonight is for you and Sarah.” You never want the little girl to feel like you are trying to take her dad away or trying to become her mother. You’ve met her a few times, and you want to ease into a friendship with her.

“Jesus Christ, I’m a lucky bastard.” He smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. “Now…you said something about lunch?” He raises his eyebrows, his stomach rumbling and you giggle, nodding as you shift off of the bed and he carefully puts his knife back in the box. You clean up and redress just as Joel’s phone rings. He scrambles to pull it out of his pocket and he sees it’s Tommy. “Hey man, what’s up?” He asks and Tommy sighs, “I’m sorry. I know you’re having your birthday sex but we had a pipe burst over here. We need you.” Tommy says and Joel huffs, rubbing his cheek. “Sure. I’ll be right there.” He hangs up and looks at you, “I’m so sorry baby. I gotta - pipe burst over at the house. They need me there to help clean up and fix the mess.”

“Okay.” You nod quickly, knowing that he can’t help that. “Let me fix you something to take with you.” You insist, rushing to the kitchen to put some of the lunch you fixed in a Tupperware. “Shit!” You are rushing and accidentally knock the cake to the floor as Joel walks in. “Damnit, I’m so sorry.”

Joel looks down at the floor and up at you, "baby. Shit - let me-" He kneels down to scoop up the cake. It's completely smashed and he feels awful. "I'm so sorry. Fuck. I - this was supposed to be our time and it's - it's been screwed up." He shakes his head, putting the pieces of cake back in the box, "we can still eat it. Five second rule."

“No.” You huff, not finding the idea of eating cake off the floor appealing. “I’ll get you another cake.” You promise. “Or, I’ll bake you one.” You decide. “I just hate that you don’t have it to take home tonight. I know you haven’t picked up one for yourself.”

Joel stands up, walking over to the sink to clean off his hands. “It’s okay, baby. I don’t need a cake. I got you. And an incredible knife. That’s all I need.” He assures you, cupping your cheeks and leaning in to kiss you. His phone rings again and he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” He promises as he grabs his jacket.

You watch as he rushes out of the door and sigh heavily. Looking over at the Tupperware. “Damnit.” You hiss, feeling like a failure because you couldn’t even feed him lunch.

​​Joel is exhausted by the time he makes it home and he grins when he finds Sarah waiting. “I’m sorry.” He promises, Sarah reaches for his present. He playfully shakes the box, humming out and he is shocked when he opens it to discover his watch is repaired. “Thank you, baby girl.” He murmurs, kissing her hair.

Watching the news, you frown at the reports of violence escalating and you turn it off. Joel would be in the middle of a movie with Sarah and you won’t disturb them. Instead, you decide to go take a long bath, wanting to soak the day away.

Joel sighs as he hangs up, shaking his head at his brother who had gotten into trouble. He knew it was his movie night with Sarah, his goddamn birthday, but he still went out and got into it with some asshole at the bar and now Joel’s gotta go bail him out. He strokes Sarah’s hair and shuts the TV off before he carries her to bed. Kissing her forehead, he makes his way to his truck, wondering if you’re still awake.

 ****

 “Shit. What the fuck happened back there?” Tommy pants as Joel speeds away from the station. “I don’t know.” Joel shakes his head, knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. People were fucking biting each other, running fast and making a clicking noise. Like nothing he’s ever seen. “We gotta get out of town.” Tommy declares and Joel agrees. “Let’s get Sarah, get my girl, and get the fuck out of here.” He decides, pushing his foot to the gas to get to his girls faster.

You wake up shortly after midnight, sirens wailing and then there’s a giant explosion. It jolts you out of a dream and you jump out of bed to rush to the window. Opening the curtains and gasping when you see fires, lights and people running and screaming in the streets. “Holy shit!” You gape, standing there for a second before you are running to get dressed and pack a bag. You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you are going to Joel’s.

Joel speeds up, running over the next door neighbor he’s never really liked, and he panics when he sees Sarah standing outside the house, a terrified look on her face. “It’s okay, get in the car. In the car!” He shouts, ushering his daughter into his truck. He’s already tried calling you but the phone lines are down. He just hopes you stayed home to wait for him.

Your bag is slung over your shoulder, bat in your hand and you can see the car. It feels like a million miles away and you have already attracted the attention of some crazy person by unlocking the doors with your key fob. They are running back and forth in front of the door and screeching. “Fuck! Fuck!” You take the chance when they out of sight nto run out to the car, screaming when they appear out of nowhere to chase you, slamming their head into the window when you close the door in time. Fumbling with the keys, you finally get the car started, backing out of the driveway with the tires screeching and you throw it into drive.

Joel frantically drives through the streets, passing a family calling for help and he tells Tommy he can’t stop, he needs to get to you. He drives faster, squealing the tires as he turns into your neighborhood. Your car isn’t on your driveway when he drives past and he starts to panic until he finds your car crashed into a porch of the house down the street, smoke coming from the engine. He gets out, slamming the door, and he runs over to you, trying to get the car door open but it’s stuck. “Baby, are you okay?” He shouts, banging on the window but your face is resting on the steering wheel.

You groan quietly, feeling like you’ve been hit in the head with an anvil. “Wha-“ winching, you open your eyes slowly to find yourself behind the wheel and then you remember. The person who had been attacking you had jumped out in front of you and you had swerved. You jump when Joel bangs on the window again and looks over at him. “Joel!” You cry out, looking around. “Be careful- a man- he- he attacked me!”

Joel spins around when he hears a growl and he grabs the knife you gave him that put on his belt after he rescued Tommy. He raises his arm and stabs the guy in the head. You scream and Joel withdraws his knife and the guy falls to the ground dead. Joel’s heart is pounding and he turns back to the car. “Baby, the door is stuck. Can you climb to the other side?” He asks, banging on the glass.

“I-I think so.” You struggle with the seatbelt for a moment. Nearly panicking when it wouldn’t come undone right away. Finally free, you crawl over the console to the passenger door. Pushing on it for a second before Joel is there to help.

He pulls on the door, trying to open it, and he lifts his leg to brace it on the car. Sarah and Tommy watch as Joel pulls until finally, the door opens and you scream as you try to get out of the car. “What’s wrong, baby?” Joel catches you. 

“My leg. I- I think it’s broken.” You choke, the pain suddenly hitting you and Joel catches you. 

“It’s okay, baby. I got you.” He promises, lifting you into his arms. 

“We gotta go!” Tommy shouts and Sarah opens the back door for Joel to put you in the back seat. Tommy shifts into the driver's seat and Joel shuts the door, getting into the passenger seat. “You doing okay?” Joel turns to ask you and Sarah after Tommy squeals down the street.

“I think- what the fuck is going on?” You demand, making both Joel and Tommy tense up slightly. Sarah is wide eyed and frantic beside you. 

“They’re saying it’s some kind of virus.” Tommy answers, twisting his hand around the steering wheel. You listen as Sarah starts to question them about possibly having it and you wrap your arm around the little girl’s shoulders. 

“I think we would already be sick.” You try to comfort her. She turns and huddles against you and you try to ignore the way your leg is starting to throb. It feels like a fracture, which can cause problems so you need to find a pharmacy or something for a splint and antibiotics. “Joel…..I need to stop for medicine.” You know the goal is to be safe, but you also know that your leg could get infected.

Joel nods, turning to look at you and Sarah. “Tommy. The pharmacy. On Main Street.” Joel says and Tommy nods, speeding down the road. When you arrive on Main Street, it’s carnage. People screaming and running. Joel is tense, knowing he needs to help you with your leg but he’s also wanting to drive far away right now. “Tommy!” He shouts as a truck speeds down the street just as a plane overhead starts to fall from the sky.

The next few moments seem to go in slow motion. Joel demanding that Tommy plow through the crowd that is running in the streets and you looking back at the plane as it almost slowly hits the ground, although you know it’s traveling at hundreds of miles an hour. The fireball erupts and both you and Sarah cry out as the shockwave sends the force of the explosion and debris into the truck, flipping it. Your world goes dark.

……“Wake up. Baby, wake up.” Joel begs, turning to see your head lolling and Sarah groans as Joel scrambles to get out of the truck. People are screaming and running, others attacking and his heart is pounding in his chest. Joel manages to get Sarah from the truck, pulling her free and he calls out to Tommy. His brother is trying to get out still and Joel curses as he sets Sarah on the ground. “Can you walk?” He asks and she groans, “my ankle.” He growls, “stay here” and crawls back over to the truck. “Baby. Baby, can you move?” He asks, reaching for you.

Groaning, you try to move as Tommy pulls free of the truck, shaking your head. “Joe-“ you are cutting off with a scream and the truck is jolted forward as the back of the upside down truck is smashed into by a police cruiser. “Shit!” You start to panic as the cop car catches on fire. “Joel! Joel!” Your legs are pinned and even if you are able to get free, you still have a fractured leg. You can hear the panic in Joel’s curses and you know you are going to just make it dangerous for him and Sarah. “I’m stuck!” You yell. “Take Sarah and go!”

“No!” He yells, looking up to see Tommy on the other side of the cop car. Sarah is still on the ground. He can’t take both of you. “Tommy! Can you get over here?” He shouts to his brother, desperation in his voice. “Baby, baby. You gotta - just try and crawl out. I can’t reach you.” He is hyperventilating, trying to save you. “Just try!”

“Go on Joel! Get her out of here!” Tommy shouts over the noise of the fire and the chaos around you. “I’ll get her out and meet you by the river.” You know Tommy is giving Joel hope and you look in his eyes, seeing the hesitation. “I’ll meet you there.” You lie. “Take Sarah and get her out of here baby. I love you.” You choke out, knowing you won’t see him again.

Joel feels like he won’t see you again. He swallows down the lump in his throat, tears in his eyes as he leans in, wishing he could kiss you but he can’t reach you. “I love you. I’ll - I’ll see you soon.” He promises but he can’t keep it. The truck creaks and he turns, scooping up Sarah and she screams, “you have to save her!” Joel hyperventilates as he carries his daughter away, knowing he can save her. He is distracted when he stumbles into the alleyway. He sees the man stumbling before he starts to chase them and Joel grunts, running away with Sarah in his arms. He prays that Tommy rescued you.

Tommy grunts and heaves at the section of the bench that is pinning your ankle. Keeping you in the truck. “Sweetheart…” you can hear the defeat in his voice and your own tears are sliding up into your hair. You’re still upside down and soon enough you will lose consciousness. “It’s okay.” You tell him. “Take care of Joel and Sarah, okay?” You beg him. It’s been pure luck that someone hasn’t attacked Tommy yet but he can’t stay out here any longer. “Go.”

Tommy nods, knowing that this will kill Joel but they can’t do anything without calling for machinery and that isn’t going to happen with the mess that’s happening around you. “I’m so sorry.” Tommy murmurs, reaching in to squeeze your hand. “Go.” You choke and Tommy nods, his chest tight as he lets go of your hand and runs down the street to find Joel. 

**** 

“We’re not sick. We’re not sick!” Joel shouts and tries to turn as the soldier fires his gun. He rolls down the hill with Sarah and she chokes on her own blood when he scrambles over to her. “No no no no. Baby girl. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” He promises, pulling her against him and pressing his hand to the wound to try and stop the bleeding. He’s losing her. He knows he is. He’s losing her and he’s lost you. His girls. “Baby girl. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He chokes, kissing her hair and he feels her go limp in his arms. Sobs escape his lips as he cradles her just as Tommy arrives without you. It’s his worst nightmare and it’s come true.

**** 

Joel is tense as he rides into the town, Ellie clinging to him. His heart is still pounding from nearly losing her to a rabid dog, and that’s when he hears his name. “Tommy!” He shouts, swinging off of the horse and rushing towards the brother he thought he had lost. “Tommy!” He shouts again and wraps his arms around his brother.

Your head pops up from where you were working on the lights. Knowing that voice, a ghost from your past and the sounds that haunt your dreams at night. Tommy Miller arriving in Jackson had been a complete surprise, but you hadn’t talked to him about Joel. Now even when he had offered to tell him that you were still alive. You had made him promise not to send that message. Maria had agreed and asked Tommy to stop sending communications from the tower. Watching, you see the brothers embrace in the middle of the street and know you need to rush home but before you can turn away, brown eyes that you remember so well turn and lock onto you.

Joel feels like he’s been punched in the gut. You’re standing there staring at him, mouth open like his and he drops his arms from Tommy as he murmurs your name. It’s definitely you. You look older but just as fucking beautiful. He swallows harshly and his heart thumps in his chest. “I need - it’s her. She’s alive.” He chokes, his heart pounding and he feels sick, knowing he left you there alone.

Tommy follows Joel’s gaze and shuffles guiltily. “Yeah.” He nods. “Surprised me when I saw her here.” He admits quietly, still feeling guilty about that night and you being left behind. “Joel-“ he doesn’t have the words to properly apologize, but he has regrets to last a lifetime. “I’m sorry.”

Joel shakes his head, unable to say anything. Ellie looks on as Joel practically stumbles over to you. His hands reach for you and he lifts his hands to cup your cheeks. “You’re alive.” He chokes, “you are here.” He declares in awe.

“I’m here.” You whisper, knowing that you’ve aged and so has Joel, but you can see that he’s still the same man you had been with so many years ago. Just with a little more mileage on him and what looks like a lifetime of regret. Tommy had told you about Sarah, so you know that in one night he had lost everyone he loved except for his brother. That’s why it’s not surprising to you to see Joel here.

He caresses your cheeks, trying to experience every year you have survived without him by your side through the stories your skin tells and you grip his wrists, clinging to him as a gruff voice calls out, “who the fuck is this?” Joel turns to look over at the guy, ready to defend you or himself in case it’s your husband, but he freezes when he sees the boy. He’s about twenty. His eyes and nose are like Joel’s. “Mom. Are you okay?” The boy comes over to you and Joel feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“JJ…..” you turn your head to watch your son closely, feeling Joel stiffen and you step away from him. “Baby, this is Joel Miller.” You explain carefully, making your son’s frown deepen into a fierce scowl. 

“This is the asshole that left you to die?” He scoffs, glaring at Joel as he looks him up and down. “JJ!” You hiss. “It wasn’t like that!” You had never told your son about that night, but Tommy had told his story and it had gotten around. JJ had taken to thinking the worst of his father.

Ellie watches in shock as she tries to put the pieces together. Joel is still in shock. He has a son. He left you to die and you were pregnant. “I - you were - and I-” He chokes and JJ scoffs, “yeah. You left her to die, you piece of shit. And she was pregnant.” He growls and steps towards Joel who holds his hands up, ready to take what your son gives him. He deserves it.

“STOP IT.” You step in front of your son, your hand on his chest and you push him back to wag your finger in his face. “Joesph Joel Miller, you go back to the house right now.” You scold him. “I will talk to you later, but don’t you dare step foot out of that house until I get back.”

Joel is speechless and your son clenches his jaw, knowing it’s best to not argue with his mother so he steps back from Joel and storms off to your house. Joel watches him, his eyes wide as he looks back at you, desperate for an explanation to be spoken instead of his mind whirling.

Tommy steps up, looking around and the curious spectators. “Maybe we can talk while we get them something to eat?” He asks you. “I know that my brother has the same questions I had.” You look at him and nod, gesturing towards the meal hall. “Come, I - is your little girl hungry?” You ask, trying not to be upset that Joel has another child.

Joel doesn’t explain, he can’t. He’s still in shock so he nods and beckons Ellie to follow as you guide him to the canteen. Tommy gets some food brought over and the woman from earlier sits down. “I think this is a conversation best left between family.” Joel hints and Maria snorts, “I am family.” She holds up her hand to display her wedding ring and Tommy takes her hand in his. “She’s my wife.” Joel is shocked once more, shaking his head. “I- I can’t - when - how?” He needs answers. Now.

You don’t answer, letting Tommy tell his story as he sees fit. He explains how Maria had found him after he left the Fireflies and brought him here. “And I was surprised as shit to find her here.” He nods towards you, bringing Joel’s attention back to you, although he had kept looking at you the entire time. Apparently now it’s time that you explain your story. “That night- uh, Tommy couldn’t get me free.” You know Tommy had told him about leaving you, but only you know what happened after. “Another- there was another car that hit the police cruiser.” You wince slightly, remembering how hot it had been. “It shifted the seat and I could crawl out of the truck. The chaos-“ you shake your head. “It was- quiet then. Not many were left alive.” You look down at your hands. “I crawled to the pharmacy and managed to get inside. It was where I stayed for a week.”

Joel sets his fork down, running his fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes. He didn’t try hard enough to get you out. He left you alone. He left you alone and pregnant. The guilt claws at his insides but he doesn’t interrupt you, wanting you to tell your story.

“The pharmacy had a boot and I could use that to walk, so I waited until the antibiotics were in my system and the food in the store was gone.” You huff at yourself. “You remember when I had that root canal?” You ask and he frowns and nods. “Well….antibiotics, umm, they make your birth control not work.” You admit with a small shrug of your shoulders and a wry smile. “The best I can estimate is that we conceived JJ that day, on your birthday.” You admit quietly. “I didn’t realize I was pregnant until months later. When I was at a refugee camp.” You sigh softly, remembering how you had wondered if Joel survived, looking for him everyday during that time. You never found him.

Joel shakes his head, finally opening his eyes to look at you. "I- I left you and you were - Jesus Christ." He hates himself. The loathing from Sarah's death explodes and he chokes. "I am - shit - I am so sorry. I can't - there's - I should've tried harder to get you out of there. I should've - fuck." He feels tears sting in his eyes and he rubs them.

“You had Sarah to take care of.” You remind him softly, reaching out and touching his arm. “I always told you to put her first. I’m not- I don’t blame you Joel. And I’m so sorry about Sarah.” You murmur, ignoring the way that Ellie looks on with fascination between slurping bites of her soup. “JJ doesn’t know the entire story.”

Joel swallows harshly, “I don’t - he’s gotta hate me.” He murmurs and Maria looks at Tommy before her gaze slides to Ellie. “Hey. Why don’t we get you a shower and some new clothes? I can cut your hair too.” Maria offers and Ellie opens her mouth to protest leaving Joel when he says “let’s go. I need some air.” He stands up and grabs his backpack, needing to be outside so he can think. Maria and Tommy stand up and Joel looks at you. “You need some time. I’ll find you later.” You promise and he nods, “soon.”

​​Walking slowly back to your house, you can’t believe that Joel is here. Feeling guilty for the shock of learning that you had his child at the end of the world. You had honestly never expected to see him again. You know about Tess, learning from Tommy that Joel had found some semblance of happiness. You could never begrudge him that. Not even if you had never been involved with anyone yourself. You had been too busy raising JJ, helping build Jackson into what it is now. Surviving this cruel new world. Reaching the near home you share with your son, you sigh and watch as he comes charging out onto the front porch, oddly deflating when he sees you are alone. “He already left?” He demands bitterly and you shake your head. Everyday you are reminded how much JJ is like his father. More serious in his young life, but circumstances had dictated that. “JJ….” You sigh softly. “Sometimes you are so like him.”

Your son shakes his head, “I’m nothing like that piece of shit. He left you alone to die, mom. He left you in that truck. Everyone said uncle Tommy stayed behind to save you but he couldn’t. That bastard ran away, he left you. He left us.” JJ spits as he looks down the street as if he’s looking for Joel.

“You have- had a sister, JJ.” You reach out for him and take his hand, not letting him shake you off. “Half sister. Her name was Sarah and she was twelve the night the world ended.” You explain quietly. “That night, I was trapped in the truck and Sarah was hurt. Joel couldn’t get me out and protect her. Just like I’ve always protected you, Sarah was his priority. That’s how it should have been. How I wanted it. I told him to go. I thought I was going to die and I didn’t want them to die with me.”

JJ shakes his head, trying to process that his half sister died that night. That you sent his father away to save her and he failed. “I can’t - you have never talked about him. Why? Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” JJ asks, wanting to know why he’s been kept in the dark.

You swallow, your eyes starting to get watery and you bite your lip for a moment before you compose yourself. Needing to not sob out of anger at the way your life had turned out. “Because he’s- your father is the great love of my life.” You admit quietly, reaching under your shirt and pulling out the heart charm that you have always worn. “For a long time, I had thought he had died. So many died, and I couldn’t-“ you break off when your voice cracks. “I thought it would be easier, but you look just like him. Act just like him.”

JJ reaches for you, knowing that you’re upset. “I’m sorry, mom. Shit. I’m sorry.” He pulls you into his arms, wanting to comfort you. He’s still conflicted but he knows that you will be strong like you always have. “He’s not dead. He’s here and he - he’s got another kid.”

You hum, knowing that it’s surprising. “I can’t blame him. He thought I was dead.” You remind your son. The son you created with Joel on that fateful day. You hug him tightly. “Life is harsh. You find happiness where you can. I found my happiness in raising you. Keeping a piece of him safe.”

JJ sighs, pulling back to look at you. “I’m really like him?” He asks and you chuckle, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Yeah. You have his stubbornness.” JJ snorts and smiles at you, “I want to meet him properly.” You nod, “we can arrange that.” 

**** 

Joel sips the whiskey Tommy handed him, admiring the bar they have set up. A fucking bar. While he’s been out there fighting for his life to get Ellie where she needs to go, to find his brother, the brother in question was drinking in a bar and knew the love of Joel’s life was safe and had his kid. He downs the drink, tapping the bar to silently ask for another. Tommy raises his eyebrows but pours another measure, grabbing himself a glass. “I’m gonna be a dad.” Tommy announces and Joel can’t feel happy for him. Smothered by his own failures as a parent, he scoffs and Tommy shakes his head, “you can’t even be happy for me.” Joel shrugs, “you’ll be fine.”

Tommy sighs, exasperated. “I’m sorry about Sarah, Joel.” He huffs. “But just because she died doesn’t mean I stopped living.” He tells his brother. “You have a grown son.” His brow lifts slightly. “Maybe you should get to know him.”

Joel stares at the wood grain on the counter, knowing that his son will hate him for leaving you. He doubts he’ll ever establish a relationship with him. “I need to take Ellie to Colorado first.” He declares, “I need to help her.” 

Tommy sighs, “you better go find your girl and talk to her. Ellie will be fine with Maria.” Tommy assures his brother who nods, knowing he needs to talk to you properly. He downs the rest of the whiskey and pushes away from the bar, “show me the way.”

You bring JJ into the house, setting the kettle on to boil so you can sit down and talk with him. Answering any question frankly and telling him more about the man who had helped create him. Sharing parts of yourself that you had kept private for so long and smiling at the memories.

Joel shuffles awkwardly on the threshold of the place you call home. It’s so bizarre being in Jackson, like a mirror image of a time he thought was long gone but this little piece of paradise in Wyoming has his heart relaxing. He’s not worried about dying here. He’s not worried about Ellie getting hurt. He knocks on your door, anxiously awaiting your son to come and punch him. He deserves it and more.

Your forehead furrows slightly and you look up from your tea. “Do you-“ 

JJ stands, shaking his head. “I’ll get the door. It’s probably Matt. We were going to catch the movie after we feed the pigs.” Everyone has their assigned chores and JJ and his best friend were currently on duty with the animals. 

“Okay.” You nod, looking back down at the tea.

Joel looks up as the door opens and he inhales deeply when he sees JJ standing there. “I, uh, guess I should introduce myself properly. I’m Joel Miller.” He holds his hand out and the boy takes it, squeezing it harder than necessary but Joel understands his protectiveness and anger. 

“Joseph Joel Miller.” He responds and Joel can’t believe you named the boy after him when he left you for dead. 

Joel waits until his hand is freed before he scratches his cheek, “I didn’t want to leave your mother. I just - that night - you didn’t live through the chaos. I should’ve stayed. I have regretted it every damn day of my life.” He confesses, “and I’m sorry.” He adds and JJ nods, pushing the door open. “Better if you said it to her.” Joel nods, stepping into the house and he looks around, “she’s in the kitchen.” JJ announces and Joel steps further into the house until he finds the kitchen and you.

When you hear footsteps approaching, you look up, surprised to see Joel standing in the doorway. “Joel.” You shoot out of your seat and stand awkwardly. Wondering if he is here to chew you out for keeping your son from him. “I- do you want some tea?”

Joel knows he should have something to counter the whiskey. He wants to be lucid when he has this conversation with you. “Yeah. Thanks, sweetheart.” He steps towards the table and JJ nods when he pulls out the chair. He sits down and watches you pour out some tea for him. You’re still as beautiful as the day he left you.

“I’ve been talking to JJ.” You explain. “Telling him about that night in more detail. So he can apologize for being so rude to you.” You glance at your son pointedly, and he sighs, toying with his teacup. 

“Sorry I was rude to you.” He tells Joel, not exactly sincere but it’s not as hostile as it had been before. You snort to yourself and bump him when you move to put the kettle back on the stove.

Joel shifts in his seat as he nods at his son, "if it was my momma, I would've punched the asshole who left her to die so I think I got off easy." He says to the boy who has his eyes but your hair and mouth. Joel knows he must have your smile "I am sorry for what happened that night, I never forgave myself. I had nightmares for a long time after that night. Because of all of it." He admits and JJ fiddles with the delicate cup in his hands. "Mom said you lost your daughter...my half sister, Sarah." Joel sighs, his chest tightening in the same way it has since losing his little girl. "She got shot by a soldier. He thought - he thought we were infected and there was nothing - she died in my arms." He finishes with a whisper.

You close your eyes, almost ready to sit down when he says that and you reach out for his arm. “I am so sorry.” You whisper quietly. You had respected his love for his daughter, but it was after you had JJ had you truly understood that willingness to die for your child, or kill for them. 

JJ looks down sadly. “What was she like?” He asks curiously

Joel offers his son a rare smile. “She was funny. She would gang up on me with Tommy, play pranks on me. She was so damn pretty. I was worried about when she was gonna start dating. I was preparing my 9 mil for the boys…if she liked boys. We never established that.” He frowns, “she was a girly girl. Loved pink. She was caring too. Looked after me. Loved cooking. She practically kept me and Tommy fed.” He gets lost in his memories as he taps his fingers on the kitchen table.

JJ listens closely, building a vision of this sister he will never know in his mind. He doesn’t even know if there is a picture of her around and he doesn’t want to ask. “Well, Tommy is still a horrible cook.” He offers with a grin. “Mom and I eat at home on nights he helps in the communal kitchen.”

Joel snorts, “he’s a terrible cook. So am I. I can skin and cook a rabbit but actually spices? Hopeless.” He admits and JJ chuckles. “What about…you have another daughter?” He inquires and Joel places his hand flat on the table. “She’s not mine, biologically. She’s from Boston. Her mom died when she was born and she needs to get to Colorado. Someone I know asked me to take her there and I am.” He discloses, “she’s important. She’s -” He doesn’t know if he should say why because of Ellie’s safety but it’s you, and his son. “She was bitten back in Boston. She’s still alive. She’s - she could be the key to a cure.”

You rear back in surprise. Trying to comprehend what that might mean for the curse that has plagued the world since that night twenty years ago. “Joel-“ you shake your head and huff. “That’s- you can’t tell anyone here.” You caution him. “Tommy, that’s it. I don’t know what the council could do, but we don’t have the facilities here. What’s in Colorado?”

"Doctors. Apparently they are working on a cure. She wants to get over there and I need to take her. She's - she's important to me now." He admits, "I have to help her."

Joel has had an entire life without you. Loved and lost and apparently lost again since Tess isn’t with him. Tommy had explained their relationship and while your heart ached at Joel moving on, it was natural. You couldn’t have expected him to pine over you for the rest of his life. It wouldn’t be fair. It doesn’t matter that you have done that exact thing. “I see.” You nod and look down at your tea cup. “We will help however we can.”

Joel reaches for your hand, “I have to finish my journey with her but then I’ll come straight back. We need - I can’t - unless you want me to stay away.” He murmurs, knowing you might hate him for leaving you to die.

“I don’t want you to stay away.” You murmur softly. “I know that you didn’t have the best introduction to your son, but I want you to know him. For him to know you.” You smile at him, wondering if he’s just trying to understand the last twenty years or if this means he still cares about you in some small way.

Joel nods, offering you a smile and it feels strange on his face. Foreign. He doesn’t smile often. He swallows harshly and looks over at JJ who nods, reluctance and curiosity in his eyes. “As soon as I help Ellie, I’ll come back and we will get to know each other.”

“Did Tommy get a house sorted for you to stay in?” You ask, wondering if he’s going to need to stay with you. Or if Tommy had been planning on that.

Joel frowns, the concept of a house is also foreign to him. “I haven’t - we didn’t really get a chance to discuss where we would stay.” He admits, “Ellie is with Maria. I need to find her and speak to Tommy.” He also needs some air, a moment to process everything he’s discovered today.

“Oh, okay.” You pull your hand out of his and stand up. “She’s probably at Maria and Tommy’s house.” You move to the window and point. “Two blocks that way.”

Joel stands up, brushing down his pants, and he needs a shower but that can wait. He makes his way down the hall followed by you, JJ still in the kitchen. He reaches up to cup your cheek, “I’ll be back if you want me. I’m so sorry I left you, baby.”

“Joel….” You don’t want him to leave and feel guilty. Being distracted out here can get you killed. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” You murmur gently. “I’m sorry that leaving didn’t save Sarah.” You cover his hand with your own. “Be safe and come back as soon as you can.”

He nods, “I gotta - I’m gonna find Ellie and then I’ll be back.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead. He makes his way outside and follows the directions you gave him until he comes to Tommy’s house and he knocks on the door.

Tommy opens the door to find Joel on the porch and he glances behind him to see if anyone else is there. “You looking for Ellie?” He asks, not sure if Joel is still in a tizzy about Maria being pregnant, or you being alive.

Joel nods, “can we talk first? I just - I need to talk to someone about all of this.” He confesses, knowing he isn’t someone who bares his feelings but he needs to talk to his brother, the one person who knows about everything.

“Yeah.” Joel looks almost panicked, or defeated and he looks down at his boots. They are worn out and held together with duct tape. “Come on, let’s get you some shoes.” He grabs his jacket and steps out of the house, pulling it on.

Joel follows his brother to the cobbler. It’s insane to know that there’s a cobbler in this world he has yet to experience. He removes his tattered boots and sits down, swallowing harshly. “I was so afraid.” Joel confesses, “and I have dreams. Every night.” 

“What kind of dreams?” Tommy asks, frowning at his older brother. 

Joel shakes his head, “I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up ... I've lost something. I'm failing in my sleep. It's all I do. It's all I've ever done ... is fail her. Again and again." Her is the women closest to him. Sarah. Ellie. You. He has failed you all and tears sting in his eyes as he tries to process that he’s failed again. He failed you by leaving you pregnant in a world that wanted you dead.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Tommy shakes his head. “There was no easy way out of that situation. She was stuck. Hell, she still walks with a limp on really cold days. If you had got her out, you don’t think those sons of bitches wouldn’t have shot her too?”

Joel chokes at the thought. “I can’t have her again. I failed her. She should hate me. She shouldn’t be with me.” He shakes his head, a tear falling from his eye. “He should hate me. He does. I deserve to be sent away and never let back in.”

Tommy snorts, hating that Joel is letting his demons overrule his heart. He deserves this, he deserves to be free to love again. Especially since he lost Tess. Tess had been a saving grace for him, and even if he didn’t love her completely, it was only because he still loved you. “You wanna know why she wouldn’t let me tell you that she was alive?” Tommy asks Joel, waiting until his older brother looks up at him. “Because you had moved on. You had Tess. You were….content.” Tommy shrugs. “She loves you so much that knowing you were okay was enough for her.”

Joel wipes his cheeks, “I can’t let her have me back. I need to go. You need to take Ellie to Colorado for me. I need to go.” He chokes, knowing he won’t be able to be the man that you need.

“You are your own worst enemy.” Tommy tells him, shaking his head. Joel closes his eyes but whispers a quiet “please”, his tone agonized. “Yeah, alright.” Tommy sighs. “I’ll do it.”

Joel exhales shakily, standing up, and Tommy works on getting him a pair of shoes. He sighs and tries the shoes on, knowing this will be the pair that last him till the end of his days. He knows he won’t make it alone in the wilderness and he deserves to go. It’s time. When he comes back to Tommy’s house, he’s exhausted but he finds Ellie reading a diary. “Is this all they had to worry about? Boys and school?” She scoffs, flipping the page. The next words that come out of Joel’s mouth are ones he will regret. Saying that Ellie isn’t his kid.

Ellie’s face drops as Joel slams out of the room she had picked for herself. Hurt and furious at what she feels like is a betrayal. She hears Joel slam the door shut of the room down the hall before she grabs her jacket and slips out of the house. She needs to talk to someone and it might as well be you.

Joel exhales shakily, his hands shaking and chest heaving while his heart pounds in his chest. He’s failed again. He has failed everyone in his life and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He can’t fail Ellie again. He decides then and there that he’s taking her to Colorado.

The knock on the door is later than you expected. JJ is still at the movie and you wonder if Joel has come back with more questions. Opening the door, you find Ellie, her face drawn and distraught and you immediately step back. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

Ellie shakes her head, tears in her eyes, and she rushes forward to wrap her arms around your waist. “He- he doesn’t want me. No one wants me. I just - I feel so fucking lost.” She chokes, burying her face into you.

It must be because you are a mother, or maybe because of your history with Joel for her to come to you. Wrapping your arms around her, you hug the distraught teen tightly. “He does want you.” You promise her softly. “He’s afraid of losing you.”

Ellie shakes her head, “he doesn’t want me. No one wants me. I’m an orphan and I don’t know where the hell I belong. I need - he was gonna take me to Colorado and I wanted him to take me. I thought - I kinda wanted him to love me.” She chokes, “as a daughter.”

“Sweet girl.” You hold onto her tighter, unsure of why she’s orphaned, but she’s pretty sure it has something to do with the fucked up world. “That’s what scares him. He does.” You rub her back gently. “He loved Sarah with every fiber of her being and Tommy has told me what her dying did to him. It broke him, made him brittle and hard. He’s scared to open himself up again. But he will. He will, for you.”

Ellie sniffs, unused to being so vulnerable. Her whole life she’s had to be strong, to act like nothing bothers her. She swallows harshly and pulls back from you. “Can you walk me back to Tommy’s - I don’t - I don’t know where it is.” She admits, feeling embarrassed by her outburst.

“I can.” You nod and drop your arms from around the younger girl. “Or I can make you some tea?” You offer, knowing she still might be emotional. “You don’t have to go. I was planning on making some for myself and then baking some scones.” You smile. “We’ve grown our own wheat last summer and we are finally able to bake safely again.

Ellie’s eyes widen. She has never baked. She nods, wiping her eyes, and she follows you into the house. She is happy that you comforted her, helped her through a difficult moment. She’s never had a mother figure. Even Marlene was such a brief interaction in her life.

You find Ellie to be completely amazing. She’s witty and sarcastic, harder than Sarah was, but much the same with her sense of humor. It makes sense, because Sarah had been allowed to be innocent whereas Ellie has grown up in a harsher world. Once the scones slide into the oven, you set the timer and smile. “Now, you will have to take half of them when you and Joel go on your trip to Colorado.” You tell her. “You did most of the work.”

Ellie wonders if this is what life was like before the outbreak. If it was this easy and safe and fun. "I don' think Joel is going to take me to Colorado." She sighs, "so looks like more scones for me."

“I don’t know…” you smirk slightly. “You might not want to share them with him once you try them.” It’s a joke, not a particularly good one, but she does huff in slight amusement. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.” She reveals, “I want to get there as soon as possible because…” She steps towards you, pulling on the sleeve of her shirt to show you the healed teeth marks on her arm.

“I think I am the cure to all of this bullshit.”

You had heard it from Joel, but to see the not one, but two scars on her arm is nothing short of amazing. You know it must be true, she would have never gotten past the dogs otherwise. “Amazing.” You whisper quietly, reaching out to tracing the marks. “That’s- you’re amazing.”

Ellie scoffs, “I don’t know about that. I want to give people a chance. To have the life that we used to have. Go to the mall. The movies.” She sighs, dreaming of a future where she could be a normal teenager.

“We are starting to reclaim some of that.” You remind her gently. “Here. We are expanding our lives from just survival. And you are welcomed to stay here and not go to Colorado.” You chuckle quietly. “Saving the world is a tough burden to shoulder and no one would blame you if you didn’t want to.”

Ellie shakes her head, “I need to. It’s what I need to do. I need to save someone. I couldn’t save my friend. She - she got bit when I did and I - I have to save someone. Even if it’s one person.” She murmurs, closing her eyes for a second.

You reach out for her, patting her hand gently. “I understand.” You promise. “I feel guilty now, I got to keep my child and raise him, while Joel lost his.” You sigh softly. “Life sucks sometimes, huh?”

She snorts, “yeah. It does. So…Joel’s got a kid?” She asks and you nod, “yeah. He’s just like him sometimes.” Ellie whistles, “oh boy. That’s gonna be interesting to see.” You giggle, “he has his father’s stubbornness. Something I’m sure you know.” You nudge her and she nods, “abso-fucking-lutely.”

The two of you sit in the silence for another moment until Ellie clears her throat. “What was he like before? Before the outbreak?” She asks curiously. 

You smile, thinking about that time fondly. “Hard working. A flirt.” You giggle quietly when Ellie makes a disgusted face. “He was a single father, so he did everything for Sarah. Loved music, loved, loved going out where live bands were playing classic rock. And a surprisingly good dancer.”

Ellie’s eyes widen, “Joel used to dance? No fucking way!” She shakes her head and you nod, “he was good.” She can’t believe it but she knows that the harsh man he is today isn’t the same man he was before he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Joel…dancing.” She trails off and snorts, “can’t believe it.”

You hum, trying to remember that Ellie only knows the man after the heartbreak. “Joel wants to come back to Jackson, after you’re done saving the world.” You tell her. “Maybe you’ll come back with him?”

Ellie nods, "I would like to but this is important. The cure. A possible cure. I need to do what I can." She declares and you nod, "let's get you back to Tommy's. I'm sure you want to sleep in a proper bed." Ellie grins, "fuck yeah."

You insist on walking Ellie. It doesn’t matter that Jackson is safe. She feels lost and alone and you want her to know that she isn’t. That she has someone who will look after her. When you round the corner and Tommy’s comes into sight, the house next door has a single light on upstairs and you can see a figure pacing in front of the windows. “Joel is still awake.”

Ellie turns to you, "thanks for...well, you know." She shrugs and you reach out to squeeze her shoulder. "I am always here. I'll be here if you decide to come back." You promise and she surges forward to hug you. "Thank you." She whispers, squeezing you for a second before she pulls away and makes her way into Tommy's house. You look up at the window where Joel is pacing, wondering what he's thinking, and you turn on your heel to head home. Joel needs time to process and so do you.

**** You don’t sleep well, up before the sun and you get dressed in the dark while JJ snores away down the hall. Making your way to the stables with the hope that you didn’t miss Joel and Ellie leaving. Despite what the teenager told you, you know that Joel wouldn’t be satisfied unless he saw it through. He was the one that delivered her safely to the doctors for a cure.

****

Joel pats the horse as he finishes strapping on the saddlebags when Ellie arrives with Tommy in the stable. His dark eyes flick to where you are standing with JJ behind them. "You ready to go, kid?" He asks Ellie, not wanting to address the elephant in the room.

You step out from the stall, holding Joel’s bag as you smirk, Ellie immediately choosing Joel over Tommy as her travel companion. You had found Joel thinking about sneaking away and unable to do it, especially when he had seen you had come to see him off. “Told ya.” You tell the younger girl, pleasantly surprised to see JJ with them.

Joel doesn't let his happiness show on his face. The kid picked him. His heart nearly bursts and he knows he has to protect her, see her to the end of her journey. Joel helps her onto the horse and he steps over to you, reaching for your hand. "I am going to come back...if you want me to."

You stare into his eyes and nod. “You better come back, Miller.” You threaten softly. “Keep her safe. She loves you.”

He nods, "I'll be back as soon as I can." He promises even though you both know deep down it's impossible to keep it when he's out in the wilderness. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his eyes closing as he breathes you in.

JJ shuffles, coming up beside you and when Joel pulls away, you see the worry in your son’s eyes. “When you come back, I’d like to- to, uh, talk.” He admits. “So, uh, try not to die?”

Joel snorts, reaching out to squeeze his son’s upper arm. “I’ll be back.” He promises just as much as he can to his son. “You keep each other safe, yeah?” He says and JJ nods, standing straighter. Joel’s eyes flick over to Tommy who offers him a nod and Joel steps back, swinging his leg over after placing his foot in the stirrup.

You help Ellie up, patting her leg gently and smiling at her. “Share the scones.” You remind her with a wink. She nods, although she’s pouting so you wonder if she had already eaten some and really didn’t want to share. Stepping back from the horse, you meet Joel’s eyes again and you smile at him. “Be safe.”

Joel offers you one more nod, kicking the flank of the horse as he starts to move, beginning the journey to Colorado and the venture back into the unknown. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen but he will fight tooth and nail to get back to you and JJ. He owes you his return so he can make up for leaving you that fateful night.

****

It’s summer and there still hasn’t been any sign of Joel. You’ve gone on the scouting parties, manned the walls, talked to everyone who had come back. It’s been months, and you are worried. Of course, you don’t say anything to JJ, not wanting to upset your son, but it shouldn’t have taken this long. A few weeks, a month at most. Something’s happened and you’ve been talking to Tommy about going out to look for them. He says no, but you need to.

Joel stumbles slightly as he and Ellie walk the final stretch back to Jackson. He’s filthy, exhausted, hungry, and the guilt hangs over him that he saves Ellie, but damned the world to continue to exist in this damned reality. He is about to approach the gates when Maria rides out on a horse with several others and her eyes widen at the sight of her brother in law. “Get them inside.” She demands, seeing how exhausted the pair are.

The knock at the door comes rushed, and you hurry, not sure who it might be. But your gasp of surprise is loud when you see Maria and Tommy with an exhausted and bedraggled Joel and Ellie. “You’re back!” You leap back to let them into the house and you can tell that it’s been a hard journey. “Oh god, are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“Both.” Ellie groans, her body aching from the arduous journey on foot and Joel reaches for you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into his chest. He knows he stinks but he just needs to know he’s alive, that he made it back to you.

“You’re here.” You sag in relief against him, almost in tears for how relieved you are. “Thought you might want them to stay with you.” Tommy speaks up and grins at you with a small wink. “I’ll send some clothes over for them both after they get a bath and sleep for a few days.”

Joel lets go of you, the weight of the word still on his shoulders and he hates how his eyes water with unshed tears. He turns his head away so no one sees and you distract Ellie, “you want a shower? We have hot water and I just made some new soap.” 

Ellie grins, “fuck yes.” She is ready to clean up and she follows you upstairs while you give Joel a minute. He looks at JJ and the boy steps forward to hug his father. He’s seen the worry in your eyes as you wait each day, watching to see if he would return and JJ realized that a man like that, a man that you would wait for, must be a man he could aspire to be. His uncle Tommy had explained more about what happened that night and he understands a little more about how Joel felt, how torn he had been to make the decision to leave you. Joel is shocked but pats the boy’s back, comforting his son. The son he now can get to know properly.

Upstairs, Ellie gives you a big hug. Just as emotional as the one Joel had given you and despite the fact that she desperately needs a bath, you kiss the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re back, kiddo.” You murmur softly, squeezing her tight. You are glad to see her, just as much as Joel, the girl meaning the world to your former lover. The man you still love.

JJ steps back, clearing his throat, and Joel offers him a small smile, knowing it’s got to be hard for him to process all of this shit. Ellie is showering so Joel hovers until JJ escorts him to the kitchen, preparing him a drink and starts on something to eat.

You set a set of pajamas down on the bed that Ellie will use. The house is a three bedroom and you always keep the other room ready for anyone that might need it. She can claim it forever for all you care, although you aren’t sure if Joel wants to share a room or a bed with you. You come downstairs and smile at JJ cooking. “You want me to finish up?”

JJ shakes his head, "I got it, mom." You nod and look over at Joel who is sipping a glass of water. "You want something stronger? Tommy gave me a bottle of whiskey for my birthday." You declare and Joel sighs softly, "I missed so many birthdays." He looks over at JJ, wondering how his birthdays were as a kid.

“You’re here for them now.” You remind him softly, aware that no matter what he wishes, you can’t turn back time. You walk over to a cabinet to pull out a couple of glasses and change your mind and get three. Your son can have a drink with his father. You smile as you get the ice and move over to the table. “I’ll grab the bottle.”

Joel watches you as you move around the kitchen. You’re still fucking gorgeous and he feels so lucky to have found you again, that you didn’t die that night. You pour three measures and slide the glass over to Joel and you look over at JJ just as he turns off the stove. “Here you go.” You nudge the glass towards him and he raises his eyebrows, “you sure, mom?”

“You’re old enough.” You promise, grinning at him. “I think it’s a right of passage to have a drink with your dad.” You tell him, pulling out a seat and sitting down.

JJ grins, shifting to sit down and he picks up the glass. He sniffs the liquid and winces, making Joel chuckle slightly. “To survivin’.” He toasts, knowing that the only thing anyone wants is to survive but it looks like you and JJ have been thriving in Jackson.

“To surviving.” You agree, holding your glass up and JJ does the same. You take a sip of your drink and your son follows his father’s example and tosses back the entire thing. It’s funny to watch him choke and sputter, a light hearted moment for you to share.

Joel smirks at the boy struggling to drink the harsh liquor and he winks at his son who looks down at the table in embarrassment. “The food is ready.” JJ announces and Joel clears his throat, “I should shower first.” You shake your head, “don’t be silly. The food is hot. Shower after. I’ll go get Ellie.” Joel nods and pours himself another glass, needing it after he nearly died out there.

You stand up and move to the staircase so you can get the younger girl, finding her coming out onto the landing. “Dinner is ready. I know you have to be ready for a hot meal.”

Joel watches JJ serve up the food and he sets the plates down on the table just as Ellie comes downstairs. The guilt swirls in Joel’s stomach. He lied to her. He did it for his own selfish reasons. He swallows harshly and sets the glass down just as Ellie sits down at the table. “Taking a shower with hot water is the fucking best.”

You laugh and nod as you sit down. “I agree. Getting electricity back has been amazing for us. Hot baths do wonders for cramps too.” You inform her with a wink.

Ellie flushes but offers you a small smile, picking up the fork so she can dig into the first hot meal she’s had for weeks. Joel watches JJ dig in and his eyes flit over to you, knowing he still needs to talk to you. He’s had a lot of time to think during the long journey and he realized during the moments that he nearly died that he doesn’t want to keep living in the past.

“Is something missing?” You ask, making Joel shake his head as he picks up his fork. “No.” He assures you, digging in. You smile and watch as Ellie clears her plate quickly. “There’s more.” You promise, nodding towards the stove. “Take as much as you want. There’s plenty for everyone.”

Joel eats enough until he feels sick. He doesn’t want to make himself sick, or to waste the food. He stands up, ready to clean the dishes when JJ places a hand on his shoulder. “I got it, dad.” He says and Joel’s heart clenches at the word. He nods and reaches up to touch his son’s hand. “I better shower.” Joel says, suddenly feeling the grime on his skin.

You nod and push back from your place. “I’ll show you.” You offer quickly, ignoring a smirk from Ellie. You only want to show him to the master bathroom and lay out some sweats and underwear that the long dead last owner of the home had left behind. They were soft and fresh, you kept the clothes in a cedar lined trunk after washing them, knowing they might be useful.

Joel follows you up the stairs and into the master bedroom, past the bed you sleep in to enter the bathroom. You turn on the shower for him and he sits on the toilet so he can remove his boots and socks. Wiggling his toes in relief, he works on shrugging off his shirts.

“Oh my god!” You gasp when his chest is revealed, a torn, jagged wound in his side that is most definitely fresh on display. “Fuck. What happened?” You demand, moving over to him and touching the ragged scar gently. It’s obvious it had been stitched closed, but it’s still very tender looking in your opinion.

He winces, “I - I got stabbed. We got to Denver and no one was there. Well, that’s what I thought. Raiders were there. They found us and before we could escape, one of them stabbed me with a broken baseball bat and I nearly died. Ellie - she saved me but she was taken and she nearly - the leader. He nearly - I failed her again.” Joel finishes in a whisper, his head dropping between his shoulders.

“Oh shit….” You whisper softly, imagining the horrors she had endured until Joel had rescued her. “But you got her back. You saved her.” Joel snorts and shakes his head. “She saved herself.” He argues and you know there is more to it than that. “And how many did you kill to get to her?”

Joel exhales shakily, “they were gonna- she hasn’t been the same since. He took something from her. Thank fuck he didn’t touch her but he changed her. When we got to the doctor. They were going to kill her. Take her goddamn brain out and I- I couldn’t let them do it. I kept thinking about Sarah and how I couldn’t save her but I could try and save Ellie. I was fuckin’ selfish. I saved her over the world possibly getting a cure and she would hate me. I told her that there wasn’t a cure. I couldn’t let her die.” He chokes, reaching up to rub his eyes.

You try to keep up with his rambling explanation and all you really understand is that he saved her from dying and the world was going to continue on. “Oh my god.” You sit back on your heels in front of him and shake your head after a moment. “You saved her, Joel. Her life matters and if a doctor was going to take her brain? Well, they are wrong. Jesus.” You huff. “Ethics went to shit in this world, I know, but doctors? They aren’t supposed to murder people for some hypothetical cure. What if it’s just not possible? They would have killed an amazing kid for fucking nothing. Nothing. You weren’t selfish. You were being her protector. Her dad.”

Joel swallows, “I lied to her. Told her there was no cure. I couldn’t tell her that I saved her because I was selfish. That she didn’t get a damn choice because I can’t live without her.” He lowers his hands and looks at you, “I can’t lose anyone else.”

“You don’t have to.” You promise quietly, even though you can’t guarantee him anything. You couldn’t even guarantee him that in the old world you both knew.

He closes his eyes again, “I never stopped loving you, you know? Even when I thought you were dead. No one could ever replace you in my heart. The woman I was with in the QZ…Tess…I could never give her all of me and she knew it. I explained that I’d lost you and she understood.” He confesses, “I know…you might’ve moved on but I just want you to know that I will always love you.”

“Joel….” You know that he might blame himself for living once you tell him this, but you feel like he should know. “There’s never been anyone but you.” You murmur softly. “I had JJ, I had a piece of you, I didn’t need anything else.” You reach under your shirt and pull out the necklace he had given you not too long before the world ended. “I kept this close the entire time and never stopped loving you. That’s why I wouldn’t let Tommy tell you I was alive. You were happy, I thought.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the sight of the small gold heart still around your neck that Joel had gotten you for Valentine’s Day before the outbreak. “God, baby.” He reaches out to caress the gold heart until he lets go of it and reaches up to caress your cheek. “Can you shower with me?” He asks, not wanting to let you go just yet.

The request isn’t sexual, but it is intimate. Still, you don’t hesitate to nod. You don’t want to let him go and you can help him clean up. He’s exhausted and worn down. In need of some tenderness, something you can provide. “Let me help you.” You agree quietly.

Joel nods, relieved that he can finally let go of the tension that’s been coiled inside of his body for so long. He stands up, reaching for his belt to remove it and he pushes his tattered jeans down along with the threadbare boxers, standing naked in front of you for the first time in decades.

He’s older, softer slightly than he had been when he was in his thirties, but he’s still handsome. His body had somehow gotten broader, there’s still strength rather than weakness. You stand up and slowly start to undress yourself. Still watching him as he keeps his eyes on you. Your heart beating faster and your body tingling.

He watches you strip off and his stomach twists. You’re still so fucking gorgeous. Still so incredibly out of his league. You kick your clothes aside and reach in to check the water temperature. Joel groans as he steps into the shower, the hot water hitting his back and he watches blood and dirt swirl down the drain. “Let me clean off first.” He tells you, not wanting you to be in the dirty water.

You smile and just watch. Feeling yourself starting to get wet. This is the man you have longed to touch again for the past twenty years. The man you’ve loved for all that time. Your attraction to him hasn’t faded, it’s still as sharp as it was the last time you touched him, the day you made JJ. Joel groans slightly and his cock twitches, making you aware that you had been staring at it.

Joel watches you as you watch him, washing his hair as more grime flows down the drain. When he's certain he's clean, he reaches for you. "Come here, baby." He murmurs, helping you into the shower. He turns so you are under the water, and he reaches for the soap to wash you, his calloused hands gentle as he rubs your skin

“I should be washing you.” You murmur softly in protest, but Joel just huffs and continues to touch you. You can’t help the small groan of pleasure, always loving how he touched you and it’s been sorely missed since you had been apart.

"I have missed out on far too much. Leaving you in that truck...I should've tried harder to save you. Maybe Sarah would still be alive if I had." He voices a thought that has haunted him since he found out you are alive. "I've lost so much time with you...with JJ."

“I never blamed you.” You promise, reaching up and caressing his shoulders. “You did the best you could that night. You were - you didn’t run off because you were afraid. I know you didn’t want to leave me, baby.”

Joel sighs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours while the hot water hits your back. “I still love you. Never stopped.” He confesses, his hands caressing your back, pulling you closer so you are pressed against him. His cock is half hard between you, pressing against your hip.

“I still love you too.” You promise. “I told you, it’s always been you, baby.” You close your eyes and sigh, enjoying the closeness between you. “Do you want to get some rest? I know you have to be exhausted. You and Ellie are safe now, you can sleep.”

"Yeah." His voice is gruff, rough with lust for you. "I want - I want you first. If you want that." He sounds unsure but he doesn't want to push you into anything.

Your cunt clenches and you nod. “I want you too.” You confess. “Let’s go to bed. I want you to relax and let me ride you again. Like the last time.”

Joel nods, reaching behind you to shut off the water and he twists so he can grab a towel, wrapping you in it before grabbing his own to dry off. He feels so much better now that he's clean and he's exhausted but he also wants you. He needs you.

You set out a tooth brush for Joel, knowing that it feels amazing after being able to brush your teeth and you quickly grab your own. You’re sure that after you have sex, Joel will fall asleep.

He grabs the toothbrush, scrubbing his teeth until he feels satisfied that they are clean. He looks at you in the mirror, watching you do the same thing and it's like a flashback to a time when getting ready was a normal occurrence between you. He spits and rinses his mouth and you do the same. When you turn off the faucet, he cups your cheeks and leans in to kiss you, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

You whimper into his mouth. Not caring that you are still in towels, you turn to guide him back to the bedroom. Wanting to feel him inside you again. Groaning and reaching for the towel at his waist so you can pull it off him. “I love you.” You gasp when he pulls back.

Joel caresses your back, ripping the towel from your body to toss it to the floor and he spins to lay you down on the bed. He's been gone for so long, there's not enough kisses he can press to your skin to make up for his absence, for leaving you. He kisses you again, hovering over your body, and he migrates his kisses down your neck. Pressing a kiss to the gold of your necklace, he continues his journey until he's taking your nipple into his mouth.

It’s been a long time since your breasts carried milk, but you feel as if Joel is trying to feed from you. Moaning, you sink your fingers into his wet hair and arch your back to let him explore as he wants.

He sucks on your nipple, biting and licking at the bud until he’s satisfied and he kisses down your stomach. Lathing extra attention on the faded stretch marks that display where you carried his son inside of you. “Fuck, I love you.” He chokes, pushing your thighs apart so he can settle between them.

"Joel." You shiver in anticipation. It's been a long goddamn time since you've had pleasure that didn't come at your own fingertips, over twenty years. Oral had been a favorite of yours and Joel had always been amazing at eating pussy. "Baby, you don't have to- I know you are tired."

“I want to.” He promises, leaning in to nudge his nose at the neatly trimmed curls at the apex of your thighs. He breathes you in and caresses your thighs, leaning closer to slide his tongue through your folds. He groans at the familiar heady taste of your arousal, and he lifts his gaze to watch you as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

With a groan, your head slips back on the pillow a little, already overstimulated by just the first licks of his tongue. "Oh shit." You whimper, reaching down and running your fingers through his hair as he slowly savors you. Even though things have changed, he's obviously the same when it comes to giving you attention.

He sucks on your clit and slides his tongue lower to push inside of you, his nose pressing against your clit. His hand slides up to squeeze your breast, wanting you to fall apart before you take him inside of you for the first time in twenty years. He loves the way your fingers tug on his hair, still wet from the shower, and he groans into your flesh.

You can’t help the way your hips start to rock down onto his face. Grinding down on his tongue and moaning softly. He squeezes your breast again, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. He remembers how you like a little pain with your pleasure.

Joel curls his tongue inside of you, shaking his head so you are stimulated more. He wants you to cum for him, to make up for lost time. His other hand reaches for yours, squeezing it as he slides his tongue through your folds.

All you hear is your own panting moans and the slick sounds of Joel’s tongue as he laps at your clit. Making you bite your lip and whimper as your orgasm looms close. “Joel-“ you whine. “I’m so close.”

He flicks his tongue over your clit a little faster, wrapping his lips around your clit to send you over the edge. He desperately wants you to cum for him, to taste you again.

You don’t cum with a scream, it’s not ripping through you like a freight train. It floods your body with pleasure and makes your body tighten, shaking silently as you gasp. It’s better than anything you’ve had in so long and your stomach heaves in pleasure.

He works you through it, lapping at your cum, and he loves how you run your fingers through his hair, pulling on it as your hips jerk. "I fucking love you." He murmurs, kissing along your thigh.

Panting quietly, you can’t help but giggle. “I love you too.” You promise. “Do you want to fuck me, or do you want me to ride you?” You ask breathlessly, greedy for more of him. Ready to feel full and complete for the first time in twenty years.

"I want to fuck you." He murmurs, kissing along your body until he's hovering over you. His lips find yours as he kneels between your legs. He reaches down to squeeze his cock, positioning himself at your entrance, and he starts to push inside of you.

You would close your eyes, but you want his rugged face etched into your mind. Watching the weathered brow and eyes that have been haunting you as he sinks into you. Your legs hitch up at his waist so he can push deeper, whining softly at the gorgeous stretch of him inside you.

He closes his eyes, taking in the feel of your hot, wet heat surrounding him. He leans in to kiss your chin, his breath mingling with yours. “I love you.” He murmurs, starting to move inside of you.

“I love you too.” You gasp out softly, holding onto his shoulders and giving into the urge to close your eyes. It’s perfect and slow. Both of you are older and you’ve got all the time in the world tonight. There’s just the two of you here. You know JJ will show Ellie her room if you don’t make it back downstairs and all of you are safe here. You’re safe and back together.

He doesn’t rush. He takes his time moving inside of you. Yes, he’s overwhelmed with his emotions because you are the love of his life and he’s got you back. He’s back in your arms and he doesn’t plan on leaving. He’s safe. Ellie is safe. He can get to know his son. It’s more than he can handle but he inhales deeply and kisses along your jaw, enjoying the way you caress his back.

You move together, sedately and lovingly. You let him kiss you all over, but you prefer when his lips are pressed against yours and his cock is buried deep inside you. You rock together slowly, and your fingers learn the new scars and marks on your lover’s body.

He’s in no rush but it’s been a while since he was inside someone, especially the woman he loves so much. “I love you, darlin’.” He murmurs again, sliding his hand between you so he can rub your clit.

One his side, he can see all of you. He can touch you as you need him to. Not that you can’t cum from his cock alone but you are happy that he cares about your pleasure. “I love you. I love you so much. Always dreamed of having you back like this.”

Joel groans, rubbing your clit a little faster as your words wash over him. “That’s it, baby. Want you to cum for me.” He murmurs against your chin. He rocks into you a little harder, needing to hear and see you fall apart beneath him.

It’s almost too much, the way he rocks into you and he also touches you. “Joel, Joel.” You moan quietly, starting to shake and quiver under him. “I’m going to cum baby.”

He feels your walls fluttering around his cock and he groans, pushing into you until you’re clenching down around his cock. “That’s it. Fuck, such a good girl for me. Shit, feel so good. So tight.” He coos into your ear and works you through it. His hand drops from your clit and he grabs your hip, shifting to lay down. “Want you to ride me when you can.” He demands, letting you slump against him as you enjoy your orgasm.

You hum, throwing your leg over his waist and shifting to straddle him. “You want me to ride you?” You lean down and press your lips to his as you reach between you and line up with his cock to sink down onto it. You moan his name quietly as the new angle presents a much fuller feeling.

“Fuck.” He pants, his dark eyes taking you in as you start to rock on top of him. “I’ve missed you. I missed you every goddamn night in my dreams. Imagined what could’ve been if it weren’t for the fucking outbreak.” He confesses, sliding his hands up to cup your tits. “Imagined what you’d look like pregnant. Bet you were fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Ha.” You snort and kiss his chin. “I was waddling around. He was a big baby.” You don’t mention how scared you had been, how dangerous it had been for everyone around while you were pregnant. You were slower and ungainly, some of the men overly protective and others wanting to leave you behind. Still, you prevailed. You’re here and that’s where you want to be.

“Wish I had been there to see it. To protect you.” He murmurs, looking at you with sad eyes as his hands slide down to caress your waist, sliding around to squeeze your ass. “I wish I had been there for you.”

“You’re here now.” You remind him softly. “That’s all that matters.” You slowly rock on him, peppering his face with kisses as you caress his arms and chest. “We are together again, that’s all that matters.”

He sighs, knowing he can’t keep dwelling on the past. He knows that. He kisses you, helping you rock on top of him by squeezing your ass. “Want you to cum again for me.” He murmurs, “cum with me.” He demands with a slight whine, wanting you to fall apart around him.

“Still so greedy.” You tease quietly, rocking onto him faster, and feeling the way his cock twitches up inside you. You know that he’s had past lovers before, but you don’t worry about that now. Now, you are with him and you want to do exactly as he wants. You want to cum for him. “Play with my tits.” You beg quietly.

He obeys, his hands cupping your tits. He squeezes them. “Cum for me, baby.” He demands, pinching your nipples. He desperately wants you to cum for him, to feel you clamp down on his cock again.

It takes just a minute more, mouth hanging open slightly and you moan, your walls tightening around him. Soaking him with a wave of your juices as you groan out his name. “Joel! Shit- so good.”

He grunts when you clamp down onto him, making him thrust up into you. You fall forward onto his chest and he hisses when he starts to twitch inside of you. Cum spurts out of his cock to cost your walls and he lets out a strangled groan of your name as he fills you up.

You would have worried about him cumming inside you, fearful of another pregnancy, but you had stopped having a menstrual cycle a few years ago. Instead, you moan softly and close your eyes, pressing your lips to his.

Joel caresses your back, reveling in how you feel around him, above him. “I love you.” He murmurs, knowing that he is finally where he belongs. Back in your arms and he’s safe. Ellie is safe. He doesn’t have to fight anymore. He can stay in Jackson and create a life with you, get to know his son. It’s more than he could’ve ever asked for. He smiles against your lips and you lean back, looking at him. “What?” You chuckle, “nothing. Just - I’m happy.” He confesses and you caress his cheek. “Me too.” You whisper, knowing that nothing will get the time back that you lost out on with Joel but you have him now. Now, you get to be together. The way it was always supposed to be.

[yoitsjay]

batboys and brat taming reader who is their best friend(whom they treat like a sugar baby) 👀

The wording confused me a little bit but I think I got it-

I'll take care of you.

Summary: your a brat, a best friend, and a pampered little whore. What else could you want?

Warnings: alluding to smut but none written, spoiling you rotten

Bruce Wayne:

You had known ol’ Brucie a long time. You liked to think of your friendship with him as quite stereotypical. A rich kid who befriends the poor, lowlife kid of a criminal who somehow managed to go to Gotham Academy.

Ever since you were children Bruce always took care of you, he supported you in whatever career path you chose, and when things didn't work out, you could always fall back on him and he would deal with it all. He'd offer multiple times for you to come live at the manor with him but you refused every time. (the bratty part of you just wanted to rile him up and see when he'd snap)

As you two got older, your friendship never wavered, in fact it only got stronger… and that's when the benefits really attached itself to the friends label. Bruce began refusing no for an answer, especially after a really rough run in with one of your abusive exes. He dragged your ass to the manor and set you up with a room, he started paying off any debts you owed, and he got you anything and everything you could ever want.

Yet you were still a brat… he could handle it though, because in the end he knew that your loyalty was his, and he would never betray that trust. He never wanted to lose you.

Dick Grayson:

Whether you were a family friend, or some stranger he saved / met on the street, you and Dick had become really close friends in such a short amount of time. You were both bratty in a way, and each had your fair share of breakups that you could complain about to each other.

You and Dick had a routine where you'd get together after each breakup, either at his house or at yours. You would show up with ice cream, snacks and other things.

and by the end of the night he'd have his cock shoved up your cunt, or your mouth and you both let out your frustrations.

Dick also spoiled the shit out of you. He paid your bills, and was more than happy to do so, he also bought you whatever you wanted, similar to Bruce, and you didn't even have to ask for half the things that he gifted you.

You didnt concider yourself a sugar baby, not until your friends were gossiping about Dick, and told you that he either wanted you to be his girlfriend, or he wanted to keep fucking you, so he spoiled you to gain favor.

either way you shrugged. “And in the end my bills are paid, i have no debt, and i'm happy and have an awesome friend. Sugar baby, girlfriend, I'm taken care of either way.” You told them, and they just laughed and carried on.

In terms of brattiness, he's the brat, always whining, clawing at you for attention, you gotta put that boy on a leash just to get a break, though you found a way to get him to do what you want…

just a spread of the legs.

Jason Todd:

He has no time for brats, he's a busy man, and he could easily have anyone else to have fun with, but he wanted you, wanted to hang out with you. You were Jason’s friend for who knows how long, so he learned how to deal with your attitude long ago.

Food, most of the time, more often than not, something shoved in your mouth… like his fingers… or his cock.

Just something to suck on, that's all you needed to be satisfied.

Though, he always goes out of his way to make you feel good too, maybe he doesn't spoil you with material items, i feel like Jason is a bit more sentimental, so instead he takes you out to nice restaurants, amusement parks, rage rooms lazer tag- anything and anywhere as long as he gets to spend time with you.

He has no need for a girlfriend either, because he has you, his best friend that he gets to fuck- whats better than that.

Tim Drake:

You're his assistant at Wayne Enterprises, you had been working under him for the past couple of years, since you were about 16 and started your internship there. You both went to the Academy too, so it was easy for you and Tim to fall into a routine together. He'd come to your place and pick you up every morning, you'd get coffee then go to school on the weekdays, then when you worked on the weekends he would come pick you up again, and instead you'd go to work.

You were and are the best damn assistant he's ever had, you had a fiery spirit and didn't let anyone talk down to you, you made people see you as an equal, always. Even Bruce appreciated the way you stood up for yourself and those around you.

You were also attentive to all of Tim’s needs. Yeah that's what an assistant did, but you did way more. And because of the things you did, he would give you constant pay raises, or bonuses for your hard work… Then he started picking up little nick nacks that he knew you liked, he started paying attention to your coffee order, and he'd go buy you coffee.

Best part was, you didn't even notice that he was spoiling you, but your coworkers sure did, and they started the gossip train about you being Tim’s sugar baby.

When it finally reached yours and Tim’s ears, you kind of gave each other a look from across the office.

And then you fell into another rhythm… every day at 2 o’clock during his facetime meeting, you'd be under his desk…

if you could make him break, he’d give you his black card.

This was an arrangement you could get behind.

Damian Wayne:

For some reason you caught his eye. Don't worry, it baffled him too. He didn't understand why he found you so exhilarating.

He hated it.

He talked to you, but he'd degrade you,make fun of you, every chance he got, but he'd always use it as an excuse to get close to you.

When it was time for the senior dance, he found out that you had a few guys asking for you to be their date.

He didn't like that.

One day in the hallway, he walked up to you and he practically shoved you into the lockers. “your going to be my date to senior prom.” He demanded.

You stared at him, an unimpressed look across your face. He stammered. “I- i mean…will- will you go to senior prom with me?” he corrected his sentence-

corrected his sentence! what have you done to him?? This cold, bratty batboy, the richest kid in gotham- and he was groveling at your feet from just one look on your face.

You've reduced him to- to… a simp.

Blasphemy.

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi @only-my-unexistent-fiances

Batfam:

BW: @ilaiise

DG: @ilaiise

JT: @ilaiise

TD: @ilaiise

DW: @ilaiise

[rootedinrevisions]

Worth More than Gold

SUMMARY: Glen Powell has asked you, his long-time friend and secret crush to be his date to the Golden Globes. The evening is filled with glitz, glamour, and the intoxicating spark of possibilities - both on the red carpet and behind the scene. And at the end of the day Glen may not have won the Golden Globe, but he just might have won something better—you.

A/N: Glen's look at the Golden Globes did things to me and gave me so many ideas. This will probably be the last fic I do for the GG and I'm going to try to get back on track with my WIPs and Requests.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think! I love seeing your comments and reblogs! I seriously smile and get all giddy like a little kid when I get a notification from you guys so please let me know what I think.

WORD COUNT: 10.8k

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The hotel room was a whirlwind of chaos, a perfect reflection of Glen’s pre-event energy. The plush carpet was littered with tissue paper from a last-minute gift delivery, a shoe box sat abandoned near the bed, and the sleek black tie Glen had decided to forego tonight was somehow draped over a lampshade.

Glen himself was in the middle of the room, pacing in socks and dress pants, his phone pressed to his ear. “Listen, I’m just saying, Texas football isn’t a sport—it’s a religion,” he declared, his Texas drawl warming the edges of his words. “And if the Longhorns take the game against Ohio State this week, we’re coming for that national title.”

He paused, evidently listening to the journalist on the other end of the call, then grinned as he gestured animatedly with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know you want to talk about the nomination. But did you see last weekend’s game? That last play in the second overtime?”

Across the room, you sat curled on the couch, scrolling through your phone but only half-paying attention to the screen. Watching Glen charm his way through an interview about his career or recent projects while managing to somehow steer the conversation to Texas football was nothing new.

“Cufflinks,” said Warren, the stylist ensuring Glen looked red-carpet ready. Warren stood to the side, arms crossed with the patience of someone who’d dealt with a dozen “Glen Powells” before.

“They’re in the pocket of your tux,” you called without looking up, your voice laced with playful exasperation. “Right where I told you I put them earlier.”

Glen froze mid-gesture, patting down his pants pocket first before moving to his jacket. When his fingers closed around the cufflinks, he shot you a sheepish grin. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” he mouthed, before turning his attention back to his call. “Listen, I gotta wrap this up. Can I call you tomorrow and we’ll finish this?” he asked the journalist.

With that, he hung up and turned to the room, raking a hand through his neatly-styled hair. “You believe this?” He said, grinning as he pocketed his phone. “I’m on deadline and trying to get out the door for one of the biggest nights of my life. And GQ wants to talk about…wardrobe and clothes and who I’m wearing.”

Warren arched a brow, adjusting the velvet Armani jacket on its hanger. “Wardrobe is why I’m here, Glen,” he said with a grin. “Now, if you could refrain from wrinkling this masterpiece, we might actually get you to the event looking like a winner.”

You snorted, rising from the couch. “Poor you,” you teased, brushing imaginary lint off your own shirt. “Must be so hard being adored by millions while wearing designer clothes.”

Glen rolled his eyes and snorted, stepping closer as the stylist fussed with his cummerbund. “Hey, I’m counting on you to keep me sane tonight,” he said, half-serious as he began to tug at the cuffs of his shirt. “You’re my buffer.”

“Buffer?” you repeated, arching a brow. “That’s what I’m here for? Not moral support—just as a human barrier between you and Hollywood?”

“Exactly,” he deadpanned, his grin widening. “You’re overqualified for the job, though.”

You stepped forward, brushing imaginary lint from his shirt, your fingers moving with practiced ease over the slick fabric. Glen watched you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Okay, be honest,” he said, tilting his chin slightly. “One button or two undone? What’s the vibe tonight?”

You paused, letting your gaze drop to the open collar of his shirt, catching a glimpse of the chest hair peeking out.

“One,” you said decisively, reaching up to fasten the second button. “Two buttons undone is too much chest hair. You’re going to a red carpet, not auditioning for a ‘70s cop show.”

He laughed, the rich sound filling the room as he placed his hands on his hips. “Hey, my chest hair is a crowd-pleaser,” he countered, feigning offense. “You don’t know how many compliments I’ve gotten on this chest.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a laugh. “Please never say that to me again.”

He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. “Admit it. You’re just jealous you can’t pull this off.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a playful tug. “Oh, please. If I wanted to show off chest hair, I’d buy a faux-fur vest and call it a day.”

“Savage,” he said, clutching his chest as though you’d wounded him. “You’ve got jokes tonight, huh?”

“Somebody has to keep your ego in check,” you replied, stepping back to inspect your work. “And you make it so easy.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he tugged at the cuffs of his shirt. “Well, I’ll have you know, Warren said I was rocking this look,” he said, gesturing toward the stylist, who was busy folding tissue paper into one of the garment bags.

Warren didn’t even look up. “Warren also said to stop touching your shirt or you’ll wrinkle it,” he replied dryly, earning a snort from you and an exaggerated groan from Glen.

“Fine,” Glen said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “No more touching. But if I get to the carpet and I’m not turning heads, I’m blaming you.”

“Oh, you’ll turn heads,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a once-over. “If not for the suit, then definitely for whatever ridiculous sound bite you give on the carpet. You’re physically incapable of being boring, remember?”

He grinned, stepping closer so the space between you was almost nonexistent. “Is that a compliment?” he asked, his voice dipping slightly.

You tilted your head, refusing to let him win. “Don’t get used to it, Cowboy.”

“Ah, there it is,” he said, leaning back with a laugh. “The nickname. I knew it was coming.”

You shrugged. “If the boots fit…”

Glen slid the custom velvet Armani tux jacket over his broad shoulders, the deep midnight-black fabric catching the light in subtle, luxurious waves. He tugged at the lapels, ensuring everything was sitting perfectly, before stepping back with an air of casual confidence.

“Well?” he asked, doing a quick spin on his heels, arms spread out theatrically. “What do you think? Too much? Not enough?”

You leaned back slightly, arms crossed, pretending to appraise him critically, but your expression betrayed you. Your eyes swept over him, taking in every detail—the sharp tailoring that hugged his frame perfectly, the structured cut of the jacket emphasizing his frame, and the way the silk shirt beneath hinted at the faintest trail of chest hair.

The stylist had done a remarkable job on his hair, taming the usual tousled locks into something sleek yet effortlessly natural. And the stubble—God, the stubble. He hadn’t bothered to shave completely, leaving just enough scruff to lend him a rugged edge that, if you were honest, made him look even more attractive.

The all-black ensemble was a bold choice, but it worked. The mix of textures—the smooth silk of the shirt, the luxurious velvet of the jacket, and the matte sheen of the tailored trousers—created a look that was polished yet unmistakably Glen.

“You clean up nice,” you finally said, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you took him in from head to toe. “I mean, you almost look like a proper gentleman.”

“Almost?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as he turned back toward the mirror, pretending to check himself out.

“Well, the stubble kind of ruins the whole gentleman thing,” you quipped, biting back a laugh.

“Ruin it?” Glen turned to face you again, his voice dripping with mock offense. “The stubble is the pièce de résistance, thank you very much.” He ran a hand over his jaw, grinning when he saw the way your gaze briefly followed the movement.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “Sure it is. But seriously, you look good, Glen. The best I’ve seen you look in a while.”

For a moment, his grin softened, and his eyes caught yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, more sincerely this time. “You’re going to knock ‘em dead tonight.”

He held your gaze for a beat longer than usual, something unreadable flickering in his expression before he broke the moment with his signature charm. “Well, I have to. You’re the one who’ll have to be seen with me all night. Can’t embarrass you on your first red carpet.”

You glanced at the clock and froze. Less than an hour until you were supposed to be ready and out the door. Helping Glen finish getting ready had been fun—maybe a little too fun, you realized now, as time ticked away faster than you’d expected.

“I need to go get ready,” you said abruptly, stepping back and pointing toward the door.

Glen smirked, his hands casually adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “Go on, Cinderella. Clock’s ticking.”

Without another word, you bolted for your room next door, already running through a mental checklist of what needed to happen to make yourself red carpet-ready in under an hour. Once inside, you kicked the door shut behind you and headed straight for the bathroom. Flicking on the light, you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Okay. Hair. Makeup. Dress. You could do this. Right?

You pulled your hair loose from the lazy ponytail it had been in all day, raking your fingers through it and trying to decide if it would look better up or down. Your eyes darted to the neckline of the dress still hanging on the back of the closet door, but you didn’t have time to figure out how to make everything match. You groaned, pressing your hands to your face.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“Hello?” you called out, cautiously heading toward the door and cracking it open.

Standing there were two members of Glen’s glam squad—one holding a bag of makeup brushes and palettes, the other with a small suitcase of hair tools.

“Mr. Powell asked us to check on you,” the makeup artist said with a kind smile. “He thought you might be running behind.”

You blinked at them, momentarily speechless. “He... sent you?”

The hairstylist nodded. “He figured you might need a little help. Mind if we come in?”

You stepped aside to let them in, still processing Glen’s uncanny ability to predict you’d be panicking. “Sorry about the mess,” you admitted, glancing at the clock again. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Don’t worry,” the makeup artist said, already setting up her supplies on the bathroom counter. “We’ve got this. Can we see the dress? It’ll help us figure out the best look for you.”

You grabbed the garment bag from the closet and unzipped it, revealing the dress inside. You’d picked it out weeks ago, but standing there now, you suddenly second-guessed everything about it.

The hairstylist tilted his head thoughtfully, taking in the neckline and cut. “With this neckline, I’d suggest pulling your hair up—something elegant but not overdone. It’ll show off your shoulders and collarbone beautifully.”

You nodded, trusting his expertise. “That sounds perfect.”

“And for makeup,” the other stylist added, “we’ll keep it timeless—focus on your eyes, a little shimmer, and a soft lip. Nothing too bold, just enough to complement the dress and the hair.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, exhaling as you sat down.

With practiced efficiency, they got to work. The hairstylist began gathering your hair into an elegant style that framed your face while showcasing the neckline of the dress. Meanwhile, the makeup artist brushed soft gold tones onto your lids, added a touch of liner to define your eyes, and blended everything seamlessly. A quick swipe of lipstick finished the look.

You watched the transformation in the mirror, the tension slowly melting from your shoulders. By the time they stepped back to admire their handiwork, you felt like a completely different person.

“Done in thirty minutes, just like we promised,” the hairstylist said with a grin.

You stood, giving them both a grateful smile. “Thank you. Seriously, I wouldn’t have made it without you—or Glen, apparently.”

The makeup artist laughed. “He seemed pretty confident you’d need backup. Smart guy.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, thinking about his effortless charm and how much he looked out for you. “He really is.”

After the hairstylist and makeup artist left, you stood in front of the full-length mirror, a deep breath escaping your lips. You could do this.

You reached for the dress, still hanging from its garment bag, and carefully unzipped it. The soft fabric slid through your fingers as you pulled it off the hanger, feeling a flutter of nerves as you held it up in front of you.

The dress was simple, yet elegant, hugging every curve in a way that made you second-guess your choice. But it was beautiful.

With your heart racing a little, you slipped the dress on. You paused to glance at the mirror as you tugged the fabric up your body, hoping everything would fall into place.

But it didn’t.

The zipper snagged halfway up your lower back. You tugged a little harder, but it didn’t budge. Panic settled in your chest. You didn’t want to rip the fabric or make a scene, but there was no way to finish getting ready if you couldn’t zip the dress.

Your fingers fumbled for your phone, dialing Glen’s number before you could think twice. The seconds ticked by slowly, and your nerves only heightened with every ring.

“Hey, it’s me,” you said the moment he answered. Your voice trembled slightly despite your best efforts to sound calm. “I need help. The zipper on the dress is stuck, and I can’t get it up.”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming right over,” Glen’s voice was calm, reassuring. You could almost hear the smile in his tone.

The call ended quickly, and before you knew it, there was a soft knock at your door. You quickly pulled the front of the dress to your chest and peeked out, your eyes meeting Glen’s as you opened the door just a crack. His presence was as commanding as ever, but now, standing there, you felt exposed.

“Hey,” you greeted him, offering a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, raising an eyebrow. “Need a hand?”

You nodded, opening the door wider for him to step inside.

As he entered, you turned, giving him full view of the situation. The dress clung tightly to your body, and you were sure your back looked exposed in the tight fabric. A slight blush crept across your cheeks as your fingers instinctively tugged at the fabric.

“Relax,” Glen said, his tone warm and teasing. He moved behind you and gently grasped the zipper. 

After a few tugs and a bit of effort, he managed to get it unstuck, smoothly pulling it the rest of the way up. The dress fit perfectly once it was zipped all the way.

Glen stepped back with a satisfied nod, patting your hip gently. “All good. You’re all set now.”

You took a deep breath, your nerves slightly eased but still there. With a nervous smile, you smoothed the front of your dress down, trying to calm yourself before glancing back at him.

“Do I look okay?” you asked quietly, suddenly unsure of how you appeared.

Glen gave you a slow once-over, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than you expected. Then, his lips curved into a soft smile.

“You look amazing,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “Seriously. You’re going to steal the show tonight.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension in your chest easing. Glen’s words meant more than you realized, and as he gave you that smile, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

Once you were fully ready, feeling the weight of the evening ahead, Glen offered you a reassuring smile as he adjusted his jacket one last time. He gave you a soft nod, signaling that it was time to go.

Together, you left the suite, the sound of your heels echoing in the hallway as you walked side by side toward the elevator. Glen pressed the button, standing close enough to be a silent but steady presence. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he moved—like he was born to own every room he entered, even though his demeanor was always so grounded.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Glen stepped aside, letting you enter first. When you reached the lobby, the bustle of the hotel faded in comparison to the calm, quiet space Glen seemed to create around the two of you. He was the kind of person who moved with purpose, but never rushed—always thoughtful, always present.

As you made your way toward the entrance, he gave a quiet wave to a few people who greeted him, but he kept his focus on you, his hand close to your lower back as if guiding you through the crowd.

Outside, a sleek black car waited by the curb, the driver standing at attention. Glen held the door open for you with a courteous nod, his hand outstretched to assist you into the back seat.

You smiled, appreciating the little things—his attention to detail, the way he never made you feel like you were inconveniencing him. You slid into the seat, and as you did, Glen quickly followed, settling next to you with a quiet grace that was all him.

The driver closed the door, and the car began to move smoothly through the streets, the city lights reflecting off the tinted windows. The buzz of the evening began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, and Glen turned his attention to you with a soft look.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his tone light but sincere. He glanced down at your dress, the slight gleam in his eyes making you feel all the more seen. “You’re gonna turn heads tonight, no doubt about it.”

You smiled, trying to play it cool, but his words still made your stomach flutter. “I’m ready,” you said, your voice steady. 

The car glided through the streets, the hum of the engine and the soft clink of the streetlights outside giving you a sense of distance from the chaos of the night ahead. Your fingers nervously drummed on the fabric of your dress, your gaze flickering from the passing city lights to the reflection of yourself in the window.

Glen noticed the subtle tension in your posture and the way your fingers twitched, like they couldn’t quite settle. His sharp eyes, attuned to every little shift in your mood, moved over to you. He shifted closer, his hand reaching across the space between you with ease, brushing lightly over your fingers before gently taking your hand in his.

"You're going to be fine," he said, his voice low, teasing but gentle, as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His thumb brushed the back of your hand, smoothing away any remnants of tension. "Just smile and wave, Penguin. You’ve got this."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname, the warmth of his hand in yours bringing a little bit of ease. “Penguin?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow, feeling the tension in your shoulders release with that soft chuckle.

He grinned at you, the kind of smile that melted any nervous edge. “Yeah, Penguin. You know—Madagascar. Smile and wave boys. Smile and wave.” He gave your hand a playful tug, the humor in his eyes lighting up.

You shook your head, but the tension you’d carried with you slowly began to melt. Glen had that way about him—without even trying, he made things feel easy, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. His confidence was infectious, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that you could pull this off.

The car hit a smooth turn, the soft hum of the tires filling the silence. You glanced at Glen, his easy grin still in place, his hand steady in yours. There was something about his presence—something grounding, comforting. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as you let the last bits of tension drain away.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Glen glanced down at you, his expression softening. He didn’t move, didn’t shift away—he just stayed still, letting you rest there. His thumb continued its soothing motion across the back of your hand, and he tilted his head slightly toward yours.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice warm and steady. "You know I’ve got you."

For a moment, the world outside the car faded away. It was just the two of you, a quiet moment that reminded you why Glen was your best friend. His support, his calm energy—it was all you needed to take a deep breath and believe in yourself again.

As the car slowed to a stop, signaling your arrival at the red carpet, you felt ready. Maybe it was the way Glen always knew how to bring you back to yourself, or maybe it was just the fact that he was there beside you, exactly where he always seemed to be when you needed him most.

You stole a quick glance at Glen, catching the way his gaze softened as he looked back at you, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours.

“Hey,” he said, the tone shifting just a little, serious but with the same undertone of care. “You’re gonna be great, okay? And if you need me to do anything, I’m right here. Just... be you.”

Glen gave your hand one last squeeze, a reassuring pressure that grounded you, and you suddenly felt like you could take on the world.

The driver opened the door, and the bright lights of the red carpet began to stretch ahead of you, already swirling with flashes and faces, the hum of excitement palpable in the air. Glen leaned toward you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing the smooth skin of your neck.

“You’re gonna shine tonight,” he said quietly, his voice filled with confidence, making you believe it for the first time.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, then flashed him a grin. “Thanks, Glen.”

He winked. “Anytime, Penguin. Let’s go make some memories.”

With that, you stepped out of the car, Glen’s hand still firmly in yours, ready to face whatever the night would bring—with him by your side, you felt ready for anything.

The roar of the red carpet hit you the moment you stepped out of the car. A wall of flashing lights and the constant hum of voices calling out names created a dizzying cacophony. For a second, you froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The chaos seemed endless, but Glen’s steady hand on the small of your back was the anchor you needed.

“Stay close,” he said quietly, his voice warm and reassuring, almost lost in the noise. He guided you forward with a gentle pressure, his touch never faltering.

Reporters shouted his name, cameras clicked furiously, and fans called out from behind the barriers. Glen’s demeanor shifted effortlessly, the easy confidence you admired about him coming to life under the scrutiny. But even as he navigated the chaos like a pro, his focus never strayed far from you.

When a particularly eager photographer stepped too close, Glen instinctively pulled you in, lacing your arm through his. The motion was protective yet natural, as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing your ear as he whispered, “You doing okay so far?”

You nodded, the nerves still simmering but far less overwhelming with Glen beside you. “Yeah. It’s just... a lot.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers giving your arm a light squeeze. “It’s always a lot. Just keep smiling and don’t trip. I’ve got the rest covered.”

Moments later, you were ushered to the line of reporters waiting for interviews. Glen kept you close, his hand returning to your back as he led you toward the first microphone. The journalist’s attention immediately shifted to him, questions about his latest project firing off one after another.

“This is Glen Powell, looking dapper as always! Who’s your stunning guest tonight?” one reporter asked, her eyes flicking to you with interest.

Glen grinned, that signature charm lighting up his face. “This,” he said, his voice full of pride, “is the best friend who keeps me sane.” He glanced at you, his expression softening as if to emphasize his words.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as the reporter laughed. “Keeping Glen Powell on track sounds like a full-time job!”

“You have no idea,” you replied, finding your confidence in the moment. Glen chuckled beside you, his presence like a shield against the overwhelming spotlight.

The interviews continued, with Glen effortlessly steering the attention toward his projects while making sure you felt included. Whenever he wasn’t speaking, his hand either rested lightly on your back or your arm stayed looped through his. The gesture was subtle, but it kept you grounded, a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone in this.

In a rare lull between interviews, Glen turned to you, his expression softening as the frenzy of the red carpet seemed to momentarily fade into the background.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the noise around you.

You looked up at him, your heart still racing from the whirlwind of the evening. 

“Hey,” you replied, a little breathless.

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of your updo from your face, his fingers lingering just slightly longer than necessary. His touch was light, yet it sent a wave of warmth through you. His eyes searched yours, the usual glint of mischief replaced with something quieter, more sincere. “You okay?”

The simple question held weight, as if he wasn’t just asking about the moment but something deeper. You nodded, your voice catching slightly as you said, “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, his hand dropping back to his side, though the warmth of his touch seemed to linger. “Good. Can’t have my Penguin falling apart on me now.”

The moment hung between you, brief but charged with an unspoken connection that neither of you dared to address. Then the chaos of the red carpet surged back to life, pulling you both out of it.

“Ready to keep going?” Glen asked, his tone light again as he gestured toward the next line of reporters.

You took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders, and smiled. “Let’s do it.”

With your arm resting gently on his, Glen led you forward, his confidence bolstering your own. And as the night unfolded, you realized that no matter how overwhelming the evening became, you’d be okay—with Glen by your side.

The ballroom was a masterpiece of elegance, bathed in soft, golden light with tables draped in white linens and adorned with extravagant floral centerpieces. Each table bore name cards in ornate calligraphy, indicating an impressive roster of directors, actors, and other Hollywood heavyweights.

Glen pulled out your chair for you before taking his seat beside you, leaning in briefly to whisper, “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

You looked at Glen with a soft smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Powell.”

Within moments, the table began filling with familiar faces. To your left sat Richard Linklater himself, his unassuming charm making you feel more at ease than you’d expected. Across the table, a notable actress you’d only ever seen on-screen chatted animatedly with Glen, who was effortlessly charismatic as always.

“Glen,” Richard said with a warm smile, his Texan drawl coming through as he gestured toward you. “You didn’t introduce me to your lovely guest.”

Glen straightened, the corners of his mouth tilting upward as he turned to you. “Richard, this is the best friend who keeps me sane—and who’s also had to deal with my Dazed and Confused impression far too many times.”

You laughed lightly, shaking Richard’s hand. “It’s true. If I hear him say, ‘Alright, alright, alright,’ one more time, I might disown him.”

Richard chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “A classic never dies, though, does it?”

“I suppose not,” you conceded with a grin.

The quick banter caught the attention of the others at the table, who joined the conversation with playful remarks of their own. You held your own with ease, even managing to get a genuine laugh out of the actress across from you after a comment about the absurdity of some press junket questions.

Glen, sitting beside you, watched the exchanges with a kind of quiet pride, his gaze lingering on you whenever you spoke. At one point, he leaned closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re killing it. Remind me again—why am I not bringing you to all of these things?”

You smirked, taking a sip of water to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Because you know I’d upstage you.”

“Touché,” he said with a soft laugh, nudging your shoulder playfully.

As the dinner continued, Glen made sure to include you in every conversation, subtly steering the spotlight toward you when someone asked about his current projects. You found yourself talking about Glen’s work ethic and how he somehow managed to juggle it all without losing his sense of humor.

“Sounds like you know him pretty well,” Richard observed with a knowing smile.

“I sure hope so after I’ve put up with him for all these years,” you replied, glancing at Glen. “Someone has to keep him humble.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Glen shook his head, though the unmistakable warmth in his expression betrayed how much he loved every second of it.

When dessert was served—an artfully plated creation that was almost too pretty to eat—Glen leaned in once more, his tone playful but sincere. “See? Told you you’d be great.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not bad for someone who almost didn’t make it out of the hotel room.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice softening, “you belong here, you know.”

The weight of his words settled between you, a quiet affirmation that carried more meaning than the playful banter that had preceded it. You nodded, the nerves you’d been holding onto finally beginning to ease.

The awards show was nothing short of spectacular, a seamless blend of glamour, artistry, and showmanship. The host kept the audience entertained with clever quips and light-hearted jokes, while presenters took the stage to announce the winners in a variety of categories. The room buzzed with energy as names were called, winners delivered heartfelt speeches, and cameras panned over the crowd of celebrities.

Sitting beside Glen, you couldn’t help but notice how his leg bounced slightly under the table, a telltale sign of his nerves. Despite the outward appearance of ease he projected, you knew him well enough to see through it. Every now and then, his hand brushed his jawline, the slight stubble catching the light, as he glanced at the stage and back at you with an almost imperceptible smile.

You leaned closer to him during a quieter moment. “How are you holding up?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the applause filling the room.

“Better with you here,” he replied, his tone casual but sincere. The weight of his words sent a gentle warmth through you, grounding you as much as it did him.

As the night progressed, Glen laughed at the host’s jokes and applauded the winners, though you could feel his anticipation building as his category grew closer. 

The glitz and chatter around you seemed to blur as the presenter finally took the stage to announce the nominees for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy. 

You felt Glen shift in his seat, his back straightening as his name was called alongside the other nominees. His hand brushed his thigh, and you noticed him take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly. Instinctively, you leaned in just enough so your shoulder lightly pressed against his, a silent reminder that you were right there with him.

The presenter opened the envelope, the seconds stretching impossibly long. “And the award goes to... Sebastian Stan!”

The room erupted into applause as Sebastian rose from his seat, making his way to the stage. You clapped along with everyone else, but the knot of disappointment in your chest was impossible to ignore. Letting out a small, defeated breath, you glanced over at Glen.

He was smiling politely, clapping for Sebastian, but you saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. The kind of flicker only someone who truly knew him could catch. Others at the table offered their own words of encouragement, but Glen only nodded politely, his attention still half-focused on the stage.

Without thinking, you leaned closer, your voice low and meant just for him. “You’re still the most talented guy in the room.”

You reached over, resting your hand gently on his knee under the table, offering him the kind of comfort words alone couldn’t provide. For a moment, his gaze dropped to your hand, then back to your face. A small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as his hand briefly covered yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of meaning.

Throughout the rest of the show, Glen leaned into your presence, subtly relying on you to keep him grounded. You noticed the way his body gradually relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing as the night continued. 

When another winner gave a particularly heartfelt speech, Glen turned to you with a quiet chuckle. “At least I don’t have to worry about tripping on the way to the stage.”

You laughed softly, the sound drawing out a more genuine smile from him. “See? There’s always a silver lining.”

By the time the final award was announced and the audience began filtering out of the theater, Glen seemed more at ease. 

As the two of you stood to leave, he placed a hand on your back, guiding you through the crowd. “Thanks for keeping me sane tonight,” he said, his voice low but warm.

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the unspoken connection between you deepen as the evening came to a close.

The after-party was everything you expected it to be: glamorous, extravagant, and a little overwhelming. The main Golden Globes after-party felt less like a celebration and more like a carefully orchestrated networking event. The room was packed with A-list celebrities, producers, directors, and journalists, each armed with a drink in one hand and a carefully curated smile.

Music thumped in the background, but it barely registered over the hum of conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Glen stayed by your side at first, introducing you to a few people here and there. You exchanged pleasantries with actors whose faces you recognized from the big screen and smiled politely at directors whose names you tried not to forget. 

But before long, Glen was pulled away, whisked from one conversation to the next like the star of the evening. You watched as he posed for pictures, his easy charm making every interaction look effortless. He’d glance back at you occasionally, offering a reassuring smile or a quick wink, but you could tell even he was beginning to feel the strain of the crowd.

You nursed a drink at the edge of the room, trying to stay out of the way while still keeping Glen in your sights. It was easy to lose track of time amidst the chaos, but the constant flow of strangers and small talk started to take its toll. The energy in the room felt electric and draining all at once, and you found yourself wishing for a quieter corner to catch your breath.

After what felt like hours, Glen appeared at your side, his hand lightly brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the noise around you. “This is… a lot, huh?”

You nodded, letting out a small laugh. “It’s a little overwhelming. How are you holding up?”

“I’ve smiled so much tonight my face might be stuck this way,” he joked, though there was a hint of exhaustion in his eyes. He glanced around the room, then back at you. “What do you say we head to my party? I think I’ve shaken enough hands and posed for enough pictures to last a lifetime.”

The suggestion was like a lifeline, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Glen’s shoulders relaxed visibly at your answer, and he gave you a small, grateful smile. He offered you his arm, the gesture both protective and grounding as he guided you through the crowd toward the exit. Despite the noise and flashing cameras still lingering near the doorway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief as you stepped out into the cool night air.

The car ride to the rooftop bar was quiet, a welcome change from the chaos of the Golden Globes after-party. Glen leaned back against the seat, his shirt now unbuttoned to a second button and the faintest hint of exhaustion in his expression.

You glanced at him, smiling softly. “You know, most people would just go to bed after a night like this. Not go to another party.”

Glen chuckled, his head turning toward you. “What can I say? I’m not most people.”

When the car pulled up to the rooftop bar, Glen stepped out first, turning back to offer you his hand. “C’mon. Let’s go see everyone.”

The rooftop bar was stunning, its perimeter lined with fairy lights that cast a warm, golden glow. The city skyline sparkled in the distance, and the faint hum of music drifted through the air. Glen had rented the entire space, and as the two of you stepped inside, you were greeted by the cheerful buzz of conversation.

His parents were the first to spot you, their faces lighting up as they hurried over to greet Glen with warm hugs and congratulations. 

His mom pulled you into an embrace as well, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You look stunning tonight, sweetheart. And thank you for taking care of our boy out there.”

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the ease that came with being around Glen’s family.

You scanned the room and spotted Leslie, Glen’s younger sister, waving excitedly from across the bar. She was all smiles as she made her way over, throwing her arms around you in a hug. 

“It’s been forever!” she exclaimed, pulling back to give you a once-over. “You look amazing! And that dress—ugh, you’re killing me.”

“You’re one to talk,” you teased, taking in her own dress. “You look incredible.”

Glen was quickly pulled into conversations with friends and other guests, his charm and warmth on full display as he moved through the room. You stayed behind with Leslie, the two of you settling into a quieter corner of the bar.

“So,” you said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Tell me everything about the engagement. I need details.”

Leslie’s face lit up, and she launched into a detailed recounting of the proposal—how her fiancé had asked, the secret planning, how he included her friends and family in on the surprise. She showed you the ring, a design that perfectly suited her, and the two of you gushed over wedding plans.

“I’m thinking late spring,” Leslie said, twirling her glass of wine between her fingers. “Something outdoors, simple but elegant. Glen keeps trying to offer to pay for everything, but I want to keep it low-key.”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, smiling. “And knowing Glen, he’ll find a way to contribute whether you want him to or not.”

Leslie laughed, nodding. “Oh, I know. He’s the best, though. We’re lucky to have him.”

“Yeah, we really are.” Your gaze drifted across the room to where Glen was laughing with a small group of friends, his easy smile making your own lips curve upward. His hand was resting casually in the pocket of his suit pants.

“You’ve got that look again,” Leslie said, a teasing lilt in her tone.

You blinked, snapping your gaze back to her. “What look?”

She grinned knowingly and nudged your arm with her elbow. “The ‘I’m totally into Glen but I’ll never admit it’ look.”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? That’s ridiculous,” you said quickly, trying to laugh it off. “You’re crazy.”

“Uh-huh,” Leslie said, leaning back against the bar with a smirk. “Sure I am.”

You rolled your eyes, determined to brush off her teasing. “He’s my best friend, Les. That’s-” But before you could finish your sentence, Glen glanced over at the two of you. His eyes found yours across the room, and when he smiled—soft, warm, and undeniably genuine—you felt your words falter. 

You didn’t even realize you had stopped speaking until Leslie let out a low chuckle.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, barely containing her laughter. “You’ve got it bad.”

Realizing what just happened, you tore your gaze away from Glen, your face burning. 

“I do not,” you muttered, but the weak protest only made Leslie laugh harder.

She shook her head, her grin widening. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Honestly, I’ve suspected this for years, but that little moment right there? Total confirmation.”

“Okay, enough,” you said, waving your hands as if to physically push the conversation away. “Let’s focus less on your brother and my nonexistent love life. Let’s get back to your wedding.”

Leslie just smirked, clearly not buying your denial. “Fine, but for the record? He’s totally into you too.”

You gave Leslie a confused look, followed by a doubtful laugh. “Yeah, right?” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Leslie raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your self-doubt. “Why do you think he wouldn’t be into you?” she asked, crossing her arms as if she were gearing up to debate.

You sighed, glancing down at your drink. “I mean…look at him,” you said, gesturing vaguely in Glen’s direction. “He could have literally anyone he wants. Models, actresses, anyone. And I’m just…” You trailed off, shrugging.

Leslie tilted her head, studying you with a knowing smile. “Just what?” she pressed.

“Just me,” you finished weakly, feeling a little silly for saying it out loud.

Leslie let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Okay, first of all, that’s ridiculous. Second of all—” She paused, leaning in slightly for emphasis. “You’re the one he asked to be his date tonight. Not a model, not an actress, you.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the truth of her words. “That’s just because we’re friends,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Friends,” Leslie repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Right. Because friends definitely look at each other the way he looks at you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up again. “He does not look at me any type of way,” you insisted, but Leslie wasn’t buying it.

She smirked, nodding toward Glen, who was now making his way across the room in your direction.

“Sure he doesn’t,” she said, her voice teasing. “But just in case you’re still in denial, why don’t you pay attention when he gets over here? You’ll see what I mean.”

Before you could respond, Glen reached the two of you, his presence immediately drawing your attention. 

“Hey,” he said, flashing that easy smile of his. “Am I interrupting something, or can I steal her for a bit?”

Leslie’s grin widened as she gave you a pointed look. “Not at all,” she said sweetly, stepping aside. “She’s all yours.”

You shot her a subtle glare, but Leslie just winked at you before turning to join the rest of the group. As Glen’s attention shifted back to you, your heart did that annoying fluttery thing it always seemed to do when he was around.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze flicking over your face as if checking for any signs of discomfort.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just catching up with Leslie.”

“Good,” he said, his smile softening. “She’s been excited to see you. I think she’s secretly more interested in hanging out with you than me tonight.”

You laughed, the sound helping to ease the tension swirling in your chest. “Well, to be fair, I am pretty great,” you teased, falling back into your usual banter with him.

“Can’t argue with that,” Glen said, his tone light, but there was something in his eyes that lingered a little too long, something that made your breath catch just slightly.

The atmosphere shifted subtly as the music transitioned to something slower, a beat just mellow enough to set a softer, almost romantic mood. The chatter in the room seemed to quiet slightly, replaced by the rhythmic sway of the melody. Glen glanced toward the small dance floor, where a few of his friends were starting to pair off, and then turned back to you.

“Come on,” he said, extending a hand toward you, his smile warm and inviting.

You shook your head immediately, taking a small step back. “You know I don’t dance,” you reminded him, your voice firm but playful.

His grin only widened, clearly undeterred. “And you know I don’t take no for an answer,” he teased, stepping closer and gently taking your hand before you could protest further.

“Glen,” you said, a hint of exasperation in your tone, but he was already pulling you toward the dance floor.

“Relax,” he said with a laugh, glancing back at you. “I’ll lead. All you have to do is follow.”

You sighed in resignation, realizing there was no escaping this. When you reached the dance floor, you placed a hand on his shoulder, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his dress shirt. He wrapped an arm securely around your waist, pulling you just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“You’ve done this before,” he said lightly as he started to guide you to the rhythm of the music.

“Once or twice,” you admitted, though you still felt slightly self-conscious. “But I’m warning you—I’m not great at it.”

“You’re doing fine,” he assured you, his voice low and steady, as if the rest of the room didn’t exist.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Leslie standing by the bar. She was watching you with an unmistakable smirk, her arms crossed in triumph. When your eyes met hers, she gave you a knowing look, the kind that said, See? Told you so.

You rolled your eyes at her and shook your head, trying to silently tell her to knock it off. Glen noticed the exchange, his brow furrowing slightly as he glanced over at Leslie and then back down at you. 

“What am I missing?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, though your cheeks were already starting to warm.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, his tone teasing now. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Leslie’s just…being Leslie,” you said vaguely, hoping to leave it at that.

But Glen wasn’t letting it go. He tilted his head, a slow smile spreading across his face as realization started to dawn on him. 

“Wait a minute…” he said, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Is she messing with you about something?”

“Not really,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“Not really?” he repeated, clearly unconvinced. His eyes flicked back toward Leslie, who was now openly grinning at the two of you. “Oh, she’s definitely messing with you about something,” he said with a laugh.

You groaned, your head dropping slightly as you muttered, “I’m going to kill her.”

Glen chuckled, his hand on your waist giving a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he said, his tone playful but his smile soft.

For a moment, you forgot about Leslie entirely, your focus shifting back to Glen as you moved together in time with the music. His gaze lingered on you, his expression unexpectedly tender, and you felt your heart skip in a way that made you wonder if Leslie might actually have a point after all.

As the slower song faded out, you felt a moment of relief. But then the next song started, and your heart sank a little as the unmistakable notes of a love ballad filled the air. The kind that spoke of longing and intimacy, the kind that made you suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were still in Glen’s arms.

You glanced up at him, your lips parting to excuse yourself, but before you could step away, his hand on your back shifted, a gentle but deliberate pressure that kept you in place.

“Stay,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Glen, I—” you started, already shaking your head. There was no way you could dance to a love song with your best friend. It felt too…loaded.

“Just one more,” he murmured, and when your eyes met his, whatever protest you had ready fell away. There was something in the way he looked at you—something unspoken but undeniable. It wasn’t just a friendly look. It was softer, deeper, and for a moment, it left you breathless.

You nodded, barely, and he smiled—just a small, private curve of his lips that made your stomach flip.

He pulled you just a little closer this time, close enough that your chest brushed against his. The hold on your back shifted, his hand sliding just slightly lower, resting at the curve where your back met your waist. It wasn’t inappropriate—just enough to feel a little less like friendship and a little more like something else.

Without thinking, you leaned into him, your cheek resting lightly against his chest. His warmth was comforting, grounding, and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of the song and the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

You felt him tilt his head, the faintest brush of his cheek against the top of yours. It was such a small gesture, but it sent your heart into a quiet frenzy, a rhythm that seemed to echo in time with the music.

Neither of you said a word as you moved together, swaying gently to the melody. The first verse passed, then the chorus, and you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be here, like the rest of the world had melted away.

The song came to an end, the final notes fading into a hum of conversation and clinking glasses around you. Glen didn’t move right away, and for a moment, neither did you. You stayed in his arms, feeling the warmth of his hand still pressed against your back, the steady beat of his heart against your cheek.

But then someone called his name from across the room, breaking the fragile bubble that had surrounded you both. Glen’s arm slipped away, though his hand lingered on your elbow for a second longer than necessary.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on yours, as if reluctant to leave.

You nodded, offering a small smile, and watched as he crossed the room to greet a new arrival. The absence of his touch left you feeling untethered, a sudden awareness of just how much you’d let yourself melt into him during that dance.

Needing a moment to collect yourself—and maybe something stronger than a moment of quiet—you made your way to the bar. You ordered a glass of wine and took a steadying sip, trying to push the last few minutes out of your mind.

Of course, Leslie found you before you even made it halfway through your drink.

“So,” she started, leaning casually against the bar with an unmistakable smirk. “That was…something.”

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the blush already creeping up your neck. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” she asked innocently, though her grin was anything but. “I’m just saying, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother look at someone like that. Or hold someone like that. Or—”

“Leslie,” you warned, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at composure.

She laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “I’m just saying, for someone who insists she doesn’t dance, you looked awfully comfortable out there dancing with my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you replied, taking another sip of your wine in a futile attempt to drown your nerves.

“Doesn’t it?” she countered, raising an eyebrow. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like something more.”

You shot her a sharp look, but she just shrugged, still grinning.

“Relax,” she said, nudging your arm playfully. “I’m not about to make a big announcement or anything. But if you don’t see it yet…” She trailed off, giving you a knowing look before gesturing subtly toward Glen, who was still across the room, laughing with a small group of friends.

You followed her gaze despite yourself, and your heart gave a traitorous little lurch at the sight of him. His smile was easy and charming, but every now and then, his eyes flicked toward the bar, as if checking to see if you were still there.

“See what I mean?” Leslie said softly, pulling your attention back to her.

You shook your head, trying to play it off. “You’re reading into things.”

“Am I?” she challenged, her tone light but her expression serious. “Because I’ve known Glen my whole life, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. So, maybe it’s time you stop convincing yourself it’s all in your head.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you found yourself speechless, staring down into your glass of wine as if it held the answers you were so desperately trying to avoid.

Leslie let the silence linger for a moment before giving your arm another playful nudge. “Just think about it, okay?”

And with that, she pushed off the bar and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts—and the undeniable truth you were no longer sure you could ignore.

You stepped away from the bar, glass of wine in hand, and gravitated toward a quieter corner of the rooftop. The laughter and conversation from the party grew softer with every step, the music fading into a pleasant hum in the background. A gentle breeze brushed against your skin as you approached the railing, the Los Angeles skyline glittering like a sea of stars before you.

You leaned against the cool metal and took a slow sip of your wine, your thoughts drifting back to Leslie’s words. Was she onto something? No, she couldn’t be. Glen was your best friend, the one constant in your life through every twist and turn. You would know if he felt something for you… right?

But then again…

You sighed and rested your elbow on the railing, pressing your glass lightly to your lips. Leslie had known Glen her entire life. If anyone could read him, it was her. And the way she spoke—like she’d been holding onto this knowledge for a while—left you with an uncomfortable sense of doubt.

Could she be right? Could you really have missed something that big?

The sound of footsteps approaching pulled you from your thoughts. You looked over, expecting another party guest, but instead, you found Glen standing beside you. The velvet tuxedo jacket was now off, and his hair was a little mussed from probably running his hand through it one too many times, but his smile was warm and familiar.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning casually against the railing next to you. “You okay?”

You managed a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, just needed a breather.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calm and steady, before arching a brow. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Leslie pestering you at the bar, would it?”

You rolled your eyes, though your lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “No.”

“Uh-huh,” Glen said, clearly not buying it. “Because Leslie may or may not have told me to come find you.”

Your heart gave a jolt, and you turned to look at him. “She what?”

“She didn’t say why,” Glen added quickly, holding up a hand as if to reassure you. “But… she said…enough.”

“Enough?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

He hesitated, his smile fading into something softer, something more sincere. “Enough to make me realize I’ve been putting this off for too long.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Glen stepped closer. His eyes searched yours, as though he were trying to gauge your reaction before saying anything else. 

“I wanted to thank you,” he said, his voice low. “For coming with me tonight. For being here for me—not just tonight, but always.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. There was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, that made your heart beat just a little faster.

“And I need you to know,” he continued, taking another step closer, “how much you mean to me.”

The space between you was nearly nonexistent now, and for a moment, neither of you said a word. His eyes searched yours, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

You felt it then—that shift Leslie had hinted at, the one you’d been too afraid to fully acknowledge. This wasn’t just your best friend standing in front of you. This was Glen, the man who had been at your side for years, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

He took a deep breath and leaned in slightly, pausing when your noses were almost touching. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you met his gaze, your heart thundering in your chest.

Glen’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and then his eyes fluttered shut as he raised a hand to your face. His palm was warm as it cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

You closed your eyes just as his lips found yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though he was afraid you might pull away. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into him and placed a hand lightly against his chest, he deepened the kiss, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

The world around you faded—the music, the laughter, the skyline. All that mattered was the way Glen’s lips moved against yours, the way he held you like he’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath as you both stood there, processing what had just happened. Glen’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing soft, absentminded circles against your skin. Your heart raced, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the surreal, breathtaking reality of the moment.

Finally, Glen broke the silence, his lips curving into that familiar, playful grin that always managed to put you at ease. “So…” he began, his tone light but his eyes still holding that intensity from before. “Does this mean you’ll let me take you to next year’s Globes too?”

The laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, breaking the tension in the most perfect way. You shook your head, resting your forehead against his chest as a smile spread across your lips. “We’ll see if you behave, Cowboy.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rested. “Behave? I’m a perfect gentleman,” he said, his voice tinged with mock indignation.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, arching a brow. “Oh, really? Perfect gentlemen don’t usually kiss their best friends on rooftops in the middle of a party.”

His grin widened as he shrugged, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. “Maybe I got tired of being just your best friend.”

Your breath caught again at the sincerity in his tone, the way his teasing words carried so much truth. Glen had always been charming, always quick with a joke or a flirtatious comment, but this felt different. This felt real.

You didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say, but instead of pushing, Glen just smiled and leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your forehead. And with that, he stepped back slightly, though his hand still lingered on your waist, as if to let you know that even with the space between you, he was still there, still yours.

You tilted your head back to look up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. The smile that still lingered on his lips wasn’t one of teasing; it was genuine, like he was relieved to have crossed that line with you.

“I don’t know what to say,” you confessed, your voice quieter than usual. “This is... a lot to take in, you know?”

Glen nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over the fabric of your dress, a small gesture that seemed to ground you. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I get it.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he added, “But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, and for a brief moment, you closed your eyes, letting yourself truly hear what he was saying. The uncertainty that had clouded your mind earlier began to dissipate, replaced by something far more powerful—trust.

“I just don’t want to mess things up, Glen,” you admitted, looking up at him again, your voice low but clear. “We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t want to lose that.”

His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb now tracing along your jawline as he spoke, his voice steady. “We won’t lose it,” he promised, his gaze never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t let that happen. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the sincerity in his words making your heart swell. “Okay,” you whispered, the word feeling like a vow in the quiet space between you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, as if the world had paused just for you two. It was peaceful, despite everything—the chaos of the party, the swirling emotions inside you. Glen was here, right in front of you, and he was offering you something more. Something you hadn’t expected but couldn’t deny.

Then, in the silence that followed, he grinned, that familiar playful glint returning to his eyes. “So, does this mean you’ll let me take you on a date?”

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him, and couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes twinkled with excitement. He was waiting, his expression open and genuine, and suddenly, it didn’t feel like anything was uncertain anymore. The nerves, the doubts—they melted away in the warmth of his gaze.

"Yeah," you said softly, your voice filled with the quiet confidence that had come from years of friendship and, somehow, this unexpected moment. "I'd like that."

His smile deepened, and for a second, it was as if time stood still. He reached out, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek.

Without another word, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. It wasn’t rushed, nor was it shy. It was everything you hadn’t known you needed.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours. You both stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, as if savoring the moment before the world could rush back in.

"Come on," Glen said, pulling you gently by the hand, “Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

As he led you back toward the party, his fingers intertwined with yours, and the moment felt complete. You’d crossed the line, yes, but it was the best kind of line to cross—one that made you excited for whatever came next.

You shared one last look, a silent promise between you two, before re-entering the party, side by side, ready for whatever the night—and your future—held.

[mimipolo]

nam-gyu hate fuck? Maybe hes pissed at you because you almost knocked him over in red light green light, and then had the audacity to click x at the vote. So when the lights go out he follows you to the bathroom?

Nam-gyu X reader

(nsfw)

I'll be honest I had no idea what I was doing at first but I swear I had an awakening half way through.

You'd pissed him all the way off now. He could put up with your teasing eyes and the way you managed to still look hot in a crappy tracksuit, even when you had the audacity to nearly knock him off the finish line in the first game . But why would you choose "o"??

His eyes glared daggers into your back as he watched you press "x" confidently as if you'd get away with it.

He'd make sure that wasn't the case.

Votings over and it's ended in a tie, everyone's tense and trying to convince the other to join their side. Amidst all this you slip away to go to the bathroom, he leaves the crowd slowly to follow suit.

You were just shaking off your wet hands when he swings open the bathroom door and casually walks in. He has his hands stuffed in his pockets and wearing an expression that just looks like he's plotting something. Why the hell is he in the woman's bathroom??

Immediately you recognised him as the guy always with Thanos, always just a step behind him ,but just as cunning. The only interaction you had was when his friend had made the odd attempt of hitting on you. But right now, he was nowhere to be seen.

"You went and chose "x" huh?"

You remain quiet, eyes darting around the bathroom as you back away from him but he grasps your arm suddenly making your heart jump.

"You're gonna ignore me now? You gotta mouth, speak."

"What's it matter to you what I chose."

You say through gritted teeth, nervous to speak up to him but also refusing to let him push you around. Your expression sours as he begins to grin wide, like he's pleased with your response and it'd justify what he's about to do.

"Vote "o" next round." He says harshly as he tugs you closer, his body close to yours. He only chuckles when you try to step away, grabbing your other arm to keep you near.

"That a no?" He's tilting his head down towards you, it's almost like he was hoping you'd go against him, you could hear his heartbeat as he eyed you over lustfully.

Unfortunately you had missed the arousal in his hate filled gaze as you spit back a "Hell no", you're being pulled into a bathroom stall before you could even think.

"How bout I convince you to choose "o" yeah? I'm pretty good." His words are smug as he has your back to the colourful stall wall, his hands already fumbling to unzip your tracksuit, kissing loudly at the skin of your neck. The whole situation had your hairs standing up on end, an alarming sense of arousal coursing through you.

A sharp bite to the curve of your shoulder has you flinching, a pained gasp escaping your lips as he looks up at you sadistically.

"I bite though, hard. But you'd probably like that, not even sayin' a thing."

"You asshole..."

You're left shocked by his lust coated words, your hands finally moving to grip his own tracksuit in an attempt to get him off but he's unfazed. Sucking and biting into your flesh as his hands reach down to rest on your hips, one sliding down the waistband of your sweats and into your pants.

You jolt violently at the intrusion, eyes widening in shock as you feel your resolve start to crumble. Your hands tightening around his clothes rather than pushing him away, craning your hips forward when cold ringed fingers press against those bundle of nerves. Shivering softly at the sensation, he just laughs at you, pulling down your tracksuit more for better access.

He didn't lie when he said he was good, each swerve of his fingers had you twitching against him, desperate for him to slip just one inside.

"You're wet from just this? Almost making me feel bad... but you've been the one teasing me this whole time."

"You're fucking crazy-" you manage to barely get out between gasps.

His tone still comes off as arrogant but you can hear him becoming breathless from just watching you crumble under his fingers. Two thick digits pushed inside you. Immediately taking him like you'd been hoping.

"Didn't even hav'ta push that much, you been fucking in this shitty place?"

The accusations make you whine softly as you squeeze around him, it's not true but something about the way he says it has you hooked. He was such an asshole, a sleeze and a junkie but you couldn't defend how you were murmuring against his chest for more.

"More? I knew you were just playing hard to get..."

What you didn't expect was for him to flip you on your back, hands roaming up your body to squeeze at the soft flesh as he presses his evident hard on against the curve of your ass.

"You'll never think of leaving after this." He hisses against the shell of your ear stripping himself down to line himself up against you. Before you could argue with him, even lie and say you'd vote "o" this time he's already inching himself inside you, a sharp jolt shooting through your senses. He's huffing and moaning when he bottoms out, not wasting a moment as he's already moving, making sure you take all of him as he pulls your hips back.

He's surprisingly slow, almost affectionately so. But his words are vulgar and degrading, his hands harshly grabbing anywhere they wished. Your arms are braced against the walls and your eyes squeezed shut with ecstasy as he softly reshapes you. It was like he was making sure you knew and remembered what he was doing to you.

You're honestly convinced he's louder than you, your voices filling the air as you take him. Eventually he gets desperate, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster and his dirty words only getting whinier "such a slut", "just keep taking it."

Your stomach drops when you hear the bathroom door open, he's quick to silence you. Placing a firm hand over your mouth as his other hand reaches between your legs again to press roughly against your sensitive bud. He's biting his own lip to keep quiet as his hips shudder and he spills everything he's got in you, painting your walls thickly with his cum. He's murmuring and panting against your shoulder about how good you took him before slipping out of you.

He snickers quietly watching you almost fold when he releases his hold on you, pulling up your pants and sweats and sitting you down on the toilet seat.

"I trust you know what to vote, I'll come remind ya if you forget." He whispers as leans down to grin dazily at you, his eyes scanning your fucked out expression. Clearly happy with his work he kisses your cheek deceptively sweetly, before leaving the stall. You hear him wash his hands and whistle softly as he walks away, the creak of the bathroom door signalling his exit.

What the hell was that about...

[prettieinpink]

2024 WRAPPED⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

₊˚⊹♡TOP LESSONS LEARNT 

Missing out gives you progress on your goals. So many times this year, I didn’t do things that I usually would’ve loved to do to make and maintain progress on my

goals. Simple things like cancelling plans, buying certain things and any other short-term pleasures. Allowing myself to overcome FOMO, and in return, I saw great progress in my goals. 

People hating you has nothing to do with you. I dislike a lot of things because it's my personal preference. Someone who decides to hate you is a matter of their preference. However, if they choose to show that hatred to you, it's a matter of projection. People will project onto you as a way to cope with their own life, cause they can’t deal with their own. 

Stop letting everything control you. Truly, you’re held back from nothing in life. Your circumstances, identity, environment and more can only hold you back so far. At one point, you’ve gotta start acting and stop blaming everything around you on why you can’t. This one… is still in progress for me. I do feel like my parents are a major factor in me being held back, but deeper down, I also feel that it's an excuse to not work up to my potential. 

Trying to fit in is fruitless. I wear and listen to what I want. I decide what kind of content I want to consume, and what food I want to eat. This generation is notorious for tearing down anyone who doesn’t fit in a cookie cutter. Allowing your authenticity to shine through, will guide those who are meant for you, to you!

All problems are temporary. This one does not apply to everything, but it applies to a lot of things. Your issues will not last forever, so don’t let it leave a permanent mark on you. Don’t let your situation deter you from your goals.

₊˚⊹♡ACHIEVEMENTS 

It's small, but I feel like I’ve created my room to be fully intentional for me. While it still can be improved, my room is much better in terms of clutter and decor compared to 2023. 

Consistent practicing soft social skills like keeping up small chats, giving compliments and handling disagreements gracefully. I ended the year with all B’s! Last semester was a bit of a flunk for me, but I managed to pull it up for the end of the year. 

Saved like 500$ for purchasing things off my wishlist. 

Read like 12ish books for 2024. Would’ve loved to read more, but I was in a reading slump and also didn’t have enough time to go out to my local library to borrow any books. 

₊˚⊹♡HABITS / RITUALS 

In bed by 9 pm, up by 6 am. Sleeping early has made me feel a lot more energised in the mornings, and I find that it's easier to get out of bed and continue with my routine. The later I slept will more I felt sluggish for the next day + waking up earlier hay motivated me to stay on top of my routines. 

Daily walks after school. It gets my steps in, but it's a nice way to debrief after school and regather myself before heading straight into studying. I sometimes do walk home, and it's great to plug in my earphones and just not think. 

Journaling. I preach it for a reason, as journaling helps plenty. It can help you to shift your mindset beliefs, identify self-sabotaging behaviours, allow us to truly reflect on who we are and see progress each day in our lives. 

Lighting candles more frequently. It's such a little habit, but it brings me so much joy. Usually, they’re just collecting dust as decor however when I started to use them, I loved the whole experience. The smell and the small warmth that it brings are just perfect for the ambience. 

Curating my social media. I have an absolute maximum of 5 hours per day, but I still want those 5 hours to count for something. I’ve redownloaded TikTok earlier this year, and I think it’s a great platform for looking for advice and inspiration. Creating a feed that works for you instead of the other way around, will definitely change how it influences you. 

Having alone time in the morning and at night. I need this time to myself to slow myself down and regather my thoughts and it's just what I look forward to, to get through the day. I usually do whatever I like in this time slot, on the condition that I am completely by myself, free from any tasks or distractions. 

Cleaning regularly. When I did a deep clean last year, it would just be vacuuming my room and wiping down all visible surfaces. That is good, but there’s a lot more to clean than you realise. One major thing that we forget to clean (yet is probably the dirtiest) is our devices. Wipe down all screens every single day!

₊˚⊹♡BEAUTY / FASHION TIPS

Turn down the toilet seat when you flush. The amount of times I’ve been in public toilets and flushed with the lid up is outrageous, and I just can’t believe that last year I didn’t even consider the bacteria that would fly up on my clothes or even my face. Not a major skincare tip, however, er I think this would affect it. 

Know your undertone. I would only use undertones to know what kind of jewellery fits me, but it goes way beyond that. Before I start, I would like to say, don’t buy any more clothes or makeup just because they don’t fit your undertone. If you like your confidence will override any undertone clash. I used to walk around with really yellow makeup, and the difference when I got a foundation that had more of a golden undertone was like day and night. The same applies to your clothes. Warmer clothes will complement me, becausI’m’m warm-toned. So, I tend to stay away from cooler tones. I don’t use colour seasons, Is anyone wondering? 

Stick to a palette that you like. Last year, I wasted so much money trying to experiment with new colours in my clothes and makeup, just to end up hating it. It’s also a bad consumerist habit, to buy things for your fantasy self. So today, I only buy clothes it's the colours I like and I only purchase makeup if its shades fit me. I’m not saying buy anything new, but keep it to a minimum to reduce waste and save your money for the things that you like. 

Avoid fashion inspiration with faces. Highly attractive people can pull off anything, quite literally. Their face can influence subconsciously them ly to love the outfit, even if the outfit is ‘bad’. So, when saving pictures from Pinterest, TikTok or magazines, avoid any outfits that show their face. I said avoid it as sometimes you just really like an outfit and you know it's nothing to do with their face, which is okay. 

₊˚⊹♡YOUTUBERS

JIlLZ GUERIN - Focuses on feminine energy, lifestyle and intellectual habits. I recommend her as many of her videos are new and fresh perspectives.

SANDY DIANA BANG - Mostly productive vlogs that inspire and motivate, with a sprinkle of wellness, health and beauty content. Her channel and vibes are so aesthetic too! 

ROSIE GRAHAM & LIDIA MERA - Both are fitness influencers that focus on pilates. Their workouts are so good that they always leave me sweating and strained (which is good!! lmao). If one of your goals for 2025 was to start working out, I would use their videos. 

THANK YOU BUBU - Another fitness channel that is one of my time faves, and they have a variety of exercises that target abs, glutes, legs and arms. Another channel I would recommend if I was starting to exercise again. 

MINA LE - She does research and creates video essays on various topics, which many videos I feel are relevant in current times. She’s great if you want to expand and explore new perspectives. 

HALIEY GAMBA - She’s for a more matured audience, but she’s such a hidden gem. All of her advice ly new things, not just the same things that have been rinsed and repeated. 

KELLY GOOCH - She’s a beauYouTuberber who mainly discusses the beauty industry and its products while recommending some. She’s one of the only beauty influencers who I will listen to, as I feel like her opinions aren’t constantly swayed by sponsorships or promotions. Even then I would still take any beauty opinions and advice with two cents.

ELLE CHU - A smaller, but underrated beauty influencer. She discusses a lot of beauty products whether they’re worth it, overhyped or overpriced. She does sometimes talk about the beauty industry, but those videos are infrequent. 

₊˚⊹♡BOOKS 

(I have read all of them libby- a reading app).

NJUTA by NIKI BRANTMARK. All about the Swedish art of enjoying the present. If you feel like you have a simple and unexciting life, I recommend you read this.

SPARK JOY by Marie Kondo. A popular decluttering book that uses the KonMari method that emphasises items that you want to keep, instead of focusing on what you want to get rid of.

THE HEALTHY MIND TOOLKIT by Dr Alice Boyes. This is the ultimate guide of mindset shifts to target self-sabotaging or destructive beliefs and gives strategies to overcome them.

MINDFULLNESS ON THE GO by Jan Chozen Bays. A collection of little mindfulness practices you can do almost anywhere, almost anytime. 

MY WISHES FOR 2025

To join any club at this point. It's hard for me to do anything outside of the house with my parents' schedules, and I do feel like it has eaten at my social life and the experiences, lessons etc I would gain. At first, I originally wanted to join so it's something I could put on my university application, however, I’m entering year 10 with absolutely no extracurriculars since year 7. (for anyone not down under, I'm talking about high school grades.) 

Expanding my social circle. I feel like I don’t have a secondary community outside of school, and it's definitely what can amplify my slumps or depression without having that one person I can talk to freely, without the worry of school. I feel like I’m making no sense here. 

Moving anywhere. I want to move schools, cities, countries, or whatever. Being in the same school since year 2 (elementary) has taken a toll on me. 

A million dollars. Very unrealistic, but I still want it! I feel like money is the only thing that can actively change my life at this point. 

thats it for this post! I encourage anyone else to do their own wrapped and tag me!

[steddieonbigboy]

Sleepwalkin'

written for @steddiemicrofic april prompt ‘fool’ wc: 454 | rated: T | cw: implied sexual content | read on ao3

🛌🛌🛌

Eddie stirs at the sound of shuffling footsteps and gets jolted awake as Steve drops face-first onto the bed.

"Mhmph. Where've you been?"

"Sleepwalkin'."

"Do anything fun?"

"I got into bed with Wayne." He mumbles into the pillow.

"Wait. What?!" Eddie sits up with a crazed grin, suddenly wide awake, "Steve, sweetheart, that's fucking hilarious."

"Yeah, Wayne thought so too," He rolls onto his side to face Eddie," I, on the other hand, am slightly mortified."

"Baby, I'm sorry but that is actually so funny. What did he say when he woke you up?"

"That's the thing! He didn't! So I obviously woke him up when I, y'know crawled into his bed and cuddled up to him-"

"You cuddled him?! Stevie, be careful, that's the most action he's gotten in years, he's gonna fall in love with you!"

"Fuck off," He reaches across to slap Eddie's shoulder, "Anyway, he just left me to sleep! I woke up to him snoring with his arm around me, and I was so fucking confused."

"How long were you there? I woke up earlier and you were gone but I just thought you were in the bathroom or something. Didn’t realise you’d deserted me."

"Probably like half the fucking night. I went back to sleep after I’d woken up because his bed’s comfier than yours. I only came back in because he went to work and I got cold."

"Is a bed warmer all I am to you, Stevie?" Eddie pouted, "I thought you loved me for my wit and charm and dashingly good looks, not because I keep you toasty."

"I love you for many reasons, including how warm you run, but if you don't like it," Steve shrugged, "I guess I'll have to go to Wayne next time I'm cold. I'm sure he'll warm me up."

"Please don't leave me for my Uncle."

"Well, you better give me a good reason to stay then."

"Nobody can go down on you as well as I can."

"Oh really? Might have to let you prove that you’re the best then."

Eddie just smirks as he slides down the bed.

—

Wayne’s just gotten home from work when Eddie clears his throat and nudges Steve in the ribs.

"Stevie. Don’t you have something to say to Wayne?"

"Huh? Oh, right," Steve looks at Wayne as sincerely as he can possibly manage right now, "I’m so sorry, Wayne, but we were fools to think it’d work out between us. I’ll never forget our wonderful night together though."

"Well shucks, son, you’re breakin’ my dang heart here but I guess I just gotta move on," Wayne gives Steve a wink, "You know where to find me if you change ya mind."

[hitlikehammers]

💫FINALLY✨ The One Where Wayne Munson Has to Carefully Try Not To Eavesdrop 100% COMMIT TO THE EAVESDROPPING When 💕HIS NEPHEW'S BOYFRIEND💕 Comes By To FACE THE MUSIC Reveal What That Coffee Date ☕ Was REALLY All About

(well: at least Wayne's just a willful fool about all this, rather than a witless one) ——(3/3)

<<< part two

~or~

<<< back to the beginning

Wayne’s the one who lets Steve in the next morning.

It’s his day off, and he only managed to get to bed for a couple hours anyway, so he’s just shaking off sleep when the knock comes.

And of course Steve’s as polite as ever, takes his shoes off like the upper crust kid he’ll always be but not with any of the snootiness Wayne’d expected in the beginning, just an ingrained—and eventually, grew to be downright upsetting—need to not be obtrusive, to step on no possible toes. Wayne’d been wishing for a while he’d go ahead and stomp on whatever toes he’d like to, save that today—

Today’s-Steve looks about ready to blow a gasket, and goddamn but Wayne hurts for him. He hurts more for his own boy, if what he fears despite his own good sense is what’s about to happen. But at the very same time he can’t wholly ignore the equal truth that Steve?

Steve’s grown to be his boy, too.

Wayne offers a cup from the coffee he’s about to brew but Steve turns him down with a tight smile, barely even worth being called such, which is telling for itself and more for rejecting the coffee—Steve only really does that when something’s wrong.

But Steve’s barely got to craning his neck around to look for Eddie when the man himself pops out from his room, all dimples and the kind of joy you can feel fill a room. Wayne aches for how it might be lookin’ to get dimmed, sniffed out at worst, if things are about to go sideways.

But Steve, who’s looked like he was ‘bout to be ill since he came in, takes a full breath and sheds the slightest sliver of the tension in him, just for meeting Eddie’s eyes across the way, and then Eddie’s closing the gap, arms out wide and grabbing Steve in tight and Steve’s grabbing right back, and they look for all intents like they’re trying real hard to pull so close they’ll break bones and mesh into one person, and Wayne tries to find comfort in the way people don’t do that sorta thing if they’re lookin’ to hurt one another.

They might well do that sorta thing as a kind of goodbye, though.

Eddie’s pulling them to the couch as Wayne stews over the thoughts he’s got, all at odds with each other and his own gut feeling too at that, because he’s up against the evidence he has against it turning out alright, versus the way he does believe he knows Steve to be a good man; the coffee’s burbling and draws his attention as a kindness until he hears voices from the living room:

“Eds,” and Steve’s leaning in to Eddie on the sofa and Wayne has to strain to hear and that alone should be enough to stop him. To make the more’n obvious point that he’s in the mess he’s in at all because he didn’t keep his ears to himself.

He don’t know if it makes it better or worse, that he’s not a witless fool, just a wilful one, to hold still where he’s got the dishes in hand to dry in the kitchen, so he can have a clean cup for his coffee. When he should move to the porch, have a smoke, take a walk.

“I gotta talk to you,” and Steve sounds grave with it, and Wayne tenses—he wants so bad to be wrong, because he can’t believe that Steve would do the things all the little clues add up to so easy. Not that sweet boy beat around by circumstance beneath the surface; and not done to his boy, neither.

Because Steve looks at his Eddie not so different from the moony cow-eyes his nephew don’t even try to tame.

But it’s…he sounds like there’s a death in the family he’s come to convey. He sounds like the world’s maybe ending.

Wayne don’t know if he holds his breath just to hear better, or because everything feels fragile. Maybe both things at once.

“What’s up, Stevie?” Eddie speaks so low, so sweet like he cherishes so damn much. “Are you okay, is everything—”

“Everything’s fine,” and Steve, hell: he sounds just the same, like there’s love coming out his ears. “Good, even, great, possibly,” but that sounds stilted, or maybe anxious, and Wayne don’t quite know what to make of it; “if you…”

And even Wayne can hear the labor in the breathe Steve’s taking, so he ain’t surprised when Eddie goes in all gentle and half whispers to his boy:

“Hey, Stevie.”

And Wayne don’t look, he’s pouring his coffee now, can’t take the chance of burnin’ himself and risk missing out hours for it, ‘course that’s why.

He don’t look, but he hears exactly what Ed’s words do to Steve when the reply comes out with the kind of relief you can feel with a weight in it, for what it sloughs off and makes light again:

“Hey.”

He can catch the way Eddie rubs hands up Steve’s arms, back and forth and back, foreheads leaned in together, and they sit there long enough for Wayne to lean in comfortable enough against the counter and test the heat of his drink.

“Whatcha got to talk to me about?” And it’s Eddie who broaches the elephant in the room, the soured thing at the base of Wayne’s throat churning for the past day and change. Wayne expects Steve to hold off, tiptoe a little.

He doesn’t, though; not even a little.

“I got the job.”

And that…that ain’t what Wayne was fearing at all, is it.

“Steve,” and Eddie does sound like it’s a good thing, a great thing, truly he does; “baby, that’s amazing!” And then the springs of the couch are creaking and Steve’s making a punched-out sorta sound that means only one thing: Eddie’s tackled him whole-body to the other side of the sofa.

“Fuck I’m so proud of you, sweetheart, holy shit,” Ed’s sayin’ a little breathy, punctuated by loud wet kissy sounds that Wayne usually takes as his cue to skedaddle but…he needs a minute to reconcile what he’d been thinking without believing it could be true, and the reality that it seems he’d been right deep-down about who Steve Harrington was.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve’s protesting through laughter, but once they both seem to catch back their breaths he likewise leans back to something serious, and Wayne sees into the living room how Eddie’s stretched on top of Steve, with Steve reaching up and holding him by the cheeks:

“I won’t take it if you,” and Steve’s clearin’ his throat, something Wayne’s noticed is like a squaring of shoulders, whether that part’s there at the same time or not; “I won’t take it, not if it means,” and it’s a painful thing the way Steve swallows, the click of it somethin’ Wayne can hear all the way in to kitchen:

“I won’t take it, and not be with you.”

And that…that Wayne don’t quite get, and he feels wrong-footed for more than just listening in, as if that weren’t enough on its own, plus the cause of the problems he’d been wrestling to start, but then: “What?”

Ed seems just as puzzled, which makes Wayne feel a little less bamboozled, but still not…still not settled with whatever’s causin’ any of it, because now that Wayne’s got real context, he thinks back a-ways, to how Steve had mentioned a promotion, but was then looking at something better all around, regional-sort of stuff; now that he’s got context, he thinks back to the morning-last, and tries to pick apart what he’d heard without an invitation, if it weren’t about the lady friend. Steve had still been so worried, with the banging of the head on the table—and how could he think Eddie’d be anything but as thrilled as he clearly is right now for his boy? Wayne’s never seen Eddie as proud of anyone or anything, so much as he is for Steve just breathing in the world at all—and damn it all if the sentiment hasn’t rubbed off a little, and sure Wayne knows Steve’s history’s made him gun-shy to celebrate the bright spots but…

“It’s in Indy,” Steve’s spelling out, and Wayne remembers that being tossed about, and well: regional. That’d make sense.

“And you,” Steve pauses, and the breath he takes in next is a shaky-echoing thing; “for now you’re here, but not for long, because you want to go and try doing music, right, and that means New York or L.A. or somewhere big, not the armpit of fucking Indiana, and—”

“Breathe, Stevie,” Eddie cuts in quick, adoring; coaches with such patience, the care in it—the love in it a tangible thing; “in, and out,” and all of a sudden from nowhere, save from everywhere and every moment leading into this—

Suddenly Wayne blinks, and out the clear blue he’s witnessing the man Eddie’s grown into.

Talk about bein’ proud.

“One more,” Eddie coaxes a gentle, and Steve listens, Wayne hears as he gulps in the air carefully and deep, sees them move in the corner of his eye as Eddie sits up proper now and folds forward into Steve’s chest where he muffles what he says, less for hiding and more maybe to press it firm into Steve’s chest so it can’t be denied, because it’ll be on the inside and settled there sure:

“Fuck, I love you.”

And Wayne has that feelin’ again like he ain’t supposed to be party to the particular degree of intimacy in the moment; maybe he lets the plates on the counter clank a little more’n necessary to remind them casually that they ain’t alone.

But discretion’s not what follows, more like the wet slip of mouths against each other and oh, well then: if the boys don’t seem to view Wayne’s presence in the next room as a deterrent then Wayne’s just gonna keep at feelin’ embarrassed, rather’n guilty to boot.

“Steve,” and Ed’s voice goes warm and low and Wayne tries to not feel bad for hearing, more focuses on bein’ happy, and grateful, for this thing his boy found in maybe the most unlikely of places, through the hardest round out of hell he could have met: he gets a thing here that Wayne wasn’t sure he still believed could even be, not with so much hate in the world as there is.

“Me and the boys, we’re good, but we’re not,” and Eddie huffs, a light thing that feels gentle and almost joyful, like he’s celebratin’ a thing that’s not inside the same words he speaks at all:

“We’re not that��good.”

“Bullshit,” Steve’s quick to counter, like it means more than it reads on the label somehow, too, and still it’s said with his whole throat, at that: and at that, Wayne can’t help but grin a little himself.

He knew he wasn’t wrong about the heart of Steve Harrington. About how much this young man loves his boy.

“Steve,” and Wayne watches, don’t even make a secret of it now: watches over the lip of his mug because he’d only dared to hope for this kinda thing idly, and always feeling foolish for it, for his Eddie to find something even a smidgen close to what he’s got here; what they’ve got here as Ed reaches and tips Steve chin just a touch.

“I don’t want to waste years trying to fit a mold even by being a freak, trying to sell my brand of weird and hoping people get it,” Eddie tells him, clear-eyed like Wayne’s not sure he’s ever heard him. “I don’t want to put that much of my life into a maybe,” and then he’s tracing Steve’s jaw with a tenderness he was never taught, so it’s just something natural and pure inside him, brought out just so by this one man in his arms as he whispers so soft-hearted and with more love than feels possible even just to watch:

“Not when I’ve got what my whole heart wants most.”

And Wayne sees Steve’s jaw work under Eddie’s touch as he asks so low, and far too timid for a man Wayne’s seen live up to the monster-slaying he’s heard tell of.

“More than music?”

And it’s asked like he could never believe it; like he couldn’t expect it.

But Eddie’s back to the clear-eyed sureness, then. He has no doubts.

“More than fame,” is what he answers, flipping hands through Steve’s hair as he leans just to whisper:

“You’re the music,” and Wayne watches Steve still, his face scrunch like it does when he thinks he feels too much; “my music,” and Steve would be embarrassed to know Wayne hears the tiny little whimper that he gives when Eddie presses a kiss to the space between his eyebrows, and there’s part of him that’s embarrassed for himself in it, to have heard what’s not his, but if he’s honest he’s still stuck in that gratitude, that relief for this way it’s all shaken out, not to mention how Wayne’s little family that he never intended to start’s now feeling complete where he didn’t think there was anything left to add, to grow.

“And I have music with you as much as anywhere,” Eddie’s explaining with a wobbly little grin; “plus with you, even the music’s sweeter.”

Then he’s cupping Steve cheeks again and pressing forehead into forehead so that Wayne can only hear the barest whisper:

“Lead the way, baby, and I’ll follow with fucking bells on.”

And Steve, he’s quiet, leans back into the cushions a little and Wayne watches unabashed about it now as Steve studies Eddie, takes him in less like he’s weighing anything and more like he’s committing to memory a moment worth knowing everything about in full, and then he’s the one framing Eddie’s face in his hands and asking with a certainty he didn’t have before, and that fits him so much better:

“Move in with me? Leave here, and leave all the shit they say and the way they look at you and how they fucking treat you,” Steve damn near growls and Wayne feels all the more why he trusts Steve Harrington, and should never have even considered doubting, no matter if the mere suggestion was something he knew was pressing up against his better judgement from the start, because this is the man who loves his boy enough to take on the world, and tear it to shreds when the need rears its ugly head.

“Come with me?”

And that’s maybe a little more of the hesitance, and again, it sounds wrong as a rule, but Eddie’s quick as anything:

“It’ll take me less than a hour to pack.”

And he’s on his feet in a second and Wayne has to bite back a snort because that’ll give him away more’n anything else, but Steve’s pulling Eddie back to the sofa again in a heartbeat:

“Not that fast,” he laughs, a breathy little chuckle that’s got so much more to it even to Wayne’s ears, that’s disbelief and a little wondering joy and everything this boy deserves and has done his whole goddamn life, and heaven help his parents if Wayne ever sees them again face to face for all they ever did to make their son feel less; “got a couple months, I’ll drive up for training while the other guy’s wrapping up, then,” and he shrugs, Wayne hears it shuffle against the upholstery, then he sees Steve looking up from guarded lashes, just that little bit of uncertainty left—

“Then,” Eddie prods, meets him in that moment of waffling, of fear in trusting to feel all that they do, so visible you don’t even have to search it out. It just shines through, couldn’t deny it if you tried, and sure as hell not for how giddy, how overfull Eddie sounds then with…promise.

Ain’t no other word for it.

Ain’t no other thing Steve could latch to like he does, wholehearted and unfettered where before he was still fighting old chains.

Not no more.

“There’s a record store that needs a new manager,” Steve starts off; “a tattoo shop that’s taking apprentices, and they also need someone to watch the books,” and it’s a list, he’s listing opportunities, he’s counting out the promise; “a music store, like for instruments and stuff, that needs someone who can work but also maybe teach, because they want to start giving lessons, apparently people keep asking for them, and then there’s—”

Steve’s cut clear off, and Wayne don’t have to be in the room to know it’s for being kissed within an inch of his life.

“I love you,” Eddie’s saying again because it’s more’n a given, but it’s sounding like it’s shaping into something a little different, a little deeper, somehow a something that’s more.

“I love you so much, Steve Harrington,” and Eddie’s voice is rough with it, and Wayne ain’t gonna lie to himself that his eyes sting to hear it, even if no one can see and hold him to bein’ honest about it.

“You looked for jobs for me?” Eddie asks small, the first thing here that’s maybe overwhelmed him good and true, and in the best of all ways.

“Yeah?” Steve says it like it’s obvious, then goes back bashful nearly:

“For if you said yes.”

And then the springs of the couch are doin’ the heavy lifting again as Steve huffs and Eddie pounces.

“I fucking,” and there a pause that sounds a lot like more kissin’, which tracks along right, yeah: “I fuckin’ love you.”

And Steve chuckles, and Wayne just shakes his head, smiles down at his coffee while Eddie’s tone sobers, while he asks a little small:

“You thought there was a chance in hell that I’d say no?”

“I,” and Steve sounds chagrined, in that way that Wayne’s come to recognize means there’s an old hurt he’s covering, but one that might have a shot at makin’ a scab finally to close for good. “Robin thought I was being dumb, but I,” and he blows out a long breath, and Wayne glances to watch Eddie rub up and down Steve’s arms, waiting and being right there and oh, true as anything.

That’s the man his boy’s grown into.

“People don’t really,” Steve says slow, but measured, like he’s planning every letter out to land just so: ”people haven’t…stuck around, y’know?”

And Wayne can’t help but look to see how Eddie’s hands stop at Steve’s wrists, grounding and holding and keeping, sort of, or not sort of: absolutely that without room to misinterpret or think any bit less; same as Wayne won’t try to pretend away the bitterness at the back of his own throat that a boy as good as the one he’s learned Steve Harrington to be could think that of himself not just in passing, but as a preordained thing, an inflexible rule for always.

Makes him sick; makes him angrier than he tries to ever be these days, but good goddamn if this don’t warrant it.

“So asking someone to come with, to not just not leave but to chose to go, with m—”

And Steve’s saying things, and Eddie lets him but only to a point, and Wayne doesn’t see how he stops him, but he knows full well he’d stop still in the middle of a sound himself if the tone that comes out his boy were leveled his way: unshakable. Granite-strong, diamond-hard.

“Listen to me,” and oh, but for all the way it lands intense, the love in it’s a thing to behold and marvel at just to hear; he feels like it could undo a man to be under the gaze that tone comes alone with it, like Steve has to be sitting just now: “listen to me so fucking close right now.”

And maybe Wayne leans in, too, whether it’s meant for him or not:

“I will choose, with my whole goddamn chest, with every piece of me there is in the whole fucking world,” Eddie says, puts emphasis and feeling on each and every word; “to go anywhere, if it’s with you.”

And it’s silent for a minute, but then Wayne only just hears the sound of mouths parting and sharp intakes of breath ringing through the sill and Eddie hisses, a little hoarse, a little broken, entirely with all that he is, just like he said:

“Always.”

Then the couch goes about protestin’ again, but it’s Eddie who Wayne makes out for groaning on impact, and it makes sense that it’s Steve’s voice now breathing harsh through the vow of what comes next:

“Love you,” and there’s the kissing again; “love you so goddamn much.”

And Wayne figures he’s had more’n enough of overhearing what’s not quite his to hear, but here’s the thing.

These boys are gonna be at this for a bit, he reckons, and the coffee’s already half-gone and lukewarm besides. They’ve got money to be a little indulgent with these days, courtesy of Uncle Sam, plus Mary at the plant said the rhododendrons actually like coffee anyway.

So he figures he can justify brewing another pot, if for no other reason than to start the day off better than he’d been expecting by one helluva country mile and then some.

♥️

✨also on ao3

For @thefreakandthehair, who requested 'Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

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[steveseddie]

full circle

steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,8k | cw: mention of throwing up | tags: pre-season 4, different first meetings, eddie is afraid of heights, steve is a sweetheart, holding hands, first kiss

for week one of @softsteddieseptember using the prompt “facing your fears” 

read on ao3 here

Jeff and Gareth stumble out of the Ferris Wheel and Eddie snorts out a laugh.  

Jeff is struggling to keep them both upright as Gareth leans all of his weight on him, his face alarmingly green. Jeff manages to get them to the picnic table where Eddie is sitting without Gareth barfing but when he plops down next to Eddie he scoots away, putting some distance between them just in case. 

“Shouldn’t’ve gone on the Ferris Wheel after swallowing three fucking corn dogs, Gare,” Eddie sniggers, taking a drag of the cig he’d been smoking while his two friends were spinning fifty feet from the ground. 

“Don’t-” Gareth mumbles, cutting himself off with a gagging sound that makes Eddie sit on top of the table just to put more space between them. “Don’t mention corn dogs. Or food,” he finishes meekly, hunching forward and burying his face in his hands.  

Jeff gives him a pat on the shoulder. “It’s your fault, man,” he tells Eddie, who gasps, affronted by the accusation. “If you didn’t fuck off to go take a piss then Gareth wouldn’t’ve had to go on it with me.” 

Eddie shrugs, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Whatcha want me to say, Jeff? When you gotta go, you gotta go.” 

(The truth is Eddie didn’t have to go. 

He lied about it and then wandered around the fairgrounds aimlessly until he was certain Jeff and Gareth had gone on the Ferris Wheel.

Because Eddie is terrified of heights, a fact no one but his uncle is aware of given how cool and unmetal it is.)

“Ugh, I gotta go,” Gareth grumbles, stumbling over to some bushes before throwing up all over them. 

Eddie recoils with a grimace. “Dude!”  

Gareth pulls himself together. He wipes his mouth and glares at him over his shoulder. “Shut up, Ed, you wouldn’t be doing any better if it was you who went up-” He pauses, narrowing his eyes at Eddie. “Wait, how come I’ve never seen you go on the Ferris Wheel?” 

Oh crap. 

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie shrugs, lying as convincingly as he can. “Many times.”

Jeff studies him curiously. “No, no, Gare, is right. We’ve been coming here for three years and you’ve never been on it with us!”

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie insists. “Just you know with other people.” 

They both snort. “Oh yeah?” Jeff asks. “Who?” 

“Yeah, Eddie, you don’t have any other friends,” Gareth adds. 

“I do!” Eddie protests, waving his hands like it will make names appear out of thin air. “I have Freak!”

Jeff raises an eyebrow. “What’s his real name?” 

“Uh-” Eddie shrugs. “Freak?” 

Gareth shakes his head. The color is back on his face but Eddie wishes he’d go back to hurling his guts out. “If I didn’t know any better, Eddie, I’d say you’re afraid to go on it.” 

“Pfffft,” Eddie slaps his knee with a laugh. “I am not.”

“Prove it then,” Gareth says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?” 

“Go on the Ferris Wheel now.”

“Uh, can I finish my cig first?” Eddie asks, trying to stall.

But his friends won’t let him. “No,” they say at the same time. 

Well, shit.

“Ugh, fiiiiiine,” Eddie says, throwing his arms up in a tantrum before snuffing the cig against the table.

He stands up and, flanked by his two friends, starts walking towards the Ferris Wheel. As he does, he considers the pros and cons of fleeing- he’s gotten very good at running from people and neither Gareth nor Jeff are as quick as some of the jocks he’s had to outrun before.

But Eddie realizes he might not need to run away when they reach the line just as the guy manning the ride opens the last car to let the last two people in.

“Won’t you look at that!” Eddie whirls around, clapping his hands together. “It’s full! Oh well, there’s always next year!” 

He throws his arms around Jeff and Gareth and starts dragging them away. Only for them to stop in their tracks when there’s a voice behind them. 

“We have one spot left!” The guy announces. “One spot left! Who wants to ride?” 

Gareth whirls around. “He does!” He says, pointing at Eddie who curses inwardly. “He’ll do it. Right, Eddie?” 

Through gritted teeth, Eddie mutters ‘if you insist’ because what other fucking choice does he have?

He makes his way to the front of the line like a man stepping into the gallows, jaw clenched and hands balled up into fists at his sides pausing again just as he’s about to get on. 

Because sitting on the Ferris Wheel car is no other than Steve fucking Harrington.

He wants to do this even less now knowing that Harrington will be sitting next to him as he tries not to shit his pants. The last thing he wants is the King of Hawkins High to go around sharing that with everyone.

“Dude, are you getting in or not?” The guy asks when Eddie just stands there, an annoyed tilt to his voice. 

Eddie glances over his shoulder to find Gareth and Jeff giving him two thumbs up, matching smirks on their faces. He flips them off, ignoring the scandalized gasp from a mother waiting in line with her son. 

Then he glances back at the car- at Harrington, who is staring at him with an impatient bitchy look. The King probably isn’t happy about sharing a Ferris Wheel car with the Freak.

Yeah, well, the feeling is fucking mutual. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going in,” Eddie says anyway, sliding into his seat. He does his best to ignore Harrington as the guy lowers the safety bar on their laps- as well as the dread that has settled on his belly. 

It only grows as they start moving. 

“Enjoy your ride,” the guy tells them with fake cheerfulness. 

Eddie fights the urge to flip him off too. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, grabbing the safety bar with a death grip as their car starts to rise. They keep rocking back and forth and Eddie’s stomach falls out of his ass every time. “Fuck me.” 

Next to him, Harrington lets out a snort. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson.”

Eddie snaps his head towards him- Harrington is leaning back against his seat with a smirk, seemingly not caring at all about the fact that they’re about to be thirty feet from the ground. Asshole.

“Hardy-har-har, Harrington,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying not to let his voice waver.

As far as comebacks go, it’s a lame one and Harrington must notice. “Geez, man. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine.” 

Harrington glances down at Eddie’s hands on the safety bar with a pointed look. “Really? Because you look like you’re trying to snap that bar in half.”

Eddie glances down and sees that he’s white-knuckling the safety bar. He loosens his hold a little. “I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Mind your own business, Your Majesty.” 

“Christ, Munson, what’s your problem?” Harrington huffs out a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh. “And don’t call me that. You don’t hear me calling you Freak.”

To Eddie, they’re not the same. He thought someone like Harrington would enjoy being reminded about his popular status in high school- even if Eddie’s tone is mocking. But it seems the whole King thing struck a nerve.

“My problem is-” Eddie starts, meaning to tell Harrington that it’s him even if Eddie hasn’t had a problem with him in particular since he graduated but then their car jerks and his words trail off into a whimper. 

“This fucking deathtrap, shit. Okay, I’m not fine,” he admits, eyes screwed shut as they reach the top. “I'm like terrified of heights, okay? Which is fucking lame and super unmetal of me so go ahead, laugh it up.”

He waits to hear it- Harrington’s laugh but there’s only silence. 

Eddie peeks at him through one eye.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Harrington says, his eyebrows knitted in a way that’s frankly kinda cute. 

Cute? Jesus Christ, Eddie, not the time.

“Why not?” He asks. “It’s what you jocks do.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t been a jock for a while, man.”

Eddie guesses that’s true. Even before he graduated, Harrington had stopped being a jock under Eddie’s definition of the word. He still played basketball, but he didn’t pick on Eddie or the other nerds and now he’s not laughing at him for being afraid of heights even though if the roles were reversed Eddie would probably get a few laughs in himself. 

Maybe he should cut Harrington some slack.

“Why are you riding the Ferris Wheel anyway?” He asks after a short silence. “If you don’t like heights?” 

Another mind your own business rests at the tip of Eddie’s tongue but he did just say he’d cut him some slack. Besides, Eddie is slowly realizing that talking to Harrington is helping keep him distracted from where they are right now. 

“Well, my friends think I’m scared-”

“You are,” Harrington interjects with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Eddie accepts with an eye roll even if he feels his mouth tick up. “But they don’t need to know that, I have a reputation to uphold.” 

“With your friends?”

“With my friends, the school.” Eddie clicks his tongue. “ Society.”

Harrington snorts out a startled sort of chuckle, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Well, I won’t tell society,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

He bumps their shoulders together and it makes the car tip forward. Eddie bites down on a very embarrassing scream. Harrington grimaces. “Shit, sorry.” 

“Why are you- why are you riding the Ferris Wheel?” Eddie asks. “You can’t possibly enjoy this, man.”

“It’s not so bad,” Harrington shrugs. “I like the view, especially at sunset.”

“Ah,” Eddie smiles teasingly. “I bet you bring all the pretty girls up here, hold their hand if they get scared.” 

Harrington raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting I hold your hand, Munson?” 

Is he? Eddie looks down at Steve’s hands. They’re nice hands and Eddie has to admit that the thought of holding one of them right now doesn’t exactly make him want to jump off this car. 

It makes his heat build in his cheeks actually. “Fuck off, no, I’m-” 

“Because I would,” Harrington interjects, “if you wanted me to.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I- uh. You- no, you wouldn’t.” 

Harrington tilts his head, watching Eddie with a mixture of amusement and something else. If Eddie didn’t know any better he’d say Harrington finds it endearing- how nervous Eddie is. What the hot fuck?

Harrington holds out his hand, palm up, in the space between them. 

Eddie can only stare at it like it’s going to bite him or like Harrington is going to jerk it back and laugh at him for falling for the joke. He does neither. He wiggles his fingers and Eddie, who might be oxygen-deprived from the height, lets go of the bar with one hand, wipes it on his jeans, and grabs Harrington’s. 

He links their fingers together loosely and gives Eddie a little half-smirk, half-smile that he bets left a girl or two giggling back in the day. Right now it makes Eddie’s heart stutter in a wildly different way than being this far from the ground does. 

The ground, which is currently far, far away. Shit. The reminder makes him grip Harrington’s hand tighter and it’s really nice- warm and soft instead of cold and hard like the safety bar. Eddie looks down at their joined hands, and focuses on that- on how big Steve’s hand is and how many freckles are dusted over the back of it, how he doesn’t seem to mind that Eddie’s rings are probably digging painfully into his skin with how hard he’s holding on to him. 

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a shaky laugh. “Um, thanks, man, for not laughing and like, not being a dick about this.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to be less of a dick these days.”

“And how’s that working out for ya?” 

Harrington’s nose scrunches up. “I’m alone at the Ferris Wheel, Eddie, so what do you think?” 

Eddie chuckles. “Oh, so what am I? Chopped liver?”

“No!” Harrington counters quickly. “Just not who I thought I’d end up riding the Ferris Wheel with.”

“Oh how you wound me, Steve,” Eddie says with an exaggerated pout. 

“Shut up, you’re the one who’s wounding me,” he says playfully, using his free hand to gesture at where his other one is still trapped by Eddie’s. “Think you’re cutting off circulation to my hand.” 

Eddie loosens his hold a little, his cheeks pinking up again. “Fuck, sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Steve says, giving it a squeeze. “Robin and I went to see this gross movie once called The Thing and I’m pretty sure I almost lost all my fingers from how hard she was gripping my hand.” 

Eddie blinks. “Robin Buckley? From band?” He asks and Steve nods. “I didn’t know you two were friends or is it- are you two like-” 

Jesus, why do you even care, Munson? Talk about minding your own business. 

“Oh no,” Steve replies even if Eddie didn’t finish the question. “I love Robin, but she’s just my friend. My best friend. It’s tectonic.” 

Eddie tilts his head. “Do- do you mean platonic?” 

“Yeah, that,” Steve says, snapping his fingers and shooting a single finger gun in his direction. “She’s actually down there somewhere with- um, with someone else.” 

“Oh, Steve,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You’re third-wheeling your band nerd best friend? How the mighty have fallen truly.” 

Steve groans, throwing his head back but not before Eddie sees how his mouth twitches. “It gets worse, dude. I’m also here babysitting a bunch of fourteen-year-olds who are also nerds. Except for Max, she’s cool, she doesn’t play that- dorks and dweebs game the others are obsessed with.”

“Hold on, I’m sorry, do you mean Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie sputters, trying to wrap his head around everything he’s learning about Steve- horror movie enjoyer, nerd-sympathizer, a babysitter who sort of knows what Dungeons and Dragons is.

Steve purses his lips. “I think I like my name better.”

“Sure, buddy,” Eddie says with a snort. “Well, I’m sorry to inform you that I run an after-school club for that game so by hanging out with me your cool-o-meter just took an even bigger nose dive.”

“Well, goddamn it, Munson,” Steve says jokingly. 

“Bet you wish you got stuck with a pretty girl instead of me, huh, big boy?”

Steve falters at the name that truth be told slipped out of Eddie’s mouth without him realizing. A slight pink tinge shades his cheeks.

It’s nothing compared to the deep shade of red Eddie’s cheeks turn when Steve says, “Actually being stuck with a pretty boy is fine by me.”

A nearly hysterical laugh rushes from Eddie’s lips before he can help it. “A pretty- uh. What?” His heart is doing summersaults in his chest and Eddie tries hard to get it to calm down. Steve could be fucking with him. Fuck, is he? “Are you- Steve. Harrington. Are you fucking with me? ‘Cause you might’ve graduated and you might not be a jock anymore but I know you know what your teammates called me, man, you know I’m- and you fucking with me like that is not cool-”

“Woah, Eddie, hey. I’m not,” Steve assures him, pretty brown eyes wide like a startled deer. “It’s true, okay? You are pretty.”

Oh. 

An ugly strangled noise escapes Eddie. “Oh. Okay. Uh.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and shifts nervously in the seat. “Fuck, just forget I said that, I didn’t want to make things weird, okay? Just- yeah, forget it.”

“Who says I want to?” 

Steve’s eyebrows meet in the middle. Cute, Eddie thinks again. Oh, maybe it was the time after all. “Um, your face, man? You look like I splashed you with water and then threw a toaster at you or something.” 

“That’s- that’s actually a good way to describe how I feel, yeah,” Eddie agrees. Steve cringes slightly. “Not in a bad way! I’m just surprised! I didn’t know you-” liked boys? liked freaks? liked me?

Whatever he means, Steve gets it. “Yeah, I do,” he says, the tips of his ears turning pink. “It’s fine if you don’t or whatever-”

Eddie opens his mouth to assure him he does in fact like boys and freaks and Steve who might be a freak himself if this Ferris Wheel ride has taught Eddie anything-

Before he can though the Ferris Wheel screeches to a halt, their car rocking in place at the top. 

“Why- why are we stopping? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “It’s the last spin, they’re probably gonna stop each cart at the top for a few minutes.”

Eddie whines pathetically. “What? Why?”

“So people can watch the sunset? Make out?” Steve blushes. “Or something.”

The wind picks up and makes the car rock back and forth and Eddie groans. “Fucking great!”

“Hey, what do you need?” Steve asks, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. It’s almost enough to distract him from being stuck at the top. Almost. 

“To be back on solid ground? Or a distraction. Please distract me, Stevie,” Eddie says, feeling panic bubbling up inside him. He doesn’t even notice when the nickname slips out. 

Steve’s eyes flick over his face looking for something. He either finds it or gives up. Either way, he takes a deep breath. “Please don’t punch me for this.” 

“Punch you for-”

The last word dies in Eddie’s throat because Steve leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

For a beat, neither of them does anything. Then Steve’s free hand cups Eddie’s cheek and he moves his lips. Eddie makes a soft, needy noise in the back of his throat, his eyelids fluttering shut, and then he’s kissing Steve back. 

It’s a slow and lazy kiss but it’s enough to make Eddie forget where he is or that he’s supposed to be panicking. He even lets go of the safety bar just so he can get his fingers in Steve’s hair. 

They don’t break apart until the Ferris Wheel starts moving again, their car making its way down so they can finally get off this stupid thing. 

(Though it might be starting to grow on Eddie. Just a little.)

When they stop again so that the people in the next car can have their go at the top, Eddie’s stomach merely swoops and it might have more to do with the way Steve licks his pink, wet lips than with anything else. 

“Well, that’s one way to distract someone,” Eddie says, his voice coming out a little breathless. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve snorts, hanging a hand from his neck. “Thanks for not punching me.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter, baby,” Eddie says and watches delightedly how a flush creeps up Steve’s cheeks at the pet name. “I’d never punch you, your face is too pretty for that.”

A startled laugh tumbles from Steve’s lips. “So I could kiss you again?”

“I could be persuaded to do that again, yeah.” Eddie tilts his head, eyes darting a little anxiously over Steve’s face. “First I gotta know if this is like a ‘what happens in the Ferris Wheel stays in the Ferris Wheel’ kind of thing, you know?”

“Nah,” Steve says with a smile that edges on soft. “I was actually gonna drag you with me to the Hoop Shot game after this. Impress you a little.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks, grinning widely. “Gonna impress me with your jock moves?”

“Mhm. By winning you a stuffed animal too.”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, I told you, I have a reputation to uphold-”

“With society, yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll get you something metal like a bat! Or a dragon.”

“Hm,” Eddie taps his finger against his chin. “Get me both and it’s a deal!”

Steve’s eyes twinkle. “Does that mean I get two kisses?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie says, pitching his voice low and deep. Steve’s eyes widen slightly. “You can have way more than that.” 

They’re almost at the bottom now which is probably why Steve doesn’t lean in for another kiss right then and there when it’s clear that he wants to. This close to the ground, people could see and the last thing they want is an angry mob waiting for them at the bottom. 

They’re happy to just hold hands for what’s left of the ride. Despite Eddie not being scared anymore, neither of them considers letting go, not until the guy from before yanks the safety bar off their laps, stares curiously at their clasped hands for a second before his expression turns bored again, and waves them out of the car. 

Eddie climbs out and jogs down the steps, past the people waiting in line. His eyes dart over the people hanging around the Ferris Wheel, looking for Gareth and Jeff but his friends must’ve gotten bored and wandered off at some point because they’re nowhere to be seen. Whatever, he was gonna ditch them to hang out with Steve anyway. 

But Steve gets the wrong idea when he sees Eddie scanning the crowd. He scruffs his Nike against the ground and hangs a hand from his neck. “It’s okay if you wanna find your friends-”

“Fuck, no,” Eddie says quickly. “They’re big boys, they can get home on their own. Or not and it serves them right for forcing me to go on that deathtrap!”

“Oh, come on,” Steve says with a playful grin. 

“Fine, I guess it wasn’t that bad,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, the corners of his mouth ticking up. “What about you? You don’t have to find your baby nerds and make sure they’re okay?”

“Nope, those shitheads can take care of themselves,” Steve says. “I have more important things to do.”

“Like me?” Eddie asks with a ridiculous waggle of his eyebrows. It makes Steve tip his head back with a laugh. Eddie’s eyes zero in on the moles in the column on his neck, thoughts drifting to wanting to kiss every single one of them. 

“Maybe later,” he tells Eddie with a wink. His stomach swoops and this time it has nothing to do with gravity and heights. “C’mon, man, let’s get you that bat.”

Eddie holds his finger up, wagging it in front of Steve’s face. “And the dragon!” Eddie says, getting all up in Steve’s space as he starts walking in the direction of the Hoop Shot game. “Don’t forget the dragon!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Munson.”

(Steve gets him the bat. And the dragon. And cotton candy. And later follows Eddie home after dropping off his herd of fourteen-year-olds. Eddie lets him have two kisses and more just like he promised.)

(And he rides more than just the Ferris Wheel that day.)

[cjlouwho]

if you're still doing prompts: maybe eddie thinks he sees tommy cheating and confronts him only to find out just how wrong he is. thanks!

“Sorry, man, I can't. I took an extra shift.” That was what Tommy had told Eddie when Eddie asked if he wanted to go to their usual sports bar for beer and wings.

Which is why Eddie was very curious as to why Tommy was walking down the street, passing right by the bar on his way to wherever he was going.

Eddie kept watching as Tommy reached the crosswalk, stopping as he waited for traffic to clear.

Buck wasn't with him, but some other guy appeared to be. At least, he kept talking to Tommy, leaning in close and laughing at something Tommy said.

“This can't be good,” Eddie muttered. He could feel himself starting to get heated already.

The light at the crosswalk changed just as Eddie threw a twenty down for the wings he ordered but hadn't gotten yet. He hurried out of the bar and managed to make it to the crosswalk just as the hand lit up telling him not to cross.

He crossed anyway.

Eddie waved off the honks and hid behind a building until he was sure Tommy wouldn't be looking back toward the noise.

Slowly he peeked around the building and glanced around until he spotted Tommy again. He and this guy were continuing down the street, so that's what Eddie did too.

He made sure to keep enough distance between them, but honestly Tommy looked so enthralled with whatever conversation they were having that Eddie was pretty sure he wouldn't be noticed anyway.

He had half a mind to whip out his phone and start taking pictures and videos. Get proof of whatever was happening so he'd have evidence when he told Buck.

Because he had to tell Buck.

Because Buck was all in on this relationship. He was undeniably in love with Tommy. Together for a year now, living with one another for four months, and Buck often talked about their future.

He had to tell him before papers were signed; before things were made official.

It would break Buck's heart. Eddie knew that. He'd be out of it for weeks, maybe even months.

But how could Eddie let this continue while knowing that Tommy was a backstabbing, two-timing, cheating skank?

Okay, maybe he was beyond heated. It was possible he was livid.

It didn't make it any better that the two men had stopped now, and this unknown homewrecker was reaching out and putting his hand on Tommy's shoulder.

“Hey!” Eddie yelled before he could stop himself.

Tommy's head jerked toward him, wide-eyed. Like a deer in headlights. “Eddie. What... I-hi.”

“Hi? That's what you have to say to me? Hi?”

Tommy's face went from surprised to confused. “Would you prefer hello?”

“Don't play dumb with me, man! How could you do something like this?”

“You gotta help me out here, Eddie. What'd I do?”

“You lied to me, for one.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Sorry, Eddie, I just had this thing I had to do today and I didn't want anyone knowing about it.”

“That's what you call this? A thing? Right in front of him?” He motioned to the man, who seemed a bit anxious at the moment.

“Well, it's not like he doesn't know what I'm doing.”

“Of course he knows! Buck's the only one who doesn't know. Have you thought about that? Have you spared a second to think about your boyfriend in all of this?”

“He's kinda all I've been thinking about during this.”

Eddie put one hand on his hip, the other pointed at Tommy. “I'm so close to punching you right in the face, Tommy.”

“I'd rather you didn't,” Tommy deadpanned. “Eddie, would you like to meet Gordon? He's the owner of the jewelry shop we're standing in front of.”

“You're cheating on Buck with Gordon? Really, Tommy? Gordon?” Part of Eddie felt a little bad. Gordon wasn't a bad looking guy. He was shorter than both of them, short brown hair and even browner eyes. He wasn't very muscular, but the suit he wore fit him well. Tattoos peeked out from underneath his collar, and the black frame of his glasses really tied the whole look together.

Still, he wasn't Buck, and they both needed to know that!

Tommy's eyebrows rose. “I'm doing what with who now?” he asked as Gordon shook his head nervously.

“Oh, no. That, um. No.”

“And you're gonna do it in his jewelry store? Shame on you, Tommy. Shame!”

“Eddie, I'm gonna need you to take it down like ten notches. I'm not cheating on Evan.”

“Then what's with the lying?” Eddie questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. “And Gordon?”

“Like I said before, Gordon owns the jewelry shop we're standing in front of. We met a few months ago on a call. We got to talking and that's when he told me about this place. He's usually closed today, but he was kind enough to bring me here on his day off so I could pick up the ring.”

Sometimes it took Eddie a minute to connect the dots, but he always got there. “Ring?” he questioned, his tone lighter now.

“Yeah. Ring.”

“You mean like an eng-”

“Engagement ring, yes.”

“Oh... Oh!” Now Eddie was smiling brightly, holding out his hand to Gordon for a shake. “Great to meet you, man! I'm Eddie.”

“H- Hi, Eddie.” Gordon returned the shake, but he was still a little nervous, and very confused.

“Gordon,” Tommy explained, “Eddie is Evan's best friend. I was supposed to hang out with him today, but I lied and said I had to work. My mistake.”

“Mm,” Gordon nodded. “It's starting to make sense now. Would you both like to come in?”

“Yes, we would,” Eddie answered, following behind Gordon as he unlocked the door.

“I'll go get it from the back,” Gordon said, locking the door back once they were inside. “It may take me a minute, but shouldn't be too long.”

Once Gordon had left them in the front of the store, Tommy turned to Eddie. “I can't believe you thought I'd cheat on Evan. Are you crazy?”

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “I couldn't believe it, that's why I was so mad! Why didn't you tell me this is what you were doing?”

Tommy took a deep breath. “I was nervous. Figured if he said no, at least no one would know I'd asked.”

“He's not gonna say no.”

“You don't know that.”

“Dude, he's not gonna say no.”

“But what if he does, Eddie? What if I screw it up somehow?” Tommy rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. “I want it to be perfect. He deserves that.”

Gordon came back out then, box in hand. “Here you go, Mr. Kinard. Make sure everything is perfect before you pay.”

“You didn't have to pay for it yet?” Eddie asked as Tommy took the box.

“No,” Tommy answered, glancing up at Eddie. “Another kind thing he did was let me wait until it was engraved before I paid. Because he's a nice person.”

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned, then turned to Gordon. “Sorry for calling you a homewrecker, man. I didn't mean it.”

“I... I didn't know you called me a homewrecker.”

“That might've been in my head. Still, sorry.”

Gordon felt in a little over his head here. This Eddie person was... interesting. “That's okay.”

Tommy stared down at the ring, biting at his lip.

“Gordon,” Eddie flashed him a smile, “could you give us a couple more minutes? Then we'll pay and be out of your hair.”

“No problem.”

Once he'd retreated back to his office, Eddie moved closer to Tommy. “What's engraved on it?”

Tommy pulled the ring out of the box and handed it to Eddie. Silver with a gold band running down the center, dots and dashes on the inside. “It's um, it's morse code. It just says “ILY” for I love you, obviously, but the morse code is the special part.”

“Why's that?”

Eddie watched as Tommy smiled at whatever memory was popping into his head. “They still taught morse code when I was in the army, and when Evan found out I knew it he was determined to learn. We'd practice every time we were together.”

“I remember him doing that at work too.”

Tommy nodded. “Yup. He had it down in a month. We still use it whenever we can. He'll tap something out on my thigh, or even blink something at me from across a room.”

Eddie placed the ring back into the box. “Propose to me.”

Tommy stared at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“Propose to me,” he repeated.

“Wh... Why, exactly?”

“You said you were worried the proposal wouldn't be perfect. That you'd screw it up. Practice on me, and I'll let you know.”

“That's insane.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Two months ago you and I parachuted out of a plane when the engine failed and got lost in the mountains for nearly two days. That was insane. This is being prepared.”

Tommy looked down at the ring, then to Eddie, then back at the ring, then back at Eddie. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Eddie clapped his hands together. “Okay, go.”

After a slow inhale, he began. “Evan.”

“Yes, Pooh Bear?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, tilting his head. “He doesn't call me that.”

“I've seen the texts, man.”

“Forget it. I'm not doing this with you.”

As he turned to walk away, Eddie grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him back in. “Okay, okay. I'll be serious. Now, come on. Propose to me.”

Tommy sighed. “Fine, but I'm not kneeling.”

“That's okay, I'll pretend.”

Tommy straightened his posture and cleared his throat before beginning again.

“Evan.”

“Tommy.”

“Growing up, I never thought I'd find love. Not real love, anyway. I thought that maybe, if I was lucky, I could fabricate it. Play pretend and be fine with settling. Then, as I got older, I realized how unfair that was to me, and to whoever I would have ended up with.”

Tommy blinked away the tears that were blurring his vision as he continued. “I went through life with people, friends and colleagues that kept me busy, but I felt alone. And then you came along, and you lit up my world. Every doubt that I had collected over time slowly washed away with each smile we shared. Getting to do life with you over this past year has been an honor. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about when I fall asleep. If you would, I'd love us to have each other for the rest of our lives. So, Evan,” Tommy opened the box, presenting the ring to Eddie. “Will you marry me?”

Eddie stood there, staring between the ring and Tommy for what felt like an eternity, his own eyes red-rimmed and doe-like. “Holy hell,” he managed to utter out.

Nervously, Tommy asked, “You think he'll say yes?”

“Well, if he doesn't, I will!” Eddie took a step forward and wrapped Tommy in a hug, earning a surprised, “Oomph,” out of him.

“Yes,” Eddie said, patting his back. “He'll say say.”

When he finally pulled away, Tommy was smiling. He let out a shaky breath. “Okay, okay. So, buy the ring, then?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, man. Buy the ring.”

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Astro Notes : Short N' Sweet - Saturn's Theme

Saturn in the 1st - Emotional creatures, you just don't know it. Definitely isn't visible to the eye, they wear it well. They can handle themselves better than most. This is not only a compliment, but it also shows how they can be emotional stable even if they don't feel that way. Saturn here makes you grounded in the physical reality more. So you tend to get back on your feet quicker than most.

Saturn in the 2nd - Financial struggles at an earlier age has prompted them to force themselves into roles where getting to the bag is the higher goal. I mean, its a must. You gotta have it all, and they know how to get it. They're pretty practical here, and most can handle their advice when it comes to material needs and finances. They won't go crazy on the spending, but they'll at least make sure their needs are met.

Saturn in the 3rd - Prompt speakers. Intelligent leaders. Shapeshifters with their words. Charismatic thinkers that can charm you with their smile. Their needs are met when they have someone important to them that listens. When they're screaming inside, someone who just knows them well and can feel it without them saying anything is what they want. They are emotional readers, can sense danger ahead or when a problem is going to start.. Very majestic flow and auras. Problem solvers!

Saturn in the 4th - Soft spoken individuals who crave attention that isn't just when they're committing to labor. Not your mommy and daddy, so don't bring all your issues to them. Can be sweet and loving to people who are kind to them. They could turn this off quickly depending on who you are. Super swift, and can create a foundation like no other. After seeing what they were living with they know what is right for them and are committed to receiving it.

Saturn in the 5th - Teachers of the art. Self mastery at they're passions and hobbies comes at a price, but a great one at that. Can be an intellectual or an artistic. No matter what, its always a great time with them. Magical authors. Creative thinkers. Special characters they are. Life is art, & so they make it sweet.

Saturn in the 6th - Figures of authority. People who can manage a room. Natural leaders. People tend to make you the lead even if you don't like it. Can have a tendency to do more than what they need but this comes from a place of always over extending themselves to people. There is a time and place for all of it, this group has to allow themselves to be on the receiving end. Balance is key!

Saturn in the 7th - Captain save a ho's. Lol. Jokes. ;) But seriously, you see a damsel in the distress and you might try and change em. You can also be a great lover, that isn't up to debate. Very old school & traditional. Can be the life of the party. Needs somebody who keeps the momentum going. Can be alienated by authorative figures a lot, its because you're one of them, you just don't see it yet.

Saturn in the 8th - At a young age they knew they we're meant for something. Something that would shake the world. Secrets of the unknown tend to carry them to a long journey. A journey that leads them to their final destination. The path less spoken for, but the bravest tend to move mountains here. <3

Saturn in the 9th - Excellent learners. Yearn for something deeper. Could move into religion or stick to something that speaks to them and helps them grow in this lifetime. They are committed to whatever fits their beliefs, and they sit with them and mature into them gracefully.

Saturn in the 10th - The masters of what they came to achieve. They believed they could be more and so it was. A dream to be a prominent somebody, its a gift & a curse is it not? Spellbounding auras, and a respectable presence nonetheless.

Saturn in the 11th - Could only have 1 or 2 friends that mean the world to them. They're big on achieving goals not having a bunch of friends. Can be very standoffish but theres some history behind it. When they want to be, they can be very sweet and nurturing. Can bring acts of service to a group of people if its time to.

Saturn in the 12th - Creative thinkers. Beyond this realm. Have difficulties with aligning with sources that don't match their integrity. Can bring people to their knees with just their mind power. The truth is, they must choose wisely with what they ask for because saturn here blesses them with it. Be careful what you wish for ;) Its a commitment that changes things.