#i need to see tommy lose his cool

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

help me forget. l Joel Miller

Summary: you broke down and Joel was the only one who could help you

Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, unprotected sex, two dead bodies, mention of blood, Reader has a crisis, Ellie is in it

A/N: did i add something again? i have another exam on saturday and i'm going through a crisis. sorry for the mistakes, i wanted to write it and add it today.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"I'm sure everything's fine. Something just had to stop them."

Joel tore his eyes from the horizon and looked at Ellie, her fingers gripping the railing, her eyes fixed on the distance.

"Yeah, you're probably right." he replied, trying to keep his voice casual.

He didn't want to show her that he was already nervous. Something was tightening painfully in his gut, you should have been back by now.

He didn't like the idea, but you quickly calmed his thoughts. Tommy, Shane, you and a few other men were going on a three-day trip to a nearby town. Supplies needed to be replenished, and the growing school in Jackson would be happy to accept new equipment. 

If Joel had been nervous up until now, he was like a ticking bomb now. Ellie could see he was worried, she felt the same. The whole group should have been back in the morning, it was getting late and there was no sign of you.

"Go home, kid." he muttered "I'll let you know when they get back."

"No way!" Ellie got offended "I'm going to give her a hard time when she finally shows up."

They fell silent again, staring at the spot where the familiar car should have appeared. Minutes passed, the sun was setting, until finally Ellie shouted "They're coming!" and Joel's heart began to beat faster. 

However, when he finally breathed a sigh of relief, he noticed something disturbing in the approaching vehicle. Something bad had happened...

The gate opened and the entire group entered Jackson. Maria stood by Joel, looking out for his brother, soon her face lit up.

"Tommy! Thank God!" she cried, throwing herself into the arms of the man who got out of the car.

He hugged her tightly, but it was Joel who caught his eye. The lump in his throat grew painfully. His gaze swept over the group, searching for a familiar face, the one he was so worried about, the one he needed to see alive.

"We met another group." Tommy said. "We lost two people..."

Joel's legs almost buckled. But he didn't have time to say anything, not even take a breath when another car door opened and he finally saw you. In a few quick steps he was already by your side, strong arms hugging you to his chest. Only when he let go of you did he notice the already dried cut above your eyebrow, some scratch on your cheek, but you were alive.

But something was wrong. Joel sensed it immediately. Your gaze... Something changed in your eyes.

"What happened? Who did we lose?" Maria asked.

Tommy gave two names and everyone fell silent for a moment. Ellie took advantage of this moment to run up to you and hug you tightly.

"You look terrible." she said "But I'm glad you decided to come back."

"I'm fine..." you replied quietly, stroking her hair "I have something for you." you pulled something out of your belt, which turned out to be a comic book in pretty good shape.

"Oh! Cool!"

Joel noticed his brother's gaze, he clearly wanted to say something, but then he looked at you and seemed a bit confused. He understood him.

"Ellie, take her to the clinic. Let someone see her." he said.

"I'm fine." you replied, but Ellie had already grabbed your hand.

"Come on, you'll tell me everything." she said, pulling you towards the clinic building. Only when you were gone did Tommy finally speak up.

"Six, maybe seven men. We ran into them when we were about to leave the city."

"Riders?" Maria asked.

Tommy shrugged. "Possibly. We'll never know. They started shooting at the car, they wanted to scare us first."

"I hit some wreck." Shane walked up to them, he also had a few scratches on his face, but he was fine, he looked at Joel "I hit it pretty hard. That's how she cut her forehead."

Joel nodded. The cut was a small payment for bringing you back alive.

"We got into a fight. It was really bad." Tommy continued, and Maria folded her arms tighter over her chest "I don't know when we lost our men. It all happened so fast..."

"No one blames you, Tommy." Joel spoke up. His brother looked at him sadly.

"One of them surprised me. We fell to the ground, struggling. I thought..." he took a deep breath "I thought I wouldn't come back."

"I took out two of them before I saw what was happening." Shane continued for him, and then your name tumbled from his lips. "Her gun jammed. One of the guys hit her, but she managed somehow. Then she saw Tommy." 

Joel felt his brother wanted to tell him something, something that wasn't very nice.

"She got to me before Shane. It was a second or two." He looked at Maria "She saved my life. If it wasn't for her... That guy had no chance..."

Maria sighed and took her husband in her arms trying to hide her tears.

Shane leaned slightly towards Joel and added quietly "Listen, talk to her. She's barely spoken since then."

"What happened?" Joel asked, feeling his voice tremble.

Walsh sighed. "He got hit in the ribs and in the neck. A few times. But she... Shit, I had to get her off him."

A familiar image appeared before Joel's eyes, he knew what Shane was talking about, he had seen you like this before. That was the moment when you defended Ellie and yourself. He looked towards the clinic with concern.

"Thanks, Shane." He said. "Thanks for taking care of her."

"No problem, man."

Warm steam was coming out of the bathroom, pleasantly warming the bedroom. It was quite late. Ellie hid in her room, engrossed in the comic book you brought her. You, on the other hand, had already taken a shower and, dressed in clean clothes, were combing your still damp hair.

"You must be tired as hell." Joel put a mug of tea on your nightstand.

"Mhm..."

You didn't say much and you barely ate dinner, which worried him, but he thought that maybe once you went to bed you'd feel better. Joel took a quick shower and when he came back to the room he saw that you were already lying under the covers.

Tiredness must have won, because your breathing was already steady and calm. The bed creaked quietly as Joel lay down behind you, hugged you and snuggled into your back, kissing your shoulder. Tomorrow will be a new day. He would talk to you, and you would feel better. For sure.

You weren't in his arms. The space next to him was empty and cold. Joel rubbed his eyes and looked around the dark room. Only after a moment did he notice the faint light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He hesitantly got out of bed and went to the bathroom.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked in a hoarse voice, knocking quietly.

Nothing. Silence. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He knocked again.

"Are you there? Can I come in?"

Something hit the floor and rolled across it. Joel no longer hesitated, grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. You were sitting against the wall with your knees pulled up to your chest, your eyes puffy from tears. You had to try to get up, but you clumsily threw the cup with toothbrushes on the floor and it was the one that made the noise.

"Sweetheart..."

He quickly knelt down next to you, took your face in his hands. Your cheeks were wet from tears, single strands of hair stuck to your face.

"How long have you been here? Come back with me, honey..."

"I-I can't come back...." your voice was shaking. Joel didn't understand what you said. His heart was breaking when he looked at you like that. "I can't, I can't Joel."

"Of course you can. I'll help you, you know that. You're not alone in this."

Your eyes were glazed with tears, you took a breath through trembling lips. "I did it again... Again. When I saw this guy on Tommy, he wanted to kill him, and I..."

"And you saved him." Joel interrupted you. "You saved Tommy. You saved my brother's life."

"You didn't see it! There was so much blood everywhere..."

"But I see you! And I know you. You did what you had to."

You stared at him with pity. Joel didn't understand anything. He wasn't there with you, he wasn't you. That moment when you lost control, when you acted on instinct, when your dark side took over, and the knife you had in your hand entered the body of that man smoothly. You woke up feeling like you could feel his warm blood on your hands again. Your heart was beating like crazy.

"I'm not safe, Joel. I'm not safe for you and Ellie." your voice became automatic, as if you were saying a memorized line "What if I do the same to you? I snapped! I snapped and lost control and..."

"You were saving Tommy, for God's sake!" strong hands grabbed your shoulders and Joel gently shook you to come to your senses "When I met you, you were already protecting Ellie. I know you would never hurt her, or me. It's this world, it's brought it all out in you, but it's not the real you."

"Bullshit..."

"Believe me, I'd like to take it all away from you, carry it for you. But I can't. The only thing I can do is be with you, take care of you, love you and..." he stopped as his brain realized what words had left his mouth. He had never said that before. 

God! He couldn't remember the last time he told someone he loved them, maybe in his previous life. He had always been hopeless with feelings, he couldn't name them like some people, but that didn't mean he didn't feel them. His body was full of emotions, and you had added a few more that he could barely handle. And now you were staring at him with a mixture of fear and not understanding a word he had said. 

Joel took a deep breath. "I love you." He repeated. "I have loved you for a long time. I should have told you before, not now that you... Fuck." another precious breath. "I love you. And I know what you are. What your head says isn't true, that's not the real you. You shield and protect, baby. You care for others, you love and support. You saved Ellie, me and my brother. You protect our family."

Your brain must have analyzed his words for a long moment, because you were staring at him completely stunned. Only after a long moment of silence did you speak. "You can't love me, Joel. You're wrong..."

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed, smiling. "If I'm truly certain of anything in life, it's what I feel, sweetheart."

"But-"

"There's no 'but' here. I know perfectly well what I am, but I also know what I've become since you've been with me. And I care about you, so please, come back to bed with me."

His words must have finally reached you, because you gave in to him and got up from the floor. Joel led you back to the bed, and after a moment you were lying in his arms again. The warmth emanating from his body was pleasant, you felt safe and good. His fingers gently stroked your shoulder, and his chest rose with a steady breath. Hundreds of thoughts were racing through your head.

"Will you help me forget?"

"What?" he asked, a little surprised by your quiet question.

"Help me forget, please, Joel. I know you can..."

So he did what you asked him to do. He slowly took off your shirt, kissing every inch of exposed skin tenderly. He felt under his fingers the scar you had on your side, he kissed that place too. The panties you were wearing also landed on the floor. You clumsily reached for the edge of his shirt. 

Joel's broad shoulders and chest were something you adored, but at that moment he didn't give you time to admire him. His lips found yours, kissing you tenderly, his tongue slipped inside and you tangled your fingers in his hair. The next thoughts flew out of your head, one after another. 

The tenderness with which he touched and caressed you was extraordinary, and at the same time delicate. If you hadn't asked him to help you forget, he would probably have given himself more time, but in that case you couldn't wait. He spread your thighs with his knee and settled between them.

"I don't want it to hurt..."

"It won't. And even if it does, I don't care."

You took his cock at the base, stroked it and rubbed the head against your entrance a few times. Joel closed his eyes, sighing quietly. With one, not even strong, movement of his hips, he pushed the tip into you, and you closed your eyelids. Warm walls wrapped around him tightly as he went deeper and deeper. Until the very end. Delicate hands stroked his shoulders as he tried to get used to this feeling. You had made love so many times, but every time Joel felt delight when he entered you.

Finally, he lifted himself up on his forearms and looked at your face, the face he loved so much, the face he was afraid to lose.

"I love you so fucking much." he said quietly.

You smiled. "I love you too, more than you can imagine."

He started moving. One thrust after another, your quiet moans filled his ears, your nails dug into his shoulders and back. But Joel didn't stop, if you wanted to forget he wanted to help you with that. 

And he didn't stop until you fell apart in his arms, until you arched in the pleasure he gave you. Every shiver you made, every sigh - it all felt like a declaration of love. Love you were a symbol of.

And when you fell asleep exhausted in his arms, he stroked your soft skin for a while longer, kissed your forehead, drew from your warm body. He repeated to himself that no matter what happened he would do everything to keep you safe, because he couldn't lose another loved one. And you were his whole life.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[firewasabeast]

Hey CJ! Idk if you take prompts (I loved your most recent ficlet)

BUT any thoughts on how Buck and Tommy annoy each other (on purpose)??

ahhh thank you so much! I'm always taking prompts, it just sometimes takes me a while to get to them. here's a two-in-one fic for you!

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

Tommy looked over across the couch, where Buck was staring down at a crossword as he clicked his pen. Over and over.

“Do you need a new pen?” Tommy asked, keeping his tone calm and casual.

“Huh?” It took a second for Buck to register what he'd asked. “Oh, no. No, I'm good, thanks,” he said, glancing over at him with a smile.

Tommy returned the smile, then went back to reading his magazine.

Click click click clickclick click click.

Tommy took a long, deep breath.

Click click click click click click click click click.

“You sure?” He asked again, his voice going up an octave. “I have a whole drawer of them.”

And they're the kind with caps, he added to himself.

Buck shook his head. “Nope, this one works just fine.”

Click click click click click click. Click. Click. Click.

Click click click click clickclick-

Tommy closed the magazine and squeezed his eyes shut. “For the love of God, Evan, please stop.”

“Ha! So it does bother you!” Buck exclaimed, pointing the pen to Tommy with a triumphant look on his face.

“Does the endless pen clicking bother me? Yeah, maybe a little.”

Buck shook his head, relaxing further into the couch. “Finally.”

“Finally what?”

“I finally found something that makes Mr. Cool lose his cool.”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “I did not lose my cool, thank you very much.”

“You looked like a pressure cooker that was about to explode.”

“So you were doing all of that just to annoy me?” Tommy asked, a playful glare on his face.

“After about the third click, yes.”

“And if I didn't stop you, you were what? Gonna click the entirety of We Will Rock You?”

Buck tilted his head, looking more impressed than anything now. “Y- You knew the song?”

“Of course I knew the song. Who wouldn't know that song?”

“I just didn't realize I was so talented. I could quit my job, begin a professional career as a click artist.”

Tommy opened his magazine back up, crossing one leg over the other. “I'd stick with firefighting if I were you.”

They were just settling back into a peaceful silence when:

Click click.

“Okay.” Tommy reached across the couch and pulled the pen out of Buck's hand before getting up and heading for the trash.

“Wait! No!” Buck exclaimed. “I just had to finish the line in the song. I was done.”

Tommy raised the lid to the garbage can and dropped the pen in it. “You can get another pen out of the drawer beside you. One with a cap,” he added quickly, “not a clicker.”

“You're no fun,” Buck teased, opening the drawer and grabbing another pen. “Oh, I see some clickers in here, Babe. I could do a rendition of Come Sail Away for you!”

Tommy walked back over to Buck, standing right in front of him on the couch. “I love you, Evan, but if you so much as touch another click pen I will leave.”

Buck snorted out a laugh, staring up at his boyfriend. “This is your house, Tommy!”

“I'll sign it over to you.”

Buck reached up and tugged on Tommy's shirt until he was hovering over him, one hand on the armrest and the other on the back of the couch. “Has anyone ever told you you're dramatic?” Buck asked, pulling Tommy in for a kiss.

“My drama teacher, third grade,” he replied with a nod. “Mrs. Collier.”

Buck gave Tommy one more kiss before letting him go. “I'll have to send her a note, tell her she was right.”

“Well, she was about seventy when I was in her class,” Tommy informed him, sitting back down in his seat, “so you'll have to search her address on Find a Grave.”

He resumed his magazine reading as Buck got back into his crossword...

Until about two minutes later, when Buck began drumming the new pen on his thigh. This time, he was seemingly completely unaware of what he was doing.

Tommy headed to bed early that night.

**********

The first time it happened, Buck was surprised, but he didn't say anything about it.

The second time, he laughed a bit, and when Tommy asked what was so funny he just shrugged and said he'd never seen anyone do that before.

The third time, he thought he might die.

“Did you, um, did you use a fork to scoop out the butter?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as humanly possible.

Tommy breezed by, grabbing a drink out of the fridge on his way to the garage for a work out. “Yeah. Had toast this morning.” He gave Buck a pat on the ass before heading out the door.

Buck immediately pulled a knife out of a drawer and smoothed out the butter.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. Realistically, Buck knew that.

But there was something so jarring about opening a container of butter only to see that it was littered with stab wounds.

It felt wrong.

It felt like a crime.

The fourth time it happened, it was the day after he and Tommy had gotten into an argument. Nothing too serious, and they had made up by the time they went to bed.

But Tommy had made himself dinner that night and he'd decided on scrambled eggs.

Which meant he'd first put butter in the pan so the eggs wouldn't stick.

Buck didn't want to another fight right now, so he kept quiet and fixed the butter once again, then went about his day.

The fifth time it happened, Buck was ready to throw every fork in the house away. He could no longer remain silent on such a serious issue. It needed to be discussed, and it needed to be discussed now.

There was no better time, as Tommy was opening their mail at the dining room table while Buck started on dinner.

“Uh, Tommy?”

“Yeah, Babe?”

“We, um, I- I need to talk to you.”

Tommy looked up from the mail and over to where Buck stood in the kitchen. “Uh oh,” he said when he saw the look on Buck face. “You sound serious.”

“Yeah, I- it. It's the butter, Tommy. I- Most people use a knife when they're getting butter, but you're using a fork, and it makes the butter look all stabby and I've just been fixing it myself every time I see it, but I really don't understand why you can't use a knife, or even a spoon, ya know?” He was rambling, but once he started he couldn't seem to stop. “It looks so much better if you use a knife because then it keeps that smooth, buttery texture instead of looking like its been to war and-” he stopped when he noticed that Tommy was smiling at him. “What?” he asked.

“I knew you'd break eventually.”

“Wh- What do you mean?”

Tommy picked up a pen from the table, holding his arm out straight in front of him.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

When it hit him, Buck gasped, his eyes widening. “That was months ago!” he exclaimed. “We weren't even living together then!”

“And yet I've never forgotten,” Tommy replied, feeling a sense of vindication.

“You're diabolical.” He held the tub of butter out toward Tommy. “This could be considered a form of torture, you know?”

Tommy stood and walked over to Buck. “What would they call it? Butter-forking?” he asked, taking the tub from Buck and getting a knife from the drawer. He began smoothing the butter out himself, until it looked perfect on top. “Better?” he asked, showing Buck his work.

Buck turned his head to the side dramatically, staring out the kitchen window. “I don't know if we'll get past this.”

Tommy put the butter down, moving closer to Buck and placing his hands on his waist. “Could we try?” he asked. “I'd hate to tell the caterers we had to cancel the wedding on a count of me forking butter. Especially since it sounds shockingly close to doing something else with butter.”

Buck shuddered when he realized what Tommy meant. He looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Will you never destroy the sanctity of our butter with your fork ever again?”

“I will try my best,” Tommy promised. “As long as you continue to stay away from clickable pens.”

Buck sighed. “There goes the last chances of my career as a musical clicker,” he said with a pout, wrapping his arms around Tommy's shoulders.

“And there goes my career as a professional butter stabber,” Tommy replied, his hands tightening on Buck's waist as he got rid of his pout with a kiss.

[citrusandrottefruit]

Modern!Steddie (This is based on something I read a while back on Tumblr about Eddie becoming famous, Steve getting doxxed, and years later singing Hozier's Francesca to Eddie. I'll look for the fic, and if I find it, I'll put the link here.) EDIT: This is the fic here, guys. I recommend reading it. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/48091627/chapters/121266283)

Steve has always been one of the popular kids, but not the kind of childish villains you see in movies. No, he was popular because he was handsome, had rich parents, was charismatic, and was good at sports. He didn't bully other kids, but he wasn't interested in them either.

He never felt the need to seek out new connections at school, because he'd had Tommy and Carol for years, and anyone new who wanted to talk to him would come to him. He didn't have to work hard to make new friends.

His time was spent on sports and the friends he already had. The occasional girlfriend, too, because he'd always been a romantic at heart and a lonely kid. Being best friends with a couple would also make him feel like a third wheel a lot, so having a girlfriend and double dates seemed cool.

Then he got into a fight with Tommy and Carol after that graffiti episode in the movies and they drifted apart. Tommy wasn't mean about it, but he was resentful and hostile, because they were best friends and it always sucks to lose a friend to a boyfriend/girlfriend who you think cheated on them.

After a year, when he and Nancy broke up, he, Tommy and Carol didn't get back together, but they weren't hostile, you could tell they felt bad for him. Steve wanted to be friends with them again, he just didn't feel right crawling back with his tail between his legs and he also felt guilty that they never reconnected before. He didn't want it to seem like he only got back together because he was single.

He's still popular, but now his best friends aren't around anymore and he got cheated on by his girlfriend, but he feels like he deserved it (let's just say the story they made up about Barbara dying was real and the trauma grew into a monster and consumed their entire relationship). So he feels alone.

He has the kids. But Dustin thinks he's awesome and he doesn't want to be anything less, Lucas also sees him as a hero, willing to take a beating for him, Max looks up to him as a big brother. Will is Jonathan's brother and has traumas, so Steve would never dump his problems on the kid. Mike is Nancy's brother.

All of his real friends are kids.

So, Eddie. Steve isn't lonely around school, he still interacts with other students, he's friendly with the popular crowd, a lot of people like him. He just has these moments where he seems sad and then suddenly he seems super chill again.

Anyone who looks closely can tell he's got a problem and pretends not to, but it's not obvious. Eddie doesn't think much of it at first. He actually finds it amusing, because he has a lot of shallow and superficial ideas about popular kids who conform to the norm and who are well-off.

Eddie comes over when he sees Steve reading a DnD rulebook. He mocks it a bit, but explains a few things and Steve, who has always been a social butterfly and never cared much about sitting at the same table as some group in the cafeteria, sits down with Hellfire.

Not with the intention of being their friend, just because he wanted to ask them questions, take notes and move on with his life. A brief connection, a friendly interaction. No different from his relationship with most people who are part of his social circle.

But Eddie keeps pulling him closer, invites him to join the Hellfire Club. Steve declines, because he likes the stories and wanted to learn about DnD because of the kids, but he feels insecure about being a player, about roleplaying, he's afraid of making the wrong decisions and ruining something that seems to be so important to their friends (both the kids and Eddie).

Eventually, they fall in love.

Steve graduates without much distinction and Eddie barely makes it, but they are free from high school. While Eddie continues to play concerts at the Hideout with the CC boys, Steve works at Scoops Ahoy and makes friends with Robin.

So, when Eddie decides to leave, Steve asks them to wait a little, to save up more money, to get better organized. If they stayed for a whole year, Robin could even leave with them. When Eddie doesn't agree, he says they can continue their relationship long-distance. After all, it's 2010 and there's technology for that.

Eddie leaves anyway, believing that Steve will regret it and look for him, understand that leaving is the right choice and blah blah blah. Steve can't leave yet, because if he moves out, if he doesn't follow the path his parents have laid out, he'll give up any illusion of family he might have had. His car is in his father's name, he doesn't have much savings, he's still not open about being bisexual and he's terrified of leaving his entire life behind. It's hard in Hawkins, but facing the whole world, the uncertainty, not having a home to go back to… It scares him. Eddie doesn't understand, because if nothing else worked out for him, he could go back to Wayne and be welcomed with open arms.

One of Eddie's first hit songs is about a preppy, popular, charismatic kid who's the captain of the swim team and lives in Loch Nora who starts dating him in his senior year and gets stuck in a shitty job at the mall. It's easy to figure out who Steve is. People at school find out quickly.

I like to think Carol is the one who alerts him, goes to his job to tell him the rumors. Tommy goes with her. Although Carol is kinder and more open and Tommy keeps his distance, as if he might be infected, he also tells Steve to be careful, for old times' sake.

Either way, he becomes a target. The students tell their parents that they believe the hit song is about Steve. This story even gets around the church that his parents donate to and "attend" when they're around. His parents' friends find out. His business partners find out. His parents, too.

His parents suddenly move back home. It was a huge fight, with his mother accusing him of being possessed, suggesting a treatment to "cure" him. Mr. Harrington said it was due to a lack of beatings. Either way, it ended with him bleeding alone in the street.

A few days later, he and Robin managed to return to "steal" some of his belongings back, including documents. Other than that, he lost everything.

Mr. Wheeler didn't even want him to get close to Mike anymore.

For a while, he spends his days between the Hendersons' couch and Robin's bedroom floor, feeling like shit and listening to the music Eddie wrote over and over again.

After that, he sells his cell phone, his laptop, whatever he managed to keep. Robin also sells some of her things and the kids help with this small fundraising, selling cakes and sweets. Even Tommy and Carol seek them out, providing almost 50% of the money. That way, Steve is able to leave with a few months' rent saved.

Wayne also helped, because he knew that Eddie's music was responsible for this. Steve told him never to talk about everything that happened with Eddie, so Wayne kept it a secret.

I think Tommy, Carol and Steve could get back to being friends. Not the same as before, but they have lunch together every few months and they were the ones who helped Steve get a job in a new city.

A few months later, Corroded Coffin is well established, about to release its first album. Robin goes to college and Steve and she move in together.

That's when other people start to find out who Steve is too. It starts with a post on Reddit, people speculating about him, which is the central theme of several songs, although none are as explicit about his identity as the first. His parents receive some hate mail, they make a point of sending it to the Buckleys and Steve finds out. What hurts the most is knowing that his parents never gave him any of his belongings, but they found a way to let him know that people he didn't even know hated him.

He gets some hate messages too, because, although he deleted his old accounts, the new ones are easy to find through the profiles of people who knew him before all this. So, they're probably students from school, people know what Robin's social networks are, finding him.

There isn't much hate coming his way because he's careful to keep to the shadows, and thankfully the speculation about Steve Harrington being responsible for breaking Eddie Munson's heart doesn't go that far, after all, there's nothing to keep fueling those theories.

One of the things that connected Eddie to Steve was music. I like to think of Steve as a musician, like Joe Keery is. If Eddie can pour out his anger through music, he can also pour his heart into it. He writes Unknown/Nth and posts it to an anonymous YouTube account. He sings with an acoustic guitar, without showing his face.

For a while, this feels like closure.

Steve still gets hate mail sometimes, even though he deletes the old accounts and creates new ones. Everyone in Hawkins seems to know about him and Eddie. The kids, who hated Eddie for a while, have reluctantly started to admire him again. Steve reassured them about this, but they all remained bitter about everything that happened.

Steve, for his part, has vacillated between hating Eddie and hating himself. Most of the time, he still feels like he maybe loves Eddie a little bit, as if he’s stuck on that last day they saw each other. Sometimes he blames himself for making the wrong decision. Other times he thinks that if he hadn't stayed in Hawkins, Eddie might never have made it big.

His feelings for Eddie are complicated.

So, about 5 years after the breakup, there's a documentary about the beginning of Corroded Coffin. Something not produced by them. Maybe by a fan? Who goes to Hawkins, talks to people, tells them about Steve, exposes Steve and it goes viral on social media.

His life goes to shit very quickly. Eddie doesn't even notice at first, because CC is on a world tour and they never have free time. Meanwhile, Steve becomes well-known on social media and gets some hate mail.

Things change a bit when someone, seeing old photos of Steve, posts on Reddit that they have a crazy theory: there's a song they've been listening to for years, that's a lost gem in the depths of YouTube and they swear that's Steve Harrington, because the moles match and you can see a Hawkins High jacket in the background. It's a pretty crazy theory, so it doesn't get much attention, but the song gains momentum.

Eddie finds out because, once he learned everything that happened, he started researching everything about Steve, trying to measure how much he ruined his life.

Assuming people find out that the song is really about Eddie, I think he could become the target of hate, almost as much as Steve did, because Unknown/Nth is a powerful song.

That's what I've thought, for now. They get back together in the end because Eddie's actions had terrible consequences, but he never meant to hurt Steve like that and the biggest culprits for everything that happened are his parents. The hate from the fans wasn't that intense until the documentary, so it was hard to notice.

Anyway, they have a long way to go. A talk to clear up their last fight, a lengthy apology from Eddie, reconnecting with the kids, getting back to being friends.

It would be terribly sad and difficult. It definitely wouldn't be a fairy tale, but they could learn to trust each other. Eddie could earn Steve's trust, affection, and friendship, and one day they could be a couple again.

[gracieheartspedro]

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

glossary:

🔥 - smut 🥀 - angst 🌹 - fluff

I Can See You ~ a story where reader is pining hard for her dad's employee/friend and she does everything in her power to get his attention. (ON HOLD INDEFINITELY)

Part 1 🔥 Part 2🔥 Part 3🔥

Cool About It ~ inspired by boygenius' song "cool about it", this is a three part series that uses the lyrics as a guidance of joel and reader's relationship. (COMPLETED)

Part 1 🔥 🥀 Part 2 🔥🥀 Part 3 🔥🥀

How Long ~ your boyfriend, tommy miller, is a big ole cheater. his big brother joel helps you get over him. but you didn't know using joel as revenge would turn into a mutual pining for one another. it's complicated. (ON HOLD)

Part 1🔥🥀 🌹 Part 2🔥🥀 🌹 Part 3 🥀 🌹 Part 4🔥🥀 🌹

Who We Are 🔥🥀 🌹 - joel miller is your dad's long-time patrol partner. so when your dad falls ill, he decides to help you out by traveling to salt lake city to get some much-needed medicine. with all the time spent together, can you seriously resist falling for your dad's best friend?

No One Fucks With My Baby 🔥🥀 - set a couple months after you and joel establish your relationship (post Who We Are), he defends you while you're working. you decide to treat him with some fun at the bar.

Your Needs, My Needs (ON HOLD) - you arrive in the small town of taylor, texas. your new farmhouse has an interesting neighbor across the street. a cowboy named joel miller.

Prelude 🥀 Strawberry Wine: Part I 🥀

Guilty As Sin 🔥🥀 - you hate that you love him. what happens when you run away to get your mind off it? joel comes after you, of course.

For Cryin' Out Loud 🔥🥀 🌹 -living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

Me and The Devil 🔥🥀 - joel seeks out revenge on the man who stole from him. he finds you in the process.

Nobody Likes A Secret 🔥🥀 -a rich wealthy playboy who becomes enthralled by his neighbor's daughter. it never ends well when he can not fathom having happiness for himself.

Sick Day 🔥- sloppy morning head with joel. that's it.

I Will Leave Your Words 🥀 - a lover's perspective on what it was like to lose joel by the hands of a mystery girl.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[toxicanonymity]

twin peaks.

4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. There are a few characters from The Bikeriders. BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol)  a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog

dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump

“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles. 

Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.” 

“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”

The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.

“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.

“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters. 

“Really?” Tommy asks. 

“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.” 

“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen. 

-

A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach. 

“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face. 

“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically. 

“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”

“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”

“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”

You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.

“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles. 

“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains. 

“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows. 

Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.

“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment. 

“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen. 

“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”

“We’ll see.”

-

The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room. 

Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”

“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.

Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”

“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”

“My new friend?” 

“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.

“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?” 

“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.” 

“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself. 

“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair. 

—---you—--

Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink. 

When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks.  “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”

“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully. 

“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink. 

One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo.  You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back. 

Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.” 

Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond. 

“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”

“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him. 

“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.

“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal. 

Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself. 

“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”

-. . .-

Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you. 

Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile. 

“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours. 

You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room. 

“You okay?” Joel searches your face. 

You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.  

“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”

Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice. 

“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.

“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads.  There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel

“NO,” Joel barks. 

-

Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer.  You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”

You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief.  Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.” 

You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.” 

“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats. 

You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle.  That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close. 

“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves. 

You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less? 

-

Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door. 

“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth. 

You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean. 

He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.

Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.

“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.

 “Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?” 

You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts.  “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper

“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time. 

“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”

Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door. 

“Wait,” you whisper.”

“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you. 

You shake your head no. 

“Good,” he whispers. 

Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede. 

“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?” 

“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him. 

Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls. 

“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.” 

---a few weeks later—

"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.

"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.

"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."

"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.

"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts. 

"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"

He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."

You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.  

"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way." 

"Oh yeah?"

Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up. 

"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."

"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs. 

You look away shyly.

"What's got you all flustered?" 

"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.' 

Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."

"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls. 

"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."

You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.” 

Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?” 

Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth. 

“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”

“Joel!" You gently smack his chest. 

“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.” 

"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own. 

----

When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing. 

“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back. 

“You were serious?” you ask. 

“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.” 

Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.” 

Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth. 

Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.” 

—

You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria. 

“Where ya want us?” Joel asks. 

“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies. 

Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”

“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck. 

-

In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”

You nod and smile. 

“Ready to be even more comfortable?” 

Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal. 

With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.” 

You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans. 

“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear. 

“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel. 

You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”

You nod, “Yeah.” 

“He’s ready too.”

Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel. 

“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam.  You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so.  His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.

“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes. 

“Take’ him so well,” Tommy  whispers. 

Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs  you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches. 

You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”

“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”

You whimper and nod. 

“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers. 

“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees. 

Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and  Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan. 

“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down. 

Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs. 

“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.

You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front. 

===

Thank you for reading!

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

[onskepa]

Left Behind: Moments

Here is another chapter of the left behind series! Hope you all enjoy!

Left behind series

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

Jake’s pov 

“So ummm…..I was told to vlog my day to day stuff. Guess to keep record of things I do and not lose my shit on this planet” Jake tells himself on camera. It has been a few hours since he woke up from his cryo sleep. His body ached, felt like a statue from not moving for 5 years. 

“This is year is 2154….those fuckers lied. It's been 7 years since I left Earth for this jungle gym crap. 7 years felt like nothing. My baby girl, probably in her preteen years right now. I wonder how she is doing. I wouldn't blame her if she hates me, no scratch that. She is incapable of hate. Maybe mad, yeah. But not hate. I want this mission to be done and over with.” 

Jake’s pov

“First day in my avatar…gotta say, it felt fucking amazing. I was able to breathe the native air! Best part, I can run! WOOHOOO! YES! Oh man, never in my life have I felt this amazing. Though I did get carried away. When I woke up in my new body, the excitement got to me. I ran almost all over the fields, the basketball court, the botanical gardens, it felt great. Almost got in trouble but grace was there to save my ass” 

“Still have to adjust to this body, grace is giving me a week to get used to it. I am not the only one though, there is a weird guy named Normal Spellman. Nerdy but otherwise cool. He is the one who studies alongside with tommy. Good pals I can only imagine. He just got his avatar too”

“I bet if my baby girl was here, she would be surprised. With everything really. Maybe a bit scared. Would enjoy it no doubt. Learn how this planet works. I cant help it. I wonder what she is doing. Is she making friends? Doing good in school? So many things. But I know the sooner I get this mission done, the sooner I get home to her” 

“Gotta rest now, got a big day tomorrow, this is Jake Sully, singing out” 

Jake’s pov 

“Colonel Quaritch, tough and kinda scary guy but he keeps people safe here. As safe as it can get on this planet. Met him in the brief meeting as a welcome home type of talk. But, weirdly enough, I admire him. He seems to know what he is doing and how to do it. Said he has a special mission for me, didn't say what yet but to expect a visit from him soon” 

“I can worry about that later. Tomorrow starts a new mission. Get samples from more remote areas of the forest. Norm was given a special task. Try to make a peaceful contact with the aliens here. Na’vi is what they are called. Grace gave me a brief on them. Some important figures too. Guess they have a system of rulers here. Like the old native tribes back on Earth. My missions is to guard and make sure grace and norm get what they need” 

“I will be honest, does not seem too bad. Was given the ok to shoot any possible threats. Practice with the guns, proud to say I have not lost my aim. It is getting late but I still have to do this. Does keep my mind busy, recalling the day’s events. I am starting to get into a routine” 

“After shutting off the camera, I look at the picture of me and my daughter. I would stare at it for a while until my eyes drop. See this? It was the day I won a little toy for her at an arcade. She was so happy. Not often was I able to give her something new. Hopefully the paychecks are getting funded for her needs. I bet she is getting nice, brand new things” 

“So many birthdays I missed. Im so sorry baby girl, but I promise, the second I go back, I will give you the biggest hug ever. Buy you all the gifts you could ever want, hell, if the pay is that good, get a better place. Maybe close to your favorite park that you like to play in. Better yet, go to the zoo like you always wanted. I know you will be much older but I dont care. You are my baby girl for life. Nothing is going to change that” 

“Guess now I better log off. Big day tomorrow, this is Jake Sully, signing off”

Jake’s pov 

“Things didn't go right during the mission and I was split up from grace and norm. A giant weird animal, thana-something called by grace, deadly, found us. Had his eyes on me, grace told me to run so I went the opposite direction of where those to were, to not get them in the crossfire. Seriously, that animal was huge, but I guess by some miracle, a bigger animal came into view. Like in those old nature documentaries, the two giants began to fight. Either way, I made a run for cause I know it was not going to end pretty” 

“I got lost along the way, had no idea where I was or how far I was from the crew. Took me sweet time though. Admiring the pretty sights that Pandora had to offer. Felt like a kid again. Everything was bright, colorful, alive. I can see why the RDA wants to use the resources here. Crazy to think that Earth was one like this. Green, healthy, breathing” 

“Of course somewhere along the way I lost myself even more, lost my gun. Had to make a spear then turn it into  a torch because night came. Now night time felt like a whole different world. Everything glowed, pretty almost neon colors illuminated the plats. Some small creatures also glowed. Sad that I couldn't appreciate it enough. Got attacked” 

“Freaking hyena looking animals, running in a pack. The fire helped create a distance as I ran but they were too many, though I was done for. My ass got saved by an unlikely person” 

Jake’s pov 

“Neytiri, princess of the Omatikaya clan. Scary lady but she saved me. Called me a baby, and told me that I have a strong heart. Stuff happened and next thing you know, I am in their home base. Word passed and neytiri was tasked to train me. Teach me their ways. I am where the RDA needs me to be. It is now only a matter of time. Give the Colonel what he wants, give grace what she wants. It is a win-win situation” 

“Still holding out on that little meeting Quaritch wants to have with me. Maybe it won't be that far, since now I am within the premise of the indigenous, I guess I need to collect more info” 

“A lot happened so to say. I gotta rest soon. If allowed, I can bring something from here, take it with me when I get back home. Pictures seem the best answer. Or something na’vi related. My little girl knows so little of what is being told about pandora. Or knew I should say. How old is she now….? Probably a preteen. Guess I dodged a bullet. I know pre-teen years are hell. No, I shouldn't say that” 

“Soon baby girl. The wait will be worth it. Like I promised. Training day begins tomorrow, so, with that, this is jake sully, signing out” 

Jake’s pov 

“I am part of the people. I am the son of the people and child of Eywa. Passing my iknimaya, taming my ikran, everything. I am na’vi. It feels unreal, hard to accept. Tsu’tey and I are brothers, wasn't that long ago he wanted to kill me, calling me ugly, but now we are at the same level” 

“They celebrated my rebirth. It was fantastic, neytiri made me dance even though I was terrible at it. The whole thing felt magical. Truly, I felt like I really belonged somewhere, being accepted. It felt nice. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, it did get better” 

“Surprise surprise, I am now mated to neytiri. She took me to the tree of voices, telling me of how sacred and precious it is, being able to connect to their ancestors. It was beautiful. Neytiri was beautiful, still is. Taking my breath away, and my availability” 

“I wouldn't change it for anything, she is someone I have come to love with all my heart. As cheesy as it sounds, it's true. Neytiri changed me, made me better, and I have no regrets”

Jake’s pov 

“They are starting to pressure us, more like me. The RDA really want the omatikaya gone, away from their home tree. Just because it houses the materials they want. It is not easy, none of it is easy. To tell them to leave, when it's been their home for thousands of years. According to Grace, I don't doubt her. This is their home, it is us who are the aliens” 

“They are not going to leave, nothing is going to change their minds. Worst yet, I know quaritch will do drastic things to get what he wants. I was an idiot to follow him, to believe him. What he will do, knowing his tactics, he will shed blood and bullets. I need to warn neytiri, mo’at, tsu’tey. Can't believe this is coming out of my mouth, but I pray to Eywa, that she guides me. What can I do to make sure things don't go downhill” 

“I came to make good money, to finish the mission given to me and be done with. Now, I am in a moral dilemma. I am stuck” 

Jake’s pov

“I am sorry. No amount of sorry’s that I say will ever be enough for anyone. Not to neytiri, not to eytukan, not to mo’at, tsu’tey grace, norm, anyone. It will never be enough. I brought this to them, it is only right that I help. War is coming, and soon. So many na’vi died when they destroyed their home tree. Many wounded, kids, infants, innocent lives” 

“Grace and I did our best to warn them, tell them to leave. Tsu’tey was adamant to fight, their weapons useless against the valkyries. In an instant, all was gone. I wanted to apologize to neytiri, she was furious, telling me I am not one of those people. She is right. Before anything more could be done, those damn bastards forced me to pull out. Pushed me in a tight closure” 

“Quaritch, a beast he is, heartless. Keeping me locked up yet outside of my cage he dangles the picture of my little girl. Telling me it's not too late to take his side if I ever want to go back to earth and see her again. Going on about how she will react to all of this. Her father rebelling against humanity. As much as I hate to admit…”

“He is right….I dont know if I will see her again. I hate to say….sacrifices have got to be made. I'm sorry, but I have to atone my sins. Like I said, no amount of sorry’s will be enough. Not even for my little girl, I am sorry baby girl, but daddy is not coming home”

Jake’s pov 

“We won. Quaritch is dead, and unfortunately, so is Grace and tsu’tey. Both sides lost many lives. Yet that is war, but we won. Humans are no more, many left, only few remained. Sworn their loyalty to the na’vi. Only they can stay. We made many sacrifices, I made many.  Many I dont regret, or will look back to. This is the beginning of a new chapter for me. There is nothing left to hold me back, not my past, not my memories.  I am at peace with what I did” 

“Neytiri is with a child, I am excited, I am going to be a father. I cant wait when they arrive, I will be there, welcoming my son or daughter into a new world of peace. First born, neytiri likes to say it over and over.  She is not wrong, our first child together in a new era of peace” 

“However there is still one thing left to do. A grand celebration is going to be held” 

“This I look forward to, many are coming together for it. It is my birthday after all, can't miss my own party. So, one last time. This is Jake Sully, the human, signing out. For good” 

Third pov

A young girl looks at the last vlog of her father, Jake Sully, eyes wide as she takes in what she just saw. This was a side she never knew, nor did she think it would be hidden.  

She clenches her hands into a fist tightly, gritting her teeth, her body shaking in fury. Hot tears streaming down her face, not knowing whether to cry in sadness or scream in anger. So many emotions mixed, creating a tornado in her mind. 

Hearing a door open behind her, she turns to glare at the man. 

“Why….” was all she could say before breaking down.

Aaaaaaaaaaand that is it for this chapter of the ongoing series! This one I chose to have only jake be the main point, his vlogs. See how his mind changes, perspective and what lead to the final choice. Trust me, this will come back for future chapters. So until next time! See ya!

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[salty-autistic-writer]

Written for @bucktommyangstweek, Day 4: Accidents on the job (tw: vomiting)

Buck is used to getting hurt on the job. He’s used to bruises, cuts, and strains.

Injuries are a known risk that comes with being a firefighter. Due to the adrenaline rush Buck often doesn’t even notice he’s hurt until he peels his uniform off later and sees himself in the mirror.

On his pale skin, bruises quickly turn violet, green, and yellow. A spectrum.

Tommy kisses each colorful spot with a loving gentleness that makes Buck feel fuzzy inside. 

He returns the favor. Tommy doesn’t bruise as easily, but he has more scars than Buck. He runs a finger over them, mapping out their shapes, transfixed by the way life leaves visible traces on bodies.

Each wound tells a story.

Each wound is proof that they are alive. At the same time, they are evidence of the fragility of the human body. It doesn’t take much to kill someone. Buck knows that too well. He has felt his own transcience. Now, what he fears the most, is to see his significant other fighting for his life.

Being with a first responder isn’t only about handling shifts that often don't match. It’s also about whispering "be safe" in the mornings like a prayer. It’s waiting for bad news when the other arrives home too late. It's agonizing waiting.

It’s this moment when you pick up the phone and you just know.

“Yes.” Dry throat.

“Hello Sir, am I talking to Evan Buckley?” Professional voice. Calm. Giving nothing away.

Buck closes his eyes. A cold fist of dread curls around his heart. Presses. “Yeah. That’s me.”

Thoughts cut through his mind, bright and razor-sharp like flashes of lightning.

I’m Evan Buckley. I’m Thomas Kinard’s emergency contact. But he doesn’t want to be called that. He’s Tommy. Just Tommy. He’s the love of my life. Please. Please save him. I can’t lose him. 

Please.

His fingers tighten around the phone. “How … How bad is it?”

“It was a dead branch,” Lucy says quietly, soot on her face and in her hair. One of her arms is bandaged. “It was huge and it came out of nowhere. No warning. It just … Fell. Tommy pushed me. The branch still hit me. But … Not as hard.”

She swallows.

Not as hard as Tommy. That’s what she didn’t want to say, Buck thinks.

It’s not fair.

They were done. The fire was out.

Everything was fine.

So they took off their helmets to cool off. To pour some water over their sweaty faces.

Everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

All it took was a split second. And a branch.

It’s not fair.

But accidents never are.

Lucy puts her uninjured hand on Buck’s shoulder. “He’ll be okay,” she says. “You know what he always says about his thick head.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, trying to smile at her. But he’s numb. Still too shocked by the turn of events to process any of it. He just wants to see Tommy. Wants to see that he’s breathing. That he’s battered but alive.

* So this is what it’s like, Buck thinks. This is what it feels like when the person you love more than anything in the world lies unconscious in a hospital bed. Wow. It hurts.

Heavy concussion.

That’s what the doctor said. She also said there are no signs of brain damage. Tommy just needs a lot of rest. He’s going to be okay.

Buck felt a rush of relief after her words, but he still can’t quite believe it. Tommy looks so fragile in the hospital bed, with his head wrapped in bandages, his eyes closed and his face smooth as he sleeps.

“Sleep as long as you need to,” Buck says into the silent room, sitting on the chair beside the bed. “I will be here when you wake up, okay?” He reaches out and takes Tommy’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You gave me - all of us - a good scare. But you will be fine. And I will you buy so much cake after you wake up,” Buck promises. “And ice cream.”

One of Tommy’s fingers twitches.

* “Your eyes are so swollen, man,” Chimney says. “Spooky.”

Tommy blinks, his eyes droopy and red. He tries to focus on them but doesn’t quite manage. He raises a hand and starts to fidget with the bandages around his head.

“Marshmellow,” he whispers.

“What?” Buck asks, stunned.

“Mellow. Head. Feels like Marsh.”

“Oh. Yeah. Uh, you’re pretty concussed,” Buck says, scratching the back of his head. Beside him, Chimney is quivering. Almost like he’s trying hard not to laugh. “A branch fell on you.”

“Hm.” Tommy frowns. “Hmmm.”

“I think he’s gonna throw up,” Chimney says calmly, grabbing an emesis bowl and pushing it into Buck’s hands.

“What? I -” Buck starts, only to stare, stunned, as Tommy turns on his side fast with a gagging noise. He starts vomiting just as Buck manages to hold the bowl to his mouth. Tommy’s body convulses and trembles. It sounds and looks painful. Buck winces in sympathy. 

“I’m going to call a nurse,” Chimney says, leaving the room.

Buck pats Tommy’s back. “You will be okay,” he says quietly. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Tommy only groans weakly. And vomits again.

* “Are you sure you want to go home?” Buck asks, concerned. “Maybe one more night wouldn't hurt."

“No,” Tommy says, swaying on the spot. He blinks rapidly, trying to focus on Buck. “Please. No more.”

Buck sighs. He gets it. He really does. Hospitals are no fun.

“Okay. But you’re not going to walk out of here alone. Come on, let me help you.”

He reaches for Tommy’s arm. Tommy leans against him immediately, groaning. “Sick,” he mutters, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“I know,” Buck says. “I can ask for a wheelchair.”

“No,” Tommy says, brows furrowing. No!”

Stubborn. Buck sighs. Well. It’s not like Buck is much different.

They eventually make their way out of the room and the building, though they are so slow, that they raise a few concerned doubtful eyebrows from nurses and doctors. 

Tommy walks like Jack Sparrow. Once he has that thought, it’s stuck in Buck’s head and he has to constantly fight the laughter that wants to bubble out of him while he steadies Tommy and they sway-walk to the car.

* “Here,” Buck says happily, putting a plate with fruit, biscuits, and chocolate on the couch table. He adds a mug of steaming tea and Tommy’s medication. “That should be anything you - oh. Oh, wait!”

He puts another pillow behind Tommy’s back and also underneath his legs, then covers him with a blanket. “Good?”

Tommy looks up at him and Buck startles because there are tears in Tommy’s eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain? I can get you an icepack?!”

“No,” Tommy breathes. “I’m fine. It’s just … You taking care of me like this. It makes me emotional.”

Buck smiles, his chest glowing. “Oh. Of course! I love taking care of you. But you still don’t need to let any more branches fall on your head. Please.”

“No,” Tommy chuckles, reaching up to rub at the bump on his head with a grimace. “I really don’t need a repetition of that.”

“You and me both,” Buck says, sitting beside Tommy and reaching for a piece of chocolate. “Now, open up.”

“You’re going to feed me?” Tommy’s lips twitch. “I’m going to feed you.”

“You know what, maybe I should get injured more often after all.”

“Tommy.”

“Just kidding. Please don’t take the chocolate away.”

This injury leaves traces in their shared memories too. Buck knows something like this might happen again. And they won't see it coming. But at least, they are together right now. Still standing and still taking care of each other. And he will continue to do that as long as life allows it.

(AO3 Link)

[leashybebes]

#33 for the kiss meme cause I support procrastination 👏 (dealers choice on pairing)

thank you! #33 was forceful, and i went for saltommy. hope that's okay! disclaimer: it's been a minute since i've watched any of the begins episodes so let's just pretend this makes sense with the timeline we saw on the show (if it's good enough for tim etc., etc.)

Tommy gets through the rest of his shift with a ringing in his ears and a feeling like he's clinging on by his fingertips. He can feel Hen and Chimney looking at him carefully between calls, and even Nash looks like he's going to say something a couple of times. Tommy bites his tongue and does his job and at the end of the shift, he does a round of the firehouse and picks up all the stuff Sal left behind in his urgent need to walk away.

Hen finds him in the locker room, half zoned out, looking down at Sal's Yankees sweatshirt in his hands. He found it in the gym. It's the one with the sleeves cut off, the one Sal would pair with obnoxious board shorts at pick-up games, the one it'd taken Tommy years to build up an immunity to. And for what? For what? Because Tommy knows how this goes. People leave, everyone makes the appropriate noises about staying in touch, and then…and then…

"You okay, Tommy?"

"Yeah," he says, on reflex. "No. I don't know."

"Yeah," Hen agrees. "That was rough."

"He's such an idiot," Tommy says, tightening his fists in the worn material of the hoodie. 

Hen touches his shoulder. "Maybe you should cool off a little before you go in all guns blazing, huh?"

"Yeah," Tommy says, his jaw so tight he feels like it might shatter. "Probably."

The drive to Sal's place doesn't cool him off at all. If anything it makes him worse. He spends most of the forty five minutes sitting in traffic with his hands at ten and two, mentally rehearsing what he's going to say. You selfish prick. What the hell were you thinking? It's not too late, let's go to Nash together. You're the only thing that got me through the last six years, what am I supposed to do now? I love you. I don't know how to survive losing you. You fucking asshole.

And then he's there, his car's engine ticking into silence, his hands cramping as he uncurls his fingers from the steering wheel one at a time. He still has no idea what to say, but he grabs the duffel bag of Sal's things from the passenger seat and marches to the door. He listens to the sound of his pulse slamming inside his chest for the thirty seconds it takes Sal to open the door. He has the nerve, the sheer fucking gall, to smile at Tommy.

"Oh, hey man. Come on in."

What the fuck.

Tommy doesn't give Sal time to step aside, shoulders past him instead, shoves the bag of his crap into his arms hard enough to make him stumble.

"What the hell, Sal?"

"What - wait, are you mad at me?"

"Yes!" Tommy explodes, flinging his hands into the air. "Obviously!"

"Well why the fuck are you mad at me?" Sal demands, dropping the bag at his feet and folding his arms across his chest. "Be mad at the fucking hick."

"You left," Tommy bursts out.

"He fucking - "

"All you had to do was say sorry - "

"For doing my job? Tommy!"

"- and you could have stayed with me."

That shuts them both up more effectively than Tommy would have expected and he stands for a moment, his chest heaving, his hands shaking at his sides. Sal looks at him, tilts his head, frowns in the way that has always meant he's forensically taking someone apart, seeing through any defences to their soft underbelly. Tommy has always dreaded having that look turned on him, and this is no different.

And then Sal takes two steps, gets a hand on his collar, yanks him in, kisses him so hard it hurts. In truth it's hurt a little bit every time Tommy's kissed a guy, pressing on the bruise made of shame and fear and guilt that lives in the heart of him. This is different. This hurts because Sal clashes their teeth together, because he bites at Tommy's lower lip with sharp, mean teeth, because his hand goes from Tommy's collar to his hair and tugs. It doesn't hurt in his heart.

Tommy wheels away as far as Sal's grip on his shirt will let him, panting, panic welling up like he was the one who started it, like he slipped after years of promising himself he wouldn't. His hand is shaking as he touches it to his lips. His mouth feels like it's on fire.

"How - how did you know - "

"You're not as subtle as you think you are, babe."

"You fucking asshole," Tommy laughs.

"That's nice," Sal says. "That's real nice. Come here, you dumbass. I'm not leaving you."

He kisses Tommy again, and this time it doesn't hurt anywhere.

[diazsdimples]

"When will I see you again?" + buddietommy

“When will I see you again?” Buck pants.

Eddie stands a foot away from him, close enough to reach out and touch, but it feels as though there’s a gaping chasm between them. Full of unspoken words and actions that couldn’t be taken back.

“I don’t know, Buck,” Eddie replies. His voice is heavy, shoulder slumped as though the weight of the world rests on them. And in some way, Buck supposes, it does. Eddie has always taken on the burdens of others, whether he needs to or not. “I just… I can’t… I don’t know.”

Buck feels Tommy behind him, his boyfriend’s presence familiar and comforting. The evening air is cool, a slight hint of damp as the dew begins to settle, even now. He shivers and Tommy wraps an arm around his shoulder.

“Eddie I – I’m sorry, I thought you felt – I didn’t mean to fuck this up for us.”

“It’s not you Buck.”

Eddie turns now, and Buck can see the fear in his eyes, the blind panic as the weight of what they’ve done finally sinks in. It had been so good, with their bodies sliding against each other, rutting and writhing like animals in heat. It had been intoxicating – Buck had thought he might have an aneurysm when he watched Eddie grab Tommy by the shirt and haul him in to claim his lips – but now it sits heavy in the pit of Buck’s stomach. It had soured the instant Eddie had thrown his clothes on and rushed out the door.

“Then what -?”

“I just need a little time, okay?” Eddie’s breaths come in gulps. He’s working his way up to an astronomical panic attack – Buck can tell – but when Buck steps forward to place a hand on his arm, to comfort him, he shies away. “Just – please – let me have some time. Let me figure all this out.”

Buck opens his mouth to respond, to beg him not to leave, but Tommy cuts in first.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” he says, his tone far more understanding than Buck could manage. “Take all the time you’ll need. We’ll be here.”

“I’ll always be here,” Buck wants to say, but he holds it in, biting his lip. He doesn’t need to say it aloud. Eddie knows.

Eddie softens slightly, relieved. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, regret dripping from his words. He takes a step forwards, closing the gap between himself and Tommy and tentatively, as though expecting rejection, places his palm on Tommy’s cheek and kisses him softly.

Buck aches as he watches, the ecstasy he’d felt the first time he’d watch Eddie and Tommy kiss now replaced with a deep yearning. He wants Eddie so badly.

Eddie breaks his kiss with Tommy and turns to Buck. His thumb is rough and calloused as it strokes across Buck’s cheekbone, but it’s pleasant. It’s familiar, not dissimilar to Tommy’s. Buck’s heart stutters in his chest as Eddie’s lips brush against his. He curls his fingers around Eddie’s belt loop, needing something tangible to cling to. Too soon, Eddie pulls away, patting Buck’s cheek twice before he restores the distance between them.

“I’ll call in a few days, okay?”

Buck can’t do much else but nod. Tommy’s hand rests on the back of his neck, grounding but not enough. Not what he craves.

“Drive safe,” he croaks before turning on his heel and heading back into the house, unable to watch as Eddie drives away.

Tommy must follow him in a moment later, settling into the couch beside Buck.

“Did I ruin everything?” Buck whispers, his head in his hands. It’s his biggest fear – he can’t lose Eddie. Losing Eddie means losing the best friend he’s ever had, losing the biggest rock in his life, losing Christopher.

Tommy’s arm circles around Buck’s shoulders and he pulls him close. Buck goes easily, leaning into Tommy’s comforting embrace.

“No, I don’t think so. I think he just needs some time. He’s got a lot to process.”

“But…” Buck begins, but he doesn’t know what else to say. What else there is to say. Nothing he says will bring Eddie back into their home, or undo what happened – make them talk about it before rushing into something they weren’t ready for. He settles for the phrase that’s been echoing in his mind since Eddie stepped over their threshold an hour prior.

“But I love him.”

“I know, baby,” Tommy sighs, pressing a just about Buck’s birthmark. “I love him too.”

[wannabanauthor]

I still can’t stop thinking about BuckTommy in 7x04.

Because Buck was losing his ever loving mind over not being able to spend quality time with Tommy meanwhile Tommy was all cool and composed.

And they both had crushes on each other the whole time.

Buck was struggling so hard. You could see his mind working extra hard to understand what he’s feeling. He wanted Tommy but didn’t know why.

How many times do you think he replayed that shoulder touch from 7x03 in his mind? We know that he felt that connection and was so frustrated that he couldn’t keep Tommy’s attention for more than a few minutes.

Meanwhile Tommy was crushing hard internally but kept it cool in the outside. You could see his little facade slip during the entire basketball scene. He was struggling just as hard as Buck. But at least he knew why.

Buck was like a peacock that entire episode, mating dance and all. He wanted Tommy to notice him like Mateo in Superstore, and then for the other guy to be like “Yeah, I noticed you” but Tommy put his own little spin on it.

I can’t stop thinking about Tommy trying to talk himself into going to his crush’s apartment to settle things. That man really put himself out there to make sure things were still good between Eddie and Buck, and then he got a kiss and date from it.

Tommy seems very observant, so it’s interesting that it took Buck saying he wanted Tommy’s attention for Tommy to get it. But then again, I understand how hard it is to have gaydar while also having “I hope they’re gay”dar.

You see, now I have ideas on what would happened if Tommy didn’t have plans after the Harbor tour. I definitely think they would have kissed after going out for beer.

Or what would happen if Tommy and Buck became friends with benefits before dating.

I need to rewatch the 7x04 scenes more often because I just love how Tommy was the black cat and Buck was the golden retriever. Not to mention Tommy trying to get a read on Buck while Buck was like “I’m not interesting at all, tell me more about yourself” with heart eyes and a huge smile.

I know Tommy must have been suffering “goddamn, he’s cute and hot and funny and his smile is a goddamn WMD”.

The in episode 7x05 we get Tommy flirting harder and Buck’s all bashful. Whatever happened to the cocky Firehose? I mean we do see it in 7x06 in the hospital lobby.

I wonder what would have happened if they extended the pre-kiss flirting from 7x04.

I can’t get over these two nerds and their crushes on each other. Aargh, they’re so cute!

[headkiss]

can I request joel taking care of reader who is seriously injured? I’m thinking maybe something gets infected and she gets really sick, so he is catering to her every need? I love the hurt/comfort dynamic because I feel like his love language is acts of service!!

hiii it’s a teeny bit different but i hope u still like it!!! | 0.7k angst to fluff, tw for an injury and blood!

“You’re gonna be fine.”

The voice is so clearly Joel’s, that you could never miss, but you can’t tell if it’s real. Your vision is hazy, ears ringing, you’re not sure where you are anymore.

It all happened so fast. Your shift with Joel, the raiders coming out from nowhere, fighting them off, the searing pain of a knife in your side. Everything after that is blank, slipping in and out of consciousness.

“You hear me? You’re gonna be okay,” it’s him again, and you can feel his arms around you, carrying you back to Jackson, probably.

“Joel,” you muster out his name before closing your eyes again.

“‘M right here.”

He’s trying his best to be composed, to be strong for you, but the blood soaking your shirt has his hands shaking and his mind reeling with a memory that never seems to stop haunting him. But he won’t lose you, he can’t.

By the time Jackson comes into view, you’ve been quiet, but Joel’s hand that holds your head up can feel the pulse in your neck. You’re gonna live because you have to, because he can’t lose you, especially not like this. Not when he hasn’t said the things he wants to tell you.

Tommy’s the one who sees Joel carrying you first, and then there’s yelling and people clearing a path, and then Joel’s laying you down on a bed at the doctor’s.

It feels like hours in the waiting room before someone steps out and Joel stands right away.

“It’s gonna be alright,” the doctor says, nodding to the hall behind him, “go ahead.”

Joel doesn’t waste a second, nodding and rushing back into the room. He finds you, laying down, breathing, alive. He pulls up the guest chair and sits down next to your bed, reaching out and grabbing your hand.

When you wake up, you feel something cool being pressed to your forehead. Your senses come back slowly, hearing Joel’s voice mumbling something you can’t make out, then feeling his hand clasped around yours. To make sure you aren’t dreaming it up, you squeeze his hand.

“Come on, wake up,” you hear him say, his thumb running back and forth over your skin. Joel’s never been a man of many words, but he tells you enough with the few he uses.

You blink your eyes open slowly, fluttering and wincing at the brightness until you can see the ceiling of the doctor’s place. You lull your head to the side and see him, hair a mess, eyebrows furrowed (like usual), a frown on his face.

“Joel?” You croak out.

His eyes flick over to yours, and he lifts a damp washcloth from your forehead with the hand that isn’t holding onto yours.

“You’re awake.”

“Everything hurts,” you say, trying to sit up.

“Stop. Let me help you, okay?” He doesn’t let you answer, lifting you gently with an arm around your shoulders to put an extra pillow behind your back. His hand is still in yours. “Can I do something?”

“Water would be nice.”

Joel doesn’t waste a second, twisting around to grab a glass of water on the table next to your bed and then lifting it to your mouth. He tilts it for you, too.

“I could’ve done that,” you say as he puts the glass back down.

“I don’t want you hurting yourself. You lost a lot of blood, and you’ve got stitches.”

It’s then you remember what really happened to you. The raiders, the pain, the flashes of Joel helping you home.

“You saved my life.”

“Did you really think I’d leave you, sweetheart?”

Joel calls you ‘sweetheart’ on rare occasions, when he can’t seem to stop it from slipping, and every time, it makes your heart do a stupid jump.

“No, Joel. I didn’t.”

As quiet as he is, as closed-off and often grumpy, you know that he cares about people, about you.

“I was really fuckin’ scared,” he says, pushing damp baby hairs from your forehead, “I thought I didn’t really get scared anymore.”

“You’re not as cold as you think, Joel.” You blink slowly, squeeze his hand again just to be sure you aren’t hallucinating, “you’re not cold at all.”

“Not with you.”

Joel wants to say so much more, and he will, someday, but he can tell you’re exhausted, your blinks growing longer, heavier. It’s like you’re fighting to stay awake, to keep talking to him.

“You can sleep, sweetheart,” he says, his hand shifting to rest on the side of your head. “You need the rest.”

“Will you stay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He’ll stay as long as you’ll have him.

[dancingtotuyo]

8. a cry of my heart to see

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Tragedy strikes Jackson

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: blood, medical care (probably bad I'm not a doctor tried to keep it brief and vague), Character Death, loss, grief, funeral, smut, P I V, cream pie, Oral sex (F receiving)

Notes: Shout out to my girl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for the beta read!

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3273

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR READERS 18 YEARS AND OLDER. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT OR READ.

One Year Later 

He’s been out on patrol for days. They’re widening the perimeter and he’s on the initial team to do so. It’s nerve-wracking. You’re losing sleep. 

Maria tries to assure you they’re fine. No news is good news, but it falls on deaf ears. Her husband isn’t out there in unexplored areas. Joel is. Tommy tries to hide his worry. Despite both their assurances, you know they’re concerned. It’s risky.

For the most part, life goes on. Ellie has been staying in your guest room since Joel left. You thought she would look forward to having the house to herself, not that Joel doesn’t already spend the majority of nights at your house. You wonder if she fears the same thing you do. 

They’re supposed to be back in a week, but day 8 passes without sign of them. 

On the ninth day, one of the gate watchmen barrels into the clinic, causing you to knock over an entire bin of instruments you had just boiled. His eyes are wide, skin pale causing your stomach to drop. 

“What is it?”

“We just spotted them about a mile out. They’re down a rider. Another looks pretty banged up, can barely sit up in the saddle.” 

"Who?” You fight the urge to vomit. 

“We don’t know.”

“Go get Pooley.” The panic is setting in. You can’t do this. You can’t go into concerned girlfriend mode. Is that what you are? It doesn’t sound quite right. No, you need to be the medical professional you were taught to be. Calm, cool, collected like the professional you were on the UT Trauma team.

The man nods, rushing out of the clinic. You look around, pulling out everything you might need for easy access. You don’t know if he was mulled or shot or something else. This is hardly the first time something like this happened, but it’s the first time you haven’t been able to focus. 

It’s silly in hindsight, but you never worried quite like this over Gabe. He always promised to come back. He seemed so confident that he would that you’d bought into his confidence, and he always did until he didn’t. 

Once you’re convinced you’re set up enough to take care of the incoming injured, your feet carry you out toward the gate. It’s beautiful out today. The sun shines. Birds chirp and bees buzz. The kids play tag in the apple orchard, but it all feels like a bad dream like the world is moving in slow motion. There’s a ringing in your ears. 

The gate is just opening as the group draws closer. A small crowd has already formed, mostly the families of those sent out. You’re too far away to see out of the gate so you have to wait for them to file in. 

The first rider comes in. It’s not Joel. You can feel your grip on reality fading. You’re trying to stay. You have a job to do. Maria appears next to you as the second rider crosses in. She tugs you closer to the chaos, through the families waiting with bated breath. Two more. Not Joel. She brings you next to Dr. Pooley who waits ready to spring into action. People make room around you so you can tend to the injured as soon as they come in. 

Another pair cross into safety. John Lacy holds the reins of Adam Perkin’s horse as Adam hunches over in the saddle looking closer to death than life. John has them next to you within seconds, spewing the story of his injury to you and the doctor. You can’t pay attention, going on your tiptoes to catch sight of the last rider, but the horses block your view. The gate is closing now.

“Maria?” You look at her in desperation, pulled between the need to help and get status on Joel. 

She gives you a nod and dashes off to investigate further. 

Adam half rolls out of the saddle, in and out of consciousness before several strong sets of arms aid him to the ground. 

“Someone get the gurney!” A voice calls out as you fall to your knees beside the man. It’s your voice. Your body is taking over, but your brain is still elsewhere. The ringing in your ears grows louder. “Someone tell me what we’re looking at!” Your shaking hands rip the stained flannel and undershirt. They're already rags anyway. 

“Took a knife to the gut two days ago. Closed it up but it got infected and reopened on the way back,” John reports. 

“And you didn’t stop to close it back up?” You yell. 

“We had to drop the med bag.”

You groan in frustration. Dr. Pooley takes vital signs. Even in the haze you notice the signs that he’s over concentrating. His lips move to count Adams BPM and then he stops and starts over. 

“What do you have for me, Doc?” You’re desperate for help. Desperate for the old man to be able to do his job, but you see it in his face. He’s about to admit what you’ve assumed for months. 

“I don’t know,” he looks as lost as you feel right now, drowning in the panic of his own mortality. His own brain ceasing to work. You’ve seen the signs of dementia for months, and now the moment you need his help the most, he can’t think straight. You need his brain. You need to talk through this. 

“Gurney!” Someone yells, pushing toward you with the homemade gurney. It’s more of a litter you’d find in a medieval era movie, but it does the trick. 

They slam it to the ground, you don’t even have to let out the instructions before someone is counting and Adam is moved onto the stretcher. “Carefully!” You keep pressure on his wound, it’s definitely bleeding again. They must’ve missed something or it’s been bleeding internally all this time. Damnit! 

You’re almost to the clinic when you hear it, a life preserver in the raging ocean, Ellie’s voice. “JOEL!”

You turn to see her arms wrapped around his midsection, holding her as tight as she does to him. His eyes flicker to yours, and it’s like you snap back into your body with a thud, your mind crisp and clear. He smiles weakly your way and you can breathe again. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you. You’re pretty sure you’ve technically just performed a surgery you were in the room for once as a nurse 22 years ago. You probably missed most of the steps, but you know it was Adam’s only hope. Joyce Dobbins comes in with a poultice that’s supposed to help fight infection and “doctors him right up” as she likes to say. You don’t know enough to have an opinion. She’s the herbalist. 

You shower at the clinic, bones weary and eyelids drooping. Joyce knows enough to monitor him over night as does Rachel, Adam’s wife. 

You stumble home, the days events replaying on repeat in your head. The multiple times you thought you were going to lose Adam yet he somehow never faded. Lindsey’s never ending sobs from the backroom as she mourned Paul, you delivered their baby three years ago. Joel standing there giving you exactly what you needed so you could save a friend. 

Most of the time, it’s easy to ignore the dangers of the outside world while tucked within the walls of Jackson, your slice of normal in the world. Tonight is not one of them. 

You stumble up the porch stairs, anything but graceful as you cross the threshold. The house is quiet- no, peaceful. It’s an odd feeling compared to your raging mind. The house is clean, spotless. The orange glow of your living room lamp and the kitchen light warm you. Rumours spins in the corner, halfway through Songbird. You catch Joel in the kitchen wiping down the countertops. Your tea kettle whistles softly as he turns off the gas stove. 

“Joel…” your voice is hoarse. He spins around. He doesn’t smile, only walks toward you, pulling your limp frame into his as soon as he can. “I missed you,” you whisper. 

“I missed you too, Sweetheart.” His face burrows into the crook of your neck. 

“I thought…” you can’t finish the sentence without tears falling down your cheeks. He rocks you both softly. 

“Shhh, I know. I know.”

He kisses your head softly and then your lips. As much as you want to fall into bed, he forces you to eat something, drink the tea he’s brewed for you. You can barely sit upright, but you eat and drink and finally, he guides you upstairs, tucks you into bed, and curls up behind you. You fall asleep before he starts whispering sweet reassurances in your ear. 

You pull yourself out of bed earlier than you should. You have to go check in on Adam at the clinic. No news is good news. Anytime you’re not dragged out of bed after a day like yesterday, it’s a good thing. 

He’s not conscious but his fever is lower than it was when you left and that eases your worries some. Rachel doesn’t leave his bedside. 

Lindsey is in the backroom as they re- wrap Paul’s body. They’ll bury him today. He’s already been dead for three days. You take Lindsey’s hand without a word, standing solemn next to her. 

A hot tear marks your cheek as you watch Maria and Joyce diligently work. You were never awarded this luxury, could never gaze upon Gabe’s face one last time. Didn’t get to say goodbye. 

He has a tombstone in the cemetery. You don’t visit it often. He’s not there, his ashes spread to the wind now, rolling over the earth like invisible tumbleweeds. He probably likes that better anyway. 

The funeral is short, but all of Jackson crowds around for the service, to bury their fallen friend. Joel holds you close, arm wrapped around your waist. You lean heavy against him, gaining all your support from his frame. Carter and Ellie sit on the ground in front of you. 

When it’s time to lower Paul into the ground, Joel makes sure you’re steady on your feet before joining the rest of the patrol group. Adam is still unconscious in the clinic. They lower his body to the ground with precision that is too practiced. You wonder if he’s thinking of her, how he had to leave her body behind. He calls out her name at night sometimes. You know he’s reliving the night Sarah died. 

Lindsey’s cries start to pick up again. You slide onto the bench beside her, squeezing her hand tightly. Grace sits opposite you and Elaine stands behind. You don’t know Lindsey that well, but she’s joined your ranks now. Other women who have lost spouses close in around the grieving woman, a moment of solidarity. It’s a group that’s too large for your liking, too many lives taken. 

Joel holds your hand on the walk home. You keep walking, taking your path earlier than normal. You don’t speak, too many memories in your mind, too many emotions flooding your heart. 

You stop in at the clinic. Adam is in and out of consciousness. Joyce is giving him something for the pain. 

You cut your walk short, just one lap tonight. There’s a note on the door. Carter is at Maria and Tommy’s for a sleepover. You sigh in relief, thankful to not have to worry about another human being tonight.

Joel helps you out of your shoes. He helps you upstairs. His hands move slowly over you, half roaming, half massaging your weary muscles. He follows your collarbone and shucks the cardigan from your shoulders, frees you from your jeans leaving you in nothing but a tank top. It’s one of the few times his eyes don’t immediately land on your exposed crotch. He can’t help but chuckle at your commitment to not wearing underwear. 

Fingers delve into your tight calves. You let out a soft moan as you fall back into the mattress, sheets cool against your skin. 

Your eyes close, relishing in the feeling of him. This is the first real chance you’ve had to spend together since he got back. There’s nothing inherently sensual to his movements and the way he touches you, but your body heats in response, craving the connection, the assurance. 

The air shifts as your breath hitches. His fingers crawl up your legs leaving tiny trails of fire as he presses a kiss to each of your calves. Desire begins to burn in your body, slow and hot. “Joel…” You moan, legs falling open. 

“I know, Sweetheart,” He feels it too, voice low and thick as his eyes darken. “I know.”

Your hands tangle in his curls as he takes his time covering your thighs in kisses, swiping his tongue over your skin from time to time. “I’m here,” he says again. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

There’s no rush to the finish line, neither of you have the energy for that tonight. It’s slow, languid like a hike up a steep cliff as his mouth slowly greets your slick cunt, his tongue runs through your folds at a steady pace over and over and over and over. He’s pulling you closer to the edge, taking his time until finally, you cry out arching into his mouth, spilling more of yourself onto his tongue. 

He pulls away, chin glistening in your soft bedroom light, proud smile on his lips. “That’s my girl.” 

You whimper in response, hands traveling up his forearms. His calloused palms roam over your thighs and hip, fingers drawing soft patterns across your skin. 

Leading with his lips, he makes his way up your sternum. Not a drop of urgency in his body, he eases up your tank top. It’s like he has all the time in the world. You wish for all the time in the world as long as you get to spend it with him. 

Finally, his lips meet yours. You taste yourself on his lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hands wander his shoulder and neck, your fingers glide through his hair again. Nails rake down his back. At some point he shed his shirt and pants, leaving him bare against you. 

“Lay on your back,” you say.

He pulls back slowly, eyebrows raised. “What are you thinking about?”

“Having you on your back.”

He chuckles, warm arms wrapping around your middle as he rolls over. You brace yourself on your knees. His hard cock presses against your thigh. You run it through your folds. Joel lets out a soft moan as his eyes glaze with lust. “Fuck, Sweetheart. Let me in there.”

“Patience,” you chide, but have no intention of keeping him waiting for long. 

You nudge his dick against your clit, sending sparks through your veins until you center your opening over him. He holds your hips as you slowly sink onto him. You stretch around him, filling you so completely. Once you’ve taken him to the hilt, you sit there, eyes focused on each other exchanging soft pants. 

Your cunt clenches around him, pulling moans from both of you, but you don’t move, hands finding purchase against his soft stomach, thumb running through his dark happy trail. The two of you bask in the feeling of your skin against the other’s, desperate for the certainty that you’re alive and breathing, that the blur you’re living in is reality and you still have each other. 

He cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your teeth scrape against it. Then you lift up just a little bit, keeping him mostly inside you before you sink back down. You keep the slow pace as you ease up and down, increasing the distance a little more each time.

 Joel’s eyes never move from you, sometimes meeting yours and other times appreciating your naked form above him. His hand trails down your torso, finding the wet heat of your core. He finds your clit with the precision only granted by his familiarity with your body. He has you memorized, every single inch of you. 

You let out a sharp gasp when he touches you. He holds his thumb steady against you, letting your movements drag his thumb across your clit. You clench around him and he groans. Up and down, your hands perched on his hairy chest, nails biting into his pecs.

 As you draw nearer to the peak, Joel starts to meet you, hitting a different angle inside of you. You let out a long moan, head tipping backward. Then you reach the crest, cunt milking his cock, coming undone on top of him. 

Sweat beads along Joel's forehead as your dripping pussy flutters around him. He’s not far behind you, filling you with his spend. The feel of him inside you, coating you, causes another breathy moan to leave your lips. 

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” He pants, pulling you down beside him, sweaty skin flush against his. 

You smile softly at him, brushing the curl in front of his forehead back. He kisses your palm. You should feel guilty for enjoying Joel’s comforts, his warm skin against yours when Lindsey lays in an empty bed across the way, but all you feel is relief. You’re grateful to be spared heartache for once. 

Eventually, Joel rolls out of bed, returning with a warm washcloth to clean up the mess he left behind. You’ve pulled on his white tshirt. You don’t say a word, just stare at him in the lamp light. He’s beautiful, a gentle giant, and he’s yours. 

When he crawls back beside you, he looks at you like he reads every thought in your mind, kisses your forehead, and turns out the lamp. You turn on your side. He spoons you, arm thrown over your waist. 

His soft snores start to play in your ears. The crease in his forehead is nonexistent with sleep as you look over your shoulder. Then, it hits you. You’re happy here with him despite the last 48 hours. It feels wrong, like you cheated death. You just hope it doesn’t come back to collect double, but you’re so damn happy. Joel Miller has permeated every single fiber of your being. 

You’ve known this, but now, you accept it. Your muscles tense with it. It’s not enough to send you spiraling by any means, but you fought it for so long, you’re not sure how to proceed. You could tell him now, wake him up and finally let the words slip off your tongue. More tension gathers between your shoulders. 

Joel mumbles, tightening his grip around you as he pulls you flush against him. He kisses your shoulder. 

“Don’t start with that.” Sleep coats his voice. You wonder how he’s so in tune with you even in sleep he can feel the tension. 

“Don’t think it works like that.”

He hums, squeezing you again. His lips press between your shoulder blades, beard brushing against your skin sweeping the tension away, pulling the thoughts from your head. 

He chuckles as you sink into him. “You sure about that.”

You reach behind you. Your nails rake over his thigh, just above his knee until you find your target. You pluck one of his leg hairs with a practiced precision. 

“Ow! Not nice!”

You laugh, burrowing into your pillow. “Go to sleep, old man.”

“Goodnight, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek, holding you so close your brain can’t think of anything but his solid frame at your back. 

[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Wednesday

do I need new wip? no. Do I have one?yes. this one should be not really big tho. it based on this post I've made . it's a little draft bc I can't find my normal words (p.s. special thanks to @evansboyfriend for making me think about Sal)

Buck hears the wolf whistle and turns to see the man who appreciatively looks at the place where Buck’s ball landed.

“Rising NFL star?” 

Buck chuckles, “I’m a little too old to be a rising star, but I once almost got the scholarship because of how I played.”

“Almost?”

“Wasn’t interested in that college,” Buck shrugs. “Wasn’t interested in colleges at all. Or interested in becoming professional too to go there anyway.”

“I see,” the man nods and offers his hand. “Sal Deluca.”

“Evan Buckley,” Buck shakes the hand smiling at the man, who holds his ball in question and Buck nods, catching the pass and then passing back. “People call me Buck.”

“Nice to meet you, Buck,” Sal smiles and points to his shirt. “Which station?”

“118, you?”

“147. But I worked at 118 before. Are Howie and Hen still working?” Sal passes again, but this time it’s harder to catch. Buck smirks at the little challenge he sees in his new acquaintance’s eyes. Ohm finally someone who really can throw football.

“Yeah they are,” he throws the ball harder now too,so hard that Sal has to run back a little to catch it and hold it to his chest.

“Tell them I said hi,” the man this time he throws the ball in the direction of the goal and then Buck whistles.

“And who’s the rising star, huh?”

Sal laughs and they run to take their footballs back. 

“No, kid, if you’re too old to be the rising star I definitely won't be one. More like a fading star.”

Now it’s Buck who’s laughing. 

…

“Are you free from the shift tomorrow too?”Sal asks him when they are walking to their cars. “Me and several guys from 147 and 136 gonna play football at six tomorrow. We are down one person. Wanna join?”

“Hell, yeah,” Buck nods, not wanting to lose the possible chance of a new friendship with a funny man, who plays football on the same level as him, and some more firefighters. It was a moment since Buck could find someone to actually play. 

Maybe it can help him to get over thoughts about Tommy. He just needs new friends he has the same hobbies with. And he really should do hobbies he likes more.

“Cool,” Sal smiles, stopping near his Jeep, and takes his phone out. “Here, put your number I’ll text you details.”

After Buck does exactly that, they exchange pleasantries and banter about each other's football skills, discuss the advantages of having a jeep and finally disperse when the sky is illuminated by the orange light of the setting sun.

Tagged by @underwaterninja13

Tagging @wikiangela @tizniz @devirnis @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @evnnkinard @evansboyfriend @evanbi-ckley @repressedqueen @rogerzsteven @racerchix21 @queerdiaz @pirrusstuff @aspecbuddie @saybiwithme @shortsighted-owl @giddyupbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @loveyouanyway @loserdiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @bewilderedbuckley @neverevan @monsterrae1 @honestlyeddie-im-bi @bi-buckrights @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! I've spent hours reading your Steddie stuff when I honestly should have been sleeping because work and adulting. Gotta be some of my favorite writing! You have requests/prompts open? I have 2! If you like them :) 1. The Soulmate idea of people having a moving animal tattoo representing their Soulmate. Steve has hyperactive bat who loves to drape itself around his neck quite possessively. Eddie with a retriever pup or something that likes to curl up over his heart. 2. Always a sweetheart Steve? No King Steve era thing. He bugs Eddie to learn about D&D to understand his kids better qnd our poor metal gremlin melts :) I'm Soft Boi, so sorry for no angst.

I'm posting the 1st one here, but on the second one, I am gonna just give a rec instead. Last Man Standing by @griefabyss69 (GriefAbyss on AO3) is kind of this request but taking it to filth level 😈 But anyways, this idea is so fucking cool my dudes. I love a good soulmate AU, and when it's something super unique like this, I lose my shit. I definitely think someone could make a slow burn with this idea and if anyone does, please let me know! - Mickala ❤️

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

He used to hate it.

A bat was such a menacing and disgusting creature.

Anyone who saw it would give him a look that was equal parts apologetic and concerned.

But when Steve started getting left alone at home, when he only had surface level friends, when he cried himself to sleep because the silence wasn’t enough to drown out the negative thoughts, the bat wrapped itself around his neck, and he didn’t feel so alone.

He’d started sleeping with his hand on his shoulder just to feel closer to his soulmate.

Hoped that whoever it was wouldn’t be disappointed that he was theirs.

————-

Eddie convinced himself for his entire childhood that the golden retriever tattoo that ran up and down his arms every day was some sympathy soulmate tattoo.

There was no way his soulmate was someone this hyper.

And then Wayne explained there was usually a story behind the tattoo, something more than just the personality or energy of a person.

At night, the retriever would pace across his chest, eventually settling right over his heart.

He wondered what his tattoo representation was.

He hoped it was a bat.

————-

“Dude, it’s not a big deal. Just show us!” Tommy yelled to Steve from the pool.

Steve had managed to hide it from his friends for so long.

He wasn’t ashamed necessarily, but he definitely didn’t need Tommy and Carol or any of the rest of the basketball team to see it.

The tattoo often stayed hidden pretty well during the day, usually hid on his thigh or stomach. He got away with always wearing shirts for practice and skipped post-practice showers with excuses that he had a study group to get to.

But his pool was a problem, especially now that he was at an age where everyone wanted to come over to swim when his parents weren’t around, which was often.

He tried to make excuses, said he was just worried about the sun, worried about a creepy neighbor watching.

It only worked a couple of times.

Now it was night, so no sun.

The neighbor was on vacation.

And everyone expected him to strip down and get into the pool.

So he did.

Everyone stared in silence as the bat flew from his stomach to his back and settled on his shoulder.

It seemed like it wanted to be seen, but still wasn’t sure how it wanted to be perceived.

Steve could relate.

No one commented on it, probably too afraid that one wrong word would get them kicked out of the pool permanently.

When he went to bed that night, the bat took its place around his neck, his hand rested in its place against his shoulder, and he sighed.

“I hope you’re being seen,” he whispered into his empty room.

——————-

The golden retriever was completely still for more than eight hours the same night Starcourt exploded.

Eddie tried not to panic for the first few hours, knew it could be any number of reasons the tattoo wasn’t moving.

But after hour six, he called Wayne at work, worry carrying over the line as fireworks boomed in the background.

“It’s not moving. It- you said when it stopped it meant- they can’t be, though.”

“Eds, take a few slow breaths, son. C’mon now, you’d have known if he-”

“But what if mine’s broken? What if the connection isn’t right?” Eddie tried taking breaths, but it wasn’t working.

The more he thought about it, the more likely it was that his soulmate was gone.

By the time Wayne made it home from work, the retriever had moved from his forearm to its usual place over his heart, and Eddie was fast asleep on the couch, his hand resting on top of it.

—--------------------

Being dragged into more freaky Upside Down shit was not on Steve’s to-do list. Then again, it never really was.

He wouldn’t have even bothered coming with Dustin and Max if not for the fact that Dustin was terrified something had happened to his new best friend Eddie.

He tried to hide his terrible mood, but knew he was failing.

He woke up this morning to his bat already on his leg, seemingly asleep, though it was normally still around his neck or on his shoulder when he woke up.

It hadn’t moved all morning, and he was a little worried about what that might mean.

He was also getting more worried by the day that he’d never meet his soulmate.

He knew it was dramatic, but most people he went to school with had met theirs by now, their tattoos now permanently placed in matching spots on their bodies.

“Dustin, this is so stupid,” he reiterated for the hundredth time as they walked up to the boathouse door.

He kept thinking it to himself as they poked around looking for Eddie, as he was being held against the wall with a broken bottle to his neck by Eddie, as he felt a flutter in his stomach at the way Eddie was watching him as they told him about the Upside Down.

He didn’t take the time over the next couple of days to pay much attention to his tattoo, didn’t really consider the fact that what little time he slept, he was so out of it he didn’t even notice whether the bat was on his neck or not.

Didn’t think about it until a moment in the RV alone with Eddie, when something in his brain told him to check on the bat.

“Sorry, just. Can you wait one second?” Steve interrupted Eddie’s thought as kindly as he could.

“Uh, yeah?” Eddie responded, confused.

He slipped to the back, not bothering to close the curtain that separated it from the rest of the RV.

He lifted his shirt in hopes of seeing it, but it wasn’t there.

He groaned and unbuttoned his jeans, rushing to just check and see if the bat had moved at all.

He shoved his jeans down and frowned.

It was in the same place still.

On his inner thigh on his right leg.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, or what he thought was under his breath.

“Everything okay?” Eddie’s voice was much closer than he expected, making him jump and rush to pull his pants back up. “Shit, was that your tattoo?”

“Yeah. It hasn’t moved in a while.”

“Neither has mine.” Eddie moved in closer. “Actually, mine’s on my thigh too. Kinda makes it hard to check.”

“Which thigh?” Steve couldn’t help asking.

“Right.”

“What is it?”

“Golden retriever. Can’t really imagine who it would be,” he admitted.

Steve’s first and only pet had been a puppy. A golden retriever named Daisy.

She was his entire world for almost a year until she chewed on one of his dad’s expensive watches and ended up being given to a man who worked with him.

He cried for days after that, didn’t talk to his dad for weeks, not that that was difficult to do since he was gone more often than not.

He vowed that he would get another one the moment he was an adult.

That didn’t quite work out.

But his nannies all used to call him a retriever, his energy contagious in the best way, his playful demeanor a relief. As he grew up, it got dulled by his parents, expectations, society, but he knew inside, all of that was still there.

“What’s yours?” Eddie asked, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“A bat.”

Eddie tilted his head and looked at him, eyes squinting to take him in.

“A bat?”

“Yeah. He’s a playful guy, but kinda shy it seems like,” Steve’s smile was fond until it was sad. “At least until he stopped moving.”

“When did he stop moving?” Eddie ignored the fact that it was a he for now.

“I guess I noticed it the day we found you in the boathouse.”

They both stared at each other for a moment, possibly coming to similar conclusions.

“What about yours?” Steve asked quietly, though something told Eddie he already knew the answer.

“The day you found me in the boathouse.”

“I-”

“How-”

“Dingus, we gotta go!” Robin was suddenly yelling as the RV door slammed open.

They could figure this out later.

They would have to.

—-----------------------

As Steve sat by Eddie’s bedside in the hospital, he thought about how often the bat tattoo had been the only comfort he had, the only thing that kept him from being completely alone.

He thought about how Eddie had always done his best to include the people who didn’t belong anywhere else, how he’d put on a show to protect himself, but hated being seen.

Wayne watched him from the other side of the bed, silently judging him, probably trying to figure out how to kick him out.

But he couldn’t.

He felt the pull now.

Now that he’d been around Eddie, somewhat gotten to know him, how he was fearless when it came to the gremlins, was willing to give up his own life if it meant getting Dustin to safety, he could feel the tug on his heart.

It was inconvenient since they didn’t know when or really even if Eddie would wake up.

So he waited.

He waited for Wayne to kick him out. He waited for doctors and nurses to have answers. He waited for Eddie to wake up.

He waited to know if he’d be able to have his soulmate or not.

—-------------------

Eddie’s first word when he woke up was Steve’s name.

Steve let out an uncontrollable sob, curling down so his head rested in the sheets of the bed.

Wayne’s hand was on his back, his voice trying to speak to him and Eddie at the same time.

They’d gotten closer over the last few days, Wayne’s calm presence enough to keep Steve from completely losing his mind with worry.

But the pain meds in the IV drip seemed to catch back up to Eddie within minutes and he was asleep again.

“He woke up though. Your boy woke up,” Wayne said to him, holding his hand.

“Yeah. He did.”

—-------------------

When Eddie left the hospital, Steve insisted on pushing his wheelchair to Wayne’s truck himself.

The nurse agreed with little argument; The hospital was incredibly understaffed and overrun with patients from the “earthquake” and she had a million better things to do.

The walk down was mostly quiet, but not awkward.

“I think some of my tattoo is missing,” Eddie finally said, barely more than a whisper.

“From the bats?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Doesn’t change anything.”

“No?” he asked, voice full of hope.

“Not a thing for me.”

—------------------------

They dated.

It was unconventional in every way.

Steve had never pictured himself with a man, but now he couldn’t picture himself with anyone but Eddie.

Eddie had to explain that they couldn’t just go out and hold hands like any of Steve’s other dates, they had to be careful.

It wasn’t always easy; Steve got frustrated and Eddie got insecure.

But they always ended their nights with soft kisses, with whispered words of comfort and promises.

They fell in love like that, the tattoos only the beginning of something that no one could have expected.

[luxurychristmaspudding]

Clot | Joel Miller

summary: joel has lost something. but once he pieces himself back together, he'll remember what it is.

pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader

ratings/warnings: mature. canon typical violence, mentions of blood and injury. mentions of a dead child (sarah), lots of grief, canon suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts. canon divergent. abby wants a cure and she’ll break up families to get it. joel losing a limb and hating himself for it. wanky formatting as a treat. reader has hair but is otherwise not described. no use of y/n.

wc: 3k

an: i can't edit this anymore, it's making me ugly cry.

Everything is hot, heavy, and delirious, 

                                    and Joel has lost something. 

A tight band is wound around his head, and it’s making him ache. It’s making his skin pull taught with blisters, wind and throb with thick blood. For so long, it’s all he can feel. Everything else is too dense.

His head revolves like a planet on strings, like it rolls on some unstoppable, destructive axis between galaxies. He doesn’t know if he shifts and pitches it, or if someone else does, or whether it really moves at all. The whole inside of his skull spins, and between deep, deep black and boiling red, he can feel the acid of that spin climb up his throat and dribble out his mouth. It burns and tastes foul, but he can do nothing to stop it. He can do nothing but spin and float somewhere both within and outside his body, and feel - more than know - that something is missing. 

There is something viscid around him, like he’s been wrapped and bound, like everything’s too tight and too thick. He can’t hear properly, which isn’t something new - but it’s deeper, soupy. It panics him, tightens the skin around his chest.

                                        He’s sure he’s drowning. 

He’s sure he’s drowning, but he doesn’t know how or why. All he knows is that it’s taking him too long to get back to his body, to surface, too long to remember something.

But he is so, so tired. And leaden, everything burning or burned - scarring and flaking and broken and agonising.

When he is something only close to conscious, something a hair away from lucid, he can feel himself twist in clinging sheets, can feel his fingers clutch at a mattress. He can feel broken bones unset themselves in blind fury and fear, can feel bloodlust and scorching wildfires of pain. He can sense loss which grows bone deep, a cavern he cannot turn his face from. High-pitched, too-fast breaths, a wisp of coconut against his chin. Something he hasn’t smelled in so long, something his arms ache to reach out to touch, to snatch, to hold. It’s a desperate feeling. It clings to his chest and cloys his breaths and drips through his ribs, sticky and tar-like, oozes down his body until it fixes him where he lays. He tries to move, he really does. But he can’t match the thoughts with his muscles, can’t see his body, can’t feel his brain. He needs to wake up. He needs to wake up. He needs to wake up he needs to wake up he needs to wake up

he needs to wake up, because he’s failing again. He’s losing again, something is slipping away again. High-pitched, quick, gasping breaths, the clutch of brown curls in his fist, coconut, the wet flash of her eyelashes against his neck, her fear, oh god, her fear, how scared they were, how scared she was, so scared he thought he’d be sick, the clutch of her hands as she pushed against him, as she tried and begged not to move, the blood so much blood the terror in her eyes i know i know i know

                            tommy help me 

come on babygirl, nothing nothing nothing he could do nothing but feel wet, warm blood rapidly cooling in the night air help me don’t do this baby come on please -

Come on, Tommy is saying, come on, we’ve gotta go.

But he can’t. His brother is there, his daughter is here. His body is welded to where he holds his girl in his arms, but his body is nowhere at all. His body is a gaping emptiness of a thing, and he thinks that alone in this vacuum, this grief, this misery, he might consume the whole universe and everything in it.

And he would not be sorry, to destroy the thing that took his baby away. He would not be sorry to destroy the coward who flinched from his own bullet.

                                           He has lost something.

Things are dark for a long time.

There are sounds that reach and pull to him, droplets of rain which patter quietly along roofs and find their way through gaps to drip and run towards him. If he were a body in the dirt, he would grow things. This would be new life. 

But he is not. Instead he absorbs and swallows and pays no attention except to the destruction of what is leaking into him. He gnashes at the darkness he is locked within, wrestles with the lumps of his heart.

When the tenor and tone of their voices becomes tangible, he can taste it.

He can taste the cigarettes he used to share with Tommy while their mama wasn’t looking, he can taste canned ravioli from out on the road to… somewhere. He cannot remember. He lets Ellie and Tommy soothe and lull him in and out of consciousness, lets the swell and tangle of their voices sew shut the gaping wound he has become. Something pulls, something tugs, something that is still missing. Joel searches for it in their muffled conversation, but he can’t summon it. Can’t get them to say it aloud until there is a familiar sound, a name, rough palm pressed to his aching head, a squeeze of a smaller hand to his, and Tommy is saying again come on, we’ve gotta go.

For the first time since the floating darkness began, Ellie’s voice stops. She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t sing. There’s no rhythmic sound of her sleepy breathing, no hollow tone of a guitar. The comfort and company he has heard in Tommy’s voice for days stops, too. He drifts in and out on the swell of a tide, grasping for purchase at a starless shore, and then Maria comes to his ear, quietly furious, outwardly heartbroken. He can’t understand what she’s saying, but he understands the intonation. 

Tommy has always loved so hard, been so loyal. Whatever the reason he’s disappeared, it must be good. And Ellie must have gone with him.

The knowledge brings him no peace, and his shapeless, fervid nightmares become worse.

Echoes of what Maria had said swirl around his brain like leaves circling a drain, illuminating with each dull thud of his tired heart. They’ve gone… they’ve gone… they’ve gone to…

He tries to grapple with it, he does - so hard. Gone to find - He feels like he should apologise. To Maria, for having some part in whatever idiot ploy Tommy has dragged himself and Ellie away into. To others. Faceless, nameless people who he waits to reveal themselves. To Sarah. Sarah.

                                                                      He has.

Every night he has apologised to his little girl for failing to keep her safe, for failing to die instead of her, with her. He has been on his knees beside his bed on so many nights, sobbing into his hands with his full body, the grief making his chest so unbearably tight, his throat raw, and even if he screamed for the rest of his life it would not be enough. It would not be enough. He has apologised to Ellie, so softened and so drowned in sadness that she had to forgive him. Pathetic, broken. But there’s someone else, someone else. A dark figure slouched in the corner, the dark smell of blood. Dark, dark, dark.

A small girl in a hospital gown, a gunshot echoing in an underground parking lot. The smell of her hair, pine needles lingering even after a wash. The heat and pressure of her against his chest.  No blood cooling in night air, but holding her just as tightly. The ache, the ache, the grief years in advance of what he’d have to confess, what he’d have to admit to her. They were gonna kill you. I cannot fail again. A tiny person curled up in a stream of light and grass, the twitch of something long broken in his heart. He knew, he knew even then I'm taking a ride with my best friend I hope he never lets me down again it’s okay babygirl it’s okay it's me i’m sorry i understand it's me i love you. The crack and bright of her grin through an astronaut's helmet, the scramble of limbs through a window. She’s not my kid, not my kid, my kid, my kid, my kid is dead, yeah she’s mine. My girl. Mighty and fierce and blood of my blood flesh of my flesh as close as she can be to -

The twitch of a limb which is no longer there. The phantom ache and strike of pain which should not be able to breach air. 

Without opening his eyes, he can tell. He does not know how long he has been out for, what drugs they gave him, but now, through this crack of bright in his skull he is beginning to understand. Sarah letting him go, Ellie bringing him back - come on, old man, you gotta work it out soon - it’s gone. His leg is gone. The dark, slouched figure in the corner. Smell of blood -

                            Where are you?

His breathing is so quick, so agitated, so panicked and wheezed, his body spasming so tightly that he hears Maria call for the doctor, for something beyond the grasp of his comprehension. He has lost something. He is useless - he will be nothing, he will rot. The people of Jackson will place him outside the wall because they would rather watch him crawl in circles in the dirt than let him back in, useless old man. If he has only one leg, he cannot keep people safe. He cannot patrol, he cannot ride, he cannot walk. He cannot stand to have anyone look at him like he is half a man, have Ellie look at him like she does not know who he is, have you, have you -

have you have you have where are you where are you where are you he wants to grab Maria’s hand where from its place on his mattress to ask her where are you but the doctor where is pressing something sharp into his where are shaking arm you. Hold him still, he says and Joel is powerless against the hands that find him. Useless old man who can no longer fight, no longer protect, and he is so disgusted with himself, so betrayed and overwhelmed by his body that he understands why you haven't been around because you must feel the same.

Disgusting, useless old man. Puckered with scars, beat up and burnt out and mutilated, and you have left you have gone and it clefts his heart in two, wet as the blood between your teeth as you chomp his chambers and arteries somewhere in Jackson, or worse, elsewhere entirely.

Somewhere else, somewhere else where he might never see you again. Something crawls down tendrils to scratch at his brain but he can’t pick at it enough before the burning and the pain and the panic fades again, the doctor’s needle working its magic.

Soft, easy breathing, your face turned to his, your hair tickling the crook of his arm. I love you. Every morning, your eyes so far away at first flutter and then sharp into his, barreling like no one ever had before i love you. A force he could never try to stop, a choice he never could make i love you the inevitability of the promise you made each other i love you, the soft of your hands on his cracked knuckles, the way his nose fits to your neck to breathe you in i love you.

                                                     I love you, be safe.

And through thick, rolling waves of fog, Joel begins to piece it together. He cannot remember what happened, where it came from. Who did it. But you were there. He remembers through dreams he cannot wake from, how you screamed and cried and begged and pleaded from the floor, your cheek pressed into the wood, blood leaking from your hairline. The rivulets of it running across your temple, your cheek, into your eye so it stained the white pink. Your eyes, so wide with terror. How bright, how red, how deep the blood had been. How pretty. The pool and glisten of it as it spread from him, your fingers scrabbling and slipping through it as you tried to reach for his hand. 

He remembers how hoarse you had been as you told them your name.

                                                 No. Not your name. 

Ellie, you’d said. Ellie. I’m who you’re looking for. The thrust of your forearm as you showed them the scarred and gnarled bite mark from the savages who had held you captive for the first years of the apocalypse. The chunk one of them had torn from you in a fit of fury. In low light, it looks little different to Ellie’s, and Joel thinks they must have no idea what the girl he took from the hospital looked like. 

                                 Because they took you instead.

They took you instead.

The shock of it is enough to reel Joel awake. Maria is sat at his bedside, keeping vigil over the man who looks so much like her runaway husband. She is the only one who sees him break this time, who witnesses the gaping, festering wound ripped open, the rot of the universe, the decay of his grief. The way he howls and gasps and cries and begs and pleads where is she i don’t know where are they i don’t know when are they coming back i don’t know i’m sorry joel i’m sorry i’m so sorry if i had known if we had known maria i’m sorry

He does not know how long they hold each other for. He does not know when Maria climbed onto the edge of his bed, does not know if there’s anything more that tethers him to this world than his sister-in-law's arms. 

When he wakes, he is cruelly alone and limitlessly hollow. The room is small and he can focus on nothing beyond that, beyond the press of the walls and how close it feels and the bloodied rags they are using to blot and clean his stump while it dribbles crimson. It’s still clotting, the doctor says, and Joel doesn’t care. He wants to bleed. He would rather die than stay here in this bed, knowing in his heart that you won't come home, won’t survive this. He won’t wait to see whether Tommy and Ellie make it back safely, because if he loses again, if he fails again, there will be nothing left. Empty shell of useless man.

He empties the thin contents of his stomach several times a day into a bowl they keep at his bedside. They pump him full of drugs and tell him eventually the pain will lessen and we’re already pleased with how you’re healing we’ll just keep you in here for a little longer even through he’s already been cooped up for weeks. He hasn’t been able to remember you for weeks. And it’s not his phantom limb, not his broken bones and torn skin he’s recoiling from.

Your screams as they dragged you from the floor, your own pain. Noises Joel had never heard you make before in all the years you’d been together, patrolled together, been at war together. Something awful and ragged and already broken leaving your throat as they hauled you out the door and up the stairs as Joel could only useless old man watch you be taken, watch you sacrifice useless yourself to save him, your family, Ellie and Tommy. Animalistic, strong, straining the tendons in your neck as you stretched to scream, your ankle flopping at a crooked angle, blood drip drip dripping and swiping along the floor, soaking into the wood and that’s all he can remember.

He couldn’t say anything to you, couldn’t help. Not even a last I love you. He had failed. Because he’d heard it in your scream - i love you i love you please stay alive please live just this last thing for me make it out get back to jackson back to ellie live long and be happy but don’t forget don’t forget don’t forget i love you don’t forget i was here and don’t forget nothing but this could drag me away i love you please be safe be alive - and he had forgotten. He had forgotten your promises in his blood and your cries, in your scar and your lie. You would not leave him. Not over a sawn off leg. But you would leave him so he and your girl would live, so he will. He will. He will push aside the maw of his heart and try to fill the space he knows he is wasting. The shift feels light and heavy in his chest. He doesn't know how to be happy in a world without you pulled tight to his chest every morning, but if it's what you ask, he will do it. He will live long and happy and he will sit at that gate every day to wait for you and Tommy and Ellie to come back. He will spend the rest of his life waiting and telling himself he is okay if that's what you want him to do. Don’t forget I love you. Don’t forget I was here.

Sat on the hospital bed, he opens the gape in his chest so it can begin to devour the universe again, to suck you back into his orbit, bring you back to him. He won’t forget again. And when he can, he will start his vigil. He will live long and happy and wait for you to come back, wait for you to smooth this pain to dullness, this ache, this tightness in his chest that makes it so hard to breathe. Wait for it to ease, to deaden. But for now, all he can do

                      is sit and wait 

                                                                 for the wound

                                                                                                                                       to clot.

[pacifymebby]

Hello can I request the peaky blinders x selective mute reader pls, do you think any of them would understand what's going on or are they completely in the dark? And how would you think they would react to hearing your voice for the first time?

Tommy

🌿 Is drawn in by it, thinks you're mysterious, presumes you're like him and that you're just above the meaningless conversations people fritter through at the Garrison or the markets... He thinks you must be deeper than all that.

🌿 So he's endeared to you, but he's projecting this image he has of you onto you, not necessarily seeing the real you at all. He has this view of some, cool and removed, sharp girl...

🌿 But then he tries to speak to you directly and he notices the way you don't look him in the eye, the way you look to your friend for help only to find your friend has unfortunately been stunned into silence by the presence of Tommy Shelby.

🌿When your friend pulls herself together and apologises, and apologises on your behalf too, Tommy doesn't take his eyes off you, because you still haven't looked at him and he knows youre not going to talk...

🌿 Would want to unravel the mystery, get close to you, know you better than anyone else... Hes always very gentle and charming. He's realised now that he might scare you and so he's more careful not wanting to frighten you, never stern or sharp with you the way he often is with others.

🌿 He's persistent as fuck. Often if he sees you in public he'll say hello, he'll talk to you about what he's doing and he'll try to find things to mention about you. He almost always says something complimentary about your appearance, leaves you blushing nine times out of ten.

🌿 Hes always so calm and polite around you, you actually end up seeing and getting to know a completely different Tommy than anyone else.

🌿 It takes a long time for him to win your trust and keep your confidence but as time goes by you begin looking forward to seeing him, secretly hoping he'll come and sit with you in the Garrison. And whenever he sees you he always does.

🌿 Something about Tommy is that he's quite happy to sit in silence, he likes his thinking time, his peace and quiet and he likes just sitting in silence with you, watching the world go by, watching you.

🌿 He feels so pleased when you finally say something but doesnt show how shocked or pleased he is, just smiles softly and replies to you as if you were anyone else... Because he doesnt want to make a fuss and embarrass you and he doesn't want to behave as if your behaviour is abnormal for fear you'll be too anxious to try and speak again.

🌿 Won't rescue you in conversation because he wants you to know you don't need rescuing, that youre capable of speaking up for yourself.

🌿 He gently encourages eye contact, always correcting your gaze when he talks to you. He often cups your cheek in his hand when he's having a conversation with you, its this reassuring contact which also allows him to keep pushing your gaze gently back to his.

🌿 "Look at me angel, thats better... You've got lovely eyes y/n, let me look at you eh?" he's so gentle with you, his voice becomes a reassuring sound and even if you're still quiet with him, you feel comfortable and slowly, slowly Tommy helps you to build your confidence.

🌿 He'll never cut you off. Ever. Every word that leaves your lips is precious to him and he will never interrupt you. He knows that if he does you'll lose your confidence and start second guessing yourself so he always listens to you, always encourages you to finish what you were saying when you trail off or start to get shy and nervous.

Alfie

🐻 Is endeared to you, but concerned for you too. This is a nasty bit of town you're living in and a girl who can't speak up for herself could wind up in all sorts of trouble.

🐻 The first time he meets you he says all that, he's gruff and grumpy and he doesn't realise until its too late that he's making things so much harder for himself.

🐻 Because you're scared of him then, every time you see him you try to slip away and thats very inconvenient because Alfie is actually quite fond of you, and he wants to look out for you.

🐻 He thinks you're adorable and he's sure you must be one of the sweetest girls he's ever met. He wants to hear your voice, get to know you...

🐻 So he has to change his tact, from then on he's a complete softie with you, he's gentle, he's calm and softly spoken, he doesnt grumble or snap and he tries to hard to be friendly, nothing but charming.

🐻 Luckily for Alfie he can do enough talking for the both of you and your silence is hardly noticeable. He will walk with you through Camden Market, or wherever you're going actually (he's impossible to shake because he wants everyone to see you with him so that no one will think of messing with you) and he'll talk and talk and well... Talk at you, telling you all sorts of stories.

🐻 It takes time you do eventually warm to him. You look forward to seeing him and you enjoy listening to him. You find him very funny and he makes you laugh a lot, even though whenever he does you try to hide it or hold it back. His favourite sound in the world is your little giggle muffled by your hands or your sleeves.

🐻 Sometimes he'll get carried away and realise when its already too late that the story he's telling you is actually probably quite scary, its probably intimidating you...so he'll apologise and cough a little awkwardly and try to change the subject to something softer...

🐻 And thats what makes you speak up, one day he coughs and tries to change the subject just when he was getting to the gory details of a story he's telling you about ghosts people say they've seen down Camden Lock. He tries to change the subject and start talking about something else when you cut him off.

🐻 "Wait don't!" you shock yourself and blush immediately regretting cutting him off, you feel all kinds of anxious, expecting him to be annoyed with you but he isn't. Instead he just chuckles and asks "Don't what poppet?"

🐻 You're not sure you can speak up again, losing your voice immediately but Alfie thinks he knows and he chuckles, "you want to know more about the ghosts?" he asks and when you nod he tries to tease you, "say please..." you panic feeling the tightness in your throat until he smiles and shakes his head and gives your hand a squeeze. "Don't worry zieskiet, don't worry I'm just kidding with you, I know... Very cruel of me want it, I'm sorry poppet..."

🐻 Alfie feels a fatherly protectiveness over you, he can tell that youre an intelligent girl, he can see you have so much potential. He wants you to be more confident, wants you to be able to stand up for yourself, speak for yourself. He's sure you have so many interesting things to say...

🐻 He'll kind of daddy you through it, lots of gentle encouragement but also being kind of firm with you too. He'll ask you questions, he'll be soft with you, but he'll wait for you to answer him. He'll be very encouraging.

🐻 He'll constantly reassure you that he wants to listen to you, that your opinions are valuable, that he'll hear you when you talk to him. "All those thoughts you've got floating around your pretty head y/n, the big ones and all the little ones too right, they're important and I wanna hear every last one yeah... You can tell me anything you like, whenever you like right and I, will always be hear to listen to you yeah, cause you're a smart girl, and everything you think and feel yeah, important... Got that?"

🐻 He'll practice conversations with you, like basic every day conversations. And he'll be so laidback about it too, he won't lie or over complicate thingd. "See right, when you go down the market and such and such whatever his name is, yknow the ugly fella with them big fuckin Cauliflower ears, when he asks how you are right... You don't have to actuually tell him the truth you know... You could just say 'fine thanks' or 'perfectly happy mr Cauliflower ears' or 'fuckin miserable leave me alone' you know... Alright zieskiet you practice on me yeah, you pretend I'm mr fuckin Cauliflower ears and you tell me what you wanna buy from my shit little market stall yeah? Well done poppet, see we're gettin there aren't we... "

🐻 Selfishly he has to admit he enjoys the way you'll only talk to him, the way you look to him so dependently. He loves the way you turn to him when youre lost in conversation, feeling scared or overwhelmed. And he'll never let you down. When you look at him with those wide eyes he will always help you, whether that's answering for you (he feeks so proud that you trust him enough to look to him to do this for you) or whether its giving your hand a squeeze and giving you the gentle encouragement you need to find your words again.

Arthur

🍂 Honestly? You make him nervous. Well, silence makes him nervous, not you personally, it's just that you're a very quiet lass and when he's left alone with you he feels under pressure to speak because you never do.

🍂He ends up saying really stupid things, stumbling over his words, getting frustrated with himself and blushing, he would seem shy if he didn't just come out with every thought that crosses his mind.

🍂 "Funny weather we're having ain't it, well you know, not funny, nah, no one finds fucking weather funny do they, you don't see people laughing at the sun do you, nah I meant like... fuck sake I don't know what I meant..." Him trailing off, you watching him curiously, he's quite endearing, not as intimidating as other people.

🍂 Seconds later he starts talking again, "so what brings you to this end of town love? You don't really look like the kind of girl who should be sitting outside my brothers office on her own... now I'm not being rude, I don't mean you look weird or you know.. I don't fuckin know, I'm not trying to be rude lass I promise, I'm just..."

🍂 His awkwardness makes you laugh, you giggle when he gets flustered and so your laugh is the first thing he hears. And he loves it. He laughs with you, awkwardly, but decides he wants to hear your laugh over and over again.

🍂 He thinks you're probably scared of him and his family, and he's not wrong exactly, its just that everyone intimidates you and no matter who you're socialising with its scary.

🍂 So he tries to put you at ease by being gentle, kind and soft. He tries not to swear in front of you but thats quite hard for Arthur since he's got the pottiest mouth in town and he's always getting annoyed and swearing.

🍂 He does a lot of "fuck... sorry love I mean... f.." opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish because he can't think of any other word that isn't a curse.

🍂 And you find this very funny so you do a lot of giggling and he does a lot of blushing and although things are very awkward between you you warm to him very quickly. He doesn't scare you as much as other people even though he should.

🍂 Maybe its his own nerves that put you at ease, the way you can tell that it isn't easy for him either. The fact that he's always embarrassing himself in front of you... it makes you feel like he isn't judging you.

🍂 Arthur understands you a little, even if he doesn't understand exactly what's going on with you. He thinks you're scared/ shy and doesn't necessarily understand that there's more than that going on. He too struggles to regulate his emotions and finds a lot of things about the world quite scary deep down so he empathises with your anxiety and he understands why you always look so scared and overwhelmed. Its how he would look if he was allowed to express himself, if he didn't have to put on the tough guy act all the time.

🍂 The first time you speak to him its because he's said something daft again and is cursing himself for being "such a stupid fuckin dinlow sometimes..." Whenever you hear him put himself down you always want to argue with him but you never build up the courage in time and the moment passes just as awkwardly as it always does. But today it just slips out. "You're not..." you barely say anything at all but those two words fill Arthur with so much joy he can't keep the smile and the blush from his cheeks. He's really proud that you've spoken to him, since you never speak to anyone else around these parts.

🍂 He kind of gets his hopes up then that you're going to do the talking but of course that isn't how this works. He's disappointed at first but you've given him hope with those two words and every conversation he has with you from then on he sees as another opportunity to hear your voice.

🍂 He wants to help you to speak and he tells you that in his own way, "its a shame for you ain't it, I'm not exactly fuckin... shit I'm sorry lass... and sorry about that too I spose, I meant, am not exactly very good at this either am I... conversation like, it ain't really my strong point.."

🍂 but you'd just smile, a warm smile, half a laugh. Enough for Arthur to understand you're enjoying his company, he isn't scaring you, he's making you happy. Which is actually all he wants to do.

John

🌼 John takes it personally, he's heard you talking to his Aunt Pol before, and you talk to Bonnie Gold! But never to him. He thinks it isn't fair and it wounds his ego because he can't understand why you don't like him.

🌼 He becomes convinced it's his fault, that there must be something he's done to upset you. Tries going over everything he's ever said to you but he knows he's only ever been friendly. So then he gets more frustrated and more wounded and he starts getting sulky.

🌼 Probably stops speaking to you, probably avoids you when he can and, when he can't he probably gives you all these sullen glances and sulky looks that make you feel all the more nervous around him.

🌼 In the end Bonnie starts picking on him about it, telling him not to glare at you the way he does. "Girls shy enough as it is and you're not helping are ye..." "That girl doesn't fuckin like me anyway does she..." Bonnie would laugh at him then, "fuckin dinlow."

🌼 When Bonnie explains that you're shy John has a hard time believing him, "if she's just shy..." "she's not just shy... dinlow, its more than that... if you want her to speak to you you have to win her trust... show her you're not gonna make her regret speaking to ye.... that means smile at her steada whatever that sulkings all about eh..."

🌼 John begrudgingly accepts and tries to follow Bonnie's advice but its difficult. He's used to lasses smiling and flirting with him, he's used to girls who take to his charm immediately, but you can hardly even look at him.

🌼 He's definitely the sort to think that giving you little gifts like the odd flower is going to "bribe" you into speaking to him, and whenever these gifts fail to do so he is always surprised (because he's stupid and doesn't learn) and a little disappointed but not deterred.

🌼 He will pester the living daylights out of anyone you do speak to to find out if you ever say anything about him and when Bonnie says "oh aye she asked about you the other day yeah mate..." "What? What did she say?" "Oh god i dont know let me think... I think she said somet like 'here bon, my best friend in the whole wide world, you know John Shelby don't you... Do you know why he won't leave me the fuck alone?"

🌼 John will just blink back at him stunned, realising hes joking when Bonnie splits a grin and starts laughing at him. "Nah she hasn't said anythin but thats probably a good thing..."

🌼 So poor John has to persist, trying not to let it get to him the way you shy away from him. Its as if you're so scared of him and all he wants to do is show you you've nothing to worry about with him.

🌼 He gets really protective over you, always jumping to your defense when someone complains about how quiet you are. If someone says "she makes me nervous..." You're sure to hear John grumble, "here, mate... I'll give you somet to be nervous about..."

🌼 Eventually all his protectiveness, his little gifts, the way he just doesn't seem to want to give up on you, chips away at your anxiety and leaves you feeling comfortable enough to say "thank you," when he gives you a flower, and to ask him what hes giving it to you for. "Pretty girls deserve pretty things I spose..."

🌼 Naturally that embarasses you making you blush and avert your gaze. John wouldn't know whether it was a good sign or not but he'd try his best to think positively. He'd smile and shove his hands in your pockets and say something like, "not much of a talker are you lass? S'alright i can do the talking for both of us..."

🌼 He'll rescue you in conversation, when someone asks you a question he'll answer for you if you look lost. He'll introduce you to new people and he'll make light of the way you can't speak so that its not awkward and no one thinks you're being rude.

🌼 When it occurs to him one day that you just said hello to him first he'll be stunned, he'll grin the biggest grin and probably pull you in for a shocker of a hug. He can't help it, he's really happy but also really proud of you too.

🌼 No one really understands how the two of you came to be so close since you're practically polar opposites but thats because no one else really sees John's gentler side. His carefulness which is reserved only for you.

🌼 He has that natural fatherly worrying instinct, he worries about how you'll cope when he's not there and whenever you're going out with Ada and the girls he gives them strict instructions to look out for you.

🌼 He probably worries that if something happens to you you will be too scared to shout for help so he gives you a whistle to wear around your neck on a little chain. He says if anything happens to you and you can't shout for help you're to blow the whistle.

,🌼 makes you practice because he knows you well enough to know that if it comes to it you probably won't blow the fucking whistle.

Bonnie

🍀 Thinks he might understand whats going on. He's perceptive, he has to be as a boxer and as a peaky boy. He's good at noticing things about his opponents in the ring, when theyre nervous, when theyre worn out... He's good at sensing fear too, he knows exactly how to read his enemies mind, find their weak spots without moving a muscle or saying a word.

🍀 So he notices things about you pretty quickly. He can tell by studying your expression when you're in a group, or when he tries to talk to you that you're scared and uncertain. The way you never look anyone in the eyes, the way you freeze up and try to shrink away into your clothes when someone says your name.

🍀 At first he thinks you're just shy, and to be honest he's not exactly used to shy girls. None of his sisters or any of the girls he grew up with are shy. Quite the opposite actually. So this is unfamiliar territory...

🍀 Even so, Bonnie is an optimistic lad at the very least, obnoxiously persistent in the eyes of those less forgiving. So he doesn't give up. He tries his very best to bring you out of your shell.

🍀 He makes a point of always smiling at you, always meeting your gaze even if only for a second, he speaks to you directly, always makes sure to say hello to you directly even when you're in a group. He doesnt push it further than that at first but over time, when you start to smile back, he starts asking you questions, and when you don't answer he starts answering the questions too, "hows your week been?... Ah well mines been alright can't complain you know... Got a fight coming up you know... Come see me if you like am gonna win in the fourth round..."

🍀 Maybe he's naive but he thinks he can probably trust you with his secrets... Who are you going to tell them to afterall.

🍀 When he feels close enough to you he'll probably make that joke and hope to god you laugh rather than hit him for it.

🍀 The longer this all goes on though the more Bonnie begins to wonder if you're really "just shy" or if its somethint else. Something deeper than that?

🍀 He's extremely patient though and he will rescue you in conversations when he sees you need it, he's actually very protective over you and it genuinely hurts his wee heart when he sees you looking scared and awkward, if he thinks you're struggling he'll swoop in to rescue you, sometimes without even thinking about what he's saying so that he embarrasses himself. But no bother eh, anything to take the pressure is off you.

🍀 The first time he hears you laughing its because he's a embarassed himself in front of the peaky boys. You'd usually feel far too uncomfortable to laugh at anything, choking back your laughter, clenching your fists and holding your breath to keep it inside. But Bonnie makes you feel safe, and you're always just a little more comfortable when hes around.

🍀 So when he says the stupidest thing you think you have ever heard, the giggle just tumbles out of you and doesn't stop. Everyone's looking at you in shock because you've only ever smirked at most in the past. When you realise everyones looking at you you go quiet again but your eyes find Bonnies and the warmth of his smile settles your anxieties and reassures you that everythings okay.

🍀 For as much as Bonnie will always rescue you in conversations and speak up when you can't, he can see how much pain you're in, how anxious you seem to be all the time and he'll want to help you. He wants you to be happy and confident enough to speak for yourself even when he isn't around.

🍀So he'll try his best when its just the two of you, not to rescue you when you lose your words. Instead he'll take your chin with his finger, tilt your gaze back up to his and hold eye contact with you saying something like "go on lovely, what were you going to say?"

🍀 He makes sure you can see he's listening to you. If you're in a group and you try to speak but no one hears you, Bonnie will make sure people hear you and don't forget about you. All these little things build your confidence slowly over time.

🍀 And when you are anxious his hand always manages to find yours giving you a reassuring squeeze. Bonnie is all about showing you he is there for you.

🍀You develop this kind of telepathy almost, a simple look is enough from either of you to make the other laugh or understand exactly what youre both thinking. He'll look to you and roll his eyes when his dad is talking and when you start laughing everyone will know its the two of you up to no good again.

🍀People say he brings out the worst in you, hes a bad influence, but he's the opposite actually and everyone can see how much happier you are when you're with him. His confidence and happy go lucky nature brings out a calmer less anxious side to you and you've never smiled more than when you're with him.

🍀 One of your things is not ever being able to address someone by their name so he kind of craves hearing u say his. And whenever you do he loves it!

Isaiah

🐀It drives him crazy because he knows you can talk. He knows you're just "choosing" not to talk when he's around. He's interjected in conversations in which you were talking to Ada before and literally watched the smile fall from your lips at the sight of him...

🐀So much like John his ego is wounded and he just gets frustrated trying to work out what he's done wrong. Why you don't like him.

🐀It wouldn't actually occur to him that you might be scared of him because he's with the Peaky Blinders. Ada has to point that out to him... But even when she does he just shrugs and says he doesn't understand. "I'm nice? I don't get it, I'm always fuckin nice!"

🐀He copes with his insecurity about you by teasing you, making little jokes about how you never speak. He calls you little mouse because you're so mousy and shy. Ada tells him off for this so many times but trying to laugh at the fact you won't talk to hin is the only way he can be less embarrassed about the fact that you don't like him.

🐀He will be too embarrassed about his insecurity to ask anyone for any real advice, he'll just keep going, making the jokes, knowing hes making things worse.

🐀Finally when he gets you alone one day, he'll get annoyed at the awkward silence between you and suddenly just let everything out confessing everything to you. "I know you don't like me very much sweetheart, know you probably wish I'd shut up and leave you the fuck alone right now eh but I just wanna know what I've done like... Always try me best to be fuckin nice to you don't I but I don't reckon I have been cause you don't seem to have warmed up to me much do you... "

🐀"Yknow I don't mean anythin by any of that stupid shite i say don't you mousy... Truth is i think you're a really sweet little lass, all i really wants well, i dont know... Just a little hello every now and then would do... Just want to feel like we're friends... "

🐀When you still cant respond and you flee he just has to accept it and take the L cause he deserved it for taking the mickey out of you for as long as he has done. Honestly it's going to take such a long time for him to win your trust now.

🐀He'd maybe even need to give you a little space, get used to the fact that you aren't going to speak, accept that you're going to be quiet and shy and that you probably won't even look at him.

🐀He has a lot of learning to do tbh, like he has to learn that your silence isn't a reflection of him, it doesn't mean you don't like him. He basically has to work on his own self confidence (and i mean his real deep internal self esteem not that cocky arrogant front he puts on in front of others) he has to really work on his own sense of self and then look to working on his relationship with you

🐀He goes from being your most frustrating tormenter to your most fierce protector. If he ever catches anyone making jokes about you he'll shoot them down, sarcastically laugh at them all "like she hasn't heard that before cunt..."

🐀I think it takes Isaiah the longest to hear you speak. And then when you finally do he gets shy and paranoid he's going to fuck it up, that hes going to do the wrong thing and you'll never want to speak to him again.

🐀All you said was hello, a simple hello in response to his, that was it. But he forgets how to speak, just looks at you blankly, manages to smile and just sort of repeats himself, says hello again and gets awkward. Which makes you awkward too. You smile but you shrink away because you really need him to lead a conversation.

🐀Pulls himself together in time to say its nice to see you. You kind of just have this awkward conversation where everything he says you repeat back and he has to stop himself from repeating again, you just go round in cirlcles until Ada cuts in and rescues you both.

🐀One day he asks if you can forgive him for having been such a stupid git to you in the beginning and hes so relieved when you nod your head and let him take your hand.

🐀Considering how scared you used to be of him and his stupid jokes you feel so close to him now. No ones ever put this much effort into getting to know you and trying to win your trust.

🐀"You've got a really lovely voice you know," he isn't used to saying "nice" things to people and meaning them, he's usually such an empty flirt, trying to charm lasses into a one night fling. But with you its different and you mean a lot to him.

🐀Still calls you mousy but its affectionate and it becomes this sign of your firm bond. Only he gets to tease you and call you that name, he's earnt the closeness you share and you know he means it affectionately.

🐀Rather than actively helping you to get better at speaking, his boisterous personality and relentless cocky attitude probably rubs off on you. Its hard not to feel a little more confident when you're on Isaiahs arm. He lets you wear his peaky cap sometimes in big groups, it shows everyone youre with him, and he sees it bring out your confidence.

Michael

☘️ I think Michael was shy as a little boy, at least more so than all of his cousins, and then when he was taken from his mother probably even more so.

☘️He probably didn't talk much when he was given to his new family. Even as he got older he probably wasn't the most self assured young lad. In school he probably tried to fit in and did a little, but wasn't particularly loud or popular.

☘️ So when he meets you he recognises that uncertainty in your eyes and understands your social anxieties.

☘️ He wants to give you a hug and tell you it'll be alright, that even if things feel overwhelming for you now, if things feel scary and you feel like you're not capable of doing anything right, or that you don't feel like you fit in... It won't always be like this and if you give it time you'll find your place just like he did.

☘️But this is Michael we're talking about, he bottles all that shit up. Doesn't say a word to you, just watches you and feels that familiar uncertainty curdling inside him. All these things he wants to say and he can't bring himself to say it. He gets anxious because what if he's got you all wrong what if its not like that for you at all.

☘️ In the end its Polly who tells him he should try to get to know you, "you were like her once you know... She could do with a good lad like you to show her a little kindness... Its a cruel world Michael, if you don't nobody else will..."

☘️ So then he feels guilty too. Has to swallow his anxiety whenever you're around. It takes all his will to make himself sit down next to you, to say hello, to keep trying even when you only offer him the smallest of smiles in response.

☘️ But he's a mothers boy isn't he, so what Pol wants Pol gets and she wants him to try so he bloody well tries. And besides, he feels a connection with you, he's felt one from the very first time he saw you in the Garrison with his cousin Ada. He doesnt know whether you feel it to, in fact he knows you probably dont. He feels close to you because he thinks he knows how you feel.

☘️Eventually he gets up the courage to talk to you properly. He finds the whole thing absolutely painful and mortifying, trying to tell you how he used to be like you, so he thinks he understands.

☘️ You can sense how hard he's trying though and that means a lot to you, and you're honestly surprised too because for as much as he's reserved around you, you've seen him with other people, you've seen him charming the girls at the Garrison and you know the reputation he has is as bad as his cousins. So you're surprised when he tells you about his childhood shyness and how it took him a long time to feel accepted anywhere.

☘️ Its encouraging, the way he talks about it too, like its this thing that used to be a huge problem in his life but isn't anymore. You find it reassuring to know that you might not feel this way forever. That one day you too might feel accepted and comfortable enough to talk freely and take up space.

☘️ You don't realise, though you should, that its Michael and his family that are going to make you feel that way. That it will be him that treats you with the warmth and patience that you need to make you feel at home.

☘️ You pluck up the courage to say something to him a few days later, youve wanted to say something to him since he spoke so empathetically and gently to you, its been all you could think of, how to say it, when you'll say it, if he'll even know what you're doing talking about because its been awhile now and he's probably forgotten he even said anything to you at all ect ect... Youre riddled with the anxiety of saying something to him and the more you think about it the worse it gets.

☘️ But you do manage it, even if all you actually say is, "Thank you... For..." when you trail off you expect him to cut you off but he doesn't, he just smiles softly and watches you carefully, trying to work out if you are going to finish your sentence or not. When you stammer and cut yourself off again he puts his hand on your shoulder and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

☘️ "s'alright love, i understand, come on come sit, just me and you, try again in a minute eh?"

☘️ At first the way things develop between you its like he's a big brother to you, he takes you under his wing, protects and guides you as though making up for the sister he lost.

☘️ He spends a lot of his time with you, and whenever he sees you around he makes time to talk to you, or not talk to you depending on how he feels like you're feeling.

☘️ You have this unspoken connection, sometimes all it takes is a look from you and he knows exactly what you're thinking/feeling.

☘️The more you spend your time with him the more able to talk you are and he's so pleased and proud that you look to him in the way that you do, that he is one of the only people in the city who gets the blessing of hearing your voice, getting to know you intimately through conversation.

☘️He's especially pleased to know things about you that Tommy doesn't, that you trust him and nobody else. That without him you'd be lost.

☘️ Gets jealous if you do start speaking to someone else and has to remind himself that actually this is what he wants. For you to grow and become your authentic self not hiding or fearing being too much.

☘️ So despite his fear that once you can talk to other people you'll not need him and you'll stop wanting to speak to him, he encourages you and reassures you, tells you he's proud of you.

☘️ But of course his fears are unnecessary, you'll always look to him for comfort, company and reassurance, he'll always be the person who saw you for who you really are first. He'll always be the one who believed in you and took his time with you. And he's your best friend. And maybe you secretly want hin to be more than that.