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wildernessuntothemselves · 22 hours ago

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Soulmate(s) | Part 2

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: In a world where you get the name of your soulmate tattooed on your skin the night you turn 21, there should be no reason to even think about fucking around with anyone else. Why would you when you know that the perfect person who is made just for you is somewhere out there waiting for you to find them?

So how the hell did you end up messing around with your two best friends and what are you going to do if neither of them ends up being your soulmate or worse, what if one of them is your soulmate?

Warnings: fem!reader, soulmates au, this is not a light fic, there will be backstabbing and manipulation, sub!soobin, dom!gyu, switch/gyu, handjob, cunnilingus, blowjob, tit-fucking, cumming all over oc lol

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Beomgyu and Soobin have been trying to convince you to hook up with them again since you’ve last done it, something you’ve been very hesitant to do. You’d only really meant to kiss Soobin. You didn’t mean for Beomgyu to get involved or for things to go this far, but it seems you’ve opened Pandora's box now as the two boys have only become bolder and more insatiable since then–begging and pleading you to join them every time you were alone together.

Yes, join them, as they clearly have not been waiting for your permission to continue their forbidden rendezvous, and they’re making sure you know. Like right now, you were supposed to have your regular movie night together but none of you were paying any attention to the movie. The two boys are loudly kissing on the couch as Beomgyu’s hand moves under Soobin’s pants– the wet sounds of their kissing and their heavy moans and grunts would make it impossible to hear the movie if you were even trying to.

But you’re not, and you can’t pretend you are. They can clearly see the stern frown you’re throwing at them, but they don’t care, Beomgyu’s face buried in the older boy’s neck as he jerks him off in his pants.

Soobin whines your name out, the plea clear in his voice, and it would make you wet if you weren’t already soaked. “Come here, please. I want to kiss you.”

Ugh, the siren call. It was one thing for Beomgyu to beckon you towards this sin with his smirking face and cocky attitude, but it’s another thing entirely for your good little Soobin to so sweetly, so cunningly, try to break your inhibitions. No, he’s not sweet or innocent. He knows what he’s doing and it’s fucking working.

Beomgyu lifts his head from Soobin’s wet neck to level you with his heavy gaze as he pulls Soobin’s cock out of his pants. “Come on, baby, look how much he needs you.”

You can’t help but rub your thighs together. Damn them. Damn them to hell.

“It doesn’t look like he needs me. Looks like you’re taking care of him all right on your own.” You impress yourself by being able to speak through your completely parched throat.

“Yeah, but I’m sure he’d like it extra hard if your pretty mouth was on his cock.” At this, he twists his hand around Soobin’s head and the older boy cries out. “Yes, please, please, want it.”

“Shut up.” You curse him under your breath as your hand finally moves between your legs to soothe the burning need there. You’ve watched them do this way too many times now. It burned you with both need and jealousy because, damn it, you want to be with them too but it’s wrong! You can’t do this. You need to stop it and remain loyal to your destined soulmate.

But like a vulture, Beomgyu jumps at the first sign of weakness from you. “Oh, baby, don’t be like that.” He tugs on your arm, pulling it away from your pussy, making you almost growl at him. How dare he?! Hasn’t he tortured you enough?

But you don’t get the chance to chew him out because he pulls you onto his lap, your back facing his front and his very hard cock pressing against your lower back, his large warm hands on your inner thighs and the precum from Soobin’s dick sticking to your skin.

“Let us take care of you.” He purrs in your ears, his hands massaging your sensitive thighs, so close yet so far from where you need him the most. You try to close your legs but he doesn’t let you, and you can’t fucking think with his hot breath on your skin. “Let us make it stop hurting.”

“Fucking asshole.”

He laughs at your response, one of his hands getting impossibly close to your pussy. “Is that a yes?”

“Just get it over with.”

Now you know Beomgyu would’ve liked a more enthusiastic response than that but you also know that he’ll take what he can get, and after weeks of begging and whoring around, he finally gets to touch you, his long fingers pressing over your covered slit.

“Fuck. You’re so wet.” He moans, greedily pushing your shorts to the side so he can fully feel how wet you really are, his fingers easily gliding over your wet lips, and you keen, your back arching at the sudden intense stimulation.

“I hate you.” You still put up your act, but Beomgyu doesn’t care, just focusing on breaking you down on his fingers. And break you do, gushing out even more slick as he alternates between rubbing your clit and sliding his fingers up and down your pussy.

You almost forget that you’re not the only two people there for a second, too lost in the intense pleasure, until Soobin whines and you see him moving out of the periphery of your vision to take center stage on the floor in front of you.

“Can I try it now, Beommie?” The older boy’s hands sear your skin as he pushes your thighs further apart and presses his face right between them. You shriek, reflexively attempting to close your legs once again at the embarrassing and exposed position you’ve found yourself in but you stand no chance against the two boys splaying you open for their pleasure.

“You’re scaring her, idiot.” Beomgyu snaps at Soobin but you can see that the older boy is only half listening, too focused on the way Beomgyu’s fingers continue to play with your pussy. “Should’ve waited a bit.”

“But I can’t wait any longer!” Soobin whines and you crane your head to try to catch Beomgyu’s eyes. “Wait for what? What are you two shits planning?”

Beomgyu uses the opportunity of you turning your head towards him to steal a quick kiss from your lips. “Binnie just wanted a taste. He’s been talking about it nonstop. Will you let him have a little taste?”

Your eyes widen. “You’ve both lost your minds. You really think I’ll let him do that? You’re both perverts!”

Soobin starts loudly whining, attempting to plead his case, attempting to convince you that he–the man with his dick out at your feet and begging to eat you out–is not a pervert. But Beomgyu snaps at him, shutting him up.

“Forget it. You ruined it. She doesn’t want it.” He hisses at the older boy who amazingly cowers back and shuts up. “Here, this is enough for you.” He takes his hand off your pussy and pushes the wet fingers against Soobin’s pillowy lips. You gasp as the other boy immediately opens up to suck them in, moaning out obscenely as if it’s the tastiest sweet he’s ever had.

“Beomgyu!” You cry out, pulling his hand away from Soobin and making them both protest.

“Why?!”

“Come on, let him have this.”

“You’re both disgusting.”

“What’s disgusting about wanting to taste our lover?” Beomgyu asks, and you shiver at the word–lover. Are you lovers? Why does that word make your heart flutter so much? “You must’ve seen the educational tapes. This is a perfectly normal part of pleasuring your mate, just like if you were to suck his cock.”

“Oh, I would not do that. No way.” Your face flushes heatedly as you vehemently deny you’d do such a dirty thing. “It wouldn’t even fit…”

You know cunnilingus is a normal sex act but it feels too intimate to share with someone who isn’t your soulmate–with your two fucking best friends.

“Now you’re just being a tease.” Beomgyu growls, eyes darkening at your choice of words.

“Please,” Soobin inches closer to you again, his big bunny eyes staring up at you as his plush lips stop centimeters away from your needy pussy, so deprived that even his breath makes you shiver.

You’ve already done so much together. Would it really be so bad to let him do this? He seems to really want it, and you can’t deny the fact that you want it too. They’ve both teased you way too much already. Why are you teasing yourself?

“Okay.”

“Oh, than–” You can’t even hear the rest of his appreciation as it gets smushed against your lower lips.

“Fuck.” You curse lowly, feeling a strange mixture of awkwardness and pleasure as Soobin finds his way around your pussy–first very clumsily but slowly getting more deliberate, guided by the boy behind you.

“Slow down.” He tells him when Soobin gets too rowdy, “Flatten your tongue out. Focus here.” He instructs as if he’s done this before and somehow it’s working. You’re slowly but surely feeling your high build up.

“How the fuck do you know so much?” You grit out, asking Beomgyu.

“I watch the videos a lot.” He admits easily, referring again to the education videos all of you are provided when you get closer to your 21st birthday so you’d know what to expect when you finally meet your lover. “Wanna make sure my soulmate will be thanking their lucky stars they ended up with me.”

You roll your eyes. Yeah, right. The pervert probably is just using them to get off every night if what you’ve witnessed of his libido these past few weeks is any indication. “I don’t remember the educational videos containing such filth. Are you sure you haven’t been watching those soulmateless degenerates instead?” You accuse, referring to the taboo tapes sold secretly by some of those who have either never gotten a soulmate or have lost them in one way or another.

In a society such as your own, where almost everyone has a second half, those without their fated partners end up being shunned. They simply freak people out. After all, why don’t they have someone? What is so wrong with them that the universe has chosen to curse them to a life where they’ll never know the touch of true love?

Even still, not all of them start out totally isolated. After all, they were once just like all of you with loving families and supportive friends before their terrible fates were revealed on the very day that was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives–expecting to be given eternal love and instead finding themselves with a gaping hole in their hearts that is only fated to grow bigger and bigger every passing day.

Their loved ones may try to cheer them up. They may try to convince them that they could still lead a normal life. They try to pretend that nothing has changed, but everything has changed. Their lives could never be the same after that. They know it and everyone around them knows it too. They would never be in love. They would never marry and have a family. They would never know what it’s like to finally feel whole. And it slowly gets to them. The older they grow, the bigger the gap in their heart grows and they begin to resent those around them. They begin to begrudge those who have what they never will. They turn angry and bitter and they start lashing out at the very people who tried to help them.

They start to seek out the passion that is missing from their lives in other places. Some turn to drugs, some turn to sex and some take on dangerous and risky jobs just to feel alive. They may even come to gain some respect and prominence in society depending on how they choose to chase those thrills. But it would never be enough. They would always have to do more and more to get even a fraction of the natural bliss that comes from finding your soulmate and knowing you’re finally home, and they start losing themselves bit by bit, chasing even riskier and riskier highs until they burn out.

You shudder at the thought. That is your worst fear. To be left abandoned by the universe.

You’re thankfully torn out of your gloomy thoughts when Beomgyu unceremoniously pulls your shirt up over your chest to expose your breasts which he cups in his hands and expertly kneads, massaging the soft flesh and pulling at your pebbled nipples.

Instantly, pleasure floods your brain and drowns out the scary thoughts until all you can think of is how strong and solid he feels against you, how his long sure fingers touch you so well, and how sexy his deep voice sounds in your ear as he continues to instruct Soobin on what to do.

“Fuck.” You cry, arching into his touch, throwing your legs wider apart and inadvertently pushing your pussy against Soobin’s face, his nose brushing against your clit and causing a spasm to go through your body. “I’m close. Don’t stop.”

Through blurry eyes you see Beomgyu grab Soobin’s hair and push him even further against your pussy, rubbing his face against you as the older boy excitedly lets his tongue flick between your lower lips, filling the room with an obscene wet noise that rises even louder than the ringing in your ears.

“Soobinnie, fuck!” You groan and Beomgyu nips at your neck, lightly grazing the skin of your neck with his teeth, careful not to mark you, and pinches your nipples between his fingers, pulling your orgasm right out of you.

“Yes, yes, I’m cumming!” You scream out, your orgasm ripping through your body as both boys ruthlessly continue playing with you, not letting up until you start tearing up. “Enough, enough, too much.”

Beomgyu is the first to stop. It takes him pushing Soobin away for the other boy to stop too–whether not caring or not hearing, you don’t know, but when he is detached from your pussy, you see how his entire lower face is now covered in your slick–his pretty lips even bigger and puffier from the activity.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath and Beomgyu laughs.

“He's so good, isn't he baby? Those dirty lips were made just for this.” He pulls Soobin's head back to run his thumb over his wet lips. “He’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy, huh?”

Beomgyu's the one who’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy. Though Soobin has done most of the work, it’s Beomgyu's constant filth in your ears that worked you up so much. It’s like he can get you both to do anything and it scares you.

What if you end up cursed because you’ve gotten greedy and chose to seek out the pleasure and intimacy that is supposed to only come from your soulmate from someone else?

“This is so wrong.” You slur and Soobin frowns, pulling your leg down so he can place your foot over his hard cock, blissfully oblivious to the turmoil happening inside your brain. “It would still be wrong after you get us off.”

You glare at him as Beomgyu bursts out laughing behind you. “Fucker.”

“He’s right, baby. It’s unfair to say this after we’ve already gotten you off.” He grinds his cock against your ass and you hate how that still makes you burn. “I said it from the start, asshole.”

“Well then it won’t make a difference if you get us off too.”

He slips out from under you to stand up in front of you, pushing his shorts down and shamelessly giving his hard cock a few pumps right in front of your face. “Look how hard you got me with your pretty little moans.”

“You're disgusting.” You scoff but Soobin also rushes to his feet, his own cock already out ages ago.

“Me too. Wanna feel your touch too. Beommie is too mean. He always teases too much.”

At the mention of their previous hookups you get jealous again. They have done so much without you it’s not fair. What if one of them is your soulmate and you’re missing out on all your first experiences together because you won’t join them. You know you like them both, and you know they like you too. Soulmates can feel a connection even before the names are revealed so it’s not unlikely that one of them is destined for you.

At least that is how you justify to yourself the jealous drive that prompts you to reach out to grab their cocks, one in each hand, jerking them off slowly but firmly.

“Fuck yeah.” Beomgyu groans, throwing his head back slightly in pleasure but keeping his eyes on you

“Your hands are so small.” Soobin marvels and Beomgyu adds, “And so soft.”

You blush, feeling shy under their intense gazes. You try to fix your clothes to cover yourself up but they immediately protest.

“No, why? You look so sexy.” Soobin cries, grabbing your hand and putting it back on his cock.

“Come on, it will get us off much faster seeing your pretty tits out like this.” Beomgyu spews filthily, and you glare up at him, but he just smirks. “Fuck, you’re even sexy when you’re angry. Wonder how much better you’ll look with your face covered in my cum and your tits covered in Soobin’s.”

The older boy squeaks at that, pushing his hips forward so the head of his long cock brushes against your nipple, smearing a light sheen of precum over it.

“Soobin!” You gasp, glaring at him, but Beomgyu cups your face and turns it towards him. “Come on, baby, let him have his fun. He’s been so good to you, hasn’t he? Eaten out that pretty little pussy so well, yeah?” He drawls out, his thumb brushing over your lips.

You get so pulled in by his heated gaze that you let Soobin do what he wants, rubbing his cock again and again across your tits while Beomgyu pushes his thumb into your mouth.

“Good girl. You wanna be such a good girl for us, don’t you?” He purrs, completely enchanting you somehow. He uses his thumb in your mouth and his grip on your face to make you nod and you let him. How is he so good at this? And why are you letting him?

“Wanna try your mouth.” He pleads, taking his thumb out of your mouth and gliding the head of his cock over your lips instead. You feel the wetness smear over them and your tongue instinctively peaks out to clean it up, in the process coming into contact with Beomgyu’s cock and making him gasp out in need. “Please.”

If you had planned to refuse him before, you couldn’t after seeing how weak and desperate just that little touch made him. You’ve been fantasizing about seeing him break again since that last time. He just looks so pretty when he loses it.

“Just the tip.” You say and he curses. “Fuck, okay, baby, anything. Need it so bad.”

And he pushes in. Just the tip as promised, but you feel like even that fills up your mouth. You wrap your lips around his head and press your tongue against the slit to lap up his precum like a lollipop. It immediately drives him mad and he throws his head back and cries out like a desperate slut. It makes you want to push him more and more so you intensify your efforts, hollowing out your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the head, watching his whole body shake as you suck and lap at the head of his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it.”

“Hey, no fair, we promised to share her.” Soobin’s whine jolts you out of the spell Beomgyu cast on you and your turn your head towards him to see him try to push his cock towards your mouth too.

You take your mouth off Beomgyu, making him growl and snap at Soobin. “What the fuck, man? I was so close!”

“Beomgyu, play nice.” You scold him, secretly loving the fact that they’re fighting for your attention. Those two have made your life a hot hell for the last few weeks with their little lewd shows. They made you horny and jealous and frustrated and you love giving them just a little bit of that energy back. And secretly you’re happy and relieved that they want you too–that they have not just found each other and abandoned you–that you still have a chance with one of them.

“Binnie, I thought you wanted to fuck my tits.” You purr, repeating Beomgyu’s choice of words and making the tall boy shudder and his eyes grow heavy. Those boys really are suckers for dirty talk, huh?

“Yeah but Beomgyu–”

“No buts.” You tighten your hand around his cock and pull him forward, pressing his cock flush against the middle of your chest and shutting him up. “Press my tits together so you can fuck them nice and hard. Don’t want you to stop until they’re covered in your cum.”

Soobin sucks in a sharp breath and rushes to do as you ordered, grabbing your breasts in his big hands and pressing them together before going off at a rough choppy pace.

You feel a harsh tug at your hair as Beomgyu turns your head back towards him, your eyes meeting his narrowed ones, but as you open your mouth to chastise him for his roughness, he pushes his cock back in your mouth.

You attempt to say something but with his incessant grip at the back of your head and his sloppy thrusts into your mouth, all that comes out is a wet garbled mess. Soon, you give up, just letting your two best friends use your body to get off, their tall frames looming over you and their filthy gazes eating you up as one fucks your mouth and the other fucks your tits.

You feel so dirty yet so hot, and in that moment you understand the urge that drives those without soulmates to seek such lurid pleasures. If they end up together and you end up alone, you can see yourself falling victim to these desires. You just love them both so much, it scares you. You want them to be yours, and that terrifies you. Only one of them could be your soulmate. Neither of them could be your soulmate…

“Ah, I’m so close.” You hear Soobin whine. You try to look at him but Beomgyu doesn’t let you. Instead you see him reach out of the corner of your eyes to wrap his hand around Soobin’s cock and jerk him off fast, quickly pushing him over the edge.

You can’t see it but you know he has cum when you hear the breathy shouts of your and Beomgyu’s names and feel his hot cum splattering across your chest. You whine around Beomgyu’s cock and start resisting the way he’s moving you over his cock as you feel your jaw becoming sore and your lips getting bruised.

He sighs, letting you pull away a little bit, drool following behind his swollen length out of your mouth and down your chin and his hand as he grabs his cock it with the same hand he used to jerk Soobin off so he can now pump his own cock inches away from your face. “Ready for it, baby?”

Your mouth is so numb you can only muster out a little whimper that makes Beomgyu curse under his breath and his grip falter over his cock as he loses it, his cum shooting out in thick, white ropes over your face. You instinctively close your eyes, wincing as the warm sticky substance lands on your face.

“No, look at me.” Beomgyu growls, tugging at your hair, the sting making your eyelids crack open slightly to lock eyes with Beomgyu and witness the last of his orgasm. “Good girl. Such a good girl.”

“Fuck, that is so hot.” You hear Soobin mutter and the unmistakable wet sound of his hand moving over his spent cock as he watches Beomgyu treat you like a fucktoy.

You feel so filthy–sitting there with your shirt pulled up and your shorts pushed to the side, exposed and absolutely covered in both their cums while they stare at you as if they’re not even close to having their fill.

And you’re not either. God help you but you know that this is just the start. You’ve been pulled in and now you don’t think you can resist them anymore.

This is bad. This is so bad and you know it won’t end well.

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A/N: second chapter here, still not much plot but it will come I swear lol. the fics I have rn are so different, one only plot so far and one only smut. anyway let me know how we're feeling

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #soobin smut #ask and you shall receive #my writings

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noodle-is-unstable · 2 days ago

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If you saw my previous post, no you didn't ☠️

Hello, hi, me again (you can never escape me)

So I just got out of my therapist appointment and that's why I'm back. Upon reflection completely going ghost is just an attempt at forced dissociation

Let me explain

I live in a constant state of guilt when I'm not actively doing things for other people (is there people pleasers anonymous, because I need it). Whenever I come online and I don't post a SMAU or other content there's a large amount of anxiety and guilt because I feel selfish I'm not doing things for others. If I'm not doing things for others I feel like I have no worth. While logically I know that isn't the case it doesn't stop the chest locking anxiety I feel

By completely logging off I was trying to avoid the guilt of being active while not making content. It was my way of avoiding the discomfort of "letting people down". Rather than acknowledging these feelings and even attempting to work to better them, I tried to run and hide from them

I attempted to sweep my problems under the rug and pretend they weren't still there. But they were

So hi. Um hello. This is me attempting to listen to my therapist and work on allowing myself to not feel guilty for not devoting my life/time to other people

I'm sure all of the back and forth is annoying but hey, you knew I was bipolar when you came here. Welcome to the flip flop lol

Anyways I'm attempting to still be present here while attempting to not feel guilty that I'm not making content

I am horrifically filled with anxiety right now and have been having anxiety attacks for the last 5 days. Noodle is fragile right now. Please handle with care

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daryltwdixon · 7 hours ago

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Joel Miller x Reader Just Coffee II

part two to this fic

Summary: Joel picks you up after a long day, taking you somewhere small and familiar, where conversation flows as easily as the wine. As the night winds down and Joel insists on driving you home, neither of you are ready to say goodbye quite yet.

warnings: some plot mostly smut 18+ MDNI

notes: this fic takes place in fantasy land where pinv doesn't end up in pregnancy ok thank you have a nice day. wrap it up in real life ok? im obsessed with this pre-outbreak Joel. I feel like I read & edited this til my eyes were bleeding, please lmk if you find mistakes

The evening rush had just died down when Joel walked through the door of the coffee shop, his presence filling the small space. His presence felt easier, more relaxed now that he’d gotten used to coming around more.

You glanced up from wiping down the counters, already feeling the exhaustion from a long shift settling into your bones.

“I thought we were meetin’ later?” you asked, arching a brow as you tossed the rag over your shoulder.

Joel leaned his hip against the counter, arms crossed, his hazel eyes flicking over you—messy apron, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly frizzed from the long day.

“Figured I’d pick you up,” he said, ever casual. “Walk you out.”

You let out a small groan, rubbing your hands over your face. “God, I smell like coffee and milk and—” you sniffed your sleeve dramatically, “—probably cleaning supplies. Real cute first date material.”

Joel smirked, one hand rubbing along his jaw. “Well, I smell like sweat and sawdust, so maybe it’ll cancel out.”

You snorted. “If you say so,”

He shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to suffer through it together.”

That made you smile, warmth creeping up your neck despite yourself.

“Don’t worry,” he added, his voice dipping a little softer. “Second date, I’ll take you somewhere fancy. But tonight, I got somewhere I think you’ll like,”

You swallowed, your heart giving a little unexpected flutter. A second date. Meaning he had plans on seeing you way more than just for one night. And damn did you like the sound of that.

“Fine,” you sighed, pretending to be more put out than you actually were as you untied your apron. “But if I smell like an espresso machine all night, that’s on you,.”

Joel just chuckled, stepping back to let you close up.

You expected him to take you to some hole-in-the-wall diner or maybe just grab a quick bite somewhere. But instead, he walked with you down the quieter streets of the small downtown, until he stopped next to a small, tucked-away Italian restaurant with a hand-painted sign and a cozy glow spilling from the windows.

It wasn’t flashy, wasn’t trying too hard—it was the kind of place people probably came to for years, passing it down like a family secret.

“You ever been here?” he asked as he held the door open.

You shook your head. “Didn’t even know it existed.”

The second you stepped inside, warmth wrapped around you—the scent of garlic and tomatoes simmering low, fresh bread baking, the low hum of conversation filling the intimate space. String lights hung loosely across the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow over the rustic wooden tables. A candle flickered at every one, pooling small halos of light between plates of pasta and glasses of deep red wine.

“You eat here a lot?” you asked him as he stepped in behind you.

Joel shook his head. “Did some work on the building a few years back. Owners fed me a few times.” He shrugged, like it was nothing. “Keep comin’ back when I can.”

As if on cue, an older man in a white apron emerged from the kitchen, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw Joel. He walked straight up to him, clapping him on the shoulder with a familiarity that made your brows lift.

“Miller!” the man greeted, grinning wide. He rattled something off in rapid, affectionate Italian, gesturing around the restaurant. Joel huffed out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“Good to see you too, Sal,” Joel said.

Sal patted his shoulder again, his thick fingers pressing into the fabric of Joel’s shirt like he was testing its strength. "Still workin’ with that stronzo fratellino, eh?"

Joel chuckled. “You bet.”

Sal scoffed, shaking his head. “Tsk. He was never as good with his hands as you.” He turned to you with a wink. “My best man here, best muratore in town! Fixed this place up when the siding was fallin’ off my dannata walls! Quick, clean—like an artista, eh?”

Sal laughed when Joel only shook his head, a red flush creeping up his face as he looked at you apologetically.

"Sit, sit! Please, eat whatever you like! I get you wine—" Sal finally let go of Joel, waving over the hostess with an urgency like he was hosting royalty.

“You’re quite the celebrity, Joel,” you teased, glancing up at him as the two of you followed behind to your table.

Joel sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I promise I didn’t bring you here for that—the food’s just real good,”

“Uh-huh,” you smirked, amused, as the hostess stopped at a cozy table by the window.

Sal came back over with a bottle of wine, winking at you before heading back toward the kitchen. “Enjoy dinner, eh?”

You watched him go, then turned back to Joel, arching a brow. “So, you’re with your hands, huh?” remembering what the man said a few minutes ago.

Joel sighed, shaking his head as he picked up the menu, hiding his face. “Don’t start.”

You bit your lip, amused, and looked down at your own menu.

The dinner itself was nice.

The kind of nice that snuck up on you, unfolding in a way that felt natural, easy, like you’d done this a dozen times before.

Joel was quiet, soft spoken, but asked a lot of questions. Not just the polite kind, but ones with weight, ones that made you pause before answering.

He wanted to know how you got into coffee—if it was something you always loved, or if it just happened. What made you decide to open your own shop instead of working somewhere else. If you liked being your own boss, if it was worth the stress.

And he listened, really listened, nodding as you spoke, his hazel eyes steady on you. Every now and then, he’d ask something that made you stop and think, something no one had ever really asked before.

“You ever picture yourself doin’ anything else?” he asked at one point, twirling the stem of his wine glass between two fingers.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I guess I never thought about it. The shop is mine. My whole world’s kind of wrapped up in it.”

Joel hummed, watching you carefully. “But it makes you happy.” It wasn’t quite a question, but more an observation.

“Yeah, yeah it does.” you answered with a smile, then tilted your head. “What about you? Do you like what you do?”

Joel exhaled through his nose, thinking. “Don’t know if anyone likes workin’,” he admitted, then nodded a thanks to the waiter as he set down your meals. “But can’t think of anythin’ else I’d be doin’. Ain’t the type to be sittin’ in a stuffy cubicle and all.”

You smirked, picking up your fork. “Oh, I don’t know… I think you’d look real nice in a suit and tie.”

Joel let out a quiet huff, shaking his head as he cut into his food. “Yeah? And what, you see me sittin’ at some fancy desk, makin’ phone calls all day?”

“I dunno,” you teased, shrugging. “Something about you in a tie just works for me.”

Joel shot you a look, amused, before taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe I’ll show up to your shop one day in one, just to surprise ya,”

“Oh, that’ll be the day,” you giggle.

The rest of dinner went by too quickly for your liking.

Joel told you about the different jobs he’d done over the years—how he liked working with his hands, how there was something satisfying about building something solid, something that would last. There was a quiet kind of pride in his voice, nothing boastful, just a man who knew the value of hard work, of making something real.

In return, you traded stories about your most memorable customers—the regulars, the weird orders like the ones who asked for 50 different flavors in one iced coffee. Joel countered with tales of difficult clients, stubborn contractors, and one particularly bad job where a homeowner swore they knew more about construction than he did.

And when Joel chuckled at a particularly funny story, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, you began to realize—God, you liked seeing him like this. Relaxed. Comfortable. Like maybe, just maybe, he liked being here with you, too.

And before you knew it, the waiter was coming by with the check, and the night was ending far sooner than you wanted.

The evening air was warm as you stepped out of the restaurant, your cheeks still flushed from the wine and the lingering glow of good company. Sal had insisted on treating you both with large helpings of his homemade tiramisu—claiming you couldn’t leave until you were properly fed.

Joel had muttered something about not needing dessert, but you’d watched him polish off his plate without complaint.

Outside, the street was quiet, the glow from the restaurant spilling out onto the sidewalk as the door swung shut behind you.

“That man is dangerous,” you groaned, placing a hand over your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”

Joel huffed out a small laugh, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Could’ve said no.”

You scoffed. “And risk offending him? No way. I’d be blacklisted for life.”

Joel smirked, shaking his head before glancing around. “Where’s your car?”

You blinked up at him. “Oh, I walked.”

Joel’s brows pulled together. “You walk to work?”

“I live close by,” you shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.

Joel exhaled sharply, already shaking his head. “Then let me drive you—”

“Oh, no, it’s really okay—”

“I insist,” he said, and before you could argue, his hand found the small of your back.

Heat shot through you, electric despite how warm and gentle his palm was. You exhaled, smiling, and knew there was no point in arguing. Not when he was looking at you like that—stern, certain in a caring sort of way, like his mind was already made up. So you didn’t fight it.

He walked beside you, his stride slow, deliberate. The night air was perfect with summer warmth and a cooling breeze, the quiet hum of the city stretching out around you, but you couldn't help the way that everything else had narrowed down to him—the sound of his boots against the pavement, the occasional brush of his hand near yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not quite touching.

He made a little conversation, but he was quieter now, more thoughtful. He asked about your family, where they were, if they ever came to visit. If you had much of a life outside of the shop or if it kept you too busy.

You answered easily, finding that with him, it was easy.

Joel didn’t fill the silence just to talk—he let it linger, let you breathe, let it settle into something comfortable, something that felt like it had always been there.

By the time you reached his truck, you realized just how much you liked that about him.

Joel reached for the handle, about to open the door for you, ever the gentleman.

But then he hesitated. His fingers curled around the handle, but he didn’t pull. Instead, he exhaled, slow and measured, his jaw ticking as he turned to look at you.

His gaze flickered—your eyes, your mouth, then back again—just in time for you to feel it, that slow-building heat simmering between you.

“Screw it,” he muttered.

And then his hands were on you.

One at your waist, the other coming up to cradle your jaw, his rough thumb sweeping over your cheek as he pulled you into him, his lips crashing into yours with the kind of weight that sent your heart slamming into your ribs.

The breath hitched in your throat, and for a second—just a second—you forgot how to do anything but feel.

It was slow but heavy and intentional, like he’d spent all night trying to fight the urge and finally gave in. He kissed like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. It was steady, claiming, not the kind of frantic desperation you’d expect from someone who couldn’t hold back.

No, Joel took his damn time.

His lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss, pulling you further into him. His hand slipped from your jaw, fingers threading into your hair, holding you exactly where he wanted as he kissed you again, his tongue venturing past your lips, sliding along yours in a way that made you turn molten.

You gasped softly, pressing closer, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, needing something to hold onto because God—he was overwhelming in the best way.

Joel groaned low in his throat, like he’d finally let himself indulge, like this was something he’d been starving for. His grip on your waist tightened, guiding you until your back hit the truck, his body bracketing yours against the cool metal, broad and solid and so damn warm.

“You gonna open the door or what?” you teased breathlessly, between kisses, your lips brushing against his.

Joel huffed, his nose dragging along your cheek. “You in some kinda hurry?” Joel’s lips ghosted along your jaw, trailing down the column of your throat, pressing slow, lingering kisses against your skin, each one making you melt further into him.

You let out a soft, breathy sigh, and Joel chuckled low against your neck, his breath hot. “Didn’t answer my question.”

You barely remembered what he asked. Your brain was fogged, drowning in the way he felt against you, the way his body crowded yours against the truck, solid and warm.

“No,” you managed, voice breathless. “No hurry.”

“Good to hear,” Joel muttered.

And then, in one fluid motion, he scooted you over, swung the door open, and hooked an arm around your waist—lifting you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing.

A startled gasp left your lips as he turned you, setting you down onto the worn leather seat of his truck before you could even process the shift.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before Joel climbed in after you, the door shutting with a heavy thunk, sealing you both inside. The space between you was nonexistent—all heat, all him, his presence pressing into you, crowding you in the best way.

You thanked whatever lucky stars you had that it was dark, that Joel’s truck had tinted windows, because none of it would’ve stopped you anyway. Not when you were already leaning back into him, your fingers trailing up, brushing over the scruff along his jaw.

Joel’s hand slid up your thigh, fingers curling, anchoring himself as he kissed you deeper, tilting his head to taste you fully. His other hand found your jaw, rough fingertips dragging over your skin, tilting your face toward him like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

You sighed against his mouth, pressing closer, nails scratching lightly against the denim of his jeans. He groaned, low and deep, swallowing the sound. Then, suddenly, his grip shifted, strong hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled you forward until you were straddling his lap.

A breath hitched in your throat, hands bracing against his broad chest as your knees pressed into the seat on either side of him. The new position had you flush against him, heat radiating between you, the space inside the truck growing impossibly small.

Joel’s eyes flickered up to yours, searching, giving you a chance to stop this before it went any further.

But you didn’t want to stop. So you kissed him again. Deeper. Hungrier.

Joel groaned, his hands sliding up your thighs, rough palms trailing over denim now, gripping just enough to make your breath catch. His mouth was hot, insistent, kissing you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your lips, the taste of you, the way you sighed his name when he tilted his head to deepen it.

“I don’t usually—” you began, panting as you broke from the kiss for just a moment, lips still brushing his. “I don’t usually do this on a first date, just so you know.”

“Me neither,” Joel muttered quickly, voice rough, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers laced through your hair, tangling at the base of your neck as he pulled you closer, like the space between you was too much to bear.

His other hand trailed down, squeezing at your waist before gripping the waistband of your jeans. His fingers dipped just under the fabric, teasing, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Think you can get these off for me, sweetheart?” he rasped, his voice thick with want.

Your breath caught, “H-here?”

Joel huffed, smirking just a little, his thumb brushing back and forth over the waistband, slow and teasing. “Ain’t nobody around. Just us.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, steady, certain. “Unless you really wanna stop.”

He was giving you another chance to pull away, to tell him no, and you knew if you said the word, he’d back off immediately.

But hell no. You shook your head, breathless. “No. No stopping.”

Joel’s smirk deepened, approval flashing in his darkened gaze. “That’s my girl.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the button of your jeans, fumbling slightly. Joel exhaled a soft chuckle, amused but patient, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss to your throat as his hands ran up and down your thighs, steadying you.

You finally got the zipper down, lifting your hips slightly as you started pushing them down, but Joel’s hands took over, firm and unhurried, hooking his fingers under the waistband and dragging them down your legs in one slow, smooth motion.

The second the denim was gone, his hands ran back up your bare thighs, gripping at the flesh of your ass, his gaze locked on you like he needed to commit this to memory.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked, pupils blown wide as he devoured you with his eyes. “Knew you had a great ass—couldn’t stop starin’ at it this mornin’.”

A flush spread through your body at his words, pooling low in your belly, but you could barely focus, too wrapped up in him, in the way he felt beneath you. Despite his claim earlier that he smelled like sweat and sawdust, you thought he smelled addicting—pure masculine heat, sweat and musk, with the faintest hint of whatever cologne or deodorant still clung to his skin. It was him, and it made you dizzy.

Heat curled low in your belly, especially when he tugged you down against him, pressing you right where you needed him, letting you feel all of him—hard, thick, pressing into the thin barrier of your panties.

A quiet moan slipped from your lips, and that sound did something to him.

“Oh, you make the sweetest little noises, baby,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he rocked you against him, his hands guiding your hips so you could feel just how much he wanted you.

His lips found your neck again, kissing, nipping, working their way lower, and you whimpered when they reached your shoulder, his fingers toying with the hem of your top.

“Think I wanna see more of you,” Joel muttered, voice thick and rough like gravel. His hands dragged up your sides, thumbs skimming the curve of your ribs. “Lift your arms for me.”

And you did—because you wanted more too.

Joel peeled your top off slowly, taking his time, hissing when your bare skin was revealed beneath the dim light filtering through the truck’s fogged windows. His hands ghosted over you, calloused fingertips brushing along your collarbone, down to the tops of your breasts, his eyes dark as they devoured you.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he muttered, mostly to himself, his rough fingers slipping beneath the band of your bra, teasing.

You squirmed in his lap, eager, desperate for something, arching into his touch.

Joel huffed a quiet chuckle, his lips curling as his fingers came up to pull the cups of your bra down and began palming your breasts in both hands, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

“That feel good, baby?” he rasped, watching your reaction as his thumbs brushed over your nipples, circling, teasing.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Joel smirked, then pinched lightly, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers. You moaned, head tipping back, arching into his hands.

“That’s it,” he murmured, leaning in, dragging his lips down the exposed column of your throat, over your collarbone. Then he licked along the swell of your breast before finally closing his mouth over your nipple, sucking slow and deep.

You gasped, gripping his hair, your hips instinctively grinding down against him. The friction sent a rush of heat pooling low in your belly, the hard line of him pressing right against you.

Joel groaned against your skin, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before switching to the other, giving it the same slow, torturous attention.

“Joel,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against him again, the need in you growing unbearable.

He hummed, his hands sliding down, gripping your ass, grinding you down harder against him, “You’re so needy, baby,” he muttered, his lips ghosting along your jaw. “Bet you’re already drippin’ for me, huh?”

You nodded frantically, panting, whimpering, grinding against him, desperate for more.

Joel’s hand slipped between you, his fingers slipping to cup your covered mound, feeling the dampness that had seeped through the fabric. He sucked in air through his teeth as his fingers pressed firmly, rubbing slow, teasing circles. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby. This all for me?” he teased, “Huh?”

You gasped when his fingers would press and sometimes skim along your bare skin, running along the lace, teasing, pressing just enough to make your thighs shake.

“Please,” you breathed, writhing against him, desperate for more.

Joel hummed approvingly, slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers spreading through your slick folds, teasing your clit before dipping lower, barely pushing inside.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice rough. “Takin’ my fingers so easy.”

You moaned, body shuddering as he continued to rub gentle circles around your clit before finally pushing two fingers inside, stretching you just enough to make your breath catch in your lungs. Joel groaned, watching you, drinking in every sound, every gasp, his fingers working slow and deep, curling just right to have your whole body shaking.

Your hips rocked into his hand, grinding against the heel of his palm, pleasure building fast, coiling tight in your belly. He smirked, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles that had your legs trembling around his hips.

“You gonna come for me, already, sweetheart?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Come on my fingers before I fuck you?”

You gasped, “Yes, yes–” your fingers digging into his shoulders, your body locking up as the coil snapped in your belly, pleasure ripping through you in waves as you cried out, coming hard against his hand.

Joel groaned, his head falling forward to kiss your sweaty skin, feeling the way you pulsed around his fingers, his cock twitching hard beneath you.

“That’s my girl,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, slick and shining in the dim light. You stopped breathing as he brought them to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction as he licked them clean, his tongue dragging slow over his fingers. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly, like he was ruined by the taste of you.

Once he licked his fingers clean, he brought them to your lips and rasped, “Open,”

A wicked smile crossed your lips as you parted them obediently, letting him slide his fingers onto your tongue. Joel groaned low in his throat, watching you intently, his pupils blown wide as your lips closed around his digits.

You didn’t just take them—you sucked, hollowing your cheeks, your tongue teasing along his fingertips, slow and deliberate.

Joel’s smirk fell as his whole body tensed beneath you, muscles going taut as his free hand dug into your hip, hard, like he was barely hanging on. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat, and suddenly, his slick fingers left your mouth, his hand moving to your throat—firm but careful—pulling you down to him, kissing you again. It was hungry, needy, open and wet, all tongue and heat, like he had to taste you again, like the last few minutes of teasing had finally broken something in him.

You moaned against his mouth, shifting in his lap, feeling the thick, solid length of him pressing right where you needed it most. Joel hissed at the friction, his fingers tightening on your waist. Then his hands moved, gripping your hips, holding you there as he worked open his belt, the soft clink of metal making your stomach tighten. The zipper came next, slow and deliberate, the sound loud in the thick silence between you. You watched as he freed himself, his thick cock pressing hot and heavy against your inner thigh.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and dangerous, his jaw tight with restraint, “Still want this baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, kissing his face, his neck, nipping and biting at his throat as his hands worked himself. You lifted yourself up to give him better access to you. “Want you so badly, Joel.”

He grunted at the sound of his name on your lips, so low and wrecked and needy for him. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers beneath the soaked fabric of your panties, dragging them to the side. His other hand gripped his cock, dragging the tip through your slick pussy, teasing, pressing just enough to make you whimper.

“Joel—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with restraint, positioning himself right at your entrance. “Go on. Take what you need.”

You didn’t hesitate, sinking down onto him slowly, gasping as he stretched you, filling you inch by inch until he was seated deep inside you.

Joel’s head fell back against the headrest, his hands flying to your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there.

“Jesus fuck,” he gritted out, his thighs tensing beneath you as he held himself still. “You’re—fuck, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight,.”

You moaned, feeling every inch of him pulsing inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he rocked his hips up into you, and your head snapped up at the force, making you look up just in time to see a familiar face out the back window.

“Oh shit—Tommy.”

Joel’s entire body went rigid, “Please do not tell me you just—“

“No—Tommy,” you hissed, ducking down as far as you could, but it only added more friction, making Joel’s cock pulse inside you.

He grunted sharply, his fingers digging in harder to steady you, his jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to react to the way you just squeezed around him.

Then, a truck door slammed shut.

“Hey, ain’t this Joel’s?” Tommy’s voice rang out, just outside, “Thought he left hours ago,”

Joel’s eyes snapped open, wild and alert. In an instant, his arm shot out, slamming the lock button with a sharp click.

Your heart raced, your hands scrambling to tug your shirt back over your head as Joel shifted beneath you, one hand still firm on your waist, the other reaching toward the door controls.

“Is he in there?” Tommy muttered to himself. The sound of boots crunching against gravel got closer.

Joel rolled down the window—but only a few inches, just enough for Tommy to see his face and nothing else.

Joel’s expression was thunderous. “The fuck do you want?”

Tommy’s brows raised. “Damn, hello to you too,” he muttered, squinting between the tinted glass. “I been callin’ you. You never got back to the landscaper—”

Tommy blinked. His brows lifted slightly.

“Well, hell,” he said, smirking. “That the coffee shop girl?”

You, still catching your breath, gave a little nod, “Hey Tommy,”

Tommy grinned. “Joel never shuts up about your coffee.”

Joel groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”

Tommy’s smirk widened, shifting his weight onto one hip, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, you guys comin’ or what? Bout to head down to Jameson’s Bar down the street with some of the guys.”

The good thing was—from Tommy’s point of view—it probably just looked like a hot and heavy makeout session in the truck. He couldn’t see that Joel was inside you. Your eyes flicked up to Joel’s face, still locked in frustration, his jaw clenched, his breathing ragged. And just because you could, just because you had to—you rocked your hips just a little. Joel choked on his own breath, his whole body seizing, his hands flying to your waist in warning. His eyes darted to you in a look that might kill you if you didn’t feel the betraying feeling of his cock twitch inside you.

You bit your lip, eyes flicking down at Joel, voice sweet as honey, “Was just about to.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, his fingers pinching your ass hard in retaliation. You yelped, causing your body to twist up and into him, and he had to swallow his groan.

Then, suddenly, Tommy’s expression shifted.

His eyes flicked between the both of you—Joel looking wrecked, breath uneven, a little too flushed for the cool evening breeze, and you, doing your best to keep your face neutral while subtly adjusting yourself in his lap.

Tommy’s head tilted. His mouth parted.

And then, slowly—slowly—a knowing smirk crept onto his face.

“No way,” he breathed, realization dawning. “You are not—”

“Tommy,” Joel ground out, voice low and warning.

But it was too late.

Tommy burst out laughing, doubling over, hands on his knees.

Joel exhaled sharply, hands twitching on your waist, his patience hanging by a thread. “Swear to God—”

You, on the other hand, were trying very, very hard to keep a straight face.

Tommy finally straightened up, wiping at his eyes, still grinning like an idiot. “Man, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Get outta here,” Joel said between his teeth.

Tommy held his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step back from the truck. “Hey, hey, I ain’t judgin’—I just never thought I’d see the day my big brother was gettin’ it on in a goddamn parking lot like a damn teenager.”

Joel groaned, glaring daggers at him. “You done?”

Tommy smirked, but started backing toward his truck. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” He shot you a wink. “You take care now, darlin’.”

You smiled sweetly. “I will, Tommy.”

Joel huffed sharply, clearly done with this entire situation.

You kept an eye on Tommy as he finally slid into his truck, still shaking his head as he fired up the engine. Before he pulled away, he called out—

“Don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do!”

Joel slammed the window up before you could reply.

The second Tommy’s taillights disappeared down the road, Joel let out a long, deep breath, his grip on your waist still iron-tight.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You giggled, biting your lip, still settled in his lap, still pulsing around him.

Joel’s gaze snapped to you.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, voice thick, dark.

You blinked at him innocently, then, just to test him, you rolled your hips slowly, feeling his cock move deep inside you again. Both of you moaned at the feeling.

“You’re playin’ with fire, sweetheart,” he warned, his voice low, rough.

“Mmm but you love it,” you smiled.

Joel growled, his patience finally snapping.

His hands tightened, yanking you down against him, grinding your soaked heat over him slow and deep.

You gasped, your fingers flying to his shoulders, nails digging in as he set the rhythm, his hips rocking up to meet yours, filling you over and over again.

“Fuckin' hell, girl,” Joel gritted out, his forehead dropping against yours. “You love this, don’t you?”

You could barely breathe, pleasure pooling low and hot, winding tight in your belly.

“Y-yes, feels s–s–so good,” you gasped, rolling your hips faster, chasing the high that had been aching inside you since the moment he first touched you.

Joel’s lips crashed into yours, swallowing the moan that tore from your throat as his hips snapped up into you, deep and slow at first, like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. You whimpered, fingers fisting in the shoulders of his shirt, clinging to him as the pleasure started to coil, winding tighter and tighter with every drag of his cock inside you.

“Oh god,” you gasped, barely able to breathe, barely able to think beyond the feel of him filling you, stretching you, hitting the perfect spot over and over.

He groaned, lips catching yours in another kiss, his breath hot and ragged. “That’s it, baby—just like that,” he murmured, his voice rough, his hands gripping at your hips as he rocked up to meet you.

You moved with him, rolling your hips, your body seeking more, chasing it, the friction and heat spiraling higher, hotter, pleasure building until it felt like you were seconds from snapping.

Joel must’ve felt it, the way you were trembling, the way your body clenched tighter around him, because his grip on your hips tightened, guiding you faster, pushing you closer, until—

“Come on now, hunny–you all talk or you really gonna cum?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with need. “Let me have it, wanna feel you.”

And that—his words, his voice, the command in it—was what undid you.

A sharp, wrecked moan tore from your lips as the pressure snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves, your whole body shuddering as you clenched tight around him, pulsing, shaking, coming undone in his lap.

Joel groaned loudly, his head tipping back against the headrest, his jaw tight, his breath shattering as he thrust up into you, once, twice—

And then he followed, his grip bruising on your hips as he buried himself deep, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat as he came, spilling hot inside you, his whole body locking up before relaxing, spent, wrecked.

The truck fell into silence, save for the sound of your ragged breathing, the sticky heat between you, the feel of his hands still gripping your hips, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “Holy shit.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a huffed-out chuckle against your hair. “Yeah.”

You stayed like that for a moment, neither of you moving, just breathing each other in, the moment settling between you.

Finally, Joel ran a slow, warm hand up your spine, his voice still gravelly when he spoke.

“So.” A beat. “We ain’t goin’ to Jameson’s, huh?”

You laughed, shaking your head against his shoulder. “Not a chance.”

Joel smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

“Good.”

#just coffee joel #Joel miller #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x you #Joel miller smut #smutty one shot #Joel miller tlou #tlou #Joel miller the last of us #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #Joel miller fanfic #Joel miller one shot #Joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller smutty #Tommy cameo

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dervampireprince · 2 days ago

Text

there was a little interest in me sharing my writing drabbles and ideas about lucien (my visiting king oc) and lysander (my villain oc) as a couple so here's all the things i shared in my discord last week (how was it only last week, it feels like forever ago).

[18+ only, minors dni]

note: lucien and lysander are both trans men with bottom and top surgery

i tried to format this in a way that's readable. it's a mix of different little scenarios including my entire summary of their plot of how they'd meet and get together. i had no idea how to format thisss.

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the message that started it all: peaking in from my uhh 3 hours of drawing as i attempt to make a design for the villain and keep hating what im drawing and scrapping the design and starting again to say hey. you know who'd treat him right? the visiting king

i thought about it as a joke but um. i dont think its a joke anymore.

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What if I shipped them:

Villain submitting looks like him crying, head throne back, sobbing, the king gently and slowly breaking him down, praising him, cradling him

King submitting looks like him on his knees, begging as the villain’s boot presses down onto his cock, begging to be touched however the villain sees fit, villain telling him how useful he is being

Luce: I missed you. Ly: I was only gone for a week. Luce: Even an hour without your presence feels like a lifetime [kisses his hand]. Ly: [internally: what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck] [blushing profusely]

Lysander crying the first time Lucien fucks him because he’s being so gentle, works him open so slowly, tells him how beautiful he is, “Oh Zander,” Lucien coos when he’s finally seated inside him, Lysander embarrassed at how emotional he is, but Lucien pulls his hands from his face, kisses his them, tells him he’s perfect.

Lysander leaving Lucien with a cock ring on while he’s away.

Lucien is on his knees, ring around his straining cock. His moans are muffled, his hair tugged back and forth, as Lysander fucks his face. When Lysander pulls his cock out, Lucien begs. “Please Zander, please let me fuck you.” “Hmm,” Lysander pretends to think about it while Lucien keeps babbling, pleading over and over. “And what if I want to fuck you?” “Anything,” Lucien doesn’t even blink. “As long as my skin gets to touch yours, please, give me anything.” And what really can Lysander do with that other than have Lucien bent over the bed, fucking into him over and over, every time he gets close… he stops. He edges himself inside Lucien’s hole, all the while Lucien is unable to come from the ring around his cock. Once Lucien is relaxed and out of his mind enough to stop begging, to just take whatever Lysander gives him, to stop thinking, that’s when Lysander will let him come.

okay so how i see it happening.

lucien somehow finds out about what's going on in lysander's city and wants to help. they start meeting each other. lysander does not trust him, doesn't want to trust him, because he's never been able to put any trust or faith in a nobility or royalty or higher ups. but lucien just seems so... nice. good. and that can't be right, no one can be that nice without something to gain, without some agenda.

but time passes. lucien is really just that nice. and he sees good in lysander. and lysander knows what he's doing isn't wrong, he believes what he's doing is right, but he also doesn't really believe he's a good person. and lucien tells him he is. and that annoys him because it makes him *feel*.

and lucien ends up helping too much. or doing something to help lysander's people that makes lysander feel inept. who does lucien think he is, swooping in with his riches and power. doing things for them lysander couldn't because he didn't have the money. and maybe lysander takes it as lucien trying to make him feel small and poor, but that isn't how lucien meant it. and lysander knows that deep down. but it's easier to get angry at lucien than accept that it's okay if he wants or needs this man's help. so he gets angry at lucien.

and lysander know's he's wrong for blowing up at him. for pushing him away. and after an amount of time of feeling sorry for himself, he goes to see lucien. shows up on his doorstep and apologies. and lucien just accepts it. this stupid fucking kind man just accepts it, says he understands, *he* apologies for overstepping, that he should have consulted lysander, doesn't want to cross any boundaries, tells lysander he's doing a good job and that wall inside lysander just comes crumbling down.

lysander stays the night, in his own room lucien has set aside. and in the morning lucien invites him for breakfast. and then on a walk, touring his gardens. and lysander asks what the fuck all of this is. and lucien says he just wants to help, but admits to having one ulterior motive. and lysander thinks finally he's got him but the lucien says "i wanted an excuse to keep seeing you".

lysander calls him a stupid man. blusters and tries to act like he doesn't understand what lucien is getting at, but he does. and lucien just stands there patiently, until lysander has finished ranting, and then asks lysander if he can court him. if he can kiss him.

and lysander says yes.

Lysander telling Lucien to stop fucking him like he’s gonna break. Lucien says he’s not into causing pain. But Lysander’s not asking for pain, he’s just asking if Lucien ever wants to just pound into him. It takes some convincing that he’s allowed too (Lucien is worried he’s too big and could too easily hurt someone) but Lysander assures him that he wants to be fucked hard.

#sorry if its formatted weird i just wanted it to be readable #its a bunch of different scenarios so i didnt want people confused or to see just one big wall of text #the vampire writes #lucien #lysander #lucien x lysander #visiting king #villain x hero #nsft writing #nsft concept #royalty kink #the vampires ocs #regency kink

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maul-of-shame · 1 day ago

Note

Why do you and valar-did-me-wrong never post the heinous, hateful haladriel anons you claim to have received? Whenever someone gets hate they usually post the anons as proof, but neither of you did that. Interesting.

Where do I even begin with this absolute masterpiece of a reach? Because truly, the acrobatics in your logic could put even the most seasoned Cirque du Soleil performer to shame.

First off— You, just like them, came as anon. Obviously. You think people who throw hate have the guts to stand by what they say? Please. They sit behind their little grey-faced anonymity, spitting bile, because deep down, they know their accusations wouldn’t hold up to even the lightest scrutiny. They fear feedback, backlash, and accountability, which is why they only ever send these messages from the safety of a faceless profile. The only thing “interesting” here is your apparent belief that cowardly hate only counts if it’s publicly aired for your personal entertainment.

And let’s talk about this absolute gem of a claim: that I never posted proof.

Bestie, the fact that you even typed that out tells me one thing—you haven’t read shit.

I have posted proof. I have responded to hateful asks. I have directly addressed this before, which means you either (a) didn’t bother looking, (b) did and ignored it because it didn’t fit your little narrative, or (c) are just here to stir the pot regardless of reality.

The fact that you’re automatically assuming that anyone speaking out about harassment must be lying because you haven’t personally seen enough spectacle for your liking. That says far more about you than it does about me. You really just jumped straight to “They must be making it up!” without even considering that maybe, just maybe, people don’t owe you a trauma display just to prove they were harassed. That’s not a gotcha moment—that’s just a really nasty take.

Like, do you ask people to livestream their trauma too? Should we submit a notarized affidavit of every slur, threat, and unhinged screed we get in our inbox? Or would you still move the goalposts and pretend it’s “not that bad” because facing the truth makes you uncomfortable? Because abusers love the fact that people like you exist. They thrive on this exact kind of dismissal, knowing people like you will swoop in and do their dirty work by demanding “proof” while ignoring the actual problem.

And let’s not pretend for a single second that you give a shit about fairness, because if you did, you’d be holding your own side accountable instead of crawling into my inbox with your weird little conspiracy theories but oh well-

Oh, and don’t think I didn’t clock what you were trying to do as well. Dragging Valar into this? Really?

@valar-did-me-wrong, is one of the kindest, most unproblematic people in this fandom. They have my love and support and for you to drag them into this, this is absolutely vile.

The fact you tried to drag them into this tells me everything I need to know about your intentions. This isn’t about “truth.” It’s not about “proof.” It’s about trying to discredit and dismiss people speaking up about harassment because it’s easier than acknowledging that maybe—just maybe—people in your own circles are the ones sending vile shit. And that? That’s pathetic.

You really thought you did something here, huh? Sat down, typed this whole thing out, and thought, "Wow, this is gonna expose them!" Bestie, all you did was expose yourself. The way you immediately assumed that because you haven’t personally seen the proof, it must not exist? The way you think people owe you a public parade of every nasty message they get just so you can decide if their harassment is real enough? That says way more about you than it does about me.

And let’s be real for a second—if I had flooded my blog with every single piece of hate I’ve received, you and people like you would be the first to turn around and say, “Oh, look at them playing the victim, making a spectacle of it, stirring drama!” You want to move the goalposts because your problem isn’t actually with whether or not this harassment happened. Your problem is with people you dislike daring to call it out.

And the funniest part? You came into my inbox as an anon to accuse me of lying about anon hate.

The sheer lack of self-awareness is honestly impressive. The irony is writing itself at this point. The call is literally coming from inside the house, babe.

At the end of the day, your little conspiracy theory is as embarrassing as it is transparent. If you need to contort reality this hard just to make yourself feel better about defending the people sending hate, that’s on you. But don’t expect me—or anyone else—to take you seriously.

Oh, and before you waddle off back to whatever echo chamber convinced you this was a good idea—next time, try coming up with a take that doesn’t make you look like a sentient Lembas crumb with trust issues. Your logic is as fragile as Denethor’s grip on reality, and frankly, I’ve had more stimulating debates with my toaster. Now go touch some grass, hydrate, and maybe, just maybe, develop a personality that isn’t built entirely on being insufferable. Stop embarassing yourself in my inbox, Gollum.

Toodles!!😊

#the rings of power #trop #rings of power #trop season 2 #amazon the rings of power #anon you're EMBARASSING YOURSELF LMAO #elrond peredhel #galadriel x elrond #elrondriel #galadriel #elrond x galadriel #me: shares like +15 rants and answering anon hate and all/ anon: YOU HAVEN'T SHOWN PROOF SO YOU'RE LYING #needed that pathetic take tonight X'DDDDD

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lightdancingwords · 15 hours ago

Text

Second Chances - Part Seventeen of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock. Word Count: 5,735 Tags/Warnings: Mainly fluff. So much fluff. Some emotional insecurity. Implied smut. A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! This story is ongoing and likely will never end!

Note: Please take a look at this post for the posting schedule for Second Chances! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Seventeen: Family Treasures

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the quiet home. The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air, mingling with the scent of pancakes sizzling on the stove. It was a peaceful, slow morning—the kind that Y/N had come to treasure.

But peaceful didn’t last long when Eliza was involved.

“Big Sissy, BIG SISSY, BIG SISSYYYY!”

Emily barely had time to react before a blur of curls and boundless energy tackled her midsection, nearly knocking her off balance.

“Whoa!” Emily laughed, catching Eliza before they both tumbled. “Good morning to you too, wild child.”

Eliza grinned up at her, her eyes bright with excitement. “Big Sissy play today?”

Emily smirked, kneeling down to her level. “That was the plan, but I gotta ask—is Grandma gonna let you go?”

Eliza gasped dramatically, turning toward the kitchen where Margaret stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with a knowing smile.

“Gramma, please?” Eliza clasped her hands together, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

Margaret didn’t even turn around. “Mmm, I don’t know,” she mused playfully. “I was looking forward to a whole day of snuggles.”

Eliza gasped again, eyes wide. “But… but Big Sissy said!”

Emily bit back a laugh, glancing at Margaret. “I did promise her a fun day, Grandma. Maybe… a trip into town? A little sister’s adventure?”

Margaret finally turned around, setting the spatula down, folding her arms, and pretending to think. “Well… I suppose I could let you go… if you promise to bring me back something sweet.”

Eliza gasped again, bouncing excitedly. “ICE CREAM?”

Margaret chuckled. “Mmm, sounds like a fair deal.”

Emily grinned, ruffling Eliza’s curls. “Deal sealed, kiddo. Let’s get you dressed, and then we’re outta here.”

Eliza squealed and ran for her room, disappearing in a flurry of excitement.

Margaret shook her head, laughing. “You’re a natural with her.”

Emily smiled. “She makes it easy.”

Margaret reached over, tucking a strand of Emily’s hair behind her ear. “You know… I can see a lot of Beau in you.”

Emily blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Margaret nodded. “That protectiveness. That strong, steady presence. It’s in your blood, sweetheart.”

Emily’s throat tightened slightly, but she smiled. “That’s… nice to hear.”

Margaret patted her cheek affectionately before turning back to the stove. “All right, you girls go have your fun. I’ve got a little man to spoil rotten.”

The morning sun filtered through the windows, casting warm golden streaks across the bedroom as Beau buttoned up his shirt, rolling his shoulders to shake off the lingering sleep. His badge sat on the dresser beside his belt, waiting for him to put it on.

Across the room, Y/N stood in front of the mirror, securing an earring while skimming over her planner, mentally running through her schedule for the day. Between work and wedding planning, her plate was full, and the next two weeks were going to be nothing short of chaos.

Beau ran a hand through his hair before stepping behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against his chest. “You sure I can’t convince you to call in sick today?” he murmured against her neck, pressing a slow kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

Y/N sighed, tilting her head slightly to give him better access before catching herself with a chuckle. “Tempting, Sheriff, but no. I actually like my job, and I have too much to do.”

Beau groaned dramatically, letting his forehead rest against her shoulder. “That sounds boring.”

Y/N smirked, turning in his arms. “And your day of paperwork and chasing down stray cows doesn’t?”

Beau snorted. “Fair point.”

She placed a hand on his chest, smoothing the fabric of his shirt. “Besides, if I have to work and plan a wedding, you have to suffer through work, too.”

Beau smirked, leaning down to kiss her—slow, deep, full of promise. “Fine. But I expect some kind of reward for my suffering later.”

Y/N hummed against his lips, pretending to consider. “We’ll see.”

He grinned, grabbing his belt and badge as she turned back toward the mirror to brush through her hair. He watched her, the way she moved, the way her lips curled slightly as she focused. Damn, she was beautiful.

“Hey,” he called, tossing his belt onto the bed and stepping toward her again.

Y/N turned just in time for him to steal another kiss, this one deeper, longer, as he backed her up against the dresser. Her fingers curled around the front of his shirt, holding him there.

“You are so stalling,” she murmured against his lips.

“Damn right, I am,” he muttered, kissing her again.

She laughed, finally managing to nudge him away. “Go. Before Jenny calls and yells at you for being late.”

Beau groaned, reluctantly stepping back. “Fine. But I’m countin' the minutes ‘til I get home.”

Y/N smirked. “Then you better make them count.”

Beau shot her a wink before finally grabbing his hat and heading toward the door.

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly to herself. That man was impossible.

And she wouldn’t have him any other way.

Margaret was already in full grandma mode.

With Eliza and Emily gone, she had one mission: completely spoil baby Caleb.

She rocked him gently in her arms, humming softly, his tiny fingers gripping at her necklace. “Oh, you are just the sweetest thing,” she cooed, brushing a soft kiss over his forehead.

Caleb made a soft noise of contentment, blinking up at her with wide, sleepy eyes.

“Oh, I know,” Margaret murmured, gently bouncing him. “Your mama and daddy think they’re in charge, but we know who really rules this house, don’t we?”

Caleb yawned, his tiny mouth stretching wide, making Margaret chuckle.

She settled into the rocking chair, stroking his soft hair. “You, little one, are going to be so loved.”

And with that, she rocked him back to sleep, completely and utterly in grandmother heaven.

Beau had barely settled into his office, already knee-deep in paperwork, when a soft knock sounded from the doorframe.

He glanced up to see Carla standing there, her expression hesitant but open.

“Hey, Beau,” she greeted.

Beau sat back in his chair, waving her in. “Carla. C’mon in.”

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her before settling into the chair across from him. There was a pause—one of those loaded silences where you knew something was coming, but you weren’t sure what.

“I, uh… I wanted to talk to you about something,” she started.

Beau raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Carla let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah. Nothing bad. Just… I got my wedding invitation a couple of days ago.”

Beau straightened slightly, watching her carefully.

“I guess I just wanted to check,” Carla continued, tapping her fingers lightly against the armrest. “Make sure it’s really okay. That I’m really welcome there.”

Beau exhaled, leaning forward slightly. “Carla, of course you’re welcome. Y/N and I wouldn’t have invited you if we didn’t mean it.”

Carla studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” She hesitated before adding, “Emily’s been giving me updates. She’s been loving spending time with Y/N, with the kids.”

Beau’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah. She and Eliza are practically inseparable now.”

Carla grinned. “Sounds about right. She was so excited to meet them.” She paused, exhaling softly. “I’m happy for you, Beau.”

Beau blinked, caught slightly off guard by the sincerity in her tone.

Carla leaned back, crossing her arms. “I knew about you and Y/N months ago. I could tell. You fell hard for her, and fast.” She smirked slightly. “Not that I was surprised.”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “Was it that obvious?”

Carla gave him a knowing look. “Beau, I’ve known you for a long time. I could tell when something changed. And I remember telling you to go for it.”

Beau exhaled, some of the tension in his chest easing. “That means a lot, Carla.”

She smiled. “It’s not weird, you know. You and me—we had our time, and we have Emily. That’s our story. And now, this? This is yours.”

Beau nodded, letting her words settle in.

Carla sighed, standing up. “I just wanted to make sure there were no weird feelings. And to say… I really am happy for you.”

Beau stood as well, giving her a grateful look. “I appreciate that, Carla. More than you know.”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Well, that doesn’t mean I won’t be making fun of you for crying at the altar.”

Beau scoffed. “Who says I’m gonna cry?”

Carla gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, Beau. Please.”

Beau huffed, shaking his head. “Fine. Maybe a little.”

Carla laughed before reaching for the door. “See you at the wedding, Sheriff.”

Beau grinned, watching as she walked out, a weight lifting from his chest.

Everything was good.

Everything was right.

And now? Now, he could focus on marrying the love of his life.

Eliza, dressed in her favorite sundress, held tightly to Emily’s hand as they strolled through town, stopping at every window display, every little shop that caught Eliza’s attention.

“Sissy, look!” Eliza gasped, pointing at a giant stuffed bear in a store window.

Emily grinned. “You do have a birthday coming up soon… should we put that on your wish list?”

Eliza gasped again, nodding eagerly. “YES!”

Emily laughed, tugging her along. “All right, all right. Let’s get ice cream first.”

By the time Beau pulled into the driveway, the sun was dipping low, casting warm golden light over the house. It had been a long day, but the second he stepped through the front door, any exhaustion he felt faded at the sound of tiny, excited babbles filling the air.

Eliza was going off in full toddler mode, bouncing on her feet, her little hands moving wildly as she tried to explain everything that had happened during her adventure with Emily.

“—sissy get me ice cream! BIG one! Had choco—choc’ate! An’ sprinkles! An’—doggie! Saw doggie! Big! Go woof!”

Y/N, standing near the counter, was laughing softly as she set plates on the table. “She’s been like this since they got back,” she said, glancing up at Beau with a knowing smile.

Emily, standing beside Eliza, arms crossed, was beaming, her face full of warmth as she nodded along to every word. “I swear she didn’t stop talking once today,” she said, shaking her head with an amused grin.

Beau chuckled, bending down to scoop Eliza up into his arms, her tiny hands immediately clutching onto his shirt. “That so, baby girl?”

Eliza nodded so fast it nearly knocked her curls loose. “Yeah! Fun! Sissy fun!”

Emily smirked. “We had a blast.”

Beau grinned, shifting Eliza in his arms. “That true, wolf-child? You like hangin’ with Big Sissy?”

Eliza’s face lit up as she turned, patting Emily’s shoulder with her little hand. “Mine!”

Emily laughed, nodding. “Yup. I’ve been claimed.”

Beau’s chest swelled with something deep, something warm.

This. This was exactly what he had always wanted.

He looked over at Y/N, who was watching it all unfold, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her eyes met his, full of love, full of knowing.

“Sounds like we had a good day,” Beau murmured, pressing a kiss to Eliza’s cheek before setting her down.

Eliza immediately latched onto Emily’s leg, babbling again. “Sissy got cookie! For G’ma! Big one! Choco one!”

Emily grinned. “That’s right. We promised Grandma a cookie.”

Beau raised an eyebrow, looking between them. “And where’s mine?”

Eliza’s whole face froze.

Her eyes went huge, her mouth forming a little o. She turned very slowly to Emily, blinking. “Uh-oh.”

Emily burst out laughing, covering her mouth.

Beau let out a deep chuckle, kneeling back down to Eliza’s level. “You forgot your old man, huh?”

Eliza made a tiny whimper sound before throwing herself against his chest. “Sowwy, Daddy!”

Beau laughed, hugging her tight. “It’s okay, baby girl. I forgive you.”

Eliza pulled back, gripping both sides of his face with her tiny hands. “You okay?”

He grinned. “Yeah, darlin’. I’m okay.”

She studied him very seriously before nodding to herself, as if deciding he was probably not too heartbroken over the missing cookie.

Emily, still laughing, wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Beau shook his head, standing up. “You’re gonna fit right in with these two, Em.”

Y/N walked over, slipping her arms around Beau’s waist, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Told you she was gonna adore her big sister.”

Beau exhaled, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close. “Yeah,” he murmured. “And I love seein’ it.”

Emily, watching them, felt a tightness in her throat—one that had nothing to do with sadness and everything to do with how full her heart felt.

Y/N turned to her, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “She’s already your girl, too.”

Emily swallowed, nodding. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I think she is.”

And as Eliza tugged on her hand, demanding more attention, Emily knew—

This was home.

This was family.

And she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The house was quiet, wrapped in the stillness of the Montana night.

Beau lay on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other lazily tracing circles against Y/N’s bare shoulder as she lay curled up against him, her head resting on his chest. Their breaths were still heavy, their bodies warm and tangled beneath the sheets, the scent of lovemaking lingering between them.

It had been different tonight.

Not rushed, not just a release—it had been intense, raw, all-consuming. A reflection of the love swelling inside them, the joy filling their home, the way their family was growing and blending so seamlessly.

Y/N sighed softly, nuzzling into his chest. “That was… something else.”

Beau chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah, it was.”

A comfortable silence stretched between them for a while, their bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of their passion.

Then, quietly, Y/N murmured, “Emily fits in so perfectly.”

Beau exhaled, his hand sliding through her hair, his fingers combing through the soft strands. “Yeah,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “She really does.”

Y/N shifted, tilting her head up to look at him. His green eyes were soft, thoughtful, his usual confidence replaced with something deeper, something almost vulnerable.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to me,” he murmured, “seeing her with the kids. With you.” He swallowed, his throat tight. “I spent so long wonderin’ if I’d ever have this. A real family. A home that just… felt right.”

Y/N reached up, cupping his cheek. “You do, Beau.”

His jaw clenched slightly as he turned his face into her palm, pressing a lingering kiss there. “I know,” he admitted. “And I don’t ever wanna take it for granted.”

Y/N studied him, sensing there was more he wanted to say.

“Beau?” she prompted gently.

He took a slow breath before shifting, rolling slightly to his side so he could look at her fully. His fingers trailed along her arm, his touch reverent, deliberate.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” he started, his voice low, careful. “About Eliza.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly, curiosity flickering in her gaze. “What about her?”

Beau held her gaze, his thumb brushing absently over her wrist. “I want to adopt her.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

Beau swallowed, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Not just ‘cause we’re getting married. Not just ‘cause she’s your little girl. But because… she’s mine too, Y/N. She feels like mine. She is mine in every way that matters. And I want to make it official.”

Y/N blinked, her chest tightening. “Beau…”

“I love her,” he continued, his voice thick. “I love her like she’s always been mine. And I want her to know that. To never have to question it. To never have to wonder.”

Y/N’s throat bobbed, emotion clogging it. “Are you sure?” she whispered.

Beau let out a small chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Darlin’, I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “She is my little girl. And I wanna make it real. In every way.”

Y/N’s eyes welled with tears, her lips trembling. “Beau…”

He reached up, cupping her face. “Say yes,” he murmured.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, nodding frantically as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Beau exhaled, relief washing over his face before he pulled her into a deep, soul-stealing kiss.

When they pulled apart, Y/N cupped his jaw, running her thumbs over the stubble there. “She’s going to be so happy, Beau.”

Beau smiled, brushing his nose against hers. “Good. ‘Cause I plan on spoilin’ that little girl for the rest of my damn life.”

Y/N laughed softly before pressing another kiss to his lips, then his forehead, then his chest, where his heart beat strong beneath her palm.

Beau wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, breathing her in.

Their family was already whole, already perfect.

The house was alive with warmth and movement.

Morning light streamed through the kitchen window, casting golden streaks over the countertops where Y/N stood, flipping pancakes while the scent of fresh coffee filled the air.

Eliza was in the living room, enthusiastically banging together two plastic toys, her own personal concert echoing throughout the house.

At the kitchen table, Emily sat across from Margaret, who was cradling Caleb like he was the most precious thing in the world. Which, as far as she was concerned, he was.

Emily grinned as she sipped her coffee. “So… is it just me, or are you completely obsessed with this kid?”

Margaret smirked, rocking Caleb gently as he blinked up at her with sleepy eyes. “Oh, I absolutely am.”

Emily laughed. “You know you’re holding him like someone’s gonna steal him, right?”

Margaret scoffed, shifting Caleb slightly to rest against her shoulder. “I dare someone to try.”

Emily shook her head, amused. “All right, all right. But, hey… I was thinking, maybe I could spend the day with him?”

Margaret froze, her grip immediately tightening around Caleb’s tiny body.

Y/N, still by the stove, smiled to herself, already knowing this was coming.

Margaret cleared her throat, but her fingers still curled firmly around the baby’s back. “Spend the day… how, exactly?”

Emily leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. “Just—bonding! Maybe take him outside for a little stroll, get him some fresh air, let you have some time to yourself.”

Margaret arched a brow. “I don’t need time to myself. I have Caleb.”

Emily snorted. “Grandma, you do you can share him with the rest of us, right?”

Margaret gave a very unimpressed look before turning to Caleb, cooing softly. “She doesn’t understand us, does she, baby?”

Caleb let out a tiny coo, his little fingers gripping the collar of her blouse.

Emily groaned, looking at Y/N for backup. “Am I losing this battle?”

Y/N finally turned, setting a plate of pancakes on the table before leaning against the counter. “You might be.”

Emily sighed dramatically before pressing her hands together. “Okay, okay—look, I love Eliza, but she’s a lot of energy. I thought today I could get some quiet bonding time with this little guy.”

Margaret pursed her lips. “And what if he needs something?”

Emily gave her a look. “I do have basic baby knowledge, Grandma.”

Margaret sighed, looking down at Caleb again, her fingers still not loosening. “It’s not you, sweetheart. It’s me.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Mom, let the girl spend time with her brother. You’re just being possessive.”

Margaret huffed. “I am not possessive.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Last night, I literally heard you whisper ‘mine’ when you were rocking him.”

Emily burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s adorable but also exactly my point.”

Margaret let out a dramatic sigh, looking between them before pressing a kiss to Caleb’s head. “Fine. But if you need anything, you call me immediately.”

Emily grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

Margaret reluctantly handed Caleb over, her hands hovering like she was mentally preparing herself to snatch him back at any moment.

Y/N smirked as she handed Emily a bottle. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Margaret huffed. “We’ll see.”

Just then, the bedroom door opened, and Beau stepped out, his hair still damp from his shower, a towel draped over his shoulders as he buttoned up his shirt.

His eyes immediately scanned the room, landing on Emily holding Caleb. He arched a brow. “Well, look at you. Movin’ up in the world.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Apparently, it was a hard sell.”

Margaret muttered, crossing her arms. “It was.”

Beau smirked, walking over to Y/N, dropping a kiss on her cheek before stealing a bite of pancake straight off her plate.

Y/N swatted at him. “Go eat your own food, Sheriff.”

Beau grinned, reaching for his coffee as he turned back to Margaret. “You okay, Margaret? You look like someone stole your car.”

Margaret huffed, giving Emily one last look before dramatically sipping her coffee. “I’ll survive.”

Beau chuckled, grabbing a fork and sitting down beside Emily, watching as she held Caleb with ease.

“You know,” he murmured, tilting his head, “this really is somethin’ special.”

Emily looked at him, brow raised. “What is?”

Beau took a sip of coffee before smirking. “All three of my kids under the same roof.”

Emily’s expression softened as she looked down at Caleb, her fingers gently brushing over his tiny hand.

Yeah.

That was something special.

The warm glow of the setting sun stretched across the driveway as Beau pulled the truck to a stop in front of the house. The day had been long—work always felt longer when he knew what was waiting for him at home—but now that he was here, something inside him instantly settled.

Y/N stretched in the passenger seat, letting out a soft sigh. “I am so ready to be home.”

Beau smirked, unbuckling his seatbelt. “That bad, huh?”

Y/N gave him a pointed look. “Do you know how many last-minute wedding things I had to deal with today on top of work stuff?”

Beau grinned. “Nope. And that’s why I left you in charge.”

Y/N swatted at his arm. “You’re impossible.”

Beau leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. “And yet, you love me anyway.”

Y/N sighed against his mouth. “Unfortunately.”

Beau chuckled, then opened the door, stepping out just as another car pulled into the driveway.

Margaret was behind the wheel, and as soon as she parked, she got out and moved to the backseat. Beau and Y/N watched as she opened the door, carefully unbuckling Eliza from her car seat.

The second Eliza was free, she started wiggling excitedly, her little feet kicking against the seat. “Mommy! Daddy!” she squealed, bouncing as Margaret lifted her out and set her down on the ground.

Eliza bolted toward them, her little feet pattering against the gravel.

Beau barely had time to crouch before Eliza launched herself into his arms. He lifted her effortlessly, settling her against his hip. “Hey there, wolf-child,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her messy curls. “Did you have a good day?”

Eliza nodded rapidly. “Big one!”

Margaret chuckled as she walked up the steps. “That girl wore me out today.”

Y/N reached for Eliza’s chubby little hand, kissing her fingers. “Did Grandma spoil you?”

Eliza’s face lit up as she nodded enthusiastically. “Cookies! An’ toys! An’ big slide! An’—”

She suddenly gasped dramatically, wiggling in Beau’s arms until he set her down. Then, without missing a beat, she bolted inside. “Sissy! Sissy! Mommy ‘n’ Daddy home!”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist. “Think she missed us?”

Y/N laughed. “I think she’s just excited to show off whatever she convinced Grandma to buy her today.”

Margaret huffed playfully as she made her way inside. “You act like I spoil her.”

Beau smirked. “Margaret, you literally just came back from taking her to a toy store.”

Margaret sniffed. “She needed a new stuffed horse.”

Y/N snorted. “Right. Needed.”

They followed Margaret inside, where Eliza was already bouncing beside the couch, tugging at Emily’s arm, trying to get her attention.

Emily, however, was completely entranced by Caleb.

The baby was settled comfortably against her chest, wide awake, his tiny fingers occasionally flexing in the air as she gently rocked him back and forth.

Y/N nudged Beau’s arm, nodding toward the scene. “Oh, look at her.”

Beau smirked, stepping forward. “Well, well, well. Someone’s got a case of baby fever.”

Emily glanced up, blinking as if she had just realized they were there. “Oh—hey! You guys are back.”

Beau raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “You, uh… good there, Em?”

Emily huffed a small laugh, looking back down at Caleb, her face full of warmth. “I get it now.”

Beau chuckled. “Get what?”

Emily gently stroked Caleb’s tiny fingers, her voice softer than usual. “Why people love babies so much.”

Y/N bit back a smile as she walked over, peering down at Caleb. “He is a pretty easygoing little guy.”

Emily nodded. “He barely fussed all day. Just ate, snuggled, and blinked up at me like I was the greatest person in the world.” She glanced up, shaking her head in pure awe. “It’s dangerous how sweet he is.”

Beau snorted. “Careful, Em. You sound like you’re about to steal him.”

Emily sighed dramatically, cradling Caleb a little closer. “I just might.”

Y/N chuckled, rubbing Emily’s back. “Welcome to the club.”

Margaret walked into the room, hands on her hips. “I told you he was perfect.”

Emily rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah, okay—you win.”

Beau smirked, leaning against the couch. “So, lemme get this straight—you survived a full day with a baby, and now you’re thinkin’ about gettin’ one of your own?”

Emily snorted. “Oh, no way. I’m happy borrowing this one for now.” She grinned down at Caleb, brushing her thumb across his tiny cheek. “But yeah… I get it now.”

Y/N smiled, glancing over at Beau, who was watching his daughter with nothing but pride.

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “First, Eliza claims you, and now Caleb? What’s next—you takin’ Grandma out for spa days?”

Margaret lifted her chin. “Well, now that you mention it—”

Beau held up a hand. “Nope. Not entertainin’ that.”

Y/N laughed, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around Beau’s waist. “Face it, honey. Emily’s one of us now.”

Beau exhaled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s hair. “Guess I can live with that.”

Emily smirked. “Gee, thanks, Dad.”

Beau chuckled, nudging her playfully. “Anytime, kid.”

The house had settled into its quiet nighttime rhythm.

Beau was standing at the dresser, pulling his shirt over his head, while Y/N was already in bed, fluffing the pillows and stretching out with a contented sigh. The warmth of the day still lingered, and the comfort of being home, together, made everything feel right.

Beau was just about to climb in beside her when a soft knock sounded at the door.

He and Y/N exchanged a glance before he stepped over, pulling it open to find Emily standing there, arms crossed, shifting slightly on her feet.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, voice soft but attentive.

“Hey,” Emily said, her voice quieter than usual. She hesitated, glancing past him at Y/N. “Can I talk to you? Just… you?”

Beau frowned slightly but nodded. “Of course.” He turned back to Y/N, touching her arm. “I’ll be back.”

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. “Take your time.”

Emily led him down the hallway to the guest room where she was staying. The small lamp on the nightstand cast a soft glow across the room. Her suitcase was half-unpacked in the corner, her shoes kicked off by the foot of the bed.

She sat down first, twisting her fingers in her lap. There was a hesitation in the way she moved, like she wasn’t quite sure how to say what was on her mind.

Beau sat beside her, leaning forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “What’s on your mind, Em?”

Emily exhaled, shifting slightly. “I don’t really know how to say it. It’s… kinda stupid.”

Beau arched a brow. “Doubt that.”

She gave a small, nervous laugh, then looked down at her hands. “I love them,” she admitted softly. “Eliza. Caleb. I love being their big sister.”

Beau smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. “I know you do.”

Emily nodded, but then she hesitated, her fingers still twisting together. “But… is it okay if I feel sad, too?”

Beau’s brow furrowed. “Sad?”

Emily swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never had this growing up. I never had siblings. And I didn’t know what I was missing, but now that I do…” She trailed off, struggling to find the words. “I wish I had this back then. And I know that’s not fair to you, because I know you and Mom loved me so much—but part of me still wishes I had this when I was little.”

Beau’s chest ached.

He reached over, gripping her hand gently. “Sweetheart…”

Emily sniffled, shaking her head. “I don’t want you to feel bad, Dad. It’s not that I wasn’t happy—I was. It’s just… different now. And I love it so much that I wish I had it before.” She exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry if that hurts.”

Beau squeezed her hand, his voice steady. “Em, you never have to apologize for feelin’ what you feel.”

She glanced at him, hesitant.

Beau took a slow breath before continuing, “I get it, sweetheart. I really do. You had me and your mama, and I know we did our best to love you as much as possible, but I know that’s not the same as havin’ siblings.” He smiled softly. “And the fact that you love Eliza and Caleb so much that you wish you had them sooner? That ain’t a bad thing. That just means you’re a damn good big sister.”

Emily let out a quiet, breathy laugh. “You think so?”

Beau smiled. “I know so.”

She smiled, sniffling slightly before squeezing his hand. “Thanks, Dad.”

Beau leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

Emily sighed, relaxing slightly. “I really do love them, you know.”

Beau chuckled. “Oh, I know. Pretty sure Eliza’s never letting you leave.”

Emily laughed, wiping at her eyes. “Yeah. I’m starting to think she’s attached.”

Beau grinned, pulling her into a side hug. “Good. ‘Cause you’re stuck with us now.”

Emily smiled against his shoulder, hugging him back. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The house was silent except for the soft hum of the night settling around them.

Beau quietly made his way back to the bedroom, stepping inside and closing the door gently behind him. Y/N was still awake, lying on her side beneath the covers, her eyes heavy with sleep but filled with quiet concern.

She shifted slightly, propping herself up on her elbow as Beau peeled off his shirt, sighing before running a hand through his hair. “Everything okay with Emily?” she asked softly.

Beau nodded, but there was something distant in his expression. He slipped into bed beside her, exhaling as he leaned back against the pillows. “Yeah,” he murmured. “She just… needed to talk.”

Y/N studied him for a moment, reaching over to run her fingers lightly over his chest. “About what?”

Beau let out a slow breath. “She loves Eliza and Caleb. She loves being their big sister. But she told me she was sad she didn’t have siblings growing up.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful. “She didn’t even know what she was missing until now.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed.

Beau rubbed his hand over his face. “I hate that I couldn’t give her that.”

Y/N shifted closer, sliding her hand up to his jaw, coaxing him to look at her. “Beau,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth. “Emily grew up so loved.”

Beau swallowed, his green eyes dark with emotion. “I know. But I keep thinkin’… maybe if Carla and I had worked out, if things had been different…”

Y/N shook her head gently. “You and Carla gave Emily everything you could. You were a damn good father to her, Beau. And you still are.”

Beau exhaled, his hand coming to rest over hers, pressing it against his chest. “It just… made me think, you know?”

Y/N smiled softly. “Emily isn’t mourning her childhood. She’s just realizing something new. And instead of being bitter, instead of pulling away, she’s embracing it. She’s here, she’s loving her siblings, and she’s so happy.”

Beau closed his eyes briefly, nodding. “Yeah,” he murmured. “She is.”

Y/N traced her fingers along his jawline, then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “That’s because of you.”

Beau let out a slow breath, pulling her into his arms. “Damn, I love you, woman.”

Y/N smiled against his skin. “I know.”

She kissed him again, slow and lingering, her fingers curling into his hair.

Beau sighed into her mouth, letting himself sink into the warmth of her touch. He hadn’t even realized how much he needed this—her comfort, her presence, her love.

Y/N shifted, straddling his waist, her hands splayed across his chest. “You know what else I know?” she murmured, her lips grazing against his jaw.

Beau smirked. “What’s that, darlin’?”

Y/N kissed him again, deeper this time, pressing her body fully against his. “You need to be thoroughly reminded of how good of a man you are.”

Beau groaned, his grip tightening around her waist. “That right?”

She hummed, nipping lightly at his bottom lip. “Mmhmm.”

Beau flipped them easily, settling between her legs, his lips moving along her neck, down to her collarbone. “Y’know, I was feelin’ a little down,” he murmured against her skin.

Y/N giggled, arching into him. “Let me fix that.”

Beau grinned before kissing her breathless, letting her take away every doubt, every weight he carried—until all that was left was them.

Together.

Always.

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lemotmo · 2 days ago

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I have never sent you one of these before so I hope I did it correctly. I found this very helpful because I also don't always understand the nuance or subtlety of a scene. Glad to know it's not just me.

Q. I'm not sure if you can even do this but I have autism and I struggle immensely with understanding subtext, framing, sarcasm and anything else really that I'm supposed to be able to pick up on in media. The direct dialogue or action in a scene tends to be what I take as fact. I understand that's not the case and things are always there that aren't being spoken or directly stated. Can you try to explain the Buddie stuff that points to them going canon? I want it but I don't know how to spot those clues. Does this even make sense? Please feel free to ignore this if it's not something that's explainable.

A. Hi, anon. Your question makes perfect sense and I am more than willing to try and see if I can explain or offer some context into some of the scenes. I have a friend who has Asperger's and he struggles with all these things as well so we try to explain things to him as often as he needs. For the sake of length, and not wanting to make this thread too long to keep up with, I will relegate my examples to a few things from seasons 7 and 8 only. Otherwise we would be here all day. I will start with episode 7x4 because that's the episode that is most widely misinterpreted.

As everyone now knows the episode ended with Tommy kissing Buck, keep in mind that we had spent the entirety of the episode up to that point watching Buck apparently being jealous because Eddie was spending time with another guy. The direct dialogue of the scene leading up to the kiss, when Buck tells Tommy that trying to get his attention had been exhausting, is the argument people use to show that the episode was really about Tommy. But Tommy himself doesn't believe that. The audience sees Tommy surprised by that statement, because he was also aware Buck was bothered by Eddie spending time with him, but he clearly thought Buck was bothered for the same reason the audience thought Buck was bothered, because he wasn't the one Eddie was spending time with. That's why Tommy responds with a confused/surprised "Me"? The episode played very much like Buck was jealous of Tommy NOT Eddie. The most obvious example of this was the scene in the firehouse when Eddie is on the phone in the locker room and Buck is trying to get his attention while working out. The show never tells us who Eddie is actually talking too. We don't know who's on the other end of the conversation, neither does Buck. The only thing Buck sees is Eddie laughing and having a good time while ignoring him. Tommy wasn't at the firehouse so he was never going to see Buck trying to show off around the weight room and Amazon priming a basketball to himself so he could pretend he was interested in something he knew Eddie was interested in. The other interesting thing about that episode was the way Eddie was framed, in other words shot and filmed, throughout. He was consistently lit in golden/sunlight, colors associated with warmth and happiness/joy. Tim made a point of telling everyone that the episode was from Buck's perspective which means that's how Buck sees Eddie. Buck associates Eddie with happiness and warmth and joy. The joy theme is important to remember because it comes back into play during season 8. I'm not in any way suggesting that once Buck became aware of his male attraction that he didn't find Tommy attractive, he clearly did in some capacity. But it is not out of character for Buck to over correct himself in the wrong direction. Both times he asked his partners to move in with him were direct results of his belief that he needed to make up for some wrong he had done to them. He asked Taylor to move in with him after he kissed Lucy and he asked Tommy to move in with him after his reaction to the Abby news, and Josh's speech about what they owed the older queer community. Josh said many things in that speech, a speech I did not love, but he said many things and it was telling that the only part of that speech that seemed to register with Buck where Tommy was concerned was the part about what they owed to the community that came before them. It was wrong to ask on both occasions. Taylor said yes. Tommy said no. We will get back to the Tommy one shortly but those are perfect examples of Buck over correcting himself in the wrong direction in order to avoid dealing with the actual issues.

When we arrive at season 8 we get the scene of Buck hearing all the different noise and static in his head when he's trying to calm himself down while Gerard is yelling. The only voice that is clear and audible for the audience is Eddie's voice. Eddie's voice is the one used to calm and recenter Buck. It was an intentional choice to make it Eddie's voice. not his boyfriends voice but Eddie's voice. Episode 8x6 was the biggie though. The episode is titled Confessions. It was the only episode of the season so far where Buck and Eddie didn't say a single word to one another, but I'll come back to that. Eddie was the focus of that episode, it is important to note that episodes 7x4 and 8x6 were directed by the same man. It was intentional on the show's part for these two episodes to sync in some capacity. They have kept the Buck storyline and the Eddie storyline linked since the beginning of season 7. Their storylines are connected. We see Eddie at the juice bar pick up a bottle of juice and hand it to the cashier. He changes his mind though and swaps it out for a bottle of water (a good note to have here is that in the first episode when the crew is running the stairs Buck is holding a bottle of juice, not water, once they make it to the roof). Father Brian watches this interaction and decides he wants to talk to Eddie. We then see Eddie sitting outside at a table, with plenty of empty tables around him, but Father Brian asked if he could join him anyway. Father Brian attempts small talk, and Eddie, unprompted, tells him, 'sorry, I'm straight'. This is not something television has straight characters do. It's not necessary to declare your heterosexuality. In fact it is far more common for television to use dialogue like that to foreshadow a sexuality realization for that character. It is a very common beginning to a sexuality arc. Father Brian then wants to know why Eddie swapped his juice for the water. Eddie tells him he felt like water instead and Father Brian then equates Eddie denying himself the juice as a way of denying himself joy. He tells Eddie that he's punishing himself. Then they talk about why Eddie has the mustache. Eddie tells him he wanted a full beard but the LAFD doesn't allow full beards. A very interesting conversation indeed for a character who has just explicitly stated that he's straight. We all know the term 'beard' and its history within the queer community. Father Brian then tells Eddie to do one thing that brings him joy. That entire scene was written like foreshadowing. I will skip ahead now to Buck and Tommy's break up. Tommy explains to Buck that at some point he is going to figure out what it is that he really wants and even though he won't mean to, he will hurt Tommy once he figures that out. Tommy has known since 7x4 that something is there for Buck where Eddie is concerned. But he also knows Buck is not ready for that realization yet. He makes a point of telling Buck that he's his first not his last. They also made a point of having Buck say sometimes those can be the same, meaning your first can be your last. Tommy says sometimes that can be true but not most of the time. Meaning there is an exception to that rule. The right person can be your first and your last. Tommy was not the right person. Fast forward to Eddie shaving off his mustache and doing his risky business dance.

Buck goes to Eddie following the breakup. Eddie answers the door in his underwear and he and Buck do not speak. Buck holds up a beer bottle and walks in. They don't talk. They sit on the couch in silence drinking their beers. That is the final shot of the episode. An episode entitled Confessions, and the only episode of the season where Buck and Eddie don't say a single word to one another. Again the framing of that scene is also important because of what surrounds them in the scene. Buck and Eddie are on the couch. It's right it's where they belong but the timing is not right. The blurry picture of Christopher between them on the table behind them is intentional. Christopher is missing from their little unit. Then there's the picture of Texas on the wall behind Eddie. Texas, and everything it represents for Eddie, looms over them. Those are the obstacles that have to be dealt with first. They existed in that shot because Buck, and especially Eddie, cannot escape them. They have to be dealt with and fixed first. They didn't talk because they have things they need to do first.

The last shot of the mid season finale being Buck sitting alone on the Diaz couch was also foreshadowing. Eddie is going to Texas. Yes, that scene also indicated that Buck is finally at a place where he won't be able to ignore or misinterpret his feelings for Eddie any longer. Eddie isn't there yet. Texas has to be dealt with first. Therefore Eddie couldn't be physically on the couch with him in that scene because Eddie has to leave first. Eddie has to be the one person who leaves Buck and chooses to come back to Buck.

I hope this made sense, anon. It was still longer than I anticipated. Please feel free to ask me anything at any time. I am more than happy to try and explain something as best as I can, if I can. I have no idea if this was helpful but I hope you were able to get something out of it. 🩷

Thank you Nonny! This is lovely!

Such a great breakdown of the overarching Buddie storyline for Buck and Eddie. Such a great resource for people who have trouble recognising subtext and nuance in a storyline.

I am going to add my own breakdown of the entire last Buddie scene of episode 8x08. Right after it aired someone with autism contacted me with the question if I could break that specific scene down for them.

You can find it here: breakdown of 8x08 final Buddie scene

If anyone ever needs more help in this department, feel free to send an ask. Just like Ali, I'd be happy to try and explain what the viewer is meant to take away from a scene.

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #buddie #911 abc episode breakdown #season 8 episode breakdown #buddie scene breakdown #nonnies galore

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