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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 2 years

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It’s Been a Long, Long Time ❥

Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re the school nurse at Sarah’s middle school and you’re volunteered to chaperone the school dance alongside her father, Joel Miller. After some other teachers upset you there, he makes a point of showing you how he feels while also teaching those assholes a lesson.

A/N: okay so i know i just wrote one but you guys were so sweet in the notes :) *sobbing* and im obsessed with him so another Joel Miller fic for you, this one’s more fluffy tho here’s a sweet, smutty one, inspired by that one scene in “The Lost Husband” YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT, enjoy and feedback as always is appreciated >~< i cant stop writing him PREPARED TO BE SICK O’ ME

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, cheesy, just absolute fuckin fluff, mentions of death, months pre-outbreak, language, reader is insulted, slight angst, mentions of alcohol, slight age gap, reader has panic attack, public making out, jealous!reader, Joel loves his pet names, he talks you through it, oral f! receiving, p in v, praise, unprotected sex, y’all it’s a lot

You sip on your mug full of sugary coffee and rub your temple, tired from a night of little sleep. That’s when Sarah Miller, your favorite student, patient, and professional instigator, strides through your office doors with a big smile on her face.

You open up your snack drawer with an affectionate roll of your eyes, grab a pack of skittles, and throw it her way.

She catches it mid-air and sits down on the bed by your door, kicking her feet while she pops only the red ones into her mouth.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days, hun,” you breathe a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” she sighs, still grinning. “I’m on my lunch break and I finished it fast so I could come see you.”

You smile softly behind the rim of your mug, “Well, I’m glad to see you. What is it that you’re smiling so much about?”

“Awe,” she points to your mug. “You’re using the mug I got you.”

You look at the front of the mug, the words, “World’s Greatest Grandma”, on the front of if it with the word Grandma scratched out with a wash-proof marker and replaced with “Nurse”. She claimed she couldn’t find one that said what she wanted so she had to get creative. It makes you laugh every time you pick it up.

“It’s my most prized possession,” you nod, matching her expression. “Now answer my question.”

She leans forward, having finished off all the red skittles, and hands it back to you so you can eat the rest.

She says it in one, hyperactive breath, “I got my dad to volunteer at the school dance!”

You choke a bit on your coffee.

Setting down the bag of skittles and your mug, you look up at her and chuckling, “Why would you want to do that? Don’t most kids want their parents far away from their homecoming?”

She shakes her head like you’re not getting what she’s saying, exasperated, “I invited him for you, Nurse y/n.”

“I- Why would you-” you let out a nervous laugh before pulling yourself together. “Sarah. Why would you invite him for me, sweetheart?”

“Because you like him,” she props her head up against the wall behind her, a sly little smirk on her lips. She crosses her legs. “Obviously.”

You sip your coffee, a small scoff leaving you, “I don’t have a crush on your father, Ms. Miller. Since when do you play matchmaker, huh?”

“Since he asks about you like all the time,” she groans. “I told him that you’re coming and he basically dropped everything to come.”

Heat blooms in your face but you clear your throat and feign nonchalance despite it. It would be incredibly unprofessional for you to have a juvenile, little crush on a student’s father. Even if he is incredibly handsome, sweet, charming, funny, and a wonderful, single father to his little girl who you also have a soft spot for.

But you do and you’re convinced it’s a bit bigger than a little one. You don’t act on it though because you’ve kidded yourself into thinking it would go away, wither from neglect like a dying plant with no sun. However, that hasn’t worked out very well so far.

Sarah doesn’t miss the flush in cheeks and the small smile you dawn before maintaining your composure once again. She decides to hold onto this information instead of call you out because she’s nothing if not devious. She’s very observant for a 14 year old, you’re sure she gets it from her sharp father.

He doesn’t let anything get past him, like hair in your face that he pushes away for you, a fallen eyelash on your cheek, your shoelace undone, your ponytail getting loose and about to fall out, and whatever else. It’s been almost an entire school year of this, going on field trips, meetings, him picking Sarah up from school when she’s sick (whether she fakes it or not), and around your shared neighborhood because even if it was big in Austin, Texas, he made it feel so damn small.

And now Sarah says this and you can’t contain your excitement. But also your nerves were shot, you haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. It scares the hell out of you.

“I’m not volunteering,” you laugh. “Why’d you lie to him?”

“Because I’m going to convince you to come,” she raises her eyebrows. “Please, please, please, please!” she clasps her hands together. “I’ll buy you all the skittles you want, I’ll take the red ones out of all of them for you, too!”

“What if I’m busy?”

“I know you’re not.”

You gasp, “Rude, Sarah! I should write you up for that,” you tease.

She smiles, “Come on, you can come and wear a pretty dress, drink punch, and eat free food. What’s not to like?”

“The bitchy moms and other teachers, for one thing-” you put a hand over your mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I shouldn’t have said that,” you chuckle, embarrassed, with your face in your hands.

She waves you off, “My father cusses like a sailor and I won’t tell. I don’t like anyone that works here besides you, anyway.”

“Well, now I feel like I have to,” you relent with a sigh, mulling it over. She was right in that you didn’t have anything to do, so what was the risk here?

She looks at you expectantly, mustering up puppy dog eyes to persuade you.

“If I go... no teasing me and your dad. He and I are just good friends,” you say, which is at least half true. “We enjoy each other’s company, nothing more.”

“Uh-huh,” she says in a sing-song, knowing voice, fingers crossed behind her back. “Sure, Nurse y/n. I promise.”

“I’m serious,” you point at her, taking the last sip of your coffee just as the class bell rings. “Now get out of here and go to math.”

She groans in protest but hops down from the table anyway and fakes being dizzy, “What if I have a fever?” She coughs.

“Then walk it off,” you chuckle, knowing she’s lying. “See you tonight, Sarah.”

She grins widely, waving, running out, “Bye! Dad and Nurse Y/n sitting in a tree-”

“Sarah!”

~~~

Walking into the schools’ gymnasium, you’re almost shaking with nerves when you walk in. You feel like a teenager again, anxious and waiting for someone to ask you to dance.

You slipped on a black slip dress with white trim at the ends and the sweetheart neckline, it hugs your body nicely and accentuates curves, dips, and makes your skin glow with a red sweater that hits at your waist and matches your red, strappy heels. Your hair is pulled back with barrettes to show off your makeup and fresh curls.

The dance has already started thirty minutes ago, so everyone’s already dancing and having fun to the child-friendly music that the DJ spins for the room. You pick up a red solo cup filled with crappy fruit punch and spot Sarah in the crowd with a few of her friends.

She waves enthusiastically in your direction before running over to you and hugging your side. “You look so pretty, Nurse Y/n!”

“Thank you, sweetheart. So do you!” you hug her back, trying the punch and wincing at the off-taste. “Tonight, you can just call me Y/n, if you want.”

She smiles, glowing at your arrival, “My dad’s over there talking to another parent. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

You look up when she says this and meet his eyes from across the room, which means he was already looking. Joel Miller cracks a lopsided smile at you, excuses himself from his conversation with a pestering mom, and crosses the room to the two of you.

He’s wearing a red flannel shirt, rolled up on his burly forearms, tucked into a pair of dark jeans with a black belt holding the pants up. His hair is slightly wet from a shower, you presume, and he smells of aftershave and smoke and cedar wood. He looks so good, standing in front of you with those all-encompassing brown eyes, you think you might cry.

Those said eyes fall over you, and admire your dress, your hair, your everything. He looks down at his daughter, watching you both with avid attention.

“Don’t you have friends to get back to, chick?” he cocks an eyebrow down at his scheming daughter.

She rolls her eyes, smoothing out her blue dress. Her hair is braided into a bun at the back of her head, matching teal flowers pinned in her curls. “Okay, dad. Have fun!”

She races back to her group of friends and leaves you and Joel alone, two awkward adults who feel like kids again.

“You did her hair tonight?” you smile softly, gushing a bit now. “It looks so nice.”

He flushes and scratches the back of his neck, “Thank you. I tried my best, she did most of it. I just wanted tonight to be perfect for her. She forced me to come, though.”

“She got me, too,” you tilt your head, biting back a grin. “She should be a lawyer when she grows up, this kid.”

He looks out at her dancing with her friends and smiles fondly, “She would be great.” His eyes fall back down to you, “You look beautiful... by the way.”

You beam, “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, too, Joel.”

A blush spreads across his nose and cheeks, “Thanks. I was worried it was too simple and that I should have worn a suit... I didn’t know if it was nice enough to-”

You place your hand on his arm to stop his rambling, “You look great. Seriously. Don’t worry, all the moms and teachers will still drool over you.”

He pinches his brow when he stares down at you. You get the sudden urge to smooth out the small wrinkle between his eyebrows, ease his tensions.

“Really?” he pins you down with his stare, but his dark eyes are glittering with amusement. “You’re way off base, sweetheart, I promise you. None of them think of me like that.”

You ignore the heat blooming in your chest at the nickname, he used it often but it never failed to make your brain short-circuit, “They all talk about you.”

He raises his eyebrows, “You’re joking.”

Jealousy swirls in your belly at the thought of these women and the things you’ve heard around school, but you pull it together with a quick tilt of your head, “I’m not laughing, am I?”

He notices your jaw clench a bit and how you gulped before speaking, logging the observations for later, “How do you notice?”

“How do you not!” you say, moving to his side and unintentionally brushing your arm against his. He shivers. “It’s obvious. It’s hard not to.”

His eyes linger on your lips before glancing back up your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been distracted.”

You grow flustered under his gaze and look ahead, stammering, “Yeah... maybe. And well... Sarah tells me that they ask her about your life in the pickup line after school. So it’s proving to be borderline obsession,” you laugh.

He smiles softly, seeing past your nerves, “Poor Sarah. She must love that,” he says dryly.

“Sarah might say some choice words about them,” you shrug your shoulders. “She’s fine, though. I probably shouldn’t have told you, we tend to share secrets,” you look at him, filled with care for his daughter, for him.

“She adores you,” he says sincerely and you can tell by the warmth in his tone that he means it and appreciates it. “You’ve quickly become one of her favorite people within a little over half a school year. Tommy thinks you’re great too, from the few interactions you’ve had when he picks her up sometimes.”

You grin and his chest seizes at the light that exudes from your sweet expression, “Tommy’s a wonderful uncle. Good brother too. He talks about you often.”

“Oh yeah?” he looks at you, his voice sends shivers straight through you. “And what does he say?”

“Can’t betray a friend’s trust,” you shake your head, teasing.

He discreetly shows you his flask of whiskey, “Not even if I let you drink from my emergency flask?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one thing,” you hold up a finger and he slips you the flask, cracking a dazzling smile, while you turn around and take a long sip. The DJ transitions the E.D.M to a slow song, something sweet and best to sway to.

He takes a long sip himself and tucks it away in his pocket again, holding out his hand to you, “Do you want to tell me while we dance, darlin?”

You look around the room, your boss nowhere in sight. There was technically no rule against dating a student’s parent, but you didn’t want the judgement. You knew the people around here talked and there would be rumors, shaming. But he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room, putting himself out on a limb just to ask you to dance.

It didn’t have to mean anything anyway, it could just be two friends sharing a dance. You’ve danced with friends. It’s the same thing. Your internal monologue was racing a mile a minute.

“Are we allowed to? I mean, as chaperones.”

“We’re watching the students more closely.”

“Yeah, I just...” you pause, pinching your brow.

His face falls slightly. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he starts to pull his hand away. “It’s really no-”

You put your hand in his, “I’d love to dance with you, Joel.”

Warmth blooms in his handsome face and he pulls you into the crowd of dancing people. Joel pulls you gently towards him, placing his hands on your waist as you wrap your arms up and around his neck. You both try to keep your distance, make a good example for the kids, but it’s growing increasingly harder for him not to hold you close and kiss you right here in front of all these people.

You catch Sarah giggling excitedly at you both dancing, whispering with her friends. You roll your eyes with a small smile.

You look up at Joel, resisting the urge to lay your head against his chest, “You still want to know something Tommy said?”

“Desperately,” he laughs.

“He told me you said I’m pretty.”

Rosy color spreads across his nose, but his eyes are darkened, his lips part slightly, “I should’ve known he’d tell you.”

“So he’s telling the truth?”

His eyes soften, “Of course he is.”

“Well... thank you,” you flush, blood rushing to your face, making Joel smile. You feel like a schoolgirl again.

He chuckles, eyes searching your face, “You’re welcome.”

You tilt your head, “You’re pretty, too, Joel.”

He spins you as the song picks up a bit and pulls you back to him, your dress spinning as you do. He pulls you back against his chest, hands in against shirt and his around your waist. Warmth radiates from his broad chest, his hands are calloused even through the fabric of your slip dress, and your breath catches in your throat.

He doesn’t pay any mind to the stares he gets for doing it, but he lets his head drop to your shoulder, writing love letters in your skin when he lets out a breath. He says nothing about the compliment but he’s holding you closer, and that’s all he needs to do. A quiet understanding washes over the two of you in that moment.

Joel’s always been the strong and silent type, but the longer the two of you have known one another, the closer you get, he’s begun to let more things slip. He begins to ramble, his nerves making an appearance when he’s near you, a teenager again. Then there are times like now when his actions do all the talking for him and neither of you need to comment on it.

Then there are others when he won’t shut the fuck up.

“People are looking,” you whisper.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“...No.”

“Then why do you care what they think?”

There’s a beat of silence before you sigh out the three words, “I don’t know.”

“We’re not Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey over here, the kids will be fine,” he teases. Then he lifts his head to bring your joined hands up to his side, moving you to the changed song with the more upbeat tempo.

You snort, “Wouldn’t that be something.”

“If we were somewhere else...” he muses, looking at you to gauge your reaction.

You meet his eyes, your own crinkling with amusement, “You’d do the lift?”

He throws his head back with a thunderous laugh, “I’d try for you.”

“Think I’m too heavy?”

“God, no,” he spins the two of you, dodging a pair of kids dancing. “I’m just old.”

“You’re like 35, Joel.”

“You’re only 27, you don’t get it yet,” he whispers into the side of your hair and you laugh, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the judgmental moms and teachers.

Joel Miller had a talent of making you feel like the only person in the room.

The song ends and you feel out of breath just from being this close to him. You step away from him and smile softly, “I gotta run to the restroom. I’ll be back.”

His eyes sweep over you, then he nods, “Okay.”

“What?” you grin. “No dad joke about not falling in?”

“I’m classy Joel tonight,” he chuckles. “No bathroom jokes.”

You shake your head with a laugh as you walk back towards the restrooms. Stepping inside, you move to stand in front of the mirror and grab your lipstick from your bag, fixing up your makeup. You try to calm your nerves, hands shaking when you bring the golden tube to your lips.

After taking a deep breath, your mind begins to wander about how his hands felt on your skin and how he thinks you’re pretty. The thoughts fill your head and litter your skin with goosebumps.

You don’t usually like being the center of attention, but with Joel around you, it was hard not to be. And you couldn’t say you minded it.

A few other women walk through the door and you recognize them to be Bethany, Sarah’s rude math teacher, Cara, a mom who gives you trouble constantly, and Kristina, another mom who thinks Joel is hot and constantly asks Sarah questions about him.

“Hey, y/n!” Bethany draws out in a sing-song, forced way that sends a chill through your body. “Saw you out dancing with Mr. Miller. Ain’t y’all cute?”

You look at her blankly in your reflection and she clears her throat.

“Adorable,” Cara’s shark eyes roam you over in the mirror, making you feel small as you fix your foundation. You don’t let it show though, you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.

“Such a shame about Joel’s wife,” Kristina hums, putting on her own bright pink lipstick. “Wonder if he’s still looking for a stepmom for sweet little Sarah.”

The three of them laugh together and you feel your blood pressure quickly rise. Three wild vultures circling a carcass, kicking it while it’s down.

“Can we not tonight, ladies?” you turn around to look at them. “Let’s just forget this and have fun.”

“What do you mean, dear? This is fun,” Bethany blinks her stark, blue eyes, red lips curling. “This must be a lot for her though, girls. She’s probably having a rough time considering what happened to her.”

You freeze.

“Oh yeah...” Cara finishes her makeup and frowns at you. “I remember hearing your fiancee passed away before you came here, how sad.”

Your blood runs cold, sirens going off in your head, and a pounding begins in your skull. No one’s brought up Rick since you’ve gotten here, you’ve dodged the questions from the nosy parents, the gossiping neighbors, and the rude coworkers. You don’t know how they figured it out, and now you feel it, being back in the car with Rick the night that it happened.

Joel and Sarah didn’t even know, you had pushed it to the back of your mind so you would never find it again. Now it’s coming back like a wave, full force, and pulling you under the current until you’re drowning.

“Then you moved here to Austin in July,” Kristina slits her eyes at you and cocks her head to the side. “Now you’re trying to get back out there with Joel, huh? Like you’d really have a chance with him.”

She looks in your direction and it’s as if she sees right through you, past your carefully created facade and into your core, that sad, broken girl with no family left and nowhere to go.

Your eyes fill with hot tears, you want to run away, but you can’t move. You’re frozen, feet glued to the linoleum tile.

“I knew Rick... your fiancee,” Bethany says. “He was so sweet. We went to college together.”

“So sweet,” Cara looks at you and flashes another sickly sweet smile.

You inhale sharply, tears falling down your face. You hastily wipe it away, “I... I gotta go.”

You grab your purse off the counter and rush out of the door, slamming into a hard chest and a pair of hands that fly to catch you by the waist.

Joel stares down at you, grounding you, and your eyes begin to brim with tears, “What’s wrong, sugar? What happened?”

The words tumble out of you, wiping away the tears that slip out while you ramble on, “Nothing, I just... the women in there, they’re horrible, they hate me, and they make me feel like shit. They brought up Rick and they think you’re hot and they think we’re dating and I just wanna go. I’m just gonna go home-”

He looks over your head at three women leaving the bathroom, waving in his direction.

Joel looks back down at you before tucking his fingers into the straps of your dress and pulling you into a searing kiss. Your inhale sharply when his soft lips meet yours, and your hands grip onto his flannel shirt, sighing into his mouth. He slips his hands up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you more completely, unraveling you in his capable hands.

Bethany stares at you wide eyed, getting the other girls attention, all jaws dropped in utter shock at the image before them.

His tongue dances with yours as he moves his lips expertly, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheekbone as he coaxes your lips open. He hums small praises while tracing shapes into your skin. You let a small noise slip past you, unable to contain how good he’s making you feel, swallowing your sadness and helping you breathe again.

He groans as he forces himself to pull away from you, struggling not to kiss you again. Forgetting you’re not alone.

Joel’s hands slip down to rest on your shoulders, lips flushed and swollen from the kiss, voice gravelly, “I hate terrible people.”

You look at him, mouth parted, lipstick probably smudged. He licks his lips before glaring at back at the women before they scoff and walk away, muttering under their breath.

Neither of you get the time to speak of it before Sarah is running down the hallway, after hearing the commotion. You and Joel split apart when she comes up, and she’s smiling widely.

“Kelsey asked if I could sleepover, can I go get my stuff at the house and go to her place? Pretty please,” she begs her dad, clasping her hands together.

He tears his eyes away from you and nods, smiling, “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll head home and I’ll walk you there.”

Sarah grins happily before looking up at you. “Everything okay, y/n?”

You force a smile and fix a flower falling out of her hair, “Yeah, I’m good. And I think I’m ready to go, too.”

“Do you need a ride?” Joel asks. “I know you walked here cause we all live so close, but I don’t want you walkin’ home in the dark. Also Sarah’s got control of the radio on the way back,” he offers you a grin. “She’s got good taste.”

“We’re listening to 80′s hits,” Sarah nods, taking her job very seriously.

You nod, feeling better just by being near the two of them. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

~~~

“Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears is blaring through Joel’s truck and you’re humming under your breath while Sarah is screaming it in the backseat. Joel laughs at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

Grieving your boyfriend’s death has been something you’ve pushed aside for a long time. You knew these women could be catty, but you never thought they’d be downright cruel to you, bringing up Rick the way they did. Looking out the window, you think back to the moment you felt frozen in that bathroom, unable to speak or move. You feel embarrassed for not standing up for yourself, blaming yourself instead of them and their hateful words.

Joel notices your faraway expression and rests his hand on your thigh in a way so Sarah can’t see. He rubs his thumb over your bare skin and it both calms and excites you, heat rushing to the apex of your legs.

You let out a small sigh and lean back into the chair, resting your hand on top of his. He has to rip his eyes off of you, willing himself to ignore your pleased exhales if he was going to drive properly.

He pulls the car into the driveway one-handed and comes to a stop, turning around to talk to Sarah, “Go grab your stuff, chick, and we’ll go to Kelsey’s.”

She nods and hops out, running towards the house.

Joel turns to you, hand still on your leg, clearly nervous, “Do you want... do you want to come inside? I have wine and some clothes you can put on, if you want something more comfortable.”

You search his set features for confirmation, “You sure? I can just walk next door to my house, I don’t wanna put you out-”

“Y/n...” he stops you. “You should know by now that if I say something I mean it, I promise you.”

You didn’t know if it was a good idea being with him alone like this, but you honestly didn’t want to be by yourself right now.

You relent with a nod, “Alright. You had your chance to change your mind,” you flash a sneaky smile.

The two of you step out of the car and head into his house. Sarah’s already tumbling down the stairs, changed into pajamas with a packed bag slung over her shoulder, “Ready to go when you are.”

“Damn, you got ready fast, kid,” he laughs despite himself. “Let’s go.”

Sarah runs up and hugs your side, “Bye, y/n!”

“Have fun with Kelsey, be safe, okay?” you squeeze her shoulder.

Joel whispers to you as they walk to the door, “There’s shirts upstairs and some shorts you can borrow. Make yourself at home, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile softly.

They head out and leave you alone in the dimly lit house. You exhale slowly and head up the stairs to go to his room. You look around at the messy bedroom, one king size bed with blue covers, and minimal decorations. It felt like him, smelled like him, cedar and oak and smoke. You open one of his drawers to grab one of his big tee shirts from work, and a pair of baggy gym shorts.

You slip out of your dress, let down your hair, and set your red shawl down on top of it. You tug on the big tee shirt and pull on the gym shorts. As much as you had liked that dress, you feel like you can finally breathe now, much more comfortable in your sleepwear now. The clothes smelled of him, too, and it filled your chest with heat, a red glow pouring out of you.

You’re in Joel Millers room... wearing his clothes.

You can’t help but look around at the photos of Sarah and him in framed photos, some hung on the wall and others propped up on his drawers. There’s one photo that catches your eye in particular, though, the side of it folded in and tucked into the frame. It’s Joel smiling down at Sarah, just a baby in his arms, and there’s a part of the photograph hidden. But you spot a glimpse of a yellow dress in the corner, the rest of it hidden away.

You wonder if it’s Sarah’s mom. You don’t know much about her, just that Sarah says she never got to know her, and hardly remembers anything about her. It broke your heart hearing that, wishing she could have, but also selfishly wanting to be that person for her.

“Found what you needed?”

You jump at Joel’s sudden presence in the room and turn around to him. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I-”

He smirks and it feels like a lit match to your insides, “I know, darlin. Nothing to be sorry about.”

His eyes trail over you in his clothes, your arms folded under your chest, “You look good in my clothes, sweetheart. Better than I do, that’s for sure.”

You smile, “Thank you. And thanks for letting me borrow them. I feel better.”

He pinches his brow together, “Do you want to talk to me more about what happened? We don’t have to, but just know I’m here.”

You take a step towards him, “I know, I just haven’t talked about him in a long time.”

“Him?” his eyebrows raise.

You laugh at his shock, moving past him so he follows you downstairs, “Down, boy. I’m single, wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I wasn’t.”

He blushes. “Well, then, what about him?” he trails behind you to his kitchen. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

You love his Texan drawl and voice a bit too much, how deep and molasses like it was, how it coated you in sweetness and didn’t let up. Maybe it was because you weren’t from here and you weren’t used to it. But his was different and it affected you all the same.

“I might tell you,” you hop up on the countertop. “Over a glass of wine.”

Joel cracks a smile, happily obliging your request with one of his wine bottles, “I can do that.”

He pours you a glass of red and hands it to you, “So... who’s Rick?” He sips his own.

“My um... my ex fiancee,” you say, taking a long sip of your wine. “It feels weird calling him that...” you let out a dark laugh. “-since the two of us never ended it ourselves, it sounds wrong. But he uh-” your voice gets thick. “He died the beginning of last year.”

His face falls, genuinely on your behalf, wanting to wrap you in his arms, but also wanting to let you continue, “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

You’ve heard that more times than you can count from friends, family, and strangers alike, but from him, it’s one of the most sincere you’ve ever heard. You actually believe he truly cares and you wonder why you didn’t tell him sooner, maybe worried you’d scare him off. You wanted a fresh start in a place where no one knew Rick, where no one knew what happened.

“Thank you,” you sniff, mustering up a small, grateful smile before you continue. “It was New Year’s Eve. I didn’t know he had been drinking... he really seemed fine,” you recount like it was just yesterday that it happened.

“He didn’t see the ice on the roads,” you take another long sip, hands shaking again. You clear your throat, “I tried to help him, I thought we would be fine. But there was a bridge... and we went off. He got me out,” you blink the tears away, breathing out the words as if expelling them from your person. Like you wouldn’t have to hold onto them anymore. “He didn’t.”

“I’m alive because of him,” you inhale sharply, finally looking at Joel. “And he’s dead because I didn’t notice...”

He frowns, “It is absolutely not your fault, y/n. It’s a horrible thing that happened and it is not because of you.”

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and it breaks Joel’s heart a bit more and more, “I haven’t thought about it in so long. And they brought him up in the bathroom. I don’t know how they found out, I haven’t told a soul here.”

Protectiveness slips into his deep tone of voice as he steps towards you, it sends a shock through you, “What did they say about him?”

You shake your head, letting out a laugh, “It’s not important.”

“It is absolutely fucking important,” his eyes darken when he speaks to you, you’d never seen him so worked up before. “I’ll go to the damn superintendent if I have to, they’re grown ass adults. They shouldn’t use the death of your fiancee against you.”

You can’t help but let a smile slip through, “It’s cute how mad you are about this.”

He scoffs, mirroring your amused expression, “Believe me, I’ve dealt with the wolves before. They ask you inappropriate questions and dig into your personal life, pushing your boundaries like it’s nothing. No one can have any secrets around here.”

“Yeah,” you sniff. “I noticed that.”

There’s a beat of silence before he sighs and says quietly between the two of you, “When they found out about Sarah’s mom leaving her when she was a baby, they brought it up to her at a school picnic. Made her feel small. She ran home, crying her eyes out. I’d never seen her so upset. I was scared what I would do. It broke me.”

You nod in understanding, “That’s awful, Joel. I’m sorry. For you and for Sarah.”

“The next time they brought it up, Sarah asked Bethany why she’d been divorced six times. You should have seen the look on her face,” he laughs and you join him, throwing your head back at the mental image of Bethany’s pinched, angry face.

“Oh my god, I love Sarah so much,” you let your head fall into your hands, still laughing loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen.

“I was very proud,” he grinned.

“I’d hope so,” you tilt your head slightly. “She gets it from you. I wonder how she got that information about Bethany.”

“Beats me,” he smirks and you narrow your eyes affectionately in his direction. “Smart kid, that one.”

The two of you let the moment sink in for a bit in the silence. Joel’s standing between your legs now, hands on either side of your thigh, steadying himself. He searches your face like he did at the start of the evening, fingers itching to touch you again.

“Should we...” you finally say, pulling you both back into reality. “Should we talk about the kiss back there?”

“What’s there to talk about about?”

You frown, filling with a sense of dread that you’ve misread this entire night, “What do you mean?”

He jumps to fix what he said, hands falling to splay out on your thighs, “No, baby, wait not like that-” he sighs. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m out of practice with this, sweetheart-”

You press a kiss to his lips, causing him to abruptly cease his rambling. You tilt your head and pull away from hm after just a couple seconds. He leans against you even after you’re away from him, lips trying to follow you.

“I just meant...” you whisper with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes. “Like what does this mean? Because I haven’t done something like this since Rick and I’m trying not to feel guilty...”

“Guilty bout what?”

“For moving on.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for that,” he shakes his head, lowering his voice. “I understand if you’re not ready though. It took me awhile, to open again, I still haven’t completely... But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. And I know I’ve never met Rick, but I believe he’d want you to be happy. With whoever, even if it’s not me.”

Your heart cracks open at the sweetness of his words, splitting you in two right in front of him. You know you shouldn’t feel bad, even if you’ve moved on from loving Rick, a part of you will always mourn and have a place in your heart for him. You needed to realize there was more than enough room to let other people in too.

Your eyes soften, “You’re more out of practice than I thought if you think I’ve moved on with anyone else but you, Joel Miller.”

His eyes darken with something like raw desire and complete adoration, something like love that you haven’t seen in a long, long time. You don’t know if he’s been looking at you like this all along and if you’ve just now begun to notice.

Joel leans down to whisper to you, hand on your neck, thumb tucked under chin and other fingers on the side of your throat, squeezing just so. You dreamed of this, thought if he would be rough or sweet, when he was really a stunning, swirling mix of both.

“You were so jealous earlier,” his voice is wrecked in your ear, low and gravelly. “I thought I was just imagining it at first, but talking about those moms that think of me, you got so red. It was so sexy, sweetheart.”

You gasp a little, wanting to deny it, tease him. But who were you both kidding? You were jealous, and now there’s a warm satisfaction in the center of your chest at the fact they were wrong. Singing insults, saying he wouldn’t want you. Now you’re in his kitchen in the middle of the night wearing his shirt and he’s in between your legs, pressing against you.

“They said I didn’t have a chance with you,” you tangle you hands in his shirt, tugging him closer.

He shakes his head, eyes never leaving you, “I’m only yours, baby. Always have been.”

You all but pounce on him in that moment, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. He laughs just before you softly press your lips against his, the rumbling, beautiful sound vibrating against you. You’re tugging at each other almost immediately, his hands pulling and sliding up and down your waist while your arms wrap around his head. You fingers slide through his brunette curls, pleasantly humming at the satisfaction of knowing his hair is just as soft as you imagined, how even his rough hands feel gentle, and how his lips move with yours, slowly, languidly, painfully.

“You’re beautiful...” he kisses the words into your neck, repeating it over and over. “My beautiful, beautiful, girl.”

“Joel...” you sigh out and tilt your head back.

“Puts your arms around my neck, baby,” he whispers, arms pulling your legs up so they wrap around his torso. “What I want to do to you won’t work exactly on my kitchen counter.”

You quickly oblige him and he carries you up his stairs, your hands and lips never leaving each others. He stumbles while holding you, making you giggle into his shoulder, shrieking when he almost drops you.

“Was this the kind of lifting you had in mind with me tonight?” you smile softly into his skin.

He kicks open his bedroom door, “I’ve always had this in my mind, sweetheart.”

You both drop onto the bed, wanting to take this slow but also get to what you’ve both been wanting as soon as possible. He’s atop you, hands on either side of your head while you kiss like college students, handsy and messy and surprisingly amazing. How fast you two fit together, how good it feels. He grinds his lower half into yours. You moan into his mouth, earning one from him, both enjoying and exploring the other.

“I wanna taste you, sugar,” he lifts your chin up with his fingers, kissing down your chin then your neck then your collarbone and chest.

You wordlessly slip off your, his, shirt revealing that you have nothing on beneath it. He inhales sharply, taken aback by you. Your fingers scramble for the buttons of his flannel and you honestly think you break a few, moving so quickly.

“Impatient, are we?”

You look up at him through your lashes, “Just know what I want.”

Joel shrugs off his shirt, undoes his belt, and pulls off his jeans. You barely have time to admire his toned body, broad shoulders before he descends. He tugs off your, his, shorts, tosses them, and kisses everywhere his fingers leave, wet, open mouthed whispers against hot skin that make moisture pool between your thighs. His lips trail from your belly to your inner thighs and back up again.

“Nothing underneath?” he kisses the soft flesh, noting the slick at the apex of your legs. “This all for me, darlin?”

You nod when he licks a stripe up your cunt, “Only you, Joel.”

He buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved, rutting against the bed like he’s enjoying it as much as you are. You all but scream at the way he’s unraveling you with his tongue, circling your clit, accompanying his skilled mouth with his equally capable fingers, bigger than yours

When you tug at the ends of his hair, he groans into you, the noises fueling the coil in your gut, begging it to splinter and snap. He sucks hard and you let out a loud moan at the feeling. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. Joel’s tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks.

Your orgasm washes over you, the pressure relieving through every nerve and vessel, his name a prayer leaving you over and over. Wishing for him to come fix you again.

You pull him up to you and bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places while you taste yourself in his kiss.

“Can I...?” you ask him, hands slipping down to palm him through his boxers.

He groans, head falling into the crook that meets between your neck and shoulder, “As much as I would enjoy that, baby... we’re gonna need to do that later. Need to be inside you.”

You look at him for a moment, just breathing him in as cheesy as it sounds. It’s only hit you now how much you’ve been longing for this.

“You have all of me,” you tell him, moonlight sculpting his handsome features.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, y/n...” your name is blanketed by his voice, delivered to you in the way Zeus gives the world lightning. Simple bursts of electricity that can tear the earth.

You hold his stubbled jaw in your hands, rubbing his cheek with your thumbs. He doesn’t remember a time anyone has ever looked at him like you do, gently, adoringly, openly.

Joel puts his lips near your ear, kissing your temple, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”

You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder.

Your hair is in messy tendrils in every which way and you’ve never been more breathtaking to him. The color of your eyes brighter, skin flushed with warmth, and lips puffy. His eyes scan over your face, committing your soft and sharp features alike to memory. Lust blown and glowing with dewy sweat.

“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he holds your jaw in his hand, kissing you again.

He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises in your ear, littering kisses across your jaw. “Wanted you for so long...” he find your lips again with his own.

You mewl into his lips, licking his tongue as he pushes inside you again and again and again.

This past year of stolen glances and touches seem so pointless when it could have been this, this beautiful mess of limbs and lips and tongue. You never knew euphoria until this moment.

Joel’s hips begin to stutter and you’re both already close to release. You lick up his throat and kiss a constellation across his jaw, feeling him gulp under your touch.

“Keep kissing me like that, sugar, and I’m done for.”

You can’t help yourself, overwhelmed with feeling as the two of you reach your climax together. Blissful and stupid. His lips wander down your neck and nipping that sweet spot, as you arch into him.

You whimper and his movements slow as do yours, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers.

You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, continuing on in euphoric waves, leaving you aching and wanting more. He kisses you through it and it aches, all of the love you have pouring into him and him into you.

As you both lay there, chests heaving slips parted, he smiles down at you.

“Will you go out… with me?” Joel says sweetly, kissing your temples. “That usually comes first but we- I…”

You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a soft kiss, “The answer is always yes.”

You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a press of your lips quietly, “Yes. The answer is always yes.”

Joel rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Your chests heaving, out of breath but happy. Everything you both have wanted for a long, long time, laying right in front of each other.

“Can I...” he searches your face, face red and nervous you’ll say no even when you’re in his arms. “Can I take you out tomorrow? I usually do that before this, but we just... I-”

You interrupt with a kiss, his new favorite thing, whispering, “Yes, Joel. The answer is always yes.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal joel miller #fanfiction #smut #bella ramsey #ellie the last of us #ellie

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haveihitanerve · 2 months

Text

Oliver Queen was quite certain he was going to die. He had been holding in a laugh for the past ten minutes, which was dangerous under any circumstances, and downright fatal if it was an explosive, loud and hearty laugh, which this one was. Especially considering that no one else seemed to be as tickled as he was, and if he did laugh, he would be laughing at the Batman. The thing was, that Batman had brought his own coffee mug and thermos to the Watchtower (because apparently their coffee wasn't good enough, or something, as batman hadn't exactly offered an explanation) and both had phrases on them that would be amusing belonging to anyone, and were downright hilarious due to the fact that they belonged to Batman. The thermos said “I’m not saying I’m Batman, I’m just saying you’ll never see me and Batman in the same room together” which, sadly, no one else seemed to have even looked twice at, and his mug, which had a large black bat on it, which said “We’re a Batty little family”. Both items were very much not helping Oliver to win his fight with his mirth, when Batman caught his eye. “Oh shit.” he muttered when the Bat began to move towards him. Well, he was bound to die anyway. “Nice mug.” Oliver greeted the second Batman got close. To his surprise, Batmans lips twitched upward. “Thank you. My children got it for me. I’m surprised you're the first to mention it.” Oliver looked at him in surprise. “Oh my freaking gods.” Batman, the Batman, wanted people to comment on his mug. He was proud of it. Oliver finally released his cackle, and Batmans smile grew marginally in delight. “Oh man that is priceless.” Oliver chuckled when he had finally gotten himself under control. “But hey, kids are like that. I mean, mine got me a shirt with two arrows pointing up, with a bow that was sideways beneath it to make a simile face.” Oliver sketched on his own shirt with his finger to display the image. Batman chuckled lightly. “Thats… quite funny.” “Yeah.” Oliver agreed, thinking back with a smile how often he wore it, and Roy’s delight every time. “My kids,” Batman added, drawing Oliver out of his thoughts. “Got me a tie that says, uh, “Worlds Best Dad In Gotham. Which… o-k i guess..” Oliver stared at him agape before absolutely losing it at the tone with which Batman had quoted his tie. “That is… brilliant.” Oliver wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Wow. Wow wow wow wow wow.” Oliver smiled with relish. “I love that.” Batman smiled back. “I do too.” “Uh, green arrow? Whats so funny?” Green Lantern called over. “Oh nothing, nothing.” Oliver called back. “Just some uh.. Dad jokes.” Hal made a noise of confusion, but Batman chuckled lightly. “Dad jokes?” Green Lantern asked, utterly befuddled. Batman and Green Arrow grinned at each other.

Oliver Queen was quite certain he was going to die. He had a meeting in Gotham today, which was always long and boring, especially since he usually only dealt with the lower members of Wayne Enterprises. Not that he had anything against status, not really, it was only that they were always such a drag, and it was clear they wanted a higher lifestyle. But, to his surprise, when Oliver walked into the meeting room, the CEO of WE was actually present, sitting at the head of the table in deep discussion with a man Oliver vaguely remembered was named something Fox. Lucy? “Ah, Ollie, so good of you to meet with us!” Boomed a voice and Oliver turned in surprise to see Bruce Wayne. “Bruce? Hey man! I didn't know you’d be here!” Oliver grinned in surprised delight, offering the other man a quick hug. Bruce shrugged, sipping some coffee. “I’m just here as a chauffeur. I’m taking Timmy out after this, but I’ll be a part of the meeting if you want some decent conversation.” He winked and Oliver laughed. “Not that my son isn't a good conversationalist.” He added. Oliver waved a hand, moving to his seat and offering the kid a quick smile. Tim glanced over, offering a wave before returning to his heated debate. “Naw I know he is. Wasn't expecting you guys to be here. Glad you are though.” Oliver sighed in relief. Bruce hummed in acknowledgement, taking a seat next to him. “Well I’m glad to see you too Ollie, theres, actually something I want to tell you.” At that, his son finally looked over for more than a second, something gleaming in his eyes. “Oh?” Oliver asked intrigued, leaning forward. That was when he saw it. Tucked just barely beneath the lapel of Bruces suit jacket…. A tie. A tie that said “Worlds Best Dad in Gotham. Which… O-k I guess..” Oliver sat back like electrocuted. Bruce and Tim watched him carefully, and Fox gave a very good impression of looking out the window. “You- uh- you're.” Oliver cleared his throat and Bruce leaned in intently. “Yes?” “Your tie.” Oliver blurted. “Its… nice. My friend has one too.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Does he?” He lifted his mug, which had a large black bat on it, and sipped. Oliver swallowed. “W-why me? Why now?” Bruce shrugged, glancing over at his son who was now also doing a very good job of admiring the ceiling tiles. “Because I trust you. And because I need a good friend.” Oliver smiled weakly. “Well, you already had that in Brucie.” Bruce smiled softly. “I know. But friendship requires trust. And Batman needs all the friends he can get.” Oliver chuckle lightly. “So… Dad jokes was the way to go huh?” Bruce smiled, pleased, leaning back. “Yep. Dad jokes.” Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen grinned at each other.

#i needed some ollie bruce friendship #hopefully you do too #so here you go #batman #batfam #yes the kids kinda made him do it #“i want uncle Ollie back!!!”#-dick #besties #bruce wayne #oliver queen #you have no idea how many times i acidentally wrote Wood instead of queen

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harrysfolklore · 2 years

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thinking about yn taking bubba into the phone booth and leaving a cute message for harry 🥹 -🫶

STOP DOING THIS TO ME. I CANT STOP WRITING ABOUT THEM

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PHONE BOOTH MESSAGES

With your three year old in hand and covered in your husband’s merch, you walked through the halls of Chicago’s United Center.

Harry was always skeptical about letting you and your baby go out of his sight and roam through the arenas, but he knew how important was for your son to be outside and interact with other people so he doesn’t get overwhelmed with the constant traveling that the tour life required.

Of course, his two bodyguards were following close behind you, he gave them the order to never leave the two of you alone or let anyone get too close to the point that it could be harmful. And they knew better than to let anything happen to the people their boss loved the most.

To celebrate Harry’s sold out shows at United Center, the arena set up different photo ops, Harry’s House themed spaces and what they called “Late Night Talking booths”, and that’s where you were both heading.

You absolutely loved the idea of fans recording messages for your husband that will be on a personalized vinyl for him, and you thought it was a great idea to surprise him with a message from his little bubba, who was getting more and more talkative by the second.

“Mummy, where we going?” he asked in a small voice and you bent down to pick him up, internally groaning because your baby surely got big.

“We’re going to record a message from daddy, baby. Over there in the red booth.” you pointed towards it as you got closer to the place, luckily, not many fans were inside the arena yet and the booth was empty.

“Love daddy.” he cooed, every time his dad was mentioned, he gave a similar reply, the little boy adored his dad more than anyone in the world.

“I know you do, baby.” you cooed back as one of Harry’s guards opened the booth’s door for you, you thanked him quickly before getting inside and grabbing the phone and placing it close to your boy’s little face.

“Go ahead baby, what do you want to tell daddy?” you told your him and it only took a few seconds until he started babbling and babbling about his favorite person.

You knew your husband was going to tear up when he played the vinyl and realized his baby’s voice was there.

The five sold out shows in Chicago were a bliss. You got to enjoy watching Harry doing what he loves the most in the world, and you got to show your son that what his daddy did was something special.

Of course, Harry couldn’t help but mention your baby any chance he got, multiple videos of him saying stuff like “My bubba is in the audience tonight!”, “Look at my bubba, isn’t he cute, he’s so cute” we’re already viral on all social media platforms.

Now you were in your Los Angeles home, getting some rest before he had to go back to playing shows there. Sitting in your large couch with tea mugs in hand and watching your baby play with his plush toys on the floor, you knew it was the perfect opportunity to get him to listen to the vinyl.

“You haven’t played the vinyl they gave you in Chicago, have you lovie?” you asked him as you cuddled to his side, putting your hand on his chest and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw the engagement ring and wedding band -matching his- resting on your finger.

“I surely haven’t, honey. Let me get it and let’s listen to it now, I’m curious about what kind of messages are there” he kissed your hand as he stood up and went on to look for the vinyl, he put it on the record player you kept at your lounging room and his fan’s voices echoed through the room.

You surely got emotional at some of their messages, some saying meaningful stuff like “Thank you for saving my life” “I met my fiancé because of you” “You helped me when no one else did”, and other messages were rather funny, with stuff like “Thanks for draining my bank account” “I skipped school to be here but it was worth it”.

But it was when the little babbles and toddler voice was heard around the room when you fully turned to your husband to see his reaction.

“Who’s that? That’s my bubba, isn’t it?” he said with a small smile as the he heard his little baby babbling stuff like “I love daddy. Daddy is the best and he gives the best hugs”

“Oh baby” Harry cooed as he picked his baby up from the carpet and placed him on his lap, the boy instantly giggling and wrapping his little arms around him “You recorded that for daddy, and your mummy was a cheeky little thing and didn’t tell me” he obnoxiously kissed the boy’s cheeks making him squeal and laugh.

The three of you were the perfect little family, and Harry thanked his lucky stars every night for that.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight t @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore e @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @eviesaurusrex @olivialovesh @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas s @rafeyyyyy @tinydeskwriter r @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry

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pascalpvnk · 7 months

Text

my funny valentine

pairing: pre/no-outbreak!joel miller x gn!reader

summary: joel attempts to ask you to be his valentine empty handed. it simply won’t cut it.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no descriptions of reader (joel picks them up once), no specific timeline (i hc that sarah is 5/6, no mention of joel or reader’s ages) but DoorDash and YouTube tutorials exist, brief smutty mention but no explicit smut, joel’s biceps, assertive reader, silly man thinking he can do the bare minimum, silly man righting his wrongs, one (1) mention of his mother, lots of kisses, lots of fluff, no use of y/n

a/n: i switched from past tense to present tense midway through writing, so if anything was missed in editing in the beginning, please let me know :’) this is a very action driven fic rather than the world building I’m used to so I’m sorry if it’s repetitive. not beta’d. divider by @saradika-graphics

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

masterlist // fic recs

The bitter burn of dark roasted beans stimulates your taste buds before being soothed with the coffee creamer in the mixture. The stovetop clock reads 8:09. Normally Joel would be up by seven, have his coffee and breakfast and switch out the laundry by this time. Instead he’s snoring the morning away in his bedroom, probably sprawled out over the whole bed now that you’ve been up for a bit.

You enjoy the quiet as the two Millers are lost in deep slumber. The younger of the two had been worn out playing house with her dolls much past her bedtime. You didn’t mind, as you were waiting for Joel to return home from work anyway. He made his appearance soon after you tucked Sarah into her bed, eyelids heavy and shirt sweat and dirt stained.

Exhaustion was an understatement. You gave him a warm kiss, despite his argument that he smelled bad.

You always stink, I don’t see the issue, you teased him.

A huffed chuckle escaped him as he wrapped his arms around you. Smartass.

You two shared a shower, washing one another’s bodies from the day’s grime gently, relieving stress in more than one way. Joel has always been clingy when he’s tired, his hands never wanting to let you go. So you found yourself pressed up against the cool tile of the shower wall, Joel filling you to the brim until the water ran cold.

He was barely able to pull on a pair of boxers before his body had succumbed to his fatigue the moment his head hit his pillow.

You laid beside him, delicately brushing his damp curls behind his ear, similarly to how you did when you awoke, this time his curls dry and stuck up every which way.

Joel doesn’t find his way out to the kitchen for another twenty minutes, a pair of plaid sweatpants hanging on for dear life lowly on his hips and a black cotton shirt barely concealing his ever growing biceps.

“Mornin’, baby,” he rasps, kissing the top of your head to grab your attention as you repeat his greeting back. His lips capture yours, groaning at the prominent coffee taste swirling on your tongue. He reluctantly pulls away, admiring the way your eyes sparkle as you look up at him.

“Prettier than a painting, honey,” he sighs, rounding the counter to the coffee maker. Carefully opening the cabinet above, he grabs his favorite mug, coincidentally the one you and Sarah had picked out for him for Christmas. If dad can’t fix it, no one can, is printed on both sides of it with a little toolbox. She was giggly the entire time he was unwrapping it, a precious sound that replays in your mind each time you see it.

Joel grabs the coffee pot with one hand while scrubbing his other over his beard, unkempt and due for a trimming soon.

“So…I was thinkin’ about Valentine’s Day,” he starts, completely filling up his cup with the steaming brew. “Would ya wanna go out or have a night in?”

“Hold on, cowboy. I don’t recall being asked to be your valentine, so as far as I know I’m not doing anything,” you shrug.

His brow cocks up at your comment mid-sip. You know your relationship advanced fairly quickly, seeing as the upcoming Valentine’s Day is the first you two are celebrating together. More than half of your belongings have found a cozy new home at Joel’s place and your own bed hasn’t been slept on in over a week. Your anniversary isn’t until April, but the quick progression doesn’t mean you want to skip out on the little things. You don’t wanna get comfortable.

“Okay then,” he clears his throat, the tips of his ears and peaks of his cheeks flushing. “Will you be my Valentine?”

You give him a once over, empty handed sans his coffee.

“Is this how you wanna ask me?”

“Um…’spose not,” he stutters, visibly surprised with your assertiveness. “Hold onto that thought, baby. I’m gon’ ask ya properly.”

Joel starts to put his mug in the microwave and leave the kitchen. Your soft voice startles him as you call his name.

“Woah, woah. I don’t want you to go right this second,” you chuckle. “You look too good for anyone else to see this morning anyways.”

A smirk creeps onto his lips, matching yours. Your lips meld together as you drag him back to his bedroom until Sarah awakes.

Joel makes his way out of the house later in the afternoon, a few stops in mind for his valentine’s proposal.

He feels like a giant oaf wandering the aisles of endless amounts of candies and plushies. A few eyes wander towards him as he stares blankly at the assorted chocolates. Christ, just pick something and get outta here, he thinks to himself while scratching his freshly trimmed scruff.

“Anything I can help you with?” A voice startles him. He looks up at the shop employee with a small smile.

“Mind givin’ a second opinion?” He chuckles, watching her come a bit closer. “Which one ‘a these would you wanna get from your partner?”

She scans the shelf for a moment, settling on a heart shaped box. For safe measure, she grabs the miniature version as well.

“You can’t really go wrong with chocolate. I’d want the bigger one but it can be pricey so they have the smaller one too,” she smiles as she hands him the two options. The gears start turning in his head as a new idea comes up.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he smiles politely, tucking them both in his basket. “I ‘ppreciate the help.”

The clerk nods and returns to her assigned position, leaving Joel to explore some more. He ends up buying double what he had anticipated, but for good reason.

He finds himself at a local Trader Joe’s. The bouquets that the previous shop had pre-made were alright, but Joel knows that you deserve far better than those. He picks up bundles of baby’s breath and greenery after choosing the perfect main flower, classic red roses. He grabs a few more groceries you had mentioned were running low before checking out. He’s feeling pretty proud of himself, how hard can assembling a bouquet be?

Turns out Joel is a little in over his head with the flowers. He’s stuck himself with thorns, which he assumed were already removed, more times than he can count. He wishes his momma was next to him, giving him better directions than the internet can provide. You’re the only person he’s brought back home that his mother truly approved of, which meant the whole world to him. So therefore, he simply cannot mess this up.

He settles his bloodied fingers under the running tap as he cuts the stems off of the plants to an even height. This part is second nature to him, cutting things evenly is his livelihood after all. He cuts a few of them down to half of the size, separating them from the rest.

The video he’s pulled up instructs him to open up the roses next, something he would’ve never thought to do himself. He turns each individual bud upside down over the sink, twisting the stems between his palms until the flowers look alive. Assembly of the buds seems easy enough, just a pattern.

Rose, greenery, filler, turn, repeat.

Once he’s satisfied with his work, he ties the ends of both bouquets he’s created with rubber bands before wrapping them in brown paper. He borrows some pink ribbon from Sarah’s crafting supplies for the final touch on each.

Joel’s phone buzzes with two notifications at once.

‘Your delivery driver will arrive shortly with your order!’

‘Hey, baby. Sarah and I are heading home shortly. I don’t feel like cooking tonight so I can pick something up on the way.’

He makes his way to the front door, flipping on the porch light before responding to you.

‘No need, sweetheart. I have dinner covered. See you soon.’

Joel completes the message with a heart emoticon before sending. He gathers all of the stem and leaves from the sink and throws away the scraps before wiping down the dampened counter. The gifts are assembled on the coffee table, a clear divide between what he got for you and Sarah.

He retrieves the takeout from the driver, giving him a cash tip before taking the food to the kitchen. Joel completes any final touches he may have missed until he hears your car doors closing in the driveway.

“My sweet princess,” he grins the moment his little girl steps into the house, leaving you trailing behind with the bags in your hands.

“Daddy!” Sarah calls out, running into Joel’s arms as he meets you both at the door. Kisses are littered across her plump cheeks, her squeals filling the quiet space. He reopens the storm door for you with one hand as Sarah occupies the other, hanging on his neck.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets you, gently grasping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before planting a firm kiss to your lips. His thumb caresses your skin as he pulls away. Sarah wiggles out of his grasp to inspect the wafting takeout scent from the kitchen. She doesn’t even make it halfway before she lets out a dramatic gasp.

“Teddy bear!” She yells, beelining to the setup in the living room.

“What did you do, Joel Miller?” You ask, suspicion lacing your tone. He chuckles at your ambiguity, giving your ass a small love tap.

“Why don’t’cha see for yourself, hm?” He smirks, collecting the plastic and paper bags from your grasp. You join Sarah and admire your presents. His heart doubles in size watching his two favorite people look so incredibly elated.

Joel sets everything down on the couch to join you two.

“I got flowers too! Daddy got us flowers,” Sarah grins, holding up her miniature bouquet matching yours. You find your way to him, snuggling up to his side in a hug.

“I do good? Will ya be my valentine?” He questions timidly, assuming he did at least decently by the bright smiles beaming on yours and Sarah’s faces.

“Yes, yes of course I will. It’s perfect, baby, thank you,” you whisper as your arms wrap around the back of his neck. “I’ll show you just how perfect you did after we put her to bed, hm?”

You swear his cheeks are the hue of the roses he gifted you. For once, he fully believes he hasn’t messed everything up this time. He sweeps you off of your feet with a spin, peppering your face with kisses.

“I love you both so much.”

to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed xx

#fic: my funny valentine #my writing #joel miller #sarah miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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steviewashere · 7 months

Text

I Am the Kiwi

Rating: General CW: None Apply! Tags: Post-Canon, Post Season 4, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Insecure Eddie Munson, Negative Self Talk, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Calls Eddie Munson Pet Names, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson

🥝—————🥝

Maybe he shouldn’t bother their tentative relationship by asking insecure questions.

But that’s not how Eddie’s mind works. He’s never known peace unless there’s been an answer. If he senses the beginning of a question like the itchy fur of a kiwi on his tongue, he has to spit it out. And only then, even if the answer is bleak and even if the answer is negative, he’s at peace with it. He’ll just remember to cut the skin off later, taste the fruit for what it is, find something else about it to savor. Because not everything is sweet. And most of the world is bitter like the skin of that kiwi.

He peels the skin off, hair and all, offering it out to Steve to ponder. In the quiet space of his living room, surrounded by warm love in the shape of Wayne’s mug and hat collection, the five year old instruction manuals for appliances they don’t even have anymore, and amber lightbulbs stained with the broken limbs and melted corpses of stink bugs. Maybe he is an unfortunate bug, drawn to Steve’s light. Maybe he is willing to give himself, all of himself, the ugly parts and disgusting parts to something warm and savoring and bright inside Steve. He knows he is. He always has been.

In the quiet, Steve hot under his arm, droopy with fatigue, chuckling low at the sitcom on the television set, Eddie prickles with unanswered unease. He drags his rough palm down Steve’s soft right arm, fingernails dully scratching from mole to mole, pressing into his loose muscles. Eddie leans his head down, cheek laid atop Steve’s voluminous hair, and he breathes him in. Fruity sweetness, floral undertones, some sort of professional salon shampoo. He kisses tender.

“Why do you love somebody like me?” He breathes. And in the quiet, he startles himself, no matter how much that question begged to break free. Steve tenses in his hold, but Eddie can only force him in tighter. Fingers pressing harsh into his fatty parts. Nails mean and sharp and jagged. He buries himself farther into Steve’s beautiful hair.

His boyfriend is gorgeous. And he’s self-sufficient. Kind in a way Eddie seems to have forgotten to be. How can somebody like Steve love him?

Steve doesn’t answer right away. His breaths falter in the room. Like he’s trying to catch his breath after being scared in a haunted house. Maybe, if Eddie allows himself to marinate in it, maybe it’s exactly like that. There’s something rippling, haunted, venturing lonely and howling under Eddie’s skin. He thinks it started with his mom’s death, percolated when his dad went to prison, came full bloom like a crumpled flower on Wayne’s doorstep so many years ago. In a way, Steve is scared. Not scared of Eddie. Or the truth. But this third thing, of answering the question. Of finding the right words, to which Eddie knows he struggles with—so in all aspects, asking something partially insecure and partially selfish is demeaning. It’s, if Eddie thinks about it, challenging Steve’s love.

There is no response, not yet. But what does fill between them is the live studio audience laughter. The laughter of people who probably didn’t find the joke particularly funny or even clever. They’re just there to laugh. To see behind the scenes of some TV show. To be recognized among the crowd.

Sitcom laughter. And Eddie refuses to let Steve see him.

He hears Steve take a tentative deep breath. The back of his hand touched by the softness of Steve’s palm. And he’s reminded, even in the simplest interactions such as this, that they come from two different worlds. Of all those biases he held onto for years. Unable to get over himself or get with the program. Steve is nothing of what Eddie thought. He’s a jock, sure. And he’s got the better life in some ways; nothing to really label him as other and a status that seems to override him, but it’s not negative. He isn’t a bully. He’s soft and kind and sweet and loving, not a douchebag. A good person. Where, sometimes, Eddie feels as though he lacks all the qualities that Steve seems to be plentiful in.

“Eddie—“

“No, sorry,” he apologizes immediately. His voice small and childlike. “Sorry, that’s not okay to ask. You love me and that needs to be enough.”

Then, Steve shifts. Pulling himself away, sitting on the edge of the cushion, turning to be face to face. And Eddie’s ashamed. He’s mad at himself, too. If the heartbreaking soft sadness in Steve’s eyes is anything. His little frown, pulling down his pretty lips and furrowing his eyebrows and making him wrinkle in all the bad ways. He tilts his head and peers at Eddie.

“I love you because I just do,” he murmurs, “I don’t know how to explain why I do. You’re unlike anybody I’ve ever loved.”

Eddie swallows, takes a breath, and asks, “In a good way or a bad way?”

Steve’s gaze softens. The sadness still lingering, but replaced by determination, even the lightest form of it. “Always in a good way,” he whispers. He reaches out, takes Eddie’s right hand in his left and squeezes. He’s so soft. “You know who you are. And you’re loud about it. I admire that about you.” He closes his eyes, thinking. When he’s gathered, his voice is enamored and murmuring, “And, baby, you’re gentle even if you don’t realize it. You know how and when to take care of the people around you. I’ve never—I’ve always been the one to do that in relationships. You make me feel…Complete.”

Eyes back on him, Eddie swallows most of this insecurity. “Really? You think I complete you?” He questions meekly.

Then, Steve nods, not even taking a moment to consider. Because he just knows. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I know we just started this whole…thing—“ he swings their tangled hands back and forth between them. Eddie chuckles, earning him the most earnest smile he’s probably ever seen. “But, I have a feeling that we’ve got something special. Plus, we’ve got all the free time in the world, y’know, now that it’s not ending. We’ll be okay. I love loving you.”

“I love loving you, too,” Eddie murmurs in turn. He brings his free hand up and brushes some stray strands of Steve’s hair back. Thumb tickling down his temple, swiping under his eye where it’s heavy and blue. “I’m sorry for doubting your love.”

“Honey,” Steve sighs. “It’s really okay. I get it, you know? Everybody has their insecurities. Hell, I have some deeply awful ones.” He leans into Eddie. His warmth radiating once more. Breath ghosting over his cheek, words soft, “I will always reassure you. Because I know you’d do the same for me.” And then, Steve presses a tacky, sweet kiss to his cheek. The tip of his nose crumpling with the soft plunge he gives into Eddie’s skin. He is cracked open raw and for once, instead of being turned away or shunned, somebody is there to enjoy him. Steve is there to savor. “You’re special,” he whispers, “my special one.”

Eddie can only melt in his hands. He’s content with this answer. Fulfilled.

This relationship may be new, but Eddie knows it’ll soon be something sacred. Like the sticky, sugary green insides of a ripe kiwi.

🥝—————🥝 Fun fact, I'm allergic to kiwis. Found this out after my tongue got itchy from the skin of a kiwi. That was a scarring thing to discover in the middle of my kindergarten snack time, tell you that much. Haven't had one since.

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #hurt/comfort

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stardropsaloongossiptrain · 1 year

Text

Bachelors and Having a Baby

I saw another hc blog do this and I wanna do my own take~

Sebastian --

Extremely shocked when you tell him you're pregnant, but would react with a blank face and "oh, huh. Interesting." It does not sink in for a few minutes to an hour, and then he's losing his fucking mind.

Never thought he would be a dad, and convinced himself he would be a bad one. Even if him and the farmer weren't using protection, it still blindsides him

He cuts back on freelance work to help more around the farm, especially in the last trimester. The farmer is NOT allowed to do anything more strenuous than play video games. He will prob call on Abigail and Sam to help, he's not exactly the most athletic guy in the world.

Despite his fears that he wouldn't do a good job, he certainly works to make sure they won't come true. Reads a lot of parenting books and talks to Robin a lot. Those talks heal a bit of the rift between them.

Robin jokes that she's too young to be a grandma, but Demetrius cries when he's given a World's Best Grandpa mug. Maru happily steps up as an aunt and will spoil the baby with custom made toys and a ton of STEM for baby books.

Abigail and Sam are the chaotic aunt and uncle I imagine Shane was to Jas. They will babysit (mostly Sam) but expect funny pictures and wacky situations.

Elliott --

He is overjoyed when you tell him the news. He's going to be a papa! Lots of hugs and swinging you around. He doesn't strike me as the type to seek parenthood, but would lovingly embrace it once given to him.

It doesn't hit him for a while that a baby is going to mean changing his lifestyle quite a bit. No more all nighters, he won't be able to write for hours and hours at a time anymore. He finds it worth changing that aspect of his life to adjust to this new addition, a physical manifestation of your love.

Starts to change his habits early on so he'll be better suited after the baby arrives. Fully supports when you go nest mode and will move the furniture around as much as you want.

Has had a list of names for years before you even meet him. And all of them are beautiful

Leah takes on an aunt type roll, and loves teaching the baby about art and colors.

Sam --

Panics hard at the announcement. It doesn't matter that you're married, he still feels like he's sixteen sometimes, and he's worried about getting in trouble

Jodi and Kent are overjoyed at becoming grandparents, and Vincent thinks it's cool he's going to be an uncle.

Abigail and Sebastian make fun of him for being so worried about it, and help him get ready mentally to be a dad. They may need to remind him how much he helped with Vincent.

Once he calms down and realizes his family isn't going to be mad and his friends will stick around, he's extremely excited. He helped make an entirely new person! Someone he can teach music to! Can you skateboard with a baby?

Happily becomes the stay at home dad and handles a lot of the childcare.

Absolutely writes banger after banger of goofy songs for his kid

Alex --

I think he would be the type that always wanted to be a dad, just to spite how bad his was. When you tell him he's going to be one, he's over the moon. One of the few times you ever see him cry is when you tell him about the pregnancy, and again when the baby arrives.

Immediately befriends all the moms in Pelican Town and joins their gossip groups so he can get their advice and help as you prep for the baby. They adore him. He's like their pet.

Gets into what-to-expect books and takes over farm chores basically as soon as you tell him. No, you don't need to be doing all of that. He's got it. Which, I do think he would be pretty involved on the farm. I don't think he's the type to slouch while his spouse does everything. You can trust that he'll do well.

Evelyn and George are shocked by the news. George especially didn't think they'd live long enough to see it. They both love the little one quite a bit, and despite George's general attitude, he only speaks sweetly to the baby.

Haley will absolutely bury you in baby outfits as gifts.

Harvey --

Probably the most panicked on the list. He's not an ob/gyn but he IS medically trained and knows how easily everything can go wrong.

This doesn't mean he isn't thrilled and amazed in equal measure. Sure, you knew it was a possibility, but... He's so happy. He always wanted to be a dad, and now it's happening! He gets very misty-eyed.

He starts taking over cooking to be sure you're getting all the nutrients you need. You will find snacks in your bag, all healthy.

He also wants you to cut back on the farmwork, maybe hire someone for a season or two to hold it down. He would take over if he could, but being the town's only doctor keeps him too occupied.

He will absolutely do every type of birthing partner class.

He also helps set up the birth plan. He handles your medical needs until the birth. The plan is to go to Zuzu City about when the baby is due, deliver in the big hospital where he can be by your side and let someone else be the doctor. This plan fails when you deliver early and he has to step up. Everything goes well.

Shane --

He never thought he would be a dad. He didn't think he was good enough to take in Jas, and for the longest time, he didn't think he was good enough to be involved enough to have a kid.

He's come so far since when you first met. He's still got his issues, but he has a healthy grasp on them anymore. He isn't filled with loathing when you tell him, but tears up and holds you close. He feels incredibly lucky to have someone that loves him enough to welcome a child from him.

He is excited to prep for the kid. He was around when Jas was born, so he still remembers a fair bit about the baby years.

Jas can't wait to be a big sister. She likes playing with Vincent, but it would be even better to have a brother or sister. Marnie tears up when you both tell her the news. She's already a great-aunt to Jas, but looks forward to welcoming your baby as well. If you call her Grannie she will melt.

Shane absolutely faints in the delivery room. Man thought he could handle it. He cannot.

He's a very attentive dad. He never, ever wants this part of him to feel like it's not loved or good enough.

#sdv headcanons #sdv shane #sdv elliott #sdv alex #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv harvey

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babytarttdoodoo · 1 year

Note

kind of a rouge prompt idea but “i just told a story at work about my childhood that i thought was really funny but now everyone is super quiet and someone said i’m so sorry” but it’s jamie + the team edition. like he talks about a traumatising James Thing and has no idea how horrifying it is until they’re all like …… wtf

love your writing! <3

Thanks for the prompt (and the lovely compliment)!

I’ll preface this by saying I have next to no knowledge of dentistry and you should not assume any medical assertions made here are correct.

((I also feel like I should add that I finished this one off while more than a little tipsy.))

Enjoy the himbo chaos.

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

“Ay, dios mio, it was terrifying.” Dani put an emphatic hand to his chest. “Earl. He still haunts me.”

“Thought you were over that, bruv.” Isaac frowned up at him from his usual spot on the locker bench.

“On the pitch, yes. But at night…” Dani shook his head mournfully. “I have dreams of being chased in the dark. I know it is him.”

“I used to have dreams like that.” Colin piped up, pausing in tying his laces and looking haunted. “‘Cept it was my nana chasing me, on her mobility scooter.”

A few people sniggered and Isaac clapped Colin’s shoulder. “That’s fucked up.”

“I never remember my dreams,” Sam mused. “But I have always been a very deep sleeper. My father says I was the envy of all other parents when I was a baby.”

“I have only ever had one nightmare.” Richard declared. “All of my beautiful little teeth fell out of my mouth and I was ugly. Who will kiss me if I have no teeth?”

“Who’s losing teeth?” Jamie asked, joining the conversation from the doorway with a furrowed brow.

“We are discussing nightmares,” Jan explained matter-of-factly, then turned back to Richard. “Dreams about losing teeth are commonly attributed to stress.”

Jamie shook his head, still looking confused.

“Nah, don’t get that one, mate. Your dentist can just stick ‘em right back in, can’t they?”

That sparked a round of horrified protests and Jamie flapped his hands like a conductor to quiet the rabble.

“Eh, eh, I’m right!”

“Actually…” Sam held up his phone, open on an NHS webpage. “Jamie is correct.”

The locker room erupted into disgust and outrage while Jamie grinned smugly and tipped his I,COG cap to Sam for the assist.

“Hold on, how did you know that?” Isaac demanded, staring at Jamie like he had two heads. That quietened the team a little as heads swivelled in Jamie’s direction.

“Knocked two of ‘em out when I were, like, 10.” He shrugged and tapped a fingernail against one of his front teeth in demonstration. “Mum’s friend were a dental nurse. Told her to put them in some milk and take me to hospital.”

“You were very lucky.” Sam commented, still scrolling through the information he had found. “A significant gap in your teeth can lead to premature ageing.”

“And what a tragedy that would have been, eh?” Jamie beamed, gesturing to his face. “To think I might have deprived the world of this top tier mug.”

Other players groaned and laughed, a few tossing socks or discarded shirts in Jamie’s direction while he ducked, sniggering.

“How do you know they gave you your real teeth back?” Bumbercatch questioned, with an air that suggested great suspicion of the dentistry profession as a whole.

Jamie considered that. “Fair point,” he conceded. “They feel like mine, though.”

“Wait, how do you even manage to lose two teeth at once?” Colin interjected, muffled by his fingers as he prodded his own mouth in confusion. “I’ve never lost any after my baby teeth.”

“Took a snooker cue to the face.” The team winced as a collective and Jamie nodded sagely. “Were pretty grim. Blood all over the pub floor and everything.”

“You were 10?” Thierry clarified, face scrunched up. “Do kids normally get into bar fights here?”

“Well, yeah, s’pose not.” Jamie shuffled in place, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable. “Weren’t a fight so much. Dad took me in to watch a match and it all kicked off a bit.”

An uneasy quiet overtook the general hubbub and more than one face went stony at that revelation.

“Mate.” Jeff looked like he’d rather not be the one probing further, but had bitten the bullet anyway. “Your, uh, your dad wasn’t the one with the pool cue, was he?”

“Eh…” Jamie glanced around the room before answering. “Well, yeah. He was. But I’m, like, 90% sure it were an accident.”

Chaos detonated like a bomb.

Isaac and Richard jumped to their feet, one cursing in French, the other demanding to know how long it would take to get to Manchester. Colin seemed to be googling train times.

Dani had taken to rifling through his bag, looking for god knows what, and Thierry was strapping on his mask like it was war paint (he didn’t even need it anymore, he just liked looking scary).

Jan was a terrifyingly silent pillar in the middle of the storm and Sam… Well, Sam looked like he had been gutted.

“OI!” Roy’s bellow commanded immediate silence, players freezing mid-shout. He was framed by the door to the coaches’ office, arms crossed and typical glare set in place. “What the fuck is going on out here?”

“Close ranks!” Jamie all but squeaked, invoking a hallowed, sacred vow from the team to collectively shut the fuck up.

All eyes turned to Issac who, as captain, had the final say.

On balance, he decided it was probably best that their new manager didn’t get arrested for murder before the season even got underway.

“Agreed.” he finally acquiesced and the whole room affirmed their compliance sullenly. It just wasn’t worth the forfeit to cave in under Roy’s (very effective) glare.

“... right then.” Roy finally allowed, still looking at them all suspiciously. “Then get out on the pitch and stop wasting our time.”

Everyone clamoured towards the tunnel, eager to escape the intense atmosphere. All except Jamie, who was still hurriedly pulling on his kit.

He tried not to seize up when Roy sidled over.

“You’ll tell me later.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question and Jamie knew better than to take it as one. He slumped in defeat.

“Yeah. Probably.”

#is it crack!fic or is it just afc richmond #who's to say #fic prompts #fic prompt #my fic #jamie tartt #isaac mcadoo #colin hughes #sam obisanya #moe bumbercatch #dani rojas #jan mass #jeff goodman #richard montlaur #roy kent #ted lasso #richmond himbos

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c-is-for-circinate · 2 months

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MCU Rewatch #3: THOR (2011)

General Impressions: I'm allowed to like this one for reasons unrelated to objective quality! I'm also allowed to dislike it for same!

Thor does a good job at a bunch of things. It manages to really succinctly outline what Asgard's deal is, who the major players are, and how this complete fantasy world works, while remaining in the context of a two-hour movie that mostly doesn't even take place there. It's very funny in places! It's not at all a deep movie, but it's entertaining and fantastical and that's fun. This is -- and was! -- the perfect movie to watch in a cold movie theater during a hot summer, munching popcorn and explosions, and that's a perfectly valid thing to be.

Anyway, for me the best parts and the worst parts of this movie were the same, ie Loki. We'll get there -- he was by far the most complex part of this really quite simple film, and that has its plusses and minuses!

All in all, there's nothing wrong with a simple film, and for the most part that's what I'll say about Thor: it was a simple film with good fight scenes, and nothing much was wrong with it.

OH. Except the sound balancing/editing. That was absolutely criminal and whoever was in charge of sound design for this movie should be shot, not just for their crimes here but for the many years of emulation to come.

The Hero: Like the movie, simple but endearing, with a genuine heart.

Thor is definitely not as compelling as Tony Stark, but he's likeable, and his emotional arc is definitely both present and the most genuine part of this movie. In a lot of ways, what we see here is that Thor is a big kid. He makes decisions without thinking about consequences. He does not bother to try and read a room. He's arrogant in a way that reflects his position, but he's also arrogant in a way that suggests he hasn't considered his position -- having his powers, hammer, and home taken away from him is a shock because he's never thought about the fact that he had them in the first place. Getting sent to Earth is more or less a boy being grounded by his father to try and teach him responsibility. Thor is almost a coming-of-age movie, except that it never quite feels like Thor actually gets there -- he's better, by the end, but not quite a man standing on his own two feet just yet. Breaking the Bifrost is a sacrifice on his part, not a decision carrying the weight of the responsibilities Thor will have as an adult and future king.

That said, I really enjoyed the sincerity of his confusion and grief over being told Odin was dead. He's a hurt little kid, asking his brother if please, can I go home. The scene with Selvig in the bar is one of the best in the movie, with Thor admitting vulnerability and doubt and regret over how he left things with his father. (And again, telling that all of these are feelings about his dad, with a man old enough to be a dad/granddad, and that's the energy Thor needs to lean on right now -- Selvig, not Jane, gets Thor's emotional breakthrough moments, because Thor is a tall handsome child who hasn't grown past needing a parent.)

Also, I vaguely remember some fan back-and-forth about whether Thor is kind of dumb, or very smart but trolling, or very smart and just ignorant of local customs. Upon rewatch, Thor may or may not be smart, but he doesn't particularly care. He does shit on Earth because he doesn't care enough to pay attention to whether it's appropriate. Nobody else is smashing coffee mugs, and the diner is totally lacking in raucous celebratory energy, but Thor wants to be raucous and celebrate, so he's going to do so whether it's appropriate or not. Doesn't matter that he's been driven around in cars his whole time on Earth, he doesn't spend thirty seconds to think about what might be appropriate travel, he's going to make assumptions. This is more of that self-centered teenager logic, where he doesn't bother to try and think about the existence of points of view outside his own.

The Villain: If I end up having Loki Feels by the end of this marathon I'm going to stab something. I refuse.

Anyway, Loki was the most complex part of this really quite simple film, which has good and bad sides! I can and will be objective about how well/poorly that complexity was rendered, but sitting here thirteen years after this movie came out, I can admit it: I really fucking hate the Evil Adopted Kid trope. It's a shitty trope and I don't like it, for personal reasons, and that is always going to color my experience with Loki in any movie where he shows up

That aside, Loki's actual motivations and plans in this movie were baffling and kind of a mess. The problem is that Loki is a complex character, with a lot of doubts, full of love and jealousy and insecurity and pride, but we very rarely get to see him from the inside. It feels like the movie was really invested in surprising people with the end twist of Loki killing Laufey in front of Odin, revealing that actually he was on Asgard's side all along! and does not hate his family! So therefore, for the movie before that, we had to be witness to everyone else's doubts about him and only seeing his actions from the outside, to keep that a surprise. I can see how it'd be effective on a first watch, when the suspense of 'what is this guy going to do and what side is he on?' can pull a viewer through the movie. On a rewatch, knowing what Loki's ultimate deal is, it just feels confusing and inconsistent. What exactly was your plan for when your dad woke up, Loki? Did you actually intend to leave Thor on Earth forever? Were you or were you not actually hoping to kill your brother? What the fuck was your endgame here?

I think there is probably a very interesting story here where Loki's plans seem muddled because he's muddled, awash with emotions and doubts and the inner conflict between love of his brother, twisting jealousy, the objective truth that Thor would be a terrible king, and the fact that Loki, like Thor, is also still very much a grown-up kid. He's making dumb decisions by the seat of his pants and his motivations are contradictory and messy. That tracks, with what we see, but we don't get to see that because this movie is too invested in its twist and its simplicity. Allowing Loki the time and space to be this complicated would steal the entire show from his simpler, genuine brother, and because the movie itself wanted to be simple and straightforward, there wasn't room to hold the layers of its complicated villain. No wonder the Tumblr girlies went wild for him.

The Ensemble: Weak romantic lead with an A+ comic sidekick, hobbled by needing to run two casts at once.

I think this is where we really see Thor suffer from the problem of having to establish two casts at the same time. The New Mexico side of the equation, Jane and Selvig and Darcy, simply doesn't get time for character development. We know next to nothing about Jane, except that she cares about her research and once dated a doctor. Why this research? How did she get into it? How long has she been in New Mexico? What university does she even work for??? It's true that we don't get a lot of details about, say, Pepper's backstory, but it doesn't matter because we understand from the very beginning how she fits into her life and also Tony's life. Jane is a brief three-day whirlwind in Thor's existence, and that's not enough time for him or us to understand who she is or why we should love her. It feels like the movie went through the motions of having a Lady Love Interest, and it doesn't work out great.

Darcy and Selvig actually fare better, simply because there's less need for them to be more than they are. All we know about Darcy is that she's a polisci major who's working a summer internship way outside of her field, but we don't need to know more -- she's there to be fucking hilarious and indeed she is. Selvig is there to help facilitate Jane's choices and Thor's emotional development, and he does his job well.

The Asgardians have a similar problem. Thor's four friends are basically interchangeable (Sif's only notable distinction being that she's a girl). Thor's mom...shows up? We get the impression that there's more going on with Odin than we've seen, but I wonder if some of that is just me remembering Ragnarok -- either way, given that Odin is literally in a coma for 3/4 of this movie, it doesn't mean much. Heimdall probably has more characterization than anyone else in Asgard other than Loki, and that is...not a lot.

It's a lot of just not very much, across the board.

The Franchise: We're already seeing the formula start to get built and tested in the moviemaking labs.

It's fascinating watching Thor on screen directly after two back-to-back movies of Tony Stark, because Thor has some of Tony's same growth arc with none of his fascinating complexity. On the surface they've got the same vague sketched outline: careless, self-involved privileged prettyboy must learn to think outside himself and care for others to become a hero. Thor takes that plotline in a very different direction, which means the movie doesn't feel same-y, but a more cynical viewer might wish to speculate about what boardroom or producer's office suggested that the writing team follow that.

I think Thor actually does better about wasting time trying to set up the future of the franchise. We don't spend a ton of time on Coulson and Hawkeye here -- if we watched this movie with no idea who they were or that they were here to set up anything at all, they'd function fine as Generic Government People (with an inexplicable thing for archery). I think the place where the setting-up hits worst, actually, might be with Loki: he needs to be complex and sympathetic enough to be interesting as the main villain of Avengers, but we can't resolve anything about him before that. (Not sure how far they'd planned the plot of Avengers at this point in the production run, but I wouldn't be surprised if they'd already called him as their bad guy.)

Thinking about the big thematic MCU premise of a superhero world without secret identities -- the choice of Thor as our next hero in the franchise, somebody who neither has nor needed a secret identity to begin with, is clever there. They're not going back on the freedom from overworked secret identity bullshit that they've promised, but they're also not stuck making a second movie about the lack of them, which would just end up looking like a retread of IM2. The secrets we do find here are all kept by SHIELD, which is clearly trying to keep superhero stuff in, and just as clearly is not managing it. (Loki also has a secret identity, with his discovery of his Jotunn heritage...hmm, much to think about there for the future.)

We pretty much lose all themes around the military-industrial complex here, and the movie is probably the better for it, considering what a hash IM2 made of the subject.

VERDICT: A breezy, light 6/10

Thor is in every respect a perfectly fine movie. It's simple, it's straightforward, it manages to do a bunch of things and establish a brand new fantasy setting without actually putting much depth into any of them.

I suspect that, as I get further on in this franchise, 'perfectly fine and no great flaws' is going to be the verdict on a lot of these movies, and I'm going to start dropping my number rating lower and lower every time something shows up that's simply fine. For now, with the context of only IM1 and 2, 'does light summer adventure flick competently with some sincerity and doesn't fuck it up' feels like an improvement over IM2's messiness, so that's where I'm rating it.

Except for the sound design. Anyone who thinks their battle sequences need sound effects roughly 800% of a standard dialogue scene should be forced to watch their own movies with the sound on a pair of unremovable headphones set to a flat however-loud-it-needs-to-be-to-hear-people-talking. Perhaps, after the deafness ensues, they will change fucking careers.

#C watches MCU 2024 #Thor #MCU #every version of this character and title are just different variants on saying Thor #well and also I guess #Loki #oh Loki #not looking forward to the Avengers rewatch segment about you

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beardedjoel · 1 year

Text

closer | part seven

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: joel invites you over for a very unforgettable night together. 8k words.

chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, joel being domestic and cute, unprotected piv, creampie, rough sex, spanking, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink

You walk into your parents’ kitchen with headphones on, completely in your own world, just coming in to get coffee that you know they’ll have brewed by now. You’re mouthing the words to the song in your ears, even moving your body a bit with the rhythm as you open the door and walk in. You don’t see your parents anywhere but you shrug, heading to the coffee pot and pouring a mug full. You’re practically putting on your own performance at this point, getting that good feeling when your shuffle seems to know exactly what songs you need to hear as you start to move your hips a little, getting into it.

You turn and quickly freeze, seeing Joel and your parents standing near the entrance to the kitchen that leads to the rest of the house. Your mouth remains hanging open where it was about to belt out a long note and your eyes immediately hit the floor, but not before you notice Joel holding back the biggest grin. You pull the headphones out of your ears and put on your best polite smile, remembering that your parents aren’t supposed to know just how well you know Joel. You clear your throat, mumbling out a small apology - you don’t think you need to apologize for them walking in on your little show, but you find yourself saying it anyways.

“You remember Joel from next door,” your dad says somewhat awkwardly to try to diffuse the embarrassing tension in the room, and you press your lips together and nod maybe a bit too enthusiastically. Acting natural right now doesn’t feel like your strong suit, but you’re going to try your hardest - it isn’t easy when they’ve just surprised you like this. You are definitely about to tear into him later for not texting you beforehand with a heads up.

“Yeah, of course. Couldn’t forget how helpful you were the other week,” you keep up the smile, feeling like your face is about to crack any second.

“Nice to see ya again,” Joel says with a slight, polite nod, and damn, you’re impressed by how believable he is right now.

“You too,” you say, then look at your parents. “What’s uh, going on?”

“Well, Joel here was so kind and helpful, we wanted him to take a look at the grout in the bathrooms, just to let us know what he thinks. I felt like it needed work when we bought the place, and Joel here has offered to have his crew help us fix it up, isn’t that just so sweet?” Your mom beams at you, and you almost choke a little on your coffee at hearing Joel is about to be that much closer with your parents.

“Oh, wow,” you try to exclaim despite the absolute anxiety tearing through you right now. “That’s awesome. Very, uh, neighborly.”

“No problem at all,” Joel says, turning towards your parents again with a kind smile.

“Oh, honey, would you show him your bathroom too? I know that apartment is a newer addition, but it looked kind of like a rush job to me,” your mom says, and her inner perfectionist is showing big time. You at least have a chance to be alone with Joel for a moment and break this act you’re putting on.

“Sure thing, we’ll be right back,” you say, leading Joel out the door and around to the staircase. The second you’re climbing the stairs, you turn back and look at him wide eyed, and he stifles a laugh.

“Not. Funny,” you grunt out, opening the door. The moment it’s closed behind you, Joel grabs the sides of your head, crushing his lips against yours. You moan a little, immediately grabbing at his waist, wrapping your arms around him and sliding your hand under his shirt and up his back. His lips part and his tongue traces along your lips, begging for entry into your mouth. You return the motion, scrambling your hands all over each other as you make out like two teenagers. You’re against the door now, your need for Joel growing by the second, and you wonder how long you could be gone before it’s suspicious.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, pulling his mouth off of yours. “Come over tonight,” he blurts out. Joel’s forehead is leaning against yours now, his eyes closed.

“Okay. Usual time?”

“Dinner time, 6:30,” Joel says. He breathes for a few moments, unable to tear his forehead from yours. “Wish I could do everything I wanna do to you right now, but we’ll have to wait, won’t we?”

You whimper a little at his response as he pulls further away, heading towards the bathroom. You highly consider jumping him and pulling him down onto your bed, saying screw it to this time constraint and getting him all to yourself for as long as you need. Instead, you lean in the doorway of the bathroom with your arms crossed, watching him work as he inspects various aspects of the tiles and fixtures in there.

“Don’t tell me you’re poutin’” Joel says, glancing over at you.

“No, I just…” You rub a hand down your cheek, feeling a bit stressed out. “I just can’t wait for later,” you say, trying not to sound like the whiny, clingy girl you feel like, thinking that’s likely the last thing Joel’s looking for. He finishes his inspection, walking over to you and kissing you lightly, barely a brush against your lips.

“It’ll be worth the wait, baby, I promise you. Trust me, I’d rather stay cooped up in here with you all day.” You crack a smile - it’s like his words have a lifting effect, hearing that he wants to do the same exact thing you’d thought of moments ago.

“We aren’t done talking about the fact that you just showed up here without warning me, by the way,” you tell him as the two of you make your way back to where your parents are waiting for you.

“Oh, you’re tellin’ me. We are definitely divin’ into that little concert of yours,” Joel says, and you simply scowl and push him on the arm, feeling the embarrassment of the memory hitting you hard.

After talking to your parents, the agreement is that Joel is going to work on your bathroom as well, maybe bring some of his crew in to get it all done quicker. They’re going to work out the logistics of it later, he says, and all you can think about is the fact that he’s going to be in this house for days doing the work, maybe even during times when nobody else is home. You decide maybe it won’t be such a bad thing after all, and you have to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot during the conversation as the realization hits you. In fact, this could work out perfectly, you think - an easy excuse to spend plenty of time around Joel without seeming too obsessive and scaring him the hell away from you.

That evening you knock on the door, despite Joel telling you that you should just start walking in if he’s invited you, but it feels too presumptuous to you at this stage of things, so you settle on continuing to knock. Joel answers the door, opting to not say anything about it, and welcomes you with a grin. You take a step inside and as Joel is closing the door behind you he leans in, capturing your mouth in a long, deep kiss. You melt immediately at the warmth of his lips on yours, and the way he’s brought his arms around your waist as he kisses you.

“Hi there, darlin’” he says, pulling back.

“Hi.” You smile back, and wrap your arms around his neck and lean back in. You kiss him a little more urgently, already feeling the familiar anticipation creeping in that happens whenever you even think about Joel. He gives right into it for a few moments, backing you into the wall right next to the door, pressing his body close.

“Wait,” he says, moving back a bit. “Not right now, or else everything will burn.” It’s like as soon as he says it, the smell immediately hits your nose - you’d been too distracted by him taking up every one of your senses when you walked in to notice that it smells incredible in here. You slide off your shoes, following Joel back to the kitchen with curious eyes peering around. He immediately heads over to the stove, where you see a pan full of bright vegetables cooking, along with a pot of boiling water. There are ingredients all over the surrounding counters, along with the cutting board and dishes he’s been making throughout the cooking process.

“What’s all this?” you ask timidly, approaching closer to the stove, unable to hide the huge smile that’s on your face.

Joel gives the pan a stir and then turns back to you. “What’d I say? Told you I would, so I’m makin’ you dinner, baby,” he replies, and you have to press you upturned lips together in an effort to not squeal in excitement. Not that you necessarily doubted him, but you genuinely thought that was just something people might say and never follow through on.

You let out a small chuckle. “Joel… that’s so… sweet,” you say, feeling somewhat speechless. You approach closer to the stove and look at what he’s doing, but he shoos you away playfully. You reach to move some of the dishes to the sink, and the second Joel notices he stops you.

“Hey, none of that. You go sit over there,” he demands, gesturing over to the kitchen table. You sigh in defeat, but you can’t stop smiling as you sit down, watching Joel pull out a wine glass and set it on the counter.

“You like white wine?” he asks, and you must look surprised, because he adds, “I drink wine too, y’know.”

“I can see that,” you giggle a little, “And yeah, white wine is good with me.” Joel takes your confirmation as a signal to pour you a glass and bring it over.

“How was your day? Other than terrorizing me at my parents’ house?” you ask him as he heads back over to the stove, working to drain the pasta. He laughs, then shakes his head.

“Listen, they approached me, and how could I say no? They’re sweet people.”

You roll your eyes before taking a sip out of your glass. You decide that Joel surprisingly has good taste in wine. “Yes, they are, unfortunately.” You ponder for a few moments before bringing up what you’re thinking. “So, you’re going to be over there quite a bit? For how long?”

“Depends how many people I’m able to spare for the job.”

“Wait, are you, like, in charge at your work?” You crinkle your brow, a little smirk spreading on your face.

“Er, yeah. Tommy and I, we run the contracting company.”

“Oh, shit. That’s so cool, I had no idea.” You really feel like you’re beaming with pride for him being so accomplished, really having his shit together. Meanwhile, you feel the complete opposite these days.

“Thought you only wanted to be around me ‘cause I’m such a big shot, owning my own business and all that.” He looks over his shoulder at you with a wry grin.

“Oh that’s definitely it, yeah.”

“Damn,” Joel quips. “I will be around quite a bit at your parents’ place though, so we’ll have to make it work if you don’t want them to know about… well, us. We’d be officially sneakin’ around.”

“I kind of thought we already were,” you admit with a little smirk.

“Guess that’s true. You’re alright with that?” He stops working on the meal and leans back against the counter, facing you.

“I just assumed… that you didn’t really want people to know we’re messing around. Since it’s just… casual, right?” You say the words awkwardly, realizing that you two hadn’t really talked about this yet, and you have been making a whole lot of assumptions this entire time. You try to fight the little sad twinge that pops up inside of you when you admit about it just being casual, because you’re beginning to worry that for you, it isn’t. You could really see yourself falling much deeper into the way you feel about Joel, and it’s scaring you.

“Yeah, right,” Joel replies after a thoughtful moment. “Just casual. We both like each other, and spendin’ time together, and doin’ other stuff together,” he smirks, and you chuckle a little.

“We do like that other stuff,” you joke, trying to lighten your own internal mood. “So yeah, I guess I’d prefer if my parents don’t know right now, I don’t want to make them feel weird about having you in the house, or something. I don’t know.” You quickly run your hands over your face, feeling the stress of the situation mounting.

“Hey, don’t stress, baby, we’ll figure it out. We can just keep it quiet, then.” He turns back to the stove, trying to finish up the meal. You let him focus on cooking while you’re lost in thought. To be honest, you know logically you should be keeping this relationship quiet for everyone’s comfort, but part of you wants to run outside and scream to the whole world about how obsessed you are with this man. You sigh, downing some more of the wine, and feel yourself wanting to just enjoy this night with Joel instead of focusing on all this other shit.

A few minutes later he’s placing a plate of salad and pasta in front of you. Your eyes go wide at the beautiful, delicious presentation - you’d definitely been right about Joel being a good cook, you think as your nose picks up the scent coming from your plate.

“Wow, Joel,” you exclaim as he sits down across from you with his own plates of food. “What is all of this? Pasta primavera?”

He smiles and nods. “Sure is, I always see you eating those vegetables with dips and hummus and stuff in your yard, so… I figured you might…” he trails off, rubbing his neck. Your mouth hangs open a little, unable to believe that he was this thoughtful with the meal he chose to make. It made the butterflies you already felt around him intensify at the thought that he’d wanted to please you that much with this.

“That’s so thoughtful, Joel,” you say incredulously. “I love this dish, actually, so spot on.” You look up at him with a small, shy glance and then back down to your plate.

“I’m glad, darlin’,” he replies. “Okay, well dig in,” he says, looking expectantly at you, and you realize that maybe for the first time since you’ve met him, he actually seems a bit nervous about something. You’re very tempted to poke fun at him about it, but you decide against taking the opportunity, forking the salad and taking a bite.

“Shit, that’s good,” you call out quickly, covering your mouth as you chew. “That dressing…”

“Er, I made it,” Joel says more quietly than normal before taking a bite of his own.

“You’re not serious. And you tried to act like you’re not a good cook!” you playfully scold him, continuing to dig into the meal. Joel watches you eat with a pleased, satisfied look on his face - this is clearly something he loves doing to take care of people in his life. When you’ve eaten every bite of your meal and downed your wine, Joel refills your glass once, and you sit back a little in your chair and soften your eyes looking in Joel’s direction.

“Thank you,” you say. “I don’t think someone has cooked me anything like this before. A guy, I mean.”

“You’re welcome baby, was all worth it to see that pretty smile on your face,” he says, and your face gets hot from a combination of his words and the alcohol warming your insides. You end up talking for a while longer, Joel’s gaze steadily changing throughout the interaction, until he looks at you with that look, the one you’re beginning to learn very well.

“Want to come upstairs with me?” he finally drawls, the look in his eyes deepening.

You nod, feeling a little breathless already at the insinuation. He stands up and silently takes your hand, leading you to the stairs.

Joel’s bedroom is very much what you expected based on the rest of his house. He walks in and turns on a side lamp, illuminating the room just enough for you to look around a bit easier. There is a blue comforter on the bed, a few pillows, dark wood dressers and night tables, and nature themed photos on the walls.

Joel wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, humming a low groaning sound in your ear. “Been wantin’ this…” he murmurs, and you instantly know what he’s talking about. Your heart pounds a little faster now, knowing you’re finally getting what you’ve wanted too. It doesn’t stop a nervous flutter from your stomach though, knowing just how big he is and what’s about to happen. You lean into him and close your eyes, breathing in his scent as his hands ghost across your back, sending you shuddering a little.

“Me too…” you reply, tilting your head up to kiss him. He takes the cue and captures your mouth with his, his tongue sliding over yours as he kisses and bites lightly on your lip.

“You just impressed me with your cooking to try and seduce me, huh?” you murmur quietly in between kisses.

“Well, did it work?” He arches a brow, looking down at you.

You give him an unimpressed look before kissing him again. “Obviously.”

“Somethin’ tells me I didn’t need to cook all of that to get you up here,” he replies.

“Shut up,” you tease. “You’re not wrong.”

“Cause see… I know exactly what to do to make you go crazy, baby. Wouldn’t have needed to do much…” he pushes into you now, forcing you to take a few steps back, until you feel a wall near the doorway behind you. He’s right, you’re already completely losing your mind at this simple interaction, his form towering over you, dominating you. “All I need to do is ask you to be a good girl and fuck me, and you’d do it.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you feel the dull ache of desire beginning to ignite inside of your core. You haven’t said anything, and Joel is looking at you expectantly. “Isn't that right?” he says, his eyes going darker as he scans your face.

You nod. “Yes.” you manage to breathe out. “Let me be good for you baby, please.” Your body arches towards him, the aching spreading in between your legs and you feel yourself starting to get wet. Joel’s head tilts down and his lips meet your neck, kissing lightly, sending you arching even further into him with a soft moan escaping your lips. The kisses trail down your neck and to your shoulder, where one of his fingers moves under the strap of your dress, pulling it gently down your shoulder where it falls easily. He traces his fingers lightly and teasingly there, planting a kiss on the same spot as his fingers brush down your chest to the top curve of your breast. He brings his head back up and looks at you, that glazed look of desire in his eyes as he watches you react to his fingers brushing over your already hard nipple before dipping back down and kissing your neck again. You inhale sharply, fluttering your eyes closed and leaning your head back against the wall.

Joel grabs your chin, then brings his mouth up to yours, capturing your lips in a ravenous kiss. You’re already a delirious mess for him, returning the kisses with equal passion. His hands are roaming quickly, one tracing down your back while the other squeezes your tits, groaning at the feel of your body underneath his fingers. You reach with slightly trembling hands in between your bodies and start to hastily un-do the buttons on his shirt. He moves his arms so he can shrug the shirt off of him, and you both stop for a moment while you take in his topless body in front of you, dragging your fingers down his chest.

“You have entirely too much clothing on, darlin’,” he drawls, watching your eyes eagerly take his body in. In reply, you pull your dress off over your head and discard it on the floor, leaving only a pair of panties on you now. You watch Joel’s eyes change quickly, and his hands grab under your ass and begin lifting you up, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to hold yourself close as your feet leave the ground. Your legs fling around his hips and wrap tightly around him as he pushes himself in between your legs, completely closing the gap between you two. You’re pushed against the wall, Joel’s strong arms holding you up as he kisses you.

Joel carries you the few steps to his bed and lays you down, immediately covering your body with his as he crawls on top of you. Your legs are still wrapped around him tightly, not giving him any space as you breath heavily, anticipation and nerves building steadily inside of you. You can feel Joel’s cock pressing through his jeans onto your bare leg, and you desperately want it, are beginning to feel a need for it to be inside of you. Joel has begun to steadily kiss his way around your chest, stopping at one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around it. You grit your teeth, bucking your hips into him.

“Joel…” you moan out, reaching your hands down to his belt, fiddling with it while trying to maintain any sense of composure as he steadily works his mouth alternately on both of your nipples. Your cunt is becoming more of a needy, aching thing with every passing second, and you press your hips into nothing, just Joel’s jeans in the way of what you really want. His belt is free and you hastily unzip his pants and reach in, fisting his cock in your hand. Both of you make a relieved groan at feeling one step closer to what you wanted. Joel grunts into your skin as you lightly trace your hand around his shaft, working your way up to the head.

“Always so impatient, baby,” Joel says, his voice coming out slow and down an octave, clearly feeling the pleasure you’re trying to give him with your touch.

“You already know how crazy I feel about your cock,” you reply with a smirk as Joel shoots his gaze up to your face, his expression changing rapidly to the devilish one you’ve seen before. It appears that talking about his cock like that seems to do something for him just like his praises do for you.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” he asks, grinding his hips down a little into your touch, “You think about this cock all day, huh?”

You nod slowly. “Wanting you inside of me, fucking me to pieces, fucking me until I can barely walk. Or move. Or think,” you run your other hand across his shoulder and down his arm, sending goosebumps across Joel’s skin. Joel growls low, pressing himself harder into you. You don’t know why he’s torturing himself like this when he could already be buried deep in your mouth or cunt right now - he knows that’s the only thing you’re eager for, after all.

“I’m sure we can accomplish all of those things tonight, darlin’,” he says, leaning in for a whisper of a kiss on your lips that leaves you wanting more. Just the thought of it has your skin on fire, your core twisting with burning anticipation. You can feel the way your panties are wet with that same anticipation, and you’re practically about to beg for Joel to take them off and see just what he’s doing to you. As if he could read your mind, Joel shifts his body and hooks his thumbs on the sides of your underwear, pulling them down your legs.

“Christ,” he murmurs to himself, seeing the thick line of wetness in your panties, practically dripping from your pussy at this point. “Never gets old, baby,” he says, glancing up at you for a moment. You shy away a little under his stare and the fact that you’re laying bare before him. He tosses the panties somewhere nearby on the floor and feasts his eyes between your legs before quickly diving in to feast with his mouth, as well. It’s unexpected, and you gasp at the sudden feeling of his tongue swiping through you, trying to lick up every bit of wet desire for him down there.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he says, pulling his mouth off of you before he reaches down to start taking his jeans off, and you feel your internal excitement rising as you see him just in his briefs now, a navy blue pair. You lean forward to play with the waistband of his underwear, teasingly sliding your finger along it and giving him begging eyes.

“I know what you want…” he smirks.

“Then give it to me,” you try demanding. He simply tuts and shakes his head, deciding to pull of his briefs, and finally, fucking finally, Joel is naked. You take a deep breath as you look him over as he crawls back over top of you, seeing his cock looking so intimidating and hard. You suddenly feel an anxious trembling taking over your body again - sure, you’ve had 3 of his fingers fit in there, and those are large, but… this? It’s safe to say that despite how badly you want him to fuck you, you’ve been a bit skeptical about how it’s going to feel at first, or even fit. Joel seems to notice you getting in your head, because he reaches up to your face and looks into your eyes.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” he asks softly.

You bite your lip, feeling so ridiculous. “I don’t know if it’s dumb, I’ve been literally dying for this moment but I’m just nervous, about… you know…” and you glance down towards his cock. Joel chuckles a little, but not in a way that he’s laughing at you, more like he finds you endearing the way you’re completely naked and still saying “you know” to reference having sex with him.

“Baby,” he coos, stroking your cheek. “Nothin’ to worry about, okay? You say the word and I’ll stop at any time.”

You smile tightly and nod, feeling a bit more ready than you were. Joel crawls off of you and reaches over to a bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and putting it on. You weirdly find yourself frowning at it, despite the appreciation for him trying to be safe and considerate, you’d kind of hoped to feel all of him today. One thing at a time, you remind yourself.

You try to embolden yourself a little bit, wrapping your legs back around him and settling your hips in a better position underneath him. Joel’s legs are now in between your legs, his cock resting close to your entrance. You almost whine at the feeling of it, just the head feeling so big against your folds. Your body responds before you can even think, sending your hips forward a bit into him, and Joel takes that as a cue to push his own hips forward as well. The head of his cock pushes in and you gasp a little - at the way it feels and surprise that it isn’t quite as uncomfortable as you’d expected. You moan softly, fingers running down Joel’s back, and you decide to push your hips up a little more, pulling him a bit deeper. Joel groans in pleasure, pressing his lips together for a moment to compose himself.

“Perfect fucking pussy,” he breathes out each word slowly as he slides in further, and you gasp softly again, but don’t stop him. You’re starting to wonder what you were so worried about, but then you realize how full you feel and he isn’t even all the way in yet. You give Joel a cheeky smile and guide him down into you with your legs that still are wrapped around him. You let out a breathy chuckle at the feeling of him sliding in as far as your body will let him.

“My god,” you murmur, blinking a few times as you adjust to it. Joel strokes the side of your head, smoothing your hair, giving you a sweet smile and eyes that are glazed over with the heat of the moment.

“That’s it,” he says softly, “My good girl.” You beam at him now, adjusting your hips a little, and it elicits a slightly shaky breath out of Joel at the feeling of him shifting inside of you. He can’t help it, he starts moving, gentle thrusts partially in and out of you. Everything he’s done to you and with you has been beyond your imagination, but this… there are no words, you think.

“F-fuck,” you stammer out quietly as he moves a little quicker, sliding his cock in and out of you. It definitely feels like a stretch on you, but in the best way, you’ve never felt so fucking full before like this and it’s making you feel insane with the pleasure of it. “Need you faster,” you say quietly, completely overcome.

“Insatiable,” he teases, one of his favorite ones for you, with a smug grin. But he gives you what you’re asking for, upping the pace of himself inside of you. You moan, feeling him touching that perfect spot deep inside of you, lightly now, but your anticipation for him to slam against it is sending an excited nervousness into your belly. Your legs around him anchor you as you lift your hips up to meet him with each thrust, your breathing shaky.

“Don’t forget, you’re s’posed to not be able to walk after this, remember?” Joel says with a grin. You don’t get a chance to reply, because he’s decided to try and make that a reality right now as he pushes hard into your cunt, leaving you breathless. He begins thrusting rhythmically much faster into you, his hands grasping into your hips tightly, digging into your ass and squeezing. He pulls you close to him, his body right against yours as he buries his head down next to your neck.

“This tight little pussy…. so perfect, sweet girl,” he groans into your ear, showering you with kisses along your neck before looking right into your eyes. “It’s all mine…” he says quietly, and the heat behind his stare almost makes you shy away. You nod, and let out a breathy “yes,” barely able to speak with the way his cock is pushing deep inside of you with every movement of his.

“Tell me,” he says, his stare not letting up.

“It’s all yours, this pussy is all yours, Joel,” you cry out, and your words are his fuel as his hips roll slightly with every push now, his breathing heavy.

“That’s fucking right.” Joel’s pace doesn’t let up, and uses one hand to play with your tits and the other reaches down to your clit, rubbing circles. You’re completely submerged in just him, every part of your mind focused on the places you can feel him pleasuring you, and it’s overwhelming. Your whole body shakes a bit, trying to adjust to all of these sensations at once, and it’s building up to a climax quicker than you realized as the familiar tingling sensation grows inside of you.

“Fuck, just like that,” you cry out, praying he doesn’t let up - your climax is right there, you’re barreling towards it, just one more perfect touch and -

It hits you suddenly, Joel’s cock pressing right where you need him, and your insides burst with the fiery, tingling sensation you crave from him. Your hips buck forward, and you moan long and low, his name spilling from your lips in between each one. Your hips are spasming, pushing you into him, and he grunts, keeping up with the pace of what you need to ride out your climax. You slowly stop shuddering, relaxing back for a moment with quick breaths. You open your eyes and catch Joel smiling down at you, still slowly moving his cock inside of you. It feels good, soothing almost, on your sensitive cunt.

“We’re far from done here.” His voice goes down low again as his hips pick up the pace a little bit. You can’t really speak yet to reply, so you nod a little with heavy lidded eyes, willing to give him whatever it is that he wants.

Keeping himself inside of you, Joel picks you up by the hips, flipping you so that he’s underneath you now, and your legs straddle him while you sink down onto his cock. He groans at the new angle and depth he’s getting right now, and you have to say, it’s doing something for you too. Despite you being on top, Joel still takes all the control, grabbing your hips tightly as he practically lifts you up and slams you down onto his cock. You bounce on your legs a little, helping him along, but he’s the one setting the pace. You rake your hands down his chest before bending forward, settling onto him so that your face is in the crook of his neck. Your breath tickling there seems to urge him along, and he bends his legs up a little to support your ass as he continues to move your body for you, quickening the pace. The way you’re positioned, you’re getting just enough movement on your clit from your bodies touching that you can feel another climax building up quickly. You moan, feeling the depth of Joel’s cock inside of you as he pulls you all the way down onto him in hard, eager, movements.

“Yeah,” he grunts, “Good girl, such a good girl. Come on this cock again, baby,” Joel demands, and you know that he can feel how close you are again. You can’t help but roll your hips a little each time he brings you down onto him, until you’re crazed, trying to pull yourself down more quickly than he is.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Joel,” you cry out, and holy fuck it’s amazing. Another bursting of tension rushes through you, and your body is tight against Joel’s, pushing your hips into him quickly and desperately like your life depends on it. Your moans cover over the loud slapping of flesh, echoing through the room until Joel starts whispering praises in your ear.

“Mmm,” he groans, “That’s it, comin’ so good for me, sweetheart.” His words feel incredible as you soak them in during all of this, your body shuddering on top of him as you can feel the ridiculous size of him pumping into you. In this dazed moment of passion, you want to do good, only good, for him, you want to worship him and let him fuck you any way he wants, anywhere, any time. You don’t think you could deny anything to someone that feels this amazing as you clench around them.

“God, Joel, I’d do anything to be good for you,” you whine out, almost unintentionally, coming down from your climax. You can’t even regret it when you feel this intoxicated by him right now.

“Oh, baby, you already are.” He strokes your hair, brushing sweaty strands off your face, and you pull your head off of his shoulder and stare at him with glassy eyes. It takes everything in Joel not to come right there with the way it feels to be looking at that expression while his cock still rests inside of you. “So good for me,” he reiterates, looking at you with amazement.

“Anything…” you murmur, blinking slowly, unsure even what you’re trying to convey. All you know is you’re moving your hips again slowly, wanting him to feel the pleasure you’d just received. Joel’s breath hitches a little, and he lets out a few whispered moans. You watch his face closely, and suddenly his expression hardens, as if he’s made up his mind on something.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commands, and you blink for a moment, trying to come out of the post-orgasm daze you’d been in to slide off of him and move as he’s directing you. He sits up once you’re off of his lap, and he quickly helps you redirect your body, grabbing you by the hips as you try to plant your hands on the bed and stick your ass up further for him. You breathe heavily, anticipating what he’s going to do next.

What you don’t expect is for him to smack your ass hard, but once he does it, a rushing feeling goes through you. He had said he was going to smack your ass on that first night, and now he was holding to it.

“That’s for all the times you were teasin’ me, girl,” his raspy voice chokes out before slapping both of his palms onto your ass cheeks and gripping them. “Said this was a perfect fucking ass.” He lets go, and you whine a little, not sure where this urge for him to continue doing it came from, but like many experiences with Joel, you seem to be learning a lot about yourself.

“You think…” you breathe out as you glance over your shoulder at him, “Just the one smack will do?” Joel laughs deviously in reply, leaning his body over top of yours and getting close to your ear. You can feel his cock brush against you, so hard and throbbing that you feel yourself get wet at the mere touch of it on your leg.

“Does my good girl want to be punished? Is that it?” he says, a darker grit to his voice coming through, and you nod furiously, looking at him with a begging stare. He can barely contain himself, grunting as he moves back, pressing his hips flush with your ass. One hand pushes down on the middle of your back, pressing the front half of you into the mattress, leaving your ass lifted up off the bed. Joel positions himself quickly, a frantic energy to him as he slides his cock between your legs, coating himself in your wetness. Then he plunges in with no mercy, giving all of himself at once, his entire length slamming into your cunt. You yelp at the sensation, but the sound is covered completely by a loud smack on your ass, then another.

You moan as your pussy stretches to take him all over again, and at this angle it’s absolutely devastating. Joel’s hand is still holding you down, and you’re only able to stay right here, taking exactly what he gives to you as he moves his cock into you as deep as he can go, over and over. He smacks your ass again, and it’s starting to sting more, but you find it’s urging you on, and you fucking like it. Despite Joel’s hold on you, you’re able to slide your hand off of the mattress and reach up to start rubbing your aching clit.

Joel’s hand moves from your back, reaches around you, and covers your own, stopping the movement on your clit for a moment before he wraps his hand around yours and begins directing the motions, putting himself in charge of your pleasure once again. The added pressure of his hand on your clit is already close to pushing you over the edge and you find that you find you physically can’t stop making noise, whimpering and moaning for your climax that’s so close within reach now.

Joel’s other hand soothingly rubs your stinging ass cheek, and you find your hips pushing back into it, wishing he’d smack it again. When he does, a louder groan slips out of your mouth and you feel the beginning of another orgasm rolling through you. Joel’s hand continues to move your finger frantically over your clit, and your hips buck into it as Joel keeps up the pace of his thrusting hips into you. It’s all so much, too much, and you’re crying out for him as the sensation sweeps your entire body and your muscles go tense and rigid with the pure pleasure of it all.

“F-fu-uck,” you manage to push out of your throat, barely able to get anything out that isn’t a scream for Joel. His breathing is quick, erratic, now and he plunges deep into you at the tail end of your orgasm.

“Gonna come baby, right in that pussy,” he groans out. “Tell me again, that it’s mine.”

“It’s all yours, Joel. My tight little cunt is all for you,” you sigh, feeling him tense as his cock drives all the way in once more

“Yeah, that’s right, baby,” he moans out, one of his hands holding tight onto your ass while he bucks his hips a few times as he comes. Your breathing quickens slightly again feeling him pump into you, knowing that you were able to undo him like that. He stays as he is, still inside of you, collapsing onto your back a little bit.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, relaxing a little bit. “You feel so fucking good, my sweet girl.”

You completely relax down onto the bed, and Joel turns onto his side and tucks you into him, still refusing to pull out of you. He moves the now sticky hair off of your neck and plants light kisses there as he spoons you. You moan quietly into it, feeling the prickle of his stubble on your sensitive skin there and the way his still heavy breaths hit you. After a few more moments, Joel scoots his hips back, finally pulling out of you, and it’s such a difference in feeling you find that your mouth opens in shock for a second. You also unsurprisingly find that you miss the feeling already, desperate for more now that you’ve had this taste of it.

You lay there, completely still and practically stunned speechless as Joel slides out of bed and over to the bathroom attached to his bedroom to take off the condom. He returns moments later, laying back down next to you and observing your expression. He reaches over and pulls you back to him, nestling you into his side as you put your head on his shoulder.

“How’re you feeling, hm?” he says, nudging you a little.

“I feel…” you say quietly, taking a deep breath in and thinking of any word to describe this indescribable feeling you’re having right now. “Wow,” you finish with the out breath, and Joel laughs, his chest rumbling your tangled bodies.

“Wasn’t too much, right?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned for you.

“What? No,” you say quickly, moving your eyes to his face. “That was everything.”

“Everything, huh?” he teases you, pulling you in a little tighter.

“Everything,” you respond, staring intently at him.

“It was really somethin’, I’ll give ya that. Can’t believe just how good you are to me, baby,” he says, nuzzling his head down onto yours a bit and then kissing your forehead.

“You make it easy, you know.” You feel a little shy at how mushy you feel like you’re being right now, and it’s hard to meet his eyeline suddenly.

“Oh yeah? How’s that, darlin’?”

“You’re good to me first,” you say, smiling up at him. “Makes me want to do anything you want or need, to keep you happy.”

“Baby, you have no idea how well you’re keepin’ me happy,” he replies, with a big squeeze of your entire body, and you giggle, then laugh even harder when his hands brush a little on a ticklish spot on your side. You squirm, but Joel flips himself onto you, pinning you down before slowly tracing a finger over the spot he’d tickled moments earlier. You squeal, writhing under him.

“Stop!” you gasp, continuing to laugh and fight his grip.

He catches your mouth in a kiss, immediately sliding his tongue against your bottom lip, then dancing it into your mouth to meet yours. You return the motions, pulling back slightly after to nip at his lip before diving in for more. Joel pulls away reluctantly, looking down at you like he could do this for hours. You instantly go a little red at the way his eyes are lit up and fixed on you laying naked underneath him. Despite the way he’s starting to turn you on all over again, you can already feel the aching soreness in between your legs that you know is going to stay there throughout tomorrow, and you decide against going another round with him.

“It’s fair to say I think walking will be difficult right now, so we accomplished that” you blurt out, your way of saying you two should probably call it for the night. He rolls off of you with a satisfied smirk, settling down next to you on the bed. You readjust, catching the time on Joel’s bedside clock in the process, and tense up, realizing how late it’s getting. You start moving, standing off the bed and searching the floor for your underwear as you gather your dress in your arms.

“What’re you doin’?” Joel asks with a concerned expression, propping his head up a little off the pillows.

“I- I was going to head out, I saw it’s getting kind of late.” You twist your mouth to the side and bite your lip nervously, fiddling with the fabric in your hands. You feel so exposed right now, standing completely naked and feeling too awkward and shy to just ask to spend the night, even though it’s what you really want.

“You don’t have to do all that, darlin’,” he replies, rubbing the sheets where you’d just been laying. “Come back to bed.” Your eyes widen, and you feel yourself tense with excitement at what he’s implying.

“Can I -“ you start, and Joel nods with a kind half smile.

“I wanna wake up next to you tomorrow, sweet girl,” he says, and your heart leaps a little. You press your lips together to repress some of your smile, not wanting to give away just how happy what he said made you. You drop your clothes and slowly crawl back into the bed. Joel reaches for the bedside lamp to turn it off, plunging you two into darkness aside from the moonlight streaming in. He pulls the sheet up over you both, then his body is up against yours again, seemingly unable to stop holding you close.

You’re exhausted, but you want nothing more than to stay in this moment with him. “When’re we seeing each other again?” you murmur out sleepily.

“My god, you insatiable girl,” Joel chuckles heartily. “Tomorrow mornin’.”

“After that,” you whine.

“Very soon, baby. No use worrying about it now.” He takes a look at your heavy eyes, blinking slowly in an attempt to stay awake. “Get some sleep, darlin’,” he says, continuing to hold you.

You agree with an affirming noise, letting your eyes close, but you feel like you can’t shake the worry he’s telling you not to have. You feel like all of this is too good to be true, that any moment will be your last with him. You’re starting to have more and more of a hard time separating the physical and mental aspects of this thing you’ve jumped into with Joel, and it’s gnawing at you as you try to fall asleep. You said earlier in the night that things were casual, but had you really meant it? And what the hell would it mean going forward if you hadn’t?

#i loooove them so much #i need joel to smack my ass when is it my turn????#fic: closer #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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cheerscoops · 2 years

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Coffee Cups and Unconditional Love

Summary: Wayne Munson has been there for his nephew since before he was born, and he'll be there for him for the rest of his life - a.k.a. an explanation of why Wayne Munson owns so many coffee mugs as told through his relationship with his nephew

CW/TW: alcoholism, mentions of child neglect, death, illegal activities, dismissal of mental health issues because it's the 70s/80s, season 4 spoilers if you haven't finished yet

Word Count: 17.6k

A/N: I'm just gonna apologize in advance for this one. It was a labor of love, and I hurt my own feelings writing it.

April 1965

Wayne Munson was a simple man with simple tastes. It didn't take much to make him happy. A couple cigarettes from his pack of smokes, a cold beer, and a working radio were the only things he needed to unwind after a long shift at the plant. He mostly lived off of TV dinners, cold sandwiches, and cereal, and that was fine with him. He had never been the greatest cook, and not wasting his time in the kitchen gave him more energy for work anyway.

At the age of twenty-three, he only had a few more payments left to make on his trailer before he owned it outright, and he had a foldout bed for his younger brother Richard to use when things weren't going so great with their parents. He'd made it clear that his home was always open to him, no questions asked.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't surprised to find his brother and a crying girl sitting on his front step when he got back from the grocery store.

Wayne was a man of few words, and the few he did have did not equip him with the skills to handle a clearly distraught, sixteen year old girl. He and his brother exchanged a look before he wordlessly ushered the two inside.

He put on a fresh pot of coffee before busying himself with putting away his groceries, occasionally glancing over to where his brother was attempting to calm down the crying girl on his sofa.

"Everything is gonna be okay, Linda," he heard his brother say. "Wayne'll know what to do."

Once his groceries were put away and the coffee was finished brewing, he realized that he only had the one coffee mug. He found a couple of plastic juice cups in the back of one of his cabinets and poured the coffee into those and the lone mug. He set the mug in front of the girl and then handed one of the cups to his brother. He held his own cup as he sat down in the chair across from the couch.

Before he could ask what in the world was going on, the girl gave him a funny look.

“Where are your other mugs?” she asked as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I’ve only got the one,” he replied.

“Who only owns one coffee mug?”

Wayne shrugged.

“My mother owns three entertaining sets in different patterns with eight mugs a piece. I can’t imagine someone only having one mug.”

She sniffled a bit, but it seemed as though she’d stopped crying for now.

“Don’t really need more than one when you live alone,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. “Now, does someone wanna tell me why you were crying on my porch?”

Wayne looked back and forth between the two as they shared a look, both hesitant to come right out and say it.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Richie.”

“Linda’s pregnant,” Richie blurted out as he started talking a mile a minute. “We didn’t plan for it to happen or anything, but it did. And then her parents found out, and all hell broke loose. You shoulda heard what they said about me, Wayne. About us. About our family.”

Even without being there, Wayne could imagine it pretty perfectly. Their parents weren’t exactly the greatest people, and there was a reason he’d left home as soon as he could, a reason why he had a spare bed specifically for his brother. Their dad was a mean drunk and took it out on everyone around him. The neighbors would hear him yelling, and the next morning, broken furniture would be sitting on the curb waiting for the next garbage pickup. Their mom just made excuses for him and watched as it happened. A bystander in her own life sweeping up broken glass and scrubbing beer stains out of the carpet. They weren’t exactly the kind of family that you’d want your daughter to involve herself with. Wayne had some firsthand experience with that fact.

“It was just awful,” Linda said as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “They told me I could either stay with my cousins in Kentucky until I had the baby and gave it up, or I could get out of their house. So, I got up, and I marched out with Richie.”

“I didn’t know where else to take her,” Richie continued. “There’s no way I’d leave her at mom and dad’s, and I just panicked and brought her here. We could help pay your bills or buy groceries or anything else you need. I got that job that I was telling you about - the one as a bag boy down at the grocery store.”

“And I’m going to pick up as many extra shifts at the diner as I can until I’m too pregnant to work,” Linda added, talking over Richie. “And we’ll help out around here with anything you need. You’ll barely even know we’re here.”

Wayne ran a hand over the back of his neck and abandoned his coffee on the table.

“Where’s all your stuff?” he asked. “You’re gonna need stuff if you’re moving in.”

“They didn’t give me time to pack when they threw me out,” she replied. “But I still have my house key, so Richie was going to take me back over there to get my things tomorrow when I know they’re both out of the house.”

“And I was gonna head over and grab my own stuff after we talked to you,” Richie continued. “Didn’t want to show up here with a bunch of stuff if we were gonna have to go somewhere else. I figured she could use the fold out I usually sleep on, and I can sleep on the couch.”

“No, you’ll take my room,” Wayne said as he moved to get up from his seat. “I’ll be fine out here. Just gotta straighten it up a little bit for you.”

Before he could leave the room, Wayne was practically knocked over by the force of Linda leaping up to wrap her arms around him in a tight embrace.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she said.

He awkwardly patted her on the back.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “I’d do anything for my brother.”

The next day, Wayne busied himself with getting his room ready for Linda and Richie to move into while they were out collecting Linda’s things. When the couple returned, Linda handed a brown paper bag to Wayne.

“These are for you,” she said with a smile. “A little thank you for all that you’re doing for us.”

Wayne opened the bag, and inside, he found three different coffee mugs - one dark green, one light blue with pink rosettes, and one yellow and white striped.

“I snagged a mug from each of my mother’s entertaining sets. It’ll drive her nuts, and now you have enough mugs for us all to have a cup of coffee. Everybody wins.”

The gift of coffee mugs wasn’t the only way Linda started to improve his life. She actively scolded him about the way he’d been eating and told him that she was going to fix his diet even if it killed her in the process. And so his TV dinners were reserved for the nights when Linda was working the dinner shift at the diner and hadn’t planned for leftovers that Wayne and Richie could easily reheat on their own.

She’d promised that he’d barely even know that they were there, but she made her loving presence known.

October 1965

Wayne ducked out of his shift at the plant several hours early when he got the call that Linda had gone into labor. His brother wanted him there for support, and he wanted to meet his niece or nephew the second they were born, so he was happy to do it. He sat in the waiting room for hours until his brother came to grab him.

“Ready to meet your nephew?” Richie asked him as they entered the hospital room.

Wayne’s attention was immediately drawn to Linda sitting up in bed cradling her tiny son. She was sweaty, and her wavy, dark hair was even messier than it normally was, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen her look happier in the six months he’d known her.

“Do you want to hold him?” Linda asked, never looking away from the baby in her arms.

Wayne nodded and made his way to sit in one of the chairs by her bed. Richie carefully took the baby from his girlfriend’s arms and placed him in Wayne’s awaiting hold.

“Wayne, meet Eddie. Eddie, this is your Uncle Wayne.”

"Hey Eddie," Wayne whispered, as he cradled the newborn. "It's nice to meet you."

"His full name is Edward Wayne Munson," Linda said, causing Wayne's gaze to snap up from the baby in his arms to look over at her.

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?"

Wayne's heart swelled, and he would have been lying if he said that he didn't get a bit choked up.

Wayne was often awake with Linda during the late night feedings. With Richie still going to school and working extra shifts whenever he could to support his little family, he needed all the sleep he could get, so Linda would take Eddie into the living room whenever he got fussy.

"Are you sure this is alright?" she'd asked the first time she accidentally woke him up.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "I've always been more of a night owl anyway."

So the two would sit together at the tiny kitchen table as Linda fed her son, a light blanket draped over her chest to protect her modesty. Not that Wayne would have ever stared at his brother's girl. He'd come to think of her as the sister he never had, and he was fiercely protective of her. He'd make her tea, and she'd tease him about how nice it was to have more than one mug to share between them.

"If I didn't steal my mother's mugs, we wouldn't be able to have nights like these," she said. "And wouldn't that be a shame?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" he asked with a small laugh.

"The handle was chipped, Wayne. You only had one mug, and it wasn't even in good condition."

"I've never needed much."

"Well, you'll never have to drink out of a chipped mug again. I'll make sure of it."

On the nights where Eddie was particularly fussy and wouldn't go back to sleep after being fed and changed, Linda would move over to the couch and pass the baby over to Wayne. Wayne would sit in the worn out rocking chair that he'd picked up at the Goodwill, and he'd slowly rock with him as she made herself comfortable. By the dim light of the lamp on the end table, she'd read aloud from her beat up copies of the Lord of the Rings novels, and Eddie would fall asleep to the daring adventures of hobbits and elves with his uncle’s finger in his grasp.

December 1965

Eddie was only a little bit over two months old for his first Christmas, and he could barely hold his own head up, but Linda still went over the top to make it as special as she could on her limited budget.

They couldn’t afford to get Eddie’s photo professionally taken with the Santa at the big department store in the city. It was just too expensive if she wanted to put any gifts under the modest tree that they were all pretty sure Richie had chopped down illegally. Instead, she placed her son in the Christmas stocking that she’d found at Goodwill and stitched his name onto and had Wayne take pictures of him with his beat up polaroid camera. They didn’t have anyone that they wanted to send the pictures to, so every single one was hung up on the refrigerator until Linda decided it was time to add them to her photo album.

“Next year, I want pictures of him playing in the snow,” Linda said as she looked at the collage of photos on their fridge. “And I’m getting a picture of him with Santa even if I have to force one of you to dress up to make it happen.”

On Christmas morning, the three of them sat in a circle on the floor in front of the tree with baby Eddie laying on his stomach in the middle. They all knew that he was too young to know what was going on, but Linda made a point of setting each of Eddie’s gifts in front of him so he could marvel at the brightly colored comics that she’d wrapped them in. There weren’t many presents under the tree, and they were all for Eddie anyway, so everyone was content to sit there with their morning cups of coffee for as long as the baby wasn’t fussy.

“Oh, before I forget,” Linda said as she popped up from her seat leaning against the sofa. She headed back to the bedroom and returned with a small parcel wrapped up in newsprint. She handed it over to Wayne as she sat back down and pulled her son into her lap.

“I thought we agreed on no gifts?” Wayne asked. “Save all our money to make things special for the kid?”

“It’s not from me,” Linda said as Eddie gripped her finger. “It’s from Eddie, of course, and you can’t expect him to follow our rules. He’s just a baby after all.”

Wayne sighed and carefully unwrapped the gift. Inside the crumpled newspaper was a coffee mug with “World’s Best Uncle” hand-painted on the side along with a bright blue baby handprint of Eddie’s.

“It’s not much,” Richie said. “But we hope it shows even a little bit of how thankful we are for everything you’ve done for us.”

“It’s perfect,” Wayne replied. “Really. Thank you.”

April 1967

For Wayne’s twenty-fifth birthday, he insisted that he didn’t need any gifts, and he didn’t want them to make any sort of a fuss over him.

“You’re being absolutely ridiculous,” Linda told him. “We can’t just skip your birthday.”

“I’m happy with what I have,” he said with a shrug. “We don’t need to bring more stuff into this trailer, and I’d much rather just spend the day playing with Eddie and maybe listen to the ball game on the radio if there is one.”

“That’s fine, I guess. But I’m making you your favorite dinner. And a cake. I’ll maybe even get some ice cream to go with it. And we’re singing to you while wearing party hats made out of newspaper whether you like it or not. It’s been decided, and I will not fight with you on this one, Wayne.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a laugh.

So, on his birthday, Linda made a pot roast slow roasted with carrots and onions and a side of mashed potatoes with extra, extra gravy. For dessert, there was a double chocolate chip cake with vanilla frosting and strawberry ice cream. Wayne didn’t fight about the newspaper hat that Linda made him wear, and he pretended that he didn’t hate being the center of attention when they all sang to him if only because he got to hold Eddie while it was happening. The eighteen month old tried to feed him a handful of cake before shoving it in his own mouth and giggling wildly.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Linda set a small gift in front of him. He knew what it was without even opening it. Every time she thought of giving him a gift, it was a coffee mug, and he had started giving the same to her. They’d started an almost competition of sorts, seeing who could find the most interesting mug at Goodwill or one of the small thrift stores in the city. This one was beige and had the words Ohio University Grandma printed in green on the side. It might have been the best one yet.

“We have something else for you,” Richie told him after sharing a look with Linda. “A gift we couldn’t really wrap.”

“I expected the mug, but I told you guys that you didn’t have to give me anything.”

“We know, but this is a really important gift,” his brother continued. “We’re giving you your bedroom back.”

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind sleeping in the living room. We’ve been over this a hundred times. You need your privacy more than I do, and with the kid, you need the extra space.”

“We know that’s how you feel, Wayne,” Linda said. “But it’s time for you to start sleeping on a real bed again.”

“Which is why we’re moving out,” Richie blurted out.

“You’ve been so good to us these past two years,” Linda continued. “And we are so grateful for everything you’ve done for us and the life you helped us build. It’s because of everything that you did that we know we’re ready to take this step.”

“I finally grew a pair and asked her to marry me, and we found an apartment that’ll be ready for us to move into next month. It’s not going to be easy, but we’re excited. Really excited.”

“Well, I’m really happy for you guys,” Wayne told them. “Truly. But you’re gonna leave the kid with me, right? I’m way too attached to him to let him leave.”

As if agreeing with Wayne, Eddie reached up and pressed a sticky, chocolate-covered hand onto his uncle’s cheek. Wayne dug his fingers into the boy’s side and smiled down at him as he giggled and squirmed.

“I don’t know,” Linda said. “I think I’d miss him too much.”

She looked at her son as if he was the whole world, and to her, he probably was.

“You’re probably right.”

“But you’ll still see us all the time,” she promised. “We’ll be over here bothering you every chance that we get, and as soon as we’re settled into our place, we’ll be having you over for dinner every single Sunday night. You’ll get sick of us and be longing for some peace and quiet before you know it.”

Wayne didn’t know how to tell them he didn’t need peace and quiet anymore. He’d grown used to coming home from work to see his nephew playing in the living room and laughing as he toddled around the trailer. He was used to Linda singing loudly and off-key along with every song on the radio as she busied herself in the kitchen. He was used to his brother cracking jokes and making loud comments about every single sport he watched on TV. He was used to there being too many people in his tiny trailer, and he didn’t want that to change.

But he was proud of them. So extraordinarily proud of the two of them and the life they were building together. In the past two years, he’d watched them grow from a couple of scared kids into the loving parents that neither of them had ever had themselves. It would hurt to live apart from them, but he knew that it was what was best for all of them.

May 1970

“Munson residence,” Wayne said as he answered his ringing phone.

“Wayne, it’s Linda,” the voice on the other end of the phone replied.

“I was just about to head over to your apartment. Need me to pick up anything on my way?”

It wasn’t unusual for Linda to ask him to pick up something on the way to dinner. Especially now that she was in college. She’d gotten her GED the year before and was about to finish her first year of schooling to become a teacher. Now that Eddie was a little older and getting ready to start preschool, she was ready to give up her waitressing job and work towards something more stable that fit better with her life as a young mom. Something that would allow her to be home for his bedtime every night.

“Actually, I was calling to ask you for a different sort of favor. I hate to cancel our dinner so last minute, but Richie got called into work for an extra overnight inventory shift at the grocery store, and I have a huge group presentation for one of my classes due tomorrow. Normally, I would give you more notice, but I was wondering if I could maybe drop Eddie off over there for a sleepover? Richie would be able to pick him up first thing in the morning when he gets off work, and this way I can meet up with my classmates to put the finishing touches on our project. I’d owe you a huge favor.”

“You know he’s always welcome over here. Are you heading over now?”

“In a little bit. I still have to pack an overnight bag for the kiddo. One of the girls from my group is going to pick me up, and then we’ll drop Eddie off with you before we head over to the library.”

“Sounds good to me. See you soon.”

While waiting for his sister-in-law and nephew to show up, Wayne looked through the kitchen to see if he actually had anything that he could feed Eddie for dinner. He hadn’t been expecting to have to cook that night, and he usually did his weekly grocery shopping on Mondays before he came home from work. He supposed he could make the kid a TV dinner if it came down to it, and he maybe had a can of soup or two in the cupboard, but neither were up to the standards of the food that Linda normally made him.

But, when Linda arrived with Eddie, she entered the trailer carrying dinner for them.

“I’d already started cooking before Richie got called into work,” she said as she set the lasagna down on the table. “I knew you wouldn’t have had a solid dinner plan, and I wasn’t going to let two of my favorite boys get stuck eating what I’m sure would have been TV dinners.”

“You know me too well.”

Before Linda could respond, Eddie took a running leap at his uncle who caught him easily.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie said as he clung to his uncle’s chest. “We get to have a sleepover! And mama said I can stay up an extra half hour ‘cause it’s a special occasion!”

“She did? Well, that’s a good thing because I was thinking we could have a campout in the living room, and maybe if it’s okay with your mama, we could even make some hot chocolate.”

Eddie shifted in Wayne’s arms to face his mom and fixed her with his best pleading gaze, all puppy dog eyes and pouty bottom lip. The kid had them all wrapped around his little finger, and he knew it.

“How could I say no to this precious face? It’s fine with me,” Linda said with a small laugh at her son’s excitement at her answer.

Wayne set Eddie down on the counter next to the sink.

“Why don’t you wash your hands while I talk to your mama, and then you and I will have some dinner, okay?”

Eddie nodded vigorously and turned on the water, so Wayne turned his attention back to Linda.

“Alright, so bedtime is anywhere between seven thirty and eight tonight. He’s gonna be home with Richie all day tomorrow, and I know it’s going to be a lazy sleepy day anyway, so he’ll get plenty of rest if he doesn’t sleep enough tonight. His pajamas and clothes for tomorrow are in his backpack, but if you don’t have him dressed before he gets picked up, that’s fine, too. If he wants a bedtime story, Peter Pan is his favorite right now, and he usually falls asleep around the second chapter. That’s somewhere in his bag with Mister Lion. I gave him a bath earlier, so you don't need to worry about that, but make sure he brushes his teeth. He will try to convince you that he doesn’t need to, but he wants to be just like his Uncle Wayne, so if you brush your teeth when it’s time for him to, he shouldn’t put up too much of a fight. I don’t think I’m forgetting anything, but it’s not like you’ve never watched him before. You know how to handle my little hellraiser better than anyone.”

She looked over towards her son who was now laying with his stomach flat against the counter as he clapped his hands under the running water repeatedly trying to make the biggest splash he possibly could. She moved to turn off the sink before sitting her son upright on the counter and drying his hands off with the dish towel.

“Were you making a mess of the kitchen, you little stinker?” she teased as she skittered her fingers across her son’s belly.

“No,” he replied through his giggles as he curled in on himself. She stopped tickling him and ruffled his messy curls that matched her own.

“You be good for your Uncle Wayne, okay? Daddy will be here to pick you up first thing in the morning. Now give mama big hugs and kisses.”

Eddie stood up on the counter and flung his arms around Linda’s neck. Once she’d wrapped her arms around the boy, he moved his hands to squish her cheeks as he smothered her with as many kisses as he could give.

“I love you so much, Eddie Bear,” she told him, laughing as he kissed one of her eyes.

“I love you more,” he replied.

“And I love you most.”

She gave him one last big squeeze and kissed his forehead before setting him down on the ground.

“Alright, I’ve kept Sandy waiting out in the car long enough. Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Wayne and Eddie had a relatively easy night together. They ate dinner, and Eddie didn’t fuss when Wayne had to wash the sauce off of his face afterwards. He sat at the kitchen table drawing pictures with the crayons and notebook paper they kept at the trailer for him while his uncle cleaned up the kitchen, and he narrated all of his art as he drew. They had the hot chocolate that Wayne promised with extra marshmallows, and there were no complaints about brushing teeth since Wayne was brushing his teeth, too. Wayne set up the foldout bed in the living room with an extra set of sheets and the fuzzy yellow blanket that was Eddie’s favorite. They both changed into their pajamas, and then they read four chapters of Peter Pan before Eddie fell asleep on the couch curled up against his uncle’s side with his fingers threaded through Mister Lion’s mane. Wayne carefully moved the sleeping boy to the bed and placed a kiss on his forehead. He fell asleep on the couch shortly after.

Wayne always woke up at five without an alarm clock no matter what time he went to bed the night before. It was both a blessing and a curse. Being careful to keep quiet enough that he wouldn’t wake Eddie, he made his way to the bathroom to take a quick shower before his brother got there. He didn’t know when his brother would be there, so he wanted to be ready to head to the plant early just in case he’d be racing out the door.

When he was finished getting ready, he headed into the kitchen where he found a very sleepy looking Eddie with the fuzzy, yellow blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was dragging Mister Lion by his tail behind him.

"What are you doing up, Eds? Did I wake you?" he asked.

"Bad dream," Eddie replied, sniffling a little. “‘Mnot scared, but Mister Lion needed a hug.”

Wayne scooped Eddie up, and the boy immediately wrapped his arms around his uncle’s neck.

“I got ya, buddy,” he said as he rubbed the boy’s back. “I got ya.”

Wayne continued to hold Eddie as he moved around the kitchen and started his morning coffee. Once he’d poured himself a cup, he headed to sit down on the couch.

“Why don’t you try to get a little more sleep, Eds?” he suggested. “I’ll start making breakfast after I finish my coffee, and then I’ll get you up, okay?”

Eddie nodded a little and moved to curl up next to his uncle on the couch not wanting to stray too far from the comfort that he’d found.

By the time Wayne had finished his coffee and used the little he had left in his kitchen to make some scrambled eggs and toast for the boy, it was close to seven. He had to be at the plant by seven thirty, so he was going to have to call in sick if his brother didn’t show up soon.

Eddie was not a morning person, so it took a few minutes for Wayne to get him up and seated at the table, and when he glanced at the clock on his wall, he knew he wasn’t going to make it to work on time.

“Mr. O’Grady? It’s Wayne Munson,” he started when his boss at the plant finally answered the phone. “I’m gonna be a little late for my shift. I’m watching my nephew. My brother was supposed to pick him up by now, but I’ve still got the kid, and I can’t leave him here alone.”

“It’s fine, Munson,” his boss answered. “In the ten years you’ve worked here, you’ve never taken a vacation, and the only times you’ve ever called off were when your nephew was born and when he broke his wrist last year. Take the day to spend with the kid. Sullivan has been asking for more hours anyway, and I can call him in to cover for you this time.”

“Thanks, Mr. O’Grady,” he said as he lunged to take the ketchup bottle away from Eddie before he could empty the entire thing onto his plate. “I really appreciate it.”

Wayne poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down across from Eddie who was more interested in eating ketchup than the eggs on his plate. He figured that inventory took a little bit longer than expected. The grocery store opened at nine, so they’d have to be done by then, and if his brother wasn’t at the trailer by nine thirty, he’d start calling their apartment.

Nine thirty came and went, and the phone call to Richie and Linda’s apartment went unanswered. The same happened every other time he called between then and noon. Wayne was starting to get worried, but he was trying his best not to let it show. His focus was on Eddie who didn’t seem to mind that he got to spend extra time there.

Finally, when Wayne was getting ready to set the table with the TV dinners that he’d ended up making for their lunch, someone answered the phone at the apartment.

“Hello?”

“Is everything okay over there?” Wayne asked, skipping the pleasantries. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning.”

“Everything’s fine. I was sleeping,” Richie replied. “What time is it?”

“For the love of god, Richie.” Wayne lowered his voice and glanced into the living room to make sure Eddie wasn’t paying attention to him before he continued. “I was starting to think something bad had happened. I called you at least a dozen times. Scared the shit outta me.”

“I’m sorry. I came home from work and passed out immediately. Didn’t hear the phone until just now.”

“But you were supposed to pick up Eddie before you went home.”

“I stopped on the way to change my clothes. Smelled like sweat and pickle juice after someone dropped a box and the shit splattered everywhere. I figured Linda changed her mind and was picking him up since she wasn’t home when I got here.”

“Well, she definitely didn’t come here.”

“She had a group presentation due today, and she was really hounding the other girls to make sure it was perfect. She probably just caught the bus and headed over to campus early. Do you want me to come over and get Eddie?”

“Don’t worry about it. You should get some more sleep. One of you can come and grab him after Linda gets home from class.”

“Are you sure? I know he can be a handful.”

“We’re fine. I’ll take him to the park or something, and he can do my grocery shopping with me. Besides, I just made him lunch, and I kinda like having him around.”

“You wanna keep him?” Richie asked with a laugh.

“Don’t tempt me,” Wayne responded with a laugh of his own. “But I don’t think Linda would be too happy about it.”

“You’re probably right. We’ll give you a call when we’re on our way to get him, okay? Most likely right around dinner time?”

“Sounds good to me.”

After lunch, Wayne finally got Eddie dressed and took him to the playground across town. Since they’d done nothing but sit around the trailer all morning, the kid had a lot of energy to burn, and he chose to burn it by giving his uncle a heart attack every time he went to leap off of something he probably shouldn’t have climbed in the first place. Eventually, he got tired of scaring years off of his uncle’s life, and Wayne agreed to push him on the swings as long as he promised not to jump off of those, too.

Once he’d successfully tired out the kid, Wayne loaded Eddie into his truck and headed to the grocery store. His usual get in, get what he needs, and get out trip took a lot longer than normal with his nephew riding in the cart, but debating about breakfast cereal and lunch meat with a kid who wasn’t even going to be eating them was wildly entertaining. In the end, he only ended up with three things that Eddie had wanted in his cart, and he was taking that as a win.

Standing in the checkout line, Wayne couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between the two housewives behind him. He wasn’t one to pay attention to town gossip, but he couldn’t ignore them.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about the accident last night,” the first woman said.

“News travels fast in a small town like Hawkins,” the second replied. “It’s a shame really. Those poor girls.”

“Oh, I know. I wonder if they’ve been able to find their families by now. Eleanor said that they weren’t sure who to call.”

“How did Eleanor get so much information about this anyway? It wasn’t in any of the papers today.”

“Her husband was on duty, and you know he went home and told her every detail. The man can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“Can you blame him? A drunk driver crashing into a car full of girls leaving the community college library is probably the most exciting thing he’s ever seen working around here. Not that a tragedy is exciting mind you. It’s just more interesting to talk about than the occasional traffic violation.”

Wayne almost dropped the milk that he was holding on the ground. Their conversation meant nothing to him. To him, or his brother, or the little boy who was currently fighting to stay awake in his shopping cart. The fact that no one had seen Linda since last night was merely a coincidence. She was probably at home with Richie right now telling him all about how her presentation went and getting ready to pick up her son. She had to be.

But, when Wayne pulled up to his trailer to find his brother sitting on his front step looking more scared and alone than he had when he came to tell him that Linda was pregnant, he knew that wasn’t the case.

Wayne held Eddie throughout the funeral. Richie was an absolute wreck and could barely hold himself together let alone take care of his son. But he had his older brother to help pick up the pieces, and that was a comfort in such an upsetting time.

Wayne hadn’t expected such a large turnout for the funeral. With the way she lit up every room she entered, the fact that she had had an effect on so many people in her short twenty one years shouldn’t have been a huge surprise. There were groups of girls from all of Linda’s classes, and the diner had closed for the day because all of the waitresses and cooks wanted to be there. There were high school friends who had just arrived home from college, and there were families from their apartment building. All there to pay their respects. The only notable absence was Linda’s own parents. Not that anyone had really expected them to show up anyway. They hadn’t tried to contact her at all in the time since they’d kicked her out, and Wayne would have forced them to leave if they’d tried to show their faces.

After the services, Wayne took Eddie straight back to the apartment. He and Richie had discussed it beforehand, and they figured that the whole situation would be too overwhelming for him. They’d explained to him what had happened in a way that was simple enough for a child to understand, but the boy was still so young and confused about why his mother wasn’t coming home. He didn’t need to be surrounded by a bunch of people he didn’t know talking about what a shame it was that his mother was gone.

So, while his brother stayed behind to receive condolences, Wayne reheated one of the many casseroles people had dropped off at the apartment for them, gave Eddie a bath, and put him to bed. But throughout it all, he couldn’t help but notice that his usually bright and talkative nephew was the most quiet and reserved he’d ever been since he learned how to talk.

When Richie finally came home, he didn’t say anything. Just grabbed the casserole dish that Wayne had left on the counter along with a fork and sat down on the sofa where Wayne was pretending he cared about whatever was on TV.

Without saying anything, Wayne got up and grabbed a drink for his brother. Nothing fancy. Just a glass of the iced tea from the fridge. But there was an unspoken meaning behind it that they both could feel. That Wayne was always going to take care of them and get them what they needed. No matter what, he would always be there.

“Thanks,” Richie said as he accepted the glass. “For everything.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wayne replied. “It’s what I’m here for.”

August 1970

Sunday dinners had remained the norm for the three Munson men, but Linda’s absence was always in the forefront of their minds. Not just because she was the best cook out of the three, but because she was the one who really got them to talk to each other. Wayne and Richie were never big talkers, and she had bridged their gap in communication.

And maybe that was why Wayne had accepted the Sunday overtime shifts that were offered to him. He hated missing the time with his family, but he hated the awkward silences more.

After not attending Sunday dinner for nearly a month, he figured that it was time to start going back. Eddie was starting school soon, and he felt guilty for the time he was missing with the kid. He felt even more guilty once he saw the state of their apartment.

He’d let himself in like he normally did, and the first thing he noticed was his brother passed out on the couch. There were empty beer cans strewn across the floor around him, and the room was in complete disarray. The kitchen wasn’t any better. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, and the trashcan was filled with enough beer cans to show that this probably wasn’t the first time this had happened.

He made his way back to Eddie’s room since the kid was nowhere to be found in the front of the apartment, and he found his nephew happily playing alone. It wasn’t exactly a comforting sight though. While the room was in relatively decent shape, the laundry hamper was overflowing to the point where there were small piles of clothes surrounding it, and there was a distinct odor hanging in the air. But the worst part was Eddie himself. The boy looked dirty. This definitely wasn’t the first day that he’d worn those clothes, and his hair was a tangled mess that obviously hadn’t been washed anytime recently.

“How’s it goin’, Eds?” Wayne asked, finally alerting his nephew to his presence.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie leaped up from his spot on the floor to give his uncle a hug.

As Wayne picked up the boy, he was hit with another wave of that stench, and his suspicions about said stench coming from Eddie were confirmed.

“So, when was the last time you had a bath?” he asked.

“We don’t have to do that anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said with a little shrug.

“And I’m guessing you’d have the same answer if I asked why the kitchen isn’t clean?”

“Yep.”

“And why the laundry isn’t done?”

“Yep.”

“Do you know anything?” Wayne teased.

“I know we’re eating TV dinners tonight!” Eddie said, excited that he could tell his uncle something.

“And how do you know that?”

“‘Cause we eat ‘em every night. Daddy puts ‘em on a plate so I won’t know, but he never throws out the box cause he’s too busy sleeping on the couch.”

“Does he do that a lot? Sleep on the couch like that, I mean?”

“Yeah. He’s no good at bedtime anymore.”

Wayne couldn’t tell if he was more heartbroken for his nephew or angry at his brother at that moment. All he knew was that he needed to do something.

“How do you feel about coming over for a sleepover?” Wayne asked. “We haven’t had one of those in awhile, and I miss hanging out with my favorite kid.”

Eddie’s response was an enthusiastic yes, so Wayne set him back down.

“I’m gonna go talk to your daddy, and then we’ll get your stuff ready to go, okay?”

“Okay!”

Part of Wayne wanted to be thankful that at least Eddie still seemed happy. He was okay on the inside even if it was clear that his dad had dropped the ball. But a much larger part of him was consumed by his anger. Angry at his brother for letting his home get this messy. Angry at his brother for clearly not taking care of his child. Angry at his brother for picking up their father’s bad habits.

But, most of all, Wayne was angry at himself for avoiding the awkward silences. If he’d kept going over for Sunday dinners, he would have caught the warning signs sooner. He could have kept things from getting this bad. He could have done something to help, and he was going to live with the guilt of not helping sooner for a very long time.

When Richie didn’t respond to his name or being shaken, Wayne grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and dumped it over his brother’s head.

“What the hell, Wayne?” Richie sputtered as he came to and glared up at his brother.

“Don’t what the hell me,” Wayne replied. He was trying to keep his volume down so Eddie wouldn’t hear them. “It’s barely five o’clock on a Sunday, and you were passed out drunk.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. I shouldn’t have to tell you that with the way we grew up. Do you really want to put your kid through that?”

“I’m not turning into dad.” Richie sat up and laid his head in his hands. “I will never be anything like that man. I’m just not doing the best right now, okay? After everything, I lost my job. Missed too many shifts. It all spiraled from there. I just need some time to get back on my feet so we don’t lose the apartment.”

“You can’t take time when you’ve got Eddie to think about,” Wayne said as he took a seat next to his brother. “I’m bringing him home with me. This isn’t good for him, and you know it.”

“You can’t take my kid away from me.”

“The boy stinks, and I’m guessing he barely has any clean clothes left from what I saw in his room. This place is a wreck, and you don’t seem to care because you’re too busy drinking. He told me all you do is sleep on the couch like you were when I got here.”

Wayne ran a hand over the back of his neck. He hated putting this out there, but he had to open his brother’s eyes, and he didn’t see any other way.

“He starts preschool next week, Richie. If he gets there looking and smelling the way he does now or tells anyone anything about the way you’re living, someone is going to come here and take him away from you. He needs a safe and stable living environment, and this isn’t one right now. So you can either let him come with me while you pull yourself together, and you can still come and see him everyday. Or you can keep living like this, and you could wind up losing him for good. The choice is yours, and one of those options seems a lot better than the other to me.”

“Shit.”

Richie kicked the coffee table in frustration and sent empty beer cans flying.

“So, I can come see him everyday?” he asked after a moment.

“Whenever you want. I promise.”

“Okay . . . I’m not really turning into dad, am I?”

“No. I just think you went through some shit that you’re way too young for, and it made you make some bad choices. You’ve at least acknowledged it, so you’re doing better than he ever did.”

Wayne didn’t wait for a response from his brother. He just grabbed a garbage bag from the cabinet under the sink and headed back to Eddie’s room where he started shoving all of the dirty clothes into the bag.

“You can’t throw away my clothes,” Eddie pouted. “I need those.”

“I’m not throwing them away. I’m gonna do your laundry. Your daddy is awake, so why don’t you go talk to him while I get your stuff ready to go?”

Once Eddie’s clothes were taken care of, Wayne moved around the room grabbing whatever he saw that he thought his nephew would maybe want at his house and loading it into the duffle bag he found under the bed. He took the dinosaurs and toy cars that Eddie had been playing with when he came in. He took the stack of books and photo albums that were sitting on the tiny nightstand by his bed. He even grabbed the toy guitar that he was sure he was going to regret bringing with him. And, of course, he grabbed Mister Lion.

After a quick trip into the bathroom to grab Eddie’s toothbrush and other toiletries, he headed back into the living room where Eddie was giving his dad a goodbye hug.

“You be extra good for your uncle, okay?” Richie said as he pulled away from his son. “And I’ll be over to see you every day.”

“You promise?” Eddie asked.

“Cross my heart.”

Once they were back at the trailer, the first thing Wayne did was give Eddie a bath.

“I thought I didn’t need to do this anymore,” Eddie pouted as his uncle worked the shampoo into his hair.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Eds,” Wayne replied. “You smell, and I can’t have you stinking up my trailer. So, it’s either you take a bath on a regular basis, or you’re sleeping on the porch.”

Eddie looked up at his uncle with wide eyes.

“You’d make me sleep on the porch?

“Never. Which is why we need to get you cleaned up.”

Getting Eddie bathed was the easy part. Tackling the tangled mess of his hair was an entirely different beast. Wayne tried to be as careful as possible as he worked through the knots, but Eddie was especially tender-headed, and his hair was a mess from the neglect, so there were plenty of complaints and tears.

“Mama never made it hurt,” Eddie said between his sniffles.

“I’m sorry, Eds,” Wayne replied. “I’m being as gentle as I can.”

“I miss her.”

“I know. Me, too.”

Wayne made grilled cheese and tomato soup for their dinner. It wasn’t anything special, but it was better than a TV dinner, and he made himself a promise that he’d never feed his nephew one of those for dinner ever again if he could help it. And, after the table was cleared and the dishes were done, he put the kettle on the stove to start heating up some water to make tea for himself and hot chocolate for Eddie.

When Wayne’s mug collection started to outgrow the small cabinet shelf, he’d moved most of them into the living room to put on display, but his favorites were kept in the kitchen for easy use. He pulled out the mug from Eddie’s first Christmas for himself, and then he grabbed Linda’s favorite mug - the light blue one with the pink rosettes - for Eddie. He carefully carried the mugs over to the coffee table before going through the bag of Eddie’s things to find the book he was looking for.

“Hey, Eddie, can you come over here?” he called over to his nephew as he sat down on the couch.

Eddie abandoned his crayons and the picture he was drawing to climb onto the couch with his uncle.

“You were too little to remember it, but did your mama and daddy ever tell you that you all lived here with me when you were a baby?”

“We did?”

“You did. The three of you shared my bedroom, and I slept out here. Whenever you were up at night, your mama would come sit in the kitchen, and we’d have tea together while she fed you. And then, when you still wouldn’t go back to sleep, she’d hand you over to me. We’d sit over here, and she’d read her favorite book to you until you fell asleep in my arms.”

Wayne grabbed the mugs off of the table and passed Eddie’s to him before picking up the copy of The Hobbit that he’d set aside.

“I know you miss your mama, and I know this isn’t the same as having her here, but this is a little piece of her that I can share with you.”

Eddie curled up against his uncle, and they sipped their drinks as Wayne started to read Linda’s most favorite adventure out loud to her son. It wasn’t much, but it was all Wayne could do to make Eddie’s first night in his trailer a little bit easier.

December 1970

Richie had made good on his promise to come and visit every day for the first two months that Eddie was staying with Wayne. But right around Halloween, he started missing days. And then multiple days in a row. It broke Wayne’s heart every time he saw Eddie realize that his dad had forgotten about him again, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Richie had either stopped answering his phone at the apartment, or he was never home no matter what time of day Wayne called. Nor did he answer the door any of the times Wayne dropped by to check on him.

On Christmas Eve, Wayne realized that his brother hadn’t been over to see them since Thanksgiving, and he wasn’t sure if they’d be seeing him at all the next day. Wayne wasn’t going to let his brother’s screw ups ruin the holiday for Eddie though. It was going to be hard enough on him to spend his first Christmas without his mom. He didn’t want the whole day to be miserable.

Wayne had hidden all of Eddie’s gifts from Santa in the cabinet over the fridge - the only cabinet that Eddie hadn’t found a way to climb to yet - and he had gotten a small tree to prop up in the corner. It wasn’t very impressive, but Eddie was all smiles when he got to put the star on top, and that was good enough for him. He’d even picked up everything he needed to make cinnamon french toast for breakfast and a roast for Christmas dinner. It was shaping up to be a fairly decent holiday.

But, when he asked Eddie if he was excited for Santa to visit them that night, he was met with frustrated tears instead of the happiness he’d expected. Wayne stopped what he was doing and went over to where Eddie was sitting on the couch. The boy had tears streaming down his cheeks, and his tiny hands were balled into tight fists.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Wayne asked as he knelt down to get on Eddie’s level.

“I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“I forgot your present, and now it’s too late.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to get me anything. I promise.”

“No, I gotta,” Eddie said as he wiped at his tears. “Mama said it wasn’t special if you didn’t get a mug, and I wanted it to be special.”

Wayne moved to sit on the couch and scooped Eddie up in his arms, allowing the boy to cry into his shoulder and get his feelings out.

“I was going to ask daddy to take me, but he’s never here.”

Wayne could pinpoint a lot of things about his brother that had angered him lately, but he didn’t know if he could ever forgive him for hurting Eddie like this. Still, he didn’t want his nephew to end up hating his dad. When Richie pulled it together, they’d be a family again, and he didn’t want moments like this to sour that.

“It’s my fault, Eds,” Wayne lied as he rubbed Eddie’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “Your daddy gave me some money so you could buy me a Christmas gift and told me that I should take you, and I got so busy with work that I just forgot about it. But if we leave right now, I bet we can make it to the Goodwill in time for you to pick out something real special.”

The opportunity to go present shopping cheered Eddie up immediately, and before Wayne knew it, the boy was pulling at his arm to get him to help grab his coat and shoes.

The Goodwill was still open when they got there, and nobody was inside except for the very bored looking teenager running the cash register.

“Now, you go pick something out, and I’ll wait here until after you’ve paid so whatever you pick can be a surprise,” Wayne said as he handed Eddie a few dollars.

Eddie took the money and wandered off towards where the homegoods were kept, and Wayne busied himself by looking at a rack of kids clothes near the front of the store. He wasn’t necessarily planning on buying anything, but if he could maybe find something decent that would fit Eddie, he might as well look. He only turned his attention back to the checkout counter when he heard his nephew’s voice.

“Excuse me,” Eddie said as he reached up to set his purchase on the counter. The counter was taller than he was, so he had to stretch just a little bit. “I want to buy this as a Christmas gift for my uncle, please. I have my own money and everything.”

“Well, aren’t you the cutest,” the girl working the cash register said as she picked up his mug. “Are you sure this is the one you want to get him though?”

“Yes, it’s the best one.”

“Okay, that’ll be one dollar. And for an extra quarter, I can even put it in one of these fancy gift bags for you if you’d like.”

“Yes, please.” Eddie set his money on the counter and waited as the girl got his change and wrapped his purchase.

“Here you go, sweetie,” the girl said as she handed Eddie his things.

“Thank you! Merry Christmas!”

Eddie raced back over to his uncle, and it was apparent that the tears from earlier were long forgotten.

When Wayne unwrapped his new “Virginia is for Lovers” mug in front of the tree on Christmas morning, he couldn’t contain his laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked.

“It’s nothing Eds. I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Did I pick a good one then?”

“You picked the best one. I love it.”

And he did. Not just because it was Eddie that gave it to him, but because he knew it was the exact mug Linda would have chosen if she was there.

June 1973

Wayne and Eddie had settled into a routine together. During the school year, Wayne put Eddie on the bus before heading to work, and then he picked him up from after school care on the way home. Wayne made them dinner while Eddie did whatever homework he had to do, and then it was bathtime and books before bed. There wasn’t really enough room for two beds in Wayne’s bedroom, but he’d rearranged the furniture enough that they could just barely fit the fold out bed in his room when Eddie had expressed that he didn’t like sleeping out in the living room alone.

The only difference during the summer was that Eddie went to daycare instead of school. It was a little too expensive, but Wayne was doing his best to make it work.

Richie’s visits were few and far between at this point. They were lucky if he came to visit Eddie once a month, but it was usually a longer absence than that. They didn’t even have a way to contact him when he was gone anymore because he’d lost the apartment, and the only reason they knew he lost the apartment was because he’d told Wayne that if there was anything of Eddie’s still there, he should probably get it before the landlord changed the locks. When Wayne had showed up to grab the rest of Eddie’s toys and books, he’d grabbed the rest of the photo albums and a few of Linda’s things that were still around that he thought Eddie might like to have one day. Richie was supposed to give them his new address and phone number once he’d settled into a new place, but that had been nearly a year ago, and Wayne wasn’t holding his breath. His brother had broken so many promises since Eddie had moved in with Wayne, that he had a hard time believing anything his brother said.

So, when Richie showed up that morning and said that he wanted to take Eddie for the whole day, Wayne couldn’t have been more surprised. Even when Richie did remember to show up, he never spent the whole day with his own kid. But his brother said he had a new job, and he wanted to celebrate with his son. Wayne was reluctant to let it happen, but he knew the kid missed his dad, and if Richie wanted to step up, it would at least give him a chance to get some work done around the trailer without any distractions.

But when they came back around dinner time, Wayne regretted letting them go alone. Physically, Eddie was fine, but they returned in a different car than the one they’d left in. A much nicer car that Wayne knew his brother wouldn’t have been able to afford. He’d heard some rumors about cars getting stolen around Hawkins and getting brought to a chop shop somewhere outside of the town, but he hadn’t given it much thought since no one wanted to steal a car from someone who lived in a trailer park.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie said as he climbed out the car and ran to his uncle. “We had the best day!”

“You did?”

“Yeah! First, we went to the arcade, and then we got hot dogs, and after that, dad showed me how I can get any car I want for free!”

“Oh really?” Wayne glanced over at his brother who was leaning against the hood of what Eddie had all but confirmed was definitely a stolen car. “That sounds like a really great day, Eds. Why don’t you go inside and get washed up for dinner while your dad and I have a little chat, okay?”

Wayne waited until Eddie was out of earshot before he walked over to his brother.

“Seriously, Richie? Is that what your new job is? Stealing cars?”

“Lighten up. Do you know how much money I get for each car I bring in? I might actually be able to afford a decent apartment again, and I can quit sleeping on people’s couches. Eddie could even come stay with me.”

“Oh yeah. Sure. Being enmeshed in illegal activities is exactly what every seven year old needs. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Don’t tell me how to raise my son, Wayne. I think I know what I’m doing here.”

“Well, that’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Since when are you the one raising him, Richie? The last time I checked, we haven’t seen you since March.”

“He’s still my son.”

“Then act like it. Because I’m the one who gets him to and from school and makes sure he gets his homework done. I’m the one who makes sure that he’s fed and clothed and has a roof over his head. I’m the one that he cries out for whenever he has a bad dream or he’s sick. And I’m the one who comforts him and distracts him every time you say you’ll be here and then don’t show up because you’re too drunk or you overslept or just forgot and didn’t care. And I am sick of you coming back around for a day and lying to him about how you’re going to be around more often and promising to spend more time with him because every time you break that promise, his heart breaks all over again. He deserves better than that, and you know it.”

“Shut up.”

“You can’t just tell me to shut up when you don’t want to hear the truth, and frankly, I’ve stayed quiet long enough. This is something you should have heard a long time ago.”

“I said shut up.”

“If she could see the way that you’re treating her boy, Linda would be so ashamed of you right now.”

“Fuck you!”

Richie launched up from where he was leaning on the car to post up to his brother. For a minute, Wayne was convinced that Richie was going to take a swing at him from the anger burning in his eyes, but nothing happened.

“You want me to be a better dad? Fine. I’ll be a better dad,” he spat as he stormed toward the trailer door. “We don’t need any help from you anymore.”

Before Wayne knew it, his brother was marching out of the trailer pulling a very confused looking Eddie behind him.

“Say goodbye to your uncle, Eddie,” Richie said as he opened his car door. “You’re not going to be seeing him for a while.”

“Richie, be reasonable.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Wayne. Either I’m the dad that you want me to be, or I leave him here with you. So I’m taking my son, and we’re leaving because I will not stand here and listen to you insult me. And if I ever hear Linda’s name leave your mouth again, that’ll be the last time you ever speak.”

Richie climbed into the car and slammed his door shut. Once Eddie was inside with him, he sped away and out of the trailer park leaving Wayne to spend the night alone for the first time in years.

February 1976

It was after midnight when Wayne got the call. He'd been asleep for a few hours at that point, and he'd been woken up by the phone. At first, he'd tried to ignore the call, but the person on the other end of the line was persistent, so the phone just kept ringing. He stumbled out of his bedroom and into the kitchen to grab the phone.

“Hello?” Wayne answered the phone, his voice hoarse from barely being awake.

“Have we reached Wayne Munson?”

“Speaking.”

“Mr. Munson, this is Chief Carver with the Hawkins police department. We currently have your brother in custody down at the station. His bail hasn’t been set just yet, and he declined his one phone call, but I’m calling to inform you that we also have your nephew here. He was asleep in the back of the car when my officers picked up your brother, and we’ve been told that you’re the only other family the boy has. We were hoping to place the child in your care as we’d rather contact family than anyone else in situations like these.”

“I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

Wayne didn’t need to hear anything else before he was putting on real pants and racing down to the station. He’d barely seen his brother and nephew since their fight as Richie had cut him out of their lives. He only saw them in passing, but Richie would quickly leave whatever public space they were in when he noticed Wayne was there, too. And even if he had a phone number, he doubted Richie would take his calls. He didn’t want to say that he was afraid of what he’d find when he got there, but he wasn’t expecting anything good.

“I got a call from the chief about my brother,” Wayne said as he walked up to the officer sitting behind the front desk. “I’m supposed to be picking up my nephew.”

“Wayne Munson, right?” the officer asked. “I’ll take you back to see your nephew shortly. Just gotta go over some official business first. You know how it is. Now, your brother will be staying here overnight because we won’t be able to get him arraigned until morning.”

“What is he facing in the way of charges?”

“Well, for starters, he was already wanted for multiple counts of grand theft auto and the possession and selling of stolen merchandise. Tonight, he was picked up on a DUI with multiple traffic violations, expired plates, and child endangerment to sweeten the deal. There was also a startling amount of liquor in the car with him. When he was pulled over, he attempted to assault an officer, and he resisted arrest. We don’t expect you to stay here until he’s arraigned, so we can call you and let you know what his bail is set at after the hearing occurs.”

“Don’t bother,” Wayne replied. “I won’t be posting his bail. All I care about is my nephew. Is he okay?”

“As far as we can tell, the boy is fine. A little shaken up, but okay. He was asleep in the backseat when the car was pulled over, and he only woke up when your brother started to get belligerent. We have reason to believe they were living out of the car from the sheer amount of stuff loaded into the trunk and backseat. Because the car was one of the ones he’s accused of stealing, everything inside it was admitted into evidence. However, we’re hoping someone will be able to sort through it after the weekend, so we can set aside anything that belongs to the boy and get it to you then.”

“Can I see him now? I just want to take him home.”

Finally, the officer led him back to the station’s break room where he found Eddie sitting on the sofa with his knees hugged to his chest.

“Alright, Eddie,” the officer said. “Your uncle is here to take you home.”

Eddie got up from the sofa and headed over towards where they were standing without saying a word. It was the quietest that Wayne had ever seen the boy other than when he was sleeping, and he hated it more than he could say.

Eddie stayed quiet the entire way back to the trailer despite Wayne asking him how he was doing, telling him he missed him, and just trying to get even the smallest bit of a conversation going. He tried not to read too much into it. It had most likely been an overwhelming night for him so far, and he was probably worn out.

It was only once they were back at the trailer that Wayne realized he didn’t have any pajamas or extra clothes for Eddie. He still had most of the clothes that had been left behind when his brother had taken the boy back, but he’d grown in the three years since he’d worn any of that stuff, so Wayne doubted he’d be comfortable in any of them. He grabbed one of his own t-shirts out of the basket of clean laundry he’d neglected to put away and offered it to Eddie.

“I know it’s not pajamas, but you might be more comfortable sleeping in this.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie replied, not bothering to take the shirt. “I sleep like this most of the time.”

The boy moved to sit on the edge of the couch, and Wayne set the shirt down on the coffee table just in case Eddie ended up changing his mind.

“How long do I get to stay here?” Eddie asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Am I gonna have to go stay somewhere else?”

“No, Eds. You’re here with me for good.” Even if Richie didn’t end up in jail for any of the charges he was facing, Wayne was never letting Eddie out of his sight again. Even if that meant spending what little money he had on a custody battle for his nephew’s wellbeing.

Wayne noted the confused look on Eddie’s face at his response, but he didn’t press the issue further. It had already been a long night for the both of them, and he was surprised that Eddie wasn’t already passed out.

“I’ve still got all of your stuff here from before, so I figure we can go through it tomorrow. See if any of your clothes might still fit or if there are any toys you might still want, and then we can go to the Goodwill and maybe get you some new things to replace what doesn’t work anymore.”

“You kept my stuff?”

“Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said as he looked down at his shoes. “Figured you wouldn’t want my stuff here either.”

It was the either that struck him. How Eddie was so quiet when he said it as if he didn’t want to voice his fears out loud. Wayne moved to sit next to Eddie on the couch.

“What do you mean?” he asked gently.

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Eds. You’re upset, and I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Eddie refused to look at his uncle, continuing to stare at the ground instead.

“Dad said you didn’t want me here anymore. That there wasn’t space for me, so I had to go back with him.”

Wayne thought that being punched in the chest would have been less painful than hearing that. As much as he wanted to sit there and call his brother a liar along with a slew of much harsher names, he couldn’t let himself do that. Eddie had already been through so much that night, and he wasn’t going to be responsible for worsening the boy’s opinion of his own dad. Instead, he placed a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth. There was not a day that went by that I didn’t wish you were here with me. Your dad and I had just had a fight, and it made more sense for you to be with him than it did for you to stay here. That’s all it was.”

Wayne got up from the sofa and moved over to where the old foldout bed was pushed into the corner. Behind it was a small, wooden chest. He picked up the chest and set it back down in front of Eddie. He encouraged Eddie to open it, and when the boy did, the first thing he saw was his old stuffed lion. He pulled the plushie out and hugged it to his chest before looking back to find many more of his childhood play things. Toy cars, dinosaurs, and little army men mixed in with crayon stumps, notebooks filled with his drawings, and his mother’s well-loved copies of Tolkien’s epic fantasy. The boy looked up at his uncle with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry if my mistakes ever made you feel unwanted,” Wayne started, “because the truth is that I would still want you here and have the space for you even if this trailer was the size of my bathroom and nothing bigger.”

“You swear?” Eddie asked. He held out his pinky, and his uncle immediately gripped it with his own.

“I swear.”

Wayne moved to set up the fold out bed.

“You don’t have to go through any of that tonight. It’s late enough as it is. Let me get your bed set up, and we can deal with all of that tomorrow.”

“I’m fine on the couch.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not gonna let you sleep on the couch when I’ve got a perfectly good bed for you.”

“It’s really okay. When we weren’t sleeping in the car, I slept on a lot of couches at other people’s places. The floor sometimes, too. But I always liked the couches best."

The boy seemed eager to please as if he'd been told not to be difficult about where he slept in the past. To accept what he was offered without complaint. Wayne didn't want to fight him on this, but he also didn't want Eddie to think that this was any trouble for him. He'd give him the choice and let the boy do whatever he was most comfortable with.

"Well, I'm just gonna go ahead and set up the bed anyway. You don't have to sleep on it if you don't want to, but I want you to have it as an option."

Wayne barely slept that night. Eddie had looked at the fold out bed as if it was a trap before curling up into a ball on the sofa. It was then that it occurred to him that his nephew hadn't had his own room or any space to really call his own since the first time he'd come to live at the trailer. He'd always shared his uncle's room or the living room or whatever space his dad was able to provide.

Wayne had never needed much space. He didn't have a lot of stuff, and he figured he could fit most of his things in the tiny closet outside the bathroom if he did a little rearranging. Most of his drawers had been taken up by Eddie’s clothes when he lived there the first time anyway. He could take the fold out bed in the living room and give up his bedroom for his nephew. And if Eddie had his own space, maybe that would silence whatever was telling him that he was unwanted and allow him to relax.

So, instead of sleeping, he went through his closet. The boxes filled with Eddie’s old clothes were emptied onto the bed so he could load them up with his things. Moving it all into the hall closet and drawers could wait until morning since he didn’t want to accidentally wake his nephew, but he could get the room mostly ready for the boy to move into it.

By the time it was a reasonable enough hour for him to go and make his morning coffee, he had all of his stuff piled in boxes in the corner and another box of things he was planning on donating to Goodwill. He figured he could wash the sheets and put a fresh set on the bed later, but everything else was ready.

Eddie was still curled up asleep on the couch when Wayne exited the bedroom, so he tried to be as quiet as possible as he started the coffee. He woke up before the coffee was done though, and soon enough, he was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stood next to his uncle in the kitchen.

“You sleep okay, kiddo?” Wayne asked as he pulled out a couple cereal bowls.

Eddie nodded before moving to take his normal spot at the small table. Wayne didn’t want to pry too much, but he was clueless about what Eddie’s life had been like over the last few years, so he tried to get the boy to talk to him without it seeming like he was interrogating him.

Over bowls of Cheerios, Eddie shared that most of the time, his dad had him hang out at the comic book shop after school and on the weekends. He wasn’t supposed to get in the way while Richie was working, so every week, his dad gave him two dollars, and he could spend that on whatever comics he wanted even if the only ones he really cared about were the X-Men ones. The guy who ran the shop was really nice and let Eddie sit there for as long as he needed to even on the days that he wasn’t buying anything. He never missed school, and his dad always made sure he was fed, so at least he hadn’t been lacking in those departments. Richie was neglectful in a lot of ways, but he had managed to do the bare minimum. He could be thankful for that at least.

After breakfast, Wayne had Eddie help him sort through the boy’s old clothes. None of the pants were going to fit him anymore, but he had a handful of shirts that had been a little big before that he could still fit into. Wayne just hoped that they’d be able to find a few pairs of jeans in decent shape while they were at Goodwill because he definitely didn’t have the money to drop on new pants.

Eddie wanted to keep his dinosaurs and the one little car that had been his favorite, and of course he was keeping Mister Lion, but the rest of his old toys joined the Goodwill boxes. He just wasn’t interested in those things anymore. Wayne made a mental note to pick up a new box of crayons the next time he was at the grocery store since Eddie was very adamant about keeping all of his old drawings, and his old crayons were barely usable anymore.

Their trip to Goodwill was a successful one. Wayne had to use up a good portion of his cigarette budget for the month on a new wardrobe for Eddie, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. He’d been meaning to cut back anyway.

“Why don’t you go and put your clothes away in your room?” Wayne told Eddie when they returned to the trailer.

“My room?”

“The bedroom is yours, Eds. I just have to move a few things into the other closet and change the sheets, and then it’ll be ready.”

“You don’t have to give up your room for me.”

“I know. But I want to. Figured you should have a space of your own if you’re gonna be staying here permanently.”

Eddie dropped the bags he was holding and went to give his uncle a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“No need to thank me. You deserve this.” As Wayne was moving the rest of his stuff out of the room, Eddie was drawn to one item in particular.

“You play guitar?” he asked, eyeing the old acoustic in his uncle’s hands.

“I used to. I don’t think I’ve actually played it since before you were born. I was about your age when I learned though.”

“Could you teach me?”

“Sure can. I was just gonna stick it in the closet, but you can keep it in your room if you want and you promise to be real careful with it.”

Eddie nodded enthusiastically before taking the guitar from his uncle and carrying it back into his bedroom.

The rest of Eddie’s first day back at the trailer passed by without any incident. Eddie was slowly warming up to being there again even if he still seemed cautious about what he was and wasn’t allowed to do. It wasn’t until bedtime that Wayne was certain things would be okay between them.

By then, he was exhausted from having stayed up all night and all the work he did to get the bedroom ready for him. He’d just tucked Eddie in and was getting ready to set up his own bed in the living room when he heard the bedroom door open.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he asked. “Thought you were going to sleep?”

“I was,” Eddie said as he looked down at the ground. “But I was just thinking maybe you could set up your bed in my room like we used to? Just for tonight?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Wayne squeezed the fold out bed into the cramped bedroom. Without saying a word, Eddie handed his uncle the copy of The Hobbit that was sitting on the nightstand, and even though he was ready to crash, Wayne settled in and read until his nephew was softly snoring beside him just as he had so many times before.

December 1976

Wayne was not spoiling Eddie for Christmas this year. If anyone asked, he insisted he wasn’t. He was staying well within his budget for the holidays, but he was buying pretty much everything secondhand, so his money went a little further. He’d picked up a few board games and an assortment of mismatched legos from the Goodwill, and he’d managed to get a good deal on a new set of strings for the guitar. He’d even picked up the 64 pack of Crayola crayons that had a sharpener built into the box and some plain, unlined paper for him to draw on. Eddie's Christmases with his dad hadn't exactly been great ones, and he wanted to do what he could to make up for that. There was just one last thing he wanted to get.

It had all started when Eddie had spent an entire day drawing at the kitchen table. Wayne hadn't been paying much attention to him because anything that kept Eddie occupied and quiet for more than five minutes meant he could get some cleaning done around the trailer without his nephew getting underfoot or making more work for him. He loved the kid as if he were his own, but he could be a handful at times. When he went to put another load of dirty clothes in the washer and figure out what he was making for dinner, he got a good look at what Eddie had been drawing.

Wayne gathered up the papers and shuffled through them, and he was amazed by Eddie's work. They were good drawings. Not just good for a kid drawings where you could tell what they were supposed to be but they still looked clumsy. These were actually good, and they were all dragons. Different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some breathing fire, some flying, and some sleeping, but all recognizable as dragons.

"Did you draw all of these?" he asked.

Eddie nodded without looking up from his current drawing.

"And you didn't trace 'em or copy them from something or anything?"

"Nope. I just drew what I pictured."

“These are really great, Eds. Best drawings I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Don’t know where you got all this talent from. No one in our family can draw more than a stick figure.”

Eddie was absolutely beaming from all of the praise.

“Which one is your favorite?” the boy asked.

Wayne flipped through the stack of drawings in his hand before pulling out one of a purple dragon asleep on a pile of gold coins and jewels.

“If I had to pick, it’s this one,” he said as he held up the picture. “Would you mind if I hung it on the fridge?”

“You wanna hang up my picture?”

“Of course, I do. Gotta display it like the masterpiece it is.”

After the first drawing was in its place on the fridge, Eddie wanted to hang the rest of his dragons up in his room, so Wayne carefully taped up each and every one of them exactly where Eddie told him to. The entire time, Eddie was sitting cross-legged on his bed monologuing about how cool dragons were and why they were his most favorite fantasy creature. It was then that Wayne knew he had to find a way to get his boy something dragon-related for Christmas.

The problem he was facing was that there seemed to be absolutely nothing dragon-related in all of Hawkins, and he was running out of time. He didn’t know what he was going to do until he spotted something on one of the shelves in the comic book shop.

Wayne couldn’t give Eddie as much money as his dad had been giving him to spend on comics, but every Saturday, they took a trip there after lunch and before they did their grocery shopping for the next week. Eddie was allowed to choose one comic to take home, and Wayne would let him take as long as he needed to make that decision. Usually, he’d just stand and wait with Eddie, but a box with a large red dragon on the front had piqued his interest, so he went to examine it. It didn’t take long for him to realize that it was the perfect gift for his nephew.

When Eddie ran up to him with the comic he’d chosen, Wayne told him to go wait in the truck while he paid. As soon as his nephew was out of his sight, he grabbed the box and bought it along with the comic. It was a little more than he wanted to spend, but he knew it would be worth it to see Eddie’s face when he opened it on Christmas morning.

Wayne had barely opened his eyes before Eddie was shoving a gift into his hands on Christmas morning. He’d insisted that he didn’t need anything like he had for every single Christmas of his adult life, and he had been ignored as usual. When he opened the gift bag, he was presented with four different coffee mugs.

“There’s one for this year, and one for every Christmas I missed,” Eddie said, looking very proud of himself.

“How’d you get the money to pay for these?”

“A group of kids on the playground bet me their milk money that I wouldn’t eat a worm.”

“You ate a worm?”

Eddie shrugged. “It didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time.”

Wayne snorted and moved to ruffle a hand through the boy’s curls. “We’ve gotta work on your impulse control, kid.”

“Do you like them?” Eddie asked.

“I love ‘em. In fact, I’m gonna have my morning coffee in one of them, and I’ll make you a special Christmas hot cocoa in one, too.”

After the drinks had been passed out, Wayne pushed his bed to the side so he and Eddie could sit on the floor together with the tiny fake tree that Wayne had found at a garage sale. It wasn’t much, and it looked even tinier when the small pile of gifts for Eddie was almost the same height, but Eddie had just been excited to have a tree which was good enough for Wayne.

As Eddie opened his gifts, Wayne made sure that the one he was the most excited to give him was the last one he opened.

“Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie read off the front of the box.

“It’s a fantasy roleplaying game,” Wayne told him. “I don’t know much about it, but the guy down at the comic book shop said it’s pretty fun, and I know how much you like dragons and fantasy stuff, so I thought this could be fun. I figured you could read the manual and maybe teach me how to play? If that’s okay with you, of course.”

It was more than okay with Eddie. Wayne watched as Eddie did nothing but read the manuals and plan out a small campaign for them to play for pretty much his entire winter break. On New Year’s Eve, he sat his uncle down at their kitchen table and walked him through creating a character before diving into their fantasy adventure. Wayne tried his best to understand what was going on, and Eddie often had to remind him which die to roll and when, but the boy’s excitement and enthusiasm for the game was apparent the entire time. He never got frustrated with him for forgetting what he was supposed to be doing, and he put every bit of his dramatic, over the top personality into painting a picture of this fantasy world.

There were plenty of days where Wayne was convinced that he was doing everything wrong when it came to raising Eddie, but as he watched his nephew fall in love with his new game, he knew that he’d done at least one thing right.

May 1980

When Eddie started middle school, Wayne had decided he was old enough to take the bus home from school and be alone at the trailer until he got home from work. For the most part, this hadn’t been a bad idea, and Eddie had only almost flooded the trailer once. But, towards the end of eighth grade, there was one big hiccup.

“I messed up,” Eddie called from the bathroom the second Wayne had walked in the door.

"Messed up how?"

"Can you just come here?"

Wayne made his way back to the bathroom where he found Eddie leaning over the sink. Sitting on the edge of the sink was a pair of scissors, and there was a very obvious chunk of hair missing from the left side of his head. Considering the fact that Eddie had just told him a week before that he was planning on growing out his hair in an attempt to emulate his favorite musicians, Wayne was more than a little bit confused.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" he asked.

"I was just minding my own business and talking to my friend Jeff about how awesome Corroded Coffin was gonna be at the talent show next week when the kid in the seat behind me smashed his gum in my hair."

"Is this the same kid who called you a freak and ripped up your notebook last month?"

"Yeah . . . I've been ignoring him like you said, but he just won't leave me alone."

Wayne had never considered beating a child before, but there was a first time for everything.

"And I'm guessing the scissors are out because you were trying to get the gum out by yourself?"

"I tried everything. But I couldn't get it out with my hands, and trying to pick it out with my comb only made it worse. And I didn't know what to do, so I figured I could just cut it out, and no one would notice. But I ended up cutting off too much, and now I look like this."

"Why didn't you wait for me to get home? I could've helped you."

"I was embarrassed," Eddie said. The boy looked like he was about ready to cry. "I don't like talking about this stuff, so I thought maybe I could do it alone, and then I wouldn't have to tell you."

Wayne sighed before squeezing past Eddie to pull his clippers out of the bathroom cabinet.

"I can fix this," he said. "It's not going to be what you want, and it's going to take awhile for your hair to grow back, but I can at least even it out and make it look like you wanted your hair to be shorter, okay?"

Eddie nodded.

"Good. Now take a seat and let me take care of you."

Eddie sat down on the edge of the toilet, and Wayne got to work. To make it easier for the clippers to do their job, Wayne started out by using the scissors to cut off Eddie's curls in chunks that he tossed aside in the sink. Once his hair was a more manageable length, Wayne turned on the clippers and started evening out the cut. It definitely wasn't what Eddie wanted, but soon enough, the boy was sporting a fresh buzz cut.

“I’m going to clean up in here, and then you can take a shower if you want. After that, meet me in the kitchen. I think you and I might need to have a talk.”

After sweeping up Eddie’s hair, Wayne headed into the kitchen and put on the water for hot chocolate. That was their routine. Whenever they had to talk about something even remotely upsetting, they did it over cups of hot cocoa in the hopes that the sweetness of the drink would soften the blow.

Eddie came out of the bathroom and took his usual seat at the kitchen table just as Wayne was finished making their drinks. He set Eddie’s mug down in front of him before taking his own seat. It was obvious to him that the boy had been crying while he was in the bathroom from his red-rimmed eyes, but he didn’t comment on it. He didn’t want to make Eddie feel worse than he clearly already did.

Wayne couldn’t get a word out before Eddie started talking.

“I don’t think I wanna do the talent show anymore,” he said as he stared into his mug.

“Why not? It’s all you’ve talked about for weeks.”

“They haven’t even heard me play yet, and I’m already getting picked on for it. What if I suck, and it gets worse?”

“So what?”

“What do you mean so what?” Eddie asked. “You just had to shave my head. I don’t want anything like this to happen ever again.”

Wayne sighed and took a sip from his mug.

“I know we don’t talk about your mama very often, but after you, music was her favorite thing in this world. When you all lived with me, there wasn’t a moment of the day that she wasn’t singing along with whatever was playing on the radio, and she might have been just about the worst singer I’ve heard in my entire life. Couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket if her life depended on it, and we all teased her about it constantly. But that didn’t stop her from singing her heart out whenever she heard her favorite songs.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“People around here are small-minded, and they’re raising their children to be a bunch of small-minded idiots. No matter what you do, there’s always going to be someone who’s gonna try to make you feel small. That’s just the way life is. And if you stop yourself from doing the things you love just because someone else is making fun of you for it, you’re only letting the bullies win. You’ve gotta be a bigger and louder version of yourself and not let them affect you.

“You are so much like your mama in a lot of ways. Practically a little clone of her at times. Especially when you smile. But the biggest difference that I can see is that you have talent. I may not understand the kind of music you like, but I can tell when something sounds good. I hear you practicing, and you’ve got a gift. I won’t lie to you and pretend that everyone is going to love your performance or that the bullies will magically disappear, but what I can tell you is that it would be a damn shame if you didn’t share your gift with the world just because some little shit stain on your bus clearly wasn’t raised right.”

Wayne got up from the table to put his mug in the sink, but he’d barely taken a step before Eddie had jumped up and wrapped his arms around his uncle in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Wayne replied as he hugged him back. “I probably don’t say this enough, but I hope you know that I love you, and I’m always going to be in your corner.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

“Good. And if you have any more trouble on that bus of yours, you let me know, and I’ll kick that little punk’s butt. No one is gonna get away with treating my boy like crap.”

Eddie snorted as he pulled away from his uncle.

“I’m sure he’ll be terrified. You’re basically the least intimidating person I know.”

“Okay, smart ass. I’m plenty intimidating.”

“You’re about as scary as a teddy bear.”

It was Wayne’s turn to laugh.

A few weeks later, when Father’s Day rolled around, Wayne woke up to a gift and a homemade card waiting for him next to the coffee maker. He opened the card first, and printed in Eddie’s messy scrawl, it read:

I feel like this is probably long overdue, and I should have been honoring you today for at least a few years now. You’ve been more of a dad to me than I ever remember mine being, and I feel like I don’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me enough. So thanks for always being there. Happy Father’s Day from your boy.

Feeling a little choked up, Wayne pulled the gift towards himself next. It was wrapped up in the comics from the day before’s newspaper with way too much tape. He knew what it would be before he'd even unwrapped it, but he was always happy to see whatever mug Eddie had picked out for him. This one was dark green and patterned with sunflowers, and he knew that it was going to become one of his new favorites immediately if only because of the circumstances in which he received it.

March 1986

Wayne Munson was tired. Tired of people judging Eddie without really knowing him, tired of people not listening to him, and tired of people defacing his missing posters instead of actually helping him look. He was tired of having to keep his guard up when anyone tried to talk to him because he didn’t want to lose his temper and attack someone for spouting vile nonsense at him, and he was tired of spending every waking moment - and most of his sleeping ones - worrying about Eddie. Tired of sleeping in the high school surrounded by people who had actively been hunting down his boy to do who knows what to him. He was just tired.

So, when Dustin Henderson came up to him and gave him the news that Eddie was gone, he could feel himself crumbling from the inside out. At first, he didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be true. His boy was out there somewhere and hiding until someone could find concrete evidence that cleared his name. He had to be. But the guitar pick necklace that Dustin held out to him and the apparent pain plastered across the kid’s face had sealed it. His boy was dead, and he was never going to see him again.

Wayne had never been one to outwardly express his emotions. He tended to keep things tucked away until he could have a moment in private, and he certainly never cried in public. But hearing the way that Dustin spoke so fondly about Eddie broke him. Because Dustin was saying everything that he already knew to be true. If Hawkins had really taken the time to get to know his boy, they all would have been able to look past his outer appearance, and they would have loved him just as much as Wayne did. He was certain of it. He just never thought he’d hear someone else say it.

Shortly after he spoke to Dustin, Wayne and the other trailer park residents were given the all clear to go back to their trailers and gather their things. The relief workers had marked it as safe for them to enter briefly, but no one was going to be allowed to stay there for very long. They were instructed to gather up anything important and head back to their temporary housing at the school as soon as possible. Eventually, they’d be able to come back and grab the rest of their things when more permanent housing was found for them, but for now, they were limited in how much they could take.

Wayne didn’t know how much of his stuff was going to be worth saving. Frankly, he was surprised that his trailer had even been left standing when he saw the fault line that ran through what had once been his living room. Out of an abundance of caution, he had entered through the door down near the bedroom instead of the main entrance. He moved quickly, shoving as many of his clothes in his bag as he could. He’d much rather wear his own stuff than the donations that people brought into the school.

After that, he grabbed the sentimental things. For once, he was thankful that he didn’t keep things in conventional places because that meant that all of his photo albums were safe. The notebooks full of Eddie’s childhood drawings and his favorite dragon picture were safe. Eddie’s beloved stuffed lion was safe. All of these were carefully added to his bag. But the one thing he couldn’t take was what hurt the most to leave behind.

He’d known the second that he saw the fault line running through his home that his mugs wouldn’t have made it. What was left of his living room display was now smashed on the floor, and he could tell just from the look of it that there was nothing he could save. He knew it was stupid for him to be so upset about them. They were just a bunch of mugs and nobody else would find them important. Anybody else wouldn’t give them a second thought because they could be replaced.

But they were important to Wayne. Those mugs tied him to better times with people he would never be able to see again. He could buy a new mug, but he couldn’t buy the mugs that Linda had stolen from her parents for him, he couldn’t buy the mugs that Eddie had eaten a worm to pay for, and he couldn’t buy the mug that Eddie gave him the first time he recognized him on Father’s Day. He couldn’t buy back the happiness that looking at those mugs and remembering their stories gave him. That was gone forever.

He didn’t want to set himself up for even more disappointment, but a part of him needed to know if the mugs that he stored in the cabinet had made it through the earthquake. Those were the ones that he used the most often. His favorites. He would be heartbroken if they were all destroyed, but he needed that closure.

When he opened the cabinet above the coffee maker, he was met with a shelf covered with the broken pieces of his mugs that had smashed against each other in the enclosed space. He knew not to get his hopes up, but it was still a painful sight to see.

But, pushed into the very back corner of the cabinet, there was one mug that appeared to still be intact. He carefully pulled it out of the debris to inspect it. Sporting a new chip on the handle, the mug featured the phrase “World’s Best Uncle” hand-painted on the side along with a bright blue baby handprint. The mug from Eddie’s first Christmas.

As he carefully wrapped the mug in a sheet of newspaper that was sitting on the floor underneath the kitchen table, Wayne felt himself choking back tears for the second time that day. It wasn’t his whole collection, but at least it was something. After all, he was only one man. He always said he didn’t need more than one mug.

#wayne munson fic #eddie munson fic #wayne munson #eddie munson #stranger things fic #my writing

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