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urhoneycombwitch · 8 months ago

Text

imagine being loved by me

🍯 honey flavour: your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.

🐝 the bees: rockstar!Eddie x jealous!Reader

wc: 8k

cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection

foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3

___

It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill.

Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.

“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”

“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”

“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days.

Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.

“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.

The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place.

Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”

You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.

“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”

“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”

As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”

“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”

“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.

Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”

He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.

“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.

You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”

Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.

He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.

In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you.

And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.

Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite.

After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”

You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge.

“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.

“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”

As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”

You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”

“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs).

“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”

He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”

“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue.

Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”

“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”

“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”

Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties.

“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”

Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”

You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”

This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”

He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”

You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”

Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”

“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.

Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”

____

The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.

You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.

Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.)

And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course.

As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you.

Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.

Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?

You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school.

And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before…

He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.

For now, you’ve got a party to attend.

Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event.

Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room.

When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)

The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh.

You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space.

The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.

He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.

Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts.

You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise.

There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals.

He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily.

You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.

The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.

The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.

So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.

By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form.

You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are.

You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.

Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.

Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.

You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.

It’s a vicious cycle that’s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.

There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.

“Baby? That you in there?”

Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.

“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”

He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”

Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.

And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda.

Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”

You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”

And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.

It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes.

“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.

“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”

You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.

When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.

You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”

But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”

“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.

“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.

Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”

“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.

His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak.

“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”

You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.

“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”

You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”

As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”

Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”

You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”

“Vaguely.”

“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”

Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet.

“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”

He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”

His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”

When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.

With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”

You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”

He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”

____

Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel.

“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”

He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.

“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”

“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”

“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”

You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”

Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.

Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours.

____

One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.

Also included? Soundproof walls.

A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”

Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.

Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.

You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”

He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here.

“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.

He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.

Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.

“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”

Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.

He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.

At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.

“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?”

His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”

Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position.

“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds.

He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.

Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.

“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude.

Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”

Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.

“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”

He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.

Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”

“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”

After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.

“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”

You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.

He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”

“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”

You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him.

“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”

Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there.

You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.

A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.

He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.

Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.

“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”

You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.

No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.

The boy is all yours.

Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.

Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.

Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.

His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”

With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.

“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.

“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.

Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”

You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone.

Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”

In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”

You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.

“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”

A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”

He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.

He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.

“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”

With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.

There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you.

He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.

“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.

The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you.

A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside.

The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.

Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks.

Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year.

Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”

You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”

Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in.

“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”

Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”

He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”

You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”

You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”

“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”

___

thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie

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fandomgirlz01 · 5 months ago

Text

You Matter Most Pt. 2

Evan “Buck” Buckley X Reader

Imagine on my fandom Instagram?: No

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No

Style of Writing: Mini Series

Edited: Yes

Word count: 5,635

Post Date & Time: June 6th 2024 at 12:31 AM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings here

You can listen to the story be read out loud here.

Summary: {Based off of S6 E18 Pay it Forward} When a series of freeway accidents lead to a big catastrophe, Buck must worry for his team as he rushes to help them all before it only leads to an even bigger disaster. All while working on helping his team he worries mostly for his best friend who’s unconscious for most of it.

Buck’s Pov:

We watch the van as it shifts for a few minutes before it starts to wiggle out of its spot.

“Get back! Get back!” I yell out to everyone and soon everybody rushes to get out of the way.

Hen groans as me and Eddie quickly push her away. The van now starts to roll and it rolls a full 360 before landing on the ground, making dust fly up around all of us as we all duck for cover. When we are clear of anything hitting us, me, Eddie and Hen all stop to turn and look at it. The ambulance shifts around now that the van isn’t holding it up and it’s only held by the rope I had tied to it. We all helplessly watch as the back doors fly open and Chimney comes flying out. He quickly grabs onto the back of it and hangs there, trying not to let go.

“Chim!” Hen screams out in fear as she and Eddie take a step forward.

“Hey, Chim! Chim, hang on!” I quickly call out from behind Hen and Eddie as I race back to the wreckage.

“Hang on! Hang on, Chim,” I call out as I run through all the dust and cars.

I quickly climb back up to where he is and I can hear him groaning as I do. He continues to hold onto the back of the ambulance as I grab the rope beside him and quickly jump over to him.

“I got him. I got him,” I call out when I’m with him.

I grab onto him and together we both climb to the side and away from the ambulance. Slowly, I start to scale down with him as he continues to groan out in pain. Soon we make it to the bottom and we turn around when we hear more sirens from other trucks. Chimney and I both sigh out in relief at the sound.

“Dispatch. I’ve got firefighter Han, going back for firefighter Maysen now,” I use my radio to let Maddie know Chimney is okay.

“Copy that,” Maddie replies over the radio, making me and Chimney smile at each other.

“I got him! Come on!” I yell out as I pick him up and rush him over to the other paramedics.

“All right. Let us though,” the other paramedics call out as they meet us in the middle with a gurney that I set Chimney on.

“I think we’re gonna need a new gurney,” Chimney jokes as Hen comes up next to him.

We all laugh as Hen and the others quickly assess him and get his wound wrapped up. He turns to me and pushes my hand away.

“Go get her. I’ve got Hen. Firecracker needs her best friend. Go,” he tells me and I smile at the nickname all of us use for her.

“Okay,” I finally agree, nodding before quickly heading back for the rope again.

“Ravi, I’m going to need you to send down the band saw once I get to y/n. Can you do that?” I ask into my radio and pause as I continue to climb.

“Yeah. You got it. Just let me know when,” he replies over the radio.

I climb for a few more minutes before getting closer to the slab. I go to pull myself up onto it, but it shifts so I stop for a moment. Once it settles, I try again more carefully and finally I’m right next to y/n. I stay on my knees in hopes of not being too much weight and take in a deep breath at how bad it actually is. Once I’m more calm, I start to move the ruble away from her.

“Ok, Ravi, send the bandsaw down,” I command through my radio.

It takes a few minutes, but soon the bandsaw that’s connected to a rope is next to me. I quickly grab it and start to saw the rebar as close as I can to the cement underneath her.

“Hen, do I pull her off or do I keep her attached?” I ask through my radio.

“Is there a lot of blood?” she asks me back though the radio and I gulp before pressing down on the button again.

“There’s a fair amount,” I push out my words as my throat starts to feel tighter.

“Then yes, keep her connected. They’ll have to remove it at the hospital,” she replies through the radio again and I nod even though she can’t see me.

I quickly saw as fast as possible while trying to keep it away from her skin. It takes a good few minutes of sawing back and forth at the rebar, but soon it comes apart. I can’t help but be thankful that the rebar wasn’t incredibly thick. With one last sigh, I throw the saw aside before gently moving her to the best position that I can.

Next, I jump lightly off the slab while a couple other firefighters from the 256 come over. They take her from me as I carefully try to move her down by myself, cooing softly into her ear that I’m here with her and that she’ll be okay. After finally getting down, they place her on a gurney and I follow as they wheel her over next to Chimney.

“Hey. You got her. How’s she doing?” Chimney asks as he lolls his head to the side to look at her.

“I don’t know. She’s lost a lot of blood…” I inform him as I watch the other paramedics work on her and prepare her to be transferred.

“This is Sargent Athena Grant. To anyone on scene. I have captain Nash of the 118 and a civilian. We’re trapped in the container at the bottom of the collapse,” comes Athena’s voice over the radio and we all pause to listen.

“He’s pinned. We’re in need of an assist with extraction,” she continues to explain and Chimney sits up, ready to help.

“No, Chim. Chim, stay,” I tell him, pointing at him as I start to head over while Hen and Eddie push him back down.

Eddie, Hen and I rush over as I call out for Bobby. We quickly look around for any way in and I climb a bit to get a better idea of what needs to be done.

“Hen, the door is completely blocked by debris,” Eddie voices to us as he leans against the container.

“Dispatch? Dispatch, we’re gonna need heavy rescue on the lower level of the interchange. There’s no way we’re going to be able to move all this debris,” Hen speaks into her radio while Eddie tries pushing on the doors.

We keep looking for a way in, but keep finding none. I climb back down and we keep trying, but still nothing seems to work.

“118, be advised. Caltrans crew is on site, prepared to assist,” Maddie’s voice comes over the radio and we all stop to look around.

Soon the crane drives over and I quickly reach out for some chains that were brought over. I loop the chains though whatever I can before the crane hooks come down. Once they get closer, I reach up and grab onto the first one I can reach and click it onto the chains.

“Yeah. Okay, up, up, up! Go, go, go!” I yell out as I motion for the driver to go up.

He does it and soon the slab of concrete debris is moving. I’m the first to rush in as it falls to the ground behind me and I open the door to the container with Ravi’s help. We immediately find them and with the civilian's help, Eddie and I lift the biggest piece of concrete off of Bobby. Once it’s out of the way, Hen and a few others come in with the airbag. Eddie quickly takes it out of the bag and shoves it under before grabbing the pump. He then starts to air it up, making the concrete lift off of Bobby.

Once it’s high enough, we all move back and I grab Bobby’s hand. I quickly pull him out and a stretcher is waiting for him when I do.

“I’m going with y/n. Hen, you got him?” I ask her and she nods.

“Yeah. Yeah. Go with Firecracker. Me and Athena have Bobby and Chim,” she tells me and I quickly nod before running off.

I quickly run over to her ambulance and they let me hop in with them before heading to the hospital. I hold her hand the whole way and force myself not to cry until I know more about her condition. Once at the hospital, they quickly open the doors of the ambulance and start to push her out. Just as we get out, everyone else seems to arrive as well. They push her farther into the hospital and I keep hold of her hand as all the others get pushed in as well.

“We’ve got an abdominal puncture wound. Seems to have missed major organs,” Hen quickly explains about Chimney as they wheel him though first.

“Already pushed two milligrams of morphine,” she shouts out, pointing to Chimney as they continue in and she spins back around.

“This one’s got a couple of broken ribs, refused to take anything for the pain,” she explains about Eddie as she helps Athena walk him in.

“I’m fine!” Eddie groans out through clenched teeth before Hen turns back around.

“No. You’re not,” Hen sternly tells him before moving on to Cap as they roll him in next.

“Captain has a probable AC joint sprain, over a dozen lacerations and too many bone bruises to count. Aside from that, he’s in one piece,” Hen informs them as they continue to push Bobby though and she walks by his side.

“Gonna take more than a couple tons of asphalt and a semi to take Cap down,” I comment as I walk in right behind them with y/n.

“Thanks to you guys and LAPD’s finest,” Bobby tells us as he nods at Athena.

“Just another day on the job,” Athena tells him before he too gets rolled off.

“We’ve got another abdominal puncture wound, not really sure if it hit any organs. Had to leave the rebar in her side due to major blood loss and still unconscious,” Hen updates y/n’s nurses that had taken over from the paramedics right before they got to the doors.

I keep a hold on her hand, not ready to leave her side. The nurses come to a stop, making me look up at them.

“Sir. You’ll have to stay out here while she’s in surgery,” the paramedic tells me as he holds a hand up and my eyebrows furrow.

“I’m not leaving her,” I disagree, shaking my head as anger takes over.

“Sir. I promise we’ll take the best care of her, but you can’t come back into surgery with her,” he again tells me and I unintentionally let out a growl.

“I am not leaving her. I can’t…” I petulantly fight back and he sighs, pinching at his nose.

“Sir. You can’t. I’m sorry, but you have to stay here. Why don’t you get yourself checked out so you’ll be ok when she needs you?” he offers and I take a moment to think about it.

“Buck. Let them take her back. She’ll be okay,” A voice speaks up as they grab onto my shoulder and slightly pulls me back.

I turn to the voice and see Maddie giving me a sorrowful look. Before I even have time to say anything, my big sister is pulling me into a hug. I sigh and relax into the hug, gripping onto my sister's shirt.

“She’ll be okay, Buck. She’s strong, remember? She’s not leaving you yet,” Maddie softly tells me as she rubs my back and I nod.

“Why don’t you go get checked out and I’ll make sure you're the first to know if there’s any news?” she asks me and I hesitate, but agree.

“Good. Umm, excuse me, ma’am. Can you please have my brother checked out? He’s part of the 118,” Maddie explains as she stops a nurse that was walking past us.

“Sure. If you would just follow me this way, sir,” the nurse says and I again hesitate, but follow her when Maddie gives a nod.

“I’m going to find Chim. When you're done, come find me, alright?” she asks me and I nod at her before turning and following the nurse.

The nurse takes me back to a bed and has me sit down on it. She then proceeds to look me over and only takes a few minutes before smiling softly.

“Well, Mr. Buckley, you only seem to have a very moderate concussion and very little cuts along with some bruising. You should be okay, just have someone be with you just in case,” she tells me and I nod as she takes off her gloves.

“Am I good to go?” I ask her and she nods softly with a ’Hmm’.

Once she gives me the okay, I pull back the curtain and head back out to the waiting room. I walk through the two double doors I’d gone through and find Maddie sitting and talking with Athena.

Third Person Pov:

After getting Buck to agree to get checked out, Maddie can breathe just a little easier. In her head she checks him off, happy that one of the three people she was most scared for is okay. She watches as he disappears with the nurse before rushing off to find Chimney. It takes her a few minutes, but finally she finds him and rushes over to him.

“Chim,” she calls out to him as she comes up next to him on the stretcher.

“Hey,” he tells her as he takes his oxygen mask off when he sees her.

“Hi,” she tells him with tears in her eyes.

“Don’t worry. It’s worse than it looks,” he jokes with a chuckle.

“Oh,” he moans as he doubles over ever so slightly. “I’m fine,” he groans out after the wave of pain hits him and she rubs his shoulder.

“Good. ‘Cause you’re not getting out of marrying me that easy,” she jokes back with a small laugh, making him chuckle.

“Plus, I think we may have a new couple you’ll want to see when all of this is said and done,” Maddie comments and Chimney gives her a shocked yet hopeful look.

“Really?” he questions and Maddie nods.

“Ha. I called it! Hen owes me 50 bucks!” Chimney calls out before groaning in pain and Maddie laughs.

“You two bet on Buck and y/n?” she questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Well to be fair, we were just betting they’d be together by the end of this month, not that one would get hurt. But in all fairness, it worked out in my favor…” Chimney tells her as he bounces his eyebrows weakly and she laughs.

“Oh…” she comments as she finally really looks him over. “Honey…” she whispers out as he grabs onto her hand.

“I love you,” he tells her and she grins.

“Love you, too,” she parrots him with a nod and he smiles at her. He lets out a breath as he lays his head back and she squeezes his hand.

Maddie comes walking back though the waiting room with two coffees in hand just as Athena walks out one of the other members of the 118. Maddie rounds the chair and meets up with Athena in the middle.

“So that’s everyone?” Maddie asks as she holds one of the coffees out for her.

“Yep. All the 118ers have been released and sent home. Except for ours,” Athena informs her as they both take a seat.

“Doctors think they can release Bobby tonight, though. And you?” Athena explains before pointing at Maddie, who sighs.

“We have one more scan for Chim, if it’s clear, then tomorrow morning. You can guess how he took that news,” Maddie jokes even though she still worries for one more.

“Bobby tried to roll himself into the elevator when I wasn’t looking,” Athena jokingly tells her and Maddie laughs.

“You know they spend all of their time with the sick and injured, and yet…” Maddie starts trailing off at the end.

“They are the worst patients,” Athena finishes off for her.

“Still doesn’t seem real,” Maddie comments as she watches the news on the Tv in the corner.

“That it happened, or that anyone survived it?” Athena asks and the mood becomes more serious.

“Both,” Maddie tells her with a nod.

“And they all can’t wait to get back out there again,” Maddie says, trying to lighten the mood again.

“It takes a special kind of crazy to want to live this life,” Athena jokes right back, making Maddie laugh.

“Oh, by the way. Congratulations on your engagement,” Athena reverently tells her and Maddie smiles.

“Thanks,” Maddie says with a smile before they clink their coffee cups together.

“So, how’s y/n?” Athena asks after a minute of silence.

“She’s doing okay, out of surgery,” Maddie starts to explain after sighing and shaking her head as she fights tears.

“The rebar missed all vital organs thankfully. It did however rupture part of her large intestine as well as her small intestine. The nurse said y/n got lucky, that it pierced between the two almost perfectly, that’s why there was so much blood, but the doctor was able to fully repair any damage and she’s in the ICU now,” Maddie continues to explain but pauses a moment when she gets choked up.

“They are saying hopefully she’ll wake up tomorrow morning and if she does, she’ll be in a regular room,” Maddie finishes explaining and takes a big breath of air in as more tears come up.

“She’ll be okay. How’s Buck dealing with it all?” She asks, making Maddie chuckle.

“How do you think he is? He wouldn’t even let go of her hand to let them take her to surgery,” Maddie explains with a roll of her eyes.

“Sounds like Buck. Where is he now?” Athena asks as she looks around for him.

“I sent him to get checked out too. He’s going to come find me soon hopefully. I’m going to try and get him to go home, but I don’t know if he will,” Maddie explains and Athena gives her a knowing look.

“That’s going to be one tough mission,” she comments and Maddie nods just as Buck walks through the door.

Buck’s Pov:

I sigh and rub my face as I walk over to Athena and Maddie. I stop just before them and Maddie pats the seat next to her.

“So?” Maddie questions and I huff as I sit down next to my sister.

“I don’t know why you had me get checked out. I just have a moderate concussion along with a few cuts and bruises, which I figured,” I inform her and she shakes her head.

“It made you think about something other than worrying about y/n,” she tells me and Athena gives me a soft, sympathetic smile.

“We’re glad you're okay too, though. You never know what could have been, especially with what you went through today,” Athena explains and I sigh before agreeing.

“And the last few years… like electrocution, the engine falling on top of you… ya know only to list a few…” Maddie adds on with a roll of her eyes making Athena chuckle.

“She is right you have been through a lot the last few years,” athen adds in her two cents.

“Yeah. Yeah. I guess you're right. How’s y/n and Chim?” I ask Maddie and she sighs.

“She’s out of surgery and in the ICU to be watched over. If she wakes in the morning, she’ll go to a normal room for recovery,” Maddie explains as she rubs my shoulder.

“The doctor says she should be just fine. Just like I said she’d be. Chim gets to go home tomorrow morning maybe,” she continues and I go to get up, but she pulls me back down.

“Where are you going?” she asks me with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m going to be with her,” I remark in a matter of fact tone and she sighs.

“No. You're going home. You need rest. Plus there’s no visiting in the ICU right now,” she commands and I shake my head before groaning.

“No way in hell am I going home. I’ll stay right here,” I fight back and she gives me the same stern look that she’d give me and Y/n as kids growing up.

“Buck. I will be here the whole night. I promise I will call if something happens, okay? Just please go home and get some rest. Plus, don’t you need to check in on Kameron?” Maddie questions and my eyes widen.

“Shit. I forgot about Kameron. Yeah, I probably should, seeing as Connor probably hasn’t,” I groan out, rubbing at my face.

“So, go home. Shower. Rest up a bit and then come back in the morning,” Maddie softly appeals to me as she rubs my back.

“I can’t leave her though, Mads,” I speak with my voice trembling ever so slightly and my eyes filling up with tears.

“I know, but baby brother you need to think of yourself too. I promise I will call right away if anything happens, okay?” she practically begs me and I sigh, nodding slowly.

“Okay, but the MOMENT something happens, I am called…” I sternly tell her and she nods admittedly.

“The very moment,” she promises me and I sigh, nodding.

“Okay. I’ll go home then,” I agree, making Athena and Maddie give each other triumphant looks.

“Okay. Try and get some form of rest,” she commands me as I stand up.

“I’ll try, but no guarantees,” I promise her and she smiles, nodding softly.

“All I ask is that you try, okay?” she asks me as she gets up too.

“Okay…” I agree before she’s pulling me into a hug.

I close my eyes and grip onto my sister a little harder, letting the comfort take over. She rubs at the back of my head and I hold back tears at the thought that she’s not the only one that does that. She pulls away and I open my eyes to look at her. She gives me a soft smile of encouragement before squeezing my arm.

“She’ll be okay, baby brother. You just have to believe it,” she promises me and I nod, not trusting my voice at the moment.

“Maybe by then Bobby will be released,” Athena comments and I just nod, unable to get any words out.

“Buck. You’ve been through so much, so has she. She’s not going to let this be what takes her out. I just know it,” Maddie encourages me and I sigh, nodding as I wipe at my face quickly.

“Okay. Ready to go?” Athena asks and I hesitate again, but slowly agree.

Athena nods solemnly, then nods to Maddie before we both turn and start to walk towards the doors. We quietly walk to her patrol car and she unlocks it. Both of us get in and she starts the car up.

“Do you want me to take you to get your car in the morning?” she asks me as she starts driving and I pause a moment to think about it.

“If it’s not too much trouble, yeah,” I agree and she smiles softly at me.

“It’s never too much trouble for you, Buck,” she tells me in a soft tone and I weakly smile.

“Thank you, Athena. Really,” I speak in a reverent tone and she nods.

She continues to drive for a little while longer before pulling up at my apartment complex. She parks the car and turns to me.

“You take care of yourself, okay. I know you’re worried for our girl, but I know she’s strong. She’ll be awake before you know it,” Athena sympathizes with me as she reaches over and squeezes my arm.

“I promise. Plus, I’ll probably have Kameron nitpicking all over me the second I walk through the door. I’ll be good,” I inform her and she smiles softly.

“That’s all we ask, Buck. I’ll call you in the morning when I’m on my way to come get you,” she explains and I nod softly at her before getting out of the car.

After closing her car door, I walk up to the entrance of the complex before going inside. Once I’m in, I walk over to the elevator and press my floor’s botton. As I wait for the elevator, I lean against the wall and let out a sigh while frustratedly rubbing at my face. The elevator finally starts to go up and I let out another puff of air as it feels like a forever ride.

Finally the elevator comes to a stop and the doors slowly open. I let out one more huff at the thought that just this morning, she was walking these halls with me. I slowly walk down the hall, almost dragging my feet to my apartment, pull out my keys and unlock the door. The door clicks open and I turn the knob until I can push it open.

The lights are still on when I walk in, making me confused so I walk a little farther in. Kameron sits on the couch watching some TV with a jar of peanut butter. She slowly turns to look at me and drops her spoon.

“Oh my goodness, Buck. I saw the news. Is everyone doing okay?” she asks me and I pause before shaking my head.

“Almost everyone is fine. Y/n’s the only one that got injured badly,” I tell her and she frowns, getting up to come over to me.

“I’m sorry. I know you want to be with her,” she tells me as she pulls me into a hug.

“I’ll see her in the morning. For now I’m nursing a concussion, so you’ll be in charge of keeping me up,” I tell her and she smiles softly as she nods.

“Of course. I can do that. Hold that thought, I gotta go pee,” she informs me before rushing off and I chuckle, shaking my head.

I sit down on the couch and immediately my mood falls again when I see the picture of us that sits on my coffee table. I gulp and pick it up, remembering the memory for a small moment before Kameron walks back out.

“She’ll be okay, Buck. I’ve only known her for a year at most, but I know she’s strong,” Kameron comforts me and I sigh, nodding as I put the picture back.

“It’s only been a few hours, but I miss her so much, Kam,” I cry out and she smiles sympathetically before sitting down next to me.

“I know, honey. I know,” she sweetly tells me as she pulls me into a hug and strokes my head lovingly.

“You’ll be a great mom, Kam. I’m glad I could help you guys have that,” I tell her and she giggles lightly.

“You really think so?” she asks me and I pull back, nodding.

“Look how you just comforted me. I know so, Kam,” I promise her and she smiles softly at me.

“Well thank you, Buck. That makes me feel a lot less scared,” she informs me and I smile softly at her.

“Of course, Kam. I can’t wait to watch your little family grow,” I again promise her and she swats at me.

“Enough you big ol’ sap! I’m hormonal, you’ll make me cry,” she tells me and I chuckle.

“Okay… okay… I’m done. I swear,” I tell her as I throw my hands up in surrender and lean back into the couch.

“Let’s just watch some TV, yeah?” she asks as she picks up the remote and I just nod at her.

It’s now been a few hours since I got home and so far I’ve done laundry, watched some mindless TV with Kameron, and done a little bit of cleaning. I even do some of y/n’s laundry for her, knowing how much she’d need clean clothes when she gets out of the hospital. Maddie texted a little while after I put the last load of laundry in. She informed me she took Chim home, but that she’s back at the hospital with y/n. Now I stand at the counter, doing some dishes as Kameron goes to the bathroom for the fourth time.

“Uh, hey, you… you doing okay?” I ask as I turn around from putting one of y/n’s cups into the cupboard as she comes out of the bathroom.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve gone in the last hour,” I observe as she stops at the bottom of the stairs.

“Well, I have a whole human leaning on my bladder,” she snarkily replies as she rubs her belly.

“So the struggle is real,” she finishes with a sigh as she turns back to the living room and I turn back to another dish as she continues to the living room.

“Ow?” she says after she lets out a hiss and stops where she’s at, grabbing onto the stairs with one hand as she holds her stomach with the other.

“Uh… what… what was that?” I ask her in concern, stopping what I’m doing to look over at her.

“Um, I don’t know…” she trails off before trying to start walking again.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow…” she repeats over and over as she doubles over.

“Uh… was it… was it a contraction?” I ask her as I jog lightly over to her.

“Uh, I think so,” she informs me as she doubles over again and I put my hand on her back.

“Um, I don’t know. I— I felt something earlier, but it didn’t feel like this, you know?” she explains as I lead her over to the couch.

“It wasn’t that stro— oh, my God!” she continues before doubling over halfway to the couch as she screams out in pain.

“Uh, okay, why don’t we have you sit down?” I calmly ask her as I point at the couch.

“I’m gonna call your doctor—” I start to say but she cuts me off.

“I’m in labor,” she informs me in a matter of fact tone and I reach out for her.

“You—you don’t know that,” I say just as I hear the sound of liquid trickling.

“My water just broke,” she says in realization and she stands straight again.

“Something’s wrong. This is too early. This is too early,” she starts to panic and I quickly reach out for her again.

“Um, okay, it is early, yes, but it’s— it’s not too early,” I rush to calm her as I hold onto her hands.

“Let's sit you down, okay?” I calmly ask her and she nods, giving a small ‘okay’ of her own as I lead her the rest of the way to the couch.

“Let’s focus on our breathing,” I gently command as she sits.

“Okay… in…” I tell her before breathing with her and soon she starts to groan in pain.

“You got it, you’re a pro,” I try to coach her though, but her groans only intensify.

“Come on, it's okay. Let’s— let’s lay down,” I lightly command again as I grab her shoulders and guide her into a laying down position.

“Go on, I got ya. Nice and easy. Nice and easy,” I tell her calmly as I lift her legs for her and guide them onto the couch as she gives a head nod as well as a small ‘okay’.

“Okay, just keep that breathing going. In. There you go. You're doing great. Just breathe,” I continue to coach her for a few minutes and she seems somewhat calmer.

“Uh, you know, I’m gonna call the paramedics. Just in case. Okay?” I inform her as I pull my phone out and quickly dial 911.

“Uh, you’re doing good. You’re doing great. Don’t panic,” I try to keep her calm and possibly myself from freaking out as I put the phone up to my ear.

“911, how can I help you?” One of the dispatchers pick up the phone.

“I’m at 574 Grand Street. I have a woman in premature labor; it’s coming on fast,” I pause as the woman asks me some information while Kameron groans out in more pain.

“Close. Minutes,” I inform her as she types up the information.

“Uh, hey, hey, just stay calm, paramedics are on their way,” I tell Kameron as I quickly move the phone away from my mouth so I can try and calm her.

“I’m gonna grab some towels and hot water. Just in case. You’re doing great,” I encourage her one last time before rushing to the bathroom and starting to grab the towels.

“Buck!!!” she calls out for me and I rush a little quicker.

“Hurry up,” she groans out in pain as she lays back on the couch again and I open the door so the paramedics can come right in.

“Yeah. I’ll be right there,” I tell her before I rush around the kitchen for all the supplies I need.

“Hello?” A voice calls out and I hear a light knock on the door as I finish filling a bowl full of warm water.

“Wow, that was fast. She’s- she’s on the couch,” I call out over my shoulder as I keep my attention on the water.

“Who?” The voice calls out again, making me turn to look at the door to see Natalia, the girl I’ve been going out on dates with for a while.

I silently curse to myself, remembering we had agreed to talk before all of the events today. I stop the water and turn around to her.

“Natalia… uh, hi…” I say awkwardly, pausing for a moment.

“Buck!!!” Kameron shouts out and I quickly snap back into action.

“What- what is happening?” Natalia asks and I quickly grab all the towels and the bowl.

“I— I need your help. Come on. This way,” I inform her quickly as I rush over to Kameron and she follows me.

As we quickly walk over, my mind races a mile a minute as I try to place all of my energy on Kameron. I try to keep back the thought of just wishing y/n were here right now and how I’m going to have to have a talk with Natalia, but it’s really hard to just focus. I don’t want to hurt Natalia, but after today I realized y/n is the one for me. How do I tell Natalia that? Soon, though, I’m pulled out of my thoughts and back into rush mode when Kameron yells out for me again.

To Be Continued…

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alltheirdamn · 5 months ago

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Epilogue

Summary: Joel had always been the one. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: None! Enjoy whatever comes! A/N: So, here we are at last. The final goodbye to one of my favorite pairings :') It is so bittersweet to end their story, but I am so thankful you all have supported it and loved it along the way! Tommy & Beth's story will be coming soon, so I hope you guys stick around for it! All my love, xoxo <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“Sarah!” You called from downstairs. “We need to leave soon so we aren’t late!”

“Coming!” She shouted back.

You could hear her footsteps shuffling across the loft, no doubt in a rush trying to find her backpack. It was the first day of school, and you were the brand new eighth-grade teacher—totally not because you wanted to keep teaching Sarah before high school.

The three of you had spent the summer in a whirlwind, between camping trips and helping Joel work on a business plan for his own job. You even took a small trip to Boston to see your family; you needed to get the closure you deserved finally. But you couldn’t think about that trip now; you needed Sarah to hurry up.

“Joel,” you grumbled. “Can you please get her down here?”

Joel was leaning against the kitchen counter, his coffee mug half-full and lifted to his lips. He rolled his eyes at you, his lips curling into a soft smile.

“I got it, baby. Go get your ass in the car, and I’ll make sure she has everythin’ together.”

You gave him a quick peck on the lips before slinging your bag over your shoulder. A large hand closed over your bicep, and Joel yanked you back into his broad frame.

“No y’don’t. Give me a real kiss,” he chuckled.

He pressed a hand into your lower back, holding you firm to his chest as he bent down to kiss you. You deepened the kiss, your tongue overlapping his with a soft whimper off your lips. Joel swallowed every noise and pressed you against his lips for as long as he could.

“Grossssss,” Sarah groaned, startling you both.

You jumped back from Joel’s embrace, staring at Sarah with an embarrassed smile.

“Can you guys not do that? At least wait for the wedding.”

Joel barked a laugh, kissing your cheek with wet lips before pushing you out of the kitchen.

“I can kiss my future wife all I want, sweetheart,” he protested.

Future wife.

You loved it when he said that. You loved it even more when he was pinning you to the bed and whispering it in your ear as he fucked you. Lazy strokes and sweet words… The thought alone had you clenching your thighs beneath your skirt.

Joel didn’t waste a moment proposing after you moved in. He and Tommy had snuck away one Saturday to a jewelry store to find the perfect ring, and he proposed that night. The tiny diamond sat snug on your finger, the gold band reflecting the sunlight every time you admired it—which you did a lot.

You and Joel were still working through the mess created after your accident, but there was no question that you’d marry him. At least you knew he wouldn’t run from the wedding; the thought of it happening kept you up some nights.

Both you and Sarah arrived at the school with only ten minutes to spare. She’d be in your final class for the day, so you parted ways and made your way to your new classroom. Joel had helped you set up your room over the last week, hanging the posters you couldn’t reach and remaining adamant about keeping you from any possible chance of falling. God forbid you hit your head again; it wasn’t something you liked to think of often.

Walking into the classroom, you quickly set up your lesson plans and placed worksheets on each desk. The first week of school would be the easiest for you and the students. A slight tap on the door jolted you from rushing around, and you looked up to see Maria sheepishly standing in the doorway.

“Welcome back,” she said.

Neither of you had spoken since the end of the year, and you still weren’t sure what to say. Joel had explained to you that Maria wasn’t entirely at fault for anything; she only meant to care for you and keep you company throughout the years between. At the start of last year, he mentioned that he considered going after you, which was why Maria was always so pushy about talking to Joel. And she had, in fact, been the mastermind behind ‘Happy Hour’ when Joel showed up.

You couldn’t stay mad forever, even if sometimes you desperately wanted to. Anger was all you had known for months, and you worked hard to replace it and battle through it as the summer went on. But right now, you could put that aside and at least be cordial with Maria.

“Thank you, Maria.” You gave her a tentative smile.

“Can I come in? I wasn’t sure if I’d catch you before the day started, and I was hoping we could chat.”

You nodded, motioning to one of the desks. Maria entered the room and leaned against the edge of the desk, waiting for you to settle into your chair. You tried ignoring the emails that continued to chime on your computer, attempting to give her your full attention, which she deserved.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I had no intention of lying to you, but I only wanted to see you happy. After the accident, it was so hard for me to lose you in the way I did. Giving you a place to live after your breakup with Bennett and seeing you meet Joel… Then nothing. I cared for you like a daughter and wanted to continue being there for you.”

“I know you did,” you sighed. “It’s been hard having to adjust after regaining my memory, and it’s taking a lot out of me to try to work through it all. I hope you know I appreciate all the care you’ve shown me. Before the accident and after. I just needed time to process it all.”

“If you ever need anything, sweetie, you know I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

You reached your arms to hug her, and Maria took the opportunity without question. Her warm embrace was enough to bring you to tears; you did miss her—a lot. Pulling away, you lifted your hand a little to show off the sparkle on your ring finger.

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed, grabbing your hand.

You laughed at her excitement and allowed her to admire the ring on your finger.

“The wedding is next month,” you told her. “Joel and I would love for you to come if you would like.”

“Are you kidding? Of course, I want to come!”

She pulled you in for another tight hug, muttering a litany of ‘thank you’s.’ Eventually, the school bell rang, she ran out of the room, and you settled back at your desk for the beginning of the day.

Not even two minutes after the final bell rang, Sarah was barreling into your classroom with a big smile. You had just seen her in the third hour during her own class, but her excitement never failed to make your heart swell with happiness.

“Ready to go home, kiddo?” You chuckled.

“So ready! I think Dad is cooking us dinner, and I’m starving.”

You ruffled her curls softly before tucking her under your arm and leaving the classroom. The person you were last year—before remembering everything—would have never allowed this to happen. Dating your student’s father was out of line and, quite frankly, not your forte, but this was an exception. A very necessary exception.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, you heard your phone ringing in your purse. Sarah was quick to retrieve it, staring confused at the caller ID.

“Who is it?” You asked, glancing away from the road.

“Aunt Beth.”

Shit.

Things hadn’t been great between you two since the trip back to Boston over the summer, but it was better. If you sat in silence long enough, the bitterness and anger returned in full force. Joel was your voice of reason, calming you down from the resurgence of emotions and always quickly reminding you of Beth's work to fix the relationship. You only hoped they weren’t empty promises and she would prove herself to be who she was before the accident.

“Here, let me see it,” you said, extending your hand.

Pressing answer, you held the phone to your ear and hoped Sarah didn’t see the trembling in your fingertips.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sis,” Beth said. It was easy to hear the frustration in her greeting.

“Everything okay?” You asked.

You came to a slow roll at the red light in front of you, relaxing your white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Sarah rubbed an assuring hand over your arm, and you turned to give her a sad smile. She was like her father, so receptive and aware of your emotions.

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know, I just… Do you want me there? Are you sure?”

“At my wedding?” You questioned. “I already told you I wanted you there. I extended the invite to the entire family, including you.”

“I know, but being your bridesmaid feels wrong.”

A car horn blared behind you, and your eyes snapped up to see the green light staring down at you. You inhaled sharply and pressed the gas.

“Joel and I already talked about it, and we both agree not having you there would be something I might regret one day. I want you and Stell both up there with me.”

“You’re sure?” She asked, her voice cracking.

“Yes, Beth. I’m sure. Now, are you flying out on the day of the reception or the day before? I just need to make sure your hotel room is booked and set up before you get here.”

“I’ll fly in the day before with Stell. I think Mom and Dad are coming the day after.”

“Okay, good. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of. Just please promise me you’ll be there.”

“I promise, sis,” she sighed.

You rounded the corner into the neighborhood and pulled up to the house. Joel’s truck was already parked in the driveway, his truck bed overflowing with work tools and wooden planks. You nodded at Sarah to head in while you finished the phone call—you needed a moment alone before going inside.

“I just got home, Beth, so I’ve got to run. I’ll send you the information for the hotel and everything, okay?”

“Wait, before you go,” Beth hesitated.

“Yeah?”

“I’m still really sorry,” she admitted. “About everything.”

You scrubbed a hand down your face, holding back a wave of tears that threatened to break your composure. Beth wasn’t one to show her emotions or speak them this freely. Her vulnerability was something you were still adjusting to, among everything else.

“I know you are, sis,” you exhaled.

“I’ll, um, I’ll let you go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

You didn’t get the chance to say goodbye before the phone line went dead. Resting your head against the steering wheel, you let the tears run down your face. It was hard to control your emotions these days, and today was no different. Between seeing Maria and talking to Beth, you were exhausted. The wedding planning hadn’t been stressful until now, but knowing Beth was having second thoughts about even coming? The stress was starting to creep in.

A light tap on the window jolted you from your tearful silence. You turned your head to see Joel standing outside the door, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Seeing him was the final nail in the coffin, and you lost it completely. He was quick to yank the door open and wrap his arms around your limp body.

“Sarah told me Beth called,” he confessed. “I’m sorry, baby. I know this isn’t easy.”

You clung to his shirt, nestling your head into his neck. The work day still lingered on his skin, the smell of fresh wood and sweat flooding your senses. He smelled like home.

“Am I making the wrong decision?” You choked out.

Joel’s grip tightened around you, his sturdy frame grounding your emotions to cascade into. You fell victim to your cries, your tears dampening the cotton tee he wore.

“You’re makin’ the mature decision, baby,” he stated. “It took a lot for you even to see them this summer, but the wedding will fly by, and this can all be put behind us.”

“I just don’t want to be let down again,” you cried.

“No one's gonna let you down. I’ll make sure of it, ‘kay?”

You peeled yourself away from him, wiping away the tears that trailed down your cheeks. Joel’s brown eyes softened as he took in your fragile state, his lips turning down. Cradling your head in his hands, Joel brought your forehead to his lips for a comforting kiss.

“Hey, I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” you whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Y’know how I feel ‘bout you sayin’ that, baby,” Joel grinned.

The slight shift in the color of his eyes was warning enough to make your emotions skyrocket in a different way. You gave him a shy smile before pecking him on the lips and jumping out of the car. Joel quickly wound an arm around your front and hauled you back to him.

“You’re lucky we got dinner on the table,” he whispered in your ear. “Punishment’s gonna have to wait ‘til later.”

“Punishment?” You echoed.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, dragging his mouth over the shell of your ear.

You shivered at the touch, your body molding against his. Leave it to Joel to always turn your mood around; it’s what you loved about him. The worst days could be changed in minutes, and you weren’t afraid to be vulnerable with him. You also weren’t afraid to rile him up, too.

Shifting your body slightly, you brushed your ass against the crotch of his jeans, rewarding yourself with the hardening bulge of his cock. Joel groaned at the brief touch, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

“Oops, I’m sorry,” you giggled.

You repeated the motion, Joel’s body tensing behind you.

“Oh gosh,” you feigned distressed. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re gonna regret that, baby,” Joel growled.

With a sharp smack on your ass, Joel urged you toward the front door—not before readjusting himself several times before entering the kitchen.

Sarah had long gone to bed by the time you and Joel retired to your room. You took time showering and readying for bed while Joel sprawled against the sheets. Peeking around the corner, you caught a glimpse of his body, nearly naked, except for a pair of black boxers. It still didn’t feel real that you had found your way back to him, and it especially didn’t feel real that you’d be marrying him in less than a month.

“I know you’re starin’ at me over there,” Joel chuckled.

You emerged from behind the door, a grin on your face. Joel propped himself against the headboard, his hands locked behind his head and his biceps flexing slightly.

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m allowed to admire my handsome future husband.”

“Get your ass up here, baby.”

You happily obliged and jumped onto the bed, straddling his waist as you bent down to kiss him. Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he deepened the kiss, his hand carding through your hair to anchor you closer.

“If I’m not mistaken,” he muttered between kisses. “Y’said somethin’ earlier that you shouldn’t have.”

You trailed your lips down his neck, humming softly with each press of your lips.

“I did?” You teased.

“Three times,” Joel groaned.

His fingers laced tightly between the tendrils of your hair, pulling your head up until there was nowhere to look but into his dark eyes. The swell of his pupils had replaced the soft amber colors of his irises, a mischievous look flashing across his face.

“This is what’s gonna happen, baby. You’re gonna slide that beautiful body up here and ride my tongue ‘til you cum three times.”

“Three?” You repeated, your eyes growing wide.

Joel huffed a laugh and hooked his arms under your thighs. You fell forward, your hands bracing onto the headboard. Joel lucked out with you already being bare under your t-shirt; it was easy work for him, especially when you were already drenched with arousal. A small swipe of his nose over your throbbing clit was enough to elicit a soft moan from your mouth.

“Bite your lip and stay quiet for me, baby,” Joel mumbled. “Can’t wake up Sarah with all your noise.”

“Okay,” you exhaled.

Joel flattened his tongue against your entrance and licked a long, slow stripe through your wet folds. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he had instructed, you bit back a desperate whine that threatened to escape. You rolled your hips slightly, the pointed tip of his tongue dragging over your aching bud softly. The fire crept through your veins, catapulting you closer to the edge as Joel’s jaw worked relentlessly at your leaking entrance.

“Joel,” you whispered, a faint whimper leaving your lips.

“Shh,” he hummed.

The low vibration of his hush radiated through your pulsating clit, forcing you to jerk away from his mouth. His calloused fingers dug further into the skin of your thighs, anchoring you down onto his face. His tongue worked faster at your clit, stroking it with tantalizing flicks of his tongue. Flames burst through your stomach with each move of his mouth, your thighs quaking in his grip. So close… you were so close. Joel felt it, too, and latched his mouth around the sensitive bud.

“Joel!” You cried, the orgasm barreling through your body.

He didn’t let up, his tongue dipping into your entrance and lapping at the juices leaking from you. Your hand shot to the curls at the crown of his head, tugging him off of your sex, your body still twitching from the aftershocks of your climax.

“That was only one, baby,” Joel muttered into the flesh of your inner thigh.

He pressed wet kisses against your skin, working his way back to your center with small kitten licks over every inch of you. Your thighs clenched around his face, framing him perfectly between your legs. You glanced at him only to find his dark eyes staring at you. The air knocked out of your lungs, seeing him under you in such blissed-out beauty. Joel shifted his face up, revealing his arousal-coated mustache and wet plush lips.

“Y’gonna give me two more?” He asked, his mouth curving into a grin.

You nodded vigorously, guiding him back to your swollen bud. Joel rested his tongue over your center, nudging you silently with a slight tilt of his head. Dragging your hips forward, you lowered yourself onto his open mouth. Back and forth, you moved against his tongue, tremors wracking through your limbs with each pass.

“Joel! I’m gonna—.” You choked on your words.

With one hand grasped on the headboard and the other tangled in his sweat-soaked curls, you bore down and let your second orgasm surge through your body. Biting your lip did little to help the cry of pleasure that escaped your mouth. You lifted yourself from his face, attempting to unlatch yourself from his tight grip.

“Nuh uh, baby,” Joel protested, his voice husky. “One more.”

“I can’t,” you whined.

You stumbled over his body, collapsing into the bed beside him. Joel rolled over you, his eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. The lower half of his face was coated in your arousal, his chin and beard glistening in the dim lights of the bedroom. You wound your arms around his neck, pulling him to your lips. The sweet smell of your arousal hit your nose as his mouth collided with yours. Joel groaned against your lips, coaxing your mouth open wider. You tilted your head to give him better access, your tongues dancing in unison in a heated kiss.

You felt Joel’s hand slide between your bodies, his body shifting slightly as he pushed down the boxers from his waist. The weight of his heavy cock rested on your thigh, and you hooked your leg higher to give him access to your dripping sex.

“Got one more in you, baby?” Joel asked, his mouth roaming down your neck.

“I think so,” you said, your voice shaky.

Joel suctioned his lips to the hollow of your neck, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. You gasped at the intrusion, your body adjusting to the girth of his cock as he split you open. Joel carded a hand through your hair and glued his eyes to yours as he thrusted into you slowly. Your bodies moved in a simple rhythm; when he drove into you, you careened back. Soft cries and heavy grunts, each of you flowing in perfect harmony.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” Joel whispered.

“Feels so good, Joel,” you panted.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the swell of release at your fingertips as Joel speared into you deeper with each cadence of his hips. You were overstimulated and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but you wanted to come undone with him. You wanted to fall over the edge together; you wanted this moment to be something you shared. Lifting your mouth to his ear, you whined softly, garnering a low growl from his chest.

“I love you.”

Three simple words. It was enough to send Joel over the edge, his body tensing above you as he drove into you one last time. Your sex clenched around his cock, milking him through his release. His cock dragged against the aching walls of your sex as he pulled out, his body resting heavily on top of yours. With his head pressed to your heaving chest, you ran your fingers through the dark curls resting at the base of his neck.

“You tired?” You laughed softly, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” Joel argued.

“Get some sleep, handsome. I love you.”

“I love you so much, baby.”

He nuzzled further into your embrace, a soft yawn exhaling from his mouth. You smiled to yourself, reveling in the fact that this was your life. Here, at this moment, everything you had endured was worth it. It was worth it knowing someone inexplicably loved you. Someone who wasn’t going to leave, no matter how hard things may be. Joel fought tooth and nail to have you back, and you learned to forgive his faults. His patience and unwavering love were enough to battle any doubts that lingered in your mind.

He was yours, just as much as you were his.

Outside your bridal suite, storm clouds swirled in the sky. You had watched the news channel praying for a sunny wedding day all week, but the Texas weather laughed at your pleas. The thunderstorm looming in the distance was only the tip of the iceberg in your ever-growing levels of anxiety.

“Sis, it’s gonna be okay,” Beth urged.

Beth and Stella were the only ones in the room with you, and they both sat at the edge of the bed, watching you helplessly pace the floor. You itched to undo the tight bun your hair had been wrangled into, the pain of each bobby pin shooting another jolt of pain into the onset headache forming in your head.

“What if he doesn’t show? What if Joel doesn’t want this? What if—?”

“Oh my God, stop!”

It wasn’t Beth that cut off your rambling, but Stella. She wasn’t one to raise her voice often, but it was enough to halt your frantic thoughts. You threw yourself onto the chair in the corner of the room, letting out an exasperated sigh. Stella rose from the bed, carefully sidestepping the hem of her silk bridesmaid dress as she waltzed to where you sat. She lowered herself to her knees and stared up at you with pleading eyes.

“Joel loves you, sis,” she stressed. “He’s not going to leave you. All of these pre-ceremony jitters will go away the second you walk down that aisle.”

“But—.”

She held up her hand in protest, shaking her head sternly.

“No more of that. You are going to put on your dress and get ready.”

You glanced at your wedding dress hanging on the back of the door. The white fabric was a haunting reminder of the rain-soaked dress you had worn only years ago, dirtied by the mud and broken hopes left in Bennett’s wake. You chewed at your lip to stifle back a cry, your brain ready to disintegrate with all the pressure building inside your head.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, the admission frightening you.

Beth groaned, leaving the bed to join Stella on the ground. You had spoken little since she came into town, sharing only a few shallow words in passing when necessary. But the seriousness in her eye ignited a new wave of fear; her words could slice you clean through if you let it. Saying your name softly, Beth clasped a hand around yours and inhaled a sharp breath.

“You can do this, and you will. I know you’re scared, but Joel is waiting for you. He’s been waiting for you for years, and he’s not going anywhere. Trust me when I tell you no one in this world loves you more than he does, okay?”

A tear slipped down your cheek at Beth’s words. The way she spoke of Joel was night and day from how she spoke of Bennett. Her words regarding Bennett had been laced with venom strong enough to poison even your happiest memories—whatever those had been. They were fighting words, and each punch was perfectly placed. With Joel, she only spoke with sincerity. Both she and Stella had been there to see Joel at his worst after the accident, watching the life he had made with you crumble away within the hospital. They had been there to experience his grief firsthand, and that was something you could never argue. Joel held a special place in both of their hearts, a bond you couldn’t remember but couldn’t deny.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, burying your head in your hands. You threw caution to the wind when it came to ruining your makeup. It was a lost cause at this point.

“Hey, come here,” Beth whispered.

She hauled you into her arms, wrapping herself around you. Stella followed her lead, both huddling around you as you cried quietly. Time had stolen so much from you, time you couldn’t get back with your sisters. Putting everything aside, you sat in the moment with them and let their strength hold you up.

“Okay, okay,” you sighed, peeling yourself away. “Can you both help me get into my dress?”

Stella squealed excitedly, hauling herself up and hurtling toward the door where it hung. Beth gave you one final squeeze and a quiet “I love you” before joining Stella.

You discarded your robe on the bed and stood awkwardly before them in your bridal lingerie. Both of them whistled at you provocatively, their eyes growing wide. You blushed at their giddiness, motioning for them to bring the dress to you. The three of you worked silently as you slipped into the tulle fabric. Beth worked at zipping up the back while Stella secured the gossamer sleeves over your shoulders. The fabric was cool against your skin, a welcome reprieve from the warm anxiety that simmered below the surface. You were ready after a few final touches on your makeup and the clasping of your heels.

“Breathe, peanut,” your dad whispered in your ear.

The bouquet in your hand was shaking from the trembling in your fingers. You stared through the glass door into the open courtyard where everyone sat, the sky darkening by the minute. In the distance, you could spot Joel's outline as he stood under the floral arch above the altar. He was right there…waiting.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the wedding planner said, grasping the door handle before you.

You turned your head to look at your dad, his features soft and emotional. If he cried, you’d soon follow, and you couldn’t ruin your makeup again. You squeezed his arm and nodded to the wedding planner.

“I’m ready,” you whispered.

With a gentle push of the door, you stepped over the threshold and into the humid air of the early evening. The soft crescendo of the Wedding March began to drift through the open space, and your friends and family all turned to stand. Your eyes shifted side to side, looking down each row at the warm smiles in your direction. Maybe if you didn’t look down the aisle, the fear of Joel running away wouldn’t come true. Look anywhere else. Your steps faltered, and you felt a wave of anxiety assault your nerves.

“He’s waiting for you,” your dad mumbled. “Look up.”

You lifted your head and found Joel watching you with the brightest smile. His hair was tamed and slicked down with gel, and his beard was trimmed short—but still patchy in small areas along his jaw. His broad frame stretched out the black suit that was tailored perfectly to his body, and something about the refined look on him made your heart leap. If you weren’t already breathless, seeing his eyes stole any air left in your lungs. Joel’s brown eyes sparkled with fresh tears under the gray skies. Not even the darkest storm clouds could darken the amber flecks glimmering in his irises.

As you neared the altar, you also realized his hands were trembling. His fingers fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt, and his body shifted from side to side as he waited for you. The music drifted to a close as you finally approached the altar, just inches from Joel. He didn’t run. He was standing right there.

You turned to your dad, giving him a tearful hug and a quiet thank you. Joel stepped forward to give your dad a firm handshake, a warm smile gracing his face. As they said their final words to one another, you handed off your bouquet to Beth, who stood behind you, along with Stella and Sarah. Sarah’s cheeks were damp with tears as she grinned at you brightly, her skin radiant in her green dress. You blew her a kiss and turned back to Joel.

“Y’look so fuckin’ beautiful,” he exhaled, wiping a tear from his face.

“And you look extra handsome,” you grinned.

Joel chuckled, clasping his hands around yours. Your fingers squeezed around his knuckles, and your thumb rubbed soothing circles over the rough skin of his hand. The officiant beside you cleared his throat, and you and Joel turned your attention to him.

“Family and friends,” he began. “Thank you all for joining us today for this wonderful union of love.”

The officiant's words faded into the background as you stared up at Joel, capturing this moment in your memory. Years of loss, pain, and grief all led you to this moment—right here. With Joel’s hands wrapped around yours and his loving smile shining down on you, it was all worth it.

“I understand that you both have written your own vows,” the officiant said, interrupting the flood of emotions inside you.

Beth tapped you on your shoulder, handing you the small paper you had scribbled your vows onto that morning.

“Okay,” you sighed. You smoothed out the paper in your hand, your eyes hardly focusing on the words before you.

You opened your mouth to speak but paused as the first drop of rain splattered across the ink. A laugh bubbled out of you as you tilted your head up toward the sky. Rain misted your face, the slow sprinkle of rain dampening the ground around you.

“Would y’look at that,” Joel laughed. “It’s rainin’ on us, baby. I think that means it’s good luck, right?”

You beamed at him, watching the raindrops catch onto his thick eyelashes. Crumpling the paper in your hand, you let it fall to the ground and composed yourself. Joel lifted his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Joel Miller,” you started. “I can say, without a doubt, I was always meant to be with you. From the moment I ran into you, literally—.” You laughed at yourself. “I knew it would always be you. Even when time and differences separated us, a part of me knew I was missing something. You and Sarah were the missing pieces that made me whole. And I’m so thankful that the universe conspired to bring us back together and lead me home. I vow to you, Joel, that every day will be filled with memories we remember.

I vow always to make you smile. I vow to always annoy you with my late-night conversations about books and poetry nonsense you most definitely have no interest in. I promise to stand beside you on the soccer fields, cheering on our girl through every win and loss. I vow to you, Joel Miller, to never leave and to always work through the hardest obstacles. Together.”

“I love you so much,” Joel whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You lifted a finger to wipe them away, your hand resting against his cheek. Joel sniffled back more cries, shaking out the rain clinging to his hair.

“Alright, guess I gotta try and beat that now,” Joel joked.

He crumpled his vows, the paper floating onto the wet ground where they melted into the rainfall. Joel barely managed to choke out your name before succumbing to tears all over again.

“Man, this is hard,” he huffed. “I ain’t sure how y’did all that without losin’ it, baby.”

“You’ll be just fine, Joel. I’m right here,” you assured.

He spoke your name again, this time only faltering at the end. You gave him an encouraging smile, your hand still caressing his face.

“I can’t tell you enough how lucky I am that you’re in my life,” Joel began. “I ain’t ever felt a love like this, and I ain’t ever wanna lose it. I’m not a many of many words, at least not where it counts, but havin’ you by my side makes every single day brighter. There ain’t no better happiness than seein’ your smile every day or seein’ you be the mother to Sarah that she always deserved.

Y’make me the proudest man alive, and I vow always to love you and care for you in every single way. I promise to read all the books y’read. I vow to remind you which cereal we buy at the grocery. I vow to stay truthful and always love you no matter how hard things may get. It’s you and me, baby. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. You got me ‘til I stop breathin’.”

You were the one crying the hardest now—a vow of all vows, spoken upon the altar that had always haunted you. One thing remained true in the weariness and uncertainty of the last several years: Joel was your steadfast. He was the constant that worked against the odds and continued to fight for a love you had since forgotten. Through the heartbreak, grief, and endless nights alone, you now had the one man the universe had created just for you.

I love you, you mouthed. You couldn’t trust yourself not to entirely wither into a heap of sobs as his vows sunk further into your heart.

“Now, if we may have the rings,” the officiant urged.

Tommy handed the ring to Joel while Sarah stepped forward to give you the wedding band you both had picked for her dad.

“Thank you, kiddo,” you whispered, bending down to hug her.

You and Joel repeated each word the officiant said, slipping the wedding bands onto each other's ring fingers. The rain was coming down harder now, pelting your face in wet splashes and rolling down your bare neck. Joel’s suit was soaked through, yet he didn’t care. Neither of you could stop smiling.

“With the power invested in me and the state of Texas, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Miller! You may now kiss your bride.”

“About damn time,” Joel snorted.

His hands swept under your shoulder blades, dipping you low as he bent to kiss you. The moment his wet lips touched yours, everything became a reality. Joel was your husband. You molded your body into his embrace, your arms winding around his neck. He kissed you recklessly as if no one else around you existed. And truthfully, the world could have collapsed around you, and you would never have known it. You wanted to remain in his arms for eternity.

This was your home. He was your everything.

The reception had drawn into the late hours of the night, and the buzz of a few drinks had your body relaxed and at ease. Whatever stress you had before the ceremony it had long since vanished, swept away with the rain as it continued to pour from the sky. The train of your dress was stained brown from the mud, yet you didn’t care. It was a memory of the day, and you wanted to keep it with you forever.

“One last dance?” Joel asked, extending a hand to you.

You rose from your seat, placing your hand in his. Somewhere during the night, Joel had discarded his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Seeing him this dressed up was far more dangerous than you expected; you craved to undo every button traveling down his torso and strip his tailored pants right from his muscular legs. But those tempting thoughts would have to wait till later.

Half the attendees had left for the night, leaving only your family members and a few friends still scattered around the ballroom. As Joel swayed your bodies to the music, you caught wind of an argument drifting through the music. Turning your head over your shoulder, you watched Beth and Tommy go toe to toe in a standoff.

“Do you think we should go calm them down?” You asked.

Joel glanced towards his brother and shrugged.

“M’sure they’ll sort their shit out, baby. Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me from enjoyin’ this night with you.”

“You’ve seen Beth when she’s angry,” you reminded him.

“And y’know how grumpy Tommy can get,” Joel countered. “They can handle themselves.”

You both moved to the music in silence; your eyes settled on one another as you spun in slow circles. Joel hooked a hand under your knee and dipped you, only to pull you up just as quickly to crush his lips to yours.

“When can I take y’home?” He muttered between kisses. “I’ve been dyin’ to take that dress off of you all night.”

“As soon as this song ends, I’m all yours,” you smiled.

Joel’s brown eyes darkened under the twinkling lights, and dimples appeared on his cheeks as he grinned at you.

“Baby, you’ve been mine from the start.”

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel x teacher!f!reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #tlou #joel miller tlou #tlou fic

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adventuringblind · 8 months ago

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Band-Aids are for Speed

Lando Norris x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Street Racer AU

Summary: The five times she patched Lando up, and the one time he patched up her.

Warnings: Injury descriptions, broken bones, cuts, bruises, blood, illigal street racing, car accidents

Notes: Author is not a doctor but has watched medical dramas... don't judge my knowledge!

Side Note: I hope le requester enjoys this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The first time she met Lando, he was siting in the emergency room waiting to be stitched up. She quietly hums to herself while setting up as the other nurse changes places with her.

The deep gash on his arm makes her wonder what he did to get it, but she also knows better then to ask. He doesn't look like he's in the mood to talk anyway.

It takes approximately three minutes for her to retract that statement. "So, you come here often?"

The question takes her so of guard that she doesn't know what to do with it aside from take the next few seconds to process. Is it not obvious that she works here?

"Do you mean the hospital? Or in this room specifically?" She laughs lightly at the ridiculousness of her patient and blames the minor blood loss.

"Nah, I mean in my presence." He smirks.

She tries to focus on her work. "Can't say I have."

"Would you like to be in it more?"

He gives her his number before he leaves. He dots the 'i' in his name with a heart.

She texts him the second she gets him to ask if he's bless her with his presence again.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

In the few months they've been seeing each other she's learned that Lando is obsessed with cars. It's cute when he jumps into excited rants about his favorite subject.

With the amount they've been talking, it's not shocking that Lando texts her in the evening. She assumes it'll be another silly joke. Instead she's met with frenzied sentences and misspelled words about need medical attention.

She doesn't hesitate to drive to his place. In hindsight, she really should've asked him why he didn't go to A&E when he's bleeding all over the bathroom floor.

"Please tell me you didn't get jumped." She kneels down and sets about getting him a position where she can see what she's doing.

He groans in pain as she moves him. "Nope! It was spectacular though."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I crashed the car but still won." He lets out a triumphant hoot.

This man can never give her all the details at one. "You got in a car accident?! How is that winning?!"

"Because I won the money... duh." He's definitely delirious now. Probably has a concussion. "Oh, I didn't tell you? I street race."

There's that strange part of her that is intrigued and curious to know more, specifically because that adds to his sex appeal (like he wasn't hot enough already). The logical side of her brain that is currently staring at Lando bleeding says otherwise. "Uh, no... you didn't."

"Well isn't that unfortunate! You coulda seen me crash today if you had."

Lando is half asleep by the time she is done. She's barely able to wrangle him into bed with how uncoordinated he is. It's useless keeping him awake.

She turns the lights off and is about to leave - "Will you stay?"

"I can, yeah, do you want me on the couch or is there another bedroom?"

"In bed with me. You can stay here - with me."

Against her better judgment, she does.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

She doesn't usually work the weekend shift but one of the nurses is on vacation and she could us the extra hours. She leaves her phone on vibrate in her pocket in case of a 'family emergency.'

Said emergency being Lando who is more accident prone on the weekends. Somehow, less accident prone in the car and more when he's doing normal people tasks.

Sometimes she wonders if her gets hurt on purpose just so he has an excuse to see her. She keeps telling him he doesn't need one - just in case - but he still calls and she goes. It's not like she has much else to do with her time aside.

She really shouldn't be shocked when he ends up in emergency clutching his arm. He gives her a bashful smile and tries to awkwardly wave. "Hi."

"And what, my love, are you in for this time?"

"I slipped on the stairs..."

Another male, a tall brunette who she knows as George, hits him playfully on the head. "No he did not! This idiot decided it would be a brilliant idea to tie a skateboard to the back of Alex's car and sit on it while Alex drove."

She throws a stern look at Lando and his smile goes from bashful to downright embarrassed. "You're lucky it's just you're arm."

By the time he's set free into the world to make more impulsive decisions, she makes the executive decision to make him wait until she's done working. He puts a pout on his lips, but it goes away when she sends him to the cafeteria.

They drive home listening to the indie station. The one he's made her fall in love with.

"Thank you, again."

"You've got to stop thanking me, Lan. It is literally my job." She laughs a little at herself for that one.

"Yeah, but, that's not all. You're the only person who doesn't freak out on me for doing stupid shit. Like I know I shouldn't do it but it gives me that adrenaline that racing does." The sincerity in his voice nearly takes her off guard.

"I can't tell what to do, but I'll always be there when you need a patch job."

"And I'll be there when you need a ride." He winks.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

The first time she's at one of Lando's races, she can feel the thrumming in her heart. The excitement of the start and the fear that he could possibly die doing this.

He jogs over to her right before the start. His hands clumsily find her waist and he smash his lips on hers. "For good luck." He whispers as he pulls away.

She doesn't let go, however. She pulls a band aide out of her pocket and sticks it to his hand. It's a crayon, but she highly doubts he'll care to much.

"What's this for?"

"I had a little girl today who told me that Band-Aids give you speed. I thought you might try it."

"When I win, it'll be all because of you."

Lando does win. She buys more Band-Aids with some of the prize money.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

She's there when the crash happens. The boys had deemed her the official medical personnel. Which she's glad for, since they are the ones getting her to the crash site. In record time - it has to be - she's sure she's never gone this fast before.

She dives out of the back of the truck to the driver side door. Lando sits there, a few visible cuts, but he's smiling at her. She has half a mind to give the boy an earful, but refrains since he did just crash.

It takes her, Alex, and George to get him out of the car and into the truck. She stitches him up before they go home. In her car, mind you, since the one Lando drove is out of order.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be - just - please remember that I can't fix every kind of injury."

They curl up in bed together. The long night having drained them both of their energy.

"Maybe, but at least my odds of surviving until my thirties have gone up with you around."

"At this rate, you're more likely to die doing dishes then driving."

"That was one time!"

♡♡♡♡♡♡

It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was supposed to go home, not end up back at her job.

Granted, she's here for a different reason now. One that's not her fault and she's pissed about it. She's going to explode with emotions. Her body hurts so much.

Fucking drunk drivers. Who gave them the right to say it's her fault? Telling her she's lucky it wasn't worse.

A soft knock at the door draws her attention. Lando stands there look mildly disheveled. Still, he has his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. "Whatever am I going to do with you, my love? Always getting into accidents!"

He comes to lay beside her on the bed and she wiggles to make accommodate him. He pulls out a box of bandages from his pocket and proceeds to put them everywhere she has a new mark.

The stress of it all finally breaks through. She sobs into his shoulder and clings to his sweatshirt. "Thank you."

"Hey, none of that. I owe you for all the Band-Aids you've used on me and all those times you've patched me up."

"Does this mean I can drive your car now? Since I have extra speed?"

Lando raises his eyebrows. "Maybe not drive, but I can think of other things we can do with speed." He wiggles said eyebrows suggestively.

"How about, a speedy recovery? You have plenty of those."

"Alright fine, a speedy recovery - and I'll be here for all of it with a plethora of crayon Band-Aids because I bought them all just for you."

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a-kind-of-merry-war · 6 months ago

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can you recommend your favourite queer historical/fantasy novels or series for me?? desperate for some new books to read 🙏

Anon I'm so mad, I had a couple of rec lists floating around but what do you know, tumblr has eaten them!! So I'm putting together a new one for you. I should pin this somewhere really.

Queer historical romances

Anything by Cat Sebastian. Seriously. Anything. My personal favourite series is "Seducing the Sedgwicks", and her two most recent 50s-set books are both exceptional.

Equally, anything by KJ Charles. Again, they're all brilliant, so it doesn't really matter where you start. I really liked Band Sinister.

Olivia Waite does lovely f/f historical romances. I really enjoyed The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics.

Sebastian Nothwell (hello @nothwell) writes brilliant historical romances (and also has a couple of fantasy romances too). Planning a re-read of some of his when I've actually got time 😅

Solomon's Crown by Natasha Siegel, loved this one a lot

The Gentleman's Book of Vices by Jess Everlee (there's a f/f sequel coming out soon!)

Queer fantasy romance

I am utterly obsessed with A Strange and Stubborn Endurance by Foz Meadows. I loved it. It's like it was crafted just for me. Also, the sequel just came out!

A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland, SO indulgent and tropey and fun, I had a blast reading it. (hello @ariaste). Also, Alexandra's next book is about to come out - it's called Running Close to the Wind and its about PIRATES. YES.

The Last Binding series by Freya Marske. Absolute best of the best. Everyone loves them.

(See also, Swordcrossed, also by Freya Marske, coming out later this year)

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh. Short, sweet, and engrossing. Finishing this book is like stepping into sunlight for the first time after being lost in the woods for hours.

Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. It's a classic for a reason.

Queer fantasy/sci-fi with romantic elements, but isn't a straight-up romance

Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune. I cried.

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree, extremely cosy domestic fantasy in the traditional D&D style, about an orc who sets up a coffee shop.

A Botanical Daughter by Noah Medlock. Frankenstein-style horror but with queer people and plants. More horror than fantasty, tbh.

Our Hideous Progeny by C E McGill (waving at @c-e-mcgill) is classic gothic horror/sci-fi, but this one is Frankenstein but with dinosaurs. And queer people. Very light background romance. Loved it.

OH WAIT ETA: What Manner of Man by @stjohnstarling - not sure if this fits your needs as its more horror romance than anything else, but its basically "dracula, but gay", and it's very good.

#ok im sure theres some ive missed but #TA-DA #hopefully theres some on here that are new to you!#queer books #books #book recs

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nerd-artist · 3 months ago

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Horizon Rock Bands AU: Alpha Prime

This is heavily inspired by the animated series Jem and The Holograms (I’m sorry if you know the reference because it means you’re as old as me 😆). There will be posts about other bands. Ereloy implied 🧡.

The band

Alpha Prime is a synth-punk rock band that performs songs about the struggles of social life and humanity's downfall. Aloy and her twin sister Beta started the band to take down Nemesis, the evil group that was winning every contest through dishonest ways before Alpha Prime showed up. Petra, Alva, Zo, and Talanah also had their own personal discordances with Nemesis, so they teamed up with the sisters to bring them down and make the world a little brighter with their music.

Unstoppable on stage, they've been number one since their first appearance at The Proving, the most prestigious battle of the bands in the music scene. There, they met the band Rock Breakers, who are not only their competitors but also great friends and allies against Nemesis.

With their manager Ersa, they’re getting ready for the competition by touring across the country. Their shows are called epic, thanks to their magical computer GAIA, which adds awesome visual effects and illusions to their performances.

Character profiles under the cut

Aloy

She's the leader of the band and their main songwriter. She plays her guitar ‘Outcast’, and her soft voice mixed with her feral screams make her the perfect backup vocalist. When she and her sister Beta were little, their mother disappeared, which shattered Aloy's trust in others. This caused her to become closed off, and now she struggles with social interactions. She seeks revenge on Tilda, the leader of Nemesis, because she suspects her of being involved in her mother's mysterious disappearance. When the weight of her mother's legacy and her own frustrations become too much to bear, she turns to her best friend Erend, the leader of Rock Breakers. Being by his side makes her feel more at home than anywhere else, sparking emotions she doesn't quite understand—emotions that end up fueling her songwriting.

Fans describe the soothing tone of her voice as healing, so it’s no surprise that she uses her ‘Fa’ mic to take on the role of the band’s lead vocalist. Always looking out for the other girls, it’s common to see her setting up meditation sessions before shows. As an environmentalist, she’s determined to take down Nemesis to stop the pollution caused by the companies owned by their members. She’s also (very) openly in a relationship with Varl, a member of Rock Breakers.

Beta

Even more isolated than her sister after their mother disappeared, she found solace in sci-fi movies and video games, completely avoiding social life. She’s a tech nerd who spends most of her time planning new shows with the computer GAIA. For her, forming Alpha Prime has meant gaining a new, bigger family that’s slowly helping her come out of her shell. Though she keeps a low profile, the deep beats of her bass, ‘Matrix,’ make the crowd feel the tremble and are essential to completing the band’s sound.

Talanah

Her cultural background made her believe all her life that guitars weren't meant for women—until she picked up "Khalis," the guitar passed down from her father, who was said to be the greatest guitarist under the sun. It felt like she had finally found herself. She made it her mission to become the best guitarist out there, regardless of gender—and she did. Now, she shreds alongside Aloy to take down Jiran, a member of Nemesis and the one responsible for her father's death.

Alva

CEO, a member of Nemesis, controls the town of Alva from a distance. Both he and his predecessors have erased music from existence there, repressing the creative minds of its inhabitants and keeping them submissive. Alva is determined to recover musical knowledge and bring it back to her people, across the world, along with her beloved Federa. With her keyboard 'Ancestor' in hand and performing alongside Aloy, she feels capable of freeing her people from the torment of living without music.

Petra

It's no coincidence that the crowd's cheers grow louder whenever Petra shows up. The power of the rhythms from her drums, 'Forge’s Breath,' combined with her strong personality and physique, make her a favorite, especially among women. She's an amazing musical engineer and has crafted all the band's instruments in their players needs. She's not here seeking justice or revenge; she's here to hit hard and push the rhythm of their songs to the max.

Thank you for reading! What do you think they would sound like?

If you want to know more about Rock Breakers check this post ✨🤘

#Horizon Rock Band AU #horizon forbidden west #aloy #zo #beta #talanah #alva #petra #ereloy AUgust 24 #this has gotten out of hand #someone save me #alpha prime #ereloy #aloy x erend #hfw fanart

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thegettingbyp2 · 8 months ago

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Ooooh I love your Jess Mariano stuff!!!! If you’re doing requests still would you do something with Jess crushing on a reader who’s in a rock band? (Going through my Jess era again and desperately need to replay my rockstar fantasies🥲) also A+ if there’s teasing from Luke, I wish people included him in fics more often bc their relationship is so…unique? Idk I love it thank you if you do xxxx

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Jess wanted to kick himself whenever you came into the Diner. You were a part of Lane’s band as a singer and Jess was pretty sure that he was in love with you. You came in and he’d lose the ability to act normally. He liked everything about you, from how pretty he thought you were to the clothes you’d wear even down to the fact that you’d order the same thing every single time. What made Jess’ crush on you even worse was the fact that Luke knew and Luke took every possible opportunity to tease Jess about it.

‘Your girlfriends here!’ Luke called through to the back when he saw you and Lane walk in and sit at your usual table, trying not to laugh as he watched Jess come rushing through, a scowl on his face.

‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ he said through clenched teeth. Luke just laughed in response before shoving a pad at his nephew.

‘Well, you can go and take her order and then who knows,’ he said with a wink.

‘No need,’ Jess muttered, throwing the pad back down on the counter and turning around to the coffee pot, pouring a cup of coffee before adding the perfect amount of milk and a spoon of sugar. He then put in an order of fries in the kitchen and picked up the coffee, making his way over to your table, all the while Luke was watching, surprised that Jess knew your order.

‘Your fries are on their way,’ he said, smirking at you as he set the coffee down on the table in front of you. You looked up at him and grinned, wrapping your hands around the mug and humming happily when you saw that it had already been made the way you liked.

‘You know, this might be a sign that we come here too often if you know my order,’ you teased and Jess swore he felt his heart skip a beat.

‘Come on, we all know you come here just to see me,’ he replied, winking at you despite the pounding in his chest. The peal of laughter that left your lips warmed Jess’ whole body up and he couldn’t help the sense of pride fill his chest at the fact that he was able to make you laugh.

‘Well, that is always a plus,’ you said and a moment of quiet washed over you both and it felt like you two were the only people in the diner as you looked at each other before Jess quickly snapped out of it, shaking his head lightly and leaning against the table slightly.

‘How’s the band going?’ he asked, clearing his throat as he changed the subject.

‘Good,’ you replied enthusiastically before you went off on a little bit of a tangent, talking to him about the latest rehearsal and any upcoming gigs you had. The whole time you were talking, Jess couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, he loved how passionate you were about your band and he was pretty sure he couldn’t listen to you talk about it forever.

However, you cut off when Luke came by to drop of your fries, clapping Jess on the shoulder. ‘Why don’t you see if you can join the band, Jess?’ Luke said, barely containing his laughter, ‘you’re always talking about the band.’

You tried to hide your laugh as you saw Jess turn red in front of your eyes before he uttered a goodbye and ran up the stairs to the apartment above the Diner. Turning back to Luke, you saw that he was bent over laughing. ‘Every time?’ you asked, starting to laugh lightly.

‘Every time until he finally asks you out,’ Luke replied, before refilling your coffee.

#jess mariano #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano x reader #gilmore girls

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alphabetboyluvr · 1 year ago

Text

masterlist

all fics are posted to wattpad first (don't judge a girlie by her primary upload platform </3)

i write about the stars, boys who are carved like greek sculptures, and the inability to communicate in a healthy, functional manner. and i also like to write about bangtan sonyeondan in relation to all of those things.

WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD

no translations | minors dni | don't be a dick x

JJK

SERIES

THROTTLE

pairing: boyracer!jk x fem reader - mutual disdain to lovers synopsis: in which jeon jungkook hates speed limits, the local government, and the way that min yoongi looks at you. current wc: 160,244 warnings: explicit language, drug usage, violence, dangerous driving, smut, and themes of an adult nature. not a mafia au, but teeters around the edges of it. organised crime and corruption are at the heart of the story. the characters have questionable morals and do dumb shit. be prepared to hate them as much as you love them. jungkook is a tittie luvr. no further questions.

BAD DECISIONS - link will take you to the clubdionysus tumblr!

pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb synopsis: it’s simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook’s ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you’ve a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you’ve both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions. current w/c: 450k notes: smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds 2024 note: wattpad took down bad decisions as part of their 2024 purge </3. it's now hosted on it's very own tumblr (clubdionysus) and over on ao3!

BAD DECISIONS SMUT INDEX

ONE SHOTS

extended - 5k words or more

ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRES

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader synopsis: your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out wordcount: 5.8K notes: angsty, smutty turmoil. it’s not that bad, but it definitely isn’t a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that’ll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

LANDSLIDES

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers) synopsis: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. wordcount: 6.8K warnings: fluff more than angst, but it’s not clean cut - there’s also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you’ve been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

something borrowed

- mafia au | forbidden love

dance with the devil

- royalty au | former lovers

KNJ

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

back to you

- idol au | exes

KSJ

MYG

SERIES

HUSH

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?) synopsis: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops ! current w/c: 17.5k notes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean… a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you’re jin’s sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he’s sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it’s cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!

PALLADIUM

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut synopsis: min yoongi is urgent. in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent. the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent. wordcount: 3.2K notes: three part series, fluff, angst, eventual smut, yoongi is incredibly conflicted, the oc is just as dumbfounded by the way she feels, lots of feelings!!

JHS

PJM

KTH

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

sundae (kinda love)

- childhood friends | angst

#bts fanfic #bts masterlist #byholly #jungkook fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook x reader

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 months ago

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Chemical Override - Submission Board

Hello, my darlings! I've received a lot of ideas and requests and queries about Chem Ov, so I'm making this post as a way to keep track of all of them.

Feel free to share in the comments or in my ask!

Once an idea has been submitted, I will add it here, to avoid repetition and to make sure that I am able to incorporate it into the story if it fits the narrative 💙

*random pictures included above, added cause they amuse me :)

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan and the reader thinking about living together - 🦜 anon

Reader adopting Benjicat who ends up preferring his mum, unlike Sansa - TheCatAnon

Ewan seeing an ad or film of the reader and sending her a picture along with a compliment - @seamaiden

Audience reactions to Ewan and Matt's game interview from Above The Gods Eye - ✨️ anon

Reader running to Ewan's aid when he gets injured on set, shoving past Matt - @ajantanijhum

Reader having a naughty dream about Ewan and Matt - anon

Ewan comforting reader when she's on her period - anon

Sansa sneaking into Reader's bag and ending up in HOTD set - TheCatAnon

Reader getting addicted to viral pastries from a Japanese bakery, influencing Ewan, who over-indulges his sweet tooth - @theintrovertedwriter868

Ewan watching (and adoring) Darling's interview on Hot Ones or another variety show - @just-fics-station

Ewan and Darling discussing marriage and babies - anon

Ewan and Darling do the Wired Autocomplete Interview / friendship test - @seamaiden

Matt or Ewan or both seeing Darling's lingerie campaign - anon

Ewan posting Darling's high fashion ad on his stories - 💌 anon

Hotd cast playing never have i ever, drunk edition, but prior to the game they all decided to target ewan and make all of the questions related to darling (e.g. "never have i ever made longing gazes at darling during interviews?") - anon

Darling gets cast for a music video. Matt visits her on set and he gets cast in an extra role as her lover - @just-fics-station

Darling is in a musical on the West End, playing a character who's dominant and confident (thinking of Heather Chandler) and Ewan goes to watch and is obsessed - Scottish anon

Darling meets Ewan's parents or vice versa - @clarkysblog

Ewan and the reader vacaying with the cast. Them sneaking off to make out. Ewan gawking at the reader behind his sunglasses - anon

Darling prank calls Ewan/Matt for Elle - anon

A famous celeb says that Darling is their celebrity crush and wants to work with her - anon

Darling wearing a 'revenge dress' for an event - anon

Darling taking the buzzfeed hotd character quiz and getting Aemond - @seamaiden

Ewan and darling sharing in each other's interests (eg. She wears one of his rock band shirts / she'll get him into horror movies, sci-fi, skincare) - anon

Darling doing an everything shower/extensive self-care routine and being so exhausted afterward that Matt or Ewan have to take care of her - 🦘

Darling posting a hot photo on Insta, attracting admirers and triggering boyfriend Ewan - @kammmy101

Ewan and the cast supporting Darling in her theatre debut - 💌 anon

Ewan having Darling as his lockscreen and she finds out - anon

An interview flirting with Darling, and Ewan trying not to get riled up - anon

Darling and Jenna becoming best friends - ✨️ anon

#chemical override #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell fanfic

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penvisions · 6 months ago

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zest {chapter 1}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Changes are sudden, lifestyles are altered, and important questions bubble up but through it all, you have Joel by your side.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: canon typical language, c'mon reader and joel have potty mouths, age gap (joel is mid 40’s / reader is late 20’s -early 30’s, protective joel, reader is canonically midsize, pregnant reader, surprise pregnancy, reader goes through nicotine withdrawal, smoking, cigarettes, nicotine use, lots of feelings, lots of emotions, complicated family dynamic, reader has family issues, death of a loved one, mention of life-threatening cancer, reader has religious guilt, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, reader canonically has an eating disorder, mentions of therapy, references to time apart from each other, adult content, smut, piv, unprotected piv be safe y'all!), talk of marriage, adult conversations, joel and reader are down bad for each other.

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: THEY'RE BACK, BABY! ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || masterlist || ko-fi

It’s the perfect spring day: sun shining in a warm but not hot brightness, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as you zip past them, an iced coffee, and the singing figure of Ellie in the passenger seat all make the first half of the day melt away. The amber of your sunglasses allows for everything to be swathed in the honeyed hue and you smile to yourself as you recall a rather heated comment from Joel ‘that every goddamn show feels so creative ‘n artsy when they slap the same tones over Mexico’ and then a softer set of words as he had cuddled closer to you on the couch ‘it’s not really like that, I’ve been there, darlin’, trust me’.

“What’re you all gooey lookin’ for, Sabrosa?” Ellie pauses to catch her breath between songs from the newest pop punk album from a band you first enjoyed in your teenage years. Unable to resist the temptation of adding it to your already laden down basket at the bookstore last week when you and the young girl had ditched Joel to run errands. “Ew, gross, don’t think about my dad while I’m sitting right next to you.”

“Oh hush,” You stuck your tongue out at her. Getting a kick out of how casually she sounded. It hadn’t ever been awkward between you two, or her and Sarah despite the six or so years between your birthdays. But then again, Sarah had let you into the secret of the older guy she had started seeing in her graduate program the last time she had been in town visiting… “It’s nothing dirty, just one of his many rants about my choice in television.”

“Lemme guess….oh! The washed-out way they show Mexico, huh? Cause you were watching…oh fuck, what’s that show called…”

“Breaking Bad.” Was the supplied answer from your lips as you turned on the turn signal and began to slow down to turn into the parking lot for the restaurant. It wasn’t operating hours quite yet, too early yet for the dinner crowd Joel preferred to cater to. But Ellie had a shift, and you were dropping her off after classes. She wasn’t in either of the ones you teach, having completed the two semester course you had started off with. But you both had a class that ended around the same time, living so close to the university, she liked being able to walk but then catch a ride with you. Tradition, the word rang in your head. Routine, followed it and you smiled wider at the way your life had fleshed out.

“That’s the one!” She exclaimed as she unbuckled the seatbelt and leaned back in her chair. “Man, I really don’t have the energy for work today, but the old man said we have a full reservation list and then open seating at the bar.”

“Gonna be that way for a while, the article about him came out only two months ago. Everyone’s clamoring for a chance to try the ‘bursting flavors’ and ‘exciting combinations’ of the renowned Chef Joel Miller.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s hot shit right now, at least the restaurant is.” Reaching for her coffee in an imitation of you, she sipped at the whip cream, caramel whatever it is she had gotten. Coffee wasn’t her favorite, so she always got the espresso taken out, a glorified milkshake Joel had teased her once. “Proud of him, though. The restaurant was in shambles when he bought it from the previous owners, some shitty Italian place that never cleaned anything.”

“He’s done good.” You quietly agree, sipping from your own overly complicated drink. That was another tradition of yours and hers, to make your way through the menu at the coffee shops on campus, always pausing to get the special of the month. Joel claimed he didn’t understand the need for so much stuff mixed in with coffee, but you caught him stealing sips of yours if he were to come across it unattended around the house or when you were out and about with him and treated yourself.

“There’s my girls.” Joel chimes as you input your code into the gate for the employee parking and round the side of the building. His voice filtering in through the open windows as you pull into a spot and cut the engine. He’s leaned against the back of the building, cigarette in hand. “Was wondering what took you so long.”

“Accident on the main road, had to detour.” You appease as he approaches to open the door for you and pressed a greeting kiss to your cheek as you roll up the windows. He does the same for Ellie as she sidles up beside him for a side hug before trotting off to the door and disappearing through it. He let’s you pluck the lit cigarette from his fingers as you shoulder your bag and close the door. His hand goes around your waist to walk alongside you toward the building.

“As long as you two are safe, that’s all that matters. Today’s special is spaghetti all nerano, wanna do some grading here and try a plate?” He takes the smoking roll back from your offered hand and takes the last drag before tossing it into the pale beside the door. Opening it and leading you through it with a hand hovering over your lower back.

“That sounds yummy, I’m starving.” You toss him a smile over your shoulder before greeting everyone with a wave.

It’s well into the third hour of service and you never got the chance to leave once the doors opened. The bar had been struggling, Millie having taken over as manager and Mary trying to appease the picky impatient customers who all want a taste of the raved over menu and a glimpse at the alluring Chef Miller.

Picking up a shaker and twisting a bottle of vodka in your grip, you glance at the ticket that just printed and adjust the amount you free pour into it. Mary had been looked so guilty as she approached you’re the table where you do your work on a regular basis, the question of if you were willing to help out getting drinks started for those waiting on tables barely out of her mouth before you were nodding and cleaning up your stuff. It was now safely tucked away in the office and you were moving at a fast pace behind the bar to keep up with everything. Millie stepped down to let you take the reigns, knowing she would only get in your way. Ellie could be seen picking up and dropping off glasses at the well as often as Millie as she acted as barback.

The restaurant was buzzing, excited conversation and pleasant atmosphere making you remember the tingling high of getting off from a busy shift with a wad of cash tucked into your pocket. Just as you place a strainer over the shaker and begin to pour the contents over six shot glasses the door to the kitchen swings open and Joel walks through. You’re too busy, so you shift the chilled shots to the mat over the well and place the corresponding tickets beside them. Moving onto the next drink, you rinse out the shaker with the star sink in place.

His eyes catch yours through the crowd of people when you look up as Ellie comes up to take the shots and then watching as she delivers them, the sound of the shaker loud in your ear as you hold it over your head. His steps don’t falter as he approaches the table, he was delivering the plate to, but you could see something flash over his face. He’s back behind the door as you move to lodge the shaker open.

The night goes by quickly, taking orders for those lucky enough to snag a spot at the bar but hadn’t been able to make a reservation. Shoving each cash tip into a pint glass for the girls and even taking a few business cards from people interested in hosting parties in the space. You’ll be sure to pass those along to Mary, even if some of them requested you as the bartender. You didn’t mind, missing the atmosphere and good moments you had experienced in the setting. Ellie is taking back the remaining dishes from the last few tables, Millie is out back smoking after helping to clean up the bar top when Joel ambles from the kitchen once again.

He's got his chef’s coat unbuttoned and loose around the shirt underneath, the glint of his belt buckle catching the fairy lights around the bar. His steel curls are slicked back, but you could see the frizz and fluffiness where they rested over the back of his neck. He had been saying he needed a haircut, but you had made a sound in the back of your throat that made him put it off.

His eyes are trained on you as you move the trash cans full of empty bottles to line up beside the drink pick up area. You’re about to return behind the bar with a wink thrown over your shoulder when he snakes his hands around your waist and pulls you to him. He smells amazing, the perfect mix of savory spices, smoke, and Joel.

“Playin’ restaurant, huh? Thought you went home and passed out.” He leans down to kiss your jawline.

“Nah, Mary asked for my help when Millie got swamped.” You breath out, hands coming up to rest on his chest and push should he get a little too enthusiastic in you still being here.

“Not your responsibility.” His eyes hold no real heat or command, you know it’s born from a place of worry, of not wanting you to stretch yourself too thin.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t mind.” You cradle his cheek in one hand and play with the collar of his open coat with the other. His eyes glance down, the glitter from your lotion catching the light on your neck and chest.

“Hmm, you looked good. Dress looks good on you, shakin’ those drinks and-“

“Dad, holy crap, it was so busy tonight. Some dude tipped me like fifty percent because he was trying to impress his date!” Ellie plops down on a stool with her server’s book. She doesn’t even look up from where she begins to go over the receipts. “Wait until everyone leaves to start doing that or better yet, wait until you’re home to do that.”

“One day you’re gonna meet someone and it’s gonna be hard to keep your hands to yourself.” You only giggle at the typical parent response from Joel. Ellie wasn’t a touchy-feely person, but you were sure she would be with the right person, you’d seen her flirty interactions with girls while out with you and your friends, tagging along for the free drinks and to have safe company. She was pretty smooth if she didn’t get into her head too much, soft touches to shoulders and waists, though she steadfastly refused to dance. With anyone, no matter the setting.

“Gross,” She begins to fill out the printed shift report before organizing the receipts in order and then asks you for the stapler. Detangling yourself from the man, you do make it back behind the bar. That’s when she notices the pint glass. “Holy shit! You made all that?”

“Huh? Oh, no. The restaurant did. Here.” You hand the wad of bills over to Joel. With your own shift report and stapled receipts. He uses two nimble fingers to extract the shift report but leaves the cash in your hand. Frowning, you track the report as it’s tucked into his back pocket along with Ellie’s. Her own cash tips secure in her booklet.

“Also gonna see about getting some of the petty cash from the safe for the hours you worked.” He begins to take the full bags from the trash cans, tying the ends together tight.

“Joel.”

“You worked, you get paid.” He doesn’t look up as he reaches into the bottom for the rolls sitting inside and begins to place new ones over the lips of the plastic.

“I’m your girlfriend. Who used to work here. I was just helping out.”

“Nope, not gonna fly, darlin’. It’s yours.” He slides the empties cans back around the bar for you to put back in their designated places.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.” Ellie reaches for it and you let her swipe it from your hand. Only for Joel to set her with a look. “Oooor not.” She says as she puts it down atop the clean bar top.

“Joel!”

“Can’t hear you, Sabrosa, gotta make sure the kitchen duties were done.”

“Seriously, I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” You quirk an eyebrow at the younger girl, but Millie bounces up and says everyone was going out for a bite at the taco truck parked a few blocks down. They have a spot in a lot that has picnic tables and offer late night service. Ellie takes off, ensuring you she’ll text either you or Joel when she’s back at the townhouse afterwards. She’d been staying the second bedroom there more and more, as you found yourself splitting your time pretty evenly between it and Joel’s. He would join you sometimes, but certain nights either you needed you own space or he did and that was okay.

Sighing, you lock the patron door behind her and turn the sign from open to closed.

As you’re double checking everything is shut down properly, you open the washer to let the last load of glasses air dry, the steam billowing out. Turning when you hear the swing of the kitchen door again, Joel has his chef’s coat tossed over his shoulder and his backpack over the other. His eyes zone in on the cash and then a smirk takes over his face. You turn your attention back to the washer and ensure it’s off before you round the bar top and makes sure it was swept underneath the stools. You’re about to ask him which car you were gonna take home when you spot a crumpled napkin you must’ve missed.

As you bend down to pick it up, you feel thick fingers sneak beneath the skirt of your dress. You don’t think anything of it until you feel Joel tuck a bill from the stack into the band of your panties. Knuckles grazing against your slit as he moves to the other hip and does the same. You shoot up, the napkin forgotten as you try to turn around.

“Nu-uh,” His palms come to rest on your lower back and shoulders, bending you over one of the stools as the heat of his body looms close. He whispers something about having to scrub the video cameras set up around the dining room before you hear the clink of his belt being undone and feel him move your panties to the side. You throb at the feel of the cooler air circulating around the room, a gasp leaving your lips as he gently runs the head of his cock over your folds, arousal from you both making it such a smooth motion.

As he reaches over your back for something, he fills you up, the stretch of his girth feeling like a reward for the hectic shift completed. But you know the night would’ve ended like this either way.

A moan rips from your chest as he grabs a hold of whatever he had been trying to get, hips flush with yours. He chuckles, pleased with himself before his hands sneak around to cup your breasts as they threaten to spill out from your dress at the prone position. His fingers tuck more bills into your underwear, beneath the straps over your shoulders, into the already full cups to peak out over the swell of your chest. He even tucks one into the mess of your hair thrown up into a clip at the back of your head before his hands secure around your waist and he begins to thrust.

That’s the last memory you have of both smoking and drinking, only a few days before you had anxiously waited for a piece of plastic to tell you your fate. It was now a month since finding out, Joel making sure to go with you to get confirming bloodwork and a full physical. The headaches from missing both finally having abated. Joel on the other hand, he was sneaking cigarettes, you could smell the lingering smoke on him when would come home and you were still up. It didn’t really bother you, knowing he indulged for far longer than you had in the bad habit. But you missed the social aspect of the act, of seeking out the designated spots around campus and chatting, of sitting out on the back patio with Tommy as he enjoyed one on the evenings he stopped by with his own little family for dinner.

But it was all worth it, you mused as you poured yourself a cup of steaming water into what was once your coffee mug. Tea was something you indulged in now, the cupboard filled with the different types you were trying to work your way through to see what would help with the onslaught of nausea and also appealed to your tastebuds. You preferred the fruity ones, just like you did with your cocktails, hence the nickname Ellie had graced you with that stuck.

Jingling keys and heavy footsteps signaled you to Joel’s return, the sun still shining on the calm afternoon. He had been gone when you showed up at his house, a cookout planned for the day. Tommy and Maria had been here an hour, the grill just about ready for the first of many things to be cooked and the pool was sparkling as it awaited the arrival of Sarah and Ellie. You had spent the morning cleaning it of debris and adding a few treatment drops. The whole family getting together. It was good, it was a good feeling being surrounded by them all. You and Maria hitting it off even more over the news of what was to come. Her own child now nearing two, she had given birth while you and Joel were split. But you had sent a care package and visited her in the hospital with her favorite takeout.

It was so domestic, so full a life…it made you wonder why you hadn’t been able to experience it as a child yourself.

“Missed ya, darlin’.” Joel steps up behind you and embraces you. Kissing your temple, you feel the frown mar his lips as you don’t respond. “Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” You mumble, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his chest. He smells like cinnamon and the grill brick he used while closing up the restaurant after a brunch shift and you breathe him in as you press your face into his broad chest.

“Gotta shower, wanna join me?’

“The girls will be here soon.” You hold him tighter, missing your own family even if it had never been the same as his own. Dinner once a month with your own father, no visits offered or initiated, grandparents raising you since you were young. A mother who had passed early due to complications from cancer she hadn’t known she had until she was pregnant with you herself. “Wanna make sure everything is ready for them.”

He peppers kisses into your hair before pulling away and disappearing upstairs.

The afternoon continues, the smell of grilling meat and roasting vegetables lilting into the air alongside ruckus laughter and bad jokes. Everyone is comfortable around the patio and the in the pool, food served and consumed. Just a few bites left of everything, Joel ensuring you that he would heed your cravings and what you felt like you could stomach, not worried about leftovers lately.

“So when do we get to meet the rest of the Sabrosa clan?” Tommy askes around the lip of his beer bottle. He’s across from you at the table, Joel off by the grill as he messes with something he hadn’t let you sneak a peak at.

“Oh, um…you don’t?” Caught off guard, the bite of food falls from your plastic fork frozen halfway to your mouth.

“No siblings or nothin?”

“Um, well-“ Clearing your throat you take the bite and chew it contemplatively. Honesty or the thinly veiled truth? Your mind is working hard, something Maria must hear in her seat beside you at the patio table. She shoots Tommy a look you catch out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep calm so the child in dozing in her arms doesn’t stir. “I’ve got two half-siblings, but we don’t keep in contact much.”

“They gonna be at the wedding?”

“What wedding?” “Oh my god, dad! You proposed and didn’t tell us!” Ellie and Sarah holler from where they’re in the pool, one of them resting on a floating device and the other is practicing her laps to get more comfortable in the water. Joel turns from where he was ensuring the grill was off and brings over the s’mores dip he had just let melt to perfection. Your stomach rumbles at the sight of the gooey swirl of marshmallow and dark chocolate, of the rye biscuits he must’ve whipped up at work steaming beside it in a single use tin. Set up with a divider in the middle.

“Haven’t proposed to ‘er yet, quit it.” He sits it down atop a trivet, but no one makes a move to reach for it until he gives the go ahead. But he doesn’t until he’s got one of the dark biscuits covered in the dip and set in front of you. Then it was fair game as the girls begin to swim across the length of the pool, or well Sarah tries to glide her floaty across while Ellie does. Tommy readies one for Maria before making his own, quirking an eyebrow at you as he watches the pull of the dip.

“But your dad is gonna walk you down the aisle, right?” Tommy presses on, not catching onto the awkward way you were shifting in your seat or how you had placed your fork down to rest on the edge of your paper plate. The dessert untouched. But you don’t get to think of an answer before one is flying from your emotionless face.

“Can’t, he’s dead.”

Silence falls over the once happy and jovial backyard, the splash of Sarah slipping from her floating longue echoing.

“Tommy.” Joel’s voice is firm as he pins his brother with a mild glare. Maria is equally unpleased with her husband’s penchant for talking without thinking, not reading the room. He yelps as she kicks his shin underneath the table.

“It’s okay, wasn’t much of a father when he was alive anyway.” You reach for the mocktail you had made a pitcher of for you and the girls to enjoy. No one says anything as you pour yourself another and take a sip from it. Not liking the tension that had crept into the atmosphere, you gather up your nearly empty plate and stack it atop Maria’s to take inside, making more room for the messy dessert. Slinking away, you feel Maria reach out a hand to trail down your arm, comforting you before you’re gone back into the house.

“You dumbfuck.” Ellie mutters under her breath, earning a glare from Joel over his shoulder for her language. But he doesn’t disagree. You do, but it wasn’t his fault. How was Tommy supposed to know he had picked the one subject you had nothing good to say about?

“Shit, I- holy shit.” Tommy’s voice follows you before he yelps a second time as Joel brandishes the still warm tongs from serving biscuits.

“Way to shove your foot in your mouth, we were havin’ a good time.”

“I didn’t know! I thought she was just quiet about her family not that she didn’t have any.”

“Tommy, you’re the father of my child and my husband but you are seriously so stupid sometimes.”

“Dad, she-she doesn’t have any family?” Sarah is tearing up, affected by the sudden realization of why you never brought anyone around except for a friend every once in a while. She could understand not having a mother, as her own was so distant, only showing up when she needed something or felt lonely in the life she created for herself. But to not have a dad? That was all she knew and she couldn’t fathom how her life would have been without him in it;.

“She’s got us, baby girl.” Joel goes to run a hand over her shoulder and press a kiss to the fluff of her kinky curls as she stands beside the pool set into the ground outside the patio. He wraps the towel she brought out around her and rubs it across her shoulders before lifting his hands. “We’re her family, pretty good deal, huh?”

“Dad….”

“She’ll be okay, I promise.”

The laid back vibe from the afternoon returns once everyone piles into the living room to watch the season finale of an admittedly awful reality tv show. But everyone was hooked and harmless bets were made on who would cause the most drama and how things would end. You’re a little subdued, but you make comments along with everyone else and laugh at the absurdity of what happens on the screen.

Stepping out of the bath you had decided to soak in, you startle when you see Joel sat on the small bench in the master bathroom across from the vanity as you pull back the shower curtain. He’s already changed into his sleep pants, his freckled and bronzed chest on display through the steam.

“Darlin’, why didn’t you tell me your dad was passed?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” You stand in front of him, taking in the way he watches you through the mirror as you press a bead of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and wet it before popping it into your mouth. A heavy silence fills the room, tangling with the rose scented steam from the bubble bar you had used. The pink water swirling down the sink a near silent hum.

“It-uh, kinda does. Makes me feel…like a whole wedding would be…”

“You don’t have to ask me. We don’t have to get married if it’s going to be a problem.” Shoving down the worries and residual guilt of being raised in a certain religious culture at the thought of having a child out of wedlock, having a child as a single woman you catch the man’s gaze through the mirror. The burn of embarrassment simmers beneath your skin, shame for feeling such embarrassment sparkling behind it, creating a swirl of emotions you hadn’t wanted to feel this close to bed with an early class. You want to marry him, to experience that with him, to live life together as husband and wife, but it feels perfunctory when you didn’t even believe in the reasoning behind why you felt that way. He’s frowning, his brows knit close together, something off in the depths of his brown eyes.

“It’s not a problem…right?” You see the worry flickering through him, in the way his eyes shift and the way he clenches his fists in his lap. “I just…you know you’re a part of the Millers. Have been since the moment you caught my attention, but baby…I don’t want you to feel lonely if it’s my family and your friends.”

“Are you insinuating because I don’t have a family of my own, I’m somehow missing something?” Anger flared hot and sticky in you, washing out the embarrassment. The heat from your bath making it so much worse and you cross the room to pull the door open. Back at the vanity, you ignore his gaze and rinse out your mouth before moving on to clean and moisturize your face. He’s quiet behind you, knowing he phrased his sentiment wrong and this…this communication was new for you both. Still hard sometimes as you both realize how deep some things run and how different you could be.

“You know I’m not.” The gaze he has trained on you reminds you of the way he would watch you through the kitchen, tensions high as you both couldn’t seem to get your heads out of the dirt and just be honest with each other. A time that had passed, allowing for the present to bloom.

“Then a wedding wouldn’t be a problem. But it’s kind of moot, you haven’t proposed.” You don’t anticipate the slight edge to the words as they leave your lips, but they slice through the air. You feel shame overtake the waning anger, making your face hot underneath your massaging hands. The burn of tears threaten to ruin the routine you just completed and you hiccup as your hands flatten atop the vanity, head hanging between your shoulders. You do not like this, but you have no idea where it’s coming from. It really doesn’t bother you that he hasn’t asked. You know he has the intention to, the agreement of a visit to town hall and then a small party to celebrate. Nothing fancy, nothing crazy, simple.

“Hey,” He whispers as he comes up behind you, hands resting over the quick beating of your heart, his naked chest pressed to your back, the damp towel the only thing separating you. But you can feel his own heart between your shoulder blades, strong and sturdy. Grounding you in the way you had explained you preferred when overwhelmed. “I promise I wasn’t trying to upset you, just want you to be comfortable, to have everything you deserve.”

You let him help you to dry off the rest of your body, lotion lovingly applied to your body by his hands before you slip into a nightgown and slip between the sheets beside him. You kiss an apology to his lips, needing him to know that it was just initial panic and not the real way you thought or felt. He accepts it and offers one of his own, lips pressed to your chest, right over your heart before sleep takes ahold of you both.

“I said don’t.” You warned, no humor in your voice. You had tried and failed to put on every one of your pairs of pants, jeans, leggings, and none of them were comfortable. None of them zipped, buttoned, or stretched enough underneath the slight bump that had seemingly blossomed overnight. Joel was sprawled on the bed, working his way to getting up at the late hour. He had been at the restaurant late, later than usual as they had a party stay well after service hours. He had let the staff go on time, ensuring they would get the tip out but not wanting them to have to stay once all the cleaning and side work was done. One of the many things you adored about the man, his willingness to heed situations like that in favor of his staff even if he was gruff and to the point most of the day.

“Didn’t say nothin’, darlin’.” He rumbled from beneath the sheets, tan skin looking deliciously golden paired with the pale pink set you had insisted changing from the white that had previously been curled around the mattress. You had woken up with bad cramps last month, terrified something had happened as you pulled back the covers to find blood spotting the pristine fabric. A quick trip the emergency room as he shared in your panic, albeit in a more controlled way, assured you that spotting was normal during the early months of pregnancy.

“Dress...” You muttered to yourself, hand cradling around the small bump. Joel only hummed, stretching out to alleviate his sore body, thick legs appeared from beneath the fabric. Your eyes traced the long lines of his body through the mirror atop the dresser, drinking in the sight of him and your body began to thrum with arousal. When your eyes roved up the expanse of his broad chest dusted with dark hair to his face, he was smirking at you with an eyebrow arched in a silent question of how long you would ignore his deliberate departure from the bed.

You had all but jumped him when he got home last night, papers you were grading scattered all around you on the couch and coffee table, a Josh Gates show on the television for moral encouragement. He had teased you once about your affinity for the man but you had clapped back with his borderline obsession with Anthony Bourdain, to which he simply said ‘can’t help it darlin’, the man knew his shit’.

The dinner he had brought home had been tossed to the entry way table, as you knelt down to help remove him from his shoes and pants. Mouthing at the line of him through his boxer briefs before he could even get his keys hooked on the mirror over the table. He had been prepared to find you fast asleep, a different kind of tired taking hold of you more and more, almost demanding naps during the day when you got home from campus and right before dinner if you hadn’t worked. But you had sprung up from your spot and welcomed him home, the food forgotten in favor of getting your fill of the man that had been consuming your thoughts. The thought makes his cock fill, twitching underneath the sheets as he recalls your enthusiasm.

He sees the way your eyes dilate at the movement, the hush of his hand skimming down to grip himself.

Suddenly, you’re no longer debating over the clothing flowing from the draws inside the closet or those of the dresser. You peeled the pants you had been fruitlessly trying to zip up and nearly threw yourself at him. He greedily accepts your frantic kisses, starting from his shins and all the way up neck to finally connect with his own. He groans at the taste of coffee you had allowed yourself this morning, his own cup still steaming on the bedside table. His glasses beside it, his cellphone lighting up only to be ignored.

“Does mama need some attention?” He breathes into your open mouth, large palms caressing the exposed skin of your hips. His hands graze your middle, and you shy away from him, self-conscious of the extra jiggle, the stretchmarks from rapid weight fluctuation of your years now accommodating the swell of the beginning signs of the life you two had created together. “Hey, no, c’mere.”

You’re sure he sees the flicker of emotions across your face before you school it into a cool arch of your brow, the playful smirk of your lips. Falling back on bravado that wanes far too quickly these days as your hormones ping pong all over the place. You were just as apt to burst into silent tears as you were to jump him, confusing for you and devasting for him as he tries to read your moods as well as he can. He was hoping to dislodge the habit of you seeking refuge in the townhouse you had gifted Ellie, her own budding relationship prompting her to ask for her own space just as the new stage of your life became known to them. Equal parts of respect for the more tender and tense moments sure to happen and yearning for her own space again.

“Mama needs some new clothes, wanna spoil me?” Your voice is a confident hush, hands reaching forward to urge him to shift closer, both of you on your sides and facing each other.

“Do anythin’ for you, darlin’, you know that.” His teeth sunk into the curve of your neck, tugging you back to him. That seemed to get you to forget your insecurities as he felt you pull him closer, your smaller hands so soft on his chest as they caressed his skin.

“I think I wanna go to that fancy mall, maybe get some pretty underwear that won’t make me feel like a total loser.”

“I’ll take ya anywhere you want, maybe even that big shopping center in Dallas? It’ll be just like the trip we took to Arizona. Could get a hotel, see the sights and just relax. Hear they have a mac and cheese restaurant in the arts district.” He rolls to pin you down, and you move to allow him space between your legs instinctually. Body hovering over yours as he kisses down your neck, your chest, he lets his words sink in. The bralette you had put on doing nothing to hide the perk of your nipples. He laps at them through the thin fabric, delighting in the way it makes you arch up into him. You were so sensitive to his touch lately, your body on high alert as your hormones fluctuate erratically.

“That’s a lot, Joel. Shouldn’t we-“ Your hesitant words are cut off by a searing kiss, the press of his skin against yours making it hard to keep your train of thought.

“We should do what we want, darlin’. Wanna get everything sorted to go this weekend?”

Tears are suddenly pitter pattering over the sheets, darkening the fabric where they land after rolling down the sides of your face. He pushes his weight from where it pressed you to the bed, back on your sides and you let him, unable to stem the tears.

“Oh hey, hey it’s okay,” Joel crowds close, the thin fabric separating your bodies as you bury your face in his neck and curl your legs up, knees pressing into his stomach. Hiccups startle you both as you find it suddenly hard to breath through the onslaught of emotions spiking. “Hey now, darlin’, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” You mumble into his skin, embarrassment flaring up hot in your cheeks and chest. You feel so silly, pulled in too many directions in so quick a succession. “I just…you’re so hot and I’m all bloated and my skin feels all tight and I really want some ice cream.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re happily spooning a sundae into your mouth with a red plastic spoon in the passenger seat of his truck. All the tears and frustration gone from you as you held tight to the treat in your hands with far too many flimsy napkins. He’s got a cigarette dangling from the hand he rests on the inside of the door, trying to keep as much smoke from wafting back into the cab as possible. Errands, today was an errand day and you smiled over at him. Pairs of sunglasses meeting, eyes hidden beneath them. He just leans over to press a kiss to your temple, not wanting to disrupt your enjoyment of the ice cream you literally cried over.

next chapter

taglist: @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute @sarap-77 @koshkaj-blog @corazondebeskar-reads @ozarkthedog @littlemisspascal @endlessthxxghts @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @sawymredfox @cumberpegg @grandanchorkitten @noisynightmarepoetry

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steviestits · 3 months ago

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My God Longs For Me - Part 1.3

Written for an anon prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic’s masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: T (E for later chapters) Summary: When Steve was a child, he was abducted and brought to the cult, the Hellfire Club, as he was prophesied to be the wife of the dark forest god they worshiped. Steve enjoyed his time there, especially the time he spent with the cult leader's nephew, Eddie. This wasn't meant to last however as Steve was eventually returned to his parents. Thanks to the deprogrammer that his parents hired and time, Steve has mostly forgotten the cult that raised him. That is until he goes on a camping trip and his friends start to get murdered one by one with the only connection between the killings being the ritual offerings to the cult's gods and the strange dreams Steve has before each one. Now Steve must piece together his past to discover who is murdering his friends in the present. (Inspired heavily by various horror movies and is a horror story itself.) Trigger Warning: None Eventual Trigger Warning: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Ritual Sacrifices, Gore, Mpreg, Body Horror, Monster Fucking, Feminization, Brainwashing

(Link to previous part)

Entering the bar, Steve looked around at the shabby wooden walls and cracked floorboards until his eyes landed on Billy and Tommy drunkenly playing pool. Steve tried to catch their eye and even called out to them, but they ignored him. The pool tables were situated on the furthest wall away from the bar, thankfully, but it did have a dingy yet still functional mirror hung up between the bottled of high-shelf (for this establishment anyway) alcohol, so there was no way they couldn’t see him no matter the angle. He took this to mean that they were actively ignoring him, and he honestly wished his dad had selected better friends for him.

“What a bunch of mouth-breathers,” the bartender said with a disappointed shake of his head.

Objectively good-looking, the bartender had long, dark brown curls that cascaded down his back, framing his lean face to make his chocolate brown eyes pop. A tight t-shirt with the logo of a band that Steve didn’t recognize was stretched across the man’s lean body, displaying every single one of his compact muscles. He wasn’t a name tag, but it wasn’t as Steve needed the other’s name as they wouldn’t be staying much longer in the bar anyway.

Steve strode over to the bar, leaning against the wooden counter with one elbow. The other man didn’t seem to mind and instead grabbed a rag to begin cleaning a few shot glasses in front of him. He didn’t say anything but continued to keep an eye on Billy and Tommy, glowering sourly at the pair as if expecting them to cause trouble.

“If they break anything, I’ll pay for it,” Steve offered sincerely.

“Why are you even friends with them? If you don’t mind me asking, because they seem like more trouble than they’re worth.”

“My dad picked them out for me, believe it or not. It’d be good for the company, is what he said. Improve our investments.”

“Your daddy picked them out? Seriously?” The bartender snorted. “Starting to think those ids they showed me were fake. Aren’t you all grown men?”

“Listen, man, I know. But you don’t know my dad. He can make your life a living Hell if he really sets his mind to it. Easier to just do what he asks.”

“You do something to piss him off then? Only reason I can think of that he’d let you and your friends camp out in these cursed woods.”

“He didn’t pick the location. My friend did. But what do you mean by cursed?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “You’re going camping out there, and you don’t even know the story of Hawkins Woods?”

“It’s not like it matters. Curses aren’t real.”

“Isn’t that what everyone in a horror movie says right before they’re killed by the curse they were warned about?”

“That’s in the movies. This is real life.”

With a chuckle, the bartender asked, “Isn’t that what they say in the movies too, though?”

“Fine. Fair enough,” Steve relented. “What’s the story behind Hawkins Woods?”

“Well, you see, it started a few decades ago when the Hellfire Club built a commune just a few miles from here. People began disappearing when they went into the woods, and the ones that didn’t swore that they’d seen a horned being right out of the corner of their eye. They said it was the pagan god that the cult worshiped. Well, the police eventually cracked down on Hellfire, broke the whole thing up, but it only got worse. Instead of disappearances, people were dying, bodies mutilated beyond recognition. Thus, everyone in these parts believe that the Hellfire Club put a curse on these woods and that their god still walks between the trees.”

Frowning, Steve turned the story over in his head. He didn’t remember everything about the Hellfire Club, but he hadn’t thought that they were anywhere close to its location, especially since his dad wouldn’t have wanted to be within the cult’s reach, meaning he would’ve said something if the area was too close. On the other hand, the bartender had no reason to lie to him. What did the man have to gain by making him believe the cult was nearby? He guessed it could be a prank, but it wasn’t a funny one if it was.

“Listen, great story, but that’s all it is, a story.” Steve pushed himself away from the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go collect my friends.”

“What friends?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but he looked up to see that the mirror no longer reflect Billy and Tommy. Glancing over his shoulder confirmed to Steve that they weren’t there anymore, which didn’t make sense. Even if they didn’t tell him they were leaving, he thought that he would’ve at least heard them since the two were never the quite type of drunks. He didn’t feel panicked, though. In fact, he actually felt relieved.

Billy was an asshole, and Tommy always sided with him since the jerk muscled his way into their group. Steve’s dad said that Billy was “assertive” and had a ruthlessness to him that he said Steve lacked, which was why he didn’t have a nose for business like the others. The comparison always irked Steve since he didn’t see how screwing people over or bullying them made someone a good business partner.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Who needs them?”

Hearing the bartender speak, Steve returned his attention to him only to find that his form was now twisting, growing larger until he was eerily looming over Steve. Branched, deer-like antlers crept out from underneath the other man’s curly hair while his clothes changed into robes that seemed to be made out of shadows. Then, through the darkness, a deathly pale hand nestled against Steve’s cheek, caressing it while he forced Steve to stare up into his fully black eyes.

It was then that Steve realized what was going on, and he leaned into the touch before he breathlessly whispered, “Eddie.”

Part 1.2 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 1.4

#show: stranger things #steddie #my fics #mygodlongsforme #dead dove do not eat #make certain to read the trigger warnings!#anon prompt

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argentnoelle · 1 year ago

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finished watching the severance outie cut! It actually held together far more than I thought it would, seeing as you never get answers to the whole plot—but that's not really what this version is about. It's about Mark starting out in this place of apathy and grief and depression and slowly coming to ask questions about what he's doing with his life and facing the stuff he's been trying to hide away all this time. And it ends up feeling far more complete and hopeful of a story than the original cut I think.

Because the taping together Gemma's picture is no longer a twist, it hits far more emotionally/sweetly too—in the original, there's definite plot reasons for not having seen her face until the reveal. In this cut, instead it feels very symbolic. Like, Mark's been saying he's dealing with his grief but he's not, he's hiding it away—in himself when he goes to work, in how he can't face it—the imagery of Petey's phone that he hides away in the box, just like all of Gemma's stuff is packed away in his basement, but the phone keeps calling him (another far more obvious parallel there too with Mrs. Selvig's weird basement)—the way Mark's feeling of responsibility for Petey's death ends up bringing him into an active role in the story of trying to begin to ask questions—and it culminates in him ripping up that picture of Gemma, and then suddenly realizing that's not what he wants to do, and taping it back together, and then you see her face and he sees her face for the first time in the show, it's like that amorphous grief he's running from which was so overpowering it even covered the memory of her has suddenly been pulled aside enough for him to remember the details, who she was as a person, and the love he had for her. And so after that when he decides to quit Lumon, as a character arc, it felt really complete. Like, that's the central plot of this section.

Plus I just liked how much focus this cut put on the Mark & Devon interactions (Devon is one of my favorite characters) and the slightly different view you got on the Mark & Mrs. Selvig (her loneliness and her obsession with Mark on a far more personal level), and even how much Eleanor's birth becomes a part of the plot? And how symbolically it's just part of how things start opening up. Like, the first half of the cut was slow and boring and excruciatingly sad, and then to see Mark start to live again in small ways felt so incredible in a way that it just doesn't come through in the original cut. The relationship between him and Alexa was also much cuter in this cut as well, since there wasn't so much overshadowing it. And the scene in the alley where they watch June's band also felt like such a breath of fresh air, partially because it's like the first time Mark has actually decided to do something, just because he wants to, instead of just being dragged through life. It felt really vibrant and beautiful.

I also loved the conceit of having a completely normal story set in a wacky sci-fi setting where the sci-fi stuff is only vaguely alluded to and never actually touched on. It's like "we live in evil-company-that-splits-people's-brains universe! here's a story about a man coming to terms with his grief after the loss of his wife."

#severance #meta #my stuff

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meadow-hearthfire · 8 months ago

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I've finally finished this Funk-Rock babe! He's partially inspired by @zivazivc's OC Flea and "Surfacing" from Hi-Fi Rush.

Reuben is the guitarist of a band called Startdust Dice.

My ideal voice for this babe is Jesse McCartney.

Here's a close-up of his choker:

The name of his band came from a particular set of dice (he has a hobby of collecting dice, and yes, that trinket right there is a die) that he shared with his brother Jake (who's also Flea-inspired) and two childhood friends Beck and Biff.

Oh, and here's what the lightning/zig-zag fur pattern on his torso looks like:

Don't mind the sketchiness, it's a snippet of the coloring sketch layer.

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls 2 #trolls world tour #funk troll #rock troll #trolls reuben #stardust dice #trolls mirverse #dice #dnd dice #trolls oc #trolls fc #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls oc reuben #trolls fc reuben #meadow draws #fan art

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alltheirdamn · 6 months ago

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 8 Stages

Summary: The truth is the hardest pill to swallow. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 9.5k Warnings: **THIS CONTAINS SERIES SPOILERS** violence, blood, angst x1000, language, brief hospital setting, mentions of alcohol, stages of grief, heavy emotions A/N: This was one of the most cathartic and emotional pieces of writing I've ever done.

Masterlist | Ko-fi

You didn’t realize how white your knuckles were until you glanced down at your hands gripping the steering wheel. You hadn’t moved the car a single inch since you saw Bennett’s car. It was the same piece of shit silver sedan he always drove; you’d know it in a heartbeat. Even if you didn’t recognize it, you could spot his floppy blonde hair and lean frame standing on your porch. You mindlessly searched your purse for your phone, dialing Joel’s number. You’d hate yourself for this later, but you needed to lie.

“Everythin’ okay?” Joel answered.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you lied. For your sake, you hoped that your voice wouldn’t be as shaky as your body. “I didn’t mean to freak you out earlier. Why don’t you come over later, okay? I just got home, and my head is pounding.”

“I was ‘bout to leave my house, baby. Can I come over with some medicine and some food? I’ll take care of you,” Joel insisted.

“No!” You panicked. “No, it’s okay. I’ll call you later, and you can come over. I promise.”

“Baby, y’sure you’re okay?”

You inhaled sharply, your eyes glued to Bennett only yards away. God, you were terrible at lying, but if Joel knew Bennett was here, you’d be left with a dead body in your front yard.

“I’m fine, Joel,” you sighed. “Just need some rest.”

“I’ll be waitin’ for you to call,” Joel said. You could hear the defeat in his voice.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“See you later, baby.”

You couldn’t hang up the phone fast enough. Joel would hate you for lying, but you needed to do this—whatever it was—alone. Everything in your life had been flipped on its head in just a week, and now, the man who had broken your heart beyond amends was standing at your front door. You weren’t sure if you would survive this.

Taking your foot off the brake, you rolled your car into the driveway. Bennett glanced at your car as you put it in park, his blue eyes piercing through the distance between your bodies. The coldness of his stare was just the same as it was two years ago; nothing about him had changed.

Your legs could barely hold up your trembling body as you exited the car and made your way to the porch. Bennett wore a casual business suit, the pale blue dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his black slacks hugged his long legs. He hadn’t changed one bit. He was always the businessman.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned, bounding up the porch steps.

Bennett eyed you as you got closer, shifting his weight and drinking you in. You were well aware of your appearance: the long work day had left your hair tousled and your blouse wrinkled from sitting at your desk. You spent two years imagining what seeing him again would be like, and in every stupid imagination, you weren’t looking worn down and tired. You imagined you’d be triumphant and strong, but you were small again in his shadow.

“Hello to you, too,” Bennett grinned. Your name off his tongue was venomous, a slow, poisonous drip that ran through your veins. Compared to Joel’s accent drawling out your name, Bennett said it like a curse.

“I’ll ask you again, Bennett. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Bennett’s hands twisted together in front of his body, and your eyes caught the sun’s light radiating off a golden band sitting snugly on his left hand. He was married. You steadied your body's sway, your vision blurring around the edges.

“You’re— you’re married,” you stammered.

Bennett glanced at his hand, his eyes roaming back to yours with a smug grin.

“Just tied the knot in May,” he shrugged.

“To who? What—. I don’t understand why you’re here.” Your mind was reeling.

“Her name is Natalie. We met through work about a year ago. We hit it off immediately, and I knew she was the one.”

Your knees threatened to buckle, and the strong composure you tried to maintain slipped. Bennett was married. He was in love. And it was to someone else.

“If she’s the one, then why are you here? At my house?”

Bennett looked up at the porch overhang, his eyes tracking over the flowers planted in the yard on the walkway leading to the front door. You saw it in his eyes; you had made this a home.

“Your house,” Bennett echoed.

“Yes, Bennett. My fucking house. The one you abandoned when you ran away.”

Bennett scoffed, tucking his hands into his pocket.

“You still don’t remember, huh?” He asked, tilting his head as he looked at you.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethed. You stepped forward, baring your teeth.

Not only was Bennett here, but he was taunting your memory. Nothing had fucking changed.

“A friend of mine saw you out to dinner with someone a couple of weeks ago,” Bennett started. “I was curious and figured I’d drop by and ask about it.”

You laughed.

“Not only did you leave me, but you got married. And now you want to act like you give a shit about who I date?” You accused. “Are you that fucking cruel, Bennett? Do you have any clue how fucking insane you sound? You have no control over my life anymore. Who I date and what I do is none of your business! You decided that the day you left.”

“I’m here because I care about you,” he defended.

“You never cared about me!” You yelled. “You left me! You have no right to come back. Not now. Not ever.”

Bennett stepped forward, both of you toe to toe. You couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. Something about the way he stared at you made you rethink his words. He looked concerned; he looked at you like he did care. It was a look you hadn’t seen since before the accident.

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” He asked.

“Know what, Bennett? Stop being so fucking cryptic!”

Bennett opened his mouth to speak, but the words were drowned out by the sound of tires squealing. Your head whipped to the side, your eyes widening as you saw Joel barreling out of his truck and up the yard.

“Joel?” You exhaled.

You told him you’d call him later. You told him not to come here. Why didn’t he fucking listen? Why now?

“Bennett!” He shouted, running up the front steps.

You barely made it out of the way before Joel’s fist sailed into Bennett’s jaw, the sound of bones cracking echoing around you. There was no time to recover or react as Joel grabbed Bennett by the shirt collar, spinning him into the wall and shoving him on his toes. Joel was only a few inches taller than Bennett, but in his grip, Bennett looked smaller than you had ever seen him. Blood dripped from his lip as he whimpered in Joel’s grasp, a deep purple bruise blooming across his cheek and jaw.

“Joel!” You gasped, your voice finally returning.

You ran toward his body, trying to tear him off Bennett’s body. Joel only shrugged away your hands, his fists tightening around Bennett’s collar.

“I told you I’d kill you if you ever came back,” Joel snarled.

You staggered back after hearing his words. What did Joel mean? What was he saying?

Bennett smiled through bloodied teeth, pushing his face closer to Joel’s. His eyes shifted between yours and Joel's, and his lips curled back.

“We both agreed to stay away,” Bennett said. “Then I find out you just couldn’t give up. You came right back to her. Does she even know?”

“Y’have no fuckin’ business to be back here, Bennett,” Joel snapped.

Joel used brute strength to wrangle Bennett to the ground, his arm winding back before he assaulted him with another pound of his fist. Bennett’s face snapped to the side, blood spurting onto the wood-paneled floor. Joel delivered an onslaught of punches, an explosive display of his anger shown in the form of sadistic violence. Never did you imagine Joel to be so cruel, so unforgiving… so terrifying. You watched in horror as Joel terrorized Bennett with strike after strike. You couldn’t stomach it, your body swirling with nausea as more blood pooled around Bennett’s face.

“Joel! Stop it!” You finally screamed.

You threw yourself at him, yanking at his shoulders to try and tear him away from Bennett’s limp body. Bennett’s eyes were hardly open, shallow groans escaping his mouth as he shook his head back and forth. He was hardly recognizable.

“Joel!” You pleaded. “Stop it, please!”

Finally, Joel relented, rocking back onto his heels with blood splattered on his hands and shirt. This wasn’t the man you loved. This was someone else… someone terrifying.

“I’m calling the cops,” you panted, your breath ragged as you tried to swallow down the vomit rising in your throat.

“Don’t,” Joel argued. You didn’t recognize the tone of his voice; it was so harsh and angry.

“I can’t just leave him like this, Joel! Don’t you see what you did to him? I don’t—I don’t know what the fuck just happened. I told you to stay home. I can’t… We need to call an ambulance.”

Joel stood to his full height, glancing down at his hands, their tanned skin battered and bloody. Whoever this man was before you, it was not the man you were falling in love with.

“What are you gonna tell them, baby? Because if they see me like this, I’m goin’ to jail.”

“Are you threatening me right now, Joel?” You gaped. “After everything you just did.”

His eyes met yours, the darkness inside them drowning out the brown you were so familiar with. His eyebrows furrowed together, scrutinizing your body language and disgust as you stared at him.

“Call them,” he grunted. “I don’t give a fuck. I told him what to expect if he ever came back.”

There it was again. That same sentence that confused the hell out of you. It jarred you in an unsettling way, but you pushed it down and focused on the man lying unconscious on the porch. You ran to your car, dug for your phone, and dialed 911.

You remained by your car until the police showed up, their flashing lights and sirens lighting up the fading sun as it drifted into duskfall. Joel sat on the porch steps, his head hung low and bruised hands in his lap. Neither of you had spoken a word since you called the police, and his words to Bennett still swarmed inside your mind. You had lied about the headache to him earlier, but now it was true. And you felt fucking miserable.

Two police officers exited their car, meeting you on the driveway.

“Can you tell us what happened here, ma’am?” One of them asked. He was taller than Joel, his face clean-shaven and creased with aging skin. His hand remained comfortably over the grip of his gun on his utility belt, and you tracked each movement as your heart thumped in your ears.

You swallowed thickly, deciding to do the unspeakable. You lied.

“I came home, and my ex-fiancé was waiting for me,” you explained, meticulously fabricating a story that would save Joel. Despite your confusion, a small piece of you still wanted to protect him. “I called my boyfriend and told him I felt unsafe. I tried waiting in my car, but—but my ex dragged me from the car and was threatening to hurt me if I didn’t let him inside. That's when Joel, my boyfriend, showed up. Everything he did was to protect me.”

The lie tasted bitter as it sat heavy on your tongue. It was hard to remain composed as your headache grew stronger.

“We’ll need statements from both parties,” the officer explained, reaching for a small notepad.

The other officer, a short, tan-skinned man, stayed with you and gathered your personal information. You watched as the first officer approached Joel, your body tense as you worried the stories wouldn’t add up. You lied for Joel. You hoped for both of your sakes he would fuck this up more than he had already.

The blaring sound of sirens jolted you from your fixation on Joel, the ambulance coming to a rolling stop in front of your driveway. The neighborhood was slowly becoming crowded, with watchful neighbors littering the streets and front yards. You shrunk away from their wandering eyes, wishing the world could grow quiet and dark.

Medics bounded up your driveway, a stretcher and medical supplies in hand. You bit your lip to contain the cries threatening to explode. You hated Bennett, but the brutal image of Joel’s fist crushing his face over and over again… you couldn’t erase it from your mind. Bennett was a piece of shit, but he didn’t deserve what happened.

The other officer joined you again, tapping his pen against the notepad. Anxiety wove its way through your pounding headache, straining the air, trying to expel from your chest.

“The medics are working on stabilizing him now,” he explained. “Mr. Miller’s story matches yours, so our next step is prosecution. Is that something you’d like to do, Miss Smith? I recommend filing a restraining order as soon as possible to prevent another incident like this.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you nodded. “Whatever you think is best.”

The officer cocked an eyebrow at your response, visibly confused. If you were following the path of your lie, a restraining order would make sense, but you also wanted to speak to Bennett after he recovered. You needed answers. You needed answers from him and Joel.

“I’ll give you the contact information for an attorney that can help with the process, but other than that, we have everything we need tonight,” he said. “When your ex-fiance is awake and alert, we’ll gather his statement and file a full report. Medics will transfer him to St. David’s for further evaluations and motoring. If Mr. Miller needs further medical attention, please contact us so we can include it in the report.”

He handed you a business card with his name and number, and slowly, the commotion began to die out. You looked on in horror as the medics wheeled Bennett off in a stretcher, his face swollen and bandaged. He was a hollow version of the man you once considered so powerful. Your memories, your happiness… they were always his. And you didn’t know who owned those things anymore. Everything was crashing down around you, and you had no control.

Joel’s figure was shrouded in darkness as he stood by your front door. The anger still radiated off his body, but it was far more tame than it had been just an hour ago. The medics had cleaned and bandaged his hand, and he kept it cradled to his body. You made a conscious effort not to look at the red stains marring your porch; you’d worry about cleaning the mess tomorrow. You couldn’t stomach the smell and sight of it, not when your mind was plunging further under the pressure of your migraine.

Joel said your name, steering you out of your swarming thoughts. You blinked up at him, your eyes hazy and blurred from tears.

“Why the hell are you here, Joel?” You snapped. “I told you to stay home, so why the fuck did you show up?”

“Somethin’ bout the way you sounded on the phone made me nervous. I’m not sorry I showed up, though,” he confessed. That wasn’t good enough.

“You either explain to me what the fuck just happened, or you leave,” you ordered.

“I can explain everythin’, baby. Can we just go inside?” Joel asked.

“You actually think I’m letting you in my house after you almost killed someone?” You raged. “I don’t even recognize you right now, Joel! And what the fuck did you mean when you told Bennett never to come back? What did he mean when he said you both agreed to stay away? Do you know him, Joel? Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

Joel sighed, his eyes falling to the ground; he couldn’t even fucking look at you.

“Answer me, damn it!” You cried. “Why won’t you answer me!”

“Baby, can we please go in the house? I need you to sit down and listen to me when I explain everythin’.”

“No! I want you to tell me right now.”

Joel nodded, standing idle in front of you.

“I knew about your accident before we met.”

You looked at him horrified, your body frozen.

“How?” You asked. “You didn’t even know me until almost three months ago.”

“I knew ‘bout it ‘cause we were datin’ when it happened,” he sighed. Joel’s features began to soften, and the pain in his voice was almost impossible to ignore.

“No,” you shook your head. “You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not! Would you just listen to me? Please?” He pleaded, stepping forward.

You staggered back, your back hitting the side wall of the house. Your knees barely held your weight as you tried to grasp his words. Joel rubbed his bandaged knuckles, sucking in a breath before continuing.

“You and Bennett broke up after you moved to Austin,” he began. “Y’all had some big argument, so y’moved in with Maria since you were substitute teachin’ at her school—the same school you teach at now. It musta been a couple of months after the breakup, but there was a parent-teacher conference night, and I ran into you. That's how you and I met, baby. That was nearly five years ago.”

Like a saw cutting bone, your headache fractured into a million tiny pieces, each one a sharp stab to your brain as you tried to grasp onto Joel's words. It wasn’t true. He was lying. You were going crazy; all your hard work at remembering everything and moving on was crumbling down, sand through your fingertips you could not keep from falling away.

“No, I know you’re lying,” you denied, tears streaming down your face. “You’re just making some sick fucking joke out of my memory loss. That’s what this is, isn’t it? You saw an opportunity to make up some story after I shared the most traumatic part of myself. You and Bennett…” You heaved in a breath. “No. This—this isn’t true. You’re lying.”

“I’m not! And I can prove it, but let me finish explainin’,” he begged before continuing. “We dated for almost two years, alright? Best fuckin’ years of my life. Y’were the best thing to ever happen to me. You even moved in with me and Sarah! She loved you so so much, baby. We would go to her soccer games together and watch cartoons together. We took her campin’ in the summer before the accident. Everythin’ was amazing. So fuckin’ amazing.”

“Sarah?” You interjected. “She would have said something to me months ago. You can’t expect me to believe this.”

“I begged her not to say anythin’ to you when she started school,” he explained. “I didn’t want you knowin’ till I was ready. I wanted to do this my way.”

“Your way?” You scoffed. “You get to decide when it’s a good time to tell me everything I’ve known is a lie? Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?”

“Everyone wanted to wait ‘til it was the right time,” he defended. “We all hoped you'd remember if I came back into your life.”

You slid down the wall, your body crumbling to the ground. You buried your head in your hands, trying to quell the pain squeezing together inside your head. Nothing made sense. Everything felt like a lie. It wasn’t true. You kept telling yourself that if it was true, everyone you loved and trusted had lied to you for years. You had struggled alone for so long without the truth.

“My parents? My sisters? They all knew?” You muttered. “Everyone kept this from me?”

Joel crouched in front of you, his hand hovering over your leg.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled. You shrunk away from him, curling your legs up to your chest and pressing into the wall.

“The doctors and your parents thought it was best we didn’t mess with your memory,” he said, exasperated. “Bringin’ me into your life when y’didn’t remember me woulda set you back in recovery.”

“So, what?” You laughed bitterly. “Bennett just magically reappeared to save the day? Why did he come back if he and I were broken up?”

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed tight. You shivered against the wind rustling through the yard, your thin shirt barely keeping you warm. Not even the warmth of your tears coating your cheeks could fight the chill creeping through your spine.

“Your parents made the decision to reach out to Bennett,” Joel argued. “And he loved the idea. Bennet loved knowin’ I’d have no access to your life, and he’d have you back.”

“My parents wouldn’t do that. They hate him.” You kept shaking your head, hoping things would begin to make sense.

“They hate him, but they love you more, baby,” he whispered. “And I loved you—I love you—and I was willing to risk it all. If there were some chance you would get your memory back, then I’d be here waiting for you.”

“But I never remembered! I still don’t remember, Joel! So why now? Why did you come back?”

Joel rocked back onto his heels, his body falling back until he sat before you. Tears glistened in his eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. He didn’t have the right to be sad; he fucked up. He lied to you, and now he was paying the consequences. Your indifference and anger would torture him like he had tortured you. Like everyone had tortured you.

“I just wanted the chance,” he admitted. “I wanted to know if that spark was still here between us. I know it’s still there, baby. This is real.”

“Don’t call me baby,” you cried, your voice barely above a whisper. “This isn’t real. You lied to me, Joel, and so did everyone else. Everyone decided what they thought was best for me, and I have suffered because of it. Do you not see that?”

“We did it to protect you,” he defended. “Y’gotta understand that.”

You pulled yourself to your feet, tripping over his body and toward the door. You wanted nothing to do with this conversation anymore. You fumbled with the door handle, the tremor of your fingers making your grip weak on the lock. The sound of Joel standing behind you ignited another wave of nerves, and you spun to face him.

“I will never forgive you for this,” you cried.

He stepped forward, his eyes pleading with words he couldn’t say. You shoved at his chest, forcing him away from you. Joel’s brown eyes looked at you as if he could see your heart breaking. He choked out your name, broken syllables that no longer sounded beautiful on his tongue.

“Don’t ever come back here,” you threatened. “Don’t contact me. Don’t contact my family. You need to leave. Now.”

“Please,” he begged. Heavy tears fell down his tanned cheeks, leading to the scruff lining his jaw. You would have ached to soothe his sadness yesterday, but not now. Not when his sadness stemmed from the lies that filled the gaps in your memories.

“Leave!” You screamed, shoving him again.

Joel stumbled back, staring at you wide-eyed and heartbroken. You stepped forward again, your hands ready to push against his chest one more time. He lifted his hands in defeat, walking backward down the porch steps.

“I love you,” he whispered in the night. “I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t wait to see him leave. You threw open the front door and slammed it shut just as fast, your body slumping against the wood as you swallowed down your nausea.

You wanted to vomit.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to stop loving Joel.

The room was spinning around you, and you had no chance to find your bearings before the haze washed over your mind and dropped you to the ground.

Everything was dark around you. You groaned as you peeled yourself from the floor, your head still throbbing. The lies grew louder as you tried to recall everything Joel had said.

I wanted to do this my way.

I love you.

Lie after lie, overlapping in the ocean of pain, threading its way through your body. The house felt colder than you were used to, your body still shivering as you stood on unsteady legs. You walked to the kitchen in search of water; every swallow felt like knives slicing through your throat. You fumbled for the kitchen light, rummaging through the cup cabinet for a glass. Two gray mugs sat snug on the shelf, the reminder of Joel staring straight at you. Another wave of emotions coursed through you, and you reached for them.

You turned them in your hands, the faint smell of coffee lingering on the ceramic. The quiet moment spent together no longer felt special; it felt like a disgusting lie. Joel didn’t guess how you liked your coffee; he knew. He knew everything about you. The rage inside you returned, stronger than it had been on the porch. Your hands squeezed the mugs, and you hurled them into the nearest wall, a scream erupting from your mouth. You didn’t flinch as they shattered. You didn’t blink as they pierced the wall and chipped the paint. This house was built on lies, and you wanted to ruin every inch of it. You reached for another mug, smashing it on the ground before you. Then another…and another, until you stood in a pile of broken shards of your life.

It wasn’t enough.

You walked around the house, shattering anything you could find worth breaking. You stood in the living room and stared at the dust-covered bookshelf, your chest rising and falling. The books crammed on the shelves taunted you, the broken spines and dog-eared pages another reminder of the years you’d never remember. The adrenaline and anger led you to the shelf, and you used all of your strength to push it over. It toppled to the ground, its weight shaking the floor beneath your feet. A few books made their way out of the destruction, their bindings crushed by the downfall.

You staggered back to the couch, slumping into the stiff cushions. Flashes of Joel wrapped around you flooded your mind, and you immediately rolled off of it. Your ass hit the ground, and you crumbled into a ball. Somewhere in the distance, your phone rang, the shrill of the ringer echoing through the destruction you had created. Maybe it was your mom with news of your dad. Maybe it was Beth. But you knew your phone would never light up with Joel’s name again.

You rubbed your temples, trying to massage the ache throbbing in your skull.

You spent another hour on the ground until you finally decided to drag yourself to the bathroom. Under the blinding lights, you stared at the stranger in the mirror. You didn’t recognize her. Whoever she was, she wasn’t the girl you had been hours ago. Your eyes were swollen from crying, your cheeks flushed, and your lips chapped from screaming. The wrinkles in your blouse were worse than they had been after school, the corners untucked from your work pants and splattered with remnants of Bennett’s blood. You didn’t recall ever getting close enough to the bloodshed, but the evidence of Joel’s violence was all over your body. You couldn’t tear your clothes off fast enough.

You turned on the shower and didn’t wait for the water to run warm. The cold spray washed over your hair, and you scrubbed every inch of your body until your skin was raw and red. You ran the loufa over the places on your body Joel had touched: your stomach, your neck, your breasts. There wasn’t enough soap and water to rid yourself of the phantom touches left on your skin. You hated him. No, you wanted to hate him. You shook your head… you hated him.

You hated everyone in your life.

The imprint of Joel’s body was still pressed into the other side of the bed, and you couldn’t stand looking at the pillow he had laid his head on beside you. Those moments you shared under the light of the moon no longer felt special. He knew your body once before; he had seen you stripped bare and spread open. You gave yourself to him willingly, which meant something to you. Stripping off the sheets, you tossed them to the floor, curling up on the cold mattress. Sleep evaded you, so you let the night pass, your eyes watching the hours slip away through the view behind the bedroom window.

Eventually, the sun rose and colored your room in soft morning sunshine. It angered you that the Earth continued to spin; the world hadn’t stopped moving, though you remained stuck in the series of events from yesterday. It was so fucking unfair that people around you would wake up today and move through their day with contentment and happiness. You didn’t know if you’d ever experience those emotions again. You were spiraling into each stage of grief, the overwhelming pressure of them consuming every fiber of your being.

You mustered up whatever energy you had from yesterday to pull yourself from the empty bed. You were numb as you dressed yourself for work, avoiding the mirror as you put on a black dress and flats. You had briefly considered covering your dark circles and puffy eyes with makeup, but your exhaustion and lack of care said otherwise.

Vacating your room, you walked into the mess you had created. Shards of broken dishes and glass littered the floor, the wallpaper torn in areas, and the bookshelf still lying half-destroyed in the living room. A laugh bubbled out of your mouth, the sound foreign and distorted. You did this. Your rage and hatred for everything around you ruined the only haven you had left. You couldn’t contain the laughter as it wracked through your body, tears springing from your eyes as your eyes glazed over the catastrophe of each room. The denial settled back over you when the laughter died, leaving you weeping in an empty house.

As you left the house, you averted your eyes, your self-restraint working overtime not to focus on the blood stains marring the porch. You’d deal with that later. The silence inside your car weighed heavy on you while you drove to the school, your mind numb and empty as you pulled into your parking space. You should have found a substitute for the day, but you needed the distraction. Who knows what would have become of your house if you stayed in it any longer. The idea of setting it on fire didn’t sound so bad.

You decided to lock your classroom door until school began; you didn’t need nor want to see Maria. She was just as much a liar as the rest, leading you on all these months and pushing you toward Joel. That “Happy Hour” night was just a ploy to get you and Joel in the same space; her intentions were never pure. Everyone had blood on their hands in this stupid fucking plan.

The school bell rang, and you hesitantly opened your door. You plastered on the fake smile you had mastered, feeling uncomfortable after the last few months of actually feeling happy. Joel took that away in the span of a night.

As the students filed in, you greeted them with a tight-lipped smile and a brief hello before settling into your desk chair. You weren’t in the right headspace to teach today, so you opted for quiet reading time and a few worksheets: anything to keep the noise levels down and the questions to a bare minimum.

The classes went as smoothly as possible, with only a few outbursts of noise from each class. You hadn’t found the time to cry between each one, too busy finding the courage to face Sarah.

Joel’s voice rang in your head as you watched her walk into the classroom, her curls bouncing with each step.

She loved you so much, baby.

How could you believe Joel when he said something like that? It wasn’t true; it was manipulative. You never knew Sarah until this year. She was just as much a stranger to you as any other student until Joel entered your life. Yes, you cared for her, but you didn’t love her. Even she had been a part of all of this, her last conversation with you was just as much of a lie as everything else. You doubted Joel told Tommy he loved you, and you doubted Sarah even heard the conversation—if there really was a conversation to begin with. She was pushing you toward him like everyone else did.

Everyone had a say in your life except for you. You were a bystander among their choices; nothing in the last three years had been in your control. You were a puppet on a string, tossed everywhere until it pleased them.

“Okay, class, today is just an easy day for you,” you announced, your voice harsh and clipped. “Take out your reading for the next unit and work on chapters one through three. Once you finish, please grab a worksheet from my desk and get started on that.”

A unified groan sounded through the room, and that was your breaking point. Standing from your desk, you leveled the entire desk with a heavy glare.

“I don’t want to hear a single word today,” you snapped. “Open your books and start reading. Please.”

They all looked at you in terror. You had never been one to snap or be quick to anger, but you were teetering on the edge of eruption. One more word, and you would explode. The students sorted their backpacks for their books, the sound of pages rustling the only noise surrounding you. Slumping back into your chair, you sighed heavily and turned to your computer.

An email sat unread in your mailbox, and you clicked it open with a pit in your stomach.

Ms. Smith: My deepest apologies for your recent family emergency. Per the quarterly requirements, parent-teacher conferences must be completed by the end of the week. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to reach out. Many thanks, Principal Edmonds

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck Fuck.

You completely forgot about parent-teacher conferences. In the chaos of the last week, it had slipped your mind entirely. You scrounged through your binder of schedules and pulled out the spreadsheet you had created, skimming through the list to find Sarah’s name. She was the last on the list. Fuck.

Seeing Joel this week would be too soon for the open wound bleeding inside your chest. You created a mock email to send to each parent, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you landed on Joel’s email. You couldn’t avoid just one student during the conferences, even though every atom in your body screamed at you to do it. Without a second to overthink your choices, you sent your mass email and closed your inbox.

As the class continued, students drifted to your desk for their worksheets. Sarah was among the first in the groups to come up; her eyes lowered to the ground, and a frown dragged down her lips. A piece you ached for her; she was just a child amid a web of lies. Then, there was another piece of you that understood Sarah was wiser than you realized. She understood the severity of the situation, yet she continued to persist. Were the soccer games even part of Joel's meticulous plan?

“Miss Smith,” she cautioned.

“Is there something you need, Sarah?” You scowled. You were being harsh, but you couldn’t find a fuck to give about it.

“No. I—uh—I just wanted to ask if things were okay,” she stammered. “You know, between you and my dad. I shouldn’t have said anything yesterday. It was—.”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Sarah,” you interjected. You leaned forward, locking your hands together. “You shouldn’t be worrying about my dating life, nor should you worry about your father’s. I am your teacher, and these conversations need to stop.”

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, her eyes still staring at the ground. “I understand.”

She sulked back to her desk, never looking back at you.

When the final bell rang, you exhaled relief and listened to the class chatter quietly as they packed up to leave. You quickly cleaned your desk, stuffed your things into your bag, and slung it over your shoulder. Maria's voice drifted down the hall before you could lock your door correctly.

“I’ve been trying to catch you all day!” She said, exasperated.

You rolled your eyes, dropping your keys in your bag. Inhale. Exhale.

“Sorry, Maria. I’ve just been busy,” you lied. “I need to get home, okay? We can catch up later.”

“Is everything alright?” She pressed. “Is it your dad? Is he okay?”

You whipped your head toward her, the venom creeping over your tongue. Inhale. Exhale.

“I haven’t had time to check in. I’ve been busy.”

Maria eyed you wearily, the dots connecting in her head the longer she stared at you. She saw the anger plastered on your face; she could hear the bitterness in your voice. Her lips trembled as she tried to piece together something to say.

“Did something happen with Joel…” Her voice drifted off.

“Don’t, Maria. I need to get going.”

You rushed down the hall, leaving her between empty classrooms and lingering students.

St. David’s Medical Center looked the same as it did three years ago. Nothing had changed since you had been rushed here in an ambulance, your life hanging in the balance and memory gone. You’d never forget the moment you woke up in the hospital bed, bleary-eyed and confused.

The brick building towered over you as you entered the ER. You stilled the erratic pulse in your veins before asking a nurse which floor Bennett had been transferred to. You didn’t want to do this—you didn’t want to see him—but you deserved answers that Joel didn’t have to offer. He hadn’t been the one with you the last three years; he didn’t know the other side of the story.

The elevator ride up to the trauma unit was miserable, the nerves building inside you with each passing floor. You weren’t sure what to expect when you entered Bennett’s room, but you hoped for the best. Maybe he’d talk. Maybe he’d scream. Maybe he’d threaten to sue you…or Joel. All of which were valid reactions. The elevator door slid open, exposing you to a fluorescent hallway, a blur of nurses passing by as you walked through the corridor.

The door to his room was shut, but you spotted a petite blonde woman through the cracks of the blinds. Natalie. Dammit, you forgot he had a wife, and that made all of this much more complicated. Sucking in a deep breath, you knocked.

“You aren’t welcome here,” she seethed, cracking the door open an inch.

“I understand, and I’m so sorry. I just—I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I’m at fault for all of this. I really am sorry,” you apologized.

Natalie’s green eyes pierced into you, little daggers jabbing into the places in your heart that were still left intact. She was a few inches taller than you, her frame more petite and athletic than yours. You could understand why Bennett married her; she was perfect. You had no reason to be angry with her for his decisions, but you needed Natalie to know why you needed answers.

“Is he awake?” You asked, attempting to peer over her shoulder into the room.

She quickly blocked your view, moving into the space that allowed you to see in.

“You need to leave,” she snapped. “Our lawyer will contact you, and you can apologize to him.”

“Has he told you anything about me?” You tried a different angle. “If he has, you know why I need to talk to him. What happened yesterday…I had nothing to do with it. I was a bystander in all of it, and I know that doesn’t make the situation better, but I need to talk to him.”

“And I need you to fucking leave!” She raged.

You were defeated, tired, and left with gaps in your memory that would never be filled with answers. Nodding slowly, you wound your hands together, twisting your fingers as you stood, reluctant to leave.

“Listen, when he gets better can you please just—can someone let me know? And if he ever wants to talk to me again, I’d really like to speak with him.”

“Like I said, our lawyer will contact you.”

The sound of movement behind her stirred her away, her head glancing back at the bed. You waited idly, trying to get a glimpse of Bennett. All you could make out was splotchy, swollen skin and bandages covering half his face. When you thought about Joel, a new wave of disgust flooded you. He did this. He not only ruined your life, but he ruined Bennett’s life, too. Joel nearly killed him last night, and the guilt would weigh on you heavily for that.

“Natalie,” you heard Bennett’s voice echo into the hall. It was broken and raw, and you watched the door close in your face as she returned to his bedside.

You remained outside the door for several minutes, not knowing what to say or where to go. This had been your only chance at learning the truth from his side, but Natalie persisted in not giving you the opportunity. You understood, though; you understood her pain.

You made your way down the hall toward the nurse's station. An older woman in blue scrubs looked up at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile.

“Can I help you with somethin’, dear?” She asked.

“Do you mind if I leave my number with you? It’s for the patient down in room 201. I would really appreciate it if you could leave it with him when he gets discharged.”

“Oh, of course, sweetheart. Let me grab a notepad.”

You jotted down your number and left the hospital with tears streaming down your face. Everything was hopeless, completely hopeless. You would never get answers or closure; you’d have to spend however long to accept it and move forward. But that wasn’t good enough. You deserved answers. It was your life you had lost, and everyone else got the pleasure of knowing… everyone except you.

You were too tired to care about the mess when you arrived home. You walked barefoot through the house, tiptoeing around the broken dishes, not bothered by the thought of stepping on the shards. You were numb; nothing would hurt right now. You had no appetite for dinner, so you settled for a glass of wine; at least the buzz would overlap the throbbing pain in your head.

Your phone sat on the dining table, untouched. You hadn’t checked it in nearly twenty-four hours and were scared of what you might find. Despite the anger toward your family, you still worried for your dad. It was hard to push aside the emotions weighing down your chest, but you needed to make sure he was okay.

Taking a long gulp of your wine, you finally checked your phone.

Seven missed calls from Mom

Ten missed calls from Beth

Two missed calls from Stella

You dialed your mom’s number and waited with trembling hands.

“Sweetheart! I was so worried about you. Why haven’t you answered me?” Your mom sounded flustered.

“I’ve been busy,” you lied.

“We’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day. Dad woke up this morning, and everything was okay, like we hoped. He’s going to have a bit of recovery with his hip, but there were no other issues. His memory is fine, and he’s alert.”

That was the tipping point.

“I’m glad he can remember everything. I would really hate it if you had to lie to someone again about their life,” you said bitterly.

The silence was louder than words.

“Sweetie…” Your mom pleaded.

“I know, Mom. I know you lied. I know about everything, so save it.”

“You have to understand—.”

“I don’t have to understand anything! You don’t get to decide what I think or feel right now. You all chose to lie to me for years!”

“It was what we thought was right,” your mom begged. “We didn’t want to lose you. We—we were all so scared that messing with your memory would make things worse.”

You laughed, your body void of any emotion other than anger. Your words were weapons, and you were ready to aim to kill.

“And what were you planning on doing if I got those memories back?” You questioned. “Were you hoping I’d just carry on with my life without giving a shit? You took two years of my life and kept it a secret! You took everything from me, Mom. You all did.”

There was no mistaking the sound of her crying through the phone. You pulled your cell phone from your ear, letting the muffled sounds linger in static air. Your name floated through the receiver, and you slowly brought it back to your ear. Your mom's words mumbled together.

“…sorry, sweetie. I’m so—I’m so sorry. We should have told you sooner. We shouldn’t have…”

You tore the phone from your ear again and lifted your wine glass to your lips. The rich-bodied taste paired well with your resentment, the tinge of bitterness coating your tongue and poisoning your words.

“There’s a lot you should have done and said, but it’s too late now, isn’t it?” You raged. “You should have told me the truth the moment I woke up. You should have never let Bennett back into my life, and you should have never kept Joel a secret. I understand now why you all acted so weird around Joel in Boston. I understand why everyone was shoving it down my throat to tell him about the accident. You wanted me to be the one that took the fall when everything connected. I’m sure you’re so happy now that you’re free from all the secrets you’ve been hiding.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” she sobbed. “We all did.”

“Happy?” you repeated. “I’ve been miserable for years. You all knew how Bennett treated me, and you let it happen! You made that decision, and now you have to live with it. You were worried you’d lose me? Well, congrats, Mom, you’ve lost me.”

You ended the call before she could utter another word and returned to your wine glass. Sitting at the dining table, surrounded by unfamiliar ghosts, you drank until the bottle ran empty.

Light-headed and drunk, you staggered through dark hallways to your room. The world spun around you as you collapsed onto the bed, your body on an endless merry-go-round as you tried to shut your eyes. Even with an entire bottle of wine in your system, you still couldn’t sleep. You watched the ceiling fan rotate for hours, your head spinning in the same cadence. Around and around, your thoughts turned until nausea led you to the bathroom.

You laid your head on the edge of the toilet seat, exhausted and defeated. You wanted to cry, but the tears never came. You wanted to scream, but you had no voice. All you had was a handful of anger and nowhere to place it.

It took you three days to finally clean the mess inside your house. Your energy levels ran so low from work and parent-teacher conferences that you would just lay on the couch and stare at the ruined walls. Your fridge was empty, and nothing in your pantry had been touched aside from the aged bottles of wine you kept stored on a dark shelf. You weren’t the type to drink yourself into oblivion, but it had been your only comfort amid the heartbreak. You didn’t sleep much, either, and it began showing. Makeup no longer hid the dark circles sinking in beneath your eyes; you gave up trying to hide it. Your students slowly started to notice the shift in your mood as the week passed; their books were open and ready to read before you could even sit down. It was a nonverbal agreement between them and you; they kept their voices down, and you didn’t lash out. You never wanted to be the teacher who didn’t care about what they learned, but you didn’t even care about yourself right now.

But now it was the last day of conferences, and you had to see the person you hated most—the person who built up and tore down your happiness and trust.

I love you.

You wished you could love the sound of those words. You wished you could hear them again in a different life and believe them. In whatever memories you lost, you knew Joel meant those words, and you knew you probably meant them, too. And the longer you thought about it, the more your heart shattered. It was all a lie.

The clock was nearing six o'clock when you finished your conference with Georgia and her parents. Of course, she got high accolades and praises, and you carried yourself as best as you could the entire time. With tight smiles and agreeing nods of your head, her family finally shuffled out.

You tried your hardest to contain the emotions welling inside your chest. There had been nothing but a static numbness rolling through your veins the last several days, but any moment now, Joel would walk through your classroom door and tear off the bandaid, barely keeping your heart together. You sorted through papers on your desk, trying to busy yourself as you waited while cursing yourself for ever deciding to be a teacher. If you hadn't chosen this school, maybe you could have avoided meeting Joel—back then and now. You might have never met if you had chosen a different career path. If you never met, then—

A familiar voice said your name and roused you from your endless ‘what ifs.’ Your head snapped toward the door and saw Joel standing with Sarah at his side. He didn’t need to say anything else; he saw everything written on your face—the anger, the pain, the exhaustion. He saw right through your hard exterior—he always did. And you hated him all over again.

“Hello, Sarah,” you greeted her with a tight smile. You kept your eyes below Joel’s neck when you greeted him. “Hello, Mr. Miller.”

You didn’t want to spend another second lost in the dark brown of his eyes, wondering about what could have happened if things had been different. You pulled Sarah’s report from your pile of papers and jotted down the list of what to talk about and how quickly you could sum it up. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed something in Joel’s hand, his bruised knuckles squeezing it tight.

Sarah went to one of the desks, readying herself to sit down. You held out a hand to stop her, urging her to remain standing.

You started, “I’ll keep it short and sweet, so I don’t waste any of your time.”

“What happened to your hand?” Joel’s voice radiated around the room, the concerned tone vibrating through your body.

You glanced at your hand and realized it was red and scabbed with cuts from cleaning the house—you hadn’t been particularly careful or safe when you picked up the broken pieces. You dropped your arms to your sides, keeping your features schooled and replacing any emotions with the professionalism you had mastered through the years.

“Like I was saying.” You cleared your throat. “Sarah has done great on the units so far this year. She’s among the highest-scoring students in the class and did exceptionally well on our poetry unit. I do not doubt the rest of the year will be even greater academically for her.”

Sarah stood awkwardly between you and Joel, her teeth chewing into her bottom lip. Joel shifted beside her, his hands drawn behind his back, keeping whatever he held a secret. You looked over your paper again, skimming the words that had been pre-written weeks ago.

“I have no concerns about Sarah or her capabilities in the class, so I think we should end it there,” you said. If this had been any other student, you would have spent more time talking them up and genuinely putting effort into the conference. But you wanted nothing more than to see them both walk out the door and leave.

Joel repeated your name, attempting to capture your attention. It worked, but not to his benefit.

“I am your daughter’s teacher, Mr. Miller,” you snapped. “Please address me correctly.”

You glared at him, finally meeting his eyes. He looked just as awful as you did. The glimmering amber of his eyes had dulled to a dark color you had never seen before, and his patchy beard was far past unkempt, the dark, wiry hairs traveling down his neck. Even his tan skin looked paler than you could recall.

Good, you thought. You wanted Joel to suffer.

“Miss Smith,” he tried again, dragging a hand down his face. “Can we just talk for a minute?”

“Unless you have a question about Sarah or the class material, there isn’t anything else to discuss,” you countered, clenching your jaw.

Joel turned his head toward Sarah, giving her a brief nod. She slid her eyes to you again, their hazel-colored softness filled with concern. Before you could question it, she moved toward the door, leaving you alone with Joel faster than you could register.

“Sarah!” You called, stomping to the door.

She was already running down the hallway, curls bouncing around her head.

Your body muscles tightened and contracted as you stood helplessly in the doorway. Joel’s warmth swarmed around you, even at the healthy distance he maintained.

“Hey,” Joel said from behind you.

You glanced back over your shoulder, watching as Joel brought forward the item he had hidden behind his back. It was a book. You recognized it immediately. Romeo and Juliet.

“Look, I just—.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his biceps flexing under the cotton sleeves of his shirt. “I just wanted to bring this to you. It’s yours. I kept it all these years after the accident. I don’t really know why. I mean, I do know why. It’s stupid, but it’s your book, and you deserve it back.”

“Oh.” You blinked up at him, not knowing how to respond.

“Still got all your notes and scribbles,” he sighed, handing it to you. “Used to lay up at night with it, readin’ what you wrote on the sides of the pages after the accident. Y’know, I already knew it was your favorite when I asked you. I just wanted to hear y’talk ‘bout it one more time. Y’used to talk my ear off ‘bout your favorite books.” He laughed at a memory you didn’t know existed. “Anyway, I won’t keep you any longer. Y’have a good day, Miss Smith.”

He placed the book in your hands, his body brushing your shoulder as he walked out the door. Words lodged in your throat, words you didn’t want to say. The anger you were carrying inside you was becoming unbearable, but in the same breath, you hurt for him just the same.

Joel was long gone when the words finally came out, and you whispered thank you as you held the worn-down book between your hands.

You half-considered throwing away the book when you got home, your hand hovering over the trash bin with the book grasped between your shaking fingers. There wasn’t an ounce of you that wanted to open it and see your writing. Joel had carried this with him for years, holding onto a secret only he could remember. He had read this play probably a thousand times before he had even asked about it on the soccer fields. The facade of ‘doing research’ was a lie; he only wanted to share a moment of the past with you. A moment you couldn’t remember and a moment he only wanted to relive, even for just a few seconds. And you did it. You gave him hope that his plan would work, never knowing the truth.

You hated him. But it wasn’t enough hate to drown out the immense suffering of still falling in love.

Walking to your closet, you found the darkest corner and buried the book deep into the shadows. You’d be ready to flip through the pages one day, but you needed time.

Sitting back on your heels, you stared at the cuts along your hands and felt absolutely nothing. There was no more anger.

There was nothing.

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x teacher!f!reader #joel miller #tlou #pre outbreak!joel #tlou fanfic #joel miller fanfic #i need a better word than angst at this point #angst angst angst

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