#these two DESERVE the domestic fluff okay

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Crinkled Polaroids

Ex-boyfriend!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Hi my lovelies, Lia here and I'd just like to say that this took so long and so much effort, I really poured my heart out on this one and I hope it goes well. Recently my biggest heartbreaks are the "What ifs", what if you two worked it out? Would things be different? Would Simon have the life you've dreamed for the both of you and the one he's been deprived of?

You might be asking me "Lia, what's up with all the angsty content recently, aren't you a fluff dedicated blog?" Well I feel ill, I just got off an extremely busy week and most of my drafts have been never ending angst because I lost ideas of a domestic fam with Simon but I still need to get something out for you guys okay? A random bedtime scenario written down at 3am and for the rest of my midnights during a photoshoot and exam week, what could go wrong?

I'm still waiting on what my beloved @connorsui's review has to say 👀

Disclaimers/Warnings: This is not proofread, also ANGST.

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000

A relationship with Simon Riley going south, at first it started great as most relationships do with several minor bumps due to his past but no big deal right?

But Simon distances himself, more than what's healthy and yes, you do give him his space but there's only little time until closing and distancing off for a while could turn into something like neglect.

Little things like "I love you"s, "thank you"s and every verbal affirmation that you used to think you could cling onto was now non-existent, it hurts but isn't as hurtful when he refuses to touch you.

Back hugs you give would only give you a cold shrug in return, kisses you left were on cold chapped lips that remain still. At this point, you were better off loving someone dead.. then again, aren't you already doing so?

The life you've imagined for the both of you cease to fade in your head as the true reality of the man you love sets in, that dumb idea your younger self who had rose tinted glasses had to actually settle down with someone in such a short period of time of a few years.

You felt so unappreciated, it seemed like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get him to see you. You felt cheated of the relationship you were supposed to have with him when you see others with the one you love and how he acts around everyone except you. You felt like nothing but a chore to him, an occasional fuck who cleans his home.

Then again, this is a broken man, you felt entitled to ask such a thing of him when he himself is also just healing from what his past had caused.

In Simon's eyes, he was doing you a favor, fucked up in his part thinking hurting you is the best way to save you from himself. It worked, that's what he wanted.. right?

So you leave, it was best for the both of you anyway right? Simon deserves someone who could actually make him happy and you deserve to feel loved in a relationship. Simon's life was a mess, truly, but he didn't realize how much more of a mess it was without you.

Coming home to an empty shell of a house, nothing to look forward to. He found himself almost on the brink of insanity, moving things all over his own home as if you were still there.

Always finding himself staring at that one wornout and creased polaroid of you and him, you were a silly one huh? A hobby of yours that left so much proof of your existence.

Begging him to be in a picture, bribing him with a kiss. Slightly smudged and distorted but still legible pen ink at the back as he flips the flimsy piece of thick, shiny paper.

Keep him safe for me, Ghost.

- Your favorite girl <3

You always thought of him as Simon and Ghost as just an alter ego, a mask that he needs to wear in order to stomach the violence that comes with his occupation.

You were the only one who can differentiate these two people. Tears started to form in his eyes but he blinks it away and shoves the polaroid back in his wallet.

He only started noticing changes when Johnny points out that he's become stone cold, a lot more silent, though he was known to be a ghost.. a shadow.. it wasn't like him to not even try to light up his mood with his dark jokes.

Everytime Simon thinks he gets over the pain, there's always one thing in that stupid house that reminded him of you. You weren't there but it sure felt like that you haunted every corner of the house and his mind.

Whether that'd be something you gifted him or an item of yours left behind, especially when the two of you shared moments with those items, oftentimes Simon tries to relive those, preserve his fading memory of your face.

This is what happens when the decisions you make have consequences on the one that your world revolves around.

A few years down this lane, nothing has changed for Simon, at some part of this never ending low point in his life he was under substance abuse.. alcohol to be specific, since to him it was easier. In concern of his captain, he did get help for it to which had progress.

Ghost kept it together, "today was a day to celebrate Gaz" he thought, blowing out the nicotinic smoke and flicking the ash off his cigarette after.. he knew Ghost's thing was more of a "let's drink and play pool in a pub" rather than a sit-down dinner kind of guy but Kyle insisted.

He thought about how awkward it was, although Ghost felt like he knew Kyle's family just from the lovesick fool himself who would never shut up, always finding a way to talk about his wife and their two kids.

After another puff, he throws the cigarette butt on the pavement and grinds the sole of his shoe over it, the soft hiss for the cigarette evoking, proving it was put out.

Simon walked a few blocks till stopping at the Sergeant's described location, his footsteps made smooth, satisfying taps on the wood floorboards of the porch and he knocks.

Price took liberty of being the one to open the door for Simon because the family was busy, Simon walked through the front door with ease, seeing Johnny somewhat interacting with a kid.

He was welcomed by the a cozy looking space, it was homey and clearly occupied, the shoes lined up on the shoe rack next to the door from the largest pair to the tiniest which was such a far contrast from his empty gloomy apartment.

The kid caught glimpse of Simon, they run up to him and take his hand to guide him into the living room as of to welcome him before bringing back their attention to Johnny and somewhat messing with his stubby mohawk.

The lieutenant observed his surroundings, the little toys and picture frames hung around the house, for a moment his heart drops to his stomach, he blinks thinking he must've been imagining things. Simon walked closer to it, he wasn't imagining it.. that was you, in a wedding dress, in the photo with Kyle.

You looked glowing.. as if you've never looked better in your life, that heart stopping smile on your face, the flowery bouquet on your hands. The green of stems highlight the precious metal band on your finger. Of all the people, places and time, why here? Why now? Why Kyle..?

For a few seconds, just a few when Simon thought his nerves and gut settled, he heard the sweetest voice that was all he knew.

He forgot what it sounded like, the effect it had on him, all too overwhelming for a man who tried desperately to run away from the consequences of his actions. I guess that saying that once you don't hear someone's voice as frequently, you start to forget what they sound like.

For once, the ringing in his ear is gone. Just your voice, all he needed, he closed his eyes for a few soaking in the fact that you're here. For a moment he forgets to take into account that you weren't his. You and Simon make eye contact, the smile on your face drops as soon as you realize who is in your home.. who your husband invited..

Dinner came around, you tried your best to stomach the food you made, every swallow was a challenge. You spent most of your time staring at the food below you, afraid to even spare a glance at Simon. He was as uneasy as you were, telling the group he had to go to the bathroom as an excuse to explore what you now view as your home. The place you built your family together with your husband.

Simon uses the stealth he was known for to sneak in all the rooms, starting with the closest, the kitchen. The pictures on the fridge were enough to catch his attention, polaroids were something he was all too familiar with. Photos of the kids littered on the cold metal box with magnets others were of you and Kyle.

Everywhere he glances was proof of the life you built, the life you could've had together if he hadn't taken you for granted. Simon returned to the table a few minutes later, you easily notice the sudden drop of his mood to solemn.

Constantly closing his eyes, the lieutenant's head was spinning, taking in the fact that Garrick was able to settle down with you in those few years, the same amount of time you'd been together and you both were never close to achieving what you had now.

The night ended with the mens' satisfied stomachs while you and Kyle play-fight about who gets to do the dishes. As all of them were about to leave, you gathered what little guts you had to at least try to talk to Simon as he's the last one out the door, away from the ears of your husband who's currently doing the dishes because the last thing you'd want is to ruin their friendship.

"Goodbye Si.."

Simon never thought he'd hear that nickname out of your lips ever again, he stopped, his feet felt like they were sinking on the ground. Before he knew it, Simon was back on your porch, squeezing you so tight. You tried to pull away but he only held tighter, head rested on your shoulder.

"One last, lovie.. please.." you sigh, your arms wrapping around him, you tried your best to sooth him as your palm runs up and down his back. You felt the sleeve of your shirt getting damp, Simon didn't cry often, but this was different. It wasn't silent at all like you were used to, he was straight up sobbing.

Simon pulled back slowly, you saw his puffed up and flushed face against his pale skin. You felt bad for Simon however what happened is what happened and you were content where you were no matter how much pain the past brings you.

Simon knows you're happy, he sees it, he cups your cheek with his hand. He was about to lean in and kiss your forehead like he always used to but he stops himself.

He wanted to be selfish, he wanted you again but he can't do that to Kyle and he knows this would only upset you so just like before, with a heavy heart he leaves.

Simon will forever let that sink into his heart, the only one he's ever love will forever be engrained in his mind. You will always be his favorite girl..

[writingwisterias]

if you can do a drabble or something pretty please, i need a vulnerable leon. like i mean he comes home from a mission or something and he tries to hold it in and tell you everything is fine but he just bawls his eyes out and you pamper him and take care of him and tell him it’s gonna be okay and he opens up to you and stuff

-🪑

Hi 🪑!

I hope you are doing well!!! Sorry it took me a few days!!

Warnings: Slight angst, Fluff, Comfort, Leon deserves all the hugs

RE4R!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Sometimes everything becomes too much for him, it didn't help that the rain soaked through his coat, his shoes and trousers. The mission wasn't the best either, coming back to the office spending hours being tested on for plagas, interrogating about every little detail he had to live through. They didn't understand what it was like, to live a nightmare and relive it again and again until every little detail was covered and put into a report no one would touch.

You barely heard the knock on the door the rain pelting your windows was too loud. Leon was still busy with work and said he wouldn't be able to see you for a few more days so you weren't expecting anyone. You feet thudded softly as you made your way to the door, fumbling nervously with the locks as you tried to open them. You expected to be met with someone trying to sell you something or a lost delivery boy not your soaking wet boyfriend shivering. "Oh Leon" you whispered as you ushered him inside a small puddle already forming on the floor where he stood.

He shrugged off his coat trying not to get water everywhere but the damn thing was stuck to his skin. You heard his frustrated groan as he tried to pry himself away from the fabric. Your hand was warm when it touched his face moving his head to look at you. "Hey hey stop...it's alright, let me help"

You were always so gentle, he loved that about you. Your touch was soft as you pulled the fabric, the wet sounds as it separated from him made you both cringe. He sighed once free from the offending item of clothing, a soft smile appearing on his features as you dragged him through the apartment. "Your floors are going to get wet" he mumbled, looking behind him at the trail of small puddles he was leaving. "I don't care, you'll get sick if you stay in these any longer" you spoke softly. "You will care when you slip on one of the puddles later"

"not when I have you to catch me"

He smiled at that, he was used to being depended on by everyone else but with you it felt different. It felt safer and more domestic. Maybe it's because instead of protecting your life from zombies or infected villagers - he was helping you reach a cup from the top shelf or doing the dishes after you cooked. Small things that helped him feel human.

The shower stream cleared his nose, the warm pellets of water made him jump as they touched his freezing skin. He watched as you put his wet clothes in the laundry basket, his eyes widened in surprise as yours soon joined his. You reached behind him grabbing your shampoo, fingers twirling in a signal for him to turn around. Your fingers worked wonders against his scalp, his eyes closing relishing in the way you worked through the strands. A soft hum left your lips as worked it was like you were scraping his brain free from any lingering horrors.

It wasn't until he spun back around to hold his head under the shower stream you realized he was crying, the tremble in his shoulders now noticeable. "Leon?"

You didn't know what he was on about, he had never told you the specifics of the mission but judging from the recent news channel celebrating the return of the daughter's president you could two together. "But you didn't fail, you bought her back"

Your voice was angelic, he didn't fail to notice the concern and love that laced just two simple words. His knees hit the shower floor with a thud burying his head in his hands. You watched his shoulders shake, the small scraps and bruises now prominent his skin was red from being so cold. All evidence of what he went through.

You knelt down in front of him, gently pulling his hands away from his face. Your heart cracked when you met his eyes, bloodshot and tired after a long night of trying to survive. Leon's head fell on your shoulder, holding you close. He enjoyed the skin to skin, it made him feel real. Made you feel real. "I thought I was going to fail...I was so close to losing her so many times"

Leon nodded, a soft smile on his features as he looked down at you. "I love you" he whispered. It was your turn to smile, ignoring the way the water had now gone cold. Leon's body shielded you from most of the cold water, the same way he shielded you from most of the horrors of the world. "I love you more. I'm proud of you. Always"

[baseball-dokyeom]

Welcome home, darling

Pairing: Idol!seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, domestic coups, boyfie coups

Word count: 669

Content warnings: slightly suggestive near the end

A/n: not beta read, hope you enjoy!

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“Okay, Kkuma! It’s almost time!” You squeal, excitedly petting the fluffy white dog in front of you, adjusting the pink bow on top of her head. “You’re gonna look so pretty when daddy comes home, huh?” You coo. “Daddy was gone on tour so long, and you missed him, huh?” You run around the house, making sure everything is placed neatly. His favorite meal is laid out, his favorite flowers in a vase on the table.

You hear the door open from the living room, and a sigh once he closed it. “Princess?” He calls, exhaustion evident in his voice. You stay quiet for a moment, biting your lip to hold back a squeal of excitement. “Y/n?” Hearing the unease in his voice, you jump out of the kitchen, holding Kkuma in your arms.

“Baby!” You smile, walking over to him. The exhaustion in his eyes seems to disappear as he sees his two princesses. “Welcome home, handsome.”

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to Kkuma’s head before planting his lips gently onto yours. As he pulls away, a grin is plastered on his lips. “Hi, baby. I missed you.”

You set Kkuma down and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your head in the crook of his neck. “I think I missed you more.” A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he plants a kiss on the top of your head.

“Well either way, I got you some gifts.” He smiles.

Your eyes light up. “Really?” He chuckles again, nodding as he brings his suitcase to the living room.

He bought you a lot of gifts, shirts, necklaces, bracelets, earrings, explaining that he got you something from every stop on his group’s tour. “You really didn’t have you,” you say, a pout on your lips.

He smiles and cups your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours. “I’ll always spoil you, princess.”

You smile, kissing his nose. “Then let me spoil you,” you lead him to the kitchen, showing his favorite meal and a vase full of his favorite flowers that you had set up earlier.

“All this for me?” He asks softly.

“Of course,” you say softly. “You’ve been gone for the past month, treating Carats to amazing concerts all around the US. I think my boyfriend deserves to be treated like the prince he is.” You smile and lead him to the table, sitting beside him as the two of you begin eating.

Despite calling every night he was gone, he still remembered new stories to tell you while he was in the US. You watch fondly as his eyes light up, telling you about the fans he met and the places he went.

As you finish eating dinner, you see his eyes drooping slightly. “Go get in the shower,” you say softly. “I’ll join you in a minute after I clean up.” He nods and trudges to the bathroom, starting the water as you clean up.

You slip off your clothes and hop in the shower with your boyfriend, getting flustered from seeing him naked for the first time in a month. He smirks and places his hands on your waist, pulling you to his chest. “I missed this.” He says, motioning to your naked body.

You smile and start washing him. “Well if you have some energy after…”

He nods eagerly, pressing his lips onto yours as you wash his chest, a tender, loving kiss. The both of you step out a little while later, and you dry the both of you off. He smirks, pulling you back to his chest again. “I’m not that tired..” he chuckles lowly, pressing soft kisses to your jawline, trailing to your neck and collarbone.

You pull his lips up to yours, kissing him with an aching need, your lips staying attached as you lead him to the bed, allowing him to hover on top of you as he pushes you back onto the bed. “Welcome home, darling,” you smile.

You were in for a long night.

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Tags: @bagoftobasco @spk93 @saphire2110 @strwbrryktten @karlampjm @yoonjoongles @baekjiiisbagel @teemplee @sevsrainbowrelativity-blog @padfoots-child @straykidsstanforeverandever @bloopmeplz @mnjrosn @jaydemist @reiofsuns2001 @ravishingvixx @wonuumelody @mimi894 @geeznena @starlight-night0 @eirvme @sailorjoonies @rai-scutum @straycuties8 @christinewithluv

[ivystoryweaver]

What a Mother Can Be

Pairing: Moon Dads! Steven Grant x mother!reader, Marc Spector x mother!reader. (Jake is mentioned). The story does not state that this reader has given birth to these children, nor the reader's gender, so anyone who could ever feel like a mother would be included here.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content: MOON DADS!! fluff, domestic fluff, kids, married life, it's Mother's Day, kissing, mentions of food and eating, there is a tinge of angst-ish, as Wendy Spector is mentioned, but this is not an angsty fic. This story is what I wish for the Moon Boys IF this is what they would want. They deserve to heal and they deserve a family if they want one - whatever that may look like. not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

He finds you in the kitchen early Sunday morning, standing over a hot griddle, pancakes sizzling.

Your babbling toddler wiggles in the high chair, pinching one Cheerio at a time in her chubby fingers and stuffing it into her mouth, making a kind of weird mush as she entertains herself.

You back is turned to him so you don’t realize he’s there until his arms wind around you from behind.

“You can’t cook today,” he breathes on your ear, stealthily removing the spatula from your hand.

You giggle and pretend to shrug him off. “Why not?”

“It’s Mother’s Day,” he declares, with an adoring kiss to your cheek.

“So? We have two boys about to come barreling in here,” you remind him matter-of- factly. “My present to myself is not listening to them demanding to know what’s for breakfast.”

A sliver of shame shoots through Steven's heart. He intended to wake up before you and take care of all this: breakfast and the kids. But Jake was out late last night and he accidentally overslept.

“Dada!” Lockley calls from her high chair, playfully slapping her hands down on the tray.

“Hey, sweet girl,” Steven greets his daughter, bending over to kiss her forehead. “Did you know it’s Mummy’s day?

“Ma-ma, Ma-ma, Ma-ma,” Lockley wiggles back and forth, chanting proudly.

As predicted, two energetic boys burst into the kitchen, their tousled curls an adorable mess.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” the twins shout in unison, holding up a handmade banner, constructed from about 60 post-it notes stuck together.

“Wowww,” you whistle in admiration. “Somebody’s been ransacking my office for supplies.” You wink, kneeling down to inspect their handiwork, and assuming they were unable to locate the construction paper to make this unique banner.

Then you take a closer look as Steven tends to the pancakes, finishing them up and removing them from the heat.

“Oh…” Your eyes mist over instantly when you realize the reasoning behind using such small paper to build a banner.

"There's messages on each one," Grant, the oldest twin by two minutes, shyly murmurs.

"Read 'em, read 'em, Mom!" Your energetic Jakob almost tears the feeble construct apart with his bouncing up and down.

Several of the notes boast simple messages such as, "Happy Mother's Day!" or "We love you!"

A few of them have small handprints - Mother's Day classics. There's even a tiny handprint, with LOCKLEY printed messily underneath.

"We had to write hers because she can't write," Jakob states the obvious. "But she tried to eat the Post-its."

"I'm sure she did," you chuckle, glancing over a few "coupons" where the boys have offered to load the dishwasher, fold laundry, give you a back rub and the like.

Then you notice a rather good drawing of your family under a banner reading, "The Spectors": You, holding baby Lockley. Grant and Jakob are flanking either side of you. And there are three dads pictured and labeled, Marc, Steven, Jake, underneath, "DAD" written in all caps. "MOM" is above your head.

"Grant, did you draw this, bud?" You ask your little artist, ruffling his curls.

"Yeah. It was hard to fit everyone on a Post-it, so I made it on two. So you have to keep them together...okay?" His dark eyebrows shoot up hopefully.

You nod, continuing to inspect each one.

Jake has written a few notes in Spanish and Steven left you a riddle...which led to a second riddle underneath the first one. And a third.

Jakob is giddy, dying to tell you what the riddle's answers are, but Grant silences him.

The bottom post it says, "Turn around."

Curious, you stand back up and turn to find Steven holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and a wrapped present in the other.

"One-two-three," you hear Grant coach. Then Jakob joins in. "Surprise!" Your husband and twin sons chorus.

"Happy Mother's Day, darling," Steven smiles at you, handing you your gifts. "These are from Marc and me."

"Thank you, I love them," you accept the flowers and kiss him sweetly on the lips.

"And Jake says he's going to get Frenchie to babysit next weekend so he can take you out in the city and 'show you off.' His words."

You snort, clearly amused. "Frenchie wants to babysit these three?"

"Yay!" Jakob cheers. "Uncle Frenchie! Uncle Frenchie!"

"Fen-he!" Lockley attempts, bouncing in her chair.

"See, everyone loves the idea," Steven grins, nodding for you to open the wrapped gift. "You can wear this."

A moment later, as he places your flowers in some fresh water, you unwrap your gift.

"It's beautiful," you gasp, touching the golden necklace, bearing hieroglyphs.

"It represents motherhood," Steven gushes. "Here, I made sure to get the paper that explains it all."

"Thank you." Wrapping your arms around his neck you hug him tightly. "Will you put it on me?"

Steven obliges, and you turn back to your boys. "What do you guys think?"

"It's pretty, Mom," Grant sweetly replies.

But Jakob has already dropped his half of the banner and is reaching for a pancake when Steven clears his throat pointedly.

The five of you gather around the table for an all too sugary breakfast before heading out to the park to get some fresh air, let the kids play and spend some quality time together.

Lockley can't walk quite yet, so she's rolling and scooting on a blanket on the grass while Grant and Jakob play close by.

Steven has already apologized for oversleeping, but you confess that you heard Jake come home extremely late. Lockley had a fussy night, so you turned off the baby monitor not ten minutes after he fell asleep and spent most of the early morning rocking your sweet, fussy girl.

"The perfect mom, as always," Steven compliments, with a sparkle in his eye. "And the day's not over yet. There's more to come."

You tangle your fingers with his, laying your head on his shoulder. After a brief silence, you ask, "How's Marc?"

You normally don't ask one alter to deliver messages for another. Half the time, they don't know anyway. But this is Marc. On Mother's Day.

"Quiet," Steven answers. "I think he's okay."

You hum a response, handing Lockley the pacifier she spit out.

"And you, my love? How are you today?"

Because Steven lost his mom too. And not simply because she passed away, but because the mother he thought was his was not real. Parts of her were real, to Steven anyway. The parts from childhood when she wasn't drunk, wasn't violent.

Those were Steven's memories to hold.

But he lost who he thought she was, as well.

"I'm better this year. Better every year," he nods, eyes focused on his twins playing together. "Get to spend this day with the best mum there is."

He gazes over at you adoringly.

"Thank you," you whisper, sealing your mouth to his.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Later that evening, after you and Steven have wrangled three kids into bed, you decide to take a quick shower.

When you emerge, Marc is waiting for you with a glass of wine.

"Happy Mother's Day," his dark eyes flicker down the curves of your body and he wets his lips.

"Marc," you breathe, taking the wine glass from his hand and setting it aside so you can throw your arms around him. "I didn't think I would see you today."

His strong forearms flex against your back, pulling you closer. "I'm here. Did you get the flowers?"

"Yeah they're on the dining room table. Thank you, they're beautiful."

"Good." Easing back, he kisses your mouth, before taking your hand and retrieving your wine glass. "Come on."

The sound of the record player drifts faintly down the hall, welcoming you into the den, where Marc has built a fire.

"I know it's May, but I turned the air down low," he explains, answering your quizzical look. "I know how much you love a fire."

You beam at him as he leads you to sit down on the plush rug in front of the fireplace. There's a tray with some adult-worthy snacks, like - the nice brand of cheese and fancy chocolates.

"No kids allowed," he winks, knowing you're always the one to give up the last pancake or slice of pizza for your children, or for him.

"Oooh, okay, this almost feels like an anniversary." You reach for a chocolate as the two of you get comfortable.

"Too much?" He questions, dark eyes focused intently on the way your lips wrap around the candy.

"Owh naw - its puwfect," you mumble, mouth stuffed full of a truffle.

Marc laughs, nodding mockingly, but playfully. "Sexy."

"I know," you humph, finishing your treat. "But today's my day. I don't have to be sexy."

"You couldn't help that if you tried," he smoothly counters, reaching up with his thumb to swipe chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

"You're really racking up the points here, babe, like, this is..." You glance all around you before taking a swig of your wine. "This is good. Really good."

"I thought you could use some kid-free time," he explains, "With your favorite things - without Jakob eating them all first."

You share a laugh, knowing it's true. Jakob is barely a middle child, but he certainly acts like one.

"If you want some alone time, just say the word," Marc adds, a bit reluctantly. "I just want you to be able to relax."

Setting down your wine glass, you pull him close by his t-shirt. "Don't you dare. You're mine."

You surge forward to meet his lips in a hungry kiss, the wine and the pampering treatment truly reminding you of more of a romantic anniversary setting than anything else.

Marc hums against your lips, cupping your face in his hand as you deepen the kiss, licking open the seam of his mouth to taste him. The wine and the chocolate and the essence of your husband soothes and thrills you equally as you melt into his arms.

"Thank you," you whisper, rubbing your nose against his as you part for air. "Thank you for making me a mother."

He touches his forehead to yours and earnestly returns, "Thank you for showing me what a mother can be."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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updates blog - @ivystoryupdates

[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l eight

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: Joel encourages you to leave Luke and live the life you deserve with him and Ellie; Luke confronts you about Joel; Ellie discovers your secret and tells Joel, leading you to make a heartbreaking decision for the good of everyone in Jackson.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. reader gets shoved and sustains an injury as a result (non life threatening). mentions of skin discoloration, the word bruise is used but no mentions of specific skin tone for reader, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. *other chapter warnings and tags include: soft Joel, domestic fluff between reader and Joel, Ellie is a little shit but we love her, death of two minor OCs, talk of grief, funeral and burial, confronation between Ellie and reader, confrontation between Joel and reader, ends with angst and a slight cliffhanger.

Word Count: 10k

News of the ambush attack spreads like a wildfire.

Jackson’s safety and security has been rattled.

One life lost and another life hangs in the balance.

People are anxious—and they’re terrified.

And who could blame anyone for feeling this way?

For the first time in a long time, their peace of mind had been completely shattered.

“Where the hell did the kid run off to?” Joel grumbles, shifting uncomfortably on the examination table.

Now that the adrenaline is beginning to wear off, he’s really starting to feel the pain in his shoulder. It had started throbbing something awful not long after you’d finished stitching him up, and the expired oxycodone tablets you had given him had very little potency left—they hadn’t done a goddamn thing to help ease his discomfort. Not that it really came as a surprise to either one of you that the two decades old painkillers hadn’t worked, but it’d been worth a shot to at least try and see if they would do him any good.

“She’s with Rose in the supply closet,” you reply, taping a piece of gauze over his wound in an effort to keep it protected until you could take him home and get him cleaned up—then you would bandage up his shoulder properly. “They’re gathering some supplies you’ll need and looking for a sling.” It’s quite foolish to be this close to Joel with Luke just mere feet away in the exam room down the hallway, but you can’t seem to help yourself. Offering him a look of empathy, you lift your hand and cup the side of his face, delicately cradling it in your palm. You softly graze your thumb over the scruff of his beard. “I know, I know. You’re itching to get out of here. I promise, as soon as Ellie comes back with the supplies you need, we’ll get you home, okay?”

Joel raises a questioning eyebrow. “We?”

You nod. “I want to help Ellie get you settled in for the night and make sure you’re comfortable.”

He lowers his voice. “But what ‘bout Luke?”

“He’s going to be tied up here at the clinic tonight. It’ll be a while before he heads home,” you assure him. Dropping your hand away from his face, it falls back down against your side as you step back, putting some distance between the both of you. It probably isn’t the wisest idea to spend the night looking after Joel considering you’re already treading on thin ice with your husband for tending to his injury earlier, but your desire to take care of the man you love simply can’t be suppressed. Sensing his unease about it, you quickly add, “But if you don’t want me to, then I completely understand.”

Holding your breath, you anxiously wait for his response. 

Part of you almost hopes he’ll say that he doesn’t. 

One of you needs to be the voice of reason, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be you.

“No, that ain’t it—that ain’t it at all, sweet girl,” Joel says, shooting you a stern glare for even suggesting such a thing. “‘Course I want you to come home with me and Ellie. Just don’t want you riskin’ your neck for us. I don’t want you gettin’ yourself in some kinda trouble with Luke, that’s all.”

You flash him a small, wry smile. “I’ll be fine, Joel.”

That can’t be further from the truth.

But he doesn’t have to know that.

He doesn’t have to know you’ll be in for it when you’re finally home alone with Luke.

“We hit the fucking jackpot,” Ellie announces, walking into the room. She has an old, brown canvas bag slung over her shoulder and in her hands she holds a sling for Joel’s arm. “Well, sorta. Rose said this is the only adult size the clinic has in stock, so it’s more of a loaner. She said we’ll have to bring it back as soon as his shoulder heals. It’s seen better days,” she remarks, holding it out to you. “But it should do the job.”

Taking the sling from her, you start helping Joel into it. “What about the list I gave you?” you ask her over your shoulder as you adjust the thicker strap around his neck. “Did she get you everything that I wrote down?”

Clicking her tongue, Ellie double checks the bag.

“Uh, let’s see—saline, clean bandages, and a vial of penicillin.”

“And what about the syringes?”

“She could only give me three of them since stock is too low,” she replies. “That okay?”

You shrug. “We’ll have to make it work. We can always clean and boil the needles if we have to.” You tug the strap around Joel’s neck lightly making sure you’d fastened it securely, but not too tightly, either. You touch his arm. “That feel okay, honey?” The pet name slips out, falling from your lips before you even have the chance to catch it. Blood rushes to your face and your cheeks start to burn—even with your back turned to Ellie, you can feel the smirk that’s now plastered on her face. 

“Aww,” she teases. “Honey. How fucking cute is that?”

“Ellie,” Joel says her name warningly as you pick up his bloodied denim shirt and drape it over him in an effort to cover him up. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” 

“Don’t start.”

“Okay, I won’t.” Ellie pauses, her smirk widening as she slyly adds under her breath, “Honey.”

“Jesus, it’s like this place turned into a fucking ghost town or something,” Ellie observes, glancing around as the three of you make your way down Main Street and head towards the residential side of town. “Where the hell did everybody fucking go? Did we miss something?”

“Maria must have sent out a message to call off all of today’s evening work duties,” you tell her. Even though there isn’t anyone else outside, you keep a healthy distance in between you and Joel as you walk beside him. “The last time that something like this happened, she let everyone take the night off so they could be with their families and mourn. She might even cancel tomorrow’s duties too, if she hasn’t already.”

Ellie lets out a small, understanding hum. “I see.”

“So someone dies and everythin’ just stops?” Joel asks, lightly shaking his head at the thought. “Just like that?”

“Jackson isn’t like the zones,” you remind him. “We’re a community. We all love and care for one another, and when we have a loss, it hits people hard. Peter was a husband and a friend who everyone adored. It’s not like he was some faceless number working himself to the bone to earn just enough rations to survive.” You look around the empty streets, shrugging lightly as you shove both of your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “Here in Jackson, we don’t toss bodies carelessly into a big fire pit and walk away without giving it a second thought. We bury our dead together—we grieve together. We’re still human, Joel. We can’t let the world outside these walls make us forget our humanity.”

“S’ppose you’re right,” he agrees, quietly.

The sun’s just starting to set by the time the three of you make it to Joel and Ellie’s.

“Careful, Joel,” Ellie fusses, looping her arm through his as she guides him up the steps of their front porch. “Careful, careful, careful—”

“Ellie!” he snaps irritably. “I got shot in the shoulder, not in the fuckin’ kneecap. I can fuckin’ walk just fine.” 

Ellie glances over her shoulder at you, scoffing. “It honestly blows my fucking mind that you have the hots for this.” She jerks her chin towards him and rolls her eyes. “Seriously, how does someone like him even manage to pull someone like you? Pretty sure it wasn’t his incredible personality or dashing good looks that reeled you in, so what kind of voodoo spell did my old man put your ass under, princess?”

Joel glares at her. “Now you listen here y’little shit—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you cut him off. “Knock it off, both of you.” Putting a hand on his lower back, you request, “Ellie can you get the door, please?”

She nods. Letting go of Joel’s arm, she reaches into one of the back pockets of her blue jeans. She digs out her single house key and quickly unlocks the front door, ushering you both inside. “His room’s upstairs,” Ellie informs you as she flips on the lights in the foyer and leads the way up the staircase. She beckons with her hand for you to follow her down the hallway and opens the door to Joel’s bedroom. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

“For you two to stop makin’ a huge fuss over me so I can lay down and get some fuckin’ rest?” Joel hopes. “M’exhausted.”

“Soon enough,” you promise him. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“S’that door there on the left.” He pauses, shooting you a quizzical look. “Why? What are you gonna do?”

“Run a bath to get you all cleaned up, of course.”

“Gross.” Ellie makes a face at you. “Sorry, but you’re gonna have to fly solo on that one, princess. I refuse to help you give the old man a sponge bath.”

You laugh lightly, not the slightest bit surprised by her reaction. “Fair enough. How about you go downstairs and fix him something to eat while I help him wash up?”

“Don’t have to fucking tell me twice!” Ellie whirls around on the heels of her sneakers, booking it for the door. She sings out over the shoulder, “Behave yourselves in there, you two! Don’t forget there’s an innocent child present under this roof and she doesn’t need to hear you guys bumping uglies!”

Flustered, you look down at your boots.

“Ellie!” Joel bellows her name, angrily. Before he has the chance to reprimand her, she scurries out of the room and flies down the stairs towards the kitchen.

Choking back a nervous chuckle, you pivot on your heel and walk into his bathroom. You make your way over to the porcelain tub and turn on the faucet. You kneel beside it as you wait for it to fill with water, occasionally dipping your hand into the water to check the temperature.

“M’real sorry ‘bout her,” Joel apologizes from the door. 

“It’s quite alright,” you assure him, despite the heat burning your face and neck from the teenager’s teasing. As soon as the tub is full, you shut off the faucet and stand up. You must have risen to your feet too quickly—a wave of dizziness sweeps over you and for a second, the room spins. Blinking furiously, you brush it off and beckon with a hand for Joel. “Bath’s ready. Come here.”

“Peach, you don’t gotta do this for me, y’know.”

“I know, Joel.”

“M’perfectly capable of cleanin’ myself up.”

“Yeah Joel, I know that too,” you say. “Now come here, please.”

Sighing, Joel slowly makes his way over towards you, taking your hand in his. He gives it a gentle squeeze. “You’ve done more than enough for me today, darlin’. I appreciate you for wantin’ to take care of me, but you don’t—”

You cut him off by tenderly pressing your mouth to his. “Then please, for the sake of what little sanity I have left tonight, just let me,” you murmur quietly against his lips. You reach up, pushing his soiled shirt off of his shoulders, letting the torn, bloodied denim fall to the floor behind him in a crumpled heap. You place your palm on his bare chest, right over his heart and feel it thrum strong and steady beneath your fingertips. Perring up at him, you ask, “Will you let me take care of you, Joel? Please?”

He sighs again, this time in defeat. “It really ain’t fair, y’know.”

“What’s not fair?”

Joel brushes a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“The fact that I can’t ever fuckin’ say no to you.”

With a satisfied smile, you start to help him out of the sling, setting it on the counter. You then take off his belt, unbutton his jeans, and pull down his zipper for him.

“Turn around,” he says, kicking off his boots. 

Amused, you cock an eyebrow at him. “Joel, are you kidding me?” He nods and you shake your head at him, reminding him, “I’ve seen you naked plenty of times before.”

“Never in the light,” he counters, sheepishly. “S’always in the dark.”

You lean forward and kiss his collarbone, eliciting a tiny groan from him. “Joel, please,” you mumble against his warm skin. “Don’t be silly. Now come on, let’s hurry before Ellie comes back upstairs with your dinner.” You take a step back and tug at his jeans, pulling them down his legs along with his boxer briefs. After dumping his dirty clothes into the woven laundry basket behind the door, you help him into the bathtub.

Joel hisses out in relief as he sinks into the water.

Once he’s settled in, you kneel beside it once again.

“How does it feel?”

“Feels good,” he remarks, the hot water easing the aches in his bones that have nothing to do with his injury and everything with his age. “Real fuckin’ good.”

Cupping your hands together, you dip them into the water and start wetting his hair. You can’t help but smile when you notice how it curls more so than usual when it’s wet. “Scoot forward and then lean back a little. I’m going to wash your hair—I don’t want to soak the gauze on your shoulder.” Reaching across him, you grab his bottle of shampoo, twisting the cap off. You pour some of the product into your palm and set the bottle back down. After lathering the shampoo between your hands, you start running the suds through his damp locks.

“Christ,” Joel’s eyes roll into the back of his head as soon as you start massaging his scalp. “Fuck, sweetheart. Y’know, I think I could get used to this,” he admits with a sigh of content. “Feels fuckin’ incredible.”

You smile again, opening your mouth to speak, but then immediately clamp it shut.

Suddenly, you’re feeling a little off—something doesn’t feel right.

Brows knitting together in confusion, your smile falters. 

Normally, you love the scent of Joel’s shampoo.

You can’t even begin to count all the nights you’d hold him in your arms, breathing in the earthiness of jojoba oil combined with calming lavender from his hair as he rested his head on your chest. It’s usually fairly subtle, however now, as you wash his hair, the scent seems heavier and much more potent than usual—it makes your stomach churn violently and you can taste the bile as it slowly creeps its way up your throat. Pausing, you take a brief moment to breathe your way through the wave of nausea and swallow back the bitterness, willing yourself not to be sick right there in his bath. Worried you actually might, you drop your hands from his hair, close your eyes, and sit back on your heels as you wait for the feeling to subside.

“Baby.” You hear the water slosh around him. He tries reaching out for you with his injured arm, but grimaces, unable to make it very far before a sharp pain shoots through his shoulder. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

After a minute, it passes. You open your eyes only to meet Joel’s as he watches you with concern. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong, darlin’? You feelin’ alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Leaning forward, you lift your hands to continue washing his hair. Shrugging dismissively, you realize, “I think I just need to eat something. It’s been a while since my last meal.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast,” you reluctantly admit. “I had quite a bit of work to do at the stables, so I decided to skip lunch today, and before you scold me for it, I know I shouldn’t have worked through lunch.” You flash him a crooked little grin as he pins you with a disapproving frown. “I promise I’ll eat something as soon as I get home, Joel.”

“You’d better.”

After rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, you take his washcloth and lather it up using his bar of castile soap.

“How’s the water, honey? Does it still feel alright?” you ask him sweetly, running the wet, soapy washcloth over his chest and neck. You’re careful to keep it away from his injured shoulder. Leaning over the side of the bathtub, you start washing his side, being gentle as you sweep over the bruise he’d gotten from falling off of his horse during the attack. A lock of hair falls loose from your ponytail and into your face.

Joel lifts his hand out of the water, tucking it behind your ear. “S’perfect,” he murmurs, his hand grazing your cheek. Water drips off of his arm and lands on your camisole, soaking through the thin cotton. “Looks like you’re gonna have to take off your shirt, peach. Got’cha wet.” He chuckles at his own awful innuendo.

“You’re unbelievable, Joel! I just pulled a bullet out of your shoulder, and you’re already thinking of getting me naked,” you tease him with a giggle. “Oh, and by the way, I hope you know that there will be none of that for a while, not until you’re all healed up. Got it?”

“You can’t be fuckin’ serious.” His face falls when he realizes that you aren’t joking. “But you said it could be four to six weeks until I heal. How am I s’pposed to go that fuckin’ long without touchin’ you?”

Giggling again, you give his chest a gentle pat. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Rolling his eyes at you, Joel grumbles incoherently underneath his breath.

“Oh, come here, you big grump.” You lean forward and press a delicate kiss to his right temple. Your lips linger over the small, jagged scar near his hairline, causing him to shudder slightly.

Joel hasn’t vocalized it to you, but you know that of all the scars he possesses, the one on his temple is the scar he’s the most self-conscious about, especially now that you know how he’d gotten it.

“You know, you were right about Ellie,” you murmur softly against his skin. “About her knowing. You were right to warn me that night.”

He frowns. “She confronted you ‘bout us?”

Pulling away from him, you nod. “She sure did.”

“Well, I reckon that explains why she was givin’ us so much shit earlier,” he huffs, shaking his head. “When did this happen?”

“Earlier this afternoon, when we were alone at the stables,” you answer. “She offered to work through lunch with me and it was just the two of us. It happened just before Tommy showed up and told us you had been shot.”

Joel grimaces. “Might regret askin’ this, but what did she say?”

You chew nervously on your bottom lip.

“She said she wants me to leave Luke.”

His eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline.

He knew his kid was pretty bold, but to go as far as telling you to leave your husband was pretty ballsy, even for her. He should reprimand her for it, but he can’t fault her for being brave enough to do what he still hasn’t mustered up the courage to do himself. “She did? What else did she say to you?”

“That the three of us could be a family together. A real family.” You drop the washcloth into the water and rest both arms on the edge of the tub as you continue filling him in on the encounter between you and Ellie. “She said it wasn’t complicated—that all I had to do was take off the ring, pack up my things, and leave him. She also said that I could just move in here and live with you two.” Pausing, you let out a small, breathy laugh. “I told her I would love that more than anything, but I can’t. It just isn’t possible. I can’t leave my husband.”

His jaw clenches, teeth gritting together. “‘Cause he won’t fuckin’ let you.”

You can’t help yourself and you laugh again.

Now you’re absolutely sure of it. Joel and Ellie really are cut from the same cloth.

You breathe out a long, melancholic sigh. 

“Joel, I love you. And I’ve grown to love Ellie, too. You both make me happy,” you tell him, softly. “Ever since you two came into my life, something in me changed. It was almost like I’d forgotten what it felt like to love and to be loved in return. I thought I’d lost that part of me when I lost my father two years ago. I thought that part of me had died along with him. His loss left left me feeling so empty. It left a void inside of me—but you and Ellie have filled it. It’s kind of silly, but sometimes I honestly think he sent you two to me. It’s almost like he knew I needed you.”

His eyes soften. “Ain’t silly at all, darlin’.”

“You both mean so fucking much to me,” you confess. 

“And you mean so fuckin’ much to us—you belong with us, peach. Your place is with us. Your home, it ain’t with Luke. It’s here, with me and with Ellie.”

“I know, trust me, I know that Joel. But I can’t—”

Joel sits up straight in the tub, wincing slightly.

“Joel, stop. Come on, you need to take it easy.”

Placing both hands on his chest, you try to push him back against the tub, but Joel’s hand reaches up and catches one of your wrists. He lightly curls his fingers around it. “Don’t you think it’s what your dad would want?” he questions. “You think he’d want you to be livin’ a life of misery with Luke?”

“Of course he wouldn’t. But I can’t leave him, Joel.”

“Look, whatever it is that you’re afraid of—”

“Joel, please,” you whisper, thickly. “Don’t do this.”

“You ain’t gotta be afraid, baby. I can protect you. I can keep you safe.” His thumb lightly caresses the thin, delicate skin on the inside of your wrist as his eyes meet yours. “I mean it. I can keep you safe, my sweet girl. I would never let anythin’ bad happen. I swear it. I wouldn’t let anythin’ bad happen to you, and neither would the kid. She loves you too goddamn much.”

You swallow the emotional lump in your throat. 

Lifting your wrist, Joel feathers a gentle kiss on the inside of it. He feels your pulse racing against his lips. “You’d be alright with us, y’know.”

“I know I would.”

“Then what the hell’s stoppin’ you?” Joel challenges. “We’re your family, baby. We’ve got you. No matter what—me and Ellie, we’ve got you, peach.”

Joel makes it sound so simple, so fucking easy. 

But he doesn’t know Luke the way you know Luke.

He won’t let you go, not without some kind of fight.

And Joel Miller wouldn’t be afraid to fight back.

He would kill Luke, if it came down to it.

After a moment’s silence, you finally speak. 

“Just—just give me a little time so I can figure things out, okay?” you bargain with him. “I need some time to sort things out.” Before Joel can even ask you what you’re talking about, you cut him off and shoot him a pleading look. “Please, Joel. Please. I’m just asking for some time, that’s all. If I can have it my way, I’ll be living here with you and Ellie before winter comes around in a couple of months.”

Joel sighs heavily. “Fine. I’ll give you time, but only on one condition.”

Apprehensive, you question, “What condition is that?”

“He does anythin’ to you, you come and tell me so I can handle it. Alright?”

“Joel, he’s not going to do anything to me.” The lie rolls off of your tongue with such ease that it actually takes you by surprise. “He’s not going to—”

He stops you. “Just promise me, baby. Promise that you’ll come to me if you need me. Please. S’all I’m askin’ of you.”

Knowing there is no other choice but to agree, you nod. “Of course I will.”

It’s a promise you can’t and won’t keep.

“That’s my girl.” Joel places another soft kiss onto your wrist. “I love you. I love you more than fuckin’ life itself.” He glances down and brushes his thumb over your wedding band. “Y’know, someday you’re gonna take this goddamn thing off for good and you ain’t gonna have to put it back on. You’ll be mine.”

Frowning, you counter, “But I’m already yours, Joel.”

“All mine,” he rephrases himself. “Who knows. Maybe I’ll find a ring to put on your finger myself some day.”

Worried you’ll break down, you gently tug your wrist out of his hand. “We should finish up in here. Ellie’s going to come upstairs soon.”

After you finish rinsing off the suds of soap from his body, you drain the tub and help him out of it and into a clean towel, wrapping it around his waist. You hand him a second towel which he uses to haphazardly dry off his chest and hair before walking back out into his bedroom. With his permission, you start searching through his drawers for some comfortable clothes. You pluck a pair of clean boxer briefs from one drawer and faded, navy blue sweatpants from another. Once you help him dress, you instruct, “Sit down. I’m going to bandage your shoulder.”

Obediently, Joel perches himself on the foot of his bed. 

You stand in front of him, unrolling the bandage.

“C’mere.” He grabs your hip, pulling you between his thighs. “Y’know, you make a real cute nurse.” He slides his hand up your shirt, his fingers gliding up the soft, smooth skin of your stomach.

“Joel, stop. Cut it out,” you scold him, playfully. “I need to make sure I do this right. Don’t distract me.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll behave,” Joel gruffs. He withdraws his hand from under your shirt and keeps it to himself.

You wrap the elastic, flesh toned bandage over his injured shoulder, pulling it behind his back before bringing it around across the front of his chest—after wrapping the excess material snugly around Joel’s bicep, you secure it, fastening the plastic clips at the end of it. “How does that feel? It’s not too tight, is it?”

“S’fine,” he answers. After you help him back into the sling, he wraps his opposite arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “So do I get a kiss or somethin’ for bein’ such a good patient for you, darlin’?”

“Yeah, I suppose you earned it.” Grinning, you carefully wrap an arm around his neck and lean down, swelling his lips with your own in a deep kiss. He swallows the soft moans that find their way from the back of your throat and into his mouth as his hand once again snakes its way up your shirt, touching each and every last inch of skin he can possibly reach.

“Oh fuck, my eyes!” Ellie’s voice cries behind you.

Startled, you rip yourself out of Joel’s grasp.

She stands at the door holding a steaming bowl in her hands, a horrified look on her face.

“Ellie,” you say her name, breathlessly. “We didn’t hear you coming up the stairs—”

“Obviously fucking not,” she huffs, rolling her eyes at you as she makes her way into his bedroom. “Well, now that I’m fucking scarred for life—” She pauses and sets the bowl down on Joel’s nightstand. “Here you go, Romeo. I made you some soup. And by made I really mean, I opened a can of twenty one year old chicken noodle soup and warmed it up on the stove.” Smirking, she adds, “So chow down. Unless you’re way too busy sucking her face off to eat, of course.”

Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Y’know I only need one hand to wring that little neck of yours, right?”

Before she has the opportunity to fire back, you step in. “I have to get going. It’s getting late and I need to make it home before Luke does.” You turn to Ellie. “He’s going to need a penicillin injection every six hours, okay? He’s pretty vulnerable to infection right now so he has to be on antibiotics for the next week or so.”

She nods, giving you a thumbs up. “You got it, doc.”

“Normally, you inject penicillin into the buttock—” You pause, holding back a laugh as a look of pure disgust flashes across the young girl’s face. “But, it can also be injected right into the thigh muscle. I’ll show you.” Pointing to the exact spot on the outer portion of his thigh, you instruct, “Five hundred milligrams, no more and no less. Easy enough?”

“Oh, okay. So that’s how you inject penicillin,” Ellie muses with a hum. After a moment, she mutters under her breath, “That would have been fucking useful to know about eight months ago.”

Your lips purse together tightly as you recall her story about what happened in Colorado with David and his group. 

“What’d you say, kid?” Joel asks, confused. 

“Nothing,” she replies, innocently.

Clearing your throat, you reach up, smoothing a hand over his damp curls, slicking them back. “I’m going to head home. Get plenty of rest, alright? I’ll come over and check up on you as often as I can. I promise.” You lean down, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his forehead. 

“Jesus, you two make me so fucking sick already,” Ellie remarks, making a loud gagging noise. However, when you look at her, she’s smiling.

You walk into the house, only to find it empty.

Luke must have still been caught up at the clinic.

It seems like a good sign that Carl might still be alive. 

After taking a quick, hot shower, you hastily put on some comfortable clothes and hurry downstairs to prepare a late dinner. You had just finished peeling some boiled russet potatoes you planned to mash up when the sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut echoes throughout the house. You hear his footsteps approaching and a chill runs down the length of your spine just like back in the clinic—all you can think about is what he’d said to you as he was leaving the room. 

“We’ll talk about this at home.” 

Anxiously, you turn around just as Luke enters the kitchen. He’d changed his clothes at the clinic, trading his blood soaked scrubs for a pair of dark wash blue jeans and a plain black button up shirt. “Hey,” you greet him, hoping you don’t sound as nervous as you feel. “How’s, um—how’s Carl doing?”

“He didn’t make it either,” he replies curtly. He sets his black leather satchel down onto the kitchen table. “He lost too much blood during surgery. And without a machine for a transfusion—” He stops short. He hangs his head and even from you’re standing at the stove, you can see the way his jaw clenches.

Luke takes it hard whenever he loses someone—and he always takes it out on you.

“I’m so sorry,” you manage to tell him. Despite trying to remain calm and collected, you’d started wringing your hands together out of habit.

“Well, at least there was one hero in that clinic today,” he scoffs out bitterly with a shake of his head.

You frown. “Luke, please don't do that. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Peter and Carl’s injuries were too severe. And besides, you said it yourself. We don’t have the proper equipment here in the commune.” You know there is no consoling him, not a single word of comfort could ease the blow of his failure, and yet, you find yourself trying anyway. “You did all you could do for them with what little we have. There’s nothing you could have done differently to change the outcome. Their wounds were fatal. Their fate was sealed long before they made it back to Jackson.”

Luke pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales a long, exasperated breath through his lips. It’s like watching a ticking time bomb.

“Look, it’s been a long day for everyone. Why don’t you go upstairs to take a shower, relax a bit, and then come back down for dinner?” you offer. “I’ve got a chicken baking in the oven, it shouldn’t be all that much longer now—”

Luke glares at you. “I just lost two fucking people today. Do you really think I’m fucking hungry right now?”

“You still need to eat,” you say, your voice small. 

“Are you really that fucking stupid?” He starts to walk over towards you. “What?” He asks when he notices you flinch, your body shrinking away from him. “What’s the matter, darling? You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

You answer him in the steadiest voice you can, but even you can hear the way it trembles with fear.

“Of course I’m not afraid of you, Luke.”

He lifts one of hands, prompting you to flinch again. “I’m not going to hit you,” he murmurs, touching your cheek before taking it in his palm. Knowing how uncomfortable he’s making you, his green eyes seek yours, only making it worse. “How is your boyfriend? Is he doing alright?”

The color drains from your face. “Excuse me?”

Luke cups your cheek harder. “Patching him up back at the clinic wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

You grab his wrist and try to tear his hand away from your face as you sputter, “What—what are you talking about, Luke?”

“Esther came into the clinic this evening with Martha and Lisa so they could say their goodbyes. While we were out in the hallway giving them a moment of privacy, Esther told me she saw you with Joel and Ellie. She said she watched you walk into their house with them—is that true?”

Left without another choice but to tell him the truth, you nod meekly. “It’s true,” you confess. “I walked them back to their place.” As soon as you see the anger flash in his eyes, you begin to ramble an explanation. “I went home with them so I could help Ellie get him settled. She’s fifteen years old, Luke. I needed to show her how to care for his wound and how to inject the penicillin he needs, that’s all—”

“Bullshit,” Luke seethes through his teeth. He grabs your shoulders, taking them harshly in his hands. “I’m going to ask you one more time—what the hell is going on between you and Joel Miller? And before you even think about giving me the same lie about his fucking brat of a kid, just know that I don’t fucking believe you.”

“Luke, let go of me—”

He starts shaking you as if it’ll somehow shake the answer out of you. “Fucking tell me the truth!”

You squirm in his grasp. “Luke, please! Let go of me!”

He shakes you harder, his violence escalating.

“Why were you at the fucking clinic in the first place, huh?”

“Luke, stop it! You’re hurting me!”

“What were you doing there in the first place?” He repeats, shouting the question into your face. “What were you fucking doing there? You heard your boyfriend got shot while he was out on patrol? You needed to make sure that he was okay? That he was still alive? Is that it?”

“Ellie asked me to go to the clinic with her! She was with me at the stables when Tommy showed up and told her Joel had been shot,” you try telling him. “She didn’t want to go alone!”

Finally, Luke stops rattling you. “And I suppose she asked you to tend to his injury, too?” He sneers. “She asked you to patch up his wound?”

Dizzy, you take a second to catch a quick breath, then respond, “Actually, she did. She and Tommy both asked me to take care of his shoulder and if you don’t believe me, then you can go find him and ask him yourself!”

“How fucking convenient,” Luke snorts. “Do you honestly take me for a fucking fool?”

“Luke—”

He shoves you back roughly.

Your side meets the sharp edge of the countertop in a loud, painful thud. Clutching at your ribcage, you sink down to the kitchen floor, curling yourself up into the fetal position as you brace yourself and wait for what’s undoubtedly coming next.

Luke steps towards you, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides. But before he has the chance to lay another finger on you, the doorbell rings. 

You breathe out a small sigh of relief.

“Get up,” he hisses. “Go answer it. Now.”

Your side is throbbing, but you scramble up to your feet quickly and hurry to do as you’re told. “I’ll be right there,” you call out, wincing. You briefly stop in front of a mirror hanging in the hallway and check your reflection to make sure that you look—well, that you look normal. You fix up your hair a little, smooth your shirt, and put on a brave face before opening the door. “Tommy,” you say his name in surprise. Your eyes then flicker to his wife. “Maria. What are you two doing here?”

“Sorry, little lady. We know that it’s kinda late,” he apologizes, holding Maria's hand gently in his. “But we’re wonderin’ if we could come in for a minute to talk to you and Luke?”

Without hesitating, you step aside to allow the couple into the foyer of your home. “Of course you can,” you say, closing the door behind them. “I’ve got a late dinner in the oven. If you guys are hungry, then you’re more than welcome to join us. I made plenty.”

“That’s awful kind of you,” Tommy says with a grateful nod. “But it might have to wait for another time. We’ve still got a few more people to see tonight.”

Luke steps out of the kitchen. “Tommy? Maria? Is everything alright? It’s not the baby, is it?”

Maria places a hand on her swollen midsection.

At about five months, her belly had finally popped.

“The baby’s just fine,” she assures him. “Been kicking a storm up all day long.”

“Good.” Luke stands beside you. “I know today has been very difficult, but remember to take it easy, alright? You can’t stress too much, or it can put the baby in distress. I don’t want you going into preterm labor, Maria.”

She cradles her belly. “I know, Luke. I promise, I’m being very careful,” she swears. “We’re just going out door to door and checking in on everyone, offering support where it’s needed.”

Tommy nods, his face looking worn and tired as he pulls Maria close and tucks her into his side. “What happened today was a real fuckin’ tragedy. Two people gone, just like that,” he shakes his head, sadly. “We just wanna make sure everyone’s doin’ okay.”

“How’s Martha?” you ask, tentatively. “Lisa and her daughters, how are they holding up?”

“They’re devastated,” Maria replies, sighing. “Lisa can keep it all together for the sake of her girls. It’s a whole different story for Martha, though. Peter was the only person she had, you know?”

“I can check in on her,” you offer, kindly. “I can stop by on the way to the stables in the morning to see her. Make sure that she’s taking care of herself.”

“We actually canceled tomorrow’s work duties, so if you two need to take the day off, you can,” Maria informs you, her eyes flicking from you to Luke. 

“We’re holdin’ a memorial service tomorrow in the old church house,” Tommy states. “And the burial will take place right before sunset.”

“We’ll be there,” Luke nods, taking your hand in his. He squeezes it tightly. Harshly. “Won’t we, sweetheart?”

You wince a little. “Yes, of course we will.”

Tommy notices the way you squirm. “You alright there, little lady?”

Luke squeezes your hand even tighter. It’s a warning.

“Yes,” you lie to him. “I’m perfectly fine.”

The next morning, you stop by Martha’s place, just like you’d told Maria you would. While you had no words that could console the grieving widow or ease the pain of her loss, you sat with her for a good hour and simply let her cry into your shoulder. She tuckered herself out quickly, and just before she fell asleep on the couch in her living room, you made her a promise, telling her you would see her at the memorial later that evening.

“What do you even wear to a funeral?” Ellie asks, curiously. She sits comfortably in Shimmer’s black leather saddle, the mare’s reins clutched in one of her hands. Despite work duties being canceled for the entire day, the two of you met at the stables to tend to the horses—the animals had enough water and food to get by until the following day, but still needed to be exercised so you’d suggested a short ride in the field out behind the paddock.

“Well, people typically wear black to funerals,” you answer, leading the way across the vacant patch of land on Ranger’s back. “Ellie, how many times am I going to have to tell you to hold onto the reins with both hands?” you chastise her over your shoulder. “I’m serious. The last thing we need is for you to fall off and break a bone. Both hands, missy.”

“Alright, alright. Sheesh, mom.” You can’t see it, but you hear the joking grin in her tone. “Why do people wear black to funerals? Was that always a thing?”

“Yeah. It’s the traditional color of mourning.”

“Why black? Why not like, green or something?”

“I don’t know, go ask the Ancient Romans.”

“The who?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Nevermind.”

Clicking your tongue, you start steering Ranger, signaling him to turn back towards the paddock.

“I don’t even think I own anything that’s black,” Ellie says behind you. She gently squeezes Shimmer’s sides with her calves and the horse breaks out into a trot, catching up with you and Ranger. “Green it’ll have to be, then. Oh, by the way, Joel told me to tell you that he’ll see you at midnight. Your usual place.”

You frown. “He’s one day into his recovery. He needs to rest.”

“That’s what I fucking told him. But I guess he just can’t stay away from you, princess,” she teases as the horses arrive back into the paddock.

“Alright, let me hop off Ranger and I’ll help you—”

You stop short, watching as Ellie swings her leg over the back of Shimmer’s saddle and jumps off.

She grins. “Please. I’m practically a professional at dismounting horses now. Call me Seabiscuit.”

You snort. “Ellie, Seabiscuit was the horse.”

“Oh.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Well, you know what I fucking mean.”

Laughing, you roll your eyes at her. You pull a foot free from one of the stirrups then swing your leg over and start dismounting Ranger—but the second you start going down, your opposite leg still in the stirrup supporting your weight wobbles and you lose your balance. You fall forward against the horse, accidentally sliding down his saddle.

To add insult to injury, the horn catches your sleeve and hikes up your blouse as soon as you land your feet on the ground.

“That was real fucking graceful,” Ellie cackles as she watches you try to unsnag your shirt from the saddle. Walking around Ranger to get a better view of the mishap, her grin suddenly vanishes. Her brown eyes widen when she catches a glimpse of the discoloration that starts near your hip and goes up your entire length of your side. “What the hell? Is that a fucking bruise?”

Finally, you free yourself from the saddle. Feeling your heart pound, you tug your shirt down into place, but it’s too late.“Ellie—”

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing happened to me,” you fib. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine?” Ellie repeats, incredulously. “There’s a fucking bruise the size of the state of Wyoming on you and you’re fucking fine? Really?”

“I fell,” you tell her, giving her the first excuse that you could think of. “I’m really clumsy, Ellie. Clearly I am.” You gesture to the saddle. “You saw it, just now. I almost fell off a damn horse.”

“You fell.” Ellie raises her eyebrow at you. “Or were you pushed?”

Staring at her helplessly, you reassure her, “Ellie, it’s nothing. I fell and I hit myself. Alright?”

She steps towards you and grabs the hem of your blouse, yanking it up. “That,” she points her index finger at your side, “That is not fucking nothing! That is fucking something.”

“Ellie!” Gasping, you harshly slap her hand away.

“Luke did that you, didn’t he?”

Her accusation comes without hesitation.

“Of course he didn’t,” you stammer. “I told you I fell—”

“Bullshit. I’m fucking telling Joel.”

She spins around on the heel of her sneaker.

“Ellie! No!” You catch her arm, stopping her. “No, please don’t do that! Don’t tell him. Please don’t tell Joel.”

“Then I’ll tell Tommy and Maria,” Ellie says, shrugging. “I’ll tell them about what their precious doctor is doing to you behind closed fucking doors—” She starts to leave the paddock and you’re quick to stop her once more.

“No! You cannot tell anyone! Not Tommy, not Maria, or anyone else. And you especially cannot tell Joel.”

“He’s fucking hurting you!” Ellie all but shouts at you.

“Ellie, I have it under control—”

She snorts, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, clearly.” Sarcasm drips from her tone. “I can tell you have it under control.”

You take her hands, clasping them in yours. “I can handle Luke, Ellie. It’s all under control.” Your gaze meets hers. “Please. Do not tell anyone about this.”

“But—”

“Ellie, please. I’m begging you,” you plead with her. “Don’t tell anyone—and especially not Joel. Please.”

It pains you to see her look so fucking helpless.

Maybe it’s selfish of you to ask her, a child, to keep such a secret.

But it’s for the good of Jackson.  

“Swear to me that you won’t tell him about this. Swear it.”

Again, she looks helpless, helpless, helpless. 

Eventually, she sighs out in defeat. “Okay. Fine. I swear I won’t tell Joel.”

“Or anyone else,” you add.

Her eyes fall away from yours as she mumbles, “I swear I won’t tell Joel. Or anyone else.”

Later that evening, after the memorial service, everyone makes their way to Jackson Cemetery, a makeshift graveyard right outside the west wall that’s protected by a steel fence. With men and women armed and standing around the entire perimeter of the site, the burial carried on. Miles, a former pastor, reads verses from a bible out loud at the request of the men’s families who were people of faith. You stand at Martha’s side, holding her as Tommy and two other men lower her husband’s casket into the ground and begin to shovel in the dirt.

From the corner of your eye, you see Joel as he stands in the crowd with Ellie and Dina. The girls have their arms linked together. Ellie looks over at you, then glances away, sourly shaking her head as Luke puts a comforting hand on your back. She knows it’s just for show. He’s playing the role of a good husband when he’s anything but.

After the burial, the entire town is invited back to the commune mess hall for the traditional funeral repast. Food, drinks, and plenty of stories of the patrolmen are shared—fond memories are exchanged in efforts to lighten the somber mood.

Joel watches with jealousy as you stand by Luke’s side the entire evening, his arm secured around your waist. He’d been sitting at a table across the hall near the doors with Ellie. Forcing himself to look away from you, he turns his attention to her and notices she hasn’t scarfed down her food as usual. Joel would often have to tell her to slow down before she made herself sick, but tonight, he doesn’t have to. Instead of inhaling her potatoes like a human vacuum, she pushes them around on her plate with her fork.

“Is everythin’ alright, kiddo?” he asks her, worriedly.

She lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

He frowns. “Ellie, don’t lie to me.”

She sighs again. “Okay, everything’s not fine.”

“What’s goin’ on? The funeral bother you?”

Ellie looks over towards you and Luke, nervously biting down on her lower lip. She then glances back at Joel.

“Ellie? What is it?”

“She made me swear not to tell anyone. Especially not you.”

“Who?”

The second your name comes out of her mouth, he stiffens in his chair.

“I swore to her I wouldn’t say anything, but—”

“Ellie, what the hell’s goin’ on?”

“She’s going to be so mad at me if I tell you, Joel.”

He shakes his head. “No one’s gonna be mad, kiddo. I can promise you that. No one is gonna be mad at you, alright?” He promises her. “Just tell me what’s goin’ on.”

“Well, you see—” Ellie hesitates. “The thing is—”

She trails off, unsure of how to say it.

“Christ, Ellie. Just fuckin’ spit it out.”

“I think he’s hitting her,” she finally blurts out.

Joel freezes. “What?”

“Luke. I think he’s hitting her or something.”

“Why do you think that?” he asks, his voice rigid.

Ellie lowers her voice. “Today we were taking two of the horses out on a ride around the field behind the paddock. When we got back, she slipped while she was dismounting Ranger. Her sleeve got stuck on his saddle and her shirt pulled up.” She pauses, sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling it before saying, “I saw a huge bruise on her side. It was fucking massive. It looked fresh, too.”

His blood begins to boil. “You ask her ‘bout it?”

“Of course I did. When I asked her what happened, she told me that she fell. But I didn’t believe her. When I asked her if Luke did it—”

“She admitted he did.” It’s a statement, not a question.

Ellie’s face falls. “Well no, not exactly. But Luke did it, I know he fucking did it, Joel. He’s hurting her. It’s why she won’t leave him. She’s too fucking scared of him.”

Joel looks up, his lips pressed into a tight line.

His eyes meet Luke’s from across the room.

The man gives him a small, curt nod and takes your hand in his, pulling you towards where Martha and Lisa are sitting with a group of friends, among them, Tommy and Maria.

“Joel?” Ellie says his name, nervously.

“I’ll handle it, Ellie.”

“But—”

He cuts her off.

“I said I’ll fuckin’ handle it.”

Despite knowing that Joel needed to rest, the part of you that was incredibly selfish just couldn’t wait to see him—to be with him, to hold him in your arms and kiss him. Especially after such a long, gloomy and sorrowful evening.

When midnight rolls around, you find him already waiting behind the barn. Normally, it was you who would always arrive first, so when you see Joel standing there by the paddock fence, you can’t help but feel a little surprised.

“You beat me here,” you remark with a small laugh as you approach him.

“Yeah. I did.”

Excited to see him, you don’t even catch the tone of his voice at first.

Serious.

Upset.

You beam at him and say, “Hi, honey. I missed you.” Smiling, you lift an arm to throw it around Joel’s neck in a careful hug, but he catches your wrist in his hand and stops you, the creases in his brows deepening.

“Show me.” 

Your smile slowly falters. “What?”

“Show me,” he repeats, stiffly.

“What are you talking about?” Puzzled, you pull your wrist out of his grasp and step back. 

He’d never spoken to you like that. He’d never looked at you like that before, either. Angrily.

“Joel, what’s going on?”

“Ellie told me ‘bout the bruise.”

Your blood runs frigid in your veins. “What?”

“Earlier at the repast. She told me ‘bout the bruise she saw on your side today.”

“It’s nothing, Joel—” 

“Show. Me.” Joel bites the words out through gritted teeth.

You stare at him for a moment, then sigh.

With little choice in the matter, you lift the hem of your shirt.

“Here,” you say bitterly, turning your body. “Is this what you want to see?”

His stomach churns violently.

Ellie hadn’t been exaggerating about the size of it.

The painful mark starts at your hip, and it goes up the entire length of the side of your torso until it feathers out beneath your bustline.

“I fell.” Your voice is flat, emotionless. Because you don’t know how else to react now that he knows the truth.

You don’t know what to do or what to say. 

So, you turn the dial back to numb.

“The kid didn’t believe that bullshit lie and I fuckin’ don’t believe it either. We both fuckin’ know Luke did this to you.”

He almost expects you to deny it, but when you don’t, it’s all the confirmation he needs. He starts off towards the residential side of town, prepared to yank Luke out of bed and rip him to fucking shreds.

“Joel, where the hell are you going?” you huff as you start following behind him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“M’gonna fuckin’ kill him,” Joel seethes. He lifts a hand and starts clawing at the strap of his sling to take it off. “For puttin’ his fuckin’ hands on you—”

You grab his arm. “Joel, please! Don’t!”

Refusing to stop, he drags you along behind him.

“Joel, stop! Please, can you just wait for one fucking minute?”

Digging your heels into the dirt, you yank at his arm, and plead for him to listen to you.

“Joel, just give me the chance to explain!”

Finally, he comes to a halt and whirls around, his nostrils flaring. With furiousness in his dark eyes, he faces you.

“You promised me! You fuckin’ promised me you’d come to me if he did somethin’ to you—” Realizing he’s shouting at you, Joel stops. Seeing your bottom lip quiver, he softens ever so slightly. He knows you’re not the person to take his anger out on. No, that person is fast asleep in his bed. “How long? How long has he been doin’ this to you? And don’t you lie to me.”

“Two years,” you admit in a whisper.

Joel’s face pales. 

Swallowing dryly, you shake your head. “Joel, he’s the only doctor in this town. There’s so much pressure that he carries on his back. He’s responsible for all of the people in this community,” you begin to explain. “It’s a lot to handle for one person, he’s always stressed—”

“And so beating you is the way he fuckin’ unwinds after a long day of work?” Joel, for the life of him, can’t fucking believe you’re attempting to defend Luke.

“He just loses his temper sometimes. It gets the best of him and then I’ll say something or so something to piss him off even more—”

Joel catches your hand in his. “Baby, fuckin’ stop that right now. Stop fuckin’ makin’ excuses for him. He’s fuckin’ hurtin’ you, and if something ain’t done, there’s a good chance he’s gonna wind up killin’ you.”

“I have everything under control, Joel.”

“No, you fuckin’ don’t. He’s fuckin’ hittin’ you.” Joel’s voice breaks as he speaks. “He’s hurtin’ you.”

“I can fix it,” you say, though you sound more helpless than anything else. “I just need time, but I can fix this, Joel.”

“No, peach. You can’t fix it. But I can—all you gotta do is let me.”

You look down at your shoes, feeling tears glaze over your eyes. “No. Jackson needs him, Joel.”

“But what ‘bout you?”

“I’m just one person,” you whisper. “You have to look at the bigger picture here. I’m just one fucking person.”

“One fuckin’ person who means everythin’ to me,” he says, squeezing your hand. “If you won’t let me handle him, then we go to Tommy and Maria—”

“If he gets locked up or thrown out, we won’t have a doctor, Joel. Don’t you fucking understand that?”

Joel’s beginning to lose his patience.

He knows you’re only trying to look out for the rest of the community, but at what fucking cost?

Your own life, possibly?

Maybe it’s selfish, but he doesn’t care about everybody else. He cares about you.

Dropping your hand, he steps back, shaking his head. “I ain’t gonna let him keep on hurtin’ you. I’m gonna put a stop to it.”

“Joel, you’re just going to make things fucking worse! I will handle it—I will fix it. I don’t need your help. I don’t need you stepping in trying to play the hero. It’s all under control, okay?”

“Like hell it fuckin’ is. First thing tomorrow, I’m gonna pay Luke a visit at the clinic. Have a little talk with him, man to man, or whatever he fuck he is—”

Your stomach sinks at the mere thought of it. “No! Don’t you fucking dare,” you warn him. “Don’t you even think about it, Joel.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do? Stand around with my fuckin’ hands behind my back and just let him keep on hurtin’ you? Ain’t gonna fuckin’ happen.” Realizing your stance on the matter is firm, Joel comes to his own decision. “Listen, sweet girl. If you ain’t gonna give me permission, then I’m just gonna have to ask for your forgiveness.”

You glare at him and left your chin. “Well, I won’t give it to you.”

He stares at you, completely taken aback by your sudden coldness.

“If you do anything to hurt him, or tell Tommy and Maria about this, I will never forgive you,” you threaten, a warm tear slipping down the side of your face as you prepare to shatter both his heart and yours. “I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke. And maybe it’s for the best if you just fucking stay away from me too.”

Before Joel can even think about uttering another word, you turn around and walk away.

You break down as soon as you make it home.

Sinking down onto the porch, you pull the collar of your shirt over your mouth and nose in an effort to muffle the sounds of your sobbing. That look of hurt on Joel’s face and in his eyes when you’d told him to stay away from you, it would be burned into your memory forever. It would haunt you for the rest of your damn life.

It wasn’t what you wanted.

This wasn’t what you wanted.

But there is no other choice.

There never has been another choice for you. 

The sound of gravel road crunching underneath a pair of old, tattered red low top sneakers fills the silent night air, prompting you to look up.

“Do you hate me?” Ellie questions you softly.

The remorseful expression on her face sends another sharp, stabbing pain through your chest.

“Oh, Ellie. Of course I don’t hate you.” You pat the empty spot beside you on the porch. “Come here.”

Ellie walks over and sits down beside you, pulling her knees up to her chest.

You wrap an arm around her, reassuring her, “I could never hate you, Ellie. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I know I swore to you I would keep my fucking mouth shut, but I had to tell Joel about Luke. I’m sorry—I’m so fucking sorry.” She sniffs, dabbing at her eyes as they fill with frustrated tears.

“It’s okay. I would have done the same thing if I were you.”

“Really? You would have?”

You nod, wiping at your face with your opposite hand. “Absolutely.”

���You’re only saying that to make me feel less like a big pile of dog shit, aren’t you?”

“Mostly no, but partially yes,” you joke dryly in an effort to cheer her up.

Ellie flashes you a small, watery smile. “I’ll fucking take it.”

She leans her head against your shoulder and for a while, the two of you sit there in melancholy silence.

“What’s going to happen with you and Joel?” Ellie finally asks, her voice small.

“I don’t know, Ellie,” you admit quietly. “I really don’t know.”

[zorrasucia]

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," I AM DEAD!!! and i revived just to BEG you to expand on this please i just love them so much 😭

I'm so glad you liked it, Anon! I came up with something but I'm like 90% sure it's not what you were asking for - I aimed to write more smut and it turned into saccharine fluff somehow. I apologize. Rest assured that the next update for this fic is business as usual, very spicy and contains Carmy finally ******* ****** :)

Teach Me Tonight - Deleted Scene 2.0

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] Deleted Scene: [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Mature (1k)

Tags: Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Smut, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Domesticity

"Hey, baby," Carmy mumbled with a smile, rolling over in bed and looking at you with sleepy eyes.

You had padded into the room and leaned over to kiss his neck, waking him up from his third nap of the day. In between, you had fucked - slow and loving, then quick and hard, then a mix of both. You felt tired in the best way - and still somehow you wanted him. But you could wait.

"Shhh. I'm not here for another round," you soothed, moving a lock of hair out of his face. "Got us some pizza," you settled across from him, laying the box between you.

He sat up and ogled you shamelessly. You were wearing jeans and one of his shirts, your nipples showing through the white fabric.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he shook his head and focused on the slice of pizza you handed him instead.

"I mean," you gestured at him, his naked torso and satisfied smirk, "likewise, Carm."

You shared a hungry look while taking a bite of pepperoni. He broke first, looking up at the ceiling, away from you.

"How's it feel?" he asked.

"Mmm?" you nudged his leg with your foot.

"You come like two, three times when I can only do one and be just useless..." he blushed, curiosity tinting his skin. "I was just wondering what that was like, if all women were like that."

You smiled. Sometimes you forgot that he was a virgin before you.

"A lot of women can, uh, come multiple times," you explained. "If it's done properly, if you work for it," you cleared your throat. "Some women can't come at all."

"That sounds, uh-" Carmy struggled.

"Miserable?" you supplied and he nodded. "It can be. But sex isn't always about coming, you know? It's about being close and getting to know each other."

Carmy hummed pensively.

Just now, between one round and the next you had fallen asleep still intertwined, spent, his arms around your waist and his softening cock inside you. It was nice, to be so close with zero expectations of it going anywhere.

"What've you learned about me? With sex, I mean," he asked, his blue eyes wide.

"That you're giving, uh, determined, a fast learner," you pondered for a minute while you chewed. "A bit of a control freak but we knew that from before," he chuckled. "And you think you don't deserve good shit, even though you do."

"Pretty spot on," he let out a shaky breath.

You caressed his calf over the bedsheets. It felt strange to be talking about this but it had been a fucking weird day, and discussing orgasms with Carmy while eating pizza fit right in.

"You're a great fuck, Carm," you said softly. "And that takes patience and care and- I love that you want to make me feel good. I do," his gaze was downward and you reached for his hand. "I just don't want you to think you need to be perfect for me here too, you know? There's no pressure."

Carmy nodded and his eyes met yours, he gave you a soft smile.

"Thanks," he brushed your knuckles with his thumb. Then his smile turned mischievous. "Just to be sure, you do like coming though?" he looked for confirmation, head tilted.

"Yeah," you laughed. "Obviously, yeah," you poked at his side and reached for another slice of pizza. "I'm just saying there's no pressure, okay?"

"Okay," he took a big bite of crust. "You didn't answer my question from before," he prompted, raising his eyebrows. "How does it feel?"

"Uh. Well, you don't know how good it's going to be until you're coming. Sometimes it slows down, becomes softer. Or you get halfway through the next and get stuck there," you shrugged. "Sometimes it builds up, becomes more intense each time-"

"Like the last one?" he asked.

You blushed - the memory of him on top of you, his chain dangling near your mouth, his hands holding your wrists above your head, taking up all your thoughts. He had fucked you through your first orgasm until you saw stars and your moans turned into cries of pleasure.

"Exactly like that," you replied bashfully like it wasn't you that had begged him to keep going and fuck you harder.

"How many have you done?" Carmy asked after a while.

"Huh?"

"How many times you've come in a row?" he repeated, that calculating look back on his face. "What's the max?"

"I don't know, five?" you laughed nervously. "I think you're getting the wrong message from this, Carm."

"No, I know," he shook his head. "I was guessing we could start with all that 'no pressure' thing tomorrow. And I think I still have one more round left in me today, so..."

"What the fuck, Carm?" you giggled.

You covered your face with your hands, hiding how flustered you were.

"I'm serious," he said, amusement still showing in his tone. You finally uncovered your face and looked at him. He was smiling but he wasn't joking. "I don't know how to be calm," he explained. "I don't know how to fucking relax and be normal. I never have. Being with you- That's the closest I've come to that," he said softly. You cupped his face tenderly. "But sometimes it gets so crazy that the only thing I know I can do well is make you feel good. That's why I can be a control freak and competitive and insane..."

You shushed him.

"You're fine, baby," you caressed Carmy's shoulders, scooting closer to him. "I love that you're all those things. I just- You push yourself to the limit. You can hurt yourself trying to make everything perfect," your thumb traced the edge of the dark circles around his eyes - all from early mornings and late nights at The Bear. "I don't want to be that for you - another weight, another thing that needs to be perfect."

"You're not," he whispered. "You've never been that, okay?"

"Okay," you sighed and surged forward to kiss him, his face between your palms.

Even after the kiss was over you stayed there, your forehead on his, and your noses touching.

"So," you said after a while, "how about we finish this," you pointed at the pizza, "and watch a movie?"

You had learned that watching a movie with Carmy was shorthand for a nap on the couch since he was always so fucking tired.

He chuckled against your mouth.

"I think I can manage that," he replied, guiding you by the hand to the living room.

~

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[forfucksakesniall]

Hi bestie, when you have the time could you make something for lewis, like just domestic vibes and/or he being a complete simp

Domestic Vibes and being a Complete Simp

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Trigger Warning/Content Advisory: Too much fluff

He doesn't show it much, but Lewis is a huge cuddler. When it's a lazy morning, he would bury his face in the crook of your neck and wrap his arms around you. It's a force of habit by now.

Lewis doesn't mind being the "little spoon," wrapping his arms around you as you both cuddle. His reason is because he can hear your heartbeat, but you know why he lays on your chest. You can feel the way he nuzzles his face and leaves small kisses.

He would turn the TV on and watch your favorite shows together while your koala of a boyfriend cuddles under a cozy blanket.

He talks about cooking pasta in an interview, but in reality, he is a menace in the kitchen.

But you enjoy spending time "trying" to cook something decent with him in the kitchen.

"No, Lewis. You need to add the water after." He does his old man laugh. "Oh well, we can just do it again. I guess."

When working out on his balcony in Monaco, he would encourage you to join him, making him your personal trainer. "Just one more, baby," he whispers in your ear. "I can't anymore, Lew." you try to catch your breath. "But you've only done one squat, baby."

When he did have work, he would wake up early and give you a kiss on the head before getting ready. Before he leaves the house, he would give you a kiss goodbye while you were still asleep and leave a message on your phone to see when you get up.

Lewis:

Good morning, baby.

Didn't want to wake you up.

You deserve some rest after last night ;)

I'll see you later.

I love you so much!

I love you too!!

If you ever did wake up before he left, he'd make breakfast for you and make sure to use all the time he has with you.

"You'll be late!" you tell him while he has you caged under him. "I still have some time, baby. Just let me take care of you. Don't want you feeling neglected."

When he comes late, you would wait for him in bed watching a movie or reading a book.

"Hey, baby. Why are you still awake?" he asks you. "I wanted to wait for you. You've been gone all day."

Both of you would end up in long, late-night conversations about life and dreams, making sure you always feel listened to and supported.

There may be times when you feel under the weather or when your hormones are acting up. He would stay with you longer and even call in sick if needed.

"You shouldn't have done that... This will pass. I'll be fine later anyway," you say as you cradle his face while lying in bed.

"I don't want to leave knowing that you're not feeling okay. I would be thinking about you even if I leave. Might as well stay here and take care of you," he says, leaning in close to give you a sweet kiss.

Lewis is known for being fashion-forward. While he shops for himself, he would go to the women's section to check out anything that you might like.

He would come home with dozens of bags from different brands."Looks like someone had Christmas early," you tease him. "Oh baby, this isn't even close to Christmas for you," he tells you while setting all the bags down on the floor. "I need you to be a good girl and try some things for me," he winks while getting more bags from the car.

He is seen on all your social media posts. He can't resist leaving flirty comments and adorable emojis, making sure everyone knows he's head over heels for you.

Lewis is known to be very private with his life, definitely with you. So, whenever you guys were in public, he would always take you to a place where there's a private area to be with you. Being this protective also had its perks. He knows that after they serve your food, no one would come over to check on you two again unless you both are done with your meals. He would be really handsy under the table. Light touches on your arm, the way he looks into your eyes then lips and at the same time leans in closer to you. At this point, the only thing stopping him was the table between you.

But when you're with him or your friends, he doesn't shy away from PDA. He would hug you from behind, holding your waist, have you sit on his lap, kiss your cheek from time to time, and whisper sweet nothings.

Lewis loves taking pictures with you or of you, creating a personalized gallery of your love story.

[lightdancingwords]

Come Find Me - Part Eight

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 3,369

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, mentions domestic violence/intimate partner violence, mentions police work, a little bit of angst, communication problems, profanity, discussion of teen sex (18+ character)

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Please see this post regarding future story posts.

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter Eight: A Bump In The Road

It had been almost a week since you and Beau went on your official ‘first’ date. Life complications kept interfering and being a sheriff meant Beau was busy, especially when he was coordinating calls about cars sliding off the road and citizens needing help.

You absolutely understood and had no problems waiting… because now you knew something was happening with him. Every time you flashed back to that kiss, to that restaurant, you felt your heart swell with love and adoration.

Doris caught you that Monday morning with the goofiest smile on the planet and keyed right in. “Well, it’s about damned time!”

You blinked at her, startled. “About time..?”

“Oh don’t get me started with your innocent look,” she said with a fond scoff. “Beau’s been walking about with the same silly smile.”

You couldn’t help it, you grinned. “Really?”

Doris rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, really. He isn’t on Cloud Nine. I think he’s in Cloud Heaven.”

Your smile warmed and widened. “We kissed,” you confessed. “He took me to Ciao Bella and oh, Doris… it was wonderful.”

“I’m glad,” she said, and there was a firmness to her tone that spoke volumes. “You two deserved some happiness.”

You paused, then admitted, “I didn’t think I could trust again, Doris. But every step of the way, Beau proved I could, even when I didn’t ask him to.”

“He’s a rare man,” she said with a nod. “Stubborn, Lord yes, but a good man.”

“I’m scared.”

Doris studied you for a long moment, then said, “It’s okay to be scared. Even when I knew it was going to happen, I was scared of facing this life alone without my Stan. I loved that son of a bitch and I also hated him. When he was gone and I was free, Adam snatching me up terrified me.”

“How… how did you get over it?” You dreaded asking that question. Doris seemed so strong, you envied her strength of character. You hated how you constantly felt weak.

“I did it anyway. That fear only works if it wins in holding you in place. So do it scared.”

You thought back to how you finally confronted Beau. It worked, because it gave him the kick he needed… and where your relationship was now.

“Do it scared,” you mused.

“Exactly.”

You thought about that all day as you fielded phone calls from clients who needed their insurance because they apparently forgot how to drive in snow. Just as you were grabbing paper from the printer, you heard the door chime. “Hi, I’ll be right with you,” you said absently, and then turned around.

With a start, you saw it was Emily! With a smile, you got up and greeted her. “Emily, hey! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Hey Y/N,” she said with a shaky smile.

That cued you into realizing something was up. “Is everything okay?”

“Um… can I talk to you? A-and you won’t tell my dad?”

Your brows swooped up. Carefully, you sat back down and regarded this young woman. You recalled Beau telling you Emily had just turned eighteen, so legally, she was an adult. But she was also just a kid….

“I can’t make that promise, Emily,” you said gently.

“It’s nothing bad! I just… I can’t ask my mom because she’s my mom, but I also need to talk to a woman.”

Baffled, you stared at Emily. Alarmingly, you worried if it was because maybe she was pregnant and wanted a ride to an abortion clinic. “I… um…”

“C-can I just… tell you?”

You nodded, praying you wouldn’t be caught in a situation where you’d have to help someone in a difficult situation.

“So… I’ve been with this guy, Tyler, for a few months now. He… I guess he’s my boyfriend—”

“You guess?” you asked in disbelief.

“We never really made it official,” Emily said defensively. “He said he wasn’t ready and I didn’t want to be one of those girls who pressured the guy, you know?”

Oh God. You had an inkling where the conversation was going, and prayed you were wrong. “Yeah, I’ve… been there. Go on, Emily.”

“Well, Tyler wants to take me on this really romantic date and… I think he wants us to do it.” The way she fidgeted made you think of Beau, and you wondered if he was ever an awkward teenager.

“‘It’?”

She blushed, and looked away skittishly. “You know… it.” She dropped her voice to a loud whisper despite no one else was in the office with you. “Sex.”

You found yourself wishing a giant sink hole would form and swallow you up. You actually waited several seconds, before deciding you weren’t so lucky.

“Emily… are you a virgin?”

Her face turned redder and she ducked her head. “Oh God,” she said, rubbing her face. “I… y-yeah. I really want it to be great and I really like Tyler. I just… don’t know what to do!”

“Emily, this is really something you should talk to your parents about—”

“No, I can’t!” She let out a breath. “Dad would turn all red and stutter and mom… when she gave me the ‘talk’, she kept harping on how love is really special and…”

“You felt patronized and shamed at even thinking about sex without love,” you hazarded. For some reason, Carla gave you that impression. Emily confirmed it a moment later.

“Yes! And I just… oh God, this is so embarrassing!”

She had no idea. You took a breath and decided to do your best. “Emily,… I was in college before I slept with a guy. We were both rather drunk and it was so embarrassing, I ended up being single for a year after that.”

Her eyes widened at your bluntness. She leaned forward, listening.

“Sex… can be really great. Exciting, even, especially if it’s with someone you have great chemistry with… but you shouldn’t rush into it.” You tried to articulate your thoughts. “You shouldn’t have sex just to get it over with or think it’ll make the guy love you. You should have sex when you feel ready for it. Whether it’s a one night stand or the beginning of a relationship, you need to be the one who decides to take that step for the right reason.”

Emily pondered that, biting her lower lip just like the way Beau did when he was lost in thought. “Does it ever get easier?”

“Relationships?”

“Yeah. Like… it’ll get easier… right?”

“I wish,” you said with a rueful smile.

“Ugh. Great.” She fixed a curious look on you. “Is it getting easier with my dad?”

“It is, actually,” you admitted. It was so weird having this conversation with Emily. She was your—God, did you dare call Beau your boyfriend?—she was Beau’s daughter.

“Can I ask how did it change?”

You thought of a random text message that you boldly sent, of the way you confronted him after he began avoiding you. Of how he gave you the space you so desperately needed, that when it finally happened, it was perfect.

“I found my voice and I used it,” you said. “I took that bold step, put my heart on the line, and I got so lucky.”

“Wasn’t it scary doing that?”

“God, yes,” you admitted with a breathless chuckle. “Your father could’ve ignored me, turned me away, but he didn’t, because we were actually wanting the same thing. A relationship works when the two in that situation feel the same way.”

In that moment, you caught a glimpse of the person she might turn into. Wise, intelligent, with enough sense of humor to balance her out. “Thanks, Y/N… I really needed this.”

“You’re welcome,” you said kindly. “I hope your decision is, whatever it turns out to be, makes you happy.”

“Thanks.”

—

“God, darlin’,” Beau grumbled over the phone as you drove home Friday night. “It was supposed to be our third date and instead I have to cancel, again. I’m about to go mad.”

You chuckled. Beau sounded so frustrated, because even as he grumbled, he’ll do his job. He wouldn’t leave people without help. Oh, he could have assigned his deputies to it, and he was, but he was one of the rare specimens of leadership where he actively participated as well as ordered. He refused to sit in his warm trailer while people were out in the cold.

Montana had the rare bout of snow every night and chilly days that left slick patches of ice everywhere. Friday night was the first night in a week that didn’t have snow. However, there were issues with black ice and a particularly bad accident on a bridge led to numerous calls to redirect, assist, or otherwise manage.

“Well, TGIF? You can always stop by afterwards and we can at least see each other,” you suggested as you carefully turned a corner.

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, and a trace of flirtatious energy came through. “I just might use that invitation to neck you all night.”

The mental image of your neck covered in hickeys had a flash of heat through your core. “That actually sounds like fun. I’ll pencil you in up until midnight.”

He groaned through the phone. “Christ, darlin’. Just midnight? I was thinkin’ at least ‘til dawn.”

“Someone’s ambitious,” you replied, your voice rich with humor.

“Someone has a gorgeous neck that I wanna—Jesus Christ, Pop!” You heard him cuss a blue streak, the phone held away. “Just five minutes, darlin’,” he sighed when he returned to the phone. “Just five goddamned minutes with my girlfriend. That’s all I ask. The universe is conspirin’ against me.”

Your breath hitched at being called his girlfriend, and smiled shyly. “No matter how late it is tonight,” you decided then and there, “I want you to come knock my door.”

“Yeah?” He sounded so hopeful, it warmed your heart.

“Yeah. Knock on my door, Beau.”

“And what will I get when I do?”

“The best kiss this side of the Mississippi,” you offered, pulling into your driveway.

“Now that, darlin’, will make putting up with this insanity worth it,” he declared. “Best prepare those lips of yours. I’m claimin’ them tonight.”

You grinned. “I look forward to it.”

“I gotta go, darlin’, but…” He paused and you wondered at the hesitation. “I’ll see ya tonight.”

—

It was supposed to be a quiet night. Some tea, maybe a book to read. A chance to spend a minute with Beau. Everything positively domestic, peaceful, something you needed after the weeks of heightened anxiety and the mess with Mark. Instead, you got a call.

From Emily.

Seeing her name pop up on the Caller ID surprised you. For a moment, you couldn’t recall why she’d be bothering you late on a Friday evening. Then you remembered it, her visit to your office.

“Hello,” you answered.

The sudden crash of sobbing and a partially hysterical Emily was not what you expected.

“Emily?” You sat up straighter in your easy chair. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“C-can you come get me?” she asked, hiccuping as she swallowed air to calm herself down.

Dread flooded your being. What if she’d been—You couldn’t even finish that thought out of dread. “Of course I can,” you said instantly. “Where are you?”

She rattled off an address. “I… I got into a fight with Tyler,” she said sobbing. “I’m at the gas station. He refused to take me home.”

Anger boiled in your belly. Tyler was definitely rapidly going down the list of men you disliked. “I’ll be right there,” you said firmly, getting out of your easy chair. “Just hold on, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, sniffling in the background.

You hung up and quickly grabbed your winter boots and coat. You barely paused to snatch up your car keys and headed out the door, the sound of her crying echoing in your mind. You should call Beau, you knew that, but he was busy and Emily… she needed a friend more than a parent.

It took you longer than you liked to get to the gas station due to the black ice. Your car barely crawled across the ice and you didn’t want to be added to the list of people needing help. When you got there, you saw her outside, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. At first glance she looked okay, but you had to make sure.

“Emily,” you said, getting out of the car.

She let out a sob and nearly bowled you over in a desperate hug. “I’m so sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call and if I told my dad he’d kill Tyler and—”

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, cutting her off. You wrapped your arms around her and rubbed her back. “Just tell me: are you okay? He didn’t… he didn’t force himself or anything?”

“No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. You felt the knot of fear in you loosen. Thank God. It would not have been a conversation you’d want with Beau. “He just…. C-can we talk about it in your car?”

“Of course. Come on, honey,” you said gently, leading her to the car. Once she was in the passenger seat, you went to the driver’s side and sat down. You turned on the car for the heat, and faced her. “What happened?”

Emily sniffled, wiped her eyes. “We… we were at this party. He took me to one of the rooms, locked the door, and was all ‘I’m so glad you decided to do this, baby’,” she said in an approximate male voice, then screwed her face in disgust. “I actually felt like he… like…” She made a sound of frustration.

“Like you were a prize to claim?” you suggested, watching her.

“Yeah! It was like that! I felt so gross. I told him I changed my mind and he… he was mad, asking if I didn’t love him, and—and I just told him I wanted to go home,” she said, the distress leaving and anger took its place. “He said that because I wasn’t going to be a loving girlfriend that I should just leave. So I said fine! I’ll leave!”

You smiled, feeling a spark of pride for her. “That was very brave of you.”

“I just… y-you said that it should feel right. And it didn’t.” Emily looked at you beseechingly, seeking reassurance.

“Hey… if you weren’t ready, you weren’t ready. I’m not the one who gets to decide that, Emily, you are. Not Tyler, you.” You placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “That Tyler didn’t respect that is unfortunate. But you did the right thing by leaving and calling someone.”

She swallowed hard and rubbed her face. “I don’t know what to do, Y/N.”

“Tell you what… why don’t I take you back home with me, get you some tea, and then I can take you home?”

“Yeah…. Yeah, please?”

You nodded, started the car, and drove her back to your home. She rode the way quietly, calming down. At one point she looked at her phone, rolled her eyes, and turned it off. She said nothing, and you decided not to press the point.

However, when you got home, you saw Beau’s truck. He was outside your door and turned when he heard you pull into your driveway. “Darlin’, hey, there you—Emily?”

Beau froze at seeing his daughter come out of your car. He glanced at you, then at her, more than a little confused and uncertain. “Em, everythin’ all right?”

“Hey dad. Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. She was quite the sight, red-rimmed eyes and puffy.

He frowned and walked over to her. He put one hand on her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. “I’m here for you, honey,” he murmured.

Your heart ached at seeing the worry on Beau’s face. Maybe you should’ve made her call Beau, but you wanted her settled and feeling safe first. This kind of conversation would be a difficult one at any age, for any parent or child.

Beau gently pulled Emily away, and you heard them speaking in low, indistinct voices. You stood there, uncertain, and decided to just wait. Yes, it was cold, but you’d be okay. Right now, Beau having this conversation with Emily was more important. He was important to you, and by extension, so was Emily.

“He what?!”

You looked up, saw the fury on Beau’s face. Emily was desperately trying to calm him down.

“That son of a bitch—”

“Dad, stop!” Emily grabbed a hold of Beau’s arm.

“Beau,” you said his name gently. “Listen to your daughter.”

He closed his eyes, and mustered up his composure, his calm. He took a few breaths, let them out slow, misting in the cold air. “You’re right, darlin’.” He turned back to Emily, gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Em. Just… God, I’m sorry ya went through that.”

Beau pulled his daughter into another hug, planted his lips in her hair. “I just want to protect ya, honey. I know there are some bad people out there.”

“I know, dad,” she said, clinging to him for a long moment. It broke your heart at how tender the sight was before you. “But… nothing bad happened. I left, I called Y/N….”

“Em, why didn’t you call me? Or your mom?” Beau asked, his puzzlement clear.

“I just…” Emily looked down and mumbled, “I was afraid you would get mad.”

“God, no, Emily, never,” Beau insisted, pulled her into another hug. “Mad at him, God yes. But never you. I promise, never you.”

Emily burrowed into her father’s arms, clung to him. You watched, absurdly feeling like an outsider in a family moment. Maybe Beau picked up on that, because he glanced over at you, and fixed an intense look of adoration on you.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he said quietly. “Thank you for being there for my Em.”

You smiled slowly, warmth blooming in your heart. “You’re welcome, Beau.”

He took Emily into his truck, planning to take her back to Carla’s home before he headed home. Once she was settled in the passenger seat, he came right over to you. Without a word, he pulled you into a passionate kiss that took you by surprise. Then you let out a soft sigh and melted, returning the kiss with fervor. He lingered, savoring the moment, cherishing you. When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours.

“So much for neckin’,” he whispered to you with a smile.

You let out a small laugh, your heart racing. “That’s okay. Maybe tomorrow.”

He met your gaze, pulled back enough to brush his hand across your cheek. Something flickered in his eyes and your breath hitched, wondering what it could have been. “Tomorrow, darlin’. Maybe lunch?”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Absolutely.”

He kissed you again, a quick peck this time. “Good night, darlin’.”

You watched them pull out from the curb. Emily waved at you from the passenger window, and you waved back with a smile. It made your heart ache to watch Beau leave. How did he become so wrapped up in your life that just him leaving made you miss him that much?

He called you his girlfriend. The thought still made your heart flip and swell. He was just so… you couldn’t even find the words. You smiled to yourself; the first throes of a relationship were always jittery, exciting, and full of energy that made you bounce everywhere. You definitely couldn’t get enough of him. It was different now than it was when you just went over to sleep outside his trailer.

You took a deep breath and went back inside your warm home, your heart full, even as you missed him. Just as the door shut and locked behind you, your cellphone pinged with a text message. Curious, you looked and your smile widened.

It was from Beau.

It read: I miss you already.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2, @foxyjwls007

[vcnillazelda]

hey bubb!!

if your requests are open, could u write (if ur comfortable with) something about ghost x shy/civillian f!reader?

i hope that ur having a wonderful day and thank you!!x :)

my lovely

simon riley x reader

summary: simon comes home to you.

tags: civilian! reader, shy! reader, established relationship, fluff, marriage, domestic fluff bc i crave it didnjfjsdo

a/n: this is adorable gocjdidkkd. we’re getting to the point where we have to reuse gifs so i’m sorry about that 😭

✞———————❖———————✞

“my love?” a familiar voice calls. you perk up, putting your phone down. “simon?” you call back, and surely enough your husband peers into your shared bedroom. you smile brightly, getting up hug him. his warm arms wrap around your waist, scooping you up so your legs wrapped around his hips as the two of you finally reunite after six grinding months of not seeing each other. “i missed you so much..!” you tell him, squeezing him tightly. simon chuckles softly, kissing your temple as he carries you back to bed. “i missed you too, love.” he replies, setting you down as he changes from his work clothes. “do you mind if i shower?” he asks, soft brown eyes looking at you and you feel yourself falling in love all over again. “of course not, go shower. you deserve it.” you smile, and simon nods, giving you a parting kiss before heading to the bathroom with clean clothes.

he takes 15 minutes, immediately coming back to you after drying his hair properly. “come here..!” you smile, opening your arms to him. simon climbs onto the bed, kissing your lips sweetly. “i missed you so much.” you mumble, cusping his cheeks. “i missed you too, baby. i’m happy to be home again.” he sighs, weight pressing onto you. you hum softly, burying your face into his neck as simon lays atop of you. “how’s your six months been?” he asks, gently stroking your sides before rolling onto his side of the bed. you follow him, curling into his chest. “lonely.” you pout, it’s quite dramatic but you have to admit you were very lonely when simon was away. “m’sorry, baby.” he mumbles, kissing your pouty lips. “it’s okay. it’s your job, and i promised to always wait for you.” you smile, kissing over his jaw. “yet, i have to admit… recently i’ve been worried… you’ve been away for a long time simon, and without much communication. i’m scared i’ll get that news..” you whisper. simon grasps your chin, pulling you to look at him. “i would never leave you.” he declares, and you sigh. “you can’t control that.” you mutter, yet simon doubles down. “i will never abandon you, baby. never.” he states, kissing your lips.

“simon…” you frown, burying your head into his shoulder as his hand rubs your hip slowly. “don’t go all shy. i haven’t seen you in months.” he chuckles, kissing your neck. you hum softly, staying snuggled into his body. “i’m afraid of losing you, simon.” you repeat your worries to him, and simon sighs. “i wont die on you. you keep me going.” he replies, kissing your forehead. “i’ve had nightmares about it… i wish you could stay here longer.” you sigh, closing your eyes. “i’ll see what i can do… i want to be here with you.” simon responds, hand slipping from your hip and rubbing his back gently. “you don’t have to…” you mutter, shrinking into a small ball in your lovers grasp. “i want to. i want you to be happy.” simon practically purrs, kissing your forehead. “i love you…” you whisper, face ablaze with how flustered you had grown. simon let’s out a soft laugh. “we’ve been married for four years and you’re still so shy.” he muses, kissing your lips. you break into a soft smile, kissing him again. “get some rest, love.” simon mutters, lips gently pressing to your forehead.

“only if you’ll stay with me.” you respond, hands slipping under his shirt to massage the taunt muscles in his back. “i promised to always stay with you the day we got married.” he whispers as you relax further against him, fingers rubbing deep circles over his aching back. he hums softly. “i love you simon.” you mutter, kissing his slightly exposed collarbone gently. “i love you more, love.”

[hesthermay]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

PAIRING: bucky barnes x f!reader

SUMMARY: bucky barnes and the domesticity he deserves.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

RATING + WARNINGS: general audiences, domestic themes, fluff. use of she/her, more fluff, use of y/n, more fluff. in my head reader works outside lolzies

NOTES: marvel!? again!? it never ended!! just switched to something else for a bit but hesthermay will always be a multifandom blog! i quite literally am attached to too many things for it to just be one anymore lmao. anyways!! this is apart of the lady may universe, all works will be labelled as such but remember they do not need to be read in any order or together at all! they can be read as standalone stories because they are all apart of a collection!!

MARVEL MASTERLIST LADY MAY UNIVERSE

The sun had just finished setting, the dark sky staring back at him as he stood in front of the kitchen window. 

Bucky Barnes wiped his flesh hand on his jeans before reaching up to readjust the phone wedged between his cheek and shoulder before it could fall. His other remained submerged in the soapy dishwater, metal fingers clutching the wine glass more delicately than his past self ever thought he could as he secured the device. “No, Steve—if you need me, I can come back.” 

The blonde man shot him down immediately, insisting that it would only be a waste. Bucky sighed deeply and quietly, knowing his friend was as stubborn as they came.. “Alright, punk; if you say so.” 

Truth be told, he did not want to go back just yet. As tired as he’d gotten over the years, the fight most likely wouldn’t ever leave James Buchanan Barnes’ life and that was just something he was going to have to accept. But when he’s here, in the tiny town in the middle of nowhere that was his very slice of paradise, there was no fighting. Only hard work and long days, warm evenings and calm nights, and loud laughter and dinners shared between two. 

The life that Y/N L/N had given him was not one he had predicted, but one he would never take for granted. It was…all he could possibly want. If the world were to end tomorrow, he would spend his last moments with his lips on hers. 

A tail hitting against his calf was what caught his attention and momentarily pulled him away from the conversation, glancing down at the plump dog stood next to him. Her eyes were trained on the doorway of the kitchen and the brunette knew exactly what she’d picked up on, a grin growing on his face as the last dish was dried and put away. 

“Steve, I gotta go, Y/N/N just got home…okay, okay—I’ll tell her,” he chuckled as his metal hand swiped a rag over the counter quickly.

“Tell who what?” A voice piped up from behind him and the cloth was soon abandoned as he whirled around. There she was, standing in the doorway dressed for work and looking like it’d been a long day of it, while still radiating the kind of beauty he swore he’d never get tired of.

Bucky’s grin grew into a smile impossibly fast for a man who used to be a shell, a weapon, but that wasn’t unusual for him these days. “Ah, speak of the devil and she shall appear,” he remarked, and was met with an eye roll from his love and a laugh from his friend, before pulling the phone away from his ear. 

With one click, Steve Rogers was put on speaker phone and thrown under the bus. “Stevie says you owe him a dinner from when he kicked your ass in beer pong.” 

“I did not say that!” 

Y/N’s laugh echoed around the kitchen and filled Bucky’s chest with joy. “Oh, well quit your complaining and get your ass down here then!” She called out as she made her way to the fridge, boots thumping against the floor. “And last I recall, there was no ass kicking. You barely beat me, Rogers.” 

Steve and Y/N got along great, and it had become obvious to Bucky very quickly that they acted just like siblings. Their dynamic mimicked that of an older brother and younger sister, and if they didn’t look so different it’d be hard to tell they weren’t related. If they were, Bucky knew she’d give Steve a run for his money. 

“I’m all booked up for the next few weeks unfortunately,” the captain’s voice filtered through the speaker, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to a visit after I clear everything up.” 

“Oh,” Bucky drawled out as he leaned against the counter, arms and ankles crossed in the very name of ease, “I bet you wouldn’t. Grandma’s cooking’s pretty good, right?” 

Another laugh was accompanied by the popping of a beer bottle’s cap coming off and the clinging sound of it hitting the floor. “You’re damn right!” Leaning down to pick up the trash, Y/N continued to speak to Steve but the mechanic had already gained tunnel vision. 

His eyes were on her everywhere she went, observing the way her lips formed the words but not really hearing what they were, the way her eyes flitted over to him every few minutes because she was just as obsessed with him as he was her. 

The life that Y/N L/N had given him was not one he predicted, but one he would rather die than take for granted. It was his greatest gift.

The sound of his name broke his concentration and he was brought back to the present, tuning in to the conversation to hear Steve saying his goodbyes, throwing a ‘talk to ya later, Buck!’ at the end before he hung up. The phone was forgotten, remaining in the same spot with a black screen as the family of two now focused solely on one another. Y/N walked to the sink, beginning to wash her hands as she looked at the man before her with a semi serious face. “I sure am glad Steve let you have a break even with this long mission. I was starting to go a little crazy,” she chuckled. 

“I’ll always find a way back to you, lover girl,” he replied smoothly with that crooked grin as one hand reached out to swipe a thumb across her cheek, wiping off the smudge of dirt left over from her day at work. She beamed at him and he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop himself from pulling her in for a kiss; a kiss that conveyed how much he’d missed her, how long he’d waited for her, and just how much he loved her. 

When they broke apart she laughed ever so softly, eyes a little out of focus as she recovered from the display of affection. “You gonna let me set the table, Barnes?” 

“I suppose I could,” he feigned reluctance, waiting until the very last second to release his hold on her face, hands slowly pulling away from her face where they were gently resting. 

“Thank you for making dinner, by the way,” she threw over shoulder as she made her way into the next room with the plates and silverware stacked in her hands, and he followed her with the trays of food he had prepared for them. 

“Of course, doll,” he assured, knowing that if not for her he wouldn’t be able to make this meal nor would he have the motivation to learn how to. This domesticity, the routine of home life, was utter bliss. 

The life that Bucky Barnes had gained was not one he ever thought was possible for him, but it was one he would never let go of. It was all he needed, all he wanted, all he’d dreamt of. 

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my work as your own.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Kylian Mbappé request

Fluff to smut to fluff again

It’s your first time having sex after having your baby…

The beginning of the imagine is just pure fluffy domestic dad Kylian. Changing nappies, washing bottles, and he lets you sleep while he takes care of the baby because you deserve. You guys are both very horny cause 6 weeks is the longest you’ve ever gone. Kylian is embarrassed to admit, but he gets flustered when he sees you feeding your son. He wishes it was him.😂Today is finally your check up, and you come back and tell Kylian that you have been cleared. Some cute fluff where he worships you. And then some pillowtalk at the end about the fact that you guys are finally parents and it’s such a dream. That he’s glad to do it with you.

Thank you! 😊

kylian mbappè x reader

fluff and smut!

My man

you couldn’t be more thankful for the man you had by your side every single day.

from the moment, you told him that you were pregnant, he stood by your side like a puppy, never leaving you. 

during the whole pregnancy he made sure you were comfortable and not in any pain, that you were keeping yourself hydrated and rested. he loved taking care of you and he couldn’t wait to take care of your baby too.

when you gave birth he helped you in anyway he could, from changing diapers to feed the baby when you were sleeping, from cleaning the house to taking care of you if you were too tired to even take a short shower. he always reminded you how proud he was, how proud he was for you for having your baby, for keeping a baby inside of you for nine months and for giving birth to the most amazing child he could ever ask for.

kylian loved you from the bottom his heart and sometimes he was ashamed of how easily he got turned on. if you were doing your skin care in your pajamas or if you were breastfeeding your baby, he couldn’t help the way his body reacted to those simple gestures.

he didn’t want to pressure you because he knew you would be in pain and the doctor precisely told you to wait from 6 to 9 weeks before you could have sex again and this thing was literally killing him. he would have an erection even from the stupidest thing you could do.

truth be told you were horny too.

maybe it was the hormones or maybe the fact that you both stopped having sex when you entered the eight month because it was hurting you too much but now, almost five months later you were horny as fuck and you couldn’t wait to have kylian’s hands all over your body again.

since he wouldn’t make a move you decided it was your turn. you knew he wouldn’t want to hurt you or pressure you but you were ready for it and he needed to know that.

“kyky…” you called him. he was washing his face in your shared bathroom and when he heard his name he stopped doing everything that he was doing at the moment and he got his focus all on you.

“is everything okay baby?”

“when are you coming to bed?” you asked him a little apprehensive.

“why? is everything okay? are you hurt?” he sounded worried.

you wanted to play this good.

“my back hurts a bit…” you said.

the moment you said you were in pain he closed the bathroom door and he joined you on the bed.

“do you want me to give you a massage?” he asked you softly.

“please…”

“okay mon amour, turn around…” he whispered helping you laying flat on the bed. before you could do that you removed your t-shirt remaining in your bra. that drove kylian crazy but he pretended everything was okay. you saw the look in his eyes and you knew he was feeling as horny as you, you were both to stupid to admit it like two freaking teenagers.

“tell me where it hurts babe…” he asked you softly.

you showed him the spot that was near your shoulders and his delicate hands started massaging right there.

it felt like heaven having kylian’s hands on your body once again.

you couldn’t help the soft moans of pleasure that escaped your mouth. you could basically feel kylian’s erection on your ass and since you knew how bad you both wanted this you started moving your hips in his direction making him groan.

“mon ange…are you sure?” he asked you softly.

you turned around to look him in the eyes and he basically could tell just from your look how horny you were.

“please…it’s been too long kyky…i need to feel you again”

“okay mon amour okay…just let me know if it hurts okay? i’m gonna stop, i want you to be comfortable and not in any pain…” he said kissing your cheek.

“okay baby…now, would you please fuck me?”

he smiled and his hands began to work on your shorts. removing them and tossing them away. you were left in your bra and panties and just by looking down there he could tell how wet you were for him. he decided to leave your bra on, knowing how sensitive your breasts were he didn’t want to hurt you but that didn’t stopped him from leaving soft love kisses to one on each of them.

“is this all for me baby?” he asked you when his fingers gently touched your panties.

“yes kyky” you said.

he softly kissed your thighs, getting closer and closer where you needed him the most. he removed your panties, leaving you naked in front of him, but your insecurities started to flow your mind, knowing how much your body changed in these past months, all the rolls and stretch marks that you had now, everything was making you feel self conscious and kylian sensed it.

“you’re beautiful mon amour” he kissed your stomach “the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my life, i love you so so much…” he kissed your stomach once again “i love you and your beautiful body, can’t believe someone is as strong as you, you kept our baby safe here…i love you so much” he kissed you once again on the lips this time. the kiss was full of love and passion.

“now, let me show you how thankful i am for you baby girl” he said while his thumb started working on your clit.

that was enough to make you moan loud.

“i wanna hear more of this” he said while stretching you out with one of his fingers.

“oh shit kylian…”

“does that make you feel good?” kylian asked you.

“shit…yes keep going” you said while he started moving his finger faster, in and out of you. you were honestly embarrassed that it took you only a few minutes to come.

“oh fuck…” you moaned as you came around kylian’s fingers.

“how bad did you needed that?” he asked you.

“bad, really bad…” you breathed out.

he smiled at you, kissing your neck and collarbone, leaving bites and soft marks.

your hands went through his shorts and when you touched him you could practically feel his dick twitching in your hands. you proceeded to remove his shorts and his boxers, leaving him completely naked in front of you.

“i need you kylian please…” you brought his cock between your folds, showing him how much you were ready for him.

he slowly thrusted in you, feeling how tight you were he didn’t want to hurt you and once he was fully inside of you he waited a few minutes to let you adjust to his length. he started thrusting in you slowly, pressing his lips to yours, wanting to distract you in case you were in pain. truth was you were already a moaning mess, you both were trying to keep it low to not wake your baby’s up.

“oh god kylian right there please…” you moaned when he hit that special spot inside of you.

he started going harder and faster, hitting your spot over and over and that was enough to make you cum for the second time that night.

“oh my - kylian…” you came loud.

he followed you a few seconds later, spilling inside of you a letting some of his cum drip onto your thighs. he proudly looked at the mess you both made and smirked.

you took time to catch your breath again and when you opened your eyes again you saw kylian watching you with lovey eyes.

“are you okay baby?” he asked you and you nodded “was i too rough? did i hurt you?”

“no baby, it was perfect…” you smiled at him.

he was happy to hear that.

he cleaned you up, dressed you in one of his huge t-shirt and helped you laying back on your bed while his hands caressed your hair.

“goodnight my love” he whispered to you when he felt you were already asleep.

you fell asleep thinking about him, thinking about the man that saved your life that day before valentine’s day and how, from that day you became inseparable.

[pilfappreciator]

floyd with a bold and flirty husb male reader headcanons <333

Mans was literally tortured and almost died. LET HIM HAVE A HUBBY I SAY!!

Floyd x Reader: just an emo and his husband

Includes: Male! Reader, fluff, slight angst, depictions of marriage/domesticity, LOTS of down bad behavior (mostly on Reader's end), mentioned John Dory

💔 You guys are literally married, so chances are Floyd cares for you deeply. He's been to hell and back in the past few years so finally having someone in his life who so easily helps ease that pain by just... existing in his general area??

💔 But you're not some rabid fan who paid a fortune just to come meet him backstage so he could sign a poster. You're his HUSBAND. The two of you have HISTORY. Like he actually MARRIED your ass... there was a wedding and vows and EVERYTHING!!

💔 He's more grateful than you'll ever know <33

💔 With that being said, this man definitely gets flustered whenever you start putting the moves on him

💔 Not to say he doesn't know how to be suave and charming himself, don't get me wrong! He was in a super popular boy band back in the day, so obviously he's got SOME semblance of game going on (definitely feel like Bruce tried to teach his brothers how to bag hotties when they were younger ajshjakaak—)

💔 So yeah, he's obviously gonna react differently whenever you're the one giving him compliments lol

💔 If you're being more like? Playfully flirty?? Like as in you're coming over and leaning up against the wall beside him, giving him appreciative glances and flirting as if you've never met before???

💔 He's either gonna match your energy and reciprocate, or just sigh and roll his eyes

💔 "Hey sexy, come here often?" *bites lip*

"Please stop blocking the door to the bathroom 🙄"

💔 He'll act like he hates it he does not

💔 But he DOES hate if you smack his ass tho okay DO NOT DO IT!! He'll start having flashbacks from his Brozone days (cough cough John Dory cough cough)

💔 HOWEVER!!! If you're very genuine in your flirting? Like if you're constantly waxing poetic about how he's the most beautiful man to exist, or he catches you staring adoringly when he's trying to have a conversation with you, or he wakes up one morning to find you with the softest look in your eyes as you tell him how lucky you are to have him and how you could never be more grateful to have met????

💔 This man is turning the same shade of his hair VERY QUICKLY ALSDHLKAJDS (he might require medical attention ://)

💔 If you wanna fluster this man even more? Flirt with him in public

💔 NO CUZ LIKE?? He'll tolerate your bad pickup lines and cheesy romantic gestures in the comfort of your shared home no problem, but if you pull ANY of that shit where OTHER TROLLS CAN SEE????

💔 Screw Velvet and Veneer, call him pookie bear around any of his brothers and you're gonna be writing his obituary cuz this man WILL DIE

💔 But if you smack is ass at the farmers market you ARE getting divorced ://

💔 I feel like after the whole "being imprisoned in a diamond prison and regularly getting the life siphoned outta you for who knows how long" situation, Floyd becomes a little touch starved

💔 Maybe not in a strong sense (COUGH COUGH John Dory COUGH COUGH), but any sorta non-harmful touch definitely starts to hit different after you've been tortured for a period of time

💔 As his husband, you have a duty to hug/cuddle/caress this man as much as possible okay THAT IS NON-NEGOTIABLE!! Gently wrap your arms around him from behind as he's washing dishes, nuzzle his face when you're going to bed, rub your thumb against the back of his palm whenever you're holding hands, ANYTHING!!! He will melt <33

AHHHHH MY FAVORITE EMO!! THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT ANON THIS WAS SO CUTEE!! Floyd literally DIED in the movie okay, he deserves a husband to do troll taxes with 🥺

[tangerinesilk]

domestic!tangerine headcanons ♡

rating ✷ all ages!

tropes ✷ major fluff and only fluff, established relationship, mean to everyone else but you, golden retriever!gf x black cat!bf

warnings ✷ not many -- just trying to be tooth-rotting adorable! if anything bullet train deserved more soft!tangerine okay so let me fill that void.

word count ✷ 500+ (very short)

a/n ✷ i wanna say thank you to the huge attention my fic gained. i was really nervous it was gonna flop since it was my first for tangerine / just a different fandom. so i hope to write some more <3 once again, feedback is always welcomed and send any ideas!

❥ tangerine is a sucker for hugs from behind him. you wrap your arms around his torso and lay your head against his back. his heartbeat is the only thing you can hear & you feel so close to each other and safe－ especially after he's been away for a long time.

❥ calling you love, darling, babe. any cute pet name just rolls off the tongue with his accent. he'll say, "c'mhere, love." or "darling, what's goin' on?" and comfort you with open arms.

❥ sometimes, he'll lay his head on your lap and you'll run your fingers through his soft curls. tangerine would never admit how good it actually feels, but it's also comforting after a long, hard day.

❥ when the two of you cuddle in bed, he actually likes being the small spoon. you'll run your fingers through his soft curls, his head on your chest, and you'll massage his scale. you trace your hand down his toned back and it makes him fall into a deep sleep.

❥ he'll put on music while he's cooking a meal. you giggle at how he sways his hips, moving around the kitchen in rhythm. you'll sit at the counter or table and enjoy the little show he puts on in his west ham t-shirt and grey sweatpants.

❥ tangerine remembers how you take your coffee/tea. of course, he does with other food and drinks, but you know you need to start off your day with your specific morning beverage of choice and he never fails at the measurements.

❥ you have matching rings. they're gold and not too chunky. they have either your initials or dates of significance on them. both of you wear them often but the two of you either play with them or are more aware of them when he's away.

❥ he just has a sense of if you're having a rough day. you'll be talking over the phone on the way home, and he can sense your tone. next thing when you walk through the door, your favorite meal or snacks will be displayed on the kitchen counter.

❥ tangerine looks at you like the first time he fell in love with you. his blue eyes gloss over, shimmering in awe, at you whether you're wearing a nice fitted cocktail dress or the same pajamas you wore two days ago. he thinks the world of you.

❥ he pulls you over when there's space between you on the couch. he can be silly, just tickling at your ankles and calves before pulling you over. you play his game and either straddle his hips or lay your legs over his lap while you watch tv.

❥ after a mission/heist, tangerine will show you the 'vacation pictures' he manages to take on his free time. some will be with him alone, others with lemon that they take in front of historical sites or cafes they enjoy. goofballs they are.

❥ bonus: his heart swells when you tell him to 'be careful'. with his occupation of choice, it's easy for your mind to wander so doesn't matter where he is, you'll always say it to him and he reassures you with a smile that he knows

[voylitscope]

Stucky Recs: Holiday fics

December is here, so I've gathered twelve holiday Stucky fics to make this rec post for all of you. They're all perfect for reading under a blanket with the warm beverage of your choice.

Canon Holiday fics

❄️Paper tree | Ellessey | Explicit | 21,391 words

I don't know if it's just me, but I feel like pre-war fluff always has this extra softness to it, even more, somehow, than even the softest and sweetest of AUs. It just hits different. This wonderfully warm and feel-good holiday fic is such a perfect example of what I mean. Steve and Bucky are so sweet to, and about, each other in this fic, and I adore it. This one is also broken up into scenes that happen on different days as December goes on. I always enjoy that sort of formatting so much in a holiday fic, and, in this case, it also gives a whole month of delightful, endearing, and lovely pre-war moments.

Quote:

"It's a different taste, though! I want the authentic Mallo experience, in drink form." "It's coconut. The different taste is coconut. We could make it ourselves." Bucky's face lights up, and Steve adds another thing to his mental list of ways he can make those blue eyes get all happy and bright. He thinks about how many things he's not good at, how many things are so hard for him, but seem easy for everyone else with their perfectly functioning hearts, lungs, ears, and eyes. And he thinks about how easy it's always been for him to make Bucky happy. Doesn't even seem like he has to try, but he likes to try anyway. He drops another marshmallow in his own mug, and two in Bucky's, and thinks he could probably spend the whole rest of his life just trying and trying and trying.

❄️On the other end of the line | velleities | Teen | 9,385 words |

So, okay, only the last part of this fic takes place on Christmas. This fic does go through the rest of the year, too. But I feel like the Christmas-set resolution is significant enough to make this one solidly a holiday fic. It's also a gorgeous fic. It's a Post-TWS recovery fic that makes plenty of time for how not-okay Steve is, something I always really appreciate. Like I said, this fic takes them through a year, a Bucky-recovery year, and the growth and rediscovery of their relationship in that year is so well done. It's sometimes heartbreaking and sometimes sweet and always beautiful. I know calling a 9k fic a slow burn is debatable, so I won't say this is a slow burn. But I will say, that by the time this fic is done, these two have really earned their happy and romantic resolution.

Quote:

He can’t hold up a conversation. He doesn’t want Bucky to go – he craves his company – but he’s too drained to think of anything to say. He resorts to just feeling pitiful for himself, breathing in and out and listening to Bucky breathing in and out in return. “D’you want to hang up?” Bucky asks gently. “No,” Steve says hurriedly. “Okay.” Twenty minutes later, Steve is slowly drifting into sleep. “Steve?”   “Mm?” Steve mumbles into the phone, cradling it as if cradling Bucky. “G’night.” “G’night, Buck,” he manages drowsily. Steve somehow sleeps through the night.

❄️I got that good thing for you | canistakahari | Explicit | 5,830 words

You know that correct version of things where, these days, Steve and Bucky live in a nice brownstone in Brooklyn? And awful things have stopped happening to Bucky? And the events of Infinity War and Endgame definitely never occurred? And Steve and Bucky are really happy and super in love? Right. This fic happens in that world, and I love it. This is just so cozy and domestic. It's so low-stakes and so romantic. It's a holiday fic, and it's a fic about just how much Steve loves both making Bucky happy and seeing Bucky happy. It's also a fic about Bucky wanting to get the aesthetic exactly right for a specific sex fantasy. And honestly? They deserve that. We, as a fandom, deserve that. This fic is a joy.

Quote:

“I’ve spent a lot of time looking at pictures of other people's Christmas lights.” Bucky extricates himself from his blanket nest and walks right up to Steve, puts a hand on his chest, and kisses him firmly on the mouth. He is solid and soft at the same time, his hair carrying the faint scent of wood smoke and cold air from the tree farm. “I'll get your lights,” mumbles Steve against his lips. Bucky grins. “Yeah. I’ll make you cookies.” Oh. Oh, Steve didn’t realize it was a trade. It doesn’t have to be, but Bucky is offering. “What kind?” “Whatever kind you want,” says Bucky. He slides his hands down Steve’s chest, fingers tucked into the top of Steve’s jeans. “Even if you want nuts in them.” Steve cocks his head. Bucky doesn’t make cookies often, but whenever he does, Steve counts every single one of his blessings. Bucky will eat two or three and then leave the rest to Steve to devour, which he does, often within the first twelve hours of them appearing. The whole batch.

❄️Home is the Human Heart | aimmyarrowshigh @aimmyarrowshigh | Teen | 3,194 words

This fic parallels two years: one in during the post-TWS recovery era and one when Steve and Bucky are young. The scenes go back and forth between the two years in a way that really sets this fic's tone. It's beautifully done, and there's a touch of a really lovely bittersweetness that never takes away from the warmth, joy, or hopefulness of this fic. I also really, really love how Steve goes about things, with and for Bucky, in the current era scenes. Also! This fic has a line near the end that hit me hard when I first read it and that I still think about all the time.

Quote:

Rachel crawls out from under the table. Bucky gets the jar of pennies he and Becca have been collecting for the last year, and Becca gets the dreidel. Rachel’s eyes go wide at the sight of all the money. There’s probably fifty cents clanking around in the jar. “Steve, d’you remember how to play?” Bucky asks. “Of course.” Steve sounds affronted. “How many years’ve I been losing to you, ya lousy cheat?” “You can’t cheat at dreidel,” Bucky says, laughing. “Punk.” “Jerk.” “I don’t know how!” Rachel says. She kicks Bucky’s knee under the table. “I wanna play!”

❄️Two strangers in the bright lights | Claudia_flies | Explicit | 7,348 words

Listen, listen. It's a holiday fic! It's a post-TWS recovery fic! It's a tower fic! It's a fake dating fic! It's a damn delight, and you should read it. The love-struck, dopey-eyed, total disaster about each other, antics happening throughout this fic are just wonderful, truly. Bucky spends about 85% of this fic practically on Steve's lap . To make the fake dating look real and fool the other Avengers, of course. (Obviously, we need to do it this way, Steve! It has to be convincing, Steve!) And Steve spends about 85% of this fic absurdly happy about Bucky doing just that, and also noticing that doing these things seems to make Bucky happy, and then being even happier because Bucky is happy — but then not examining that too closely, because, you know, Bucky is clearly just really good at this plan and super committed to it. A joy of a fic that's so much fun to read.

Quote:

Steve finds the tablet discarded among the multitude of cushions on the couch while waiting for their new French press to finish brewing, and as soon as he touches the screen, it opens on a web page titled ‘10 Cute Holiday Winter Dates To Go On With Your Boyfriend’ written in an obnoxiously cutesy script. The first one on the list is ice skating, and the next one is decorating the tree together. Each bullet point is accompanied by a cheap stock photo and some inane text about why this particular date is suitable for a cute winter romance. Gently, Steve closes the tablet and carefully places it back where he found it. He pours the coffee into two matching mugs and carries them into the still-dark bedroom. Bucky mumbles something resembling a “thank you” from underneath several pillows and most of the covers as Steve places the steaming cup on his bedside table. Steve smiles and climbs back into the bed, sitting up against the headboard with his coffee and a book. It’s probably the most perfect Sunday morning he’s had in a lifetime.

❄️(I'll be home for Christmas) if only in my dreams | crinklefries | Teen | 13,728 words

A 5+ 1 that looks at 5 earlier holidays, but starts and ends on the current one, one that Steve and Bucky are spending together, in Wakanda. It's an emotional gut punch of a fic, in the best and most satisfying of ways. I love the holidays this fic chooses to showcase, the little stories it chooses to tell, and the moments it chooses to share. I love the wonderfully sweet holiday tradition it creates for Steve and Bucky. I love the way that tradition becomes something that is so important and so meaningful that they're able to keep it, even when it should have been impossible. Really gorgeous stuff.

Quote:

For the first time since his capture, Bucky feels safe. They’re in a fucking goddamn ditch killing fucking goddamn Nazis on fucking goddamn Christmas, but Bucky can hear Steve’s heart beat, strong and steady under his ear, and he feels safe. Maybe because it’s Christmas day, but there are no shots fired. It’s mostly quiet, the group of them in their respective ditches, tensed, just waiting. Someone--Dugan, he thinks, or maybe Gabe Jones--starts singing a Christmas song and then the rest of the start singing too. Steve’s never had much of a singing voice, but he tries and Bucky tries not to smile.

AU Holiday Fics

☃️'tis the damn season | chicklette | Explicit | 4,625 words

A fic about a Steve and Bucky who grew up together, were together as teenagers, and who, if they're being honest, have been in love their whole lives. But they're adults now, and they refuse to hold each other back. This a general premise that comes up decently often in Stucky AUs, and I'm typically into it for them. I can see these two and their stubborn, self-sacrificing ways, each deciding that they were the thing stopping the other from a goal/plan/the general idea of growing up. It's a very specific sort of exes-to-lovers story, and it leads to a very specific feelings reveal, one that's not "I'm in love with you," but instead, "I've never gotten even a little bit over you." It's something that can work so well for these two, sometimes, and this fic is an example of it being done just absolutely gorgeously. It's warm and painful and sexy all at once — until its wonderfully romantic resolution.

Quote:

Steve’s hair is a little long on top, and he’s rocking a scruffy beard, and fuck him for looking so goddamned good. It isn’t fair, Bucky thinks, mixing the drink. It isn’t fair that he looks so fucking good, that he looks exhausted and stressed out and kind of sad, and he’s still the best thing Bucky’s ever seen. It isn’t fair that Steve shows up every year at Christmas and it is Christmas, it’s a fucking gift and Bucky looks forward to it all damn year, but this year there was a little dread too because every year it takes him a little longer to let go.

☃️I've got a lot to pine about | cable-knit-sweater @cable-knit-sweater | Mature | 6,113 words

I just love a fic about people who are having Totally Very Casual sex, and who are both convinced they are the only person in this situation who has developed feelings. A fic about people who are pining while actively hooking up. 10/10. Great trope. This fic is that trope, used at Christmas, and it's wonderful. There are so many feelings! There are ridiculously cute seasonal activities! There are sweet holiday gestures! There are two absolute idiots in love, being painfully obvious about how in love they are — while both being certain, just completely convinced, that the other is definitely only here for the casual sex! There is a romantic holiday resolution! Just a complete delight.

Quote:

Once they get there, though, he forgets about his worries and actually has a good time. There’s a small Christmas market, a stall with hot chocolate and apple cider, and he’s surrounded by his friends. Even Steve seems to be feeling a little better about the whole festive season, and Bucky likes to think he played a hand in that.  What makes it all even better is that Steve is wearing the earmuffs Bucky bought him. He looks ridiculously cute, like Bucky’d expected. The fact that Nat tells Steve he looks cute and makes him blush and grumble a little annoyedly, makes it absolutely perfect.  At some point, he doesn’t get away with just staying on the sidelines and sipping his hot chocolate, and Steve drags him onto the ice. He must notice how Bucky is a little nervous.  “I’ll hold your hand?” Steve offers. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall. I got you.”

☃️If Only in My Dreams | odetteandodile | Teen | 28,317 words

A holiday rom-com. A joy. Sweet, trope-filled, funny, and so very romantic. This fic has a Hallmark Channel-worthy premise in the most fun and most wonderful way. I am a firm supporter of Steve and Bucky getting to have a rom-com life. Instead of, you know, the relentless tragedy of canon. I also really enjoy that, unlike many actual Hallmark Movies, the central conflict continuing to be a conflict throughout the fic is completely believable and understandable. And then, when we get to the end, it's all resolved in such a satisfying (and romantic! and lovely!) way.

Quote:

He’s been so good today, so laser-focused on taking Sam’s advice to heart and throwing his all into his work—into cementing this dream he’s been working toward for nearly three years. It was steadying to apply himself to the tangible things he could make and do, utterly rooted in reality. But the thing is—Steve is real. He may look like a fantasy somebody invented to torture Bucky this week, but he’s a flesh-and-blood person. And he’s looking back at Bucky like Bucky is the dream guy. Bucky doesn’t make a move to step any closer. All of his words and common sense have abandoned him. So he just stands with his heart hammering foolishly against his ribs at the edge of the room. Steve doesn’t look away. But after a moment he squares his shoulders and stands, his full height and broad chest emphasized under the cut of his uniform, light glinting off the medals and ribbons on his coat.

☃️Whose arms will hold you | biblionerd07 | Gen | 10,843 words

The first of two fics on this list to feature a holiday road trip home from college, a snowstorm, and, yes, only one bed. This one is a meet-cute, and wow, is it cute. Seriously, this fic is just so, so very sweet. When I was pulling this list together, I quickly reread over this fic and hit a moment that made my breath catch when I remembered what was about to happen. It's a moment that made me think, "Oh god, that's right. This is that fic!" And then my heart did a fluttery thing. Also, we've got an alive and well Sarah Rogers in this one, and the conversations Steve has with her are just as lovely and delightful as everything else about this fic.

Quote:

"I didn't realize you were trying to impress me." "Why wouldn't I be?" James says, arching an eyebrow in a way that makes Steve's stomach lurch a little. Is James flirting with him? He can feel his cheeks heating up a little. James is apparently oblivious to his internal turmoil, because he goes to his duffel and roots around. He emerges with a pack of cards. "Wanna play?" Steve doesn't know how to play poker. But James doesn't know how to play gin, so they're sort of at an impasse until Steve says, "Well…what about Go Fish?" And that's how two grown college-students end up playing Go Fish on a dusty motel bedspread, eating apple pie that tastes a little old but not terrible.

☃️Not the same river at my fingertips | giselleslash | Expicit | 11,021 words

And now the second road-trip-home-from-college-for-the-holidays (but then a snowstorm! And a motel room!) fic on my list. This one is not a random ride-share meet-cute. This one is about a Steve and Bucky who had a one-night stand years ago, and who haven't stopped thinking about each other since. But: miscommunication. So they're both pretty sure the other has never given them a second thought. But it's fine because they're both totally okay about that. They're very mature about it, okay? They can handle this road trip without any weird tension. They definitely won't make things worse by talking about the thing where they're each convinced the other doesn't like spending time with them. And the combination of the tension, the memory of their one-night stand, and the fact that they're both, actually, obsessed with each other will absolutely not lead to anything at all when they have to get a motel room to wait out a snowstorm. Not even when there is, of course, only one bed.

Quote:

“You’ve brought me a truly beautiful feast.” Bucky laughed at that and Steve instantly felt a hundred percent warmer than he had before. Even Bucky’s fucking laugh was sexy. It was horrible. Bucky had slipped off his boots and grabbed two of the plastic cups from the small tray that held them and an ice bucket. “Gimme,” he said as he waved his fingers at the bottle of tequila Steve still had clutched in his hand for some reason. He handed over the tequila and Bucky crawled onto the bed with it. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed and patted the mattress next to him. “Bring the food and hop on,” he said. Steve got the food containers and did just that.

Bonus:

⛄Here Comes Santa Claus | AidaRonan | Explicit | 6,755 words

So, as I've mentioned before, I hesitate to include recs for fics that are primarily smut (and very, very little plot) on these themed rec lists. Mostly because primarily smut fics are just sorta their own thing. That is a theme. But. I'm making an exception, because truly, you guys, here in Stucky we've got fics for so many scenarios. There is just fic for a seemingly endless amount of scenarios. For instance, there's this one. It's Santa Steve fic about, well, Steve, as Santa (but looking like Steve!), repeatedly visiting (an adult!) Bucky on Christmas, and it eventually leading to sex in Santa's sleigh. And, really, I've gotta say, I love that for us. I love that this fic exists. So I felt like I had to include it with these holiday recs. Even if it very much is primarily smut.

Quote:

“You’re standing under the mistletoe,” Bucky says, and Steve looks up. “Huh. How ‘bout that,” he says, before going back to his work. “What’s the rule if you’re under the mistletoe alone? Jerk off?” “Jesus, are you allowed to talk like that?” “I can talk however the fuck I want.” “Pretty harsh language from Santa Claus.” “Language is a construct like time and gender. And ‘fuck’ is really fun to say. Harsh consonants. So satisfying.” Santa slides a small gift box between branches in the tree. “Besides, no one but you is awake to hear me.”

Happy holidays!

Fic Rec Series

[finnsbubblegum]

First Birthday (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah. 

Summary: Pov: You and Joel prepared to celebrate baby Sarah’s first birthday together.

Words count: 1.5k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 6 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm beyond happy that many of you liked it so I hope you enjoy the next parts. Stay tuned and love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Thank God Joel still treated you the same way before he confessed his love to you that night. You acted like nothing happened and he did the same. 

“Thank you for walking me home, Joel.” Joel always walked you home even though your house was exactly next to his.

“Anytime, darlin’.” This was the second time he called you darling. Your heart jumped.

“I-uh-I forgot to tell you. Sarah’s birthday is coming. I was wondering if we could celebrate together.” He put his hand behind his neck.

“Oh really? It’s her first birthday! We should hold a party!” You jumped excitedly.

“A party? I don’t know (y/n). I mean-I don’t have anyone to invite beside my brother.” Joel put his hands in his pocket.

“I can invite my friends from the cafe. Let’s give Sarah the best first birthday ever. She deserves it.” You bumped Joel on the upper arm.

“Yeah, she deserves the best.” Joel nodded.

“So, what should we do?” He crossed his arms.

“I’ll think about it and we can talk about it again tomorrow.” 

“Okay. Thanks. Good night, darlin’.” Joel kissed your cheek.

“Good night, Joel.” You kissed him back.

You shrieked as you closed the door. Joel Miller just called you darling. After what you said to him and he still called you darling? His words made you sway. And the kiss on the cheek felt different. Joel kissed your cheek every night but today definitely felt different. It felt more loving if you had to describe it. Was it because he called you darling? Was it because he was still nice to you even though you broke his heart? Then you remembered you told him that you weren’t ready for a relationship. You were the one who asked him not to fall in love with you but why were you swayed now? You hit your head to get a grip of yourself. You spent your night thinking about how you could make Sarah’s birthday special. You took out your notebook and wrote your ideas about the cake design, colors, decorations and everything. Trying to neglect your thoughts about how perfect Joel was.

It was another day and you prepared dinner at Joel’s house just like usual. You and Joel had dinner together almost every night since you babysat Sarah. Either you cooked for the two of you, ordered deliveries, Joel brought takeouts, or ate out. But tonight you decided to cook. 

“You’re home early.” You turned to look at Joel who just got home from work.

“Today was peaceful.” He chuckled.

“Dinner will be ready in 10. So you can take a shower first, sir.” You bowed, acting like a maid.

“I’ll be back.” Joel chuckled as he shook his head at your joke.

*10 minutes later*

Joel went down the stairs looking fresh after a shower.

“Smells good.” Joel sniffed.

“You always said that.” You scoffed.

“I’m being honest.” Joel glared at you.

“Well, thank you.” You smiled.

You and Joel dug in and ate the meal you cooked.

“So, I’ve got some ideas for Sarah’s first birthday party.” You took out your notebook.

“Uh-huh. What do you got?” 

“I was thinking of a pink themed kind of birthday party. What do you think?” You squinted your eyes.

“Hmm, how about purple? I’m seeing Sarah as a purple girl.” Joel voted purple.

“Yes sir. Purple it is.” You wrote purple on your notebook.

“About the cake, I have talked to my baker and he has this amazing design in mind. You’ll love it.” 

“I’ll leave it to you, miss.” 

Sarah’s Birthday D-1

You and Joel decorated the house with purple flowers and purple balloons. You used helium for the balloon so it could fly to the ceilings. 

"Never meant to cause you any sorrow~"

Joel sang as he held the balloon pumper as a microphone near his mouth. 

You turned your head right away as you heard a high-pitched voice singing. 

"Seriously?" You put your hands to your waist staring at him. 

"Never meant to cause you any pain" Joel closed his eyes and continued singing.

You inhaled some of the helium and jumped to the couch. 

"I only wanted to one time to see you laughing.."  

You sang and Joel stopped because he was impressed by you.

"I only wanted to see you in the purple rain" 

You started to sing like a real singer on the stage but you were just on Joel's couch. 

"Purple rain

Purple rain" 

Joel inhaled another helium and sang with you together. The two of you burst into laughter. You couldn't stop laughing, your stomach hurts.

"Okay, okay. Stop it. My stomach hurts from laughing." You pressed your stomach. 

"I didn't know you like Prince." You bumped Joel's arm.

"Purple rain is like my jam." Joel squinted his eyes.

"Wait, did you choose purple because of the song? Purple as in purple rain?" You furrowed your brows confused as you joined the dots. He shrugged.

"I..may have chosen purple because of purple rain." He admitted. 

"You're sooo predictable." You shook your head and poked his chest with your index finger.

D-day

The birthday cake was big and purple. It was a two tier cake with pearls and sparkly butterflies around it. You thanked your baker for making Sarah a beautiful birthday cake. 

Sarah wore a purple dress with a purple bow tie bandana headband around her head. You and Joel had bought them a few days ago at the mall. 

"Happy birthday, you cute little girl!" One of your employees from the cafe shook her little hand gently. 

"Whoaa, who is this pretty little girl here?" Another friend from your cafe came to her while baby Sarah was in Joel's arms. 

"Happy birthday, purple girl." Flo came and stroked her head. 

"Say thank you, babygirl." Joel bounced Sarah and she babbled. 

"You're welcome." Flo gave you a gift box for Sarah and you put it on the table piled with presents. 

Everyone was happy to celebrate Sarah's birthday. They were like a second family to her. She spent every day with them and you at the cafe. And they loved her too. 

“Hey, you old fucker. And hey there you, babygirl. Happy birthday, my sweet little niece.” An unfamiliar man approached the two of you and kissed baby Sarah’s head.

“Tommy!” Joel hugged his younger brother.

“(y/n), this is Tommy, my younger brother. Tommy this is (y/n). She’s uh-she’s my neighbor. She’s the one who came up with all of these.” Joel introduced you to Tommy and pointed around the house.

“Hi, Tommy. I’m (y/n). Nice to meet you. Joel helped a lot too.” You shook Tommy’s hand.

“So you guys-uh-together?” Tommy asked.

“We’re neighbors.” You answered and Joel nodded.

“Okay. If you want to say it that way. I’m sure you guys are more than that anyways.” Tommy raised both of his opened palms in the air. 

“Okay, now I’m gonna mingle and see if I can talk to that pretty girl.” Tommy walked away and talked to a girl, who was apparently to be Flo. 

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” You chuckled.

“Well, you know about it now.” Joel kissed Sarah’s cheek.

“He seems..” You pouted as you were looking for the right word.

“Friendly. Very much friendly.” You smirked.

“Yep, he is.” 

“Why don’t we gather everyone and sing happy birthday?” You rested your hand at Joel’s shoulder then to Sarah’s head.

"Everyone! Joel here has something to say." You gathered everyone's attention.

"What? I thought you were the one who-" Joel whispered to you and bumped your arm.

"Shh.. come on do the speech." You whispered back to him. 

"I didn't prepare anythin'." He panicked.

"You can do it. Come on." You patted his back. 

"Hi-uh-I'm Joel. I'm sure you all know Sarah. She's turning one today. Thank you for takin' care of her every day at the cafe. I really appreciate it. You are all a second family to her. Why don't we-uh-sing happy birthday to my little girl?" Joel was sweating. You could see it dripping to the back of his neck but you just chuckled. You found him cute this way.

*Everyone started to sing*

Joel sang half way and he stopped singing so you turned to him. His eyes were locked to a woman who just came into the house. She was his ex-wife and her current boyfriend. 

"Joel.." You stroked his upper arm. 

"Hold Sarah for me?" He passed Sarah to your arms. 

"Okay." You took her from his arms and held her, bouncing her a bit. 

Joel sighed as he walked towards his ex-wife. He didn't let her see Sarah. He dragged her outside the house avoiding everyone to see the drama that would happen. 

"Everything's gonna be okay, baby. Your dad got this. Let's just be happy and celebrate your birthday. Today's your special day." You talked to baby Sarah and kissed her forehead.

To be continued…

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

[jimsbeetroot]

hey! love ur writing, id like to request a paul x reader fic c: don’t have any specific ideas but maybe just a little fluff, angst, and smut thrown together 😁

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 ♱ 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲

warnings! panic attacks, anxiety, comfort sex, best friends turned lovers, abusive relationship, domestic violence! I did what I could!

-

You sat on the edge of your bed in the small hotel room, your heart pounding in your chest. The tour bus rumbled softly outside, ready to carry you to the next city. You glanced at the clock on the nightstand, counting down the minutes until they had to leave.

You stood up and went to the bathroom. There, a bony figured stared back at you. A figure in pain. A tired figure.

You turned on the faucet and splashed some ice cold water in your face, hoping for that to wake you up, but you stayed completely the same.

Your best friend from childhood, Paul, had come back to Iowa for a week or so, and found you in a state of misery. You were living, rather squatting, with your now ex-boyfriend who had a thing for beating you to bloody pulp, treating you like a mutt, making you feel so worthless. Until the day, Paul walked in your doors, grabbed your hand and pulled you straight out of that place, not once thinking about what to do with you. He just knew, you had to get out of there. The situation was sticky, because Paul was going on tour with Slipknot. He’d insisted she join him, not wanting her to be alone in such a state.

You were hesitant at first, worried about being a burden, but Paul was patient and kind. He’d been there for you since childhood, when the world felt already dark and unforgiving.

You’d been fucked from the start. Raised by two parents, who did not deserve the title at all. But Paul, he’d been your light in the dark and for that, you were forever grateful.

A soft knock on the door broke through your thoughts. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and called out, “Come in.”

Paul stepped inside, his towering frame almost filling the doorway. His dark hair was slicked back by his sunglasses and he wore a casual band t-shirt and jeans. Despite his imposing appearance, his eyes were gentle, filled with concern.

“Hey,” he said softly, closing the door behind him. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your eyes were damp with unshed tears. “Yeah, just...nervous, I guess.”

Paul sat beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. He ran his fingers over your cheekbone, where a bruise left by your unforgiving ex-boyfriend was slowly fading away. “I get it. This is all new for you. But I’m glad you’re here.”

You offered a small smile, grateful for his presence. “Thanks for inviting me. I know it’s not easy, having me tag along.”

“Are you kidding?” Paul chuckled, a warmth in his voice. “Having you here makes it better for me, too. I’ve missed you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. You’d known each other for so long, and though Paul had always been there to support, he’d never expected anything in return.

The thought of leaving your old life behind had been terrifying, but with Paul, it felt possible.

“Come on,” Paul said, standing up and offering his hand. “The guys are waiting. You’ll love the show.”

You hesitated, then took his hand. His grip was firm and reassuring, anchoring you to the present. Together, you made your way to the tour bus, where the rest of the band was waiting. The atmosphere was lively, the band members joking and chatting as they prepared for the journey ahead.

Paul kept you close, introducing her to the crew and making sure she felt comfortable. They, of course, knew her situation and why she was tagging along on tour. They met her with such kindness, it was hard to understand that such intimidating appearances could be so kind.

The first stop on the tour was a city you’d never been to before. The venue was packed with fans, the energy in the air electric. Paul had given you a backstage pass, allowing you to watch the performance from the wings.

As Slipknot took the stage, you were mesmerized. The music was raw and powerful, the crowd’s enthusiasm infectious. You watched Paul in his element, the passion and intensity in his playing captivating. Seeing him up there, so confident and alive, made you realise that this band was his haven. It was clear, that this was what he was born to do.

After the show, the band gathered in the green room, their adrenaline still high. Paul found you in the crowd, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“How was it?” he asked, his eyes bright with excitement. You were in awe of his excitement, though not in awe of his sweaty hug.

“Incredible,” you replied, breathless from the experience. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Paul grinned, clearly pleased. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. We’ve got a few days before the next gig. Maybe we can explore the city a bit?”

You nodded, feeling a sense of normalcy creeping in. With Paul by your side, you felt braver, ready to take on whatever challenges came your way.

---

The days passed in a blur of music and travel. You’d adjusted to life on the road, finding comfort in the routine. You spent her days exploring new cities, often with Paul as you guide. He showed you hidden gems that he’d found in a local tour guide flyer. A friendship had begun spurring between you and the rest of the band also. You sort of felt like a sister. Like, you had a place suddenly. A place that was yours.

Your connection to Paul had deepened, the friendship you’d always cherished evolving into something more. You’d found herself drawn to Paul, his presence a balm for your troubled mind. Yet, despite the growing intimacy, you held back, afraid of what might happen if you let herself fall completely.

You trusted Paul with everything, but you’d also trusted that ex-boyfriend of yours, but he’d failed you so badly that you didn’t know if you could ever trust again.

One night, as you sat on the rooftop of your hotel with Paul, the city lights sparkling below, you’d found the courage to voice her fears.

It was a cool summer evening. The two shared some bears, wrapped up in blankets and enjoying the sights of a city that’d gone to sleep.

“You seem like you’re enjoying the tour?” Paul asked and took a sip of his beer. You looked at him and smiled. “I am. I’m sad that it’s coming to an end,” you frowned. What were you gonna do when there was no tour and no Paul around you to keep you safe?

“You can just stay here, y’know? The guys love you, and I love having you around,” Paul smiled but Y/N sighed. You knew that you couldn’t flee forever. The emotions, which you felt for Paul were clearly two-sided. He placed a hand on your thigh.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

He turned to you, his expression serious. “Of what?”

“Of what this means,” you gestured between them, your heart racing. “Of what might happen if we take this further.”

Paul reached out, taking your hand in his and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Y/N, I’d never push you into anything you’re not ready for. But you have to know, I care about you. More than anything.”

The sincerity in his eyes took your breath away. For so long, you’d been afraid to trust, to open yourself up to the possibility of love, not having felt it even though she’d been in a relationship. But with Paul, it felt different. Safe.

“I care about you too,” you confessed, the weight of your words lifting a burden from your heart.

Paul smiled, his grip on your hand tightening. “Then let’s take it one day at a time. No pressure, no expectations. Just us.”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. You leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace.

---

As the tour continued, yours and Paul’s relationship blossomed. You shared laughter and late-night talks, bond growing even stronger with each passing day. You’d found joy in the small moments, like waking up to Paul’s sleepy smile or sharing a quiet cup of coffee before the chaos of the day began.

One night, after a particularly vivid nightmare, you woke up in your small hotel room, shaking in fear, barely able to contain your emotions.

You knew what to do. Who to go to. You sprung out of your bed exited the room. You crossed the hallway and knocked on Paul’s door. You waited and knocked again. You heard some scrambling around and the door opened, Paul’s tired face peeking out.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” He asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

“P-Paul,” you whispered.

“C-Can I maybe sleep with you? I had a nightmare and I really don’t want to be alone right now,” you hummed. Paul nodded immediately and grabbed your hand, leading you through his dark room, over to his bed where you both laid down. You crawled into his embrace and he rubbed your back, the two of you cuddled up so closely that there wasn’t room for much else.

You looked up at him. You hadn’t felt so safe for so long. It was a comforting embrace. You leaned in and placed a kiss on Paul’s soft lips. He pulled back, a little bewildered before smiling and pecking your lips back.

Your heart fluttered. This was the first time in a while that things had felt so right.

As the kiss intensified, you no longer felt the fear that you’d felt minutes ago. It had now been replaced by a far more superior feeling. Lust. You wanted to be with Paul and you could feel the burning sensation in your core.

Paul’s hands traced the curves of your body, feeling you up and down before finally letting his hand rest your asscheek, giving it a small squeeze.

He found the hem of your panties and moved his fingers down, tracing your clit through the soft fabric, a moan leaving your lips as his fingers pulled your panties to the side and made contact with your sensitive skin.

While he focused on making you feel comfortable, your hand went down and grabbed a hold of his cock, outside his boxers. He moaned at the sensation.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Paul choked out and inserted a finger, a small cry leaving your dry lips. Your hand was in his hair as the two of you rubbed against each other, sweaty bodies working together.

Paul’s hands found your waist and flipped you onto your back. He hovered over you and pulled down his boxers, his hard cock springing out.

He kissed you again, caressing your cheek while positioning himself at your entrance. “You’re on the pill, right?” He asked you. You nodded and smiled and with that, Paul drove into you, releasing a shaky moan as his hands immediately went to caress your face again.

You hugged him tightly, bringing him as close to you as humanly possible. It felt so good and god, he’d never get off, if it was up to you.

You whimpered into the crook of Paul’s neck, him doing the same as you followed each other’s rhythm, bringing each other closer and closer to the edge. A few thrusts later, and you were a moaning mess, clenching around Paul, him following just seconds after.

In the aftermath, you both lay intertwined with one another, completely amazed by one another.

“You have to know, I love you,” Paul said. Your cheeks flushed warm and red. You’d waited to hear those words. “I love you too,” she said, feeling utterly grateful to have such an amazing man by her side.