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matrixbearer2024 · 4 months

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Reunited Again Aren't We?

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Lololol I felt bad I left you guys on a cliffhanger in "Troubles Unforeseen" so here's Vox's POV to the whole thing. Bro already has minor panic episodes when you go inactive so let's see how he deals with the fact you're just entirely gone. Oh and this chapter will feature a bit of the iconic radio demon because trolling Vox will never be unfunny to me HAHAHAHA.

A/N: This interlude's gonna be a wild ride, it's also gonna have some lore dumps because of Lucifer lolol. Hence it is fucking LONG- Btw please send me ideas for Vox and Reader now that they've reunited in death. Fluffy, angsty, smutty, doesn't really matter hahaha, I'm still going for the slowburn btw so please keep that in mind XD ANYWAYS- I hope you guys enjoy this interlude and as always, happy reading!

There was something wrong.

Like, really really wrong.

At least to a certain technology overlord.

Vox just couldn't get rid of the sick feeling he had in his gut.

It had been just a few hours after you said you'd leave for the party.

Knowing that, he tried to just distract himself with his work and hoping the feeling would go away.

Only to find himself counting minutes as nothing seemed to change.

Against his better judgement, he found himself shooting you a quick message.

He was just checking in on you, no harm no foul right?

"Hey doll, how's the party?"

He stared at the phone for a bit, wishing you'd reply and quickly put his paranoia and nerves to rest.

Instead, Vox was quickly reminded that he had a broadcast in a few minutes by his secretary.

Fuck.

He just really couldn't shake that ominous feeling.

Despite that, he put on a charming smile and just went about his business.

Unfortunately, he'd lost track of time after getting swarmed up by work.

So it was only hours later that Vox was able to check back in on you.

And to his dismay, there was still nothing from your end.

You didn't even see his message.

He tries to convince himself that he's just being paranoid.

That there really wasn't anything wrong.

But as he was staring at the screens connected to your gadgets hoping for even just the slightest activity-

The one that showed your phone suddenly fizzled out into static and abhorrently loud white noise.

He recoiled from the loud noise before the panic finally settled in.

Vox had known you for almost two years-

And this hadn't happened once.

The screen where your phone's interface had once been just went back to being one of his typical monitors.

Displaying statistics, graphs, surveillance and whatnot.

The overlord quickly checked if he could still interact with your laptop and tablet and breathed a sigh of relief when he could.

Especially when he could still control that little desktop version he made in his likeness for you.

So, maybe things didn't entirely go to shit.

But still-

What fucking happened?!

He kinda goes off the walls blowing up your notifications or trying to get your attention through the devices he was still tied to.

Which only makes his anxiety worse when there's still no response from you at all.

At this point, it's been a few hours since you've completed dropped off the radar and Vox was just not having a great time.

Were you still at the party or something???

That was of course until a news article appeared as a notification on your laptop.

Vox knew he shouldn't have cared about it much, it was probably just another one of those internet clickbait things anyway.

Especially with the headline.

"Students Injured by Drunk Driver, One Dead"

Who wouldn't think that was an exaggerated story?

But something in the back of his mind demanded that he check it.

It was probably the paranoia filling up with just all the worst possible scenarios.

The overlord just shook his head, he'll check it just to prove to himself you weren't part of it.

Just anything that could tell him that you were okay.

But the second he opened the article to read through it-

Vox immediately felt his stomach drop.

He could immediately identify the bloodied individuals in the headline picture.

It was your group of friends that had gotten caught in that accident.

And it was you who'd gotten killed.

Seeing you bloodied and battered in the outfit you so proudly showed him mere hours ago made him feel downright horrid.

It was like he couldn't even breathe.

No-

No way!

It couldn't be, it was just someone that looked like you!

It had to be!

Was what the overlord tried to tell himself.

But when he scrolled down the page and saw your name written in the article as the one unfortunate death-

Vox knew for certain that he didn't see wrong.

The sick feeling he'd been getting was his instincts giving him a warning.

A warning he didn't heed.

And it costed you.

He sat there in his chair for a minute trying to process it all, especially when the overwhelming guilt finally hit.

Vox wasn't ever one to feel that way, especially in his ruthless line of work.

Not to mention how he generally is a cutthroat businessman who would do anything to get what he wanted.

But when it came to you, he felt immense regret for not having better painted his worry.

That he didn't tell you something felt really off.

It was a new kind of weight at the moment, especially when he was still shell shocked from the blitzkrieg of information.

And even if you still chose to go to the party-

He still could have warned you.

And that was a fact he couldn't let go.

Holding his screen in his hands, Vox just sat there trying to calm himself down.

He definitely couldn't just go back to work like this.

This was bad.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this kind of overwhelming anxiety.

Was that it?

Would he ever see you again?

Or had he lost you for good?

The overlord was about to kind of just let his emotions run it's course until another realization hit him.

It only popped up in his mind when he saw some random surveillance footage of the city on another one of his monitors.

If you were dead-

There was a chance you could be down here.

He highly doubted it given your nature-

But there was still a chance.

He hadn't lost you yet.

So that was how Vox found himself rapidly traveling through wires and cameras all over pentagram city just holding onto a thread of hope that you would be around somewhere.

Velvette had given him an odd look when he just bolted of the Vee tower like his own ass was on fire but he couldn't bring himself to care.

The priority was you.

As he had unfortunately realized over time.

Zapping himself around through some cables, and cameras wasn't hard.

Tiring as he continued to do it but moving around like a shock of electricity was nothing new to the overlord of technology.

The problem now being that Vox had absolutely no idea where to even begin looking.

Pentagram city was huge, there was his tech and products in nearly every corner.

Aside from Alastor's stupid hotel-

And maybe cannibal town-

So it wasn't that difficult for him to get places.

But where would he even start?

It was unlike him to do something in such a sporadic manner.

Appearing here, appearing there-

Just to check, just to see.

He'd completely lost his cool in his panic and tried to picture what you'd look like as a sinner.

If there's one thing Vox had grown to recognize and love about you, it was your bright eyes.

That gaze that always looked at him with either cheer or mischief.

He was certain that wouldn't have changed even if you were launched into heaven or hell.

Problem was that didn't narrow his options at all.

How was he supposed to know how your other physical features would translate once you were down here?

Hell, he had a TV for a head!

The overlord zapped himself out of a nearby CCTV camera with a huff.

He couldn't keep traveling like that unless he wanted to exhaust himself before he'd even searched half of the pride ring.

So he straightened out his bow and brushed off his suit before just walking down the sidewalk and subtly searching that way.

He wasn't phased when some sinners took pictures of him, nor did he have the capacity to even care.

As long as they didn't get in his way, he left them be.

So imagine his surprise at the sense of familiarity he got passing by someone staring at the display TV screens on one of his many stores.

He swears he's never seen the person before, but there was something about their vibe that just hit like a sense of Deja vu.

Looking over at the sinner that seemed to even be amused at one of his broadcast reruns-

He got a good look of your face.

Your gaze really didn't change.

"Huh, so this is what he does down here. Goofy ass TV-"

And that was your voice.

He wouldn't mistake that anywhere.

"(Y/N)?"

You screamed in shock before you turned your equally surprised gaze to him.

When you met his eyes, Vox knew for sure it was you.

"Vox!!!"

You dropped the bag you were holding and immediately tackled him in a hug.

The overlord opened his arms instinctively to catch you, but he was caught off guard by your sudden movement that he ended up falling backwards and landing on his ass with you in his hold.

He couldn't really say anything when you were just rambling on and on into his chest about who knows what.

Vox couldn't even keep track of what you said.

He was just too relieved to still have you around.

It took a brief moment for him to tighten his hug on you, fearing that if he let go you would disappear.

The both of you stayed like that for a good while, until a certain princess Morningstar and her girlfriend found the two of you.

"(Y/N)???"

"(Y/N) get away from him!"

Vox could only compare how fast you whipped your head around to the times he'd caught you doing something silly.

Subconsciously his hold tightened on you as Vaggie approached, how in Lucifer's name did they even know you were here?

"No! I'd been looking for Vox ever since I ended up down here! I know he's not going to hurt me!"

He was more surprised at how quick you were to defend him, especially since-

Wait-

You'd been looking for him ever since you ended up in hell?

He couldn't catch the rest of the conversation you had with Vaggie and Charlie as he was too busy buffering.

By the time he'd finally been able to pay attention again, you were helping him stand back up with a bashful smile.

And that was when his worry finally reared it's ugly head.

"Wh- How the fuck are you even down here?! I told you to be careful and you'd gotten yourself killed?!"

"As if that's my fucking fault! How was I supposed to know I was gonna die that night?!"

The both of you go back and forth for a little while and you slowly calmed Vox down from his emotional rollercoaster.

He only noticed he was shaking slightly when you grabbed his hand and smiled at him.

A smile Vox was scared he'd never even see again.

He felt a little funny with your hand in his, not to mention just how small your palms were against his own.

"I'm okay now, see? You're such a worry wart."

"I could've lost you, why wouldn't I be?"

You just flick his screen with your free hand in response, but Vox didn't miss the slight red that dusted your cheeks accompanying your pout.

It was only then that he was able to get a good look at you.

He wanted to both laugh and scream at the fact you seemed to have taken traits of a doe, ears and all.

It was like Alastor just had to give him a middle finger no matter what he did.

He also noticed your outfit was the same as the one you had died in, which was probably a hint that you hadn't been down here for long.

Plus, you were just...

Short.

Well, you only stood up to his chest so you just seemed small in comparison to him.

A soft cough brought his attention away from you.

Ah.

Right.

"Hey there Mr. Vox! I see you're well acquainted with (Y/N)!"

Vox was about to just shrug off Charlie's greeting and leave with you when he noticed your stern gaze.

Oh fine, he'll play nice.

"You can just call me Vox, princess. No need for the formalities. It's a pleasure meeting you!"

He returned, extending his free hand to shake with his signature grin propped up on his screen.

Charlie just smiled and shook his hand, introducing herself and Vaggie.

Well, he already knew who they were but he played along.

"Oh just call me Charlie and this is Vaggie, we were actually just shopping with (Y/N) before you appeared?"

Huh?

Vox raised an eyebrow at you but you just nonchalantly pointed to the dropped groceries nearby the two of you just sitting on the sidewalk.

So that was what you were holding before you tackled him.

Before he could respond to Charlie however, you beat him to it.

"Saaaaaay why don't you go back to the hotel with us?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean I'd reckon it's not like you have anything else to do if you're out here."

Vox didn't really know how he was supposed to react first.

One, he was done with the day's work so you had him kind of cornered.

It wasn't like he could say no to you anyway-

And two, the hotel-

If Charlie and Vaggie were here with you then he could assume what hotel you were talking about.

And he was absolutely livid because he knew fucking Alastor was there.

Alastor.

And you were staying there?!

Though it seems like you heard his thoughts and poked his screen to snap him out of it.

"Oh and don't worry about Alastor, I've been a pain in his side ever since I came to the hotel. He's just really easy to piss off, kind of like you actually- and it's entertaining to watch."

Vox just gave you an annoyed glare from the comparison to which you shrugged.

Though when he weighed his options, maybe it was for the best that you stayed at the hotel despite his rival being there.

It was probably the safest space in hell at the moment-

Especially with how they were able to drive away the exorcists.

That and...

He wasn't so sure about having you in the same space as Valentino.

The pimp already blew up at him when you were just on his phone-

How much more if you guys were in the same room?

He broke from that train of thought though when you just suddenly started messing with his bow tie.

Tugging and poking, Vox couldn't help but find your behaviors as puzzling as it was cute.

He gaze softened slightly at you before he chuckled.

"Just what do you think you're doing doll?"

"Messing with your tie, what else?"

"Hmm, I can see that. Mind telling me why?"

"Cuz I can? Besides- do you wear this outfit all the time?"

"Only when I'm working, aren't you curious."

"Eh, it's all I've seen you wear so I figured I'd ask. Besides, this is the first time we've physically met."

Vox missed the weird glance Charlie and Vaggie gave the both of you.

Not that he would've noticed anyway when you were busy taking up all his attention.

Eventually, you were able to talk the tech overlord into walking you back to the hotel.

He felt a little weird when you finally let go of his hand to pick up the groceries you'd dropped but he wasn't sure why.

Well, more like you were dragging him along.

Charlie and Vaggie were talking excitedly in the front as he just strolled alongside you.

He wasn't really paying attention to them.

"I don't actually know much about what happened in the accident, just that it was a car crash. Speaking of- how did you know I died?"

"A news article popped up on your computer, I almost thought it was clickbait at first."

"Huh, well at least I ended up on the news!"

You both fell seamlessly into conversation all the way on your walk.

And despite you just behaving the same Vox was familiar with, seeing your reactions in person was a completely different experience.

Your energy was almost contagious even.

Vox just intended to drop you off at the hotel and return to his tower-

But you being you, decided to drag him inside despite his protests.

Charlie and Vaggie went ahead inside with the groceries while you once again grabbed Vox's hand to take him inside.

The overlord could already feel all eyes on him the second he stepped through the doors.

Talk about awkward.

"Greetings old pal! What brings you around here?"

Vox visibly cringed when he heard Alastor, forcing his trademark smile onto his face before looking at the deer.

Everyone already seemed to be taking cover for the inevitable fight that was going to happen between the two overlords when-

"Cut the shit Alastor, I don't need you antagonizing Vox when I want to chill out with him."

Vox didn't even have room to reply when your voice immediately cut through the tension like a knife through butter.

Even he looked at you with slightly widened eyes, did you just not fear Alastor at all?

In hindsight, Vox realized you didn't seem to fear him at all when you guys met so was this really unexpected?

The radio demon only narrowed his eyes at you in annoyance, static starting to surround him and you simply crossed your arms.

"If this is meant to be scary, I suggest trying something else. Cuz, you're honestly kinda just being creepy."

Alastor tilted his head before suddenly laughing off your words, your own deer ears pinning back in irritation.

"Why I was just trying to say hello my dear! No need to get so hostile!"

"Don't call me that. It's either my name or nothing ya weirdo."

That piqued Vox's interest, you never had any issues with his petnames-

And yet it seems like you had every bone to pick with his rival.

Was that because of him???

He bit back a laugh and just continued to spectate your exchange.

"If you do insist (Y/N), but I will say you have a terrible taste in companions."

You just flipped Alastor the bird and Vox raised an eyebrow at you.

He didn't even have to say a word to the deer before he disappeared back into the shadows.

"So what was that about who antagonizing who?"

"So much as say another word about this exchange I'm going to punch your screen in Vox."

"That's if you can reach it dollface."

And just like that, you both fell back into your usual banter.

The others would've thought you and Vox were arguing if it weren't for the seemingly genuine grins on both your faces.

There wasn't an air of hostility around you and Vox like when you confronted Alastor.

It was friendly, which was... weird to say the least.

All the more for the current residents of the hotel.

You were a new arrival, so the fact you were so buddy-buddy with one media overlord while having every bone to pick with the other was a little confusing.

Not to mention that Vox was kind of just... there.

Like he wasn't trying to strike up a deal, or even do anything to the hotel.

Was he there just for you???

That fact made them more concerned about your backstory than anything.

When a lull in the conversation between you and Vox finally hit, Angel spoke up.

"Say uh, toots. How'd you end up down here?"

You didn't seem to mind the nickname this time, instead simply shrugging nonchalantly.

Vox was sure now you just said you had problems with it because it was Alastor.

"That's actually a good question. I've got no idea."

"Seriously? Then how do you explain the fact you're friends with like- hell's biggest media overlord?!"

"Oh that? I met Vox when I was alive. No biggie though."

Vox just snickered from everyone's dumbfounded expressions.

Of course he could leave it to you to completely misunderstand just how important the title of "overlord" is.

"I think I might be able to help figure out why you're down here (Y/N)."

It almost entirely caught Vox off guard when Lucifer of all people suddenly made his presence known.

Not to mention the guy was just really short.

Like- wow.

You'd think with all the paintings and tales he'd be a bit more intimidating too but nope.

Vox just looked over at you next to him while you just gratefully gave Lucifer a hug and accepted his offer.

Seems like he wasn't wrong when he mentioned that you could easily make friends anywhere in the past.

The overlord nodded his head slightly to acknowledge the king of hell but was more focused on what he was going to do to help.

It wasn't like they could just watch your entire life on rewind-

Or could they?

Vox just watches as Lucifer uses his magic to form this... golden orb thing in front of everyone.

So color him shocked when it suddenly starts playing some of your memories.

From when you met him because of the ouija board incident-

Up until the point you died.

Was he the reason for your damnation???

Was that why the orb showed that??

"So that's how you guys know each other- don't see anything that could've caused you to be down here though. Let's go farther back."

What-

Now the overlord was completely stumped.

Just what.

Okay, maybe he jumped to conclusions too soon.

Apparently, from skimming through your memories- it seems like the main reason why you were down here with the rest of them-

Was because you stole a candy bar when you were like- five.

"And you were worried about not meeting me."

"I mean, how was I supposed to know I was damned since I was FIVE?! What the hell is this bullshit?!"

Vox could only laugh at you throwing a hissy fit, everyone else around you still being a little confused and dumbfounded that you were in hell for such a small and kind of idiotic reason.

"It's not funny Vox! I can't believe I'm stuck down here because of a fucking candy bar!"

"I thought you didn't mind being down here?"

"Oh trust me I don't, I'm good with wherever you are. But I could've at least gone down for a cooler reason! Fucking hell!"

He couldn't help but smile fondly as you continued to rant.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen you like this, but he always found it cute anyway.

Screens between you both or not.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x reader #get off my screen series

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greycaelum · 11 months

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imagine past/young gojo and reader go into the future and meet the future gojo and reader with the kids and shi

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Sweet Things }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

2016... The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010. "This is crazy..." Is this even possible? Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

𑁍 Genre: fluff, time-leap

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.4k)—/ glimpse of teen Satoru, teen reader, the reader got sucked in a curse's domain, clingy Satoru—/

𑁍 A/N: For some reason, there seems to be a number that likes this trope (I have two more of the same request in the inbox). This is not my forte, so sorry for the very long wait dear. I'll post the next part in Satoru's POV. This will be a three-shot I guess.

"Neh, can you fight?" A 19-year-old Satoru held his breath as he asks the girl he's been wanting to talk to for years now. "I can train you," he added.

"No, but if you do that stunt again I'm gonna knee you where the sun doesn't shine." You smiled sweetly at the male, contrasting with the blank look in your eyes.

Satoru's heart only shivered. Please, you have to stop being so adorable it's making his heart go batshit pounding.

"Yaga-san, I'm going. Please wire my payment to the usual account." You bowed at the older male chanting to let down a curtain. You move to get out before the partition touched the ground.

"Oi!" Satoru almost choked on himself watching you turn your back on him. Not so fast pretty girl. Not when he's spent years looking at you from afar. He stopped you and handed over the blue folding umbrella.

"Sorry about that, I'm Gojo Satoru, and take this. It's going to rain," Satoru smiled and reach for your hand, depositing the umbrella before you could reply, and ran back into the curtain. He bit his lips, grinning to himself so badly he feels like he wants to roll on the ground. Damn it! You're just so cute. Seconds later small droplets started to fall.

That was how you "first" met the annoying but thoughtful menace. But little did you know...

Little by little he meets you more frequently in the missions, being a window, you're the first in the scene before the managers and sorcerers arrive. And it was supposed to be a normal mission and the sorcerers were just a bit late when you got entangled in the domain, with no way out. Just when your eyes are fully engulfed in the bottomless pit, a dash of white hair rushes forward and a shout called you.

"Y/n! Wake up, hey grab on me!" A crisp profanity flew out of the rude mouth. You swam into consciousness and gasped for oxygen.

You thought you're gonna die. That wasn't the first time you put down a curtain for a special grade curse but it sure will be the closest you get to dying. The curse messes up space and time. After regaining your breath, your eyes fluttered open and met the thick foliage of trees staring back at you.

The sound of loud children nearby occupied your hearing as you swam into full consciousness. This is Jujutsu Tech's grounds, the scenery is familiar but you don't know where it will lead since Master Tengen's barrier changes every day leading to different kinds of places to keep intruders from invading the school.

You started walking until you find yourself at the door of the mountain, towards the city. You look down at your dirty clothes and sighed. Perhaps getting a shower first makes sense. You hailed a cab and gave your address.

"!?"

The three-story building you're living in is nowhere and it was replaced by a fancy-looking cafe.

Les Sucreries

"What is going on?" You remember walking up and going out of your apartment this morning. You can't be in the wrong place since the ice cream parlor you love is right in front and a few blocks is the cafe you are working on part-time.

"Ah, Miss. If you'd like please check out this flier it's time-limited so make sure to drop your entry!" A lad skip up to you and extended a flier then ran away.

Free Bouquet for the first three visitors... Fleur-de-Lis Bouquets. Only until July 27, 2016...

2016...

The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010.

"This is crazy..." Is this even possible?

Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

If in 2016 your apartment is not there anymore... Does that mean you finally got to buy your own house? What course did you take in college? Did you finally get a decent boyfriend?

A blush rose to your face. Why of all things did you have to think of that? You should first find a way home before worrying about that. Maybe going back to Jujutsu Tech will help. You started walking in the direction of the college.

The cafe door opened and a lady in a barista's apron peeked outside. The baby she's carrying on her hip calmed down when she walked out of the cafe.

"Did you see someone we know Kou-chan?" The lady chuckled as she tickled her baby boy with striking white hair while he tried to babble and pointed his chubby finger at the lady walking away.

"Mama..."

"Mnn? Mama's right here sweetheart."

Ahhh, this is crazy. The Tokyo of 2010 and Tokyo of 2016 look so alike and not at the same time.

You walked and walked and stopped.

That striking white hair that stands out of the crowd, lanky figure, and cool minty scent. The man is walking on the other side of the road and stopped on the red lights.

"Gojo?"

Your hands immediately flew to cover your mouth. He's wearing a weird white bandage over his eyes and his hair is fluffed up by the constricting cloth. But it's him! He looks just a 'bit' more handsome and mature...

Shit! You smacked your head. This is not the time for those thoughts.

And you'd never admit it to him or else his ego will gloat and you won't hear the end of it. Sometimes you wonder if ever someone has duct taped his mouth because he's so noisy and annoying.

Anyways, you can't help but trail after Gojo. Surely he'll help you if you just approach him. Everyone says he has a bad personality but when you first met him, he may sound condescending yet he ran after you to give you an umbrella because it was going to rain. That was thoughtful of him.

He's not that so bad... You thought and sighed. He may have the answer on how you could come back home. But at the same time, you're a little curious about how he turned out 6 years later. Just a little curious. After you're satisfied you'll approach him!

Come to think of it... Is he married? He should be 24 right now... It's quite young to be married yet but knowing that he came from the Gojo Clan and on top he's the heir it's not surprising if he already has an arranged marriage partner.

What does she look like? She must have a very unique curse technique and be from a prestigious clan.

Argh! Stop thinking about that Y/n. I need to go home. You steeled your thoughts.

Mustering up your courage you ran to the nearest pedestrian line and ran after Gojo but he walks damn fast.

"Damn, those lanky legs." You panted and look around only to realize you're back to where you were before.

Les Sucreries

That's French... The name fits Gojo very much.

What is he doing here? Overcame by curiosity, you entered the cafe and sat on the farthest table. Will he recognize you?

That was when a woman came down the stairs, wearing a plain brown apron. She didn't notice you because she was focused on the man leaning on the stairs. The man was Gojo.

And the woman... was you...?

Your jaw dropped and took another look at the woman's face. It's definitely you!

It's just that your hair is longer and your body is more mature. And there's the palpable wedding band on your left ring finger.

But that's definitely "you" standing beside the strongest sorcerer, with his hands wrapped around "your" waist as he tries to sneak a kiss.

W-What happened?

Your heart was pounding and slowly regretted entering the cafe. Not in your wildest dreams did you think this would even be a possibility. I-Is he your h-husband?

So you got married. And not just married!

You're married to Gojo.

What were you thinking?! Ahhhhh! You felt your heart like a dying fish removed from the water. This isn't real... You could feel your soul escaping from your body.

You looked up and blue eyes met you. The same arrogant smirk on his lips and he whispered something to "your" ear and kissed her temples before walking towards your direction. The future "you" went up the stairs, still uninformed that her six years younger self is here.

"You blushing Y/n-chan?" He chimed and sat on the chair across from you, flashing a devilish grin. "So... how did my lil' teen crush get here?"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld

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theitgirlnetwork · 1 month

Text

Earn It

Ch. 2 : Esmerelda Variation

Heaven's outfit at the match:

Note: Thank you for the insane amount of love you guys are showing this. This is still a ground work laying chapter so still a little short but with a bit of drama. I should warn that just like the characters from the movie, Heaven is going to be ambiguous. Sometimes she'll be great, sometimes she'll be toxic (you have to remember she's best friends with Tashi for a reason). Anyways, you will get to know her as the story goes on. Thank you for all of the likes, follows, reblogs and notes, I really love hearing from you all and will be responding to them today. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I wrote it in the middle of the night lol. (P.s. I have a bad track record with tag lists but I'm going to try, let me know if it works.)

Taglist: @spookystitchery @anehkael @fkaams

“You remember when you said you’d let me win this one?”

“That was a lifetime ago.”

Art whips his head to look at Patrick who’s staring out onto the currently empty court, leaning back on the bench with his elbows. “But what about my grandmother?”

“You better hope she has a stroke.” the brown haired man shrugs, patting his friend’s shoulder. “I mean Tashi Duncan is gonna be watching. Tennis princess. And her hot friend. Can’t fuck up, sorry man.”

Art just shakes his head and takes a swig of water. Two hours had passed since this morning’s run-in and he still hadn’t been able to force himself to tell Patrick about the fact that Heaven’s number was on the line too. It’d only be fair, he knows that. But…Art really didn’t want Patrick to have it.

He should’ve just asked her for it directly instead of hiding behind this performance in interest in getting it from her. But he’d been thrown off. He’d truthfully thought he wouldn’t be able to see her again after she announced she had a boyfriend to the group. When he saw her on the beach that morning he found himself jogging down to catch her, and struggling to keep pure thoughts as she talked to him in her skimpy workout gear, telling him she’s single now.

She was just so pretty. The sweat and the morning sun made her skin glisten. Her smile on her face made her cheeks dimple cutely and drew his attention to her soft lips. And she had this look in her eye. She and Tashi are so different yet so alike. She was asking him if competing was how he wanted to get her number. He was asked to make the choice. But it was the challenge he found swimming in her gaze. Like, there was only one right answer, that she expected him to be able to make the decision himself. Like if he shied away now, the little fire he saw in her eyes would die.

Heaven was just as into this as Tashi was.

The thought of her giving that look to Patrick too, it was something he couldn’t handle.

“Shame about that boyfriend though…wonder if it’s serious…Art. Art?”

Art jolts out of his inner thoughts and focuses on his friend opening his breakfast sandwich next to him. “D’you think Heaven’s relationship is serious? I feel like she was flirting a little. Poor bastard. Sending his girl on the road without him when she looks like that? Fuckin’ idiot. And she’s a dancer, do you know what that means?” Patrick asks, holding the sandwich out for Art to take a bite, smiling when he does and swiping his thumb across his mouth to rid him of some crumbs.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“She’s fuckin’ flexible, Arthur.” He growls, a smirk on his face. “She’s bendy and shit.”

Art’s lip curls in disgust as he shoves his friend, huffing out an irritated laugh when he’s shoved back. “Don’t fuckin’ talk about her like that. Either of them, they’re people, jesus, Patrick.”

“Yes, exactly. Beautiful people. That I would like to fuck.”

“You’re a great guy, man, really.” he sighs sarcastically, tossing his arm around Patrick’s shoulder.

“Thanks man, I really appreciate that.”

Heaven is quiet as she lets Tashi guide her to their seats in the center for the Donaldson v. Zweig match. Her friend had been excited all morning, ready to finally see some “real fuckin’ tennis’. Heaven was excited too. She’s always enjoyed watching people she knows do what they’re passionate about.

That’s why she’s always loved watching Tashi play tennis. Tashi plays tennis like she’s making love and going to war all at the same time. She leaves everything on the court, like each match is the last thing she’ll ever do. She goes somewhere, and Heaven likes going with her. Passion is what moves her. She’s passionate about dance. A life without it is meaningless.

“You good?” Tashi asks, nudging her knee with her own, grabbing Heaven’s attention.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

The taller girl shrugs, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder with pursed lips. “Just making sure you’re not letting that dickhead Trevor get to you. He’s a waste of time and space in your brain. Can’t play basketball for shit and doesn’t know when to stop.” Tashi nudges Heaven again when she rolls her eyes, facing the court. “I mean, you obviously don’t have to listen to me, babe, I just know you’re too good for that shit. Don’t want you to waste your energy.”

That shit. That’s the shit she doesn’t like about Tashi. When she can’t tell if she genuinely is being her best friend, or is jealous that she’s been sharing Heaven’s attention. The condescending demand that Heaven show no weakness regarding someone other than her. Heaven knows Tashi wants what’s best for her. But she doesn’t own her emotions.

“Said I’m fine, T.” Heaven huffs, ignoring Tashi’s stare out of the corner of her eye and opting to watch the announcer climb the ladder and take position. “By the way, I saw Art this morning. I told him that we could double the stakes. Winner gets your number and mine.” When Tashi’s reaction doesn’t come, Heaven looks at her to see that she’s now facing forward, smiling almost evilly at the court.

“God, this is gonna be so good. Do you know how horny those guys are? They think the winner is gonna end up fucking us together, this is gonna be a real match.”

Heaven goes to respond but pauses as the men begin making their way onto the court, their names echoing in the microphone as they begin placing their bags down. Tashi finishes signing an autograph for a fan sitting behind them and settles back into her seat.

Both men immediately seek them out in the crowd, two sets of eyes finding the girls sitting in the center. Patrick points his racket in their direction with a cocky smile before turning to take to the court. Art gages their reactions to his friend, watching both women offer smiles to him and offering them his own wave. A bright grin lights his face when they return it.

“Boys are so easy.” Tashi laughs through her teeth.

“Very.” Heaven agrees, crossing her legs as she watches the match begin. Both men are working their asses off out of the gate. The ball sails back and forth across the net. Their grunts ring out into the air. Their eyes tense, sweat dripping, breathing heavy. At first, they were being showmen. Both of them stopping, looking to the stands for the girls' approval only working harder when the most they are offered back is a small nod.

But they got focused. They moved faster. Worked harder. They forgot them and just played some fucking tennis. And it was sexy as hell. For the first time ever, Heaven was experiencing the feeling she gets watching Tashi play. And she was experiencing it watching someone else.

Tashi was enjoying the game immensely. She loves this shit. This is the game she lives for, and she and her best friend had made it more interesting. She grins as she watches the ball go to Patrick, then Art, then back again. Her head swiveled with everyone else’s and she felt happy. Impressed.

Until she saw Heaven out of the corner of her eye.

Heaven sitting on the edge of her seat, looking at Patrick then Art then Patrick then Art. She hadn’t looked at Tashi since they started. It’s normal. They’ve watched matches together before, but this look on her face. That was supposed to be Tashi’s look.

Biting her lip in focus, breathing slightly elevated in the excitement, one hand toying with her name chain on her otherwise bare collar bone as the other clutched the arm of the chair, arched forward, leaning towards them.

Tashi shakes her head briefly and focuses back on the match, placing one hand on Heaven’s knee.

Just in case she slipped from her seat.

When Patrick took his bow, looking through his dark lashes to see Heaven and Tashi’s reactions. Both of them look pleased. Offering him applause as he stands before going to grab his things.

Art watches in defeat. The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches it in irritation. He walks off his adrenaline, pacing between clearing his things from the bench. He feels a heavy hand clap on his back. “Good game, man. I’ll meet you out front, yeah? I’ve got a number to collect.”

“Yeah. Good game.” he says quietly.

Two. Two numbers. Both. He’s getting both. He deserves neither, and he’s getting Tashi Duncan and Heaven Whitlock.

Art sits on the competitor’s chair, pulling his shirt off and tossing it over his head to shield himself from the sun as he puts his head back. He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there. But he can’t bring himself to get up. To meet Patrick. To watch Tashi know he’s better than him as she gives him her number. To watch Heaven decide that he hadn’t earned the right to want her.

He doesn’t remove the shirt until he hears shoes clacking on the court. He’s expecting to see an employee of the tournament but is shocked to see Heaven standing in front of him with an unenthused look.

“Oh, good, I thought you were crying.”

“Um, nope.” Art huffs, a wry smile on his face. “That would be a little pathetic, even for me.”

Heaven’s head tilts, her dark, silky hair falling to the side as she does. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and Art hops out of the chair, offering it to her. “How is almost winning pathetic?”

“I didn’t almost win-”

“He didn’t sweep you. You could’ve won. He’s just better today. When Tashi wins, the other person usually doesn’t even get more than one point.” Heaven pushes up into the seat, crossing one leg over the other. Art can’t help but reminisce. Her legs are now covered by her light washed jeans, but her bare shoulders remind him of the expanse of glowing skin he’d seen earlier this morning. “The score was close.”

Art smiles slightly at that. He’s still annoyed he was unable to beat his friend, but her words, while based solely in logic, still managed to be comforting. “So, uh, I bet Patrick was pretty fuckin’ happy to get you and Tashi’s numbers.”

“Oh, he was pretty damn excited.” Heaven laughs. “It was cute.”

Ouch. “Yeah, I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it.”

Heaven nods, lips rolling inward as she uses her arms to push herself forward, kicking him lightly with her leg, smiling flirtily when he catches her foot, his large hand encasing her ankle. He rights her gold anklet, turning it so that the cross on it is facing upward before bringing her foot back to the ground. “What about you?”

“What about me? I lost. Fair and square.”

“You did.” she grins, resting her chin in her hand. “But the wager changed this morning didn’t it? I agreed that the winner would get my and Tashi’s numbers, but you had an added requirement, right?”

Art’s brows furrowed in confusion briefly before the realization hits him. “I had to earn it.”

“If you’d won, but didn’t earn the win, I wouldn’t give it to you. I have my opinion. What’s yours? Do you feel like you earned my number today?”

“You want to give it to me anyway?”

Heaven shakes her head and hops down from the seat, moving closer to Art and fully expecting him to back up, pleasantly surprised when he just tilts his head down to accommodate her height. “I want you to tell me if today was your best.”

Art breathes out heavily. There’s a part of him that wants to just say ‘fuck it, yes’. He wants to say that's the best he can do, and he did earn her number already. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look her in the face and say he couldn’t do better. He couldn’t have her look at him like he didn’t have potential. “No.”

That’s apparently the right answer, because Heaven offers him a quiet, “Good.” before brushing past him, her arm narrowly missing his, causing the hairs on his skin to stand.

As he watches the girl prance away from him gracefully, Art bites back his own smirk, looking to the ground and nodding to himself.

He has some work to do.

“Just tell me. I just wanna know.” Art chews his gum, trying to look nonchalant as possible as he and Patrick make their way onto the courts.

He’d been haunted by the way his friend is seemingly getting joy from being very secretive about what he’s been doing with Tashi and Heaven. He knows he’s been talking to them. He can tell. It’s in the smug looks. The fucking half stories without names. He’s fucking keeping them to himself. Won’t even share their names with him. And in response to Art’s irritation, Patrick smirks. The same stupid fucking crooked smirk that always hides his snide remarks and secrets. Usually, Art has a twin one to match, now, the joke is on him.

“I can’t believe you, of all people, are telling me to kiss and tell. You used to be a gentleman, Art.” Patrick chuckles, grabbing a ball and preparing to serve.

“Just tell me if you slept with either of them.” Art pushes, moving to the opposite side of the net and getting into position. “C’mon, it doesn’t matter. If you’ve slept with Tashi, do a normal serve. Serve like me.”

Patrick hesitates a bit, shaking his head as he looks at his friend’s determined face. He knows Art is not gonna stop asking. But he’s gonna be so butthurt about the answer. He rolls his choices around in his head, briefly considering if it would piss off the girls for him to talk about it and deciding they wouldn’t care about Art knowing. And, he couldn’t help himself from bragging.

Setting up the serve and sending the ball sailing over the net, Patrick gives Art the confirmation he was seeking. Art offers him a smile in an attempt to appear nonchalant, and goes to hit the ball, only to see a second one flying past him on his other side.

“Wh-”

Patrick grins again, watching the two balls bounce and roll on the opposite sides of Art. He shrugs, strolling over to the net. “I figured you’d ask about Heaven too.” Holding his hand out in front of Art’s mouth he catches the gum he spits into it. “They…uh fancy themselves a package deal.”

“Really?” Art breathes through the smile he has painted on his face.

“Yeah.” Patrick squirts water into his mouth. “S’fuckin’ awesome.”

Art just chuckles politely until Patrick turns around to get another ball, using his friend’s distraction to let his smile drop into an aggravated frown.

The next time the whole group is all together is move in week. Heaven and Tashi had somehow convinced the men that even though Patrick was packing up for his tour and Art was also moving in, they needed to help them move into their dorms. They were starting with Stanford today and planned to make their way to UCLA tomorrow to get Heaven’s stuff together. While Art now naturally had Tashi's number because they were going to school together, he and Heaven had stuck to their deal. He hadn't decided what he was going to do to get it. Maybe win a match while she was here visiting in a couple weeks. Or maybe he had to beat Patrick specifically. He didn't know, but he as much as he wants her respect, he was getting sick of waiting.

Both men had removed their shirts in the California heat, carrying Tashi’s tennis equipment, replacement mattress, mini fridge and all ten tons of luggage she brought.

The women were being helpful too. Heaven was apparently resting her legs in anticipation of her audition tomorrow, and rode comfortably on Patrick’s back up the steps during the first trip from the van. After that the girls had made Tashi’s bed before both climbing onto it and sharing a lollipop as they watched the boys work.

“No, I want my printer over there.” Tashi calls, popping the candy out her mouth and passing it to Heaven, who is absently scrolling on her phone when she drags it into hers.

“Next time, I want green apple.”

Patrick drops the printer on the desk and turns to them. “You know, people hire movers for stuff like this. Where’s your dad?”

Tashi just ignores him, leaning her head over to look at whatever Heaven is staring at on her phone.

“Men used to build houses, you know.” Heaven says, tilting the device so Tashi can see better. The latter nodding at whatever she’s being shown.

“Mm, and go to war.” Tashi sighs boredly, “You guys can’t carry mini furniture?”

Patrick huffs irritably and looks to Art to back him up. “We’re almost done.” The blond shrugs, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“You just like kissing their asses.”

“And you don’t?” Tashi calls from the bed.

Patrick huffs and lifts the printer again, moving it to where Tashi indicated it should go. Meanwhile, Art moves over to the bed finally done emptying the trolley they borrowed from the university. “What’re you two looking at?”

“I’m helping Heaven decide what piece she should do for her audition in a couple days.” Tashi rolls off of the bed and stretches her muscles, “she’s being stubborn.”

Art’s brows furrow as he looks down at Heaven, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, not reacting to Tashi’s criticism at all. She’d known about that audition since before they met them. He’s shocked to hear she still hasn’t decided on a piece.

“It’s not being stubborn, Tashi-” the girl pauses her movements at the use of her real name, brow raising. “It’s my audition.”

“Okay. Yeah, I just don’t wanna hear you whine for the next two weeks about how you should’ve done Odile from Swan Lake but pussied out because it’s hard and you know you’d complain.”

“I’ve done it before.”

“Exactly, babe, exactly. That’s why I don’t get why you don’t just go set the tone.” Tashi chirps. Her voice does that thing. That thing she does when she's pretending she's being casual about something. Going up an octave to show just how much she doesn't care.

Heaven sits up then, a stern look on her face that can rival the one Tashi gives, both hands planted in the bed as she stares the other girl down. “You don’t think I’ll get the lead with whatever I pick.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. A dare. The look she gives dares Tashi to say the wrong thing.

Patrick and Art don’t know what to do. They’d never seen the girls disagree before. They’re always tag-teaming everyone. Tagging in and out of conversations, finishing each other’s quick remarks, cutting people down with sharp looks together. They’d never seen them face off before.

“I know you’d better get the lead.” Tashi shrugs, flipping her hair over and tying it up with a hair tie.

“I’m gonna. Have I ever not?” Heaven sends back.

Tashi gives her a noncommittal look before snatching up Patrick’s shirt, tossing it into his hands. “Come hit the ball with me.”

She offers Art one glance. It’s an invitation, very clearly for everyone except Heaven, who was already turned away on the bed, scrolling on her phone again.

Patrick and Art have their own wide-eyed, silent conversation, finally settling through gestures. ‘You go with that one, I’ll stay with this one, hopefully no one pitches a fit.’

The dorm room door slips shut and the room is quiet aside from the clock ticking on Tashi’s dresser. A few moments pass before Heaven lets out a loud sigh and rolls over, gasping when she sees Art sitting at the desk on his own phone. “What the fuck?”

His eyes widen as he looks at her. “What?”

“I thought you left with Tashi and Patrick.”

He softens as that, offering her a smile. “And leave you by yourself? Nah. Anyway, we’re gonna be playing tennis everyday for the rest of this semester. Let’s go tour my college campus.”

Heaven looks up at the blond man outstretching his hand to her. Part of it is because she’s pissed at Tashi and didn’t wanna be laying here when she got back, but another part of her thought it might be fun to use this as an opportunity to get to know Art more.

Since she, Patrick and Tashi started hooking up, she’d decided she was satisfied with keeping the set up she had. She had some fun, they dated, and ultimately, there weren’t many requirements. Her focus was just dance now, she wasn’t looking to waste her time on another boyfriend who wouldn’t work out, and going down the exclusive route with Tashi would get…complicated.

But sometimes she thought about Art. She thought about his cute smile and blond hair. She thought about his voice and muscles. And since the match, she thinks about how he played tennis. She could’ve came from watching him play tennis.

A secret she’ll take to the grave, mind you.

But one that led her to walking around campus with him, despite the fact that she and Tashi had agreed she needed to rest her legs before her audition.

Art told her all about the stuff the guide book talked about, showing her the historic buildings, the dorm he now calls home and the dining hall. And somehow, they ended up in the small theater that’s located on the campus.

He smiles, glancing at her, rocking on his feet as they stand outside the building.

Heaven rolls her eyes playfully, nudging his shoulder. “Huh. I wonder how we ended up here.

“Couldn’t tell you. Definitely didn’t walk you to this…very small theater on purpose.” Art shrugs. “Probably should go in though.” He says breezily, pushing the door open for Heaven to walk through.

As she steps over the threshold, Heaven’s bad mood nearly dissolves. Her tense shoulders relax and her eyes slip closed. Art watches her all but melt into the environment, her pretty features smooth out as she breathes in deeply. “A theater is a theater. I missed this, traveling with Tashi.”

“I’d bet. I’m sure you don’t get much time to dance when you do that.” He says softly, watching her run her hands along the stage.

“Just drills so I don’t get rusty.” She hums. “I’m gonna end up doing Odile. She’s right, it’s a show stopper, guaranteed lead.”

Art sits in the front, center seat, watching as Heaven pushes her way up onto the stage, sitting on the edge. “I’m sure you’d get it no matter what you did. You’re a beautiful dancer.”

Heaven sweeps her hair over her shoulder. “You’ve never seen me dance, Arthur.”

He looks at her with an earnest, almost pleading expression that makes her stomach flip. “Could I? Please?”

“Okay.”

Art hasn’t experienced that much of life yet. He’s young, he’s had the same best friend forever. He went to a boarding school for tennis. He hasn’t traveled the world yet or anything.

But he’s pretty sure he would like to watch Heaven Whitlock dance.

She was in sweats. Unprepared, with no shoes. Though she denied it, she was clearly nervous that her friend would bust in, see her, and it would start round two of their squabble. But she stretches for a moment before crouching to set up her phone. “Do you know what you wanna see or…”

Art blushes at that, he doesn’t exactly know any ballets. He just wanted to see Heaven in her element. “How about you show me the dance you wanna do.”

There it is. The truth. They both know she’s gonna do the dance Tashi is recommending. But right now she’s not here. And Art wants to see what Heaven would enjoy doing.

“It’s the Esmeralda Variation.” She says, untying her shoelaces before pulling her shoes off altogether. “I need something to kick.”

Art immediately pulls his hat off, tossing it up to her and chuckling as she giggles catching it. One tap on her phone and the muffled music is echoing in the empty theater.

And she’s moving.

And Art can’t breathe.

He’s never seen anything like it, like her. The grace. The control she has over her body. He didn’t know people could look like that. He didn’t know balance could be so beautiful. It was like, he didn’t even want to blink. He didn’t want to miss a minute of it.

His eyes tracked her body’s movements with precision, but what they really focused on was her face. He’d never seen perfection like that. Peace like that. This was what Tashi was talking about. This is what she feels with tennis, Heaven has dance. She was in a relationship. With the song. With her body. The floor. The audience. Him.

Watching Heaven dance felt like witnessing love.

She’s amazing.

The dance was fun, playful, and looked difficult as hell. And she did it with ease.

He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she stopped, sliding down into a final split with a bright smile on her face. “That’s…you’re beautiful. That’s amazing, what you just did.”

Heaven gives him a pleased look that has him feeling warm. She moves to sit on the edge of the stage, letting her legs dangle as she looks at him. Her hands rest on her knees. “Thanks, Art, that means a lot.”

He shifts in his own seat, leaning forward. He pushes up out of the red theater chair and makes his way over to stand in front of her. “I mean it. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“You’re really good at that, you know.” Heaven says, her voice dropping to a whisper as she looks at him. This is the first time they’ve been face to face before. He’s tall, and imposing despite his accommodating demeanor. She bites her lip and watches his eyes immediately drop before he forces them back to her eyes. “Making people feel good about themselves.”

Art’s startled by the compliment, and immediately starts to laugh it off. Betrayed by the redness of his ears. “You have a gift.” He shrugs. “You should be told you have a gift, all the time.”

He doesn’t know what comes over him. The wave of boldness. It might’ve been that they were alone. Or he was still worked up from what he just witnessed. Or the way Heaven was looking at him, with intensity. Like she saw something. He rests one hand on her leg, feeling smooth skin. And pushes into her space, bringing their faces impossibly closer. Heaven’s big eyes flutter shut as he gets closer, and he smiles.

She wants him to kiss her.

Grabbing his hat from behind her and placing it on his head.

Her eyes open after a beat and she gasps out a laugh, their faces still just a breath apart. “Ha. You’re funny-”

He presses his lips to hers in a brief but deep kiss, pulling away just as she pressed her lips back. “I’m sorry.”

Heaven balls her fist in the front of his shirt, dragging him back to her and making their lips meet again. Their mouths move together in a new dance. Suddenly the room is filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and hums of contentment. Heaven’s hands find their way into Art’s hair as he anchors her waist, pulling her to the very edge of the stage so he can stand between her thighs.

When they pull away their lips cause a loud smack in the dimly lit room. Art’s thumb sweeps over the soft skin of Heaven’s cheek as they both desperately try to catch their breath. Her own hand moves about his curls, smoothing them before sliding to his jaw. Art turns his head to press a kiss to her palm before he speaks.

“Heaven-”

His eyes widen as he sees the girl’s eyes watering, her rose petal lips trembling as she looks at him. Chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. She runs her hands through her hair with a stressed look that Art thinks he would do anything to remove.

“Please don’t tell Tashi.”

#oc #art donaldson x tashi duncan #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x tashi duncan #art donaldson x patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #tashi duncan x reader #love #challengers 2024 #challengers movie #challengers spoilers #heaven whitlock #earn it

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racinggirl · 1 month

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furthest from truth

Lando Norris fic - requested

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a/n: I'm baaack! It's been a while, I have to admit. But after having 3 new requests today, I got motivated again and I decided to write the ones that were yet to be posted on my page. I hope you like it! I've added some spice to the end of the chapter 👀 Don't forget to follow me so you won't miss my other stories! 🫶🏼

Sun. Beach. Sand. Friends.

It might look cliché, but it’s what filled your hearts with joy.

‘’Norris! Give me a hand, will ya?’’ Your lips pulled away from those of your boyfriend the moment he got up to help one of your friends with preparing the jet skis.

‘’Finally,’’ your best friend, Ava, laughed as she took a seat next to you. ‘’Now that your lips are no longer glued to his, what do you think of grabbing a drink, I’m in a desperate need for a Frozen Daiquiri.’’

She pulled you up on your feet after you agreed on getting drinks. It was your holiday, after all, and even though it was just your first day of the 3-week holiday here in Dubai, you were planning on making it the best holiday yet.

You and Lando had been together for a little over 5 months now, the two of you bumping into each other at last year’s Christmas Market in London. You spilled your bottle of water over your shirt, and he was determined to win you a teddy bear so he could make it up to you.

After that Christmas Market, you went on a ton of dates. In London, but also in Monaco, as that was where he lived. You attended 3 races before he finally asked you to be his last summer, and obviously you said yes, otherwise this story is kind of weird, isn’t it?

Anyways, you knew who he was when you met him, having watched a few races here and there, along with your friends.

The moment you told your friends Lando had asked you out on a date, they couldn’t contain their excitement and practically forced you to go out with him. So, you did. And here we are, almost a year later.

‘’Two Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri, please.’’ Ava ordered the drinks for the two of you and once you felt the cold glass in your hand, you immediately took a sip.

‘’Urgh,’’ you groaned, your eyes closed. ‘’Best drink ever.’’ You giggled.

‘’Lando! Oh my god watch out!’’ Your grip on his life jacket was tight as he was riding the jet ski with you on the back. ‘’You idiot!’’ You laughed, hands gripping his shoulders firmly when you felt him go even faster – if that was even possible.

‘’You’re riding a jet ski with an F1 driver, love. Did you really think I was gonna go slow?’’ You groaned at his reply, and you simply held onto him like you could fall off any moment, which was probably the case.

Everything sport related was a game to him, and he was very, very competitive. He hated losing, which is why he tried his hardest to make you his, with success.

‘’Okay, okay, enough speed for me, let’s go back to the shore and have dinner, I’m starving.’’ You breathe, Lando’s hand moving over your leg slowly. He lifted his hand till it rested on your outer thigh, whilst still steering the jet ski with one hand. Slower, though, thankfully.

‘’We will, love, we will.’’ He said, but you could hear the amusement in his voice, his tone, teasingly with a smirk.

‘’Lan-…’’ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before your boyfriend pulled the right handle towards him, the two of you flying over the water. He made sure to keep an eye on you, but he knew you enjoyed this, and he wasn’t wrong.

You might tell him to stop going fast, heck, even in the bedroom you’d tell him to stop, but it was always with that flirty and teasing tone. He knew that tone, and he knew it meant you did not want him to, in fact, stop. So, he kept going.

‘’I should have thought better before signing that contract about us.’’

You were fully drenched, Lando obviously pushing the strings too hard which caused you to fall off the jet ski. Nothing harsh, it was all playful, and the two of you were laughing when it happened.

‘’You’re an idiot.’’ You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully as you squeezed the salty water out of your hair.

‘’I know, but you like it.’’ He teased, slapping your ass lightly as his hand moved its way towards your hip, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. ‘’I love you.’’

Dinner, which was absolutely insane – mostly because you were starving, but definitely because it was one of the best restaurants here in Dubai.

‘’Ehm..’’ Ava shoved you her phone, and you immediately let your eyes wander over the tweets, the Instagram posts, and the articles.

Lando saw the worried look on your face, so he cut off the conversation with his friends and pointed his attention to you, causing his friends to do the same.

‘’What’s wrong, love?’’ He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your knee as his gaze went from you to the phone, back to you.

You showed him the articles, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. You could see his jaw clench, the apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. ‘’They really need to make rumours about everything, don’t they?’’ He sighed and pressed a kiss to your temple.

‘’Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll fix it, we’ll post a statement on Insta, alright?’’ He said, his arms wrapping around you which caused you to relax.

You felt guilty, because you were aware of the eyes that were on him now that his contract with McLaren was coming to an end. You knew his contract was getting renewed, but the world didn’t, and you didn’t want to cause issues.

People blaming McLaren for not renewing his contract, and how this. People blaming McLaren for forcing Lando to be in a relationship with you, a PR relationship, which was the furthest from the truth. You loved each other so much, and McLaren had absolutely nothing to do with the two of you.

‘’Come here.’’ Lando’s arms made his way around your shoulders, his strong arms pulling you even closer to his chest. The bed was comfy, soft, but the tension in your face was apparent, especially to Lando.

‘’I just, I feel so stupid for saying that.’’ You sighed but Lando reassured you immediately.

‘’Babe, it’s not the first time we say this, it’s our joke, and people don’t get it, apparently. You know how the media is, they exaggerate everything to get those views and clicks, so they probably overheard you saying that, but did not see the look on your face, or your beautiful smile when you said that.’’ His voice was soft and calm, like he was not stressed at all about this.

‘’But the image McLa-..’’

‘’No, baby, no. That’s not your fault, okay? They should have probably announced the contract extension sooner, yeah, but that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever you said at the beach, okay?’’ He said, stern, but gentle. And you believed him. Of course you did, you believed everything he would tell you because you knew he was right.

‘’Now let’s make that post so people will stop complaining about things that are the furthest from the truth. That, and so I can take you tonight because I really, really want to.’’ He whispered the last thing with a voice so deep, you felt chills all over your body.

landonorris added to his story

landonorris & yourusername

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,273,710 others

I love you more than anyone imagine. Nothing can stop us, I promise you. Best decision I've ever made 🧡

view all 39,264 comments

user1 I feel ashamed

user5 as you should user3 we all should. how could we think it was just a PR. they are in love in love.

user2 You are so so so cute together!

‘’Lando, fuck, stop!’’ You breathe, hands pushing against his chest as he looked into your eyes, his bright ones a few shades darker than usually. He smirked, wetted his lips before thrusting even harder… Just how you asked.

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auteurdelabre · 1 month

Text

SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 11: SNOW

Rating: 18+

words: 15.2k

a/n #1: He's problematic but I love him your honor.

a/n #2: I LOVE Y'ALL for loving this fic! I see your comments and they warm my heart. I get inspired, I start writing the next chapter. I just fuckin love y'all. Please keep up the support here and on my A03.

SERIES MASTERLIST

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

Chapter 11: Snow

It's one of those nights where the weather feels biting and the snow heavy. The kind of weather that urges you to stay indoors and keep warm.

Luke invited you and Jennifer to the Bison for karaoke earlier but you declined, citing you had other plans.

Plans which involve the cup of tea at your elbow, the paperback in your hands and the fire going in the hearth. You feel cozy and warm and are almost drifting off when a knock at the door sounds.

You slip out from under the blanket over your legs, padding over to the door and opening it a crack to see a familiar face.

"Oh, hey Tommy."

The younger Miller comes in, shaking off the flakes from his shoulder. He lets the cold in, taking his time entering your home before closing the door behind him.

"Hey sorry to be callin' so late."

"Oh it's fine," you insist, suppressing a yawn. "You wanna drink?"

"Nah this'll be quick." Tommy sniffles, the end of his nose red from the cold. "S'about patrols."

"Uh huh?"

Tommy looks curiously uncomfortable, like a child who's been forced to apologize for something he feels he's not responsible for.

"I was thinkin' and you don't have'ta do ‘em anymore. I'll find someone to take over your spot if you need."

Tommy's face holds a myriad of expression, concern being the most predominant. Yours however holds nothing but confusion.

"Who?"

"Uh, was thinkin' of that Jennifer girl," Tommy says, hands deep in his coat pocket. He shifts from foot to foot slowly. "She seemed pretty up for it before. Was gonna head over to her place after this and ask her to take over til we find someone new to train."

This feels like a punch in the gut.

Useless.

The word Joel used when you first began. The word you thought you'd outgrown comes back like a sharp slap across the cheek. Your fingernails dig into the wood frame around the door, clinging to it.

The fire crackles dimly in the background, a soundtrack to your humiliation. Tommy can't look you in the eyes now and you have a feeling you know why. It makes you feel small and pathetic.

"Do you..." The words don't come easily, you have to force them. "Do you think I'm not good enough to be on patrols?"

"No," Tommy answers quickly, eyes wide and head shaking vehemently. "No. Not at all. This is just... I know back when you started you said you didn't really wanna do it. Preferred kitchen duty."

"Yeah."

"And we got some new blood in town lately, so I figured, you know..."

They think I'm useless.

Why else would Tommy be offering this? Stories must have gotten around. Maybe Luke said something in passing about you being stuck with window patrol while they did repairs. Maybe Jennifer was worried that you were being treated poorly.

Maybe Joel doesn't want you as his partner anymore.

That seems the most likely and somehow stings the most. A thought skitters across your brain like an unwelcome insect that makes your face grow cloudy.

"Did Joel tell you I'm bad on patrols or something? Is that the real reason you're here?"

"No. Joel never said you were bad on patrols."

If Tommy's lying he's doing a damn good job of it. Still, it feels like he's editing himself, holding something back.

You swallow, feeling a lump forming there. Part of you thinks it would be so easy to give in and agree to stopping. So easy to never have to put up with Joel's snide remarks or the panic you feel outside the gates.

But there is something in the loss of that challenge that frightens you more. Something that feels worse than useless, it feels like cowardice. Something that feels like The Group wins even if they hold no power over you anymore. You suppose that's what motivates you to address Tommy with what you hope sounds like confidence.

"I'd like to continue with them," you say to the ground at his feet. "If that's okay with you."

"You sure?"

You nod, watching an uneasy smile spread across his handsome features. Like he shouldn't be glad about your response but is.

"All right, then. I'll skip my next stop."

He leaves with a wave and you watch him trudging through the snow out the window, your arms coming to wrap around yourself, but not because of the cold.

///

"Focus and aim."

You grit your teeth before narrowing your eyes and focusing all your attention on the empty tin can sitting on the fence. It's cold today, biting, and the scarf you wear wraps around the lower half of your face.

You hold the weapon as you've been training, aiming with not your right eye but your left.

You inhale, your ears pricked at every sound. All the birds chattering in the trees, the wind that blows the faraway sound of the townspeople. Even Jennifer's light breathing behind you. You make it all go quiet.

"Fuck I can't. It's too loud out here."

"Loud?" Jennifer glances around the two of you, completely alone in the field.

"Yeah. Birds, wind, echoes...."

You shift restlessly before bringing the shotgun back up to your eye level. You want to get this right.

"Think of something calming," Jennifer urges, her eyes falling over your face as you focus. "Something that makes everything go quiet."

Something that makes everything go quiet.

Something calm.

Something that quells the frenetic beating of you heart.

Something that gives you that sweet blissful escape.

You try to think of that first sip of tea after a long day. How it mixes with the honey on your tongue, how you savor it. But it's not enough.

You think of the way running water sounds.

The sensation of sunlight on your bare shoulders.

The soft muzzle of Chesnut.

Joel.

His dark eyes meeting yours when you knelt at his feet that last time. When his hand went to your cheek.

That's when everything felt safe and quiet.

Jennifer seems to notice the steadying of your breathing because she nods approvingly as you let out a slow exhale.

"Now shoot."

You don’t want to think of Joel. He can’t be your safe thought. You force your mind to think of something else.

Making pastries with Ellie.

The sound Chestnut makes when he eats carrots.

Your sisters smile.

You pull the trigger, feeling as the weapon kicks back against your braced shoulder. The sound of the blast makes you wince.

The can doesn't even move a fraction.

"So close!" Jennifer insists, shielding her eyes from the glare of the grey sky on the snow. "It definitely grazed it."

"Won't do much good grazing a clicker," you frown, lowering the weapon. Wind whips stray strands of your hair against your ruddy cheek.

Oh c'mon now," Jennifer says trying to rouse your spirits. "We've been practising for weeks and you're getting so much better."

When Tommy came to offering you the repeat of patrols, you should have taken him up on it. And yet something churned within your guts. Insisted that you continue on with Jennifer's coaching trying to perfect your shooting skills.

Because there is no Chiyo. No protector. No benevolent figure to save you. It's just you now. You and you alone. And months ago the thought would have terrified you into never leaving your home. It would have burst into grateful tears at the thought of being let off the hook.

But something's been changing these last few months, something that gets stronger with every lesson Jennifer gives you, with every gallop atop of Chestnut. Something that whispers: not useless.

You kick at a stray patch of dirty snow, angry at yourself. You want to be better but it's taking so long. You want to feel more confident on patrols but your aim isn't progressing fast enough for you. You want to prove yourself not useless.

"Alright Smiley," Jennifer says slinging a companionable arm around your shoulder. "Let's go have breakfast."

///

Breakfast on cold days is always something warm like eggs or oatmeal with honey. Often there's hot chocolate which you take gratefully between your hands today. You make a note to pack one for patrols in the Thermos you keep at home.

You sit across from Jennifer who is back lit by the morning sun and looks like a goddess. How is Joel not more obvious in his intention for her? He's handsome but he's also at least fifty. He shouldn't be so picky with his personality the way it is.

But then again from what you've seen there's a certain air around Joel wherever he goes. One that has women of all ages smiling shyly and stammering when he's in the vicinity. Once you saw one woman drop an entire bag of yarn when he walked by in town. She didn't notice for a full three minutes.

"So how did baking go with Ellie?"

You're surprised by this question. You'd assumed that the whole baking with Ellie thing was private. You certainly haven't talked about it with anyone.

"Uh, how did-"

"She's going around telling eve ryone at school that she was baking with you," Jennifer laughs. "My friend Rebecca teaches her."

You recall meeting Rebecca a few weeks ago at one of Jennifer's big friendly breakfasts. One where you sat quietly listening to the chatting figures around you, being drawn into the odd conversation but mostly keeping quiet. You never feel quite comfortable around big crowds.

"It was nice," you offer, wrapping your fingers around the warm mug a little tighter.

You have no intention of telling her what actually occurred. You don't want to tell her about the trauma you endured before Jackson City or the pain that Ellie saw reflected in your eyes. Jennifer’s lips curl into a sensuous smile.

"Was Joel there?"

"Yeah, he was around for a bit."

You don't meet her eyes as you say this. And for some reason you don't mention to her that Joel made that second batch of pastries or that he wasn’t rough with how he spoke to you. The whole experience feels too private, too sacred. No matter what, you won't be sharing that information.

"Speaking of which..." Jennifer trails off, nodding her head towards the door of the dining hall. You don't even bother looking over your shoulder; you know that she's referencing Joel.

You try not to look stiff but you are. You're still unsure of how to act around him after everything that happened.

The two of you eat quietly as your mind goes back to that day on Rancher Street. You still don't know how you feel about Joel; you're still perplexed by his actions. One day he hates you the next day he can tolerate you. It's all very confusing and not a little irritating.

"He's staring over here," Jennifer says a short while later, trying not to move her lips when she speaks. "Keeps sneaking looks every few minutes."

You feel a grin spreading over your features as your friend smiles prettily, pretending she doesn't notice her crush. Maybe Joel isn't as thick as you thought and there is hope for the two of them.

Jennifer dabs a bit at the egg on her plate with her toast, her sleeves rolled up to showcase her delicate wrists.

"So, you gonna ask him out?"

"Nah," Jennifer shakes her head before taking a long pull from her coffee mug. "Joel's an old fashioned guy. I can't see him being into that."

It strikes you as humorous that things like old-fashioned men are still a thing. After the world has gone to rot, you're still shocked that certain socially expected norms exist.

"Maybe that's what he needs though," you offer diplomatically. "A kick in the pants from a pretty lady."

"There's plenty else I'd like to do with his pants."

You make a face and the two of you collapse into hushed laughter, tilting over your breakfasts. Jennifer claps a hand over your shoulder in amusement; her laughed ebbing when you flinch at the contact. Her eyes study you a moment before a voice behind you breaks in.

"Mind if I join you two?"

Luke stands looking down at the both of you with a charming smile. His hair is mussed, obviously just woke it up. You're struck with how handsome he is in the early light of the day.

"Course not," you say smiling up at him.

He takes a seat next to Jennifer, his thick-lashed eyes on you.

"Sorry I couldn't make it to practice this morning. Was tired from last night."

"Karaoke at the Bison, right?" Jennifer laughs. "Wish I could have been there to see that. I had to help the ladies with a textile emergency."

"Where were you?" Luke asks, chewing his toast as he stares at you.

"Reading," you admit with a shy glance at your fork. "I like reading in front of the fire in cold weather."

You always have. It's a safety for you in many ways. Curled under a blanket with the fire hissing and your latest paperback in your hands. Something nostalgic and beautiful about the written word surviving everything.

"Hopefully the window we repaired held up in all this snow," Luke offers, glancing over his shoulder out the window. Flakes are falling gently.

"I'm sure it did, you guys are all good at that stuff," you offer kindly. Jennifer watches you and Luke with a look of satisfaction, like Cupid after a successful mission.

"You excited about patrols?" he grins over at you.

"How could I not be? I get to go with Mr. Congeniality," you drop your eyes to your plate when you hear Luke and Jennifer giggle.

You feel buoyed by their laughter, it takes you back to a time in life when you enjoyed making people laugh. Funny cartoons about teachers sketched on lined paper. Giggling behind hands as they were passed between desks.

"With my luck though he'll tell me I'm riding my horse wrong," you joke, encouraged on by their twittering laughter.

"Or hell, maybe I'm breathing wrong," you drop your voice several octaves, adopting Joel's twang. "Too much inhalin' enough exhalin'."

When you don't hear laughter at this you look up from your eggs to see that both Luke and Jennifer have started to grimace, looking over your shoulder.

"Just got the word that we gotta head out early today."

Fuck.

Your shoulders go to your ears in embarrassment as you feel Joel's tall body standing behind you.

"Looks like there's gonna be heavy snow this afternoon," Joel's rumbling baritone informs you the back of your head.

"Okay," you tell him, shooting only a brief look at him over your shoulder before dropping your eyes back to your eggs because you're too humiliated to completely turn around. "I'll join you when we're done breakfast."

You need a few minutes to collect yourself. You know Joel just heard everything. You need to regroup, maybe get advice from Jennifer on how to handle this.

"No time to wait," Joel insists, his tone flat. "S'go."

You feel Luke and Jennifer staring at you during this exchange and you clench your jaw tightly in irritation.

"I'll bus your tray," Jennifer offers quietly across from you. "You go on."

You shoot her a grateful look, nodding as you stand. Joel is waiting there at your back, heavy eyes staring at you as you pull your jacket on. He's already got the backpack on, a gun strapped to him.

You follow him wordlessly out the dining hall and towards the front gates where Midnight and Chestnut wait for you. Joel gives you the second gun, waiting for you to throw it over your shoulder before watching you hoist yourself up on Chestnut.

"You ok there?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You shoot back.

Fuck, he's already starting in on you. Probably pissed off since he caught you mocking him. He says nothing in response as he pulls himself up on Midnight, throwing a long leg over the horse's black coat.

You give a wave to Hank before the gates are opened and you and Joel ride out. As always you follow his lead, eyes on the horizon as Tommy's words full your head.

Raiders. Be more careful.

It would be just your luck to run into them. Or clickers. The thought makes you feel nauseated. You're still not a good enough shot. Grazing isn't killing.

"Did Tommy tell you about-"

"The Raiders? Yeah."

He doesn't offer more than that.

Joel is quiet today, maybe even thoughtful. He doesn't speak to you on the way out to Teton Village but it's not with that same hostility that usually surrounds him. It's just regular quiet. He's not rude, but he's not friendly either. If the two of you were even acquaintances you'd think he was miffed with you. As it is the two of you travel on in silence until Teton.

It’s your week to check the traps and despite your fears, you feel more confident with a bit of firearms training from Jennifer. Despite this you find yourself sticking closer to Joel during this walk into the forest.

You circle the tall trees, jacket catching on a thick gnarled tree trunk before you tug it off. Joel doesn't angrily chastise you when you trip over a wet patch because of it and bump into his back. He just goes rigid, waiting for you to right yourself before continuing on.

“Watch your step.”

Your shotgun is out, aimed at whatever you hear in the underbrush which just turns out to be birds. Snow begins, dusting your shoulders as the two of you head back to the tied horses. The traps were empty, a good and bad sign all in one.

You’re paranoid as you travel to the outpost, your eyes scanning the horizon and the passing landmarks looking for anything that could be a danger. Clicker. Person. Your talks with Ellie of The Group have you suffering from nightmares lately and that bleeds into your day, making you convinced you can see a shock of red hair or a hyena-like female laugh.

But that’s impossible.

You travel in tense silence all the way to Teton Village. The snow crunches under the hooves of the horses and you're thankful that the snow has taken a reprieve, leaving it just grey and blustery.

Soon enough you are at the village, about to do your normal rounds of the perimeter. You're confused when Joel leads you towards outpost building instead. You tie up the horses across the street and down a few houses, much to your increasing confusion.

The wood creaks under your boots as the two of you make your way up to the outpost. You stop in front of the door, hand going to the lock. His voice is at your back, quiet. You feel him standing close behind you, likely waiting for you to make a mistake.

"You remember the new code?"

"Mhm."

You're pleased with yourself when you do and it unlocks without issue. You make your way inside, smiling to yourself as you kick off the excess snow from your boots and head towards the storage room.

Joel is close behind you and memories of the lingering moments you shared inside this very room make themselves known when you feel yourself slick between your legs. You hate yourself for it just a bit, the way your body betrays you.

"Gonna check that the window's holdin' up. You handle the log book."

You nod, going to the waiting page and scribbling your names inside along with the time. Joel makes his way up the creaking steps, and you watch as his long legs carry him. After a moment you hear some hammering and assume that there are a few things in need of minor repair or additional reinforcement.

You take this moment to scan some of the past entries, the most recent from the last group who was in here a few days ago.

Repairs look great. Thanks.

You take a minute to flip back, curious to see old passages from former patrols. You never really took the time to do so. Varieties of handwriting and printing fill some of the pages.

Donated Blankets (x4), jerky rations replaced (x4), water bottles (x4), matches (x1 box). HTH’s do not work here. Too much static. Nails and hammers needed for repair to library flooring.

Cramped writing, sprawling letters, so distinct and so personal. You keep flipping until you come upon last December 25th’s entry.

All I want for Christmas is to not be living in the apocalypse.

You smirk and turn the page back, finding the same handwriting a few months prior.

Who wants to go skiing?

Your smirk turns into a small giggle before you turn back to almost two years ago, eyes alighting on a longer entry that wipes the amusement from your face.

Infectected spotted near Weston’s Pharmacy during AM patrol. One woman; Bloater, one child; Stalker. Both shot and killed. No injuries to patrol members.

You wince as you read this just as Joel trudges down the steps. He must be finished with repairs. You watch as he grabs some of the feed for the horses from his bag and leaves without saying a word. He reappears moments later, shaking the snow irritated from his broad shoulders.

"S'really comin' down,” he murmurs as the two of you take your places at the table. He pushes your sandwich and thermos towards you across the table, sitting in the opposite chair and sighing.

"I like the snow," you murmur as you chew thoughtfully, eyes turned skyward out the window.

"Won't like it when we have to ride back in it," Joel huffs between bites. He chews aggressively as if the universe conjured up the snow just to personally upset him.

He's right though, riding back in it doesn't seem very fun. Lunch is a quick thing, both of you quiet before Joel tosses back a swig of his coffee and tells you he's going to fix up some loose boards upstairs.

You don't offer to help because you know there's not a chance he'll want it. Besides, your job is to be on lookout when he does repairs in case the sound draws attention. You finish your lunch, draining your thermos of its hot chocolate. You’re feeling the chill extra strong today.

Joel reappears not too long after hoisting his gun over his back. You look at him in curiosity because Joel looks like he's getting himself ready to leave.

"You stay here, understand? Have your gun out, go stand watch."

Everything in you goes rigid. Years of carefully anticipating the changing moods of your captors gives you a sixth sense, like rumbling thunder announcing a storm.

Danger.

"Why?"

"I'm gonna go check out the other buildings on foot," he explains in a quiet rasp. "See if the Raiders rumor was true."

"Okay, I'll come with-"

"No."

His voice is low and sharp, broaching no argument. You stare at him, gaze traveling between his endless eyes, blinking rapidly a moment.

"I need you here coverin' me from that window"

He points to the southern window you were posted at last time. You nod at first before something stops you. You're not good with a gun, not yet. Especially at far distances. And Joel knows it.

You don't mention this fact. Joel knows better than anyone that your shooting skills leave much to be desired. This is busy work.

"But what if something happens to you?"

Joel's eyes sweep your face.

"You're gonna hide." Joel starts for the bottom of the stairs, hand on the dusty railing. "Come with me."

You follow him quietly, both sets of boots pounding the old wood steps as he leads you to one of the smaller rooms you don't often visit.

It's cramped with peeling wallpaper and extra lumber and nails. It must be the storage room for such things. You notice the cord hanging from the center of the ceiling.

Joel reaches up and grabs hold of it, tugging until it opens the hatch that lets down a wooden ladder. It's like the attic from your house when you were a kid.

"Reinforced it after the window last week so I know it's sturdy," Joel informs you, dragging a thumb along the ladders edge. "You hear anything that sounds like yelling or guns n' you climb up this ladder and use the rope to pull it up after you."

You tell yourself to be calm. That this won't happen. That Joel is an excellent shot. But you've seen too much in this world to live in that fantasy.

"What if they find it?"

"You keep quiet and blow their fucking head off when they climb up. It's your best option.... Your only option."

"Why wouldn't I go to the horses? Escape that way?"

"If I'm dead, trust me you won't be able to outrun ‘em. Your best bet is to lay low until a search party comes the next day."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna leave this pulled down.”

Then he's going downstairs again, making sure you know exactly where to stand at the window so that you're covered by the majority of the shutters' frame. You nod, listening intently as you gaze at him. The thick chord of his neck, the way his shoulders make him look formidable.

Is this the last time you'll ever see Joel Miller alive?

You don't like that sensation that accompanies such a concept. Ellie would be without a father. The girl has already been through enough.

"But nothing will happen, right?"

Joel pauses, dark eyes scanning your face. He must see something in it because his voice holds no malice.

"Nothing bad will happen."

You don't believe him. You don't like the way his eyes dart over your face, like he's trying to look for something.

"Do you understand everything I've told you?"

You nod.

"If you hear a gunshot you climb up into that attic."

"But-"

"Say it," Joel commands, the patience is slowly ebbing from his voice.

"Okay."

"You'll do what I say?"

"Yes. If I hear a gunshot or a scream I'll go up to the attic. I'll be quiet and if I have to I'll shoot them when they come up the ladder. Otherwise I wait for the search party."

"Good girl."

He says it brusquely as he brushes past you and down the stairs. You don't have time to ask him anything else because he's already at the front door.

He casts one look at you over his shoulder, confusing you with his stare before the door shuts behind him.

And now you’re alone in this crumbling building. A sitting duck if Joel is captured or worse, killed.

You wanted to stay on patrols. You wanted this you fucking fool.

You ready yourself at the window, watching as the tall figure of Joel makes his way through the snow. His curls float around his head in the wind and you feel a pang of anxiety at the thought of them splattered with his blood.

You watch the surrounding area for any movement and for once you think this is what you need to be doing. This is what you're good at. This is what you trained for in all those years entering abandoned buildings and scouring old barns for The Group.

You can keep Joel safe.

There is no movement aside from his tall frame, and yet you still keep your gun raised, cocked and ready should you need it to be used. The snow makes it difficult though. Flakes are getting heavy and puffy, making it hard, but not impossible, to track Joel.

You watch his long muscled legs work their way across the terrain, gun raised, body poised for attack. You marvel at how even from where you watch him high above he still gives a feeling of protector, of big. Of safe.

Soon enough Joel's frame moves behind the pharmacy, out of your eye line and you exhale slowly.

He didn't say where he was going or for how long. An easy oversight, but in moments like this it feels unforgivable.

Ten minutes go by.

Then twenty.

Then thirty.

As you watch out the window with your gun poised you can't help but marvel at how quickly snow is blanketing the ground. Joel's tracks in the snow have long been covered up.

When lightning steals across the sky and thunder booms loudly you feel it in your bones.

Thundersnow.

You’d heard some of the Wyoming long timers around town mention it at the Bison a few weeks back, but you’ve never actually witnessed it yourself. It’s surreal to see the snow drifting heavily as lightning cracks again.

The wind is picked up as well, whipping around the nearby trees. And yet you stand there like a statue, your gun aimed. It's only when you hear the distant whinny of one of the horses that you feel your heart leap to your throat.

Chestnut. Midnight.

In this weather they'll be suffering. Maybe even killed. You'd been so distracted by keeping vigilant over Joel that you hadn't even cast a second thought to them. Your body instinctively steps back from the window, eyes scanning over your shoulder.

He told you not to move.

But he didn't know it was going to be a blizzard like this.

You wrap the scarf around your neck and lower half of your face, stumbling out the door with your gun in front of you. You’ll be fast. You’ll bring the horses in and be back to the window before Joel ever realizes.

You sink into the snow easily; it comes just above your mid-calf over your boots. And it doesn't show signs of stopping any soon. It's so high that it immediately begins to seep into your boots, wetting your socks.

You feel as if you're waiting through quicksand. But it doesn't stop you and your dogged pursuit to reach the two animals huddled together under the tree. They shake aggressively, trying to avoid the falling flakes.

Snow blankets the two along their back and their manes. You watch Midnight give a particularly aggressive jerk of his head only to have more flakes accumulate from the swollen sky above. They morph into icy rain pelting down the back of your neck, your cheeks and your shoulders.

The horses are pulling at their reins and rearing up on their back legs as you approach.

"It's okay," you try to soothe, likely unheard over the storm. You reach your hand towards Chestnut’s bridle but he rears back at the clap of lightning that hits the sky at the same time.

“Chestnut it’s me! Calm down boy!”

You nearly scream when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You spin, aiming your gun shakily in front of you.

"S'me," the figure informs you. He pulls down his dark scarf and Joel's irritated expression is revealed.

"You scared me."

He doesn't answer this, simply grabs Midnight by his bridle and gives a sharp click of his tongue. Midnight struggles at first, but ultimately relents, trailing after Joel like an obedient child.

You quickly untie the slippery reigns from around the tree, attempting to tug at a very frightened Chestnut along. He comes down from his hind legs but his eyes are spooked. You slip in the wet snow, falling to your knees and hissing in pain. You grit your teeth, standing and attempting to pull Chestnut again.

"S'okay," you soothe, pulling him gently. He fights you, head twisting and the lightning cracks the sky. "Chestnut - C'mon-"

A sharp clap of thunder has him trying to pull from your grasp. You cry out as the reign rasps brutally around your knuckles.

"Chestnut! Stop!" You shout, panicking as the horse continues to jerk away from you.

Joel is back, his boots kicking against the deep snow. You feel him brush against your shoulder, large hand covering yours.

"Give 'em here," he grunts, taking the reins from you and tugging forcefully. "C'mon, C'mon, get goin'."

Chestnut whinnies terrified and you back up as his hooves shoot out anxiously. Joel grunts again before his fist jerks the reign brutally.

"Enough!"

Chestnut responds to this, eyes going to Joel and cowering. You watch in amazement as Chestnut bows his head, following after Joel with no more hesitation or defiance.

The three of you head into the outpost building, dripping with wet snow as you enter. Midnight is in the main room staggering at the side. Joel shifts his hand and urges Chestnut to follow, closing the door behind you as you enter.

"Sometimes you gotta be rough to get ‘em to listen," Joel explains, handing the reins off to you. "S'the only way to keep ‘em safe."

You don't know that you agree with that assessment. You unhook the reigns from Chestnut before pressing a soft kiss to his twitching muzzle. You whisper soothing words, waiting for your dear horse to stop his shaking.

"We'll leave ‘em in here for tonight," Joel says to them before looking over at you. You’re shivering, eyes wide. You must look a fright as you cast a wide-eyed look around the room.

“The door is locked right?”

“’Course.”

You both breathe heavily a moment, your eyes on his red cheeks.

"Did you see anything?"

"Nothin'," Joel informs you, shaking the flakes off his shoulder angrily. "Even if there was someone there's no fucking way to see 'em in this mess."

You're still shivering as you nod at him, following him up the windy creaking steps to the large former Library. Joel disappears into the logbook room and appears with a plastic box matches. You stand shivering and watching him kneeling in front of the hearth, using his pocket knife to make kindling and before long a fire begins.

"S'only good thing about this weather," Joel mutters to the hearth. "No one'll see the smoke."

His broad back ripples as he shoulders of his soaked jacket. It lands onto the wood floor with a plop. You watch as he kneels there, urging the flames to lick up into the kindling, blowing gently to get it to catch. You’re hypnotized at his acumen for this, as if he were meant to live out on the land. He loads the dry lumber over the now crackling flame before letting out a tired sigh.

"I told you not to leave."

You swallow, needing him to know that it wasn't insolence or even defiance that made you leave.

"I know, but the horses-"

Joel isn't listening to you; he's loading more wood into the hearth shaking his head in poorly concealed frustration.

"You don't fuckin' listen to me."

"I do so," you insist to the back of his head. "I just didn't today because there was something more important."

He stands, knees cracking and fixes you with a stern look. Just like that it's back to the old dynamic. Him like a dark black blanket over your body. Weighting you down with his effortless dominance

"I had it handled."

"How could I know that? I didn't see you."

"Patrol partners need to trust one another. That's why this ain't workin'."

At his words something clicks in your brain and the answer to your earlier question is so fucking obvious you’re embarrassed you didn’t put two and two together earlier.

"It was you who told Tommy to take me off patrols, wasn't it?"

Joel is silent, jaw set, left thumb and forefinger pressing together so tightly the tips go white.

"You had no fucking right to do that." You sniffle angrily, wrapping your damp jacket around your shoulders. "You go on about trust and you're the one going behind my back trying to get me kicked off."

"You shouldn't be out here," Joel insists. He sucks at his teeth.

"You don't get to say what I do."

"You're here ain't you? Doesn't matter what I say."

"You're such a-"

Joel's eyes flash and his hand is held between you, almost like you're a wild animal he's trying to hold at bay. But you think it’s the opposite.

"Don't," Joel warns voice barely above a whisper. "Don't start that."

Something in his voice terrifies you as much as it enrages you. So when hot tears prick the back of your eyes you're not sure which is the cause.

"Do you just hate me that much, Joel?"

You despise how small your voice sounds. Joel huffs a sigh, eyes closing briefly.

"S'not about that."

"What is it then?"

He just shakes his head and strides away from you towards the log room. You follow at his heels like a needy puppy. You push your soaked hair from your eyes, feeling your wet clothing weighting you down as you pursue him.

"Joel."

He ignores you, long legs carrying him quicker, boots scraping the floor.

"Why don't you want me on patrols?"

He begins to pull down one of the boxes from the shelving ignoring you.

"Answer me, please.”

It's not until you reach out a hand and grab his shoulder that he spins abruptly as if you've burnt him. He doesn't touch you; he just shakes off your hand and fixes you with a level stare that has you stepping back. Your feet slip in your boots and you realize you must look a sight, soaked to the skin, eyes red and chin wobbling.

Joel tilts his neck down, making sure to hold your gaze with his own.

"After all that shit you went through with those people? Why the fuck woul-"

He stops himself, the next word bit back, his eyes on the ground. The silence expands as understanding blooms in your face. You feel your jaw crack, eyes narrowing.

"You spied on me when I was talking to Ellie."

"S'a house, not a fucking football field," Joel sneers. "Sound carries."

Before you can say anything more you shiver. Despite the warmth of the fire in the next room you feel the chill of the damp creeping into your bones. Joel observes this and with a head tilt encourages you to follow him into the storage room.

You find yourself too exhausted to badger him further about patrols. Nothing will change in the next twenty four hours. So you follow in close pursuit, watching as he goes to one of the shelves and pulls out a duffel bag. Inside are two blankets, a few bottles of water and some rations.

"Strip and put this on," Joel says pulling out and then shoving a blanket at you. You take it into your arms gratefully before belatedly hearing what he told you.

Strip?

"Unless you feel like catching a cold. Be my guest," Joel adds when you hesitate. He takes the duffel and heads into another room, slamming the door behind him.

You go into the bathroom, the door creaking shut.

You're completely soaked from head to toe. It feels like you've had a freezing bath. And yet you hesitate a full minute before you realize that if you keep these clothes on there's a very good chance you're going to get seriously ill. And while Jackson City had a lot of amenities. antibiotics are always in short supply.

You strip hurriedly, your fingers shaking with cold. Your hair is squeezed and excess water circles the old sink. The clothing is squeezed as well as you try to wring out as much of the damp as possible.

You think about keeping your panties on because the thought of being completely bare under the blanket around Joel is far too daunting. But then the option of freezing in soaking under things doesn't seem like a better option.

The blanket is warm and when wrapped around you shoulders it hits you mid-calf. If you tuck it between your legs is almost like wearing a toga. You do, wrapping it so that only your arms and bottom of your legs poke out. You have the passing wonder if this is one of the blankets Jennifer made during her times in textiles.

You bring your clothes out with you, padding over barefoot to the large fireplace Joel has already begun stoking. He wears the blanket similar to you, tucked tightly around his broad frame. But one arm is out, the muscles glinting in the warmth of the fire’s glow.

"We don't normally do this," Joel explains, always in teacher mode. "Don't wanna attract attention. But desperate times n' all that."

You hang your clothes over a chair from the supply room and drag it towards the fireplace as Joel's dark eyes dart to see what you're up to.

"I was gonna put ‘em by the fire to dry," you explain. "You want me to wring yours out too?"

"Nah, I'll do mine," Joel replies. There's no snark left, his attention is fixed on the fire that's building there. You’re both just too tired to be prickly with one another.

A quick glance out the window confirms that the snow is still falling. So you're stuck for at least a couple more hours.

Great.

"Fuck that feels good," you say dropping to your knees and holding your palms to the fire. Joel's eyes swim over you before he fixes them on the roaring flames. His eyes are so dark they showcase the bright embers when you glance at them.

Everything is cold and damp. Your feet are numb from the snow and you hiss when the circulation begins in them again. Joel goes to wring out his clothes, bringing them back with another chair and propping it beside yours.

Joel drags the couch close to the fireplace, setting it down with a groan as his knees creak before collapsing onto it with a grunt. It looks more comfortable than kneeling on the floor and so you join him.

You knee brushes his as you take your seat, the fabric of the quilts rasping against one another. You try not to be offended when Joel jerks his knee away from you.

You get it. He doesn't like you. Can't stand to be around you if there's not another person as a buffer. But does he have to be so immature about it? You have a moment of concern when you think of your last buffer, Ellie.

"Will Ellie be okay tonight?"

"Yeah, Tommy'll make sure she is until I get back."

"How does he know when you'll be back?"

"He doesn't." Joel stokes the fire absently with a nearby stick. "When we don't come back at our usual time they'll usually give it a few hours and then come looking for us."

"Usually?"

"With a storm like this? They won't make it far. They'll figure we hit the same and're hunkered down somewhere. If we aren't back by tomorrow afternoon and the snow is clear then they'll send a group out. S'protocol."

"Oh."

The two of you lapse into quiet contemplation as the crackling fire sounds.

The house feels so big and with the sun going down it feels almost frightening. You’ve never been in this place in the dark. You don’t like how open the room is, how many shadows and walls exist. You miss your little home with its plain walls and minimal walls. You fantasize about how a bath would feel so luxurious at this moment.

You sniffle again, burying your face into the blanket a moment to warm it. The fire is definitely helping, but you wish it was bigger and the room less drafty.

Joel isn’t saying anything but he’s not scowling like he usually is when you glance over at him.

"Is Ellie doing any more baking?"

"Nope. Think she's more partial to just eatin'."

“Sounds like her,” you smile before pausing and adding: “Your pastries were good.”

Joel hums a response and emboldened by his openness you continue.

“I didn’t know you baked.”

“I don’t. Just followed the recipe you had on the counter.”

“Oh.”

Joel doesn't try to extend the conversation so you fall silent again as you go back to the floor and move closer to the fire. The flames warm your cheeks and your front. A cool drop of water runs down your spine under the blanket and you shudder.

You kneel a bit closer to the fire and gingerly move your hair over one shoulder, trying to dry it the best you can. As you do you feel the blanket slip down over your back, exposing your neck down to your shoulder blade. You hurriedly pull your quilt back up over your shoulder, heart pounding.

"M'gonna check the horses."

Joel lurches up from the couch, not waiting for your reply. You don't watch him go, finding you don't care to see his sullen expression. You're not sure which is worse, the ‘rude but communicative when needed’ Joel or this strange withdrawn creature that's replaced him.

Joel is gone for a little while. Much longer than it takes to check on the horses, but you don't mind. You like having a bit of quiet to fall under the spell of the flickering flames.

You wonder what Jennifer would think of this, being stuck in an isolated space with Joel overnight.

She'd be in heaven.

You smirk at this, knowing she'd take full advantage of the situation. Probably flutter her lashes and let the blanket slip open ever so slightly, giving Joel a flash of breast before faking modesty. It would work, you're certain of it. Joel strikes you as someone who likes the soft curves of a woman, perhaps because of what Maria said.

You can't wait to return home tomorrow. To have coffee in Jennifer's cheery house and update her on any and all Joel lore you uncover. It won't be much judging by his conversational skills so far. But you will be able to report that Joel Miller has very nice calves. You saw a flash of them when he got up.

Jennifer will have a field day with that information; she probably won't leave her bed for a week.

Joel returns eventually, his eyes refusing to meet yours. He comes back with the remaining two blankets from the duffel, throwing one over your legs. He sits on the far end of the couch, warming himself with the second blanket over himself. You tuck yourself on the other end, the two of you quiet as you watch the fire.

You think about ancient times when all creatures had was fire and an open sky to pass the time. When the air was free of chemicals and the landscape open instead of crowded with infrastructure. You wonder what they would make of your world now. Would they secretly cheer that nature has slowly begun to reclaim its earth?

Time passes and soon enough the sky through the window grows dark and the air grows colder. You start to shiver slightly and Joel adds more lumber to the fire. You think back to last week when you’d all had those brownies to share. You think back to this morning with your hot chocolate.

"Wish I didn't drink all my hot chocolate," you sniff with a sigh as you burrow back on the creaking sofa. You're not saying it for pity, more just to fill the quiet.

"We have some coffee left," Joel offers.

You’re surprised when he moves to grab the Thermos from his bag next to him beside the couch. You can't help but notice how muscular his bare arms are when he does. You take it from him, eyes on his large hand.

"Thanks," you reply, taking a small sip.

Even though you don’t drink coffee often you don't want to waste it. It warms you and the jerky he hands you along with it moments later makes the encroaching hunger fade. Joel takes the Thermos back from you, also taking a ginger sip before twisting on the cap and sighing.

"I miss real coffee."

Joel never talks about the past, not really. Never about his life before this. You've had to stitch his back-story together with patches of information gathered over your time and interactions with Ellie.

So this little glimmer, this tiny piece of him sticks out to you. It rattles in your bones and burrows deep in your brain.

I miss real coffee.

"The stuff they make in the dining hall doesn't do it for you?" You prompt, wanting him to share more, finding that you're desperate for a little more Joel.

"That's not real coffee," Joel scoffs. "That's instant shit. It all is."

You've never had real coffee either so you don't know if the derision is warranted. You’d always been a tea drinker yourself. You watch him slurp back the contents of his thermos while your mind is a million miles away.

Coffee. Joel likes coffee. Real Coffee. Joel drinking coffee. Real Coffee.

Did Joel go to cafes? Did he go to Starbucks and sit reading? Did he drink coffee with silly names and lots of whipped cream? Did women blush and stammer when a young Joel slid by them to grab cream or sugar?

You imagine a world before this one. One where you could have met in a cafe. Bumped into each other as you both reached for a cup. Classic meet cute. Then you remember this is Joel Miller. He would have scowled at you and told you to get your own coffee. The thought amuses you.

Soon enough the combination of the warm drink and the stress of the day gets to you. Your eyes begin to drift shut, your head slowly falling forward before you catch yourself. Joel must notice this because he clears his throat.

“We’ll take turns on watch,” Joel informs you. “You sleep first, I’ll get next. We’ll do four hour switches.”

“Okay.”

You don’t ask why you need to be on watch during a storm. You trust that Joel is right about it. Joel may be an asshole, but he’s an educated one. And so far during everything he has not let you down. He has been rough, he has been unpleasant but he has been there through it all. Joel Miller will protect you. You don’t know why tonight is when you decide this is true, but you do.

You burrow into your blankets, thankful for them. It’s not exactly warm, but it does the job. You still feel a little strange cuddled there completely bare underneath. It makes it hard to get comfortable and fall asleep but you eventually do.

You wake up what feels like no time at all later. Your hair is partially dried and the fire is still going steadily. You blink down your body to see you’ve stretched out on the couch, your feel practically against Joel’s thigh.

He’s staring into the fire, a flask in one hand and the other over your ankle buried under the blanket. You don’t think he even realizes that your foot is there. When you start to shift his hand moves to his thigh, his dark eyes blinking over at you.

“Not been four hours.”

“Tell that to my body,” you say wryly. “Any more coffee left?”

“Nah.”

Between the blankets and the fire you shouldn’t feel this cold, should you? You glance over when you see Joel handing the silver flask out towards you.

“What’s that?”

“Whiskey. It’ll make you feel warm.”

“Where’d you find that?”

“My bag.”

You smile gently before you shift back into a seated position on the couch, wincing at the muscle pull in your neck from sleeping at such an awkward angle. You take the flask with a polite nod of your head.

“Thank you.”

You take the flask from him before bringing it gingerly to your lips. You take a deep pull from it, wincing when the astringent alcohol hits your tongue.

"Strong," you mumble.

But you’re delighted when you feel it scorch a warm trail from your throat all the way to your belly. You take another sip before screwing the top back on. Joel watches this, his features relaxed. You wonder if he isn’t a little drunk.

"How'd he get you outta there?"

His voice is a husky rasp, his mouth barely moving as he murmurs this at you. You take a moment to try and process what he’s asking you.

"Huh? Who?"

"Chi guy,” Joel says taking the flask back from you and taking a long pull. “You were in a group ‘a Raiders. Something tells me they wouldn't just let their best shot and their trusty bait walk off into the sunset together."

He hands the flask back to you and you take another sip. Minutes tick by and you’re not answering his first question, so you suppose Joel decides on another angle.

"The two of you fuck?"

You turn your head to face Joel, surprised. He’s got a strange expression on his face, his lids heavy, waiting for you response.

"Yeah.”

Joel takes the flask from you, holding it there in his palms, not drinking, just staring into the flames. "You like it?"

You shoot daggers at him. "Yes."

You're not lying. You did enjoy your times with Chiyo. While there wasn't a romantic aspect, you definitely felt taken care of during those times together.

Joel nods, lower lip protruding as he takes another pull of the flask. You’re thankful to him for bringing it

“How much did you hear of what I told Ellie?”

“Enough.” Joel swallows thickly.

The alcohol warms your veins and your belly and you start to relax.

"Did that Group.... Try things with you?"

It takes you a minute to parse what he's not saying out loud.

"No," you shake your head. "The women in the group were territorial that way. Besides they didn't see me like a person. More like a dog. They never spoke to me unless it was to order me around or feed me whatever leftovers they had. Kept me chained up at night so I couldn't escape."

Joel’s eye tics just a fraction as he listens to you. And for some reason whether it be the intimacy of sitting there with him before a fire or the whiskey working through your veins, you decide to share with Joel.

You think because he’s one of the few people who won’t pity you for it.

“So The Group… that’s what I called them. I never really learned their names. There were three men, two women. They had me with then for a few years. I was obedient for the most part because by the end I didn’t care if I lived or died. I did what they said and they weren’t kind to me, but they didn’t make me suffer as much as they could’ve. They took me to the bathroom, let me shower when there was time. But they never spoke to me directly unless it was to order me around.”

Joel is completely still, and the only movement comes from the shadow of the flames reflected in his dark eyes. You find you can’t look into them, instead finding the space between your bodies on the couch to do the job just fine. You tell the little patch of green your story.

"Wherever we stayed we always slept together in the same room. They said it was for safety but I know they just did it to keep an eye on everyone. The only one who was chained up at night was me. I was the bait after all. Chiyo was chained up for the first few months but he was a likeable guy. He earned their trust through action. He was a good shot and they liked having him around.”

You swallow.

“Well, in the last place the toilets didn’t work so there was an outhouse out back so Chiyo told me that he had a plan. He suggested they celebrate the hunting of the day with a little booze they had stashed in the supply bags. They were all for it. They chained me up and I just sat there watching them get drunker and drunker. After a few hours most of ‘em were passed out.”

You shift under the blankets, finding that you’re not really feeling the cold at all.

“So I did what Chi had told me. I told them I had to go to the bathroom. Chi was pretending to be drunk and he said that he would take me to the outhouse to make sure I didn’t get up to anything. They were so drunk I don’t even know if they heard us leave after he unchained me.”

Joel is still silent, still attentively listening. You wonder if this is all boring to him. If he’s seen much worse.

“So we go to the outhouse. Chi grabs the gun, I follow him back but he makes me stay outside the bedroom. He tells me that I shouldn’t see what’s going to happen. I wanted to help, but he insisted and I was in no position to fight him on it.”

You close your eyes, replaying the moment.

“So I stood there outside the door and I listened to him shoot each one in the head. Some of them were already passed out. One tried to fight back but like I said, Chi was a great shot. They didn’t stand a chance. Then we packed up and we left.”

You can still see it. The flash of blood and brain on the walls as Chi exited. The slumped over bodies as he tugged your wrist, urging you to follow him.

When your eyes open again Joel is offering you the flask. You take it gratefully, taking a ginger sip before handing it back. You don’t know what else to say, even as Joel rests his heavy gaze on you.

"You think less of him for it?"

"For killing the people that wouldn't even flinch if they had to kill me?" You scoff. "Not at all. I wish he'd hung them by their feet over a pit of ravenous clickers. Had them piss themselves in fear. I wish they could have seen their loved ones bit. I wish they could have watched as everything was taken from them and then I wish he’d slit their throats so they’d take longer to die."

You know that Joel is staring at you and it's likely because he's never seen this side to you. This ugly, twisted, hateful side that you try to keep hidden. This side that you soften under baked goods and paper flowers.

"Chi was right though about not letting me help him kill them," you confess quietly. “I’m not built for it.”

Joel is quiet, his body so still you think he’s gone rigid.

"He got bit not long before I got to the next QZ,” you explain. “And I couldn’t let him turn into one of those things.”

If Joel is surprised by your admission about Chiyo's death he makes no mention of it, his features remain stoic, his dark eyes moving back to the fire. You wish you could make sense of his expression, but you can’t, you don’t know him well enough.

“I still have nightmares about killing him and I don’t think those’ll ever go away,” you murmur to the flames. “You know, I remember thinking the doe we killed on that first patrol had eyes just like him. That same glossy dark color. Looked the same when he was dead, just staring up at me."

You don't speak much after that.

Not until a short while later when Joel’s flask is re-opened and the two of you take long pulls. The alcohol loosens you both up, you can tell in the lazy way you both lean into the couch.

The blankets and the couch and the fire lend you a feeling of comfort, of warmth and you think that perhaps this isn’t as bad as the situation could have been. That this Joel sitting by you feels different.

“If I'd known all that stuff, I never would've.... Joel trails off, still looking into the fire. "I'd have done things different when we started patrols."

"It shouldn't take someone's traumatic history for you to treat them decently," you say, feeling emboldened by the drink. You wait for his biting reply.

"You're right."

You're surprised by his easy agreement but you don't let it show. You find it hard to let a lot of how you feel show with Joel. Something in you always holds you back.

"I think you were just so... skittery," Joel offers to the flames. "Made me nervous."

"Oh."

As you look at him from the corner of your eyes in shock you think that when he's not scowling he's quite handsome. Strong masculine features, full lips. You can understand why Jennifer is attracted to him.

At that errant thought your mind goes to your friend. Jennifer. This is the perfect opportunity to talk her up like she's done with you to Luke.

"You know Jennifer was sa-"

"What’s with you and bringin’ up that Jennifer girl?" Joel cuts in, shooting you a glare. His old irritated expression is back, along with his tensed shoulders.

"I...uh..." You weren't expecting such vitriol. He crosses his arms in front of his chest like a petulant schoolchild.

"I've talked with her a handful of times," Joel says with a huff. "And I don't like how she stares at me."

"Except I've seen how you stare at her," you shoot back with a frown, defensive of your friend. "And flirt."

"Flirt?" Joel looks beside himself. "When s'at?"

"Agreeing to drinks at the Bison after patrols last time, calling her Jenny," you list these things off with ease. "Or how about staring at her during breakfast just this morning? She caught you doing it, you know."

Joel opens his mouth to say something but then slams it shut. He goes quiet and you know he must be remembering when he did all those things. You don't fault him, Jennifer is a beautiful woman.

"It's fine if you like her Joel, she likes you and-"

"I don't like her. I barely fuckin’ know her." He takes a swig from his flask. "I wish you'd stop bringin' her up."

"Okay. Sorry, I will."

“Good.”

Joel must be shy when it comes to crushes and you don't want to embarrass him further.

To you Joel is a forever enigma, someone who shares so little of himself. You feel almost owed information on his romantic past, as if because he heard your story you deserve his. You don’t know if that’s a fair assessment.

“I’ve never heard you talk about a woman. Was there anyone before Jackson City?”

“Yep.”

He doesn’t expand on this and you sigh heavily through your nose. You’re irritated that you’ve shared so much with someone who obviously doesn’t care to do the same with you. Perhaps you misjudged hi-

"There was a woman back in the Boston QZ," Joel's says in a voice that goes soft. "Tess. We smuggled together."

"What was she like?"

He shifts in his seat, the blanket tightening. He looks both irritated and impossibly wounded. He doesn’t look at you directly, more the wall over your shoulder when he addresses you.

"She was always in charge," he tells you in a voice that sounds detached from him. "I was the muscle."

This surprises you. Joel seems such a natural leader, such a confident force. They can't imagine him cowing to anyone, especially a woman.

"Did you like that?"

"I liked hurtin' people at times, yeah."

You don't have to ask him why he liked hurting people because the answer is clear. It was better to cause pain in others when it helped distract from the gaping wound within Joel Miller in the shape of his lost daughter.

"No, I meant did you like Tess being in charge?"

"Sometimes," Joel relents. "Was nice not to have to plan and organize and everythin'. Could just exist for a bit."

You imagine Joel back in the QZ with a beautiful woman who warmed his bed and you feel a strange twisting in your stomach. She was tough. The opposite of you, you think. You're soft. Too soft for this world at times.

"Did you guys..." You trail off, feeling strangely insecure. You shouldn't after everything he asked about you, and yet it still feels like a boundary crossed.

He sneers at you.

"I'm a man ain’t I?"

You don't say anything in response to that.

Your assessment had been correct – Joel liked strong, tough women. Women like Jennifer who could be feminine but hard when they needed to be. Women like this Tess who you just know was beautiful.

The fire crackles in front of you, leaving you drowsy and almost hypnotized. It makes you momentarily forget that you and Joel aren't people who usually talk to one another.

“Were you in love with her?”

You want to know about the woman who caught his attention, who he talks of with such reverence.

"I tried," Joel finally answers, but you can see the weight of it behind his eyes. "Couldn't give it to her in the way she wanted though."

You wish you knew what Tess looked like, what she sounded like when she laughed and if she was a good shot. You wonder if they teased each other affectionately or if it was all seriousness and hard fucking. You wonder if he fucked her mouth like did yours. You wonder if they slept together, limbs entwined, breathing even.

You feel a stab of jealousy that he had that. At least twice if the sporadic history you’ve learned of him is correct. Two women who held him, two women who loved him. A man as recalcitrant as him found two separate women to care for him. And you? What do you have?

"I don't need love," you confess to him him with a labored sigh, eyes drifting half shut sleepily. "Wouldn't know what to do with it if I had it. I just wanna be someone's only."

"Someone’s only?"

"Like the only one they see," you explain with a yawn. "The only one they take to bed and kiss and all that stuff."

Joel makes a soft humming sound as he digests what you're saying.

You snuggle further into the blankets, watching the fire in the hearth and wondering what it must have been like to be in this big library back when it held hundreds of books. You wonder what sort of people sat in the very room you and Joel reside in. Did they study, their eyes going blurry the longer they stared at the pages? Did they sneak off to kiss in the stacks, nervous fumbling fearful of being caught?

Libraries have their own sort of life within them after all, it’s easy to imagine the dusty floorboards and the peeling wallpaper restored to its former glory. Can almost hear the soft ‘shhhh’ of an eagle-eared librarian. The world before seems romantic and nostalgic in moments like this.

If only you’d enjoyed it to the fullest.

Your mind drifts to the embers, red hot and pulsing. It reminds you of blood pooling in a gaping mouth.

"Joel, do you think the infected are still conscious?"

He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

"Huh?"

"I mean, like, do you think that they're trapped in their bodies still knowing what's happening but unable to stop it?" You wince at the thought. "Not able to control their bodies but still self aware?"

"I sure fucking hope not," Joel says quietly.

"Me too. Jennifer said that th-“

You stop yourself with a sharp wince, but Joel has heard you and he rolls his eyes.

“Why're you always bringing up that Jennifer girl?"

You shrug, embarrassed. "I guess because she's like, my only friend."

"Ellie'll be devastated to hear that."

Warmth floods you at that. Ellie, your sweet little pal. The girl with the bite that puts her trust in you of all people.

"Yeah I guess she is too," you say with a rueful grin. "She must be pretty desperate to have a grown woman as a friend."

"She's discerning," Joel mutters. "She doesn't waste her time on idiots."

You think that this is as close to a compliment that Joel's ever given you outside of sexual interactions. It gives you pause.

"I like how honest Ellie is," you offer. "It can be brutal at times, but I like that I know where I stand with her."

Joel smiles at that, a tight-lipped thing he's never offered you before. It makes you give one in return before your attention goes back to your hands in your lap.

“She sure thinks the world of you,” you offer.

“Yeah well,” Joel shrugs, embarrassed. “We’ve been through a lot.”

“Did she know Tess?”

Joel goes quiet, staring back at the fire. You worry that you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s got a hurt look in his eyes. The kind that makes the dark brown of it glossy and hard.

“Yeah. She knew Tess.”

And something in the finality of his hushed tone makes you cease in that line of questioning. His eyes sweep to you as if belatedly realizing he's shared a vulnerable part of himself and like a feral cat that hisses when they realize they've let their guard down, Joel straightens.

"I've had too much of this," he says handing you the flask. You're surprised when you can feel it's still half full. "You should go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when your shift starts.”

"Okay."

You put the flask on the floor, looking into the fire before shifting onto your side, curling within the blankets. You gaze down over your hip to see Joel staring into the space in front of him and you realize that this is perhaps one of the only times you’ll be able to really talk to Joel.

And there’s a big, big question that’s been lingering in your subconscious for weeks now. One that you could never have brought up if not for this sense of camaraderie.

“Joel, why did you stop wanting to do stuff on patrols?”

You don’t know why but you need to ask him this. You’ve gone through the scenarios countless times trying to understand. The thought that you did something wrong, the thought that perhaps Joel got bored of you is what you’ve landed on, but you want to hear it.

He shifts again on the couch, his back cracking. He licks at his lower lip, hands bracing against his thighs. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable with the topic, but you can’t find it in yourself to let it go.

“Did I do something wrong that day?”

“No,” Joel says quickly. “Just thought it was a distraction.”

“Oh.”

You don’t really believe that. But you suppose it could be true. You are here to do a job after all, not suck him off. You exhale slowly through your nose as you think back to that final day, his thumb in your mouth and his eyes on your face. You think of how it felt to have your mouth full of him and that blissful sensation of quiet that came along with it.

“I miss doing it.”

It comes from you in a breathy sigh, a quiet thing said to the air in front of you. But its loud in the silent room and it makes your eyes pop open.

Did Joel hear that?

You close your eyes then, your cheeks heating because there's a hesitation, a silence. You cringe, feeling as though you've fucked this up this gentle alliance. Joel was so forthcoming with you and now he’s gone radio silent because you just said the stupidest thing possible.

You shake your head internally, bracing yourself for Joel’s mockery or derision.

There’s the feeling of the couch dipping and when you crack open your eyes Joel's muscular frame is moving towards you. The blanket has fallen to his hips, leaving his torso visible.

You sit up, suddenly intimidated by his broad frame and muscular stature. His eyes scan over your body hidden in the blankets. He takes in your braced pose, the way you’re almost wary of him as he moves over to you.

"Lay back.”

You look at his eyes reflecting the flames licking up the hearth. It's almost as hypnotic as his husky voice.

“What’re you-“

“I said lay back.”

His voice is stern but without its usual malice. He’s giving you an order and he’s expecting you to follow it. You remember the first day you met him.

I'm the one who gives orders. Not you.

You feel your pulse start to tick as the two of you lock eyes and its like everything in the world falls away. The whistle of the wind, the crackle of the fire, the thrum of your heart. Nothing is left save for your shallow breathing.

You tilt backwards, your arms securing your blanket tightly around your torso. You wonder if he’s going to fuck your mouth in this position. Or perhaps he’s just going to touch himself over you. Both thoughts have you pressing your thighs together tightly. You’re head is perched on the edge of the sofa arm, watching him.

Joel’s eyes dip to your waist and he confuses you when his long fingers slide to the blanket laying overtop you. He says nothing, just pushes the blanket up your waist, exposing you to him in the firelight. Goose bumps ripple over your flesh but not from the cold.

“Joel-“

His eyes never leave your face, but you feel his fingers brush over your bare thigh. The blanket toga you fashioned has come undone and you flinch as he moves his calloused hand over your skin, thumb grazing the crease between your thigh and hip. The air feels strangely heavy as Joel’s knuckles graze your slick entrance.

It feels so good.

Your hips jolt before you force them to still, your body supine before him. Joel tilts his head slightly, gazing at your exposed cunt with what almost looks like affection.

“She always this wet?"

The way he speaks is so vulgar but his tone is so soothing that it creates a strange dichotomy within your brain. It leaves you dumbstruck, able only to give a brief shake of your head in response.

Joel sweeps the tip of his tongue over his plush lower lip, wetting it.

"S'for me?"

You still can't answer; your throat feels sealed shut as he keeps his gaze fixed between your legs. But your silence and pink cheeks are their own kind of damning confession.

Joel says nothing more but there's a touch of amusement in his look that's not lost on you. It makes you tilt your face to the side, not wanting to show more of your hand.

Joel shifts, removing his hand from your body. You immediately miss the warmth, eyes snapping down the length of you to watch in quiet fascination as Joel shrugs off the blanket over his shoulders.

You swallow again, your own blanket raised to just below your eyes. You can't help but exhale softly at the sight of him.

Joel's body is a beautiful gold color. There are a few scars that curve along his flesh, a particularly jagged one along the right side under his ribs. He's broad and muscular and so masculine with his strong features and stronger body.

One of the blankets remains slung loosely around his middle, allowing you a brief vision of dark hair below his navel leading under the quilt before he curves forward. His wide hands come to slide up over your knees, gliding to your thighs and then back down again. He does this several times, his eyes watching the ascent of his touch as you pant softly.

His hands come to glide up your thighs again, thumbs coming to trace the soft inner skin there. You feel as his strong grip begins to urge your legs to part and in a panic your thighs slap together. You see the flash of his glittering eyes snap to your face.

"Open.”

When you don't immediately acquiesce you feel his thumbs tracing small circles on the inner skin of your thigh, not moving an inch from where he kneels half curled over you. His touch is setting of strange vibrations through your body, ones that make it hard to catch your breath.

“Open.”

He repeats it and the timbre of his voice is sweet and sticky like syrup. A coaxing thing that silently promises it’ll be worth it if you do. He waits, not moving an inch as you decide.

Finally after a moment’s deliberation you give a shuddering breath before your legs fall open on either side of him, exposing you in a completely new way as you hear him inhale slowly.

You feel like your entire body is on fire not only from embarrassment but from this overwhelming sizzling ache in your core. This strange desire that makes it impossible to think clearly. To remind you that you don’t really like Joel as a person. To remind you that Joel doesn’t enjoy your company.

But it doesn’t matter because Joel is moving to rest prone on the couch between your legs with a grunt. He props himself up on his elbows and goes to push the blanket over your hips higher but you tense. He must register this because his hands slide back, his mouth set in a firm line of patience.

One wide palm slips between your legs, gentle fingers grazing over your mound. The sensation is soothing, almost bordering on ticklish. You feel your body eventually relaxing, eyes drifting shut. Joel makes a quiet sound of what you think is approval.

You don't know how long this lasts for, but you soon find yourself boneless, lulled by Joel's shockingly delicate touch. Your arms which had been glued over your chest now relax, rising over your head over the arm of the couch.

You feel yourself drifting off, unsure of when Joel went from someone who terrified you to a man whose fingers are slowly dancing up the seam of your pussy. He feels so soft and gentle right now and you let him maneuver you however he wants. He must feel you relax in his grip because the soft drag of his fingers now slides between the seam of your sex.

Two thick fingers slowly spread the glossy lips of your pussy, brushing your straining clit in the process. Joel’s gaze is fixed there, almost as if he’s marveling at how wet you are. You shudder gently at his intense scrutiny, noting that Joel's eyes flick to yours when you do. You breathe shallowly, eyes wide and mouth parted.

Joel lowers his mouth to where his fingers still hold you open. With his dark eyes fixed on you, he gives a slow, languid lick of his flattened tongue over your clit. The sight and sensation causes you to immediately jolt, pleasure tearing through your middle.

Joel Miller’s mouth is between your legs.

You still can’t quite comprehend that this is happening to you. Goose bumps rise up all over your body, every sense quivering with arousal. Joel isn’t smirking, but it almost feels like he could be when you swallow thickly.

"He ever do this?” he rumbles. “Your friend?"

He says friend like others would say asshole.

"N-no," you say with a fluttering of your pulse. "Never had time."

"But there was time to suck his cock," Joel says with derision clear in his voice. “Time to ride him?”

You want to defend your old friend and point out the irony considering the past you and Joel share, but then his mouth is back there between your legs and all words leave you.

With his soulful eyes closing, Joel repeats the previous action with his tongue once, twice and then a third lingering time that has you grunting in the back of your throat, hips rolling against his mouth.

He pulls his mouth off you slightly and in the low firefight you see the web of saliva and slick that join his tongue to your cunt. It's lascivious and obscene and you feel as fresh arousal gathers there just at the sight.

You feel exposed, suddenly vulnerable with his mouth between your thighs. You go to close them but Joel's eyes snap open to scorch a blazing path up at you.

Obey.

Despite him saying nothing out loud, you swallow, nodding. He seems satisfied because he gives your clit a soft lave that makes you swallow a groan. You have a moment of confusion, wondering why he’s doing this all of a sudden.

"Joel I -"

"I like doin' this," he tells you almost frustrated at your sudden discomfort. "So just let me."

You watch as he slides his hands beneath the back of your legs, urging them to rise. You go limp, curious when he maneuvers your legs over his broad shoulders, hinging at the knee.

His mouth is level with your pussy now, more easily accessible and this seems to please him before Joel's lips begin to kiss slowly over pussy, making out with it in a way your mouth has never felt.

You have no desire for the pleasure to stop.

You feel his lips sponging along your mound before the fingers holding you open spread you further, allowing him to probe deeply with the thick muscle of his tongue, making the most deliciously vulgar wet sound as he does. His nose grazes your clit as he does this, fucking you with his tongue and teasing your clit.

You nearly capitulate off the sofa at that sensation. The deep thrust of his tongue twisting within your sopping core as you huff out little whines while the plush pout of his lips working against the dripping between your legs.

He breathes heavily through his nose, not wanting to break the connection of his mouth on your cunt as he gazes at you. He sees the way your head tilts back, the way your thighs slightly turn inward. He holds your hips down, thumbs absently stroking over the skin there before coming to cradle the lips of your pussy, allowing him better access to your aching clit.

He groans at one point, a low, sinful thing accompanied by a wet kissing sound that has your nipples tightening almost painfully under the blanket. Your hips roll lazily under the sensation, whimpering slightly when his tongue comes to flick over your swollen clit time and time again.

When his eyes drift closed you feel your body tightening. You lift your hips instinctively and you almost believe that you can feel Joel smirk against your cunt. For some reason that’s what has a white hot pleasure shooting up your middle as you rush towards your release.

“Oh f-f-fuck-“

You suddenly tilt backwards, as Joel's hands grip your hips tightly, fingertips dimpling your flesh as his mouth continues it steady dance against your pussy.

“There it is,” Joel murmurs against your cunt as you begin to keen loudly.

Everything in your body tightens and your back arches. Your toes curl into the soft of the couch as Joel works his mouth continuously through your shuddering cry of pleasure. He allows your thighs to squeeze the side of his head as your hands grip uselessly at your sides.

Joel laps at the pooling essence between your thighs, groaning as he does it. Your heartbeat flutters at the sight, his eyes rolled back and his mouth working hurriedly over your sex, making obscene sucking noises. You can only whimper down at him, hips rolling lazily against his searching mouth.

And then all at once Joel’s hands slide beneath your bottom, grasping large handfuls of your ass, holding you firmly in place so that his tongue can probe deeper.

"Another," Joel commands, licking flat swipes along your cunt, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit. Your thighs tremble and you give frantic little huffing cries at the sensation that seems to be building again.

"I-I cant-"

"You will," Joel tells you sharply, lips coming to circle your clit once more before sucking it into his mouth and you see fireworks behind your eyes. His words swim through your veins, much like they always do. Another. Another. Another.

He orders you obey.

He leads you follow.

You give his name out with a lusty cry and for the first time this evening you touch him. Your hands go to his thick curls and you clutch there desperately, needing to ground yourself, needing him as deep as possible, needing him.

He doesn’t shake you off and doesn’t demand you not touch him. If anything he seems to suck harder and you think you see his hips beginning to thrust against the couch. His arms banded over your waist hold you in place, his head shaking back and forth.

"Joel! I'm gonna... Gonna..."

"C'mon then," Joel urges between sloppy kisses to your cunt. "Fuckin’ do it."

Your hips pitch off the creaking sofa, rutting into Joel's mouth with abandon. You hear him groaning with approval and that sends your head tilting back as the pleasure rocks through you.

Joel gives a shudder, his lips trembling around your clit as you feel yourself coming down. He continues to suck gently, eyes closed. With trembling fingers you touch his cheek lightly, your body overwhelmed.

"S'enough," you tell him through gasps. "Can't... Can't do any more."

He nods and leans back slowly onto his knees, one hand on the back of the couch.

You go to tell him that you'll do the same for him. Your hand even reaches out towards him but it stops halfway when you see the wide damp spot at the front of his blanket.

He came.

When you tear your eyes to go to his face Joel is daring you to say something. His dark eyes are glittering in his face as he stares you down. His mouth is wet with your arousal.

But you can't ask: Joel did you just come while you were going down on me?

Even though you want to because the thought turns you on more than you can explain. That just your pleasure was enough for him to climax.

“Thank you,” you whisper, unsure of what to say in such a moment. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches in amusement.

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes are on his abdomen, the scar there in the firelight twisted and obvious. It’s fresher than the other ones that litter his body. You want to ask him how it happened, you want to ask him why he did this tonight, you want to ask him so many more questions but you feel sobered up and too intimidated to ask him.

When you don't say anything more Joel leans forward again, eyes stuck on you. Your legs are still there on his shoulders and you go to move them off.

"I can’t do anything more." You feel your eyelids growing heavy, like each one has a tiny weight at the corner pulling down. "I'm tired."

"Go to sleep then," he tells you, rich baritone against your legs. You feel his lips grazing along your inner thighs, slow, gentle things, taking their time. “Don’t need to do anything but lay there.”

"What about you?"

"Not tired yet. ‘Sides it’s my watch."

You feel his mouth drifting over the seam of your thigh, breathing in your skin. His lips are petal soft and he’s doing that same light grazing that makes your eyes close before you slip into the warm and welcoming darkness of sleep.

///

You don't even remember falling asleep but judging by the quieting of the storm it's been a while. The fire is dim, but not out.

But that's not what has woken you.

It's the steadily building orgasm being coaxed out of you by the man still there between your thighs. You can't see him, but you feel his heavy mouth there. Has he just been there licking and sucking as you slept?

You make a croaking hum deep in your throat as your hips slowly begin to roll against his mouth. You can't see Joel's face in the semi darkness, but you just know he's looking at you.

You feel your climax building, pushing you to let out little whines. Joel's mouth takes you there, licking just hard enough to have your legs trembling. A husky order from somewhere in the darkened night.

"Go on then.”

You feel everything in you release at those three words. The delicious tension unwinding itself from your body as you come against his tongue.

"Good girl."

Only then does Joel remove your thighs from over his shoulders. He closes them gently like the pages of a cherished book before pulling your blanket back down over your body.

"Thank you," you croak out to him. It doesn't seem like enough but it must be because Joel gives a grunt. You feel his body lift from off the sofa. You want to see what he does next but you feel so relaxed and you're so tired.

Just so fucking tired.

///

You wake up too early the next morning, when the sky is still bleeding pink into the start of the day. You blink sleepily up at the window, confused that you’re so warm and cozy despite the fire being dead.

Belatedly you realize you’re sandwiched between the back of the couch and something warm and hard. The disorientation of sleep slowly seeps from you and you realize that you're snuggled up against Joel's back with your arm slung over his waist.

Memories of last night make your cheeks burn. Joel's mouth on you, the way he took his time. The way he came. Something about that fact makes your throat run dry.

His torso is bare and up so close to him you can see the small array of freckles along his tanned shoulders like a golden galaxy. He’s so broad, his body nearly falling off the edge of the couch as he sleeps on.

He's very still, his breathing slow and even. You peer up and see the threads of grey in his dark hair shining in the almost dead fire. You want to touch it, to see if it's as soft as it looks but you don’t dare.

His spine is under his taut flesh just inches from your mouth. You don't press your mouth to his skin but you can't help but inhale, shocked at how comforting the scent of leather and homemade soap is.

And while you should start the day and get as far away from Joel Miller as possible, there’s something about this moment that feels better than you can explain. It makes it so that your forehead presses against his spine and your front goes flush with his back. It makes you sigh softly as your eyes grow heavy and sleep pulls you back under.

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

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n30nwrites · 3 months

Text

Fetch (Shifter! Tf141 x Male! Reader)

Chapter 4 of Good Doggy

Masterlist

Tw - Drunk Assholes (inspired by real stories from me :)), Slight blood warning, Language (its a COD fanfic??), OKAY SO LIKE I GUESS SLIGHT SUGGESTIVE STUFF?? I WANTED TO MAKE IT LONGER. A SMALL SCENE OF NSFW BUT NOTHING TOO DEEP BUT STILL PUTTING A WARNING, ITS IN BETWEEN THE NSFW GRAPHICS. Gaz has a praise kink.

Beta Reader/Editor - @letmelickyoureyeballs

Updated: 3/5/2024

The bar is filled. It’s a Friday night, of course it is but you hate it. You don’t like dealing with assholes. Not after the conversation with Maya.

“I cannot serve you anymore. If you don’t decide to leave I will call the cops.” The man in front of you shouts profanity after profanity, angered by the law. Humans were stupid that way. “Here’s a water.” You slam it down, annoyed.

Idiots. Drunken idiots.

Yeah by Usher starts playing. The club you worked at was loud, you have ear plugs in just so you wouldn’t be overstimulated by everything, but you could still hear enough.

“Why do you have a mask on?” He's irritated already which means that this conversation will not end well. You usually strive to give your coworkers the assholes, not caring that he'll have to deal with it.

"It's to stay safe, I don't want to get sick-"

The man cuts you off and you debate on spitting in his drink, "That's not gonna keep you safe, the only way to stay safe is to build your immune system." He keeps yelling, and some spit leaves his mouth. You place down the menu in front of him as he keeps yelling, "That's the only way to stay safe, not a stupid mask!"

You walk away, going to your coworker and telling him to get his order cause if you do you'll be fired. You instead went over to the list of music that was going to play and put on a favorite song of yours, not caring for some disgruntled noise from other patrons as you bobbed your head to the beat, distracting yourself from the day you had.

"Ye lik' this song mo gaol?" It's the familiar accent and the way the hairs on your arms stand makes you more irritated. It was roughly 1 a.m. and most people would be tired. You'd reckon it would start slowly down in 20 minutes, which meant you could get some work done.

You turned to face Soap.

"I'd hope so, I chose it." You tell him as you get closer to him. "You still stalking me?"

"Ah'ahmnot a stalker, juist wanted a drink." He smiles boyishly, as if he wasn't Sergeant John ``Soap" MacTavish with more confirmed kills than unconfirmed.

"At the bar I work at?"

"Juist a coincidence"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't lie to me." You told him while you mixed a drink. "You obviously have something for me."

"A'm in loue wi' ye"

"Not possible." You tell him, interrupting his "confession". You set the drink down in front of him. "$13" You tell him the price.

"I didnae orda a drink?" He looked cheeky, and you wished some part of you didn't find him attractive. But he looks up at you and you can't help but imagine other scenarios, particularly some where you're both naked.

"Well you can either pay for the drink and drink it, or pay for the drink and I'll drink it and talk with you some more." Soap immediately puts down two 20s.

"Th' rest can go to mah bartender." You slip the extra cash into your pocket, going to your POS system and breaking out for your thirty minute break that was required. You grabbed the drink on the counter and left your work area, Soap following behind like a puppy. You found a booth in the corner most people avoided. Sitting down at what could fit five others at most. Your mind goes back to Maya, who’s probably taking care of Icarus, your dog, and Marigold, her familiar. Maya worked as well, but it was an in-house job where she dealt with customers in need of assistance.

"You hurt our feelin`s earlier," He says first as you take a sip of the drink you made. "Hae we dane something tae offend ye?"

"Don't want to get your hopes up." You tell him, "I'm not one for soulmates."

"So ye know?"

"Of course I do. You reek of wolf." He starts to sniff himself and you want to laugh at how ridiculous it looks. "You wouldn't be able to smell it. And it's not a bad smell, just obnoxious cause there's four of you."

"So ye aren't human."

"Nope, never was."

"What are ye?" You never felt shame in what you were. Didn't feel shame in general, it took Maya for you to start walking around in clothes.

But you didn't want to tell him.

"None of your business."

Gaz knows that Price is going to talk about the bloodshed in the morning. He knows that Price already knows but doesn't care to stop it tonight. Price is just too drunk, Ghost doesn’t care, and Soap is who knows where. It wasn’t like he killed humans tonight, just some animals that were definitely going to get the town's attention (He might’ve killed a bear) but not the hunters.

He's decorated in blood and he loves it. It soothes some messed-up part of him. His teeth still have specks of flesh in it, that he licks clean

He smells you. Heavenly you. You who smells like some plant burning. He didn't understand it, but he loved it.

You're next to Soap, and Soap has the biggest grin as you walk together.

Though you probably don't see it as together. You probably see it as him stalking you, but you don't seem to have your usual air of distaste. You have sunglasses on, something he hates cause he can't stare at them. Your mask is black, and you also have a hood on. You look perfect, he just wishes you were in his bedroom.

Preferably naked and-

Nope.

He kind of hates it at the same time though. Soap getting so close to you, still determined to find a way to be with you. Soap didn't lose hope, not like Gaz did. But he'd be damned if he didn't do something. He lets out a growl, standing menacingly as he runs forward, towards both of you, knocking Soap down as he growls at him, his teeth snapping. If Gaz doesn't get to be happy, Soap shouldn't either.

He just wasn't expecting your reaction.

"Get off him." He followed your command, staring up at you and following your eyes when you bent down to be eye level with him. "God you are so..."

"Cute." Your voice gets higher as you gently rub behind his ears, the blood not bothering you at all. Gaz almost forgets how you looked at him earlier, your words that cut him melted away and he just thinks he has a chance.

You loved dogs, who wouldn't? Even if that dog was actually a grown (hot) man.

"Look who's such a pretty boy." You kept rubbing his head as Soap just stared in shock. "Such a handsome boy, who did you eat?" You coo at Gaz, who leans into your touch and praise, enjoying everything about this moment. Gaz has to take a moment to remember himself, that the praise you give him is nothing.

But he can't help but imagine scenarios in a different setting.

NSFW Start

It's such a simple setting. In his room, the lights are low. He's flushed, shirtless and on the floor, while you sit above him.

"Can't you be a good boy for me?" You lick your lip before biting it, you stare at him, your eyes actually showing, looking at him with lust and love. A perfect combination, and your lips, god, you were perfect for him. "Come on, you know you want to." You lower your shorts and Gaz gulps, he stares at your cock, mesmerized.

"You're hungry for it, aren't you whore?"

NSFW End

"Arr ye fecken' kidding me?" Soap says, breaking the peaceful moment, and Gaz's daydream. "A' it took wis a wolf fur ye to lik' us?"

"I still don't like you all, but dogs are always a great company." You keep petting him, Gaz's eyes closing slightly, and Soap sits up.

"Ah can do that toh." His accent gets thicker as he rushes to grab your hand, forcing it away from Gaz and instead putting it in his hair. Which was mostly shaved on the sides.

"You aren't a cute puppy right now." You yank your hand away.

"He's fooken' bloody!"

Gaz licks your face, and you slightly smile.

----

Listen, hating people is one thing but I could never hate a dog, let alone a wolf. Reader still doesn't feel comfortable around the boys, but he does like the dogs.

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eddiernunson · 8 months

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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Reader | 18+

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Big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, you really are the best!

Thank you to @bebe07011 for all your encouragement

Thank you to @names-were-taken ... you know what you did.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: road head, breeding kink, daddy!kink, family awkwardness

Authors note: Guys I appreciate all your patience, truly I do. I was so damn busy these last two months, and I barely had the time or the motivation to write. It's more of a filler chapter, we get some good stuff next one. I'm still quite busy, but I got a fire in me to continue this story. Don't worry, I plan on continuing to the end. There's about two or three more chapters planned. As they say: life happens when you're busy making plans.

You sit on the couch cross legged, watching a movie under a big blanket with Eddie right next to you. He’s relaxed in the corner, arm sitting on the back cushion as he half pays attention to the movie. You’re telling him about work, some drama between two co-workers that has the entire workplace turned on its head.

Eddie wipes his hands of the butter from his popcorn, finishing a handful before he speaks. “Oh, yeah, one of my apprentices just quit, so I’m interviewing a few guys next week.”

For some reason, it doesn’t occur to you that because Eddie owns the shop, he’s also their boss, and therefore, has to hire and interview people. “Cool.”

Something in your tone forces Eddie’s head to tilt towards you. You see this out of the corner of your eye and break into a wide smile, giggling. “What’s…what’s this about?”

“It’s nothing.” You insist, way too fast for it to not be nothing.

“Ok, now you’ve gotta tell me.” Eddie insists, turning his entire body to face you.

“You’re gonna think it’s dumb.”

“What?” Eddie yelps out in surprise. “Of course I won’t think it’s dumb!”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” You pout.

Eddie sighs, you’re just hopelessly adorable to him. And he’s hopelessly in love. So of course, he says “I promise, I won’t laugh.”

“I just didn’t really think about you owning the shop, meaning that you’re their boss, and you have to do interviews.” You admit, aware of his brown eyes on you. “I never imagined you on the other side of a desk. But…” you stutter, clenching your thighs. “…then I did.” You laugh, embarrassed. “Then I became aware of how fast it took for me to picture it and I smiled.”

It’s a lot for Eddie to process at once. “Wait, so you thought of all of that in those two seconds?” Eddie asks, as an eyebrow rises in astonishment.

You nod, continuing to munch on your popcorn. “Yeah…”

“…So what did you think of me behind that desk?” He asks, biting his lip as his voice gets real low. One part of him wants to rile you up, but the other is genuinely curious.

You giggle, watching through half lidded eyes as his lips lean in to kiss you. Your tongues meet sweetly, his darkened stare making you feel drunk on love. “I—” The feeling of your phone buzzing underneath your thigh interrupts you, Eddie sighing as he reluctantly pulls back. “Wait!” you whine.

He chuckles. “Answer your phone. I promise, I’ll be just as curious after.”

Somehow it hasn’t gone to voicemail, yet. Your hand fishes it out from under your leg, the word Mom and her picture illuminating the screen. Fuck. You wince, wishing for three minutes ago when you were breathing in Eddie’s intoxicating scent. Your thumb hesitantly presses the answer button, “Hi, mom.”

“Oh, well you do answer!” There’s a sass in her voice right out the gate, and you instinctively cringe, understanding the type of phone call you’re about to have with her.

“I do work, mom. You happen to keep calling when I’m at work. Then, when I do call you back, you never answer!” You answer, watching Eddie’s brows furrow. It’s the first he’s hearing about this round about game you have with your mom when it comes to phone calls and you’ve never brought it up because the topic alone causes an abundance of stress for you. “Please tell me why you called, or was it to just yell at me?”

“Oh I’m not yelling.” She dismisses you, not unusual for her, yet you still roll your eyes and grit your teeth in frustration. “I would, however, like to meet your boyfriend…looks like you two are getting serious…your aunts have found your page.”

“So they’ve seen…what? His ankle tattoo?” You ask, referring to the photo where Eddie is just stepping out of frame on purpose. Nothing about your Instagram account is a mistake for the moment, if anything just to spite his ex.

“The walk-in closet.” Your mom answers, and you gotta admit, that arch of a full body mirror in his (your) walk-in has become your favorite place to take a photo for the moment. “Even if I don’t approve, I just want to meet him. Bring him to supper. He can bring some family, if he wants. The more, the merrier!”

This sounds like your own personal version of hell. Judgemental aunties, drunk uncles, annoying cousins, and your mom all with Eddie? Throw him to the wolves, why don’t you? “Mom, why don’t we hold off your sisters for now? Let’s just introduce him to our family, and he can introduce you to his.” You suggest alternatively, barely holding in a laugh as Eddie’s shoulders relax, unashamedly eavesdropping on your conversation, not that you mind.

“You know, they’re not patient women.”

You laugh, nodding your head in full agreement. “Yeah, I know. Neither are you, and neither am I, neither is Viti. Runs in your family.” You roll your eyes.

Eddie nods in agreement, thinking of the initiative you took when he first met you and laughing silently to himself. Then his nose scrunches. Who’s Viti?

You turn to face Eddie as you talk on the phone, trying to make out what he’s mouthing to you. “Just send me a date and a time and I’ll try to get them over there.” What? You mouth back to him.

“Who’s Viti?” He whispers, still confused.

Wait, who’s Viti? You stare at him blankly, holding up a finger to finish the conversation with your mom as she responds. “Uh, I’m working Friday, and Eddie’s working Saturday…is middle of the week undoable?”

You hold the receiver, getting an answer that starts with “Well” is always going to be long-winded before getting to the point with your mom. “Viti is my little sister!” You whisper to Eddie. Upon seeing the genuine look of surprise you can tell he never knew about her.

You put the phone back to your ear, catching the end of “I suppose we could do Wednesday…”

You cover the phone receiver. “Can you get Steve in the state on Wednesday?” Eddie nods wordlessly, no doubt in his mind. “Wednesday works!” You cover the receiver again and remove the phone from your ear as she finishes with a long-winded goodbye. “How did you not know I had a sister?”

Eddie shrugs, also wondering. “Never came up, I guess?”

You consider this answer, recalling any acceptable times to bring it up. “That’s true, I suppose.” You put the phone back to your ear, “So, I’ll see you next Wednesday?”

“See you then! 7pm, don’t be late!”

You hang up your phone, falling backwards on the couch in frustration. “Ugh!”

“Would it be ludicrous to say that that did not kill my boner at all?” Eddie asks, slightly surprised himself.

You laugh, shaking your head as he makes his way back to where you sit on the couch. “Still wanna hear about it?”

He lays you down, nodding as he leans in for a kiss. “Tell me everything, baby.”

It’s Wednesday, unfortunately, and you make your way over to your parents’ house, a twenty minute drive down the highway. Yesterday it became evident how nervous Eddie is, dancing around the subject and being more lovey with you than usual, as if that were even possible. Now, he sits with his shoulders locked and face staring dead ahead as he gulps through his nerves. “Baby, are you okay?” You hesitate to ask, but can’t help it.

“Oh, just terrified.” Eddie admits, knowing just how much rides on this one supper. “Something just occurred to me…how…how old is your dad?”

“Oh…” you shift in the passenger seat into a more comfortable position. “I think he’s 53 or 54. I don’t remember which one he turns this year.”

“Oh, thank god.” Eddie sighs, relieved, closing his eyes momentarily. “If your dad was younger I could only fucking imagine…what a shit show that would’ve been.”

“My mom is the same age as you, now that I think about it.” You say, wondering how that was a detail that hadn’t occurred to you before. “She graduated in 94’, which, correct me if I’m wrong, is the year you would’ve, too.”

“Well, shit.” Eddie mutters. He hasn’t done a meet the parents dinner where he was the one meeting the parent in fucking forever. So long ago, in fact, it was borderline humorous.

For some reason, Eddie seemed to look extra scrumptious, dressed to impress and smelling fantastic. Even as he looks nervous, he looks ten times better than any confident man. “You know what would help you feel better?” You ask, placing a hand on his knee.

You think you might have to be more upfront about it, but just from your tone alone Eddie is tenting his pants. “What’s that sweetheart?” He asks anyway, playing dumb, wanting to hear you say it.

“If I sucked you off on the way?”

Eddie huffs his lips out, pretending to consider it. Honestly, he can’t even pretend. He breaks into a chuckle. “Put those pretty lips on my cock.”

You smile in satisfaction as you immediately move to unzip Eddie’s nice slacks and slip his cock out. “You’re already hard” You accuse him playfully. It’s such a damn compliment to you.

You’re in a lusted-out haze as you bend over to take him in your mouth, your shoulder awkwardly colliding with the steering wheel. The possibility of anyone passing in a car big enough to see you in Eddie’s clear windowed vehicle was too much of a turn on for you not to dissect it eventually. His cock reaches your throat, the sounds of you gagging on him repeatedly and your muscles twitching around him make him want to tilt his head back and close his eyes.

“Oh she’s just letting herself be fucked in the throat where anyone can see, huh?” Eddie mutters, his free hand moving through your hair. “Showing everyone how good of a slut you are.”

The words certainly help your ambition, and you start to bob up and down on him, sucking the life out of him with your wet slurps.

“Everyone gets a view but no one gets to know but me.” One of your hands start to play with his balls, moving them around as you lick and slobber all over him before pulling back, taking a breath break. Eddie lifts eyes up momentarily, smirking. “Oh you just gave that semi trucker a fucking hard on, baby I hope you know that.”

You glance sideways, your hand still wrapped on Eddie's cock, seeing the tail end of a white semi truck. You smile up at him and continue, the thought of some random dude being jealous of Eddie because of you was cool. You were only the cool girlfriend who likes to give road head because he’s a good boyfriend, anyhow. You hope he knows that.

“That turn you on?” You shake your head, the nuance too much to discuss while his cock still sits in your mouth. “Does him seeing it turn you on?” You smirk at him, taking a breath as your hand moves up and down his length. Now, for the big guns. You accept him to the back of your throat easily, the deep throating becoming one of your favorite past times with him. “Oh I’m gonna—"

You swallow every last drop that he has to offer when he spills into your mouth, almost too much as some dribbles down your chin. No, not too much. Never too much. You collect the dribble and put it in your mouth, licking your fingers clean. You hum in contentment over the salty taste, sitting back in your seat.

“Jesus christ.” Eddie mutters, still gripping the steering wheel with an iron fist. “That certainly made me feel a lot better.”

In hindsight, Eddie was right to feel anxious for it, just not for the reasons anybody could ever reasonably guess.

When you get there with five minutes to spare, Dylan and Steve are already in your parent’s driveway, both bearing smiles on their faces as they laugh about something.

Eddie finally finishes buckling himself up once the truck pulls up and you get out right away to distract (and to hug, of course), thanking Steve for making it on such short notice. Out of view, Steve’s SUV passenger door slams shut. “Dad, do you think her parents are as stuffy as she says they are or—” Arlo Harrington stops the moment he notices you’re there.

Eddie was hesitant to extend the offer to Arlo, but after he asked you with the disclaimer that Arlo is his god child and he considers family…it was hard to refuse. While you knew Arlo was going to be there, you just didn’t expect him to be a carbon copy of the version of Steve you saw in the photo on Eddie’s facebook.

Whatever genes are in those Harringtons, those curls run deep, every one of his kids had them from the photos. “Hi, Arlo. Nice to meet you.” You hold out a hand, diffusing the tension.

“Thanks for letting me tag along.” He pulls you in once he grabs your hand to shake it, muttering, “Couldn’t resist a show.”

You pull back, seeing a younger Steve in him. “Damn. This is your kid alright.” You confirm to Steve, letting go of Arlo’s hand.

Steve laughs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, that’s my son.”

Eddie jogs up behind you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he carries a bottle of white wine. “Look who finally showed up.” Steve announces, wondering if he’s picturing the flush in Eddie’s face.

“Sorry, I needed a minute to gather my courage. We’re 3 minutes past 7, let’s go.” He mutters to you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“God, I’m not going to hear the end of those three minutes, she’ll hold them against me next time she needs something, I just fucking know it.”

Eddie chuckles as he holds your hand and you walk the stone path up to your front porch. Three knocks land on the door and you hear the small dogs barking and your mom brushing them away from the door. Your mom opens the door with your dad and your jaw hurts from the painful smile on your face as you watch the color in your mom’s face drain. “Mom…?” You ask, waiting for her to say something. “Hello?”

“Oh…sorry.” Your mom gulps, shaking her head. “Of course, come on in, everyone. There’s food on the table for snacks and supper is almost ready.”

Your parents’ tiny dogs yap and jump at you as you take your jacket off, watching as Eddie looks around your childhood home. “Quaint.” Eddie comments, noticing the frames on the wall and the little seasonal décor accents.

“Fuck off.” You tell him, a little self conscious.

“Good quaint.”

“You boys wanna watch the game?” Your dad asks, offering seemingly to anyone but Eddie. “Come on, let’s go sit.” He leans into Eddie as he turns to the living room, muttering, “My wife has got a bucket of questions, so don’t be scared by her inviting you to the kitchen.”

“Dave?” Your mom asks, still not having said much since you got there, which, frankly, is unlike her. “Can you meet me in the kitchen?”

Your dad’s eyes widen, the irony of his last statement not lost on him. “Shut up.” He tells you, his eyes kind behind his round glasses. A grin creeps up your face and you hug him tightly, wishing him luck as he opens the door into the kitchen.

For the next five minutes, nothing suspicious seems to happen in the kitchen. Steve asks if there are any bottle openers for the beer as you sit next to Eddie on the couch, a dog landing on your lap as you direct him to said kitchen. Nothing too awful seemed to be happening, anyway.

Steve sighs as he just gets comfortable. Even with Eliza gone he can’t get fucking comfy. He trudges on to the door of the kitchen when he overhears the reason your parents were quietly bickering.

“—and Eddie fucking Munson!”

“Are you sure it’s the same men? Maybe they just look the same.”

Your mom hesitates, “I know Steve the Hair Harrington, Dave.”

“Yeah, I know you know him.” Your dad answers, Steve picks up on the bitterness in his voice.

You and Eddie are approaching the kitchen now, both going to grab a drink from the fridge when Steve stops you. “Listen.” He whispers.

“I don’t know how, but my daughter is shacked up with Eddie the Freak Munson!”

“And your high school crush is here as family…” Your dad adds, sounding tired.

High school whatnow?

“Oh, I could barely say two words to him! I went into Family Video once and ended up not getting anything because I was too flustered!”

“I’ve heard this story before, Cheryl, why exactly are you still flustered now?”

“Oh, don’t condescend me, don’t act like if Penny Rogers showed up at our doorstep you wouldn’t be tripping over yourself.”

“Penny has nothing to do with this!”

Once it starts getting heated, you look up at the two men and leave the door quietly to give them some time and hash it out. “Was that what I thought it was?” You ask Steve, afraid of a yes.

Steve nods, his eyes wide. “I think so.”

“Do you remember her?”

Steve shakes his head solemnly. “Sorry, can’t say that I do.”

Your little sister, Viti makes her way down the stairs, passing you without a second thought to the two men she has never met. “Hi, sis.” She greets, about to head into the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t go in there!” You warn her. Viti observes you, looking next to you as the two men shake their heads in tandem.

“What, they fighting? Not unusual, nowadays, sis.” She answers, walking into the kitchen brazenly.

Eddie can’t resist. He really should. With you right there, he knew he’d get hit. He texts it to Steve, instead. Might not have missed your shot.

Steve pushes Eddie over, rolling his eyes. “You’re terrible!” Steve snaps, wishing the world would envelope him whole.

You hear your parents shooing Viti out and she returns, eyes wide and her pretty braids moving in tandem as she shakes her head. “Nope. I was wrong. They’re way worse. Whatever has them fighting has dad’s neck vein popping out, yeesh. Let’s go wait it out, it’s what I do, anyhow.”

Viti plays host and you sit by Eddie, listening to the boys talk about the game. You’re not particularly interested in stats and players but it’s fun cheering for the other team. Eventually you notice your sister has stopped talking altogether. She’s not even watching the tv screen.

You follow her line of sight to Arlo, and the irony of the situation hits you tenfold. “Nope. I can’t. I can’t.” You go upstairs to your told high school bedroom, Eddie following you inquisitively.

“Hey, what happened?” He asks, following you into the room that’s stuck in 2014.

“I noticed my sister paying a little too much attention to Arlo. That’s a little too fucking weird for me.”

Eddie chuckles, sitting with you on your bed. “We’ll get through this, don’t worry. Steve won’t even mention he doesn’t remember her.”

“He’d better not” You grumble, leaning onto his shoulder.

Eddie now observes his surroundings and how it’s so clearly a teenager’s bedroom. Your bedroom from high school. He adjusts as his hard on comes unexpectedly, yet fast. Something about the suggested innocence… Eddie shakes his head, kicking himself out of it. Your mom calls your name and you sigh, getting up from the teal bedspread. “C’mon. Let’s go face this shit show.”

Your mom has seemed to calm herself down, directing everyone to the extended dining table when it comes time. Your sister, 21 and in college, eagerly asks for the chair across from Arlo. By now, he’s caught on and he’s playing nice, much to Dylan’s teasing. However, neither of them have any idea how truly humorous it is.

“Sorry for the delay on supper.” Your mom says as you all sit down. “Some malfunctions with the food, all cleared up.”

Conversations carry on like normal, Eddie getting the interrogation treatment from your mom. Dylan feels defensive of his father’s honor but bites his tongue. She even asks Dylan if it was weird for him. “It’s my new normal.” Dylan answers easily, taking a basket of buns from Arlo next to him.

All conversations go politely, Eddie seemingly passing with flying colors. (Truth is, her mind was already made up before this dinner, and with her distraction, what Eddie said really doesn’t make a difference.) As the channels open up from getting to know Eddie and how he takes care of you and other points, your mom brazenly passes in favor of wanting to get it out there. “Uh, so I don’t know if you are aware, but I went to highschool with you two.”

Arlo, Dylan, and Viti are all thrown, of course. You, Steve, and Eddie all do your best to be surprised, Steve a much subtler actor than Eddie, but the smirk on his face is a dead giveaway. Eddie’s just dramatic.

“No shit, eh? Were we in any classes together?” Steve asks, making conversation.

“Yeah…chemistry and geometry. It was kind of hard to miss The King.” Dylan and Arlo pick up on it simultaneously, both sets of eyes jerking around in disbelief. Was this really happening?

You saw the kick in Steve’s confidence as he was called The King. You lean into Eddie. “The king of what?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Eddie lets you know, shaking his head.

“Don’t blame ya, I was loud.”

“I think I was louder, to be frank.” Eddie says, chuckling about his dramatic flair in the cafeteria.

“Oh my god, I remember that.” Your mom looks up, you envy, wanting to see young Eddie, too. From what you’ve seen of him, if you knew Eddie back then you couldn’t have been held responsible for pinning him down in a high school cafeteria. “The cheerleaders called basketball balls into laundry baskets because it pissed them off so much.”

Eddie chuckles, amused by this. “Cool.”

“I used to go to Steve’s ragers all the time.”

“Ragers? I’m sorry, this old man, father of four, dad joke extraordinaire, was a Rager Party thrower?”

Eddie nods, solemnly. “There’s a reason we didn’t get along. He was a douche.”

“Okay, I don’t think I was that bad.”

“Dad, when I was 17, you said you were glad you didn’t have a daughter because you were a raging dick in highschool. Actual quote.” Arlo speaks up, watching this shit show go down.

“If she was a cheerleader that answers why I don’t recognize her.” Eddie mutters to you, pretending to lean forward to speak low.

“Oh, fuck, yeah! You were Chrissy Cunningham’s friend, right?” Steve answers, tapping his brain.

“Yes! I was!” The relief that radiates off your mom after Steve remembers her is a little uncomfortable.

Steve makes eye contact and mouths the word No to Eddie, signaling he still doesn’t remember her, but if they were on the cheer squad, they definitely knew Chrissy.

An hour later, you’re washing dishes as Eddie comes up from behind you. He’s nervous as ever, for reasons he shall not share, but has something to do with the ring in his back pocket and a question for your parents.

“Hi, baby.” He mutters, thumbs slowly caressing the exposed skin on your hips. “Your mom asked to talk to me…should I be worried?”

“I wanna say no, but I don’t wanna give you false hope.” A sharp pain on your shoulder as he bites it causes you to jump, hitting your hips against his harshly. “I’m just being honest!”

Eddie chuckles softly, kissing where he bit you while rubbing your shoulder softly. You hum into him, your head leaning over in content. “Wish me luck, my love.”

As Eddie turns the corner towards the dining room he hears you mutter, “You’ll need it.” He rolls his eyes at you fondly, mentally reminding himself to get you back for that.

Truth be told, Eddie told a small fib. Your mom had gotten all her questions out during the dinner. Eddie was the one who had requested to talk to her and your father. The ring in his pocket has burned a hole in his back pocket all night, and he could finally get to the reason he was so eager to join your family for dinner.

If he was gonna propose, he’d at least do it right. (To be honest, if your parents don’t approve he’s gonna do it anyway, at least he’ll have made the attempt.)

Your parents are already ready and waiting, in the middle of an unimportant conversation. It dies as soon as he crosses the threshold to the dining room, the air in the room suddenly coarse. Has it really been nearly 30 years since he had to talk to a girlfriend’s parents? “Hi, thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Sure, Eddie.” Your mom politely responds, her voice clearly uncomfortable despite her good manners.

“We were just curious as to why you asked us to have a conversation, is all.” Your dad admits, much more nicely, but still hesitant.

Not that Eddie blames them. If Dylan one day came to him with a much younger girlfriend he’d probably have some concerns, as well.

“I’m sure you are. Uh, to be honest, I was rather eager for a meet-the-family dinner…I have a question for you.” Eddie admits, rubbing his back pocket self consciously. “Listen…I love your daughter very deeply.”

He pauses and assesses their reaction, sitting as he twiddles his thumbs.

“We appreciate the sentiment. I can tell you really care about her.” Your dad admits, a soft smile on his face. He already feels a sense of affection for Eddie, despite only being a handful of years older than him. Anyone paying attention can see that your relationship was by no means superficial.

“However, you’ll have to forgive us if we’re a bit hesitant. Our daughter dating a man that’s literally old enough to be her father is a tad concerning for us.”

Eddie bites his lip, doing his best to stop himself from being defensive. It was his best intention to be on their good side. Flaring up seems like a bad idea.

“Totally understand where you guys are coming from.” He says, his hands anxiously rubbing against his jeans. “As I said, I love her. She’s the best person for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier with anyone. I’m so happy… And considering I’m not getting any younger, I can’t wait any longer. I’m hoping you’ll give me your blessing to ask her to marry me.”

Any hope for a blessing dies as soon as your mom opens her mouth. For the record, it starts in abrupt laughter. “Yeah, no, that’s not going to happen.”

Eddie is unable to hold back the look of astonishment that lands on his face. He wasn’t expecting a blessing, but laughter certainly isn’t what he thought would happen. “Uh, care to explain the laughter?”

“Cheryl, while I was also going to refuse his blessing, laughing was a tad unnecessary.”

“Oh, Dave. If you knew Eddie Munson in highschool you would understand. It has nothing to do with the age difference and everything to do with the kid who made dramatic speeches on anarchy.” She laughs, placing one side of her hair behind her ear.

Eddie is stunned by her answer. How the hell was she still thinking like a high school cheerleader this many years later? “I…I have matured quite a bit since highschool.” Seems like you haven’t, bitch.

“While I’m sure you think that’s true, I just can’t see past the screw up. When she gets over how Attractive she finds you, she’ll find her way again.” She says absentmindedly, and even Dave seems to be astounded at her sheer audacity.

He chuckles deeply, arms crossed as he realizes he’s not going to win her over any time soon. An aura of confidence bursts through him, and it's almost refreshing to not be concerned with her opinion of him. “Okay. Got it. Your message is clear.” Eddie laughs.

“Good.” She stops and looks to her husband and says something clearly Eddie wasn’t supposed to hear. “Almost brought up the two years of highschool he repeated.”

That hit Eddie hard. She just went to a place that when Brooke shoved in his face he finally realized how shitty of a person she is. It hit a place that grabbed his heart and squeezed it harshly. “Okay, that’s too far. Don’t make me say it.” Eddie warns, jaw set hard.

She laughs. “Oops. Sorry. Didn’t mean for you to hear that. You gotta admit, it’s true.”

“Seriously. Don’t make me say it.”

She rolls her eyes in a way he hasn’t seen since a bratty girlfriend Dylan had about ten years ago. “Say what, drug dealer?”

“Cheryl!”

“No, I warned her.” Eddie answers, unbothered at this point. If he has to marry you without your mom there, so be it. “Steve doesn’t remember you. Not the faintest idea who you are.” Eddie takes pride in her crestfallen face. “I respect your lack of blessing, but I’m gonna ask her, anyway. Then, when we get married and you’re not invited, don’t be surprised, Cheryl.”

Without another word, he walks into the living room where everyone is sitting watching a football game, including you. He comes in wearing a smirk, you almost fear the look on his face.

“C’mon, time to go home.” He holds his hand out, a tone in his voice informing you that you have no choice in the matter.

“Is…is everything okay?” you ask hesitantly, getting up from where Steve sits with his legs on your lap.

“If you consider your mom being stuck in high school good, then sure.” Eddie tells you, holding your hand. “Besides I think she’s about to get—”

Eddie is interrupted by your mom marching into the living room. “Alright, get out, family supper over.”

With that, you, Eddie, Dylan, Steve, and Arlo are out the door within the minute.

“Jeesh, what happened?” Steve asks, partially looking accusingly at Eddie.

“She insulted me a bunch, so I told her you had no idea who she is.”

Your hand slaps over your mouth, sharing a stunned look with Dylan and Arlo.

“She insulted you?” You ask, anger swirling in your stomach as you turn on your heel. “I’ll be right back, baby.”

“Wait—!” Eddie can’t even finish his thought; you’ve already started your walk back into your house to give her a piece of your mind.

Your mom starts flying off the handle the minute the front door slams. “I thought I told you to leave my house!”

The look on her face tells you she’s only attempting to be intimidating with her stern expression, but all you can do is laugh at the absurdity of it. “That was before you decided to go and insult the shit out of my boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, you’re excused. Frankly, it’s embarrassing that I have to defend him from you because of whatever notion of him you’ve kept all these years. It’s also embarrassing for you to act like some moon eyed teenage girl with a crush when your husband of 30 years is literally right there!”

Your mom’s expression flares up defensively. “If you had heard what he said—”

“You realize how patient that man is right?”

She blinks confusedly. “Pardon?”

A huff of laughter escapes you before you continue. “Do you know how patient he is? Because for him to fire a shot back at you that severely means he must’ve endured far too much verbal assault before finally saying something to you. Which means you spent the better part of ten minutes insulting him for whatever reason until he snapped!” You look to your father who had come to witness the whole debacle. ”Am I correct in assuming that?”

He just nods solemnly, arms crossed as he looks on with furrowed eyebrows.

“Thought so. So here’s what’s gonna happen. Next time, you will not insult the man who has been nothing but nice to you and actually gave you no reason to hold a grudge this late in life other than being slightly alternative. If something like this happens again, I will not hesitate to cut contact with you.” A flick of worry crosses his face. “Oh, don’t worry, dad. I only mean her.” You allow your words to sink into her skin. “Am I making myself clear?” You don’t even wait for her response as her mouth gapes. “Good. Because I will be damned if I allow anyone, especially my mother, to mock the man I love. See you next time, where I expect you to act like my mom, and not this insecure and needy cheerleader I see before me.”

The silence is loud as you leave the front hallway entrance and slam the door shut behind you. The sight of Arlo, Steve, and Eddie standing near their vehicles greets you, their eyes synchronously moving to you as the sound of the door slam echoes in the neighborhood.

Eddie jogs over to you, his face concerned. “What was that about?” He asks, observing your mood.

“Yeah, like I’m ever gonna sit idly and watch when someone insults you. That’s unacceptable, I don’t care who it is.” You tell him, your mouth in a stern line, without a hint of humor in your voice.

“I—what?” He asks, his voice soft, his pupils jerkily assessing your face.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, that’s so unfair of her.”

“No, baby, I don’t care about that.” He dismisses it, the last thing on this mind. “Did you just stand up for me? To your own family?”

Suddenly the mist in his eyes becomes much clearer. “Of course! I can’t stomach that crap.”

A small “umph” leaves our throat as he tugs you into his chest with more force than you think he intended to. “I love you so fucking much.”

A sense of pride takes over you, smiling into his chest.

“So, we have a long drive back to Hawkins, so we’re gonna get going.” Steve mentions, suddenly realizing the two of you probably won’t be in the mood for any company tonight.

Eddie lifts his head to respond, you curl into his chest as one of his hands drop. “Of course, dude. If I’d known…”

“I don’t think any of us could’ve predicted that.” Steve laughs, letting the two of you off the hook.

“Oh shit,” Arlo stops himself from getting into his passenger side door. “You know your baby sister gave me her number, right?” He asks you, holding out a little folded piece of paper.

You wince in embarrassment. “Oh god. Don’t feel obligated. She’s just a girl with a crush.”

Arlo shrugs, not making a big deal out of it. “No, I know. Just making you aware.”

You watch him carefully. “…Hey Arlo?”

“Yep?”

“Why are you putting her number back in your wallet?”

He hesitates. “No reason...”

“Arlo?” You ask, your voice raising.

“What? No harm no foul.” He shrugs, putting the wallet back into his pants pocket.

You roll your eyes, shifting your attention to Steve. “Keep an eye on him?”

“I make no promises.” Steve laughs, holding his hands up in surrender.

“You laugh now, Steve, but just wait until Eliza is giving her numbers to men like Arlo.”

Steve stops laughing.

“That’s what I thought.”

Dylan can’t help himself from chiming in the thought that’s been eating at his brain. “Hey look at it this way.” He says, swinging an arm around your shoulder. “If they get married, your sister will have succeeded where your mom failed to.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” You ask, arms crossed with a skeptical smirk on your face.

“Becoming a Harrington.”

The bass beat echoes through the house as you dance around, mop in tow as you perform for no one. The Twilight soundtrack plays, specifically Super Massive Black Hole as your hips swing playfully, mopping the living room. Eddie is at work for the day until later in the evening, a rarity, but you plan on surprising him by earning your keep as a freeloader. As you continue to work 40 hours a week, the only thing you have to pay is your phone bill and car insurance, but you feel bad as Eddie continues to pay for everything else.

So, to make up for it, you’ve decided to clean his already clean house and do some laundry for him. Once the last of the living room has been mopped, you put it aside and return to the laundry room to switch the loads over. As everything is moved over, you lift the basket of hot clothes onto your hip like some sort of busy mom and make your way upstairs to the closet to put it away.

At the top of the stairs, you swear softly as you trip over a box Dylan has laid outside his bedroom door. He’s packing to leave, slowly moving his boxes over to his new place one trip at a time. Eddie had offered the same thing he had granted you: a moving truck with men to move it for him, but Dylan outright refused it. You know why, Dylan is a stubborn person, something you realize he got more from her than from Eddie. If Eddie acts stubborn, it’s usually for something he believes very strongly. Dylan is just plain ol’ stubborn.

You lightly kick at the box and walk through your room into your closet. The closet has certainly gotten messier since you moved in, most of the clothes are strung about when you’re done with them at the end of the day…much to Eddie’s dismay. One thing Eddie has learned about you after he moved you in was that you are not an organized person. His constant picking up behind you makes you smile, staring at him dead in the eye as you place the plate in the sink instead of the dishwasher. To Eddie, it’s like you want to watch the world burn.

Based on the look he gave you, you might be facing some repercussions for it, later.

Today is an attempt to make up for it, finally having the time to place your sweaters on the hangers and putting the pants back in their drawers. Eddie has a system, and you have to admit, it works. Your fingers brush the cooled off fabric as you fold each item, placing them in each perspective pile before starting to put them away. You hadn’t even realized the sheer volume of clothes you had put in the load. The detergent only vaguely smells like him, missing his essence, shampoo, and his cologne to top it all off. Still, the smell of it as you take a big inhale is intensely comforting.

Each pile is designated, so you move through them one at a time, the music blaring from the living room still used as a soundtrack. Pants, in the drawers. Shirts, hung up by type. Pajamas, put into a drawer. Your last pile is Eddie’s boxers, you fold them delicately by style and open the drawer to place them in, when a peak in the bottom of the already neat pile grabs your attention. Eddie is notorious for keeping piles meticulously organized so you grab the pile to start over when a soft thud hits the carpeted floor, grabbing your attention.

The object rolls out of sight, so you peer around the center console and the breath gets sucked out of your lungs when you see it. A small black velvet box sits upside down next to the white console, acting like it didn’t just bring tears to your eyes upon the very indication of what could be inside.

You pick the box up, Eddie’s underwear forgotten. You turn it over in your hands, thumb smoothing over the velvet as you contemplate opening it. Your hand itches for it, moving to open and backing out as soon as the seal is broken. Your teeth are grinding so hard as you place it on top of the center console and move to put Eddie’s underwear away, distracting yourself from doing something crazy.

The drawer closes, nothing else to do. The kitchen is done, living room is done, Dylan isn’t around for you to bother him and distract yourself. Mentally, you make a list of things you could be doing instead as you pace around the closet, the little box growing a big presence in the closed-in space. Your phone in your back pocket buzzes, you take it out, grateful for a distraction.

Shit, just someone you’ve spoken to once adding to their story. Your phone goes back into the pocket, and you stare at the box. It’s too tempting. It’s like Eddie staring at you with his dark brown eyes when he’s seducing you. How could you not give in to something when it tempts you so?

“Shit.” You whisper, walking slowly towards it. Finally, you let yourself open it, and your eyes well up as you see its silver and intricate design. It’s just what you envisioned for an engagement ring to be; you couldn’t have picked out a better ring even if you’d tried. How the hell did he find this? How did he know? Your hands are moving before you can even register. The music is still loud downstairs, but it’s muffled to you as your heartbeat takes over. The ring slides easily onto your left ring finger, and it fits perfectly. A tear falls down your cheek, an involuntary smile takes over your face.

Fuck, he does want to be with you forever, enough to go and get a ring. Your hands shakily move to remove it and it feels like torture as the ring lingers on the ridges of your fingerprint. Words can’t convey how hard it is to take it off. Who knows how long Eddie’s going to wait to propose? You don’t want to wait another day, let alone months. The idea of knowing but never knowing when he’s going to do it somehow feels worse than not knowing he has a ring to begin with.

No, you can’t even wait another hour. Your thumb hits the call button on Eddie’s name, top of your favorites, the recent calls, and your text messages. Doesn’t matter, if your thumb hits the top of your screen it’ll lead to him somehow.

He picks up on the second ring. “Hi, baby.” He greets you so warmly, a smile radiating in his voice.

You stare at the ring now sitting in your hand and nearly cry just from his tone alone. “Come home.”

“Wh-what, why?” Eddie asks, sounding alarmed. “Are you okay, did something happen, or--?” You can hear him moving around, he’s already getting ready to leave.

“I really need you right now.” You tell him, watching the silver band catch the fluorescent lighting of the closet. “Just come home.”

“Okay, sit tight, be right there. Love you.” Before you can respond, he hangs up, and you suddenly realize you have mere minutes to go and turn off the blaring music.

When Eddie bursts through the door, you greet him in the front entrance, the music turned off as you stand there with one hand behind your back, concealing the box in your hands. It lasts only a second. “Ask me.” You tell him, forgetting to show him the ring.

Eddie stops in his tracks; unsure he heard you correctly. He appears deeply concerned, his brow deeply furrowed and lips in a tight line. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh.” You let out, bringing the ring into his sight. Eddie’s eyes widen as he sees the box within your clenched grip. You shove it into his chest, eyes welling up as you tell him again. “Ask me. Get down on one knee and ask me.”

“A-a-are you sure? I had a plan, I was gonna make a whole romantic evening out of it—”

You interrupt him, happy tears shining in your eyes. “Edward Munson if you don’t ask me right now, I swear to god—”

“Okay, okay!” He chuckles, relieved his worry was all for nothing, yet his heart races as he shakily takes a breath and slowly lowers onto one of his knees. “Y/N L/N,” he starts, licking his lips as he smiles up at you. He holds out the tiny box you spent the last hour fidgeting with and opens it. “Will you marry me?” It couldn’t have looked any better…the shine in his eyes as he looks up at you, how the heavy breathing of his chest signals his nerves, his fingers fidgeting around the little black box.

You giggle through a teary yes, meeting him halfway as he rushes to his feet, grabby hands pawing at his face to yank him into a kiss. You’re both smiling too much to truly lock lips, feeling the top row of his teeth against your own gnash in the best of ways. “Put it on, put it on!” You mutter, your left hand tapping his chest impatiently.

His hands move quickly, stumbling as he slides it on. You can swear you see his eyes well up as he admires how it looks on your finger. “Back where it belongs.” You whisper to yourself, tapping your fingers on his chest.

The sentence takes a minute for Eddie to register as he smiles down at you, lovelorn. “Did you try the ring on?”

Your eyes widen, your face breaking into a wide smile. “I mean, with a ring as perfect as this one, how could I not?”

“Perfect, eh?” He asks, one hand moving up to caress your cheek. “I’ll take it.” He leans down to kiss you, all his emotions he fails to put into words conveying in the deep and lush kiss. It takes your breath away. “You sure? You wanna wear a pretty white dress and walk down the aisle to little old me?” Eddie ignored the subtle strain at his cock as he pictured you in a white dress at the opposite end of the aisle. Well, that’s new.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure!” You tell him, lightly bonking him as you continue to kiss him. “I wouldn’t have stared at the box for twenty minutes if I wasn’t sure.”

He separates from you, a smirk on his face. “Twenty minutes?”

“Yeah. If it wasn’t a ring, I think I would’ve died.” You confess easily, and the truth always comes so easy to you when it comes to Eddie. “Now kiss me some more.”

He laughs, leaning in for a slippery wet kiss. His breath is delicious, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss while his fingers trail along your side and rest on a patch of skin that’s exposed on your hip. It tugs the littlest of whimpers out of you, hands resting on his broad shoulders. His tongue licks along the bottom lip, asking for permission in a way he usually demands. You grant it, your foot taking an accidental step back on the hardwood.

Eddie’s hand that rests on your face moves down your neck, his rough fingers are tense as they seem to memorize every inch of your skin. Your neck tingles in its wake, a sigh of contentment leaves your lips. Eddie responds with a dirty exhale into your mouth and your jaw falls open in a sudden need for him. A sudden charge in you appears out of thin air, wanting more. “Ed.” You whimper out, clutching onto his jacket he’s still wearing.

He hums in response; you can feel his lips turn upward into a smirk as his hands continue their journey to your waistline. Your thighs clench together, craving friction on your heat that for whatever reason he hasn’t granted yet. You become impatient, moving the jacket off his shoulders and you’re happily greeted by the muscle shirt he’s wearing, his gorgeous arms on full display. His lips kiss down your neck, his hands spread out as if to touch every inch that they can, lifting your oversized t-shirt to expose the skin. You move to assist him, lifting your shirt above your head. It’s not going fast enough for you, there’s too much clothing on you.

Your feet unconsciously move toward somewhere you can lie down, the couch, the counter, the stairs, anywhere to prevent your knees from buckling embarrassingly. “Where you going?” He mutters, yet still allowing you to lead.

The back of your thighs meet the armrest of the couch. “The couch, apparently.” You answer, sighing as he continues to devour your neck.

Eddie inhales the perfume you spritzed that morning and lets out a chuckle. Before you can even ask, he pushes you by the shoulders, making you fall backwards onto the couch. “Fine by me.”

Your back hits the cushions, a rough landing as you bounce. Eddie crawls on top of you, tongue meeting your leg in a trail of wet kisses as he makes his way up to your pelvis. A whine leaves your throat, eyes closing in bliss as each kiss contributes to the blindingly hot need for him in your pussy.

Eddie reaches your crotch, and as he lifts his mouth from you, you expect him to take your shorts off. Instead, he puts his face in and inhales, moaning when your aroma hits his nose. Just from your smell he can tell how wet you are. “Baby you are soaked, aren’t you?” His brown eyes meet yours, lust overwhelming his eyes.

“Always.” You answer, not a hint of shame behind it. “Always ready for you.”

Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his head at your answer, groaning. Fuck, doesn’t that deserve a reward. His hands easily hook around the elastic band of your grey shorts, moving them swiftly off your legs. His original plan to tease you through your panties goes to shit, your eagerness driving the need to devour you like an arrow into his chest. The glisten of your folds is a sight to see– as always– as he makes himself comfortable on the couch, situating your legs over his shoulders. A squeal of giggles escapes your throat as he tugs your body to where he needs you. Your knees meet your torso, toes already curled at the anticipation as his hot and heavy breaths send jolts of pleasure and he hasn’t even touched your dripping cunt yet.

“Eddie.” Your voice comes out desperate.

Eddie smirks at it, it’s barely been a full minute since he tugged your shorts off. “I know.” One hand that rests on your thigh reaches forward for your left hand, toying with the ring that hasn’t been on your finger for more than five minutes. Your hand shakily grips his tightly and you clench your thighs around his head tightly in anticipation.

After what feels like ages, he finally leans in to devour you, using his tongue in one long stripe along your folds. The release it gives you is both not enough and everything you need. Your hips grind up to meet his mouth, heels digging in, and his deep chuckle vibrating against your pussy is too fucking good. Moans leave your mouth at your breathing rate, every breath being a whimper to let Eddie know how fucking good his mouth feels against you.

The hand still on your other thigh travels to play at your clit gently, and your moans go silent as your thighs fucking quake against him. Eddie can’t stop the satisfaction that purrs through him in the form of laughter. “Fuck, baby. Barely touched you.” He mutters, low enough he’s not even sure you hear him.

Halfway through a sigh, it turns into a laugh. “Mouth feels so good.”

Eddie hums in response, mouthing at your folds again before his tongue makes its way into you, his nose nuzzling your clit. He fucks you with his tongue and you grind against him, the grip on your left hand harsh and his nails now digging into your right thigh. “Cunt smells so fucking good.” He says, rutting his nose against your clit and knowing damn well what it was doing to you. “Tastes…” he pauses fucking you with his tongue again, “…tastes like fucking heaven, fuck, baby.”

Eddie is driving you to the edge quickly, your thighs tense against his head as your hips continue to grind up against him. Your free hand lands in his hair, pulling at the roots at every wave of pleasure he gives you. Eddie could swear the pulls feel like a heartbeat at his roots, not that he minds. As he continues and drives you faster to that high, he notices the tugs get faster and he moans when he realizes something you do not.

He slides two fingers in, moving them back and forth, listening to the sinful wet sounds your pussy makes as it weeps for him. As your slick makes a mess on his chin and hands as he smirks up at you, hooking his fingers against your g-spot. Your thighs clench even harder as the heat expands, radiating through your body and you barely have a second to think to warn him. “Ed, I, I—” He feels you flutter around his fingers as you cum, your legs shaking as you lose all control of your extremities. He saw it coming from a mile away, as the tugs on his hair became more frequent.

He continues to lick at the slick of your folds and finger you gently as you come down from your high, your entire body going limp. He gives one last kiss to your clit and kisses his way up your body, you watch as his wide smile comes closer and closer to you. “How’s my girl?”

A giggle leaves your mouth, smiling up at him gleefully. “I’m alright.” Eddie tickles your hip bone, and you squirm underneath him, giggling harder. “Okay, okay! Fuck!” Your legs wrap around his hips, and you tug his growing tent down to meet your exposed pussy. “Need you.”

“Need to feel that pussy wrapped around my cock, baby.” Eddie grinds himself into your heat, teasing himself, but admiring the way your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your heat is throbbing at this point, begging for more. “Need your cock in me, Ed. Want you to fuck me open.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, as he’s the one that usually does the talking. “Yeah? Need this big cock in that tight little pussy?”

“So fucking bad, Ed. Please give it to me.”

“Oh I’m gonna give it to you.” He leans forward for a wet and slobbery kiss, one that you embrace at tenfold. Your hand goes to his jeans where they’re laying now on your pelvic bone to undo the button, shakily attempting to with only one hand, the other still in his grip.

“Ed…” You whimper, tugging on the waistband wordlessly. “Get these fucking jeans off.”

Eddie chuckles as he climbs off you to take his jeans off. You sit up to watch him as his gorgeous figure gets undressed. Your hands move to your back to get rid of the bra that still hides your chest. He walks up to you sitting on the couch, placing a finger to tilt your chin up. You peer up at him with wide doe eyes, his cock only inches away from your face.

His thumb gently swipes at your bottom lip, admiring the shade of them. “So pretty.” He mutters, about to ask you to lay down.

“Wanna fuck it?” You ask, his cock mere inches from your face, you’re suddenly craving his balls up against your cheek and the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“Weren’t you just begging me to fuck your pussy?” He asks, searching your eyes for the sudden change in you.

Your mouth opens obediently, pulling a gasp of disbelief from Eddie. His cock literally twitches, and he realizes there’s no reason not to let you if you’re so eager to. He slides his cock in your mouth, watching as he slowly moves to the back of your throat, your doe eyes still looking up at him.

“Oh, my good girl.” He rubs at your cheek, feeling the length of himself against it. “Such a good girl for daddy.”

As much as you resist, your eyelids flutter shut, moving your head up and down, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck on him. You hear a groan of contentment out of him, and it only encourages you. One of his hands weaves itself into your hair, using it to guide you. You take yourself off his cock, breathing heavily as you take a long lick at a vein along the side of the shaft. Your left hand wraps around the length, jerking him off as you lean forward to take one of his balls into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, that’s so pretty.” He mutters, causing you to stop.

“Hmm?”

“Look, baby. Your ring on my cock…wanna take a picture…fuck.”

You don’t answer, just continuing to jerk him off as your mouth resumes its journey to his balls. You take one in your mouth, the hair on them smelling like sweat. You take a big inhale of them, sighing happily as you suck at the flesh. Eddie’s knee almost buckles as he sees what you’re doing, the idea that you were inhaling his raw scent too much for him to comprehend.

“Oh Jesus, trying to kill me.”

“No.” You mutter, hand still jerking him as you move to give the other side the same treatment. “Just blow you stupid.”

Eddie moans at your nonchalance, and as you finish with the second ball you move back to his cock, spitting on it and taking it back into your mouth. You give no warning as you take in as much as you can, focusing on getting him to the back of your throat. Before he can instruct you, you relax your throat and allow your nose meet his pubic hair, taking in the damn whimper that leaves his mouth, relishing in it.

“Fuck, if you keep going like this I will fucking blow.”

At his insistence, your mouth leaves his cock with a pop, still on your knees, completely naked as your eyes stare up at him. Eddie nearly loses his mind as he looks down at you, hands combing through your hair. “Lie down, baby.”

You need no more instruction, lying on the couch, your legs open as you wait for him. He sits himself in between them, hands framing your head as he looks at your face. “I can’t believe I get to marry someone so fucking beautiful.” Your eyes well up at the sentence as it fucking sucks the air out of your lungs.

Eddie barely gives you a chance to recover, sliding himself in you. Your jaw drops at it, eyelids growing heavy as you watch him carefully. “You can’t…you can’t just say something like that.” You whimper, gasping for breath. “It’s not fair.”

“I’ll say it because it’s the fucking truth.” Eddie states, watching for the signal when you’re ready for him to move. “God you in a fucking white dress, looking all sweet n’ shit…”

“Gonna be your wife.” Eddie’s hips buck into you in response, and a gasp falls from your lips in surprise. “Fuck!”

“Gonna be my fucking wife.” It comes out of him in a growl, a sense of pride runs through Eddie as he is elated he gets to share the discovery of his love of calling you his wife with you, finally. “Oh baby, pussy is so tight, just suckin’ me in.”

“Want that. Want you. Want us.” It babbles out, Eddie gaining speed as he watches your cocked out expression looking so adoringly up at him. You hold onto him, nails scratching down his back. He bucks harder, head buried in your neck as he attempts to calm himself down. “Want you to put a baby in me.”

A fucking growl leaves his throat and his head perks up to look at you. “Oh my god, I almost just came.” He says lowly.

“Really?” You ask him, eyes shining bright at his confession.

He nods, gulping. “Y-yeah.” Your legs tug him back down, lifting your hip to get him to fuck you more. A grunt of acknowledgement escapes his throat, back to business. “Gonna put a baby in you.”

“Oh fuck, Ed, just like that.”

“Gonna marry you and get you fucking pregnant, you’ll be my hot little housewife!”

“You’re in my fucking stomach Ed, fuck you’re so deep!”

Eddie cannot help the swell of pride he feels at this. “Gonna fill you up, baby.”

“Fuck…Ed,”

The moment your pussy flutters around him he cums into you, white sticky ropes filling you up. His weight collapses on you, your legs gripping on his torso tight, holding him in. Your eyelids feel heavy as you look up at him, holding his face. “You know, I really can’t wait to marry you.” Eddie tells you, his thumb toying with your ring, his hand resting on yours.

You gulp, the sentiment the same. He knows it by your expression and by your impatience, you can’t wait either. “How long—” you yawn, “how long have you had it?”

“Uh…since Harrington was here.” Eddie refuses to say Steve’s name while he’s inside you.

“What!?” Your eyes pop open in disbelief. “You’ve had this for weeks? And you haven’t asked me yet?”

“I knew I wasn’t fucking crazy.” Eddie mutters, and you peer up at him, eyebrow raised in a question. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Ok.” You yawn again, clutching onto his back. “We have all the time in the world for you to tell me, anyway.”

Eddie’s chest swells with emotion, clutching onto you like his lifeline. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

You nuzzle your nose into his hair, letting yourself get into his tangled curls. “Love you too.”

You fall asleep within seconds, Eddie texts his employees he had an emergency and can’t return for the day. He had a full day, but that was before you decided to take over his proposal.

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punkshort · 4 months

Text

look what we've become - ch.10

Chapter Summary: Tommy and Maria get married.

Chapter Warnings: language, marriage/wedding ceremony, mentions of pregnancy, so much fluff, so many feelings, soft joel, alcohol, talks of pregnancy, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk

WC: 7.1K

A/N: The finale is here, my friends! I want to say a quick thank you to all of you who came back week after week. All of your support means the world to me and encourages me to keep writing. I hope you find the ending is satisfying for these characters, I did my best to stay true to the story I've created here. It is very fluffy and maybe a little cheesy but I think these characters earned it. Enjoy ❤️

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter

"Oh my god, I'm so nervous," Maria said, staring at herself in the mirror as you helped apply her makeup. There was just an hour left before the ceremony, and the butterflies were finally beginning to get to her. "Fuck, I wish I could drink." You laughed as you leaned forward to apply more blush to her cheeks.

"What's there to be nervous about?"

"Oh, I don't know! Declaring your undying love for someone in front of every single person in the entire town while trying not to throw up?" she said sarcastically, her voice taking on a panicky tone.

"You'll be fine. When you see him, I'll bet you anything, all of that shit will just melt away and it'll just be you and him. No one else matters," you told her, holding her gaze and watching your words land. "He loves you so much, Maria. You two are perfect together. There's no reason to be afraid."

She just stared at you, dumbfounded, as she listened to your little speech.

"Not to take away from all that, but that's pretty impressive coming from someone who had a fear of marriage not too long ago," she teased. You rolled your eyes and turned around to pick up the mascara.

"Well, maybe I had a best friend who was nice enough to knock some sense into me," you told her with a smirk. "Now tilt your head back and open your eyes up super wide," you told her, dipping the wand into the tube several times, hoping there was enough product left over to make her look perfect.

"Ugh, when's it gonna be my turn," Carrie said with a pout, waltzing into Maria's living room with a glass of wine in her hand. You glanced up at her and stifled a laugh.

"You better slow down, it's gonna be a long night," you warned her, but she just waved you off as she collapsed into the recliner.

"Seriously, though. What's Jake waiting for? We've been together for ages and I'm not getting any younger," she said, taking a sip from her glass.

"Have you talked about your future together?" Maria asked, still staring up at the ceiling as you applied another coat of mascara.

"Yeah, but he's just taking forever. I wish I was like you and didn't care," Carrie said, nodding in your direction. Maria's eyes locked onto yours and you shrugged.

"Oh, yeah. I told her a long time ago," you said sheepishly, and she shook her head lightly.

"Well, if she knows everything, then I guess it's okay if I tell her you want to get married now?" Maria asked defiantly. Your eyes widened and you pressed your lips into a thin line when you heard Carrie jump up and clap her hands.

"I knew it! I knew you'd come around! Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, and you nearly dropped the makeup in your hand.

"Whoa, slow down! Joel doesn't even know how I feel about it, so let's keep this super fucking quiet, okay?" you told her, giving her a stern look. She nodded and pretended to zip her lips, but you pointed menacingly at her. "Promise me, Carrie. Don't say a goddamn thing."

"I promise!" she said, holding her hand up in defeat, the other still clutching her glass. "But why haven't you told him?"

"What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, remember all the hell I put you through? Yeah, that was all for nothing, I changed my mind, let's get hitched?'" you said sarcastically before putting the mascara away and giving Maria a hand mirror.

"I'll bet if you said that, he would totally be on board," Maria said with a laugh before handing you the mirror back.

"Well, why don't you ask him to marry you instead?" Carrie offered, staring at her nails and frowning at the chipped paint. Your jaw dropped at the suggestion.

"Oh my god, I can't do that!"

"Why not? What does it even matter? I bet he'd love it," Carrie said, looking back up at you. You slowly shook your head and then Maria chimed in.

"How do you know he isn't planning on asking you already?"

"Now? I really doubt it," you scoffed.

"You never know," she told you, standing up to fix her hair before glancing at the time. "Enough about you, it's my day so let's get me into my dress."

You laughed and followed her to her bedroom.

"Man, you are really bossy since you've gotten pregnant, you know that?" you said with a grin, and somewhere behind you Carrie giggled.

"Newsflash: I was bossy before. Now wait here so you can zip me into this damn thing because if I don't fit, I'm going to scream."

Maria had always wanted to get married outside, but it was almost November and the weather refused to cooperate any longer. She made sure to jokingly blame you for it as often as she could, claiming if your damn bones would just heal faster she might have been able to pull it off. But once you saw how beautifully the town hall was decorated, you almost wanted to tell her she owed you one because you couldn't possibly envision anything looking better outside. Carrie and Ellie had pitched in to help, and they made a stellar team.

The altar was a repurposed garden arch trellis painted white and adorned with mostly paper flowers, considering the time of year. Apparently, some of the older kids in Ellie's art class helped to make the flowers, and they looked absolutely stunning. They used whatever material they had on hand: some tissue paper, some fabric from torn up clothes, and even some paper bags that they ended up painting and dusting with glitter. It was so impressive, you made a mental note to compliment Ellie on it later.

An old, worn rug had been rolled down the aisle with loose flower petals disbursed on top, leading up to the altar. White candlesticks were being lit behind it on the table where most of the meetings took place, a beautiful white tablecloth covering the length of it.

"It looks really great out there," you whispered to Maria, who was hiding in the bathroom, pacing nervously across the floor.

"Yeah? Are they almost ready?" she asked, eyes wide and anxious.

"They're lighting the candles now, so I'm guessing the guys will be back here any minute," you told her with a reassuring smile. "Calm down, Maria. You look absolutely beautiful. There's nothing to worry about."

"Thanks," she said quickly, but continued to pace. "What if I'm making a huge mistake? Oh my god..."

"You aren't! Stop it!" you scolded her, holding out your hands to try to stop her from moving around so much. "You and Tommy are perfect together. I promise you, once you see him, all of your nerves are going to disappear."

She looked at you, trying to force herself to calm down and listen, but her chest was still rising and falling much quicker than usual.

"Besides, it's a little late. You're having his kid," you joked, glancing down at her belly. She furrowed her brows at you for just a second before dissolving into a fit of laughter, gripping the sink to hold her up while you crouched on the ground, laughing and holding your dress up around your knees, trying to catch your breath.

"I'm sorry!" you said, wiping a tear away. "I had to!"

"I'm gonna get you back for that one day," she said, finally getting ahold of herself, still clutching her stomach. "But I needed that. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I take my job as maid of honor very seriously," you told her, giving her a fake salute.

A sharp rap on the door made both of you swivel your heads towards the sound.

"They're linin' up out here," you heard Joel's low drawl filter through the door. You glanced at Maria and grinned.

"You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said, a nervous smile spreading across her face. You pulled her in for one quick hug before heading to the door. You cracked the door open and squeezed out, shutting it behind you quickly so nobody would get a sneak peek of the bride.

Joel was standing a couple feet away, fiddling with his cuffs, his back to the door. When he turned around to look at you, you could have sworn time stood still.

He was wearing a black suit and white shirt underneath, no tie per Maria's request, with the top two buttons of his shirt undone. He grinned as his eyes raked up and down your body, trying to express his appreciation over your dress, but you were still transfixed by the sight of him. You weren't sure if it was the paper boutonniere pinned to his lapel that made the difference, because you had seen him in a suit countless times in the past, or how he took the extra effort to trim his beard and style his hair, but something about the moment sent your mind into overdrive. Carrie's words from earlier in the day kept repeating in your head: why don't you ask him to marry you instead? And you were so caught up in the moment that you almost considered it. You wanted him looking like this for you. And you wanted to be nervously pacing the bathroom for him. All of a sudden, you wanted it so badly that you couldn't think about anything else.

"You look beautiful," Joel murmured, giving your cheek a quick kiss, completely oblivious. You managed to give him a shaky smile in return before curling your arm around his as he led you over to the back of the wedding party line. You stared straight ahead, vaguely listening to Jake and Carrie in front of you chatting quietly, your mind still reeling. Where did this come from? Why couldn't you have felt like this a few months ago? Why did you always have to complicate everything?

"She all set in there?" Seth asked you, his hand on the bathroom door. You nodded.

"Yep, she's ready. You can go in and get her once Tommy's gone."

You thought you had gotten yourself back on task but when Joel began to lead you down the aisle and your eyes locked with various friends and neighbors as you slowly made your way to the altar, your heart began thudding so loudly in your chest that you were sure everyone could hear it, even over the sound of Bill playing the piano to a familiar ballad you couldn't quiet name. Your grip on his arm tightened a fraction and you felt him glance over at you.

"You okay?" he whispered.

You didn't trust yourself to look at him, so you just gave a quick nod, staring straight ahead at Frank, the town's officiant. Fortunately, you were almost at the altar, so he let you go, giving you a chance to breathe. He went to stand next to Tommy, and you next to Carrie. As you turned to await Seth and Maria, your eyes found Joel's and you felt your throat tighten at the sight of him next to the beautiful archway. You might have been wrong, but you could have sworn you saw something in his eyes when he looked at you this time. His lips parted like he was suddenly short of breath and the grip he had on his left wrist tightened.

When Bill suddenly changed tunes and all the guests stood from their chairs, you dragged your eyes away from Joel, watching with a smile as Seth led Maria down the aisle. She looked a lot more confident now that she was making her way to Tommy, who was doing his best not to shed the tears that had been threatening to fall ever since he walked into the building.

You tried your best to listen to Frank, but your eyes kept drifting past Tommy and Maria and landing on Joel, who appeared to also be having a difficult time paying attention. He shifted his weight and he took a few deep breaths, but he could feel your eyes on him and he couldn't focus. He just prayed when the time came to hand over the rings, he wouldn't be completely distracted because the last thing he wanted to do was let his brother down on his big day.

Joel risked a glance in your direction when he noticed you lean down to fix Maria's dress. God, you looked so pretty. Standing there at the altar in that beautiful dress and your hair styled perfectly. If he tuned everyone out, he could pretend it was his wedding instead of Tommy's. That all these people were here to listen to the two of you profess your undying love for each other, to celebrate you committing yourselves to the other. He told you he would stop bringing it up, but something about what you said last night and now the way you looked at him today made him decide he was going to break that promise.

Luckily, he snapped out of it when he heard Frank begin to talk about the rings and what they signified, so he reached into his jacket pocket, fingers dipping into the silky material. He felt the smooth metal then paused when he realized there was only one ring in there. Wrong pocket.

He pulled his hand out and tried the other breast pocket. Sure enough, he pulled out both rings and handed them over to Tommy with a smile.

As Tommy and Maria exchanged vows, you did your best to focus on their words, putting Joel out of your mind for just a few minutes so you could be present for your best friend. But as you watched Maria slip the gold band around Tommy's finger, flashes of Joel wearing a similar ring clouded your vision and you had to look away. Fuck, what was wrong with you?

Your eyes snapped back at them when you heard the guests all clapping and cheering as they sealed the deal with their first kiss. You quickly joined in, hoping nobody noticed the delay, then leaned down to move the train of Maria's dress so she and Tommy could make their way down the aisle. You watched as they reached the end of the aisle, giving each other one more kiss and earning another chorus of cheers when suddenly you heard Joel's voice in your ear.

"We're next."

You looked up at him, eyes wide and surprised until you noticed his elbow jutted out towards you.

"Right, sorry," you said, looping your hand through his arm as you let him lead you down the aisle, hoping that you didn't look as red as you felt.

Tommy and Maria greeted guests after the ceremony in the small foyer where you had previously lined up to enter the hall. It was absolutely packed, and you quickly got lost in the shuffle. At one point, you saw Ellie with a couple of friends from school, and you had tried to make your way over to them, wanting to tell her what a great job she did on the decorations, but you had gotten stopped by one of her teachers and you lost sight of her.

"If you had the time next week, I would love to have a chat with you about Ellie's participation in class. It's nothing to be worried about, she's still acclimating, and I understand that, but she just needs to learn that there is a time and place to voice her opinions," Mrs. Baker was telling you.

"Of course, I can stop by Monday if that works?"

"That would be delightful, dear. She's a very bright girl. I just don't think the other children in class need to hear about Napoleon's explicit love letters to Joséphine."

You bit back a laugh as you forced a serious nod and furrowed your brow.

"I'll make sure to talk to her," you assured her. That seemed to finally end the conversation because Mrs. Baker smiled and turned to find her husband, right as you felt someone's familiar touch wrap around your waist from behind.

"Hey, you," you said, twisting around in Joel's arms to look up at him.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?" he asked, his eyes dipping down to sneak a peek at your cleavage.

"You may have mentioned it," you said, draping your arms around his neck as you gazed up at him.

His eyes drifted around the packed room before looking back down at you.

"You wanna get outta here?"

You laughed, then stopped when you realized he was serious.

"Joel, we can't-"

"We got time before the reception," he said, dipping his mouth down to plant a kiss against your bare shoulder. "Look at this place. No one'll even notice we're gone."

"What did you have in mind?" you asked him, raising an eyebrow when he straightened back up. He shrugged and tried to hide his smirk.

"Thought maybe we could finish what we started last night in the shower," he said, leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt a jolt at your center, and even though you knew you shouldn't, you caved.

"We can't be gone long," you warned him, and he nodded before leading you by the hand through the throngs of people towards the exit.

Joel was right. Nobody even noticed you were missing. The entire town was empty, save for a few kind souls who were keeping watch at the gates as you made your way quickly back home. You had barely twisted the lock on the door when Joel's mouth was already on your neck, pressing you up against the wood, his hands greedily roaming down your sides and around the back to squeeze your ass. You giggled against his mouth and managed to break away.

"So I wasn't ready last night, but tonight I am?" you teased, backing up towards the stairs as he stalked after you.

"Yep," was all he offered, and you grinned before grabbing his hand and hauling him as quickly as you could up the steps.

He crowded you into the bedroom, his hands trying and failing to figure out how to work your dress. You waved him off and took a step back.

"Let me take this off and hang it up before you ruin it," you said with a grin. Reluctantly, he nodded, his heated gaze watching you as you made your way backwards into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

You hurriedly removed your dress, leaving you in just a slip over your bra and panties, and hung it on the hanger you had left over the curtain rod earlier that day. You walked over to the mirror, staring at your reflection, trying to collect your thoughts.

Maybe you should do it. Maybe you should just ask him to marry you. Would that be so awful? Maybe Carrie was onto something.

You glanced around the bathroom, looking for something that could take the place of a ring. You saw an elastic hair tie of yours sitting next to the sink and you snatched it up, wrapping it around your wrist before taking a deep breath. You could do this.

Before you lost your nerve, you swung the door open, then gasped.

Joel was waiting for you, already on bended knee with a stunning diamond ring pinched between his fingers.

He was nervous. You could tell he was doing his best to hide it, but you saw how shakily his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed. His eyes were all soft and wide as they looked up at you from the ground, filled with such love and hope and vulnerability that it made you want to melt to the floor next to him.

"I know I said I wasn't gonna bring this up again," he started, his voice trembling, "but I can't help it. You just looked so beautiful standin' up there today and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you and me."

Your hands slowly came up to cover your mouth as your brows pinched together, trying your hardest not to cry so you could commit the moment to memory.

"I know you said you were scared. I'm scared, too. But look at what we've been through. There's nothin' we can't do when we're together," he said, taking a moment to swallow nervously as he watched you flick a stray tear away from the corner of your eye.

"My life began when the world ended," he told you after taking a deep breath, finally saying the words he rehearsed in his head a thousand times. "I've never felt like this 'bout anybody. You make me whole. You make me want to be a better man. You make me laugh and you drive me crazy and I wouldn't have it any other way."

You giggled as more tears clouded your vision.

"If you marry me, I promise I'll keep you safe. I promise I'll love you til the end of time. And I promise I'll never ask for anythin' in return because you're all I want. You're all I need."

You couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They steadily streamed down your cheeks as you sunk to the floor in front of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him before pulling back to look at him and nodded.

"Yes, I'll marry you."

A huge grin spread across his face when he leaned forward for another urgent kiss, his hand trembling as it gripped the back of your neck. He let you go just long enough to clumsily put the ring he was holding on your finger, and you had to blink the tears away so you could get a better look at it.

"I love it," you sniffled, looking up at him earnestly as you twisted it around your finger. "How long have you had it?"

"Months. I don't even know," he admitted, the adrenaline coursing through his veins making his voice shake. You grinned and looked down at the ring again, admiring how it sparkled even in the dim light of the bedroom.

"Oh, wait!" you said, suddenly remembering something. You pulled the hair tie off your wrist and wrapped it around his own. He looked down at it, confused, before looking back up at you.

"I was about to ask you to marry me but I didn't have a ring," you said, then giggled when you saw the expression on his face. "You beat me to it."

"It's perfect," he said, looking back down at his wrist before pulling you close again. "You're perfect."

He wrapped his arms around your middle and lifted you up from the floor, grunting when he straightened his knee, and walked you backwards towards the bed while his tongue invaded your mouth hungrily. You let out a surprised squeak when he gave you a slight push, causing you to fall back onto the mattress. You bit your lip and watched as he shrugged off his suitcoat before he began working on the buttons of his shirt.

"Wait! Don't let that get wrinkled, Maria will kill you," you warned him, and he rolled his eyes with a grin before stooping down to pick up the jacket. He draped it over the back of a chair and raised his eyebrows at you for approval.

"Thank you," you told him sweetly, but he just shook his head as he pulled off his shirt, giving it the same treatment as the jacket.

"We ain't even married yet and you're already bossin' me around," he joked, making you laugh.

"I hate to tell you this, but I've always bossed you around."

He chuckled as he shed the rest of his clothes before crawling on top of you, latching his mouth onto your neck while he ground his hips into yours, the sensation taking your breath away momentarily.

"That's alright, sweetheart. You can boss me around all you want, so long as I get to boss you around in here," he murmured against your skin while his hand drifted down your side and pulled your slip up and over your head. He sat back so he could kneel between your legs, his hands dancing over your skin as he took a moment to admire your body.

"Can't believe you're all mine," he said softly, almost like he was talking to himself. "I'm the luckiest man in the world, y'know that?" he asked, glancing back up from your body to meet your eyes.

"C'mere," was all you said, beckoning him towards you with your arms. He didn't need to be told twice. He fell forward, his forearms caging you in as you pulled him into another kiss, but this time it was more deliberate. Slower, yet still forceful as you tried to express all your feelings for him into one moment.

As much as you wanted to take your time, you knew you really shouldn't be gone too long from the festivities, so you reached down between your bodies to pull down your panties while your tongues still danced together. Without even looking, his hand instantly found the aching heat between your legs. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers dragged up and down your folds, your slick audible against his skin, making you blush.

"Fuck," he whispered as he pulled away from your lips. "So wet for me. You want me that bad?" he asked, lifting himself up so he could look down and watch as his fingers slowly disappeared inside your body, making you gasp his name and clutch his shoulders.

"No," you finally managed to croak out, making his movements pause inside you as he looked back up to meet your eyes. "I need you. Not want. Need."

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards and his fingers continued to stretch you open. He could feel you clench around him when he began to move his wrist faster, but then his thumb brushed up against your clit and you let out a filthy moan and he knew it wouldn't be much longer.

"C'mon, come for me. I wanna watch my future wife fall apart on my fingers like a good girl."

"Oh fuck, Joel," you whined, squeezing your eyes shut while your nails dug into his skin. With one more flick of his thumb he sent you hurtling over the edge, the wave of heat traveling up your whole body in a matter of seconds while you fought to catch your breath and stay present.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" he said with a chuckle. He slowly removed his fingers and you felt yourself twitch from the loss. He smeared your release over the tip of his cock while you struggled to come back down to earth underneath him. "You like it when I call you my future wife? Think you came just from hearin' that alone."

"Yes," you whispered, forcing your eyes open to look at him as he lined himself up against your opening.

"Good," he replied, dropping his hand to your hip as he pushed forward, entering you slowly, drawing out another moan from your throat. He had barely given you time to recover, but it didn't matter. "'Cause I like it, too," he groaned, falling forward when his hips met yours, bottoming out inside you.

"Y'feel so good," he whined against your shoulder, his arms squeezing you so tightly that you finally realized why he wanted to wait so long after your injuries. "Christ, missed this so much."

"Me, too," you whimpered into his hair, his clutch around you not letting up. "But Joel?"

"Hm?"

"I really need you to fuck me now."

He grinned against your shoulder and tilted his head up to look at you.

"Bossy," he said while simultaneously rolling his hips, making you sigh with relief.

"You love it," you moaned, eyes sliding shut as he continued to drag his cock in and out slowly, making sure you felt every inch while he yanked down your bra so he could wrap his lips around your nipple, flicking his tongue over it with an appreciative groan.

As your hands got lost in his hair, you felt your ring swivel around your finger, a gentle reminder that this was real. After everything you put him through, he still wanted you. He never gave up. He stood by your side and waited for you to be ready, no matter how badly it may have hurt him. You pulled him close as you blinked back tears, suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion.

"What's wrong?" he asked when he picked up on your sudden mood shift, his hips still rocking into you slowly, cock dragging heavily in and out, in and out. You wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles behind him, trying to get as close as possible.

"Nothing," you assured him, your hands sliding from his hair to grip the sides of his head, pulling him down for a searing kiss. "Just love you so much," you panted when he lifted his head a fraction to examine your face. Satisfied with your answer, his mouth crashed messily over yours again.

"Love you, too," he whispered into your mouth, your little gasps swallowing his words. "Love you so fuckin' much, can't wait to make you mine. Can't wait til I can call you my wife. Fuck, you make me so happy," he rambled as his hips began moving faster, snapping against you roughly, punching the air out of your lungs.

He felt you pulse around him, drawing him in as your teeth sunk into your lip. He adored how you responded to him, especially to his words. That it turned you on to hear him talk about marrying you instead of the visceral reaction you had a few months ago. Maybe it was time that did it, or maybe it was almost losing one another, but whatever it was, he didn't care.

You whispered his name and when he looked at you, with your eyes dark and your cheeks flushed, he felt like he was falling in love all over again.

"I'm here. I got you," he mumbled, and when your thighs tensed around his middle, squeezing him to the point where he could barely move, he knew. Two tears trickled down your cheeks when you came, his name sounding like a prayer on your lips, your nails breaking the skin on his sweaty back. The little bit of pain sent him tumbling over the edge, his brain almost not catching up in time to pull out as he spilled his release all over your stomach.

He rolled over with a groan, both of you struggling to catch your breath as you stared up at the ceiling.

"Do we really gotta go back?" Joel asked after a moment, and you giggled.

"Yes! It's your brother's wedding, Joel. How would you like it if he snuck off and never came back during our wedding?"

A stupid grin stretched across his face when he heard you say the words our wedding. It felt so surreal.

"I wouldn't care 'cause I'll sneak you away first. Don't know how I'll make it through the whole night, what was I thinkin'?" he joked, and you playfully slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle before standing up with a grunt. He pulled his boxers back on before heading to the bathroom to dampen a washcloth. As his fingers tested the temperature of the water, his eyes fell on the hair tie around his wrist and he smiled.

"Y'know I'm never takin' this off, right?" he asked, holding up his wrist as he walked back into the bedroom. You made a face and shook your head as he began to clean you up.

"Please tell me you're joking. That was such a dumb idea," you said, plucking at the hair tie as you spoke.

"Not dumb. I love it," he said sincerely, giving you a hand so you could stand up and begin to get dressed. "It's like my engagement ring."

"Men don't have engagement rings," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"Well, this man does," he said defiantly. You sighed, knowing it was a losing battle.

"Whatever makes you happy," you said before giving him one more quick kiss, then headed back to the bathroom to pull your dress from the hanger. Even though you teased him for it, you secretly loved that he wanted to wear the hair tie. Like he wanted the constant reminder already that he belonged to you, and you to him.

"Okay, I won't take it off, but I have to at least turn it around so people won't notice the diamond," you told Joel as you walked up the steps of the Tipsy Bison. "I am not going to steal attention on Maria's day. Those pregnancy hormones are insane, she might kill me."

"Fine," Joel replied before opening the door for you. "But startin' tomorrow, I'm tellin' everyone."

The two of you walked into the crowded bar, pushing your way through the throngs of people laughing and drinking and some dancing to the upbeat music being played over the loudspeaker. You spotted Tommy and Maria close to the bar, surrounded by neighbors giving them their well wishes. Tommy had his arm lovingly draped over Maria's shoulders with a whiskey in his other hand, and she had an unconscious hold on her stomach as she smiled and laughed at something Mrs. Potter said.

"Hey, there's Ellie," Joel said in your ear, drawing your eyes from the newlyweds. You smiled when you saw Ellie with another girl across the bar, sitting closely together on top of a table, their legs swinging over the edge as they spoke.

"Let's go see her, I wanted to tell her what a great job she did on the decorations."

You took Joel's hand and led him through the crowd, and just when you were a couple feet away from her, about to call out her name, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against the other girl's lips. You stopped short, stunned, but your presence must have been noticeable because she pulled back immediately, eyes wide and cheeks red as her gaze darted between you and Joel, panic written all over her face. She slid down from the table quickly and you could see the hurt that flickered across the girl's face when Ellie tried to put distance between them.

"Uh, hey," she said nervously. "It's not what-"

"Ellie, relax," you replied, cutting her off. "It's okay." You looked back at Joel. He still looked surprised but he was doing his best to collect himself. "We didn't know you were seeing anybody," you said, turning back to her. Ellie looked over her shoulder at the other girl, who appeared to be incredibly uncomfortable. She held her hand out after a moment, and the girl gave her a shy smile before taking it and jumping down from the table to stand next to her.

"Guys, this is Dina," Ellie said proudly, pulling her closer. Dina smiled and gave a small wave. "Dina, these are..." she trailed off, not really sure what to call you. You were about to rescue her and just tell Dina your names when Ellie spoke first.

"These are my parents."

You whipped your head in her direction, completely taken aback. You felt Joel grip your hand tightly and without even looking at him, you knew he was having the same reaction as you.

"Is that... okay?" she asked after a moment, suddenly feeling vulnerable. You quickly nodded and fought back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks.

"Yeah," you said breathlessly after swallowing the lump in your throat. "Dina, it's so great to meet you," you said, turning to the dark haired girl with a smile.

You heard Joel say something similar, his voice also thick with emotion, but you barely registered what he said. Your head was spinning with the life changing events from the past hour, completely overwhelmed with how everything turned out. Just a few short months ago, you were afraid you were going to lose everything, and now here you were, surrounded by your family, about to start out on a new chapter of your lives together.

"There you are!" you heard Maria's voice ring out over the music. You moved aside, standing closer to Ellie and Dina so you could make room for Tommy and Maria.

"Sorry! I had... a problem with my dress. I had to run home for a minute," you said, the lie rolling off your lips. You could see the look in her eye. She wanted to question you, but considering Ellie was standing right there, she let it go.

"It's fine. All you missed was everyone doing shots while I stood there drinking lemonade, having just as much fun," she said sarcastically, and Tommy chuckled at her side.

"Speaking of - let's get you both somethin' to drink," Tommy said, nodding his head towards the bar.

"Can I have a drink?" Ellie asked. You and Joel turned your heads towards her and at the exact same time, giving her a resounding no!

She rolled her eyes but exchanged a mischievous look with Dina when suddenly, your own teenage years began flooding back to you and you realized there was a pretty good chance she would get that drink, anyway.

"C'mon," Maria said, reaching for your hand as Joel took a step closer to Tommy, the two of them discussing their very strong opinions about the music choice. "I wanna show you-"

She stopped speaking and stared at you like she saw a ghost. The smile melted from your face as your brows furrowed, suddenly concerned.

"Are you okay?" you asked, glancing down at her stomach, but then you felt her hand clench yours tighter, the pad of her finger rubbing up against the diamond you had twisted around towards your palm. Your eyes shot back up to hers and you felt your ears turning red.

"Maria-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Her voice was so loud, you were surprised it didn't draw more attention. You felt the heat spreading to your cheeks and you glanced nervously at Joel, who was still trying to figure out the reason for her outburst.

You shook your head and grabbed her arm with your other hand, trying to shush her and explain quietly.

"It's your day, I'm not saying anything, don't worry!" you began, trying to ease her mind, but a smile just broke out across her face and you finally realized her exclamation was not one of anger, but excitement.

She looked at you, her eyes filling with tears, before looking over at Joel and Tommy. Joel finally seemed to figure it out and he slowly grinned, but Tommy continued to look confused.

Maria yanked your hand up and twisted your ring around so the diamond was showing, and you heard Ellie gasp next to you.

"Holy shit!" Ellie said excitedly, while Maria squealed and jumped in place before pulling you into a tight hug.

"We're gonna be sisters," she said softly in your ear, and you giggled, holding her tightly against you as you swayed back and forth. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy pull Joel into a hug and gave him a firm clap on the back, then Ellie bounced over to do the same.

"When?" Maria asked, finally pulling back to look at the ring again.

"Um, like an hour ago?" you guessed, your hand shaking as you held it out for her to inspect.

Suddenly, Ellie's arms were wrapped around you, and Maria dropped your hand so you could return the hug. You buried your face in Ellie's hair as you watched Maria give Joel a kiss on the cheek.

"Congrats," Ellie said when she pulled away.

"Yeah, congrats!" Dina added, and you laughed as you thanked them both.

"I knew it when I saw the way Joel looked at you that very first day in that meeting," Tommy said, and you broke away from Ellie to give him a hug.

"God, that was ages ago," you said with a laugh, but he just shook his head.

"Yeah, but I know my brother. He don't fall too easy, and you knocked him on his ass in a minute," Tommy said, pulling back with a kiss on your cheek.

Tommy insisted the good news called for shots, so he led you and Joel up to the bar and ordered three shots of tequila. While you waited, you felt Joel's hand around your waist and his lips against your ear.

"Is it bad that I already wanna take you back home?"

You grinned and turned around in his arms.

"We just got here," you said, tugging playfully at the lapels on his jacket. He gave you a look that made your knees weak and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Just a few dances and maybe we can sneak away."

He grinned, pleased with the compromise as Tommy held out the shot glasses to you both.

The three of you clinked your glasses together before downing the shots, wincing as the alcohol burned your throat on the way down.

Seth's voice shouted over the crowd that it was time for the first dance. You watched, Joel's arms wrapped around you from behind, as Tommy led Maria to the middle of the dance floor while a Johnny Cash song played over the loudspeakers. After a minute, Tommy and Maria waved their arms out to the crowd, encouraging couples to join them.

"Wanna dance?" Joel asked, his breath tickling your neck. You nodded and his arms dropped from your waist as you led him to the dance floor.

With one hand around the back of his neck and the other firmly in his grip, he led you slowly, his eyes drinking you in as you gazed up at him lovingly.

After everything you had been through, everything you both endured, you were exactly where you were meant to be: right in his arms. His strong, capable arms that would move mountains for you. That have done unspeakable acts to save you. That have cradled you and cared for you and brought you back to life, in more ways than one.

And as he held you close, you wondered how on earth you could ever have doubted what you have. Because Joel was right: there was nothing you couldn't do, as long as you were together.

A/N: I know I will probably get questions about it so I will just leave this here: I purposely left the option for children open ended. You can choose your own adventure ❤️

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