#Sarah made it for him for his birthday one year because he had told her he has trouble sleeping because of his anxiety

[frogmanfae]

Modern David Jacobs sleeps with a weighted stuffed animal. It probably smells like lavender.

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: September 26th, 2003

Plot: There are very few tragedies in life that come with warning.

Word Count: 12.8k (longest chapter yet)

Warnings: tlou ep.1 spoilers, language, canon-typical violence, gore, blood, guns, death, loss of a child, injuries, implied smut (16+)

A/N: Well, we’ve arrived at that fateful chapter…this took so long to even be emotionally able to write. There are so many small details that I hope people catch, and plenty of things to remember for future chapters.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless your age/range is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I hope y’all enjoy this one, and thank you so much for all the kind words, theories and general love I receive throughout the week 💞

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September 26th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

There are very few tragedies in life that come with warning.

Families of the terminally ill are given a vague timeline of when they’ll lose their loved one.

Soldiers are told before marching into battle that they may lose their life.

But a car crash does not announce itself before causing the collision.

A heart attack doesn’t prepare its victim before it steals their breath.

Nor did Cordyceps feel it owed the world any notice before it arrived.

On the morning of September 26th, Y/n was awoken by strips of sunlight coming through the blinds of Joel’s bedroom window. She was the early riser out of the two and she never minded, it gave her more time to admire the handsome lump weighing her down.

Y/n brushed a strand of hair off her boyfriend’s forehead and pressed a feather light kiss to it. Joel didn’t wake easily, but she liked to say she at least tried the sweet way before having to go nuclear. She gently rubbed his back, running her palm up and down the warm skin, but it only made him settle deeper into her chest. Y/n smiled and shook her head, knowing that in mere seconds….

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

It truly was miraculous how deep Joel could go into his rest. Y/n rolled her eyes and tried to reach across the pillows to switch off the clock, her fingers wiggling in the air as she strained. With his arms firmly wrapped around Y/n’s body, Joel didn’t even budge.

Finally, salvation came in the form of Sarah banging on the bedroom door, jolting Joel awake.

“Alarm,” the girl called, raising her voice the second time, “Alarm!”

“Thank you,” Y/n called back.

Joel rolled over, barely aware of his surroundings, and switched off the clock. He pushed up on one arm and turned back to his girlfriend, watching him with a smirk.

“What?”

Y/n shook her head, “You must be great in emergencies.”

Joel rubbed at his eyes, “Maybe I’m a little tired because someone wore me out last night.”

“Oh, don’t blame me for this,” Y/n laughed, “A year and a half and I’ve never seen you wake up when your alarm goes off. Not once.”

Joel looked down at her, squinting from the sunlight, a small smile playing on his lips, “Maybe I hear it, but there’s a more compellin’ reason to ignore it.”

He slipped back down into the sheets, resting his head once again on Y/n’s chest.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Y/n began to shimmy out of his arms, “We gotta get up.”

Joel tightened his hold around her torso, “My birthday, I make the rules.”

“No, it’s your birthday and Sarah and I make the rules,” Y/n corrected. Joel had never been one for celebrating the day, meaning it was up to Sarah and Y/n to make the day special, “What you want actually ranks very low on the list.”

Joel was paying very little attention to his girlfriend’s words, trailing a line of kisses up the chest of his t-shirt she was wearing and across her neck. “Five minutes,” he mumbled against her skin.

“No,” Y/n denied, her pulse speeding up the further his lips travelled.

“Yes,” Joel ignored her protests, making his way up to where her jawline met her ear.

“No,” Y/n laughed, her words not lining up with her reaction as she ran a hand over Joel’s hair.

“Say it again, honey,” Joel whispered against her ear, “And mean it.”

Y/n was teetering on the edge of letting him take what he wanted, but her loyalty to Joel’s daughter won out. “Sarah’s cooking you breakfast,” she said, slipping her hand between their chests, “And I’m not gonna be the one to tell her that her dad missed out on her efforts because he was horny.”

Joel snorted, dropping his head and laughing against Y/n’s chest.

Y/n pulled his face up to hers and laid a kiss on his lips, “Happy Birthday.”

“Just another reminder I’m gettin’ old,” Joel grumbled.

“True,” Y/n smiled, taking his scratchy cheeks into her palms, “But you’re my old man.”

Joel chortled, running his hands over Y/n’s body one last time before reluctantly rolling off of her. Their day had to begin, whether he wanted it to or not…

The two got dressed for work, while Y/n hadn’t officially moved in with the Millers, it was her second home. She kept practically one of everything in Joel’s room because of how often she slept over.

Y/n was the first of them down the stairs, landing in the kitchen where Sarah was already laying strips of bacon in a pan, “Can you take this so I can get the eggs?”

“You got it,” Y/n responded, switching places with the girl.

Sarah opened the fridge doors, getting a whiff of the inside, “When was the last time we cleaned this out?”

“Uh, two weeks ago, I think,” Y/n replied.

“Well, something died in it recently,” Sarah stated, grabbing a bowl to whisk the eggs in.

Sarah and Y/n’s relationship had stayed as steady as her and Joel’s. She’d expected some sort of pushback eventually, Sarah had just hit the teenage years, but it had yet to come. Y/n theorized it was because the young girl was just happy to have a woman in her life, but she felt like that was giving herself too much credit.

With the protein cooking on the stove, Sarah started searching through the cabinets. Joel had just come downstairs, still buckling his belt.

“Where’s the pancake mix?” Sarah asked her dad.

Still groggy, Joel scrunched his brows. “Oh, I was-” he’d forgotten the trip to the store he was supposed to take the night before, “Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

“I was gonna make you birthday pancakes,” his daughter complained, marching to the fridge and muttering to herself, “I swear…”

Joel ignored the smell of the food cooking and headed straight for the coffee pot, “You know, I don’t really like pancakes.”

“I know you don’t,” Sarah replied, pouring a glass of orange juice, “It was for my and Y/n’s benefit.”

“We’ll survive,” Y/n said, working on the eggs while Sarah was away, “Though pancakes are a weird thing to not like.”

Joel bristled at his girlfriend’s remark, turning around and facing Sarah with the glass of juice extended towards him.

“Vitamin C,” she explained.

For as much as Joel took care of his daughter, the roles were beginning to shift the older they both got. Sarah could spot his bad habits and tried to fix them wherever she could, the biggest one being his lack of actual nutrition. The man existed on coffee.

Joel took the glass from her, setting his mug down and humoring Sarah with a sip.

Y/n chuckled as she watched his expression turn sour, “Look more enthusiastic. I dare you.”

Joel grimaced, proceeding to pick up the coffee as soon as Sarah was back at the stove.

“You get your, uh, homework done?” Joel asked Sarah, waiting for her smile when she turned around, “Fractions?”

Sarah laughed, it was fact not only that she was ahead of her classmates, but Y/n was her tutor when it came to math. Joel wanted nothing to do with the subject.

Y/n and Sarah plated the feast and the three of them sat down at the table, as they did most mornings. Between Y/n and Joel’s work schedules and Sarah’s extracurriculars, it was the only guaranteed time they had each day to spend together.

“How old are you again?” Sarah asked her dad.

“Thirty-six,” Joel answered with a mouthful of egg.

“Gonna have to start wearing diapers soon,” Sarah joked, her tone remaining remarkably even.

”Who says I don’t already?” Joel replied, it wasn’t hard to track where Sarah’d gotten her humor from. He proceeded to pick something out of his teeth, looking to his daughter, “Shell.”

“Calcium,” she said, grinning wide with a mouthful of eggs on display.

“Lovely,” Joel muttered, looking over at Y/n as she laughed, “You’re encouragin’ bad table manners.”

Y/n shrugged and held her coffee mug to her lips, ”I see it as supporting a potential future as a comedian.”

The truck engine in the driveway signaled that Tommy was there to pick his brother and Y/n up for the day.

“Is there enough for Uncle Tommy?” Joel asked Sarah.

“There would’ve been,” Sarah grumbled into her plate, still bitter about the lack of pancakes.

“I can whip him up something, if we’ve got time,” Y/n offered.

Joel shook his head, “Nah, we gotta get going.”

Tommy entered through the garage door, the most carefree of them all. “Ay,” he clasped Joel’s shoulder, “You’re still alive, you old fucker.”

“Language,” Y/n chastised, she’d been trying for months to curb Tommy’s soldier’s mouth around Sarah. It wasn’t working.

“Aw,” Sarah cooed to Joel, “He loves you.”

“He’s dependent on me,” Joel watched his brother begin to raid his kitchen, “Not the same.”

Sarah shrugged, “I think it’s the same.”

“It’s definitely the same,” Tommy said, examining the countertops for food, “I thought we was havin’ pancakes.”

“The age started to take his memory last night,” Y/n’s tone turned serious as she pressed a hand to Joel’s bicep, “We’re meeting him where he is.”

Joel’s smirk contradicted the glare he shot his girlfriend, letting her hand stay on his arm through the teasing. “We’ll pick you up somethin’ on the road,” he addressed Tommy, “Concrete guys gonna be there?”

“Yeah, they said maybe,” Tommy replied as he opened up the fridge.

“‘Maybe?’” Joel echoed, “We can’t frame until we pour. We’re not gettin’ paid until we frame.”

Tommy started sniffing through various leftovers, “Well, we could bring someone else on, get the job done faster.”

“No, no,” Joel shook his head and cut up another bite of eggs, “I’m not splittin’ this job, I barely wanna split it with you. We could work a double.”

Sarah and Y/n both turned to him.

“Literally?” Sarah asked, “Today?”

“Joel, come on,” Y/n agreed, “Not today.”

“I know,” Joel was quick to remedy the moment, “I’d be done by nine,” he called to Tommy, “By nine, right?”

Sarah gazed across the table to Y/n, the two of them sharing a disbelieving look.

“I’ll bring back a cake,” Joel looked between the girls, “I promise.”

Y/n sighed, holding her coffee cup to her chest. Joel had been pulling double shifts more and more recently. She’d been meaning to talk to him about it, how she and Sarah had been missing him, but she was in no position to stop him from working. Money was tight and contract work was never a sure thing.

A news broadcast broke up the top 40 station Sarah had turned the radio on to while cooking. “Continued disturbances in Jakarta…” the voice announced, the clinking of silverware against plates breaking it up, “But are advising U.S. citizens-“

“Jakarta?” Joel repeated, “Where is that? Middle East?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Tommy shook his head, holding a coffee cup, “It’s definitely a country. Or maybe a part of Asia?”

Y/n smiled and tilted her head at Sarah, who was already prepared to answer.

“Jakarta isn’t a country,” she interjected, “Being a part of Asia isn’t mutually exclusive with being a country and in fact, it’s the capital of Indonesia.”

“That’s my girl,” Y/n said proudly.

“Shit,” Tommy grinned, “Hope for us yet.”

Joel took a final sip of his coffee before slapping his hand against his bare wrist, still expecting his broken watch to be there. He, instead, dug into his pocket checked the time on his cell phone.

“All right,” he announced to his daughter, collecting his and Y/n’s plates, “Finish up quick. We’ll drop you off.”

“I’m still eating my eggshells,” Sarah said.

“You got seven minutes,” Joel replied, dumping the dishes in the sink for later.

“Your t-shirt’s inside out.”

Joel looked down, deflated at the trip he now had to make back upstairs, “Shit.”

Sarah waited till he was out of the room and cocked a suspicious eyebrow at Y/n.

“Pop that thing down, missy,” Y/n pointed downwards, “Your dad just pays shockingly little attention for someone who works with power tools.”

Tommy smiled over the wings he’d taken for himself, “He’s losin’ it.”

Y/n laughed and nudged Sarah’s leg, “C’mon, finish up.”

Sarah scooped the last bite of egg into her mouth and handed her plate to Y/n, who brushed past Tommy on her way to the sink. She reversed a few steps to get a whiff of the chicken.

“Found the smell,” she called out to Sarah, patting Tommy’s shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Stomach of steel,” he replied, setting his plate on the edge of the sink and planting a kiss on Y/n’s cheek. The two of them had become as good as siblings.

Y/n climbed up the stairs and down the hall to Joel’s room. He emerged just as she approached, brushing his hand across her hip as they passed one another. As much as they both loved pouring out the fullness of their affection, the casual intimacies were their favorites.

Grabbing her keys and wallet off Joel���s dresser, Y/n peeked out the window and waited till she saw Joel outside with Tommy. “Sarah,” she called down the hall.

Sarah tiptoed her way in, just to be safe, “Good?”

“Yep,” Y/n nodded.

Sarah found the assigned drawer, digging through Joel’s possessions to pull out his broken watch. She’d developed the plan to fix it as a birthday present last month and had gotten Y/n in on it.

“You’ve got the money?” Sarah checked.

Y/n flipped through the bills in her wallet, “Should be enough.”

Sarah thumbed through Joel’s cash and pulled out a few extra, smiling mischievously, “Now we can be sure.”

“Sarah! Y/n!” Joel called from the truck, Tommy was honking the horn.

Slipping the watch into her backpack, Sarah and Y/n quickly left the bedroom and headed down the stairs. Y/n hung back to make sure the coffee pot and stove were off before exiting out the front door. From the porch, she could see Sarah was in conversation with Mr. Adler next door. Or rather, dodging conversation.

“Make ‘em happy,” Joel encouraged, passing Y/n to grab another load of tools.

“I could come by after school, but just for like, a little bit,” Sarah offered.

“She’ll take what you got,” Mr. Adler replied as he fed his elderly mother-in-law, “Y’all can bake or whatever. Speakin’ of,” the man held up a plate, “We got a lotta extra here, y’all want some biscuits?”

“Dad,” Sarah masterfully tossed the ball to Joel, “You love biscuits.”

“I do,” Joel replied cheerily, “But Y/n’s got me on Atkins.”

Y/n snorted, watching the exchange go down from the bed of the truck.

“On what now?” Mr. Adler asked.

“It’s uh-“ Joel stopped himself, “You know, we gotta run but Sarah’ll be by later. She’ll stay as long as you want,” he smiled genuinely to his neighbors and smugly to his daughter, “Tell you all about Atkins.”

“Great, I’ll let Connie know,” Mr. Adler called back as Joel took Y/n’s hand and led her around the truck, “Hey, Y/n, you’re invited too.”

She peeked over the truck’s flatbed, “I’ll be working, but I’ll come grab Sarah on my way home.”

“Thank you,” Sarah smiled at her dad’s girlfriend, glaring at her father himself, “Solid.”

Joel held the door open for them, smirking at Y/n. “Thirty minutes, then you can rescue her,” he instructed.

“I never suggested Atkins,” she replied, sliding into the backseat beside Sarah.

“Can’t tell you how exciting it was listenin’ to that fuckin’ conversation,” Tommy commented, his speech molding around the cigarette between his lips.

“Put that out,” Joel said, a second before Y/n could form the same words.

Tommy flicked the smoke out onto the driveway, “Happy birthday to you.”

The truck pulled out into the cul-de-sac, carrying each of them off to their separate days.

Once Sarah had been dropped off at school and Y/n at the hardware store, Joel and Tommy headed across town to their construction site.

“Y’all got plans for tonight?” Tommy asked as they rode.

“If I don’t bring a cake home, they’re gonna string me up,” Joel answered, “Other than that, nothin’.”

His brother chuckled, “Least they gang up on you together. I got a buddy who just brought his girl home, his kid can’t stand her.”

Joel wasn’t an idiot, he knew how lucky he was that his girlfriend and daughter got along. No, they did better than just get along. They were practically inseparable. He’d take as much shit as they could give him, so long as they did it together.

“When’re you gonna marry that girl?”

It wasn’t the first time Tommy had asked that question. It had been increasing in frequency over the last few months. After they’d passed their one year anniversary, it became a thought consuming more and more space in Joel’s mind. It had taken enough time to sort out his thoughts and fears on the subject of going into marriage again, but it had been something that week that had settled him on the matter.

Monday night, Y/n had dropped by after her shift to help Sarah with homework. Joel had been at work, but when he got home, he expected to see them waiting for him at the kitchen table. Finding only silence, he climbed the stairs and peeked into Sarah’s room. Y/n was sitting against the headboard of Sarah’s bed, the young girl tucked into her shoulder, the math homework spread across their laps.

In the seemingly meaningless display of affection, Joel saw so much more. He saw the rest of his life. He could finally give Sarah a crucial piece of happiness that she’d been deprived of. He could have the love he’d craved and denied himself for so many years. The three of them, a family.

He was going to ask Y/n to marry him that weekend.

“I was gonna head to that place in the mall tomorrow morning,” Joel replied, his fingers rubbing together in anticipation. The last few weeks of working double shifts would pay off if he could find the perfect ring.

“Oh, shit,” Tommy grinned, “You’re actually doin’ it.”

“No reason to wait,” he said, staring ahead as if he could see his bright future.

“Think she’ll say yes?” Tommy asked, practically bleeding from the daggers Joel shot at him. He heartily laughed, “You get Sarah’s blessin’?”

A small smile stretched across Joel’s lips, “I know I already got it. But yeah, I’m gonna show her the ring, ask her officially.”

“Girl’s not gonna say no,” Tommy replied, making a turn onto the street the construction site was on, “She’s as crazy about her as you are.”

Joel couldn’t see any reason why Sarah would reject Y/n, she liked her better than she did Joel half the time. But he’d still never make such a big decision without consulting his daughter.

“You fucker,” Tommy chuckled, smacking Joel’s chest, “Won the damn lottery.”

Joel smiled out the window, he knew it too.

——————

Y/n’s day went by as slow as possible. She kept moving around the hardware store, helping employee and customer alike with anything they needed. All she needed was to stay busy until 3PM when she’d clock out an hour early, pick Sarah up at the house and they’d head downtown to the watch repair shop.

She absentmindedly spinning down one of the aisles, passing Melinda, one of her co-workers.

“Head outta the clouds, kid,” she chuckled.

“I’m on the ground,” Y/n replied, doing another twirl, “I just need this fucking day to end.”

Melinda went back to hanging inventory, “You and Joel got big plans tonight?”

“I was gonna grill us up some steaks,” she shrugged, “Cake. He’ll get squirmy if Sarah and I spoil him too much.”

“I got a question,” Melinda rested her arm on a shelf, “And if it’s too personal, you tell me. I won’t care, but you can tell me.”

Y/n giggled, “Okay.”

“Are you two ever gonna get married?”

Y/n’s movements came to a stop in the middle of the aisle. She’d been thinking more and more about what it might look like to marry Joel. It wasn’t like she was daydreaming about meaningless details like what dress she’d wear or what color roses would serve as centerpieces. She thought about waking up in Joel’s arms every morning, cooking breakfast for Sarah, being there for every moment, big or small. That was what she cared about.

Joel had eventually opened up to her about his ex-wife and what her abandonment had done to both him and Sarah. Y/n knew it was a scar that was as healed as it could be. She would never rush Joel into making a decision about their future, but she’d have been lying if she’d said she didn’t want to eventually wear his ring on her finger.

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly.

“Well, he needs to lock you down,” Melinda pointed towards Y/n with a hammer, “My cousin, came in last week, got one look at you, he’s been asking me for your number all week.”

Y/n laughed, “Ring or no ring, I’m locked down. This is it for me.”

The women turned their attention down the aisle to a man, taking sloppy steps down the aisle. It was barely two in the afternoon, a little early to already be drunk, but Texas took the rules of happy hour very loosely.

Melinda groaned, “Ugh, you want me to take him?”

“No, I got it,” Y/n put on her cheery voice and walked up to the customer, “Can I help you find any-“

The man spun to face her, snarling, and took a swing at Y/n. She jumped back just in time.

“What the f-“

Growling, he charged towards her again, this time using her shock against her and tackling her to the floor. Y/n screamed, shoving her hands against his chest in an effort to push him off of her.

“Fuck!” Melinda yelled, pulling at the guy’s legs, “Help! We need help!”

Y/n stared into the man’s eyes, they were glazed over entirely, filled with pure, animalistic rage. He snarled and bit at the air before wrapping his hand around her neck. She used all her strength to push him away, her breath stuck in her throat. He lunged to burrow his face where his hand lay, Y/n couldn’t get him off her, but she kept him from getting any closer.

The manager, Don, sprinted down the aisle with a few other guys and pulled the attacker off of Y/n. The man fought back, growling and clawing relentlessly at her. One of the employees dropped him on the ground and sat on him, ensuring he didn’t go anywhere.

Y/n scrambled to her feet, Don came to embrace her.

“You okay?”

She was fighting to catch her breath, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I’m callin’ the police,” Melinda announced, rushing off to the phone at the front desk.

“What happened?” Don asked, moving to hold Y/n’s arms.

“I-I don’t know,” she ran a hand through her hair, “He came down the aisle and just lunged at me. I-I just offered to help him.”

With the man still fighting to break out of his hold, making sounds that made him seem possessed, Don pulled Y/n out of the aisle.

“I’m sorry, Don,” Y/n apologized, her voice still trembling.

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he quickly shook his head, “Men gotta learn they can’t go gettin’ rough on a woman just cause they’ve had a bad day.”

The police arrived within ten minutes, running down the aisle and cuffing the monstrous man. Y/n stayed far away from her attacker as he was dragged out of the store, residing between Melinda and Don. She’d been asked if she wanted to press charges, but she declined. She just wanted the whole thing to be over.

“Take off now,” Don offered after the officers left.

“No, I-I’m okay,” Y/n smoothed her apron down with shaking hands.

“Don’t even try,” Don shook his head, “Get on out of here.”

Y/n took the first breath she could actually feel, wasting no time in dashing back to the break room and grabbing her purse out of her locker. She wanted to be as far away from anything about the afternoon as she could. Plus, it would mean she could pick Sarah up straight from school instead of the Adlers.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Y/n bid her co-workers farewell on the way out.

Don rasied a hand alongside Melinda, “See ya tomorrow. Wish Joel a happy birthday from us!”

The mention of his name got a smile out of Y/n, “I will.”

With Joel and Tommy having dropped her off, she had to call a cab to take her back to her apartment. She held in her tears until the front door was locked and she knew she was safe.

Why hadn’t she fought back? Fought harder? She was great with her words, but she’d never been able to physically defend herself. In the world they lived in, it was becoming more and more necessary for a woman to be able to throw a punch. Y/n felt weak for not fighting for her safety with the ferocity that Joel or Tommy would have. It just wasn’t in her nature to be violent, even if her own life was on the line.

She managed to collect herself, drying her tears and heading back down to her car. She was determined to put the incident behind her and not let it ruin her day.

Y/n parked directly outside the front of the school so Sarah couldn’t miss her. She waited against the car door, tapping her heel against the asphalt until a barrage of kids came pouring out of the building. Sarah clocked her just before she headed for the bus.

“I thought you were picking me up at home,” she called across the street.

“My shift ended early,” Y/n explained, excluding the reason why.

Sarah opened the passenger side door and jumped in, “Can we grab ice cream or something after?”

“Nice try,” Y/n started up her car, “I’m dropping you off at the Adler’s after this.”

Sarah let her head fall against her seat, with a small groan.

“Half an hour and then there’ll be some big birthday emergency,” Y/n offered, turning onto the next street over, “Seatbelt.”

It was these small domestic moments that showed just how good of a parent Y/n would make. She still didn’t believe she was doing anything exceptional, but the smallest acts of care meant the most. Making sure Sarah walked on the inside of the street, making sure she’d eaten enough, helping her with homework…all of that equated to Sarah knowing she had someone else looking out for her.

They made it downtown to the jewelry-clock repair shop within minutes. Their part of Austin was small enough that everything was five minutes away.

The owner at the front counter examined Joel’s watch, “Twenty.”

“That’s it?” Sarah asked, surprised.

“Okay,” the man smiled, “Thirty.”

“My little negotiator,” Y/n looked down at Sarah, smirking, “Let’s stick with twenty.”

“It’s a spring,” he explained as Sarah pulled out the twenty she’d taken from Joel, “I’ll do it right now.”

Y/n put an arm around Sarah’s shoulders and tugged her into her side, the two of them absentmindedly hugging as they glanced around the store. Behind them, a line of police cars followed by a fire truck sped down the street. It pulled Y/n back to an hour before.

“All day, I swear,” a woman emerged from the shop’s back room, switching between speaking in English and Arabic, “We’re closing.”

“It’s 3:15,” the owner responded, “We close at 7.”

The woman anxiously stood at the window, staring down the street. She lapsed back into Arabic as she addressed her partner, before putting her hands on Y/n and Sarah’s arms, “I’m very sorry, he cannot finish.”

“I already finished,” the man replied, holding out the boxed watch to his wife.

She pressed the box into Y/n’s hands, “You should go home.”

“W-wait,” Y/n stuttered as the woman rushed them out of the shop, “Wh-“

“Go home,” the woman urged, staring into Y/n’s eyes with a desperation a child could never understand.

She shut the door on Y/n and Sarah, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ after and pulling the blinds.

“That was weird,” Sarah muttered.

“Yeah,” Y/n watched as the woman continued shutting the blinds in the windows.

Successful in their quest, Y/n and Sarah loaded themselves back in the car and headed home. On the way, they passed four more police cars and one more fire engine. Austin had its fair share of crime, especially downtown, but this was out of the ordinary.

“What do you think’s going on?” Sarah asked at one point.

“No idea,” Y/n answered, pulling them into the driveway of Joel’s home and unbuckling, “I’ll check the news. Go be a good person.”

“I’m timing you,” Sarah said firmly.

Y/n smiled, “Go.”

Sarah dragged herself and her backpack out of the car and trudged across the Adler’s lawn. Y/n watched her lovingly, she had the biggest heart of anyone she knew, it was just butting heads with teenage hormones.

Y/n let herself into the Miller’s house, her body relaxing as soon as the door shut. She kicked off her sneakers and headed for the living room, switching on the television. She changed the channel to the local news station, expecting to see a fire or mass shooting. All the anchors said was that there had been reports of heightened violence throughout the day and that citizens should avoid going downtown. That lined up with what Y/n had experienced at the store, apparently the city of Austin was acting like a collective asshole.

Satisfied, Y/n busied herself with laundry and taking care of the dishes from breakfast until she scanned the clock, seeing it was ten past the time she said she’d pick Sarah up at.

She went outside, crossed the shared lawn and knocked on the Adler’s front door. Connie was the one to open it.

“Well, there she is,” the woman exclaimed, “Come in!”

They entered into the hallway, which smelled like cookies and mothballs, and Y/n spotted Sarah sitting in the kitchen, bag packed and a barely concealed frown on her face.

“I’m sendin’ you two home with some cookies,” Connie said, bustling around the kitchen for a Ziploc, “They’re raisin.”

“Oh, yay,” Y/n feigned excitement, following her in and stroking a hand across Sarah’s hair, “Those’re Joel’s favorite.”

Sarah fought the laugh caught in her throat, Joel would’ve rather died than touch anything with raisins in it.

Connie handed Y/n the bag and took her other hand, “You tell him happy birthday from us.”

“We will,” Y/n smiled before they headed down the hall and to the door.

“Wait,” Sarah mumbled just as they were walking out. She stopped to see Mercy, the Adler’s dog, whining at Nana Adler, seated in her chair as usual.

“Dogs are super tuned into their owners,” Y/n explained, “Some studies suggest that they can sense if their person’s in pain.”

Sarah hummed and accepted the answer, exiting out the front door with Y/n. “You were late,” she stated.

“I was doing your laundry,” Y/n replied, dipping her hand along Sarah’s through a lawn sprinkler, “So I’d say we’re even.”

The sun was just setting, a warm pink taking over the sky as night’s opening act. Kids, home from school, were playfully screaming a few houses down. Everything felt perfectly in place.

An overhead thundering encroached on the peaceful scene, drawing Sarah and Y/n’s attention skyward. Three fighter jets in formation blew over their heads, flying in the general direction of downtown.

“Air Force base isn’t too far from here,” Y/n commented, it was the only explanation that made sense.

Sarah didn’t seem too concerned, cutting ahead across the lawn and up to the front porch.

Inside, Y/n busied herself with cooking dinner while Sarah sat at the table finishing up homework. The steaks she’d bought a few days prior had gone bad, and she was searching the fridge for anything she could turn into something special.

Pressing her forehead to the appliance’s cool steel, she admitted defeat.

“You know Dad’s not picky,” Sarah tried to comfort her.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to do something nice for him,” Y/n replied, kicking her foot lightly against the fridge, “But I suppose ordering Chinese is just as special.”

“We could always run by the store,” Sarah suggested.

“Mm-mm,” Y/n shook her head, digging through the takeout menu drawer, “No one’s going anywhere while there’s all those cops on the road.”

They ended up ordering enough for themselves, Joel and Tommy, if he decided to stay for dinner. As the night went on, the food grew cold, and by eight o’clock, Y/n and Sarah grew too hungry to wait and sat on the couch with their cartons.

“If he’s home by nine,” Sarah thought the next part of her sentence over carefully, “I’ll give you a whole week off of helping me with my homework.”

“Doesn’t feel like much of a win,” Y/n shrugged, picking at another piece of orange chicken. They were coming up with bets for when they thought Joel would actually return home, “I don’t mind being on homework duty.”

“Okay, fine, um…” Sarah continued drafting, snapping her chopsticks together, “I’ll do the dishes for a week. Every load.”

Y/n waved a chopstick at the girl, “Done. But if he’s home past nine, I will…get him to learn one of the Halican Drops’ songs,” she tilted her head, “That’s a win for you and will definitely cost me.”

Sarah laughed, “Deal.”

They spent the evening talking and watching tv, the later hours eventually tiring them. Sarah leaned up against Y/n, lost in a magazine while Y/n read a book she’d left on the coffee table. The television played lightly in the background, though they’d stopped paying attention long ago.

Eventually, five after ten, a pair of keys jingled in the front door lock, signaling Sarah had won the bet.

“You locked the door this time,” Joel said, addressing his daughter, “Good job.”

“Yeah,” Sarah switched off the tv and sat up, “Y/n reminded me.”

Y/n scooted over to give Joel a spot on the couch, he flopped down on the cushions, digging his palms into his eyes.

“It’s 10,” Sarah said what they were all thinking.

“I know,” Joel groaned, pulling back up to take off his boots, “They…gave us the wrong size for the headers,” he looked over his girlfriend to Sarah, “That doesn’t mean anything to you, barely means anything to Y/n. I’m sorry.”

Y/n’s fingers walked across Joel’s leg, “And dessert would be…?”

Joel slumped forward, “Shit.”

“Come on, man,” Sarah bemoaned.

“I’ll get us one tomorrow,” Joel promised for the second time that day.

“Swear,” Sarah replied, “Or you don’t get your present.”

Joel turned, brightening up adorably fast. “You got me a present?”

“Swear,” Sarah continued.

Y/n smiled, eyeing her boyfriend with the same loving frustration as Sarah.

“On my life,” Joel swore.

Deeming it an acceptable answer, Sarah rotated and dug behind a pillow. Joel slid his hand over Y/n’s, flattening it down against his knee.

Sarah presented the box, holding it out to her dad.

“Wow,” Joel said, making a theatrical face before opening it. He hadn’t expected what was inside.

“Fixed it for you,” Sarah beamed with reserved pride.

Joel ran a thumb over the watch and held it to his ear, furrowing his brows, “Did you?”

“What?” Sarah reached for his hand.

“I don’t hear anything,” Joel continued.

“It was working four hours ago,” Y/n exclaimed, adjusting herself to sit up and examine it for herself.

The two girls barely had to raise it to their ears before they could hear the strong ticking. Sarah groaned and lightly shoved Joel, who was heartily laughing.

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Screw you, man.”

“That was lame,” Sarah smiled, “You’re lame.”

“Yeah, I know,” Joel chuckled, taking another second to admire his gift, “Where’d you get the money for this?”

“Drugs,” Sarah answered, “I sell hardcore drugs.”

“It’s better than what I do,” Joel slipped the watch onto his wrist.

“It was only $20, which I stole from you.”

“Which I had,” Y/n interjected, “If you’d have given me two seconds...”

“I could have stolen $60, but I put the change back,” Sarah defended herself against Joel’s parental stare, “Because I’m an honest thief. Besides, it’s the thought that counts. And you were never gonna do it for yourself, so…”

Joel, never one to be selfish, looked on lovingly at his daughter and co-conspirator, before turning his head downward. “Thank you.”

Sarah smiled, looking to Y/n victoriously. “Oh, there’s one more,” she dug behind the pillow once again and retrieved a DVD case, “Borrowed it from the Adlers.”

Joel wasted no time in taking it from her, it was Curtis and Viper, the guiltiest of all guilty pleasure movies. “Oh, this is the one with the deleted scenes.”

“Yeah, imagine how bad those have to be,” Sarah commented, “Come on, pop it in, while it’s still your birthday.”

Y/n got up alongside Joel, “I’ll go heat up dinner and brace myself for the cinematic masterpiece I’m about to experience.”

“I showed it to you a while back,” Joel called out to her, “Remember?”

“I remember,” Y/n swung into the kitchen, “And yet I’m still with you.”

Joel smirked to himself, setting the disc in the tray and jogging off to join Y/n. “Chinese?”

“There was going to be something home cooked,” Y/n scooped some food onto a plate for Joel, “But the grocery gods were conspiring against me.”

“Kidding? This is great,” Joel replied, coming to hold Y/n’s hips and move around the kitchen with her. He settled his chin against her head, “Thank you. For all of it.”

Y/n leaned back into Joel’s chest, “I don’t see how crappy Chinese food and aiding your daughter in thievery deserves thanks but,” she twisted her neck to plant a kiss on his cheek, “I’ll take it.”

Joel absentmindedly ran his hands up Y/n’s arms, gazing down at her skin. His eyes drifted to her exposed neck, the glow of the microwave illuminating a purple splotch across her throat.

“What’s this?”

Y/n was watching the timer, “Hm?”

Joel pulled back the rest of her hair and lightly ran a finger over the skin, “Where’d you get this?”

Y/n pulled away, confusedly grabbing a spatchula out of a drawer and relfecting it back on her. Sure enough, there was a large purple bruise developing where the psycho in the hardware store had choked her.

“Hm,” Y/n thought, she hadn’t intended to ruin the levity of the night, “Uh, are we sure you didn’t put that there?”

Joel bristled at the idea, even at his most passionate, he wasn’t rough like that, “I’d never do this to you.”

Y/n sighed, pressing the ‘stop’ button on the microwave before it could beep. She pulled Joel’s food out, set it down and leaned up against the counter.

“A guy attacked me today at work,” she said softly, not wanting Sarah to hear.

Joel’s eyebrows raised two inches, his voice got low, “What?”

“He came down the aisle and just,” Y/n gestured suddenly to herself, “Tackled me to the ground. It took three of the guys, plus Don just to get him off of me.”

Joel surged forward, hovering his hand over Y/n’s neck and examining her, “How bad is it?”

“I’m okay,” Y/n gently took Joel’s hand, bringing it down to his side, “Headache from smacking my head on the floor, little sore, but fine.”

“Please tell me you called the police and pressed charges” Joel asked, fully in protector mode.

Y/n shook her head, “I didn’t wanna drag it out, I just wanted the whole thing to be over. The cops took him, they can deal with it.”

Joel braced himself against the counter to Y/n’s side, halfway-caging her in. “And you weren’t gonna tell me about it?”

“It’s your birthday,” Y/n smiled softly up at her boyfriend, “I just wanted to come home and have a normal evening with you guys. Forget it ever happened.”

Anger swelled in Joel’s stomach for whatever freak had gone after her, but his gaze stayed soft. Her pain was his pain.

“Wanna know what the worst part was?” Y/n asked, looping a finger through Joel’s and smiling sadly, “I could have fought back…but I just laid there. I tried to push him off but…”

There was no need for her to finish the sentence. Joel’s mind flashed back to the night they’d met, when that creep had laid his hand on her and she hadn’t fought back. It was one of his deepest worries, that one day someone would come at her and he wouldn’t be there to protect her.

“Can you please,” he begged, “Enroll in a self-defense class?”

“Yes,” Y/n agreed, saying whatever she could to get the night to return to normal, “I think there’s one down at the community center.”

Joel’s shoulders rose and fell with his sigh, cupping the back of her neck and drawing her into his body. She wrapped her arms around his middle, digging her face into his pec.

“I hate the world sometimes,” Joel said over her shoulder.

Y/n scoffed, “You and me both, bucko.”

They stood in each other’s arms a moment, letting the stress of the day melt away.

“Your daughter’s waiting,” Y/n smiled into Joel’s chest, “And she’s been waiting all night.”

Joel broke from her, stroking a thumb over her cheek. He was looking forward to revealing the reason for his late night hours.

With dinner in hand, Joel and Y/n headed back into the living room, where Sarah was waiting with the remote. Joel settled down in the middle of the couch, giving him room to be surrounded by his two favorite people.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he warned, as Sarah snuggled into his shoulder.

“‘Course I won’t,” she said, “It’s too riveting.”

“I make no such promises,” Y/n replied, hanging one of her legs on Joel’s knee.

Both of them were out cold within an hour.

Joel couldn’t complain even if he tried. With Sarah passed out on his leg Y/n tucked under his arm, it was the happiest he’d been the whole day.

While watching the movie, Joel’s mind kept spinning around proposal ideas. If he got the ring in the morning, he could do it that night. Or did he need to spend more time, crafting some elaborate idea involving doves and roses and all the movie shit? Y/n wasn’t fancy, she probably wouldn’t care if that was missing. All he cared about was that she said ‘yes’ and that the ring was something she could cherish the rest of their lives.

Joel gazed down at his daughter and soon-to-be fiancé, fast asleep on him. A lifetime of that was a thought he could get used to…

The vibration of his cell phone broke Joel out of his daydream. He reached forward, trying not to wake either girl, bur Y/n stirred enough to come to.

“Sorry,” he whispered, picking up the call, “Hello?”

“Joel, it’s me,” Tommy’s voice cut through, Y/n’s head was close enough to hear the call, “Uh, I’m okay.”

“Yeah?” Joel asked.

“But I’m in jail.”

Y/n sat up groggily as Joel arched back into the couch, rubbing his eyes in stress.

“Wasn’t my fault this time,” Tommy was quick to defend himself, “I was at the bar, some guy goes crazy, starts swingin’ at waitresses, I stepped in, knocked him out, cops showed up-”

Joel and Y/n shared an exhausted look, both from true tiredness and Tommy.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Tommy hurried, “You gotta bail me out.”

“Now?” Joel hissed.

“It’s Friday,” Tommy said, “You don’t get me out, I’m in here all weekend. It’s a fuckin’ madhouse, Joel. I gotta get out.”

Y/n rubbed the sleep out of her eye, and lowered her voice, “I’ll go get him.”

Joel’s hand shot out across Y/n’s legs, “No,” he switched conversations, “Well, which jail. Travis County?”

“Yeah, on 10th,” his little brother answered.

“Damn it, Tommy,” Joel shook his head.

Tommy took a breath, “I’m sorry…please.”

Joel waited before answering, “Okay,” he hung up his cell, “Fuckin’ idiot.”

“Joel, just let me go,” Y/n offered, gesturing to Sarah using his leg as a pillow, “You got him last time.”

“I don’t want you out this late,” Joel shot down the idea a second time, “Especially in that part of town. I’ll be back, hour tops.”

Carefully, Joel eased Sarah off of him and lifted her into his arms. He carried her upstairs to bed while Y/n stayed on the couch, trying to get her bearings.

Joel came back downstairs, grumbling to himself as he collected his wallet and keys.

“We do all this,” Y/n gestured to the empty dinner plate and gift box, “And Tommy’s still gotta one up us.”

“Yeah, well,” Joel muttered, throwing his cell phone in his pocket, “I shoulda just left him in there.”

Y/n looked up amusedly at her boyfriend, “Yeah, like you’d ever do that.”

Joel’s instinct was to protect, he couldn’t have left his brother to rot for the weekend if he tried.

Y/n got to her feet and slid a hand up Joel’s chest, bringing his restlessness to a halt. She wrapped her other hand around the base of his neck, rubbing at the permanently tense muscles.

“Happy Birthday to you,” she sleepily smiled.

Joel leaned forward to connect his lips to Y/n’s. In an ideal world, he’d carry her upstairs and they’d fall asleep in each other’s arms. But after rescuing Tommy, they’d have the whole weekend for that. Still, he poured as much love as he could into his kiss.

Neither of them knew it would be the last one they shared.

“Be safe,” Y/n told him once they broke apart.

“I will,” Joel replied, heading for the front door, “Go to bed. Be back soon.”

Y/n nodded, her eyes following him till he was out of the house. In her stupor, she wasn’t thinking of how packed the streets had been earlier in the day with cop cars. Or how the news had said there’d been increased violence in the city. Or how the story Tommy had recounted sounded eerily similar to hers. She was just tired enough that all that made sense to her was climbing into Joel’s bed and going back to sleep.

Slowly climbing the staircase, Y/n made her way down the hall. She paused outside of Sarah’s room, poking her head in to make sure she was settled. Joel had thrown a blanket over her and she was rolling over. Satisfied, Y/n pushed off of the door frame to leave.

“Mom?”

She froze in her tracks, she’d barely moved out of sight before Sarah had called for…someone. Not her. It couldn’t be her. But who else? She had no memory of her birth mo-

“Mom?”

Y/n’s chest fluttered, it could only be her. She hesitated to answer, “Yeah?”

“Where’s Dad?” Sarah asked, her eyes were still scrunched but she was looking to Y/n’s silhouette.

“He had to run by Uncle Tommy’s,” Y/n answered, saving the full answer for the morning, “He’ll be back soon.”

Sarah seemed to accept the response, nodding a little and settling back into her pillow.

“Goodnight,” Y/n wished, her hands awkwardly fidgeting against her chest.

“Night,” Sarah mumbled.

Slipping against the nearest wall, Y/n’s breath trembled with joy, shock…she couldn’t tell. Sarah had made up her mind as to what Y/n was to her…and what she was was a mother.

Feeling like she was floating, Y/n made her way down the hall to the bed that was as good as her own and slid underneath the sheets. Her smile stretched so wide, she thought her cheeks might split. She couldn’t wait to tell Joel when he got home….

—————————

First came the sirens.

Then came the choppers.

Then the car alarms.

And the flares.

Y/n was the first to wake, the sound of helicopter blades and the sensation of the house rattling waking her. She reached over in the dark for Joel and grasped air. The clock read 2:15AM, he’d left at 11.

That was enough to wake Y/n the rest of the way up.

She rolled out of bed and went to the window, peeking through the blinds to see flares being shot into the sky. Though her vision was blurred from sleep, she could see the smoke cloud in the distance. It was coming from downtown.

“Dad?” Sarah called down the hall, “Y/n?”

“In here,” Y/n said, still watching the sky as another round of helicopters flew over their neighborhood.

Sarah came through the door, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n answered, her stomach twisting in confusion, “Go check if your dad’s downstairs.”

Sarah left, calling for Joel as she descended the staircase. “He’s not here,” she yelled up.

Y/n’s chest sank, anxiety beginning to creep its way up her throat. Was this some kind of invasion? It had barely been two years since 9/11, was something of that scale happening in their backyard?

“Y/n!”

The urgency in Sarah’s voice got Y/n moving out the bedroom and down the stairs as quick as she could. “What is it?”

Sarah had switched on the tv, the emergency broadcast signal was on every channel, delivering an ominous message to stay indoors and wait for law enforcement.

A thud against the window had Y/n pulling Sarah to her chest, the girl wrapping her hands around Y/n’s wrists. Mercy, the Adler’s dog, had his paws against the window and was trying to get inside.

“Stay here,” Y/n told Sarah, heading to unlock the front door. She crouched down on the porch and the dog leaned against her legs, whining. “Shh, Mercy, shh…”

“Is he okay?” Sarah asked, right behind Y/n.

“I think,” Y/n answered, clueless as Mercy panted furiously under her touch. She looked across the street, finding nothing out of the ordinary visually. Audibly, there were car alarms coming from all directions and the chopper was making another circle around the subdivision. Something felt very, very wrong.

“Stay here,” Y/n told Sarah, “I’m gonna take a look around.”

“No, I’m coming with-“

“No,” Y/n’s tone firmed up, “Take Mercy inside and stay-“

Mercy started barking as if he knew he was being discussed. Y/n knew nothing she said would get Sarah to listen, she was out of options.

“Let’s get him back home,” she said.

Sarah led Mercy by the collar across the lawn and onto the Adler’s driveway. Once he realized he was back at his house, Mercy began to whine and pull away from Sarah.

“C’mon, Mercy, please,” Sarah begged.

Mercy pulled one final time, the collar unclipping and letting him loose. He took off into the night.

“Mercy!” Sarah called, he was too far gone to hear her.

“It’s okay,” Y/n quickly tried to smooth Sarah’s heartbreak over, “We’ll find him. But first, we’re going home and-“

Clanking from inside the Adler’s home drew their attention.

“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah called, receiving no answer, she looked to Y/n to decide their next move.

Y/n was torn between following the noise and running back home to call Joel.

“Stay behind me,” she decided, placing herself in front of Sarah as a barricade.

They crept up the Adler’s porch, letting themselves in through the ajar door. The carpet runner was scrunched up, something the meticulous Connie would have never allowed.

“Connie?” Y/n announced their presence.

“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah repeated, the two of them frozen in the hallway.

Another loud sound from the kitchen, followed by a distant gunshot and chased by a car alarm.

Y/n tried to inhale steadily, but the trembling came anyway. The long stretches of silence broken up by what sounded like war were creating a steady pit of fear in her chest.

She reached backwards, pulling Sarah closer to her body. The girl was already holding onto Y/n’s hips. They took soft steps through the hall and to the kitchen.

“Con-“ Y/n held on to the room divider as she stumbled, looking down to see the slippery substance across the floor.

Blood.

Sarah and Y/n’s breaths caught in their chests as their eyes followed the trail of crimson through the kitchen…to Mr. Adler, laid against the cabinets.

“Help me,” he whispered, a particularly gory wound to his neck oozing blood down his body.

Y/n moved to help him but was yanked back by Sarah, who already had eyes on the next terror.

Nana Adler was hung over her daughter, her face burrowed into her neck.

Y/n eased Sarah back, making no sudden movements, as the elderly woman slowly looked up to them. There were strands of something springing from her mouth, it was something out of a horror movie.

Nana rose to her feet, her movements choppy and careless, and Sarah wrapped her arms around Y/n’s torso.

The woman, animalistic, shrieked and ran towards them.

Y/n shoved Sarah back towards the door, racing out of the house and onto the lawn. She was pulling the girl toward their house when the roar of a pickup truck came barreling down the street.

Tommy’s truck.

Tommy pulled the truck up onto the curb, Joel jumped out before it had even stopped.

“GET IN THE TRUCK,” he yelled at Y/n and Sarah, “RIGHT NOW!”

With Sarah in her hands, Joel grabbed Y/n and pulled them to the vehicle, “Move!”

Nana Adler came screaming out of the house, Y/n and the Millers watching the bones in her body violently crack under her skin before she fell to the ground. They waited in anticipation until she startled back to life with a gasp, stumbling to her feet and charging towards the family.

“What are we doin’, Joel?” Tommy yelled, his rifle pointed at the grandmother.

Y/n wrapped Sarah in her arms, shielding her body from any harm, but not her eyes.

Joel wasted no time in making the decision, it was either her, or the women he loved. He slashed the wrench he was clutching into Nana’s head, the life leaving her as she dropped.

After, he turned to Y/n and Sarah, their tearful eyes widened in horror. He rushed to them, bending to cup Sarah’s cheek.

“You killed her,” the girl said, unable to form a deeper thought.

Joel pulled his daughter and partner into his arms, “Baby, I’m sorry.”

“Joel, we gotta go,” Tommy warned.

“Joel,” Y/n shook, “What’s going on?”

“Listen to me,” he looked to both his girls, “It’s not just the Adlers,” he took Sarah’s cheeks into his hands, “But we’re gonna be brave, and we’re gonna get out of this.”

A flash of green to their left and Joel was covering them with his arms. The transformer at the end of the block had exploded.

“Hey,” Tommy rounded the truck, “Let’s go. C’mon!”

Joel and Y/n hurried Sarah in front of them, “Get in.”

Y/n stopped before joining her, gripping Joel’s arm, “Joel…”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, posessing no more answers than she did, “I don’t know.”

Y/n dove into the truck, pulling Sarah into her arms the minute she was seated.

Joel slammed the door shut, his neighbor calling his name out in concern.

“Denise, you get back inside the house,” he yelled, “You lock your doors! Now!”

“C’mon, c’mon, get in,” Tommy urged.

The second Joel’s door shut, Tommy was already pulling them around the cul-de-sac. As he rounded the turn, Mr. and Mrs. Adler came across their lawn and into the street, in the same possessed state as Nana had been.

“Get your seatbelt on,” Joel told Tommy.

“Hold on,” his brother said, accelerating the engine and ramming into the Adlers head on.

Y/n tried to pull Sarah’s head into her shoulder, but the girl was too quick, already looking out the back to see Mrs. Adler on her feet.

“You take 70-“ Joel began to give directions.

“71,” Tommy finished, “I know.”

A line of police cars blew down the opposite lane, speeding towards more chaos they didn’t even understand.

Sarah’s breath had steadied enough where she could speak clearly, “Daddy-“

“We don’t know,” Joel cut her off.

“They’re saying it’s a virus,” Tommy explained, “Some kinda parasite.”

“What parasite does that?” Y/n asked, knowing none of them had an answer.

“Is it from terrorists?” Sarah asked, her voice getting watery.

“We don’t know,” Joel repeated himself, watching his brother as he drove.

“A-are we sick?” Sarah’s panic was growing.

“No, we’re not sick,” Y/n answered immediately.

Joel fiddled with the radio, getting static back in return.

“Why did things blow up?” Sarah asked.

“No cellphone, no radio,” Tommy mused, “Minute ago, newsman wouldn’t shut up.”

“They were broadcasting emergency signals on the tv,” Y/n recalled, as if it made any difference now.

“How do you know?” Sarah kept up her questioning.

“What?” Joel acknowledged her.

Sarah couldn’t hide her tears any more, “How do you know we’re not sick?”

Y/n stroked her hair, offering what little comfort she could while also sharing Sarah’s terror.

“They’re sayin’ it’s mostly people in the city,” Tommy explained, “That’s why they got the highway blocked off.”

Joel craned his head to meet Y/n’s eyes, “This what happened at the store today?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, flashing back to 12 hours before. Her attacker hadn’t had the strange strands hanging from his mouth, but he’d had the same animal-like rage.

The car fell silent again as they passed a house, the whole structure consumed by flames.

“It’s Jimmy’s place,” Tommy said as they drove by.

“The Adlers would take Nana into the city,” Sarah continued to try and solve the puzzle, “To the hospital for stuff.”

“That’s right,” Joel agreed, “They would. That’s probably why.”

“But…” Sarah’s brain worked double time, “You’d have to go a lot…right?”

Tommy shook his head slightly, “We’re fine, trust me.”

Through the dashboard mirror, Y/n’s worried eyes met Tommy’s. He was saying a prayer rather than stating a promise.

On the side of the road, a car was pulled over, a family standing outside it waving their hands wildly. “Here! Right here!”

Tommy began to slow down, drawing Joel’s confusion. “What’re you doin’?”

“They got a kid, Joel,” Tommy gestured to the family.

“So do we,” Joel said firmly, “Keep drivin’.”

The father panicked as Tommy followed orders, screaming for them to stop.

“We could put them in the back,” Sarah offered just as they passed them by.

Y/n’s heart sank as the father’s cries echoed in her ears, her eyes drifting to the back of Joel’s head.

“Somebody else’ll come along,” he said to the car, but mostly to himself.

Sarah, trying so hard to remain calm, let her tears fall silently. Whatever shred of reality they could make of the chaos around them was starting to sink in on Y/n too. She pulled Sarah deeper into her arms, feeling the girl’s sadness land on her skin.

Tommy sped down the lane, trying to get on the freeway, and meeting the sea of likeminded cars.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed, “Everyone had the same fuckin’ idea.

Panicked drivers were speeding towards them, the little white lines on the asphalt ceasing to matter.

“I can’t get through this,” Tommy said, dodging the cars.

“All right, all right,” Joel tried to remain calm, “Let’s think it through, we’ll think it through.”

“Tommy!” Y/n cried as another reckless driver nearly clipped them.

“All right, take the field,” Joel directed, “We’ll cut across and pick up on the-the west side.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tommy’s breath shook, “West, west, all right. All right, hang on.”

Sarah held onto Y/n a little tighter, bracing herself as Tommy went off road into the tall grass. The truck dipped and bounced with the land, until they met smooth dirt…giving them a view of the freeway. The military had already set up shop.

“Shit,” Tommy exclaimed, “Fuckin’ army!”

“Isn’t that good?” Sarah asked

“It’s good for them” Tommy said, “But that’s the highway we’re tryin’ to get to.”

Joel’s brain was spinning with roads, “All right, keep movin’. Head north.”

“Could be a lot of people,” Tommy pointed out.

“Well, we can’t go south, we can’t go east, we can’t go west,” Joel replied, “Hell else we supposed to go?”

Tommy hesitated, his hands nervously gripping the wheel.

“Tommy, come on,” Joel yelled, his own anxiety beginning to show itself.

Listening, Tommy turned the truck north, leading them towards the distant light of a small town.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that place,” Joel said, “This can work.”

“Joel,” Y/n spoke up, “What then? Where are we going?”

He didn’t know, he barely could remember the numbers of the highways. All he knew was he needed to get his family to some sort of safety. “I don’t know, Mexico,” he blurted out, “Just far, far as we can,” he looked to his brother, “How much gas?”

“Three quarter tank,” Tommy answered, it was enough to make it to the border.

“Go through town,” Joel began to list off directions, “Golf course by the river, straight across, we pick up the highway on the other side of the blockade…” he exhaled, “Then we’re out.”

“Maybe it’s everywhere,” Sarah theorized, trying so desperately to make sense of what was happening, “Maybe there’s nowhere to go.”

Joel and Yn’s worried eyes met in the dashboard mirror, they were both wondering the same thing. Illnesses didn’t stay quarantined to just one city in one state, they spread like vines, reaching for any life they could. What if this parasite worked the same way?

A loud roar began to encroach on the truck from above.

“What the fuck?” Tommy exclaimed.

Sarah and Y/n shielded their ears from the noise, looking up through the roof’s glass top to catch a low-flying plane directly above them. There were a line of three more trailing the sky behind them.

“Shit,” Y/n whispered, her facade for Sarah was fading.

Down the road, the red white and blue lights of a police car became a stumbling block. “Son of a bitch,” Tommy complained, “Gotta go around. Grab somethin’!”

Joel reached an arm back, both to brace himself against Tommy’s seat and give Y/n something to hold onto. Sarah held fast to Y/n as Tommy made a hard right down the next street. The town they’d turned into had descended fully into chaos, its residents running wildly through the streets, either screaming for help or attacking one other.

“All right,” Joel talked his brother through the roads, “Keep goin’, keep goin’,” he looked to his left to see a truck barreling towards them, “Shit, Tommy!”

The tire screech had Y/n flipping Sarah’s body over hers, making herself a human shield. Thankfully, the crash never came.

The next street Tommy turned them down was even worse. People were beating each other senselessly in the street, the screams of the wounded piercing their ears.

“Tommy, you can’t stop here,” Joel said as his brother slowed the car.

He gestured to the crowds, “I can’t drive through ‘em.”

“Are you serious?” Joel yelled, “Just keep goin’!”

Up ahead, an explosion shattered the windows of a building, eliciting every person inside to run for their lives, all headed towards the truck.

“Go, go, go,” Joel urged, smacking the dashboard a little harder with each utterance, “Back, back, back, back, back, back, back!”

“I’m tryin’!” Tommy yelled back.

Y/n caught the faces of people as they ran past, the terror, the confusion in their eyes. One woman had blood streaming down her chest, the deep red turning her white blouse deathly crimson.

“Tommy, go faster,” Joel berated, “We gotta go!”

“I’m tryin’, there’s nowhere to fuckin’ go,” Tommy said, maneuvering them backwards.

“Tommy,” Y/n couldn’t stay quiet, “Fuck, anywhere!”

“Find an alley!” Joel added.

“What alley?! There’s people everywhere!”

“Roll the fuck over them,” Joel ordered, “We gotta get off this street.”

Sarah had shifted out of Y/n’s arms and was staring out the back, watching as the humanity was sucked out of her city. In the sky, she could spot bright, blinking lights headed straight for them.

She blindly reached for Y/n’s hand, “Dad?!”

Y/n and Joel both turned, their eyes falling on the same sight. One of the planes was headed straight towards them.

“Fuck,” Y/n uttered breathlessly.

“Move…” Joel managed to say, “Move!”

The plane completed its nosedive into the road behind them, exploding in a fiery inferno. Joel reached back to grab hold of Sarah, Y/n shoved her down into her lap.

None of them saw the piece of debris heading for the truck.

—————————

Joel was the first one to wake up. He struggled out of his seatbelt, dropping to the roof of the flipped truck and looking into the back.

Y/n and Sarah were out cold.

Sarah’s leg was elevated, her foot caught in some part of the truck. Y/n lay in a terrifyingly still ball.

“Sarah…Sarah…” Joel weakly called, tugging on her free leg and startling her awake, “Stay right there. Don’t move,” he looked to Y/n, “Y/n, wake up.”

No response.

“Rosebud,” Joel urged, his voice betraying him and turning to a whine, “Honey, get up.”

“Y/n,” Sarah disobeyed her father, fear-stricken, and stretched her arm out to shake Y/n.

Y/n gasped, waking up the same way she’d passed out; panicked.

“Joel,” she cried out, “Sarah?”

“We’re here,” Joel reassured her, a hand to her arm, “We’re here. Tommy? You okay?”

Tommy grunted, trying to free himself, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

With a pounding headache, and the feeling of air hitting small cuts across her face, Y/n struggled to her knees. Nothing felt broken inside her, just weak.

Sarah’s breathing began to pick up, turning her body to stare out the busted window. Twenty feet away, someone was heaving over a body, draining it of blood the same way Nana Adler had.

“Sarah,” Joel moved to the back of the truck, “Don’t look. You look at me or Y/n, okay?”

Y/n was at Joel’s side instantly, gently holding Sarah’s calf so he could free her leg. The girl winced as Joel worked.

“I’m sorry, baby, I know, I know,” he apologized profusely, letting her leg drop into Y/n’s hands.

“Come here,” he urged his daughter, “Put your arms around me. Come here, come here,” he pulled Sarah into his embrace, “I got you.”

Y/n was crawling past, into the driver’s half of the truck, “Tommy?”

Tommy was already out, kneeling down at the window, “Come on, take my hand!”

Straining to reach him, Y/n slapped her palms against his and he dragged her out. She could feel the glass scrape against her skin, trying to hold her cries in for Sarah’s sake.

Tommy and Y/n pulled each other to their feet, Tommy reaching for his rifle after. Joel and Sarah had made it out on the other side. Y/n rushed around the wreckage of the truck to reach them, grabbing them both, “What’s wrong?”

“My ankle,” Sarah strained.

“We gotta get off the street,” Tommy urged, a fast approaching siren sending him diving for the asphalt, “Shit!”

A police van slammed into their truck, creating a fire between the two vehicles. Joel and Y/n shielded Sarah from the flames, “Tommy?”

Y/n wrapped her arms around Sarah, trying to take some of the weight off her ankle and freeing Joel.

“Tommy!” Joel screamed again.

Separated by the two totaled bodies, the brothers found each other.

“Head to the river,” Tommy shouted, “I’ll find a way!”

Joel hesitated to leave his brother behind, regardless of his competency.

“Get ‘em out of here,” Tommy insisted, “Go, Joel!”

It was the mention of Y/n and Sarah that snapped him back, he immediately turned and bent down to Sarah’s eye level.

“We can’t leave him,” she argued.

“Joel-“ Y/n began.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, “Can you both run?”

“No,” Sarah said as Y/n nodded.

Joel bent over and swung his daughter into his arms.

“You keep your eyes on us,” Joel half demanded, half begged Sarah, “Okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed.

“And don’t look anywhere else,” he finished, his panicked gaze moving to Y/n, “Don’t let go.”

Y/n locked one arm around Joel’s shoulders, the other under Sarah’s legs, needing one hand on them both.

The three of them rushed through the street, lost as to how to get to the river. Joel stopped in fear when they found a grouping of bodies, groaning, writhing, devouring one another on the ground. He guided Sarah’s head back into his body, but she’d already seen too much.

One of the monsters popped up, eerily fast.

Y/n and Joel’s hearts collectively stopped, anxiety kick starting them to run for the back door of a building. They dove inside, Y/n running ahead to bang on the locked door.

“Move,” Joel cried, kicking down the wood and pulling them through it, “Get ahead!”

Y/n jumped in front of them, racing down the length of the diner. She could hear the frantic footsteps and growls of the monster chasing them.

Slamming her body into the second door, Y/n cleared the path for Joel, the two of them sprinting away from the encroaching death nipping at their heels. The monster snarled as it came after them, too quick for Y/n or Joel even at their fastest-

BANG!

A shotgun fire silenced the animalistic sounds, Joel spun around to see the creature laid out in the grass, blood spilling from its head.

“It’s okay, baby,” he assured Sarah, “You’re safe.”

Y/n’s hands dropped to Joel’s arm, resting her head against his shoulder in an effort to catch her breath.

“C’mon,” Joel urged, turning around for the way of the river.

A searchlight hit them.

“Don’t move,” a stern voice commanded, through the light, Y/n and Joel could make out it was a soldier.

“My daughter’s hurt,” Joel explained, “Her ankle.”

“Stop right there,” the soldier ordered, they’d barely moved in his direction.

Y/n and Sarah both trembled, in shock at the sight of the rifle pointed at them.

“Okay,” Joel backed down, taking them the slightest step back, “Easy now. We’re not sick!”

The soldier reached for his radio, reporting into it, “I got three civilians by the river, one of ‘em injured,” he waited for a response, “Ankle.”

“What about Uncle Tommy?” Sarah looked up to Joel.

“We’re gonna get you somewhere safe first,” Joel panted, “Then we’ll go back for him, okay?”

“Okay,” Sarah accepted.

Y/n rubbed a hand over Sarah’s uninjured leg. The horror still had yet to be named, but they were so close to asylum from it.

An impatient Joel took a step forward, earning another up and close look at the rifle’s barrel.

“Hey,” the soldier shouted, “No one told you to move.”

Y/n trembled against Joel’s arm as they waited, why was it taking so long?

“Yes sir,” the soldier said into his radio, his voice having shifted and making Y/n and Joel’s stomachs tighten.

The gun came back up.

“We’re not sick,” Joel echoed, knowing what was about to happen.

“W-w-wait,” Y/n’s lips began to shake, she held out a hand to the soldier, “We’re not sick.”

“Sir,” Joel urged again, his voice rising with every second of silence, “We are not sic-“

Bullets rained down on the three of them, the force of the lead sending them rolling down the hill.

Joel pushed himself off his stomach, a harsh light on him drawing him onto his back. The soldier was mere inches from him, his rifle trained on Joel’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, he almost sounded genuine.

“Please don’t,” Joel begged, raising his hands.

Y/n had rolled farther than Joel, already weak from the crash and now with a pain radiating in her side. One of the bullets had definitely grazed her. She was able to push up onto her arms, dragging her gaze across the dirt and spotting the position her boyfriend was in.

“JOEL!”

The soldier was thrown forward, a bullet from behind lodging in his chest. Joel looked up to see Tommy, marching forward with his rifle still trained on the dead soldier.

Joel hurried to sit up, running a hand his side, a bullet had scraped across the skin.

Y/n let out a breath as she watched Joel move, her eyes scanning around her for Sarah.

“Oh, God,” Tommy breathed.

Frantic breaths could be heard, closest to Y/n and furthest from Joel.

Y/n froze at the sight.

Then she was rising, racing to the spot.

Joel was right behind her. “No…” he mumbled, “Oh, no.”

Y/n made it to Sarah first, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes ran over her body. Her attempts at breath were wracking through her violently.

“No, no, no,” Joel shushed his daughter, pressing a hand to her neck, “Okay, you’re okay. You’re okay, move your hand, baby.”

“Sarah, move your hand,” Y/n rubbed the girl’s cheek, “We gotta take a look, babe.”

Sarah let her hand drop to her side, revealing the blood that covered her entire lower abdomen.

Joel felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Y/n felt her entire body lock up.

Joel was the first to move, slipping an arm under Sarah’s shoulders. She let out the most heartbreaking cry, pain flooding her body as she reached to push her father away.

“I know, baby, I know,” Joel agreed, “I know, I know, I know. I know it hurts.”

Sarah’s breaths came quicker, groans accompanying them as she strained to take in air.

“Eyes on me,” Y/n urged, taking her face into both palms and rubbing her thumbs across the skin, “Don’t look down. Look at me.”

Sarah struggled to move her lips, barely pressing them together and humming. She was trying to say something.

“Shh, shh,” Y/n tried to keep her calm, “It’s okay.”

“Come on, baby,” Joel soothed as he examined her wound, “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Another wave of unbearable pain hit Sarah as Joel pressed down on her wound, trying to slow the bleeding.

“I know, I know, I know,” the panic finally reached Joel’s voice, “I know, baby. I know, I know. I know this hurts. You’re gonna be okay.”

Sarah’s breaths grew ragged.

“You’re okay,” Y/n fought back the relentless tears, keeping her hands on Sarah’s cheeks, “You’re okay. I promise. You’re okay.”

“All right, baby, baby, baby,” Joel tried to talk over and in between Sarah’s noises, “Listen to me, I gotta get you up, okay?”

Sarah shook her head, her eyes widened with terror she couldn’t physically put into words.

“Babe, we have to get you up, okay?” Y/n continued, “It’s gonna hurt like hell for a second, but it’ll be alright.”

“All right,” Joel couldn’t wait any longer, “You come on.”

Y/n moved around to help lift Sarah’s back, her and Joel working as a team to raise her. Sarah groaned and wept as they shifted her body.

“I know, baby,” Joel was on the verge of tears as Sarah strained to help herself up, gripping his neck. “I know, I know, I know,” his voice rose in fear, “I know, I know, I know.”

Joel turned to where he’d left his brother, “Tommy, help me!”

Tommy didn’t move, “Joel…”

Sarah’s body stopped shaking under Y/n’s hands, her chest went still.

“Sarah,” Y/n begged, “C’mon, babe.”

“C’mon, baby girl,” Joel whimpered, moving frantically to loop an arm around her, “I gotta get you up. Come on. Come on, we’ll get up.”

Rising on her knees, Y/n hung her head over Sarah’s. The girl’s eyes were blank, her lips were parted.

“Come on,” Joel sobbed, his pleas dropping off as reality began to invade his blind hope, “Come…please…”

It was too late.

Joel took Sarah fully into his arms, wrapping around her so tight, he thought he might be able to physically put her back together.

Any air Y/n still had in her chest left her body, her hands resting in midair as if she was still holding the child.

She crawled to Joel, covered in blood, rocking Sarah’s body and sobbing breathlessly over her shoulder.

It was real.

“Sa-“ Y/n whispered, tears starting to flood down her cheeks. Her voice dropped to a whimper, “Sarah.”

If the universe could grieve a human being, it was Sarah Miller’s passing that brought it to tears. No part of the Earth would be spared from the chaos that had claimed her. No corner of the planet would ever bloom and flourish as it had when she was alive. When she ascended, she took humanity and all of its beauty with her.

And the souls of the two people cradling her corpse, screaming into the night, went with her.

——————

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[livingemkayde]

ch vi. bruises

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter six of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. ooof okay where to start, smut unprotected p in v, mentions of bruising from sex? fighting like actual real life fist fighting, rough but sweet sex, grinding, lowkey some cockwarming?? kinda unwanted kissing, tommy being annoying and somewhat overbearing, and unwanted touching, but not sexual. caroline. just, caroline. because she deserves her own warning for this one. no use of y/n.

summary: everything comes to a head at tommy's birthday party.

a/n: this is genuinely the longest part/chapter thing i've ever written so enjoy. tommy is really annoying in this one, im still deciding if he's going to have a redemption arc. sorry this took so long. as always, i love you all so much. MY TUMBLR LITERALLY SHIT ITS PANTS WHEN I TRIED TO EDIT THE TAGLIST SO IM SORRY IF YOU GUYS GOT TAGGED LIKE 400 TIMES.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused.  “Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”  But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen. 

You can almost remember it like it was yesterday. 

A few weeks back, the first time you invited Tommy in for a drink after dinner. Sarah was asleep back at the house, Joel was doing — god knows what. The sun was set, the mosquitoes were probably out, and there was a quiet, even maybe too quiet silence when Tommy pulled up to your house. 

He had asked what the rest of your plans were for the night. 

You had said nothing much, not knowing it was an invitation — he stayed till 2 a.m. that night. 

But it was okay. Because he made you laugh and you enjoyed his company. He was interesting. Tommy told you about how he never wanted to go into contracting in the first place. About his broken bones, his all time biggest regrets, how he was smitten with his old high school flame turned mean cheerleader until graduation. 

It was the first time you ever realized he was — well — his own person in the sense. Not just Joel’s younger brother. But Tommy. Tommy Miller. 

Maybe in another life Tommy might’ve even been good for you. A perfect pair — a match. He wasn’t mean and brooding and he certainly didn’t have 12 years on you. 

And he made you smile. And he was genuinely—genuinely interested in your life. Your post grad prospects, college, books, and even how you played soccer just like Sarah when you were younger.

But when he leaned in that night, closer to you than ever before. You froze. Like genuinely frozen, and you couldn’t even dare to look down to his slowly approaching lips, let alone how his arms caged you in. 

“First kiss?” you remember him asking.

You had just stuttered out nonsense, not wanting to breathe too hard and run the risk of pushing your lips flush with his. 

“I — um —” you nervously laughed. You couldn’t even think—not in the way you should—not when the first person that comes to mind when Tommy says, kiss is his brother. 

He had leaned in closer then—more tentative. Like you were a scared deer in headlights or a frightened kitten and he was inching forward, wanting to move closer. 

But you didn’t really do — anything. 

And he had pulled back a bit, gave you a teasing look and a ruffle on the head and continued with the conversation.  

In all honesty you were scared that he might've been inching forward to kiss you. The small fear settling through a slightly erratic heartbeat and nervous laughs. 

You were scared then, but can’t really remember the last time you’ve felt this kind of fear. 

Hurt, discomfort, shock, maybe. 

And although it was being quickly replaced with anger, you don’t remember this feeling — this kind of fear. Not even the kind you get from watching a scary movie — where you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins and then dissipating when the screen goes dark, and the lights turn back on and all you have to worry about is if the scary nun from the big screen will appear in your dreams. 

You can remember all the last times you’ve gotten mad, sure. Mainly at the Miller brothers. 

But never fear — well, not until right now. 

Because whoever that Tommy was is definitely not the same guy staring back at you right now, with a bruised fist, an angry look swirled with hurt marked permanently on his face and one emotion that you can definitely place behind his eyes — jealousy. 

_

Some hours earlier. 

You spread colorful tablecloth over the mismatched tables in Joel’s backyard. The string lights are being hung up, Joel stands on a ladder towards your right, the sound of a hammer echoing through the small backyard. 

You pick your phone out of your back pocket, checking the time. You also find it in you to check Tommy’s texts again, but no other messages have been sent since last night. You look down at your phone — at the messages — and sit against one of the tables. 

Yesterday: 

You: can we talk in person?

Tommy Miller: I’ll see you tomorrow at the party?

You hadn’t seen the text until this morning, when Joel and you found it in yourselves to get out of bed, have a shower, and start setting up for the party. So when you saw it, you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat. 

You’re a bit nervous at the prospect. You did not want to talk to him at his party—honestly just trying to text him so that the air would be cleared for the party. 

But his words echo in your mind. 

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.” 

You let out a cursed sigh. 

Tommy had to know. Right?

If he knew the dreaded ‘no’ was already braced on your lips he had to know. That this thing between you and Tommy would never work out. That you’re way better as friends. That it would ruin everything — the dynamics of it all — that you were smitten with his brother and you guys had just slept together for the second time without Tommy’s knowledge and that—

“Alright?”

Joel stands in front of you, dipping his head to see a scowl marked on your face. You quickly — maybe even too quickly — forget about the messages, hell, forget about Tommy. 

Because Joel looks handsome. He’s always handsome, you’ve thought since the moment you met him at the bar. There’s something intoxicating about him, his arms, the curve of his neck. His brooding nature does him justice — a uniqueness about him that makes you want to uncover more, learn more, see more. 

You remember last night—very vividly through small ebbs and flows of sleep. The moonlight seeped into your skin as you both rolled around in gray sheets. 

It makes your cheeks heat a bit at the thought. 

You remember everything. Every little detail. You don’t think you’ll ever forget. 

You tuck your phone back into your pocket. 

“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just…” you trail off, he nods his head in understanding, coming closer to you. 

He braces his hands on either side of your body, caging you in. Your faces study each other’s mere inches apart. 

“Tablecloth givin’ you trouble?” Joel teases in a soft whisper, looking down at your lips, then back to your eyes. 

“Funny,” you say with a grin and run your tongue over your lips. 

“You need help, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” Joel’s small smile plays on his lips for a fleeting second. You miss it as soon as it’s gone. 

“Duly noted. But I’m not the one who’s been hanging up string lights for the past hour.”

He pats your ass a bit, teasing you and pushing out a playful sigh. 

“Perfection takes time.” 

Joel’s beginning to dip his head to kiss you, but you find it in you to bite back.

“And yet the left side’s still lower than the right,” you whisper, pulling your head back slightly. He turns quickly to look at the fence, but gives you a harder slap on your ass when he realizes the lights are, in fact, straight. 

Joel chuckles, pushing off from the table, you turn back around to continue fixing the cloths, and look back at him over your shoulder. 

He’s looking back at you too. 

“You’re killin’ me,” he says, and you smile to yourself when you turn back around. 

_

You look around the backyard and check your phone for the millionth time since the party started. You can hear Sarah running around, screaming a bit while jumping into the pool. But your brows furrow when you find that Tommy still hasn’t texted you. 

You spot a tuft of red hair swinging through your vision and spin to find Janet Baker squeezing through the crowd. 

“Janet!” you say, approaching her quickly. You’re happy to see her—Tommy didn’t invite many people you’re familiar with. 

“Hey, Doll. Thanks for the invite!” she says, pulling you into a quick hug, but when she sees the look on your face, her mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetie, you okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry. I—Tommy didn’t…I don’t really know anyone here,” you reply while sheepishly looking around the small, bustling backyard. It’s the kind of feeling you try your best to avoid. Like everyone is in on some secret joke that you have no clue about. Or everyone knows each other and you can’t even put faces to names because you don’t know any names—like right now. 

“‘S fine—I’m happy to see you made it,” you let out a defeated chuckle. 

“‘F course, baby. Charlotte really wanted to see Sarah,” she nods towards the girls in the pool, Charlotte’s red hair looking strikingly similar to the woman standing in front of you. Janet seems to be on her second drink of the afternoon, you saw her tipping back a solo cup out of the corner of your eye earlier. 

“What are you drinking?” you ask her, nodding at her cup. 

“Someone brought a fancy lookin’ wine I popped open,” she says, giving you a sly smile. “Why don’t we get you a drink? You’ll like this,” she says, you don’t have much time to react, she’s already pulling you towards the drink station. 

You both settle into a comfortable silence, looking around the backyard while Janet pours your drink. 

“So,” she says, giving you a wink. 

“So…” you echo, sending a nervous laugh her way. 

“Who’s that girl,” she nods towards Caroline while passing you a cup, you take a big sip, Janet fills it back up to the top without a second glance. 

“Caroline,” you say looking at her and Joel. They’re talking to some other people, a small group of them congregating by the barbecue. 

“Caroline…” Janet tests out on her tongue, willing you to continue. 

“Caroline—Joel’s,” you can’t help but chuckle. “date. I guess.” 

“That bother you?” she says, finishing the bottle of wine while the two of you walk back towards the edge of the pool so she can watch Charlotte and Sarah. 

“Nope,” you say, and it’s not a lie. Sure, it might be a little weird to see another woman clinging to his arm after yesterday. But you know now. And that’s all that matters. 

“Joel can—” you laugh again, “—Joel can do what he likes.” 

Janet stops walking suddenly. You tear your gaze away from Joel and look at her with a confused furrowed brow. 

“Sweetie…” she says with eyes that look way too knowing for your comfort or peace of mind. 

“Janet…?” you say, though her gaze just intensifies. 

“You mean to tell me it happened since I last saw you?”

Your eyes widen, a shocked look crosses your face and you quickly try to replace it with a bad mask of confusion. 

“W-what? I—” 

“Don’t lie to me, doll,” she warns, and she looks like she really means it. 

“Janet…” you say in a not as effective and halfhearted warning tone back. 

“Don’t you dare,” she wags her finger—a final warning. 

What has gotten into you and why can’t you find it in yourself to lie to this woman?

“Don’t te—” she gasps, “Janet, I mean it. Do not tell anyone.” 

She shuts her half open mouth and makes the my lips are sealed motion across her face. You laugh while stealing a glance at Joel. 

“I told you,” she whispers to you in a hush, joining your eyeline towards Joel.

You stay silent for a moment, just taking everything and everyone in—but at the same time just looking at Joel. when you finally break the silence you’re a bit shocked at your question. You’ve never talked about Joel like this with someone who actually knows him. Everything has always been a secret—like you were supposed to be ashamed or something. You never were.  

“How did you know?” you ask, hushed. You’re not sure she’ll even hear you. 

“Would love to say it was intuition, sweetie—but—it was him. It was written all over his face.” 

_

You stayed with Janet for the better portion of the hour, all through silent peaks at your phone to see if Tommy had texted you. When it was getting to the point where people were getting curious, you’ve just about had your limit. 

You approach Joel quickly, you don’t miss Caroline’s stunned face but you really can’t be bothered with—that—right now. 

“Joel?” you ask, pulling at his arm a bit, he excuses himself from the group and follows you towards the backyard's edge. 

“Where the hell is your brother?” you whisper.

“He’s not here?” he asks, the same hushed tone also pushing through his voice at your question. 

“No! I called him, but he’s not responding,” you pipe back while pulling out your phone. Though the lack of notifications from Tommy—just as before—tells you enough. 

You both look at each other for a fleeting second. But the same worried look is probably etched on both your faces — fuck. 

“This fuckin’ guy,” Joel mutters under his breath while pulling out his own phone and then putting it up to his ear. 

You pace around the small area you and Joel are in, observing the unfamiliar faces. 

“Nothin’,” Joel grovels, taking a peak over the fence towards the street to see if Tommy's truck has pulled up. “I’ll try ‘im again — just — you should mingle,” he says, still looking down at his phone. 

“‘S fine. I don’t really know anyone here anyways,” you say absentmindedly, looking through your phone for Tommy’s contact and putting your phone up to your ear. 

You hear yelling and shouting from the entrance to the backyard. You slowly lift your head, reluctant to tear your eyes away from frantic texts. 

You spot him, in all his glory. Tommy Miller. Two hours late to his own birthday party—though he looks like he couldn’t care less, hugging old friends and new ones. He spots your eyes in the crowd and you can’t even be bothered to smile, a frown is almost permanently placed on your face—Late to your own birthday party? 

He nods his head toward the house, a silent invitation to talk when he’s done greeting the guests. You nod back and turn to Joel, Tommy turns to everyone else. 

“He’s here,” you say, pulling Joel out of his own phone, he does a double take towards the entrance and huffs out a groan. 

“Goddamn idiot,” Joel says, running his palm over his eyebrow. 

“I’m gonna go—” you say, nodding towards the house, towards Tommy. 

“Yeah. Alright,” he replies, though he looks a bit concerned and unfocused, looking towards Tommy, then back to you, “You need me, ‘m there.”

“‘M not telling him about us on his birthday and It’s Tommy, Joel.” 

Tommy—harmless. 

Though Joel’s look sends a sweat to your palms for some reason. You don’t know why he’s worried. 

It’s Tommy. It’s fine. 

Right? 

You hope as much as you make your way through the crowd. You beeline for the house and slip past the sliding doors into the kitchen where cups and bags of chips lay open and equally sprawled. 

You can hear the door slide open and shut again behind you as you try and salvage the mess. 

“Baby,” Tommy says, rounding the corner and coming close to you, “‘M sorry. The concrete guy was supposed to drop off the shipment tomorrow but he came today and needed a signature—” 

“Tommy, it’s okay,” you almost have to will yourself to say. You also have to remember it’s his birthday. 

He looks down. 

“‘S okay. It’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” you reassure with a small smile. 

“Looks great out there,” he says, fiddling with his phone in his hand. 

“Thanks.” 

You’re suddenly a bit nervous. You hadn’t really thought about everything that had happened when Tommy being late to his own birthday party was blanketing all the drama. But he’s here now, and you have no idea what to say. Maybe it would be better to not say anything at all—not address the fact that he asked you out, or you and Joel. But that guilty gnawing feeling eats you alive the longer you stand in silence. 

“Joel helped you?” 

“Yeah. I went shopping yesterday and dropped off the stuff here then we set it up this morning,” you say, nodding towards the backyard and then your car parked out front. 

“You went shopping on your own?” he almost sounds offended. 

“I wanted to go on my own.” 

Tommy doesn't look convinced. 

“Really, T. ‘S fine,” you brush off, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing your arms. He stares at you from the other side of the kitchen. 

“Caroline here?” he asks, a hesitant look on his face as he switches from looking at the ground to your face—almost like he’s looking for a reaction. 

“She’s out there somewhere,” you nod, keeping a neutral face masked with a small smile. “You should mingle. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.” 

But he doesn’t move, he just keeps fiddling with the case on his phone again, looking down to the floor—his feet. 

“I— you said you wanted to talk in person.” 

Shit. 

You both look at each other, waiting. A game of cat and mouse. 

“It can wait, T. Enjoy your party,” you say, gesturing to the crowd outside. 

“Is it about—is it about what happened Friday?” 

“Tommy,” you say, almost warningly. This situation is shitty enough as is. You really don’t want to spoil everything—even if there’s nothing left to spoil. 

He doesn’t say anything. His thumb fiddling with his phone is the only sound coming from inside the kitchen. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Almost unbearable. You crack way quicker than you’d hope to last. 

If he wants it like this, at his own birthday party, then so be it. 

“Fine. I just—I wanted to…” you scramble for words but they jumble in your mind. 

“I’m—” you fall short again. “About what you said. What you asked me. I don’t think that it’s…something I want. I’m—sorry.” 

“You don’t think it’s something you want? Or you know that—” 

“Tommy,” you say, giving him an awkward stifled laugh. Like he’s being childish with his response. Because he is. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”

He turns away from you suddenly, towards the window above the sink and just stares at it for a long time. You can see his chest puffing. When he finally turns back around, it’s different. It’s the Tommy you know. 

“‘S okay,” He says. 

Maybe he’ll get over it quickly—you hope. 

“Are you okay? I’m—I mean I hope that this doesn’t change anything since I’m still gonna be around—” you lift your arm up to run a ragged hand across your forehead and through your hair, you don’t even notice that your shirt riding up, “— I just don’t want it to like—” 

“What is that?” 

Your eyes snap to Tommy’s, confused. You think he might be looking out the window again but his eyes trail to you, but lower. Like he’s looking at your hips—because he is. You’re still confused for a second, before examining your shirt, looking for stains or anything out of the ordinary. But you don’t find anything, your top spotless. 

“What? I don’t—” 

“No—” he takes a couple quick steps forward, into your space, you try to find his eyes—yours blown out with confusion and shock but his are trained and laser focused to your waistline. 

“What’s—” he tries to pull up your shirt, you shove him back out of reflex. “You’re hurt, what happened t’you?” 

He almost pins down your hands to see your skin under your shirt, dipping his head to look at your waist and hips and you suddenly know. You know there are hand shaped bruises littered across the skin of your waist, turning it deep purple. Handprints that match Joel’s exactly—almost like they’re burned into you. You saw it this morning. It’s why you didn’t bother to put on a swimsuit and decided to keep a top on instead. 

What’s even worse is you know Tommy saw it too. 

“Tommy!” you’re yelling now, fighting his grip. 

You slip up, unable to get a good hold on his wrist like he now has on yours and he pushes the shirt up to reveal the bruises. 

“What the hell is that?” 

“Fucking—get off!” he backs away with your second shove, a different kind of look on his face. “Jesus,” you huff out, yanking your shirt back down. 

You both stand there. A pregnant silence between you. You can almost hear the gears turning, he stares blankly. Putting it all together. Like maybe you’re not hurt, but you wanted it—wanted it from another man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he might keep wishing someone hurt you so he didn’t have to feel so betrayed. So when he asks, it’s like he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true—the quiet possibility of someone else in the picture. 

“Who,” he says slowly, pointing down to your waist, “did that?”

“Tommy—” you say, but footsteps cut you off, you both turn your head to the entrance of the kitchen as Joel rounds the corner. He looks out of breath and his eyes flicker from Tommy and his finger pointing down at your waist then back to you. 

“We alright in here?” Joel stands, hesitant, his fingers play with the bottom hem of his shirt in an anxious way. Like he doesn't know what he’s just walked in on—you’re not entirely sure you know the answer to that either. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy so you stay silent, waiting for the man in front of you to respond. 

“Yup,” Tommy replies, too angry to be believable. 

Joel looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. Not out loud. 

No. You try to say with your eyes. We are definitely not alright in here. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused. 

“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.” 

But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen. 

He stands beside you, putting a flat sprawled palm on Tommy’s chest and silently tries to push him backward. But Tommy breaks first, pushing Joel’s hand off him, staggering back while looking at you and Joel.

And maybe he gets it then, you think. Because Tommy lets out a deep chuckle—like you’ve got clown makeup on. Like he’s never seen anything more funny. He’s a lot of things but he is not fucking stupid. So he looks past Joel to your eyes. To your face, almost covered—ridden—in guilt and he can see everything. 

“Really?” Tommy says, not sparing Joel a glance. 

“You put your fuckin’ hands on her?” Tommy says, almost at a whisper which makes it all the more intimidating. You can see Joel’s back puff, his anger rising. But you also know Joel would never hurt his brother. Not on purpose.

But you’re scared. You’re really fucking scared in this moment because Tommy is entirely too worked up and you know whatever excuse Joel is going to say won’t help. 

“Easy,” Joel says, his voice cutting through the tense silence. 

You’re sweating. The hot summer of July in Austin getting to you. They stare at each other for a long time. Like at the kitchen table, like when you all first met. But this time, Tommy breaks, and his eyes flicker to yours, he takes a tiny step to the side so he can see you better. 

“Is this why? Is this why you’re fuckin’—jesus, fuck. ‘S this why he went to get you a tire?” you stand, you can’t really say anything, your stunned figure doesn’t move.  

“He hurt you,” Tommy breathes out, his voice almost breaking if he wasn’t so angry. You shake your head. 

You both know that the bruises aren’t from hurt. That they’re far from it. 

“He didn’t,” you reply. 

“No, no, baby. He’s—you’re—” Tommy almost looks like he can’t believe it, shaking his head, switching between you and Joel. The look you give him shuts him up, and makes him back away, until Joel unclenches his fists and relaxes his shoulder a fraction. 

“I didn’t really want to tell you like this, I was—” 

“Fucking my brother?” he bites back, interrupting you. 

That makes you a bit mad. You’re not in love with his attitude, nor his tone. It’s not like he has any right. It’s not like either of them do. 

Joel moves to speak but you do it first. 

“Don’t give me that,” you say, almost laughing, though the situation is not funny, not in the slightest. “We’re not dating, Tommy. We never were.” 

Caroline strides in at that, looking at the scene unfolding in the kitchen. She stops short of the three of you, her mouth slightly agape. You roll your eyes, fucking perfect. Let’s just bring the party in here instead. You’ll give it to the woman. She has impeccable timing.

“Needed some napkins…” she trails off, holding the empty napkin stand in her right hand up so everyone can see. “I—I can come back.”

“Did you know?” Tommy turns to her, gesturing to you and Joel. 

“Tommy,” Joel says from in front of you, a warning. Tommy ignores him. 

“Did you know?” he asks again, Caroline stares back shocked. But she does consider it, rolls the idea around in her head before speaking. 

“Them two?” Tommy nods. “Her?” 

Okay. You really don’t love that tone. You silently chastise yourself for thinking she was nice at the bar when your first instinct was that she was a bitch—because she is. You were waiting for her snarky undertones or spoiled takes to show. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when. 

“No, ‘f couse not.” She’s almost laughing, like it could never be possible. It hits you harder than you’ll ever admit. “She’s — you’re…young,” she says, looking at you. 

Tommy gestures to you and Joel like he’s saying, well believe it, because it’s true.

Joel moves faster than you can comprehend. He’s got a tight grip on Tommy’s arm. He probably doesn’t even have to say anything, Tommy knows what’s happening. But Joel warns him anyway—again. 

“Quit,” he growls. You’d guess this might be the point where Tommy usually backs down. But this situation is far from usual. 

“Or what?” Tommy bites back. When Joel doesn’t respond he continues. “You gonna mark me up? Leave me all black and blue?” 

Tommy doesn’t stop there, you try to move past Joel but he stops you, turns his head to you slightly, a hardened look in his eye.

“Oh, I forgot you’d probably like that, huh?” 

Joel remains frozen for a couple fleeting seconds before whipping around and pushing Tommy into the back counter. You’re rooted to your place, you don’t even care that Caroline is still in the corner, holding the fucking napkin holder in the air. 

“What’d you say?” Joel barks in Tommy’s face. 

“Look at her fuckin’ stomach, dude!” Tommy throws the words in his face, pushing him back slightly and making a vague gesture in your direction, it causes your feet to move towards the brothers before you can think. 

Joel backs off then, sneaking a tiny glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like he really is thinking about the marks he left on your waist. He had seen them this morning, ran his fingers over them too, and saw how the notches matched the curves of his fingers perfectly. But you kissed him, and told him it was okay. That it was more than okay. Maybe even whispered that you liked it between muffled groans. So when a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes it makes your heart break more than it already has. 

“She said no,” Joel says, looking back at Tommy. A tense silence follows—like you’re not sure if Joel is going to continue or Tommy is going to bite back.

“Get back to your party,” Joel growls after a while. You bite your lip.

Tommy looks at Joel with unwavering eyes. His glance turns towards the window where he can see the bustling crowd—can almost hear the laughter. Then he looks down to his hand, outstretches it, undoes his gnarly fist, and when it curls back up again, you finally bite. 

“Tommy!” you say, moving closer. But it’s too late. Joel’s figure knocks to the side and his hand instinctively grabs his face, his nose, his eye. Maybe the worst part about it all is that Joel doesn’t even look remotely surprised, or that he wants to fight back—he just stays there, a little hunched over when you yelp in shock and Tommy groans, shaking out a now bruised fist. 

“Fuck,” you almost yell, your body doesn’t know what to do between bending down to see Joel’s face and looking at Tommy—at his face—because you don’t recognize him. 

Joel almost huffs out a laugh, and to shut him up, to get him to bite his tongue, you speak again. 

“Okay. We’re done here,” you say, pushing Joel towards the entrance of the house, towards your car. 

And Caroline is there, pushing Tommy towards the couches and for the first time, you’re grateful for her. 

_

The ride back to your house is silent after a short and quick bicker about who can drive. You think Joel might want to sit in the driver's seat so you can’t see the quickly forming bruises on the left side of his face but you make a decent argument, enough to settle him in the passengers—looking out the window. 

You send Janet a quick text, asking if she can watch Sarah for a few hours. Brother emergency. Janet replies back and says the girls haven’t gotten out of the pool since you left. It makes you smile a bit, despite it all. 

When you park in your driveway, you hop out quickly, Joel following closely behind. He waits there, right behind you, when you pull out your house keys, and waits when you unlock the deadbolt and waits when you push through the door. 

“Make yourself at home,” you say, nodding towards the couches and dropping your keys in the bowl. 

You disappear into the kitchen and brace your arms on the counter, your head hanging between your shoulders. You let out a deep, ragged breath and try to control your heartbeat. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking out your wrists, grabbing two advil from the bottle on your counter, a glass of water, and peas from freezer.  

Joel’s sitting on the loveseat, looking down at his hands. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He just takes the water and pills from your hands and swallows it silently. You extend the peas to him, he thinks about it for a while and when you shake them again, huffing, saying—just fucking take them. He finally obliges. 

You get a good look at his cheek when he turns to set the water down on the table and you have to stop yourself from gasping. 

“Joel,” you murmur, reaching for him, bending down, he stops you, grabs your wrist, then grabs your hand. But he’s gentle. Not like Tommy. Joel’s gentle. 

“‘S fine,” he says, and winces when the peas touch his face. “‘M fine.”

You settle in between his legs, looking down at him. He’s got one hand on his face, holding the peas, and the other, wrapped around the back of your thigh. He doesn’t even want to look up at you. It breaks your heart. 

“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, his hand on your thigh trails upward. He plays with the hem of your shirt and lifts it enough to take a peek at the purple that lies there. 

He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, running a gentle, ghost-like touch across the bruises. 

“He — saw it. I don’t…” you look down to your stomach. You can see the shape of his fingertips so clearly. It’s no wonder Tommy reacted how he did. “It was an accident.”

He doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. He tosses the peas onto the table and pushes the cotton of your shirt up further, to where he can see all of it—all the black and blue there. 

“Are you mad?” you whisper, hesitantly, as he stares at his own hands, his own branding. 

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Don’t be,” you say, begging, “Please.”

“He did that cause—,” you breathe out, taking his chin in your pointer finger and thumb and getting your first good look at his cheek, “—it’s-’s my fault, I should’ve—”

“C’mon. Don’t do that,” he says, cutting you off, nipping your apology in the bud, “I should be the one who’s sorry, this is — I hurt you.” 

You shake your head. 

“You know that’s not—you know that I—” you stifle a short chuckle. 

“That you what?”

You let out a couple hot breaths, looking down at him, the purple around his eye slowly taking shape. 

“That I liked it.” 

Joel bends forward then, and you gasp. The dull scratch of his beard is the only thing keeping your eyes open. He trails his hot breath across your stomach, and leaves gentle kisses on your sides, on your bruises.

“Joel,” you mumble, and you hate how your voice sounds so breathy, maybe even desperate. You tangle your hands in his hair, grasping at the nape of his neck he pulls you down, closer, so you’re slotted in his lap, straddling him. Joel pulls back and looks at your face, brushes the fallen hair from your eyes. 

“I meant what I said,” you start, he furrows his brow, “Still—mean it.”

From the look in his eyes he knows what you’re talking about. The words you slipped into his ear last night.

‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you.

“But if this is—if Tommy—” you cut yourself off, correcting your words, “If I messed it up—” 

“Sweetheart,” he says. Your heart pulls, you almost put your hand on his cheek, but you see the rising skin and settle for his shoulder. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He pulls you down further, so you’re flush against him. He studies your eyes and rubs at your waist, your hips. It sends a little fire down between your thighs. 

“‘M here—‘M…I’m right here,” he mumbles, and shakes his head. Like he’s telling you no to any silent thoughts of doubt that might be floating around your head. 

And then he pulls your head down to kiss you. 

It’s needy, and hot and everything you want at this moment. He’s everywhere and you can feel his growing arousal between your legs. You both needed this—you think. After everything, after—fucking—Caroline and Janet Baker and Tommy Miller. You both needed each other so bad that when you grind down onto him he lets out a little desperate groan into your mouth that spurs you on. 

Joel slips his hand under your shirt and finds the hardened peak there. He pinches it and rolls it between his fingers, it sends your hips forward and suddenly he’s sitting up, and shucking your shirt off. 

He grabs your hips and moves you against him, your most vulnerable spots grinding against each other. Giving you both blown out eyes and puffy lips and panting breath. 

“Sh–it,” you gasp when your shorts catch on your clit perfectly. 

“Pretty,” he says, grasping at your tits, at anything he can find while you grind against his length. “fuckin’—pretty like this.”

You claw at his belt and before you know it, he’s lifting you up so you’re on your knees and he’s pulling his pants past his hips. You get the memo and take your shorts off, tossing them behind you. When you sink back down onto his lap, you can feel his cock slip between your wet lips down there. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you say, gliding along his cock, soaking it. You can feel all of him now—grinding along his hardness—the girth of him fitting perfectly between your swollen lips. 

“Angel,” Joel pants out, through sloppy kisses. You look at him. He’s got a desperate look on his face. Like he couldn’t wait just like you. Not even to get upstairs to your bedroom or to get all his clothes off. Like he’s been wanting this all day. Just like you. 

You move up and reach down, feeling the wet mess you’ve both made down between your legs. You find his cock, hard and wanting, and position it at your entrance. The head sinks past your walls, enveloping it somewhere deeper and you both groan at the feeling. 

You sink down on him slowly, you’re by no means physically ready to take him. But you can’t wait any longer. He kisses you, and down to your neck, making it easier to ease yourself down onto him, and when you finally reach the end, and you’re seated fully in his lap, you both gasp. 

Your walls clench around him, eliciting a quiet groan from Joel somewhere near your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head, your forehead drops onto his shoulder. You both just sit there, waiting for the other to make a move. 

It’s kind of like a game. 

See how long you can both relish in each other’s warmth — the first person who moves loses. 

Your walls tighten again and he lets out another groan, “Jesus,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck. You’re slowly adjusting to him, relaxing around him. It makes you shudder. 

You realize he’s not really touching you. He’s got his hands on your thighs, but they’re just resting there. Not squeezing or gripping your hips like you know he so desperately wants. Maybe he’s scared, you think. From everything that’s happened today. From the consequences his touch barred. 

But you didn’t care about the consequences. You liked his touch, needed his touch, just as much as he needed something to hold him back down to earth, anchor him to you—in you. And afterall, you just want him to feel good. Feel better. 

“Touch me,” you gasp out, reaching down to his hands. 

“Am touchin’ you,” he forces out, panting near your ear. His thumb absentmindedly pushes down on the skin of your thigh a fraction harder and then eases up, like he’s saying this is the best I can do. 

“No, Joel,” you moan, rock your hips a little, moving first, moving frantically and suddenly, “touch me,” you say into his neck, reaching down to usher his hands to your hips, your waist, you. 

Joel gets it then, the silent permission. The it’s okay, and grips you harder, but not as hard as you know he would like. It’s good enough for you because he moves your hips, rocking you up and down onto his length—having enough of the senseless grinding. 

“Fuckin’ good—” Joel groans, your hands fly to his shoulders, his hair. “You feel good.” 

Your legs grow tired, he can tell. You try your best, but you’re sweaty and tired and fucked out, and when he hits a spot deeper inside you that makes you moan out, louder than before, and you almost collapse onto him. He ruts into you a little. Meeting you halfway. Fucking you deeper—maybe even a bit faster. 

Your legs ache and you feel a sheen of sweat wash over both of you. And Joel’s eye is fucked up, his cheek too. Tommy is sitting back at the house—or god knows where—with a possible broken hand, Janet baker is watching Sarah instead of you or Joel, Caroline is still back at the house, and everything is a fucking mess, but it’s so right. He feels so right. He’s — he’s right. 

You’re close then, the coarse hair on him inching you toward your climax. He knows, he can feel it from the inside. You don’t even have to say it this time, your question for his permission. He can see it already braced on your lips but he shuts you up with a kiss, a sloppy one, where he sticks his tongue into your mouth and your walls tighten around him again. 

“Yes,” he says with a moan into your mouth, “yes, yes—ah.”

“Fuck,” you say tightening around him, becoming breathless and boneless, but Joel holds you up. He always does. 

He grips you tighter, like how you know he wanted to, and you relish in the feeling. His thrusts become desperate and you brace yourself on the back of the couch so he can rut up deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. You can’t really breathe. Not when he’s everywhere. 

“Shit,” he says, rocking into you. 

Joel cums hard, holding onto you, wrapping you up in his arms as he groans somewhere near your temple. You let it spread through you, the mess of it all. He keeps you locked in his arms, even when you think he might pull away. 

He finally pulls you off him, when he says it becomes too much and you sit on his lap, playing with his curls. When you both settle from your panting you can’t help but ask.

“What are we gonna do?” you say quietly to him. 

“I dunno,” he grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. The bruise on his face is turning an ugly shade of purple. And the peas have gone warm, creating a small puddle on the coffee table. And your phone keeps buzzing from the entryway. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, running a hand on your thigh. 

_

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[boldlypurplelight]

Love is a drug|| JJK|| 5

Pairing: Yandere Jungkook × Female Reader

Genre: Yandere Themes, a bit fluff, angst, betrayal.

Summary: OC had a very Happy life with her lovely Boyfriend Jeon Jungkook, a 24 year old ceo ; but things take a vast turn and oc finds herself in critical condition.

CHAPTER 5

Jungkook had been waiting for yn, he had been trying to prepare for her birthday although your colleagues are preparing for it. He wanted to birthday to be special. He smiled already imagining your happy face.

Someone tapped on his shoulder, thinking it'd be yn he turned around only to be shocked. It was Sarah. The girl who came up week ago to his office.

Sarah smiled "Hello Mr. Jeon". Sarah was surprised, in real. Seeing this as a opportunity she went upto him.

Jungkook was shocked but he felt eerie comfortable with Sarah, he didn't know why.

"Hello!! Miss Sarah, I didn't see you there" as he scratched his head.

"I see, I have made a red velvet cake as you said. Umm, will you have the time to..." Sarah acted upon her character. She made herself look angel who can never do any wrong but the reality was something else.

Jungkook saw the hesitation and smiled to make her comfortable with him.

"Ofcourse, I'd love to" he spoke with gentle and friendly voice making her smile.

Sarah looked at her right she saw yn, it seemed like heavens were blessing her today. It was satisfying to see Yn's sad face. It didn't disappoint her.

YN on the other hand had her bitter feeling which was abandoned, rise again. The peculiar feeling bubbling in her hear, couldn't accept the fact that Jungkook was talking and smiling to none other than Sarah. That dangerous women. Yn had heard about her being homewrecker.

Nayeon said that once she had an affair with a married man. Here she was watching Jungkook talking not any other woman but her.

Yn turned around and left, leaving a message that she couldn't come to deck because of work. She couldn't face him.

SHE COULD NOT.

It would look pathetic to even go to them.

Nayeon was shocked as she saw yn coming back early. Ynn always had the trust on both of the girls so she didn't hesitate to tell her.

"I saw Sarah talking with Jungkook!!" It was all took Nayeon to burst out.

"What The Fuck!! I told you that bitch is cooking something" Nayeon knew Sarah very well, infact when Sana told her that Sarah was asking for yn's birthday, she knew something was wrong.

"It doesn't matter, he shouldn't be that fool to fall in her trap" YN exclaimed. She was not defending Sarah but a successful CEO can't even differentiate between acting and real, how stupid he must be.

"We don't clap with one hand Nayeon"

"Then go, talk to him and clear it out before it gets complicated" Nayeon made a point but yn wasn't satisfied.

"Jungkook are you cheating on me with that hoe? Damn!!! There goes my dignity" yn said with a mimic voice on how she would confront him, she felt pathetic honestly.

Jungkook and Yn were chilling in Jungkook's house. Unknowingly yn felt that Jungkook was distancing himself as if she was his least priority, as if she was not even there.

"I think I should go" yn suddenly exclaimed making Jungkook look at her in confusion.

He blinked "Why?"

"Cuz I don't think you're a bit interested staying with me" yn said with a harsh tone. She was enraged, Jungkook had talked to many womens no doubt but he never acted up like that.

"What's up with you? You literally ignore me as if I'm never there."

Jungkook was little nervous by this point he didn't know what to say and that somehow gave the answers to yn. It cleared her mind that Jungkook is having an affair with Sarah.

"I'm leaving!!!" Yn turned around, she had enough of this bullshit.

"Wait, Yn!!! Are you serious? You want to go just because you think I'm ignoring you? You don't even care about me"

Yn had frown on her face now, was he trying to blame it on her?. She turned around again to face him.

"I saw you walking out of the deck!! You just threw me under the bus and walked away" Jungkook was fuming as well as yn.

"Well no shit you deserved that"

It looked like everything stopped, his face had sullen now with tears threatening to come out as his ruthless girlfriend turned around and walked away from his door.

Rainfall has started off as June's first week came by. Yn was heading towards Jungkook's office. She felt guilty for lashing out on him. When it was her fault too for not confronting him.

She was going to confront him now. She had to make it clear-

"I regret meeting her" that's what she heard, it was Jungkook's voice. She opened the door slowly and what she saw next broke her heart.

Sarah was there, sitting on Jungkook's lap in in office. He was talking about her.

Yn couldn't believe, she stole her man just in few days. NO! Jungkook fell in her trap just in few days. Was he that stupid? Was this he wanted all along.

Yn was about to slam the door and confront him until what she heard chilled her bones.

"I could even kill her for you baby!!"

She was not disgusted, not sad but terrified now. For her own life. He sat there as if he didn't just threaten to take her life. Yn never knew she would be seeing this things before her own birthday.

As for yn knew now she has to go far......Far away from him.

Author's note: Whoosh!!!! The drama is unfolding. Guys why do you think Jungkook is distancing from yn?? Let me know in comments. Get ready for next chapter, Yandere Jungkook is on the way.

And one more thing, THANK YOU SO MUCH ARMYS!!. 250+ likes and 10 reblogs. Never knew I'll get this much love in my first series. Keep loving the series, much more love to you guys. 💟💟💟

Taglist:- @princess-sunshyn , @douknowbts , @ane102 , @jk97bam , @bangtanpov , @dodoneck , @hellbornsworld , @heyyymin , @loumin908

Comment down if you wanted to be added to taglist.

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[1d1195]

Committed Extra I

@fairytale07 asked for a bit more on this happy couple. As did my 🐱-anon who is celebrating their birthday today--HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎉 thank you for being here and sending me messages and just being so kind to me and my blog! I adore you!! 💕 I hope you have a FANTASTIC day 🥰

Thank you all of you who have read Committed and have may have been waiting for a bit more on them (but especially these two 💕!)

If you haven't read it, you can read Committed here.

This is mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst in the form of jealous Harry. I would like to write about them more in the future, I think. :)

Enjoy!

Her whole brain was a constant mess of her conscience shouting Harry, Harry, Harry 24/7, at the top of its lungs. As if she could forget about him at any second.

Being best friends was effortless. It happened instinctively, naturally.

Dating. Dating was different.

At first it was raw and passionate. What was there to discover? He knew her every thought. She could predict his every movement. All that was left to do was see each other naked and touch every piece of skin that had never been explored before. Harry thought he was home when he was kissing her. Just by merely being around her.

“Are you thinking about me?” She whispered in the dark. They were about to fall asleep. Staring out of Harry’s skylight where the moon was casting a glow but far enough away that it wasn’t brightening the room completely.

“Always.”

Harry felt her breath of laughter against his chest. His fingers trailed over the length of her bare arm. It felt like home having her beside him. Half-naked each of them. “If there’s ever a fire m’gonna be so embarrassed.” She told him the first night they slept together as a couple.

“I’d cover you.” He promised her.

Harry turned on his side and cupped the side of her face. He couldn’t see her, but fortunately he had spent the better part of the last twenty odd years making sure he could draw her face from memory—and he couldn’t even draw. His thumb skimmed her cheek, brushed over her lips, before resting on the corner of her mouth. “I love you,” he reminded her.

“Yeah?” She smirked. She couldn’t see his face, but she could imagine the way his lips moved as he said the words. In all the time she had known him, she spent a great deal of it memorizing the shape of his mouth so she could imagine what it would be like to kiss him when she couldn’t sleep at night. “I love you, too,” he grinned back at her, not that she could tell, delighted by the four words he would never tire of hearing from her. Because he had a gentle touch on her face, it was easy to lean forward and find her lips, even in the dark. But Harry thought that he could find her even if he was blind.

*

Most of their relationship did not change. She still helped clean up after shows, helped Sarah with her makeup, made muffins for breakfast, and watched from backstage or two-thirds away from front and center. Harry still visited her during his lunch break, snuggled on the couch with her while she was studying or watching TV, and made her waffles every weekend. He texted her frequently and never kept her waiting. He rubbed her feet when they watched movies and let her blab on and on about the book she was currently reading (her words, not his).

But one thing that changed was Harry’s jealousy.

It was obvious that first day that he had been harboring jealous feelings for much longer than either of them really noticed. But more than that, it burned Harry that she wasn’t jealous.

Harry was grumbling from behind stage as he peered at the man chatting with her at the bar. She was lucky to find a seat where she could see the stage. Unfortunately, someone noticed her attentiveness (and her utterly gorgeous outfit tonight) and made himself comfortable at her side. “Do y’know him?” Harry asked the rest of his friends as he peeked through the curtain. Sarah rolled her eyes.

“A bit of trust would do you well, Harry,” she reminded him.

“I trust her,” he grumbled. “I don’t trust him.”

“I don’t know him,” Niall chuckled.

“Me neither,” Mitch informed him.

Harry grumbled to himself as Niall handed him his guitar. They were announced as always and stepped through the curtain to begin on stage. Harry made direct eye contact with her the moment he settled in front of his microphone. He thought about the words he said when he finally confessed his love for her. I only sing to one person. While he couldn’t say it right to her, he wanted her to remember that moment, remember his words. Especially while people were cheering for him and there was a man chatting in her ear.

But of course, she was the one thing that grounded Harry the entire set. The way her gaze never strayed from him playing and singing. Even when the man continued to talk to her, she would politely answer but her smile was directed at Harry. Her grin gentle and knowing—like she knew Harry was irritated. Knew he was upset that someone was paying attention to her that wasn’t him.

When they took a short intermission, Harry hurried off stage and made a beeline for her. It didn’t matter that people tried to stop him or touch him. He was focused on her and only her. Since she lost Harry in the crowd her turned her attention to the man that still hadn’t left her side.

“—they were good,” he completed his thought, but Harry didn’t break his stride even a little as he turned her barstool and pressed himself to her. His weight tilting the stool back just a hair, so it bumped into the ledge of the bar. In the same motion, he cupped the side of her face and began kissing her. Bending her neck back just enough to devour her lips and search her mouth with his tongue.

When he pulled away the man was gone, and Harry sighed with relief. Raw and passionate. “Hi baby,” she giggled against his lips as she kissed him again. “Nice set. Sounded pretty. Tell Mitch I like his new flair on his solo, please,” she requested. He kissed her again, and again. “Why don’t you sit? You must be a bit tired, honey,” she murmured as he continued kissing her and she tried to push against him to get out of the seat.

He shook his head. “No, jus’ wanna keep kissing you,” he murmured.

Her heart fluttered, her cheeks turning red. “Harry, please,” she whispered softly. “This is an awful lot for a bar.”

“Embarrassed?” He asked. She rolled her eyes and slid out of his embrace momentarily and forced him to sit. She waved to the bartender mouthing the word water over Harry’s shoulder. She wedged herself between his knees, resting her hands on the front of his shoulders. He was so beautiful.

“Of course not.”

Harry was looking over her gorgeous figure. She was stunning. Perfectly stunning. A long sleeved lacy red fabric hugged all the delicious curves of her torso where it then sinched her waist and turned into a long black skirt. There was a slit that traveled the length of her leg allowing him to see her pretty skin. She was alluring. The best part of his ogling was that she was all his to look at. “You look beautiful,” he told her.

She smirked and wrinkled her nose at him as she shyly looked away for a moment. “Thank you,” she said. “I was a bit nervous I’d be too warm.”

“Well, yeah. You’re quite hot,” he smirked.

She flicked his cheek, and he chuckled as he pressed a hand over the slit of the skirt. He felt the outside of her thigh and he thought it was incredible he could find the outside of her leg so sexy. He worried he would have to take some serious deep breaths before he had to go back on stage, or he would need to make sure his guitar was in front of him the remainder of their time on stage. He was genuinely worried about his mental health. “Are you okay?” She asked.

He nodded pretending it was fine. “Jus’...y’look really pretty,” he murmured. “I don’t like it much that other people notice too.”

“Mmm...” she hummed. “I don’t notice anyone but you,” she told him.

Harry thought maybe it would be awkward being all lovey with her. Sure, he told her he loved her for years and he looked for ways to touch her so he could soothe the feelings he thought only he was having, but maybe being in love would be a little more overwhelming. But then she said things like that, and he couldn’t imagine feeling awkward about anything around her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Don’t be a jealous caveman,” she said knowingly. “M’all yours.”

He felt like he won the lottery hearing those words. The flutter in his heart was rapid, out of control. He almost moaned right there in public at the sound of it. “Come backstage,” he asked, resting his hand strategically on the exposed skin of her thigh, his thumb rubbing a circle over her soft skin. She giggled at him and pressed her hand on top of his before he started roaming—which he was wont to do.

“No, you get me very distracted back there.”

He knew what she meant. Harry was always the first one on stage as their lead singer. But since they started dating, he was almost always last out there. Waiting for one last kiss or something...more. Especially when she was in skirts. He had known her for so long without ever knowing what was beneath her skirt and now it seemed like a form of torture that he knew and wasn’t spending every minute of his life there. He was desperate to hide there. Long ones, short ones, it didn’t matter. He would live under her skirt if he could.

“Please?” He pouted, his lower lip jutting out.

She shook her head. Barely. It was hard to deny him. She wanted to give in really easily. “You’re about to go back on, baby,” she reminded him.

He sighed in defeat. “Okay.”

“I’ll be here,” she promised pulling him from the seat and then situating herself back comfortably. Harry kissed her once more (three more times) for good luck.

*

She didn’t think much of the men that chatted with her. Her eyes only thought of looking at Harry. Her whole brain was a constant mess of her conscience shouting Harry, Harry, Harry 24/7, at the top of its lungs. As if she could forget about him at any second. She was polite, first and foremost. Simply told them her boyfriend was on stage and usually that was enough. They would sometimes talk about the music realizing they didn’t have a chance—obviously. Harry looked so naturally perfect on stage. Like he belonged up there. There wasn’t any competition.

But some were a bit more persistent. “Can’t I buy you a drink?”

She shook her head. “I don’t take drinks from strangers and Harry would get very upset.”

“Sounds a bit insecure,” the man remarked. He hadn’t even told her his name.

She felt a pinch in her smile as it was clear he was going to refuse to leave. “He is not.”

But part of her felt like it was a fib. Harry wasn’t insecure. At least he shouldn’t have been—not ever. For whatever reason, Harry was insanely jealous of anyone chatting her up. She didn’t know why she chose to argue with this man about Harry’s personality. But it felt like she needed to at that moment.

“His eyes are practically shooting lasers at me,” he reminded her as she glanced back toward him to see him all but glaring at the man beside her.

“Well, he might be worried about me, because I did tell you no and you’re still here,” she reminded him with mock kindness dripping in her voice.

He smirked. “I just think pretty girls shouldn’t pay for their own drinks. Regardless of if their boyfriends are on stage or not.”

“There are plenty of pretty girls here paying for drinks.”

“Yes, but I chose the prettiest,” he said and rested his hand on her knee. Her heart leapt into her throat from the anxiety that ensued the moment he touched her. It was harmless. For now. But she wanted out immediately.

She stood up instantaneously and marched toward the backstage area. As soon as she saw a bouncer, she headed for him. He would help, he knew her well from all their gigs here. However, the persistent man grabbed her hand and turned her back toward him. “You don’t need to run off, I’m not going to do anything,” he rolled his eyes.

“I told you ‘No’ several times and you’ve ignored me. I’m just going to leave,” she shrugged casually. As if this wasn’t actually a bit dangerous—she never really had men flirt with her. Not when Harry was around. Only the one guy from the night she smacked her head on the floor and Harry came to her rescue. Since she started dating Harry she seemed to be subject to a lot more flirtatious smiles and pick-up lines.

She yanked on her hand, but his grip tightened. “Literally, what is your problem,” she pulled harder. Harry was probably fuming but she didn’t dare look up. She braced herself and felt her back straighten as she stood taller. “Let. Go,” she snapped.

“I just want to buy—”

“And I said no,” she was grateful for the slit in her skirt because it made it a lot easier for her to thrust her knee forward right to the center of his body. He released her hand with a grunt and a bouncer appeared beside her. He gently ushered her toward the backstage area while he took care of the man. Out of nervousness about what Harry would do, she avoided looking at him onstage. Making her way back, she sighed, flopping back on the couch in the makeshift dressing room. She would spend the remainder of the set reading on her phone.

Harry was going to lose his shit.

*

It was about a half hour later that the music finally stopped. The second the set ended, Niall started thanking the lovely crowd but before he even finished Harry was in front of her, breathless, sweaty, and angry.

“I’m okay,” she told him.

He looked at her, scanned her over, as if he didn’t believe her. “You can’t wear skirts here anymore.”

“Harry,” she rolled her eyes.

“M’serious.”

“Harry.”

“Kitten, I cannot imagine someone—”

“Harry, you do not tell me what I can and can’t wear,” she said knowingly shaking her head.

“But y’look too good,” he groaned and knelt in front of her. That dangerous slit wreaking havoc on his head and his heart. His hand slid through it, up to the top of her thigh gripping the fleshy bit of her just below her hip.

She patted his hand over her skirt, and she shook her head. “Harry, I don’t care what anyone else has to say. I waited over twenty years for you. I love you.”

He nodded. He leaned forward and placed his head in her lap. His hand was still beneath her skirt, holding onto her hip like she was a raft. The other arm wrapped around her waist snug between her back and the couch cushion. She gently combed her fingers through his locks. His head was warm, a bit sweaty from the lights on stage while he was playing. “I love you too,” he mumbled.

“Yeah?” She asked.

He nodded. “M’sorry m’so jealous. I don’t know...I don’t know why m’being like this. I waited so long t’have you...I jus’ I can’t imagine losing you,” he explained enjoying the feel of her cool fingertips rubbing along his scalp. He thought he might live here. His hand up her skirt, her fingers in his hair, head in her lap.

“You could never lose me, Harry,” she promised softly.

“Are y’gonna hate me if I can’t stop being jealous?” He asked.

She shook her head. But he couldn’t see. “I could never hate you, baby.”

He sighed with relief and was silent, letting his fingers dig into her hip possessively. “I can’t wait t’go home and hide under here,” he murmured. She giggled, her face blushing at his cheeky comment.

*

But moreover, Harry was miffed by the fact that she never seemed jealous. He was irrationally upset by it. Not that he wanted her to be jealous. It was just frustrating that she never seemed to lose her cool.

She was putting things away in the car as she always did, and a few girls had found their way out back to get a picture with Harry and flirt a bit. Harry kindly took the selfies but tried to deter the flirting. “Can I give you my number?”

Harry’s gaze flicked to her. He saw the smirk on her face, closing the door to the back seat (where earlier that day Harry had spent time hiding beneath one of her skirts). “M’flattered,” he said politely. “M’happily taken,” he said.

“She doesn’t have to know,” she encouraged. Harry’s eyebrows perked up as he blinked in surprise at the forwardness.

“I think she would find out,” she said closing the trunk of the car next.

“Doubtful. I’m very discreet when needed,” she shrugged, grabbing Harry’s hand and writing numbers on his palm. She kissed it and winked as she left.

Harry was in shock as he turned to his best friend and the love of his life. “Angel,” he said softly.

“No one in their right mind would believe you would fall for me,” she shrugged and licked her thumb. She smudged it against his palm and then squeezed it as they headed back inside for after gig drinks with the others.

Harry was flustered. She was pulling him behind her as if nothing had happened. “Are y’not jealous?”

“Should I be?” She had a smile in her voice as she said it.

He rolled his eyes. “Kitten,” he scoffed.

She shrugged. “Look...I...I already told you I’m not quite confident about myself. Like obviously I told you I wanted more for you when we started this whole thing. It’s kind of still true. If...if you found someone you liked more than—”

He stopped her in her tracks, pressing her against the wall of the hallway leading back toward their fake dressing room and the rest of the club. He had dreamed about pressing her against the wall so many times. Now it was a reality. After he made a mess of her skirt earlier in the day, she opted for jeans and a simple black T-shirt. The jeans allowed his thigh to press between her legs and he cupped her face. “M’love,” he cooed. The heat of which he pressed against her was so passionate and raw once more it completely contrasted the oozing cuteness he spoke to her. “You’re everything I want,” he promised.

“Then I don’t need to be jealous,” she whispered breathlessly.

He smirked, tilting his head at her, his nose bumping against hers as he did. “You’re s’level headed,” he mumbled. “If someone wrote their number on y’hand I would probably murder them.” She giggled so cutely, Harry thought he might die in the little hallway, with her trapped between his arms. “I know you want me,” Harry mumbled. “M’sorry m’not as cool about people flirting with—”

“Don’t apologize for being you,” she shook her head and pressed her lips against his briefly. “It’s exactly why I love you,” she promised. “Besides, I would never wish for someone to flirt with me, but I think your kisses are a lot...sexier when you’re a little possessive.”

“Oh?” He hummed and leaned to press a few kisses down the length of her neck. He dipped his head lower making his way across her collarbone before his tongue darted between his lips and started to find a path down the bit of cleavage her V-neck allowed.

“M-hmm,” she hummed dreamily. “Didn’t picture you the jealous type at all.”

“S’because of you, kitten,” he remarked nipping softly against her smooth, warm skin as he pressed hot, opened mouth kisses against her chest, carefully pulling her shirt down at the V so he wouldn’t stretch it. “Swear I need t’be committed whenever I see someone chatting you up.” She giggled again and Harry felt it vibrate against his tongue. “Ugh,” he moaned, and she pulled his face from her shirt and pressed her lips over his again. The back of her head touched the wall as Harry deepened the kiss, every inch of his body pressing against hers making her feel dizzy.

“Harry, I’m all yours,” she promised, her voice airy and breathless.

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Completely.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz

committed taglist: @tiaamberxx

[cowgurrrl]

Guuurrllll I don’t even know why I’m about to hurt myself but here we go:

Joel realizes on Baby girls birthday that she is a year older than Sarah and he reflects…just something really emotional that is going to make us all cry. Please and thank you

Thank you for the request honey and I’m so sorry it took so long!! I hope you like it 🫶

Fifteen

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (but this is all Joel and Charlie)

Author’s note: this image made me think of the girls and I almost cried so I had to add it

Summary: Charlie turns 15 [1.5k]

Warnings: teenage angst, discussions of deceased loved ones, Joel being the biggest girl dad you’ve ever met

The heat inching away from the mountains is the first indication Charlie's birthday is nearby. The second is the countdown Joel inevitably creates, announcing every morning how many days until his little girl's birthday. She loved it for the first few years she actually cared about her birthday, but with the teenage years crawling along, she finds it less and less endearing each year. Nothing, not even teenage angst, could stop Joel Miller from celebrating his daughter. 

Still, Charlie's different this year. She's distant. Every time you bring up her birthday, she shuts you down in that teenage way that makes you feel like you've done something wrong just for asking a question. You cry to Joel about it, and he soothes you, but it still hurts when it's the night before her birthday, and she hasn't so much as told you what she wants for dinner. 

Joel wakes up in the middle of the night for no particular reason. He looks around the room like he's forgetting he had something to do but can't remember it. You're sleeping peacefully next to him, and he kisses your cheek before padding down the hallway. He peeks his head into Charlie's room and finds her bed unmade and empty, but instead of panicking, he has an idea of where she might be. He's found her out there several times in the past few years and always tells her to stay in bed, but she never listens. The anxiety in the back of his head dies down at the sight of Charlie's curly head on the back porch.

"You better not let your mama catch you out here this late." He says, his voice deep from sleep, and Charlie jumps at the sound. She sighs in exasperation as Joel saddles up next to her.

"Sorry. I just couldn't sleep. I wasn't sneaking out or anything." She admits guiltily, and Joel nods, staring at her. Watching her mind work silently like this makes it hard for him to believe that someone so beautiful, smart, witty, and kind ever could've come from him. But when she meets his gaze through the low light of the back porch, she's all big Miller eyes and a crease between her eyebrows. "Why are you out here?"

"Dad Senses were goin' off." He shrugs, and Charlie laughs a little. 

"You do not have Dad Senses."

"No?" He asks, and she shakes her head. "Then, how'd I know you were out here, smart ass?" When she's quiet, only a smile pulling on her lips, he nudges her with his shoulder and makes her laugh again. "Huh? I can't hear you." 

"Alright, alright. Whatever. Maybe you have Dad Senses." She relents, and Joel bows his head graciously.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" 

"Don't know," Charlie sighs. "Just can't stop thinking." 

"Bout what?" He asks gently, and he watches her guards come down. For years, Joel has had this innate talent to get his daughters to talk to him about the hard stuff. You were always jealous because it took a little longer to get the girls to talk to you, but he could get them to spill secrets in no time. You blame it on the fact that he was always meant to be a dad. 

"D'you think she's gonna be okay?" She asks so quietly Joel almost misses it. "Like with my birthday and stuff?"

"That's what's got you all tore up?" He's not malicious in his tone. He's just shocked. Charlie stays quiet and he takes a deep breath before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. "Honey, your mama is one of the strongest people I know. She's gonna be just fine. We're never ever gonna be sad about somethin' like your birthday, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"So, you're gonna be okay?" She asks, looking up at him, and Joel furrows his brows in confusion.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I'll be older than her." The fact hits him hard enough to make him hold onto Charlie a little tighter in case he stumbles. He knew this day would come when you found out you were pregnant. He knew it would happen when she turned one and when she became a year older than Jane ever was. He knew it would happen. So, why does it feel so unexpected? 

Maybe because he'd been holding a torch for Sarah all these years, counting the missed birthdays as if he could see her age with them. Maybe because he got so caught up keeping his family safe, he stopped thinking about her fifteenth birthday. Maybe because he was learning to take it day by day, to memorize his daughters' features and laughs, to dance in the kitchen with his wife, instead of waiting for a second shoe to drop and his undeserved soft life to be ripped out from under him. Whatever the case, he tries to recover quickly and kisses Charlie's forehead.  

"You know, when you were born, your mama and I used to have these long conversations bout what you'd be like when you got older. She told me stories bout Jane, and I told her bout Sarah, and you'd just lay there sleepin' or playin' with Ellie," he says wistfully. "And even after all that talkin' and plannin', you are still beyond our wildest dreams. I mean, we knew you'd be amazing, but shit, kid. You really take our breath away." Charlie laughs a little at the praise, and it's enough to give Joel a second to take a shaky breath. 

"And even when you were so little, we worried bout you and what tellin' you bout your sisters might do. We even talked about maybe not ever telling you bout them, but that didn't seem right," he shakes his head, and Charlie makes a face at the idea of never knowing about her sisters. "But, the one thing we knew we could agree on was that we never ever wanted you to feel bad for being the one who survived, and I'm sorry that that's what's happened."

"It's not that…" Charlie sighs. "I guess I just struggle. Knowing I'm here and they're not and how much you wanted them to be here." 

"I get it. We struggle, too, but we wanted you to be here just as much as we wanted them. You know the stories, so I won't repeat 'em, but your mama and I were really, really young when we had Sarah and Jane. And it would've been easy to walk away or make a different decision, but we loved them. They were a part of us, and, of course, we miss them, but that doesn't take away from our love for you and Ellie. We want and love all four of our girls, but it… it just wasn't in the plans that you'd get to meet each other." 

"Am I… do I…" she struggles before mumbling a quiet 'fuck it.' If you were around, he'd reprimand her, but because it's just them, he lets it slide. "Do I remind you of Sarah?" She asks, and Joel smiles. 

"Sometimes. "

"And Mom? Do I remind her of Jane?"

"Yeah. She's said a few times that you've done things she did."

"Is that a good thing? That I remind you of them?"

"Of course it is, but, baby, you're so much more than just a reminder of them. You're your own person with your own thoughts, feelings, and opinions, and we love you for that. We love you for so much more than just bein' a reminder, and I'm sorry if that got lost along the way," he squeezes her hard like he's trying to press the words into her. "So, yeah, I might be a little sad bout your birthday, and I might think bout Sarah, but I'm so happy that you're gonna be fifteen." His voice catches on the age, and he shakes his head at the night sky. 

"You're gonna be fifteen, but yesterday I was lyin' on the couch with you so your mama could get some sleep."

"Daddy," Charlie scolds, but it's too late; tears are already falling down his cheeks, and she's already chuckling at him. She steps back and wipes away his tears with a soft smile on her face that isn't completely him or you but a mixture of something new and perfect. "No more of that, alright? You're gonna make me cry."

"I can't make you any promises."

"I know," Charlie says as she wraps her arms around Joel and hugs him tight. She's just tall enough that her head fits under his chin, and she can hear his heartbeat. "I don't need promises." She says. There, on the porch, amidst the fireflies and cicadas of late summer, the clock strikes midnight, and Charlotte Elaine turns fifteen in her father's arms. They don't know it yet, though. Joel still wears a broken watch, and Charlie is in the season of youth where she has nothing but time, so why would she care about it? Why should either of them care about it?

They have time.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

[laundrybiscuits]

(soulmates AU: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4)

When Eddie Munson was almost fifteen, his soulmark showed up overnight.

Oh fuck oh god oh fuck oh god he’d thought in a loop, horrified eyes stuck on a wrist thrust as far away from himself as his gangly limbs could manage. 

All year, the hope had been growing and growing in him that he’d dodged a bullet. Turns out it was just a little slow.

Because, see, when Eddie Munson was almost eight, he asked his mom why can’t we just go away somewhere, like—like, just us, and Sarah Munson kissed his head and said your daddy’s my soulmate, baby. It’s gonna be okay.

And then because he was a little shit who routinely broke his mom’s heart, he tore himself out of her arms and yelled if you loved me he wouldn’t be your soulmate, which didn’t even make sense to himself at any point, he’d just been hopping mad with nowhere to put it except a woman who had only ever done her best to love him. 

He didn’t blame her at all when he got sent to live with Wayne, pretty soon after that. Not, like, the next morning or even the next month, but close enough that when he got told he was going, it all sort of made sense in his eight-year-old mind. It all connected.

When his fourteenth birthday came and went without the heavy hand of destiny landing on his wrist, he’d slowly started to relax. He’d gotten all wound up worrying about it, the whole year he was twelve, concocting increasingly elaborate scenarios in his mind: a popular girl who would sneer resentfully at him for the rest of their lives, or maybe some bizarro girl version of Eddie who would hate him even more.

Sometimes, guiltily, he’d wondered what would happen if it wasn’t a girl’s name at all. He’d never even heard of anything like that happening, but he’d been starting to get the feeling that if there was ever going to be a freak of nature like that, it just might be him. 

As much as the thought of getting chained to a girl for life was starting to make him feel like running and hiding and clawing off all his skin, the thought of getting a name that wasn’t a girl’s name—that would be so much worse. Sure, he couldn’t picture any girl who’d be pleased to have his name on her, but some guy who had to bear Eddie’s chicken-scratch scrawled across his wrist like the mark of Cain? He’s pretty sure people have gotten put in the ground for less. The week before he turned thirteen, he had three nightmares in a row about it. 

Maybe it should’ve been some kind of relief to see SANDY FOWLER, who could be a girl but honestly probably wasn’t, someone he hadn't even ever met and couldn’t guess anything about. A reprieve from having to know for sure either way: as close to a blank canvas as anyone like him could get. A million-to-one shot. Instead, he'd just felt the fear in his gut curdle and turn to a cold kind of fury.

Fuck this, he’d thought, and reached for the beat-up Bic on his bedside table.

———

People get real weird about it, especially once he gets it covered up all the way instead of just stabbing ink into his skin any which way, driven by nauseous determination to fuck it up any way he could. 

When Wayne had come home that day and seen Eddie on the bathroom floor, covered in blood and ink and the snotty tears he couldn’t hold back after a while, he'd yelled at Eddie for the first time in Eddie’s life. 

He hadn't kicked Eddie out afterwards, though Eddie’d still slept with his backpack tucked under his bed for weeks, just in case. Instead, Wayne had asked around awkwardly, and one of his old trucking buddies had known a guy called Frank out in Ohio who ran a side business for desperate folks. 

Frank had made some kind of face when he saw what Eddie had done; nodded at Wayne and said, "You did good bringing him here."

Wayne had just nodded back in that taciturn way he got around strangers sometimes, and helped Eddie up into the chair. 

He'd gone back one more time when he was eighteen, just to get it patched up and smoothed out again. Frank hadn't recognized him at first with his fresh new metalhead look and the way he'd been shooting up like a weed. They'd joked about covering his whole arm eventually, and Eddie thought maybe it wouldn't even be a joke in another few years. He's not in a rush. He feels a kind of vicious, candy-sweet relief when he looks at his arm now, so everything else is just a bonus. 

But yeah, people do get real weird about it. He’s pretty sure some of them think he never had any kind of name under there, that he’s just a poser who wants to act all badass like he’s rejecting something he never had, but the joke’s on them because Eddie really fucking wishes that were the case. The ones who do think he has a name probably think it’s covered in Sharpie or something, like Eddie gets up early every single morning to reapply the felt-tip for shock value. 

It’s not a huge shock when Steve Harrington gets a little squeamish about the whole thing. It’s maybe a little surprising that Steve hasn’t heard the rumors about it already, but he guesses they’ve moved in pretty different circles. 

Every time they’re in the same room now, Eddie’s got a mental timer ticking away until Steve’s eyes drop down to his wrist. He’s pretty sure Steve doesn’t even know it’s happening, most of the time. 

Of course he knows about the Nancy Wheeler thing. Everyone fucking knows about the Nancy Wheeler thing. Steve hadn’t been shy about it at any point; it’s not all that common to meet your soulmate real young, so it had been pretty big news in the halls of Hawkins High. It was bigger news when Wheeler dumped him very publicly and, it seemed, very permanently. 

Eddie hadn’t cared so much until that point. Sure, it was a little unusual, but who gave a rat’s ass? You could see that kind of thing in any insipidly brainless rom-com you liked. The break-up, though. He’d never have guessed that Wheeler had the big brass balls to pull that kind of thing. And shacking up with creepy weirdo Jonathan Byers like that—there had to be some real juicy story there. He’d even heard some of the adults around Hawkins talking about it, like it was actual news or something. 

The whole thing makes a lot more sense when Nancy finally gets around to telling him about it. He’s kind of a captive audience at first, just blearily nodding along as she perches on the chair by his hospital bed and nervously, haltingly fills the silence when he’s too hazy to contribute much to the conversation. 

She ends up telling him a lot of stuff that he’s not a hundred percent sure she meant to say, or at least he’s not a hundred percent sure she meant to say it to someone who’d actually hear her.

“I liked him,” she says. “I did. I’m positive. I wasn’t being forced into it, or anything like that. I liked him so much. I wasn’t…I wasn’t lying when I said I loved him.”

Eddie’s only mostly awake at that point, but he sees her press the heel of her palm into her eyes and take a deep breath. “I wasn’t lying. Not on purpose. God, I don’t know. Maybe I was lying. I didn’t think I was when I said it, anyway, and that’s—that must count for something, right?” 

She laughs a little. “You’re not even awake, and I’m having a complete breakdown at you.”

With a truly herculean effort, Eddie rouses himself to make some kind of acknowledging noise. 

She flinches a little in her chair, so she really must’ve thought he was out. “Oh! Eddie, um—are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

“S’okay,” he manages. “You can—keep talking. If you want.”

Nancy pauses and looks at him, pursing her mouth in that prissy, thoughtful way. “Okay,” she says at last. “I will.”

[acourtofthought]

Do you think Elain will get gwydion? I remember Sarah posting Blodeuwedd on her pinterest in association with Elain. The name Gwydion continues to show up in the story of Blodeuwedd

I don't think Elain would end up with Gwydion considering her character does not seem set up to become a warrior but, I do think there is something to her being tagged in a photo of Blodeuwedd and what it means for the sword.

Lucien, as Elain's mate, seems connected to that fairytale as he is the substitute for the role of Llew considering Llew was the one who had a wife created for him out of flowers, "the most beautiful maiden anyone had seen". And it was Llew's uncle "Gwydion" who created this wife for him.

"The name Gwydion is a boy's name meaning "born of trees". A name from Welsh mythology. In the Mabinogion, Gwydion was a powerful magician who made his nephew a wife from flowers (Blodeuwedd, meaning "face of flowers").

So we have the name being connected to the Blodeuwedd tale and that name means "born of trees" which is how Autumn Court males are often described. Lucien was a "son of the forest and he looked crafted from it", in SF we have similar imagery for Eris.

Those are two really big points in favor of Lucien getting Gwydion, in my opinion. Not to mention the sword is a symbol of the first High King of Prythian and if anyone is going to take up a symbol of that role, the one who helps maintain the peace across the lands of Pyrthian, human lands and the continent, there really is nobody more suited than Lucien.

The sword is also a Made object and we're told in SF that through Helion and his reaction to the Mask, Lucien has a possible connection to items of the Made variety.

I also really like the symbolism of Lucien having Gwydion and Az having Truth Teller. In the fairytale it's Az's character "Gronw" that tries to kill Llew (Lucien's character) with a spear which LLew evades when he turns into an eagle and flies away (interesting how Helion's beast form seems to match that description).

We have Az who holds all this jealousy towards Lucien, believing that he's not a good male and not deserving of Elain which is sad because the two actually have a lot in common and could have shared a decent connection had Az not let his bitterness get in the way.

If by the end of the series Lucien has Gwydion and Az has Truth Teller, it comes full circle. Where, because the blades were like two long lost friends catching up in HOFAS, Lucien and Az will always find themselves reconnecting over the years because of those blades. I think Az is acting like an ass at the moment but they're always going to be in one another's lives. Elain will always be Feyre's sister and Lucien will always be Elain's mate and Feyre's friends so there's going to be holidays spent together, children birthday celebrations spent together, and so on. I doubt SJM will close out these books where the two males share in animosity and this solution is one way to set right their past, how a friendship of sorts can take shape.

I also really like the thought that Nesta would bestow Gwydion to Lucien after the way she acted towards him once they all realized he was Elain's mate. It would be an acknowledgement from her that he is her brother and a worthy male for her sister. Editing after a conversation with @crazy-ache and an idea she had. It would always be symbolic of Nesta to pass the torch of Lucien taking care of her sister through the sword. I have no doubt that by the time her story is finished, the others will acknowledge that Elain is capable of taking care of herself but, Nesta will always want to know someone is looking out for her. Since I imagine she won't be the one to have that role any longer, it would probably give her peace of mind to have Lucien looking out for Elain (as Elain will look out for Lucien) especially with the knowledge that he has a Made weapon. Nesta has the Trove, Ataraxia, Narben is still out there, the dagger she created, it actually doesn't make sense for the members of the Night Court to keep all made weapons for themselves when Lucien and Elain are supposed to be equals to the members of the IC, just in a different court.

Other than that possibility.....

I don't know that I see Gwyn ending up with Gwydion as Az had a strange reaction when the blades were near one another. I can't imagine him dealing with that day in and day out. Gwyn also named a sword, unprompted, "Silver Majesty" and both Gwydion and TT have black blades (I think Narben will be hers).

If Lucien does not end up with Gwydion, I could see it going to Mor considering her family was the original ruling family of the Night Court and she could possible be a female descendant of Theia's. Bonus points if Az gives up the first Illyrian hero's dagger to Emerie, the first female Illyrian to complete the Rite.

As for Elain, I could see Lucien gifting her a dagger the way he once did Feyre. Something lovely and beautiful that she can keep for self protection and that does not have the bloody history that Truth Teller does.

[mayhem24-7forever]

Cowgirl Lessons

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range) x F!Reader Oneshot

Summary: When she decides to spend her spring break from grad school in Wabang Wyoming, Y/N finds herself getting a little extracurricular education from a dashing cowboy named Rhett Abbott... with important courses like two stepping, cowboy hat law, bull riding, and lassoing/rope work.

Author’s Notes: Firstly, I don’t want minors reading any of my fics, even if they are SFW so this one is especially off limits! I deserve a safe place to express myself so please respect my boundaries. this is super long (like over 15k lmao) but it’s my birthday so #treatyoself. this came out of a conversation with @hyperfixatingmenever and @a-reader-and-a-writer on the top gun discord… so this is dedicated to the server. Big thanks to everyone who helped me out with this including @marvelandotherfandomimagines and @topguncortez​. fic divider by the lovely @a-reader-and-a-writer 💕

Content Warnings: bull riding (poor bulls tbh at least this is fake), mentions of injuries from bull riding, people referring to rhett as the town slut/manwhore (because he is and I love him for it), reader is referred to as a “city girl” so i’m very sorry to anyone from the country, small children being embarrassing menaces, overprotective brothers, profanity, drunk guy cat-calling once, drinking, dancing (two-stepping), flirting (like SO much flirting), making out, distracted driving (DO NOT FUCK OR FINGER WHILE DRIVING IN REAL LIFE ITS UNSAFE), fingering, teasing, one (1 singular) spank, dry humping/riding, unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it before you tap it in real life guys even if clean/on the pill), rope bondage, consensual somnophilia (waking up to being eaten out after giving permission the previous night), oral sex (female receiving), shower sex, having trouble walking after getting railed

The tiny town of Wabang, Wyoming was not where Y/N had thought she’d ever willingly choose to take a vacation, especially if she had other more exciting options. Nevertheless, it was where she found herself on her spring break from grad school, having decided to accept her brother’s invitation to spend two weeks there. At first, she had been excited, she hadn’t seen her brother much since he got married to a farm girl and moved to Wyoming to start a family, only getting to see him once or twice a year when he came over for the holidays. She was also excited to finally see his ranch, never having been able to visit before. Of course, she was a little disappointed as she got texts and saw social media posts from the rest of her cohort, practically everyone she knew seemed to have escaped to Miami, L.A., Cabo, or somewhere else warm, tropical and gorgeous. It wasn’t that Wyoming wasn’t beautiful–it most certainly was. From the peaks of the picturesque mountains to the wide open plains straight out of a postcard, it was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever been. But for as amazing as Wyoming was, she couldn’t help but think that she may have made a mistake.

At that very moment, her roommates were likely on a beach, surrounded by shirtless ripped frat bros and gorgeous women in skimpy bikinis, pounding back shots of tequila while grinding on some jacked hotties to a Ke$ha song. All while she was sitting in the uncomfortable metal stands of the Amelia County rodeo ring playing babysitter for her brother’s kids as they watched a bunch of grown men in cowboy hats ride large cows and fall on their asses in the dirt a bunch. While her friends were getting drunk, having sex, and partying, she was swatting flies away from her eight year old niece’s corndog and trying to keep her five year old nephew from dripping his ice cream all over himself and everyone else within a ten foot radius.

“Auntie Y/N?” her niece, Sarah, asked and she turned to look at her.

“Yes, lovebug?” she replied.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” Sarah said.

“Okay, lovebug.” she told her before turning to her nephew. “Come on, Jesse.”

She had never herded cattle before, but if she had to guess, it was probably much like trying to keep two small children focused on the simple task of walking to a bathroom. As they walked down the stairs of the stand, Jesse decided he wanted to run to the top so he could ‘see the bulls in the pens from up high’. After getting him down to the bottom, she realized that Sarah was jumping up and down to try and see over the fence, not believing Y/N when she said that the ring was empty because they were between rides and pouting when her aunt pulled her away.

As they made their way through the crowd towards the porta potties, she tried to no avail to get either of them to hold her hand, meaning she was much more focused on keeping her eyes on them than to the crowd around her. The crowd was thinning a little and the kids were still surging ahead without her, although luckily she could see them heading for the porta potty doors.

“Sarah! Jesse! Come back here!” she called out, too busy watching them to watch her step as she smacked right into a broad shouldered frame.

She was falling backwards for a moment before a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and caught her before she hit the dirt. She was pulled up to her feet and steadied by the hands as she looked up at the person who had caught her. He was tall and quite handsome with the most striking blue eyes she had ever seen, his ear-length brown hair pushed back below his cowboy hat.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asked, his voice low with just the hint of a country accent.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” she exclaimed, suddenly realizing how close she was to him with her hands on his chest as he still held her waist and she stepped back, embarrassed. “Thank you for catching me.”

“It’s quite alright, Miss. I hope I didn’t get any dirt on your pretty dress.” he replied, dusting off his gloves as she looked past him, relieved to see both kids opening the porta potty doors and stepping inside and he turned to follow her gaze. “Sarah and Jesse giving you trouble?”

“Yes, I-” she began and paused, confused. “How did you know?”

“Sarah is good friends with my niece, Amy, and they live near our ranch so I drive them all home from school on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” he explained before pulling off his glove and holding out his hand. “I’m Rhett Abbott.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” she replied as she shook it, trying to ignore the shiver of attraction that ran through her body when she felt his strong grip.

He smiled at her name and she knew that the grin of that handsome devil could be the death of her. The crowd had thinned out but she still walked closer to the bathrooms so she wouldn’t miss when the kids came out, Rhett trailing behind her. She finally noticed that he was wearing chaps over his jeans and one of the protective vests the riders had to wear over his blue plaid button up, the sleeves rolled up to showcase his well-defined arms.

“Are you a bull rider? I haven’t been able to pay much attention to the rodeo while trying to watch those two.” she asked.

“Yeah, I imagine those two are keeping you busy.” he said with a smirk. “And yes, I’m riding tonight.”

“I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure how bull riding works. I tried asking the kids but Jesse just said ‘you have to ride the bull the best’ and I have no idea what that means.” she said with a laugh and he chuckled.

“Well, there’s all kinds of rules about only using one hand and not touching the bull and tryin’ to earn the most points and the like but the most important thing is to try and last the full eight seconds without falling off.” he explained and she nodded.

“And do you often last the full eight seconds?” she asked, not entirely talking about bull riding any more.

“Oh, I always last far longer than eight seconds…” he replied with a smirk and she knew they definitely weren’t talking about bull riding anymore. “I was wondering if-”

“AUNTIE Y/N!” Jesse yelled as he ran out of the bathrooms and towards her, interrupting Rhett, who looked a little disappointed.

“WASH YOUR HANDS!” she ordered, pointing at the portable sink and shaking her head as he turned around to do as she asked, running back to her when he was done.

“Auntie Y/N, can I have another ice cream?” he asked, tugging on her dress before turning to the man talking to her. “Oh, hiya Mr. Rhett.”

“Jesse, I’ve told you about a hundred times that you can just call me Rhett.” he said, clearly amused by the young boy’s formality.

“Ma told me I have to say Mister and Miss for any adults who ain’t family.” Jesse said firmly before turning back to his aunt and tugging on her dress again, looking up at her with wide, puppy dog eyes. “Can I have another ice cream pleeeease?”

“One is enough for tonight little munchkin, but it was a good try.” she told him and he giggled.

“Listen, I wanted to ask you-” Rhett started but was interrupted once more.

“ABBOTT! YOU GOT FIVE MINUTES BEFORE YOUR RIDE! GET ON IT!” a man called out from near the fence at the back of the bull pens.

“ONE MINUTE!” Rhett called back, obviously annoyed at another interruption, before turning back to her. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to get a drink with me tonight? There’s a bar called the Handsome Gambler over on main street that I usually go to after a ride.”

He was smiling confidently but she could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes that made her feel special. Here was a man who regularly rode thousand pound cows angrily trying to buck him off but he was anxious that she might say no to a drink with him. She smiled.

“I have to get the kids home but if I’m not too tired after that, I think a drink might be nice.” she said coyly and he grinned. “But fair warning, I’m not a beer and whiskey type girl, more of a fruity cocktail kinda girl.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from a pretty city girl.” he replied and she smiled.

“RHETT!” the man called again and Rhett sighed.

“Go on cowboy, you’ve got a bull to ride.” she said, patting his chest before giving him a playful push towards the arena with a wink. “We can talk more at the bar.”

“Looking forward to it.” he said with a smirk before tipping his hat and walking towards the ring.

“Good luck!” she called after him.

“Good luck Mr. Rhett!” Jesse added, waving.

She watched him disappear into the back area of the ring, off limits to the audience and once he was gone, she turned to see Sarah washing her hands.

“Come on, lovebug! We’ve got some bull riding to watch!” Y/N called to her niece who smiled as she ran over to her. “Now, this time, you’re both gonna hold my hands until we get to the stands or you’re gonna be in big trouble.”

Miraculously, they made it back to their seats without either of the kids running off. She was smoothing out her dress skirt when Jesse suddenly started crawling onto her lap.

“What are you doing, you little munchkin?” she asked, amused.

“The seats are so uncomfortable, Auntie Y/N!” he explained with a pout. “Ma and pa always let me sit on their laps.”

“Alright, come here.” she told him and he smiled widely as she took him into her arms and sat him on her lap.

“Time for our last ride of the night, folks!” the announcer said through the crackly old speakers. “And it should be a good one! We have our hometown hero Rhett Abbott, winner of the Wyoming Rodeo competition last year, placed fifth in the semi-nationals, and tonight he’ll be riding the ever ornery bull ‘Napalm’. Napalm has quite the reputation for ending winning streaks and knocking riders out of the competition, and often, into the hospital. If Rhett can last eight seconds on Napalm, he’ll be practically guaranteed to move forwards to the state competition once again this year.”

At the mention of a hospital, Y/N sat up nervously, eyes glued to the back gate where she could see Rhett climbing in a pen, the bull he was mounting bucked wildly even in such a small space. Aside from plenty of nasty looking bruises, the worst injury they had seen that night was a man who broke his leg when he was thrown from the bull but he had been smiling and had his thumbs up as the on-site paramedics had carried him out of the ring.

This bull seemed more determined than any before to throw his rider, looking so angry that he probably wouldn’t want to stop until Rhett was below his hooves. From afar she could see the handlers struggling to keep Rhett upright as Napalm threw itself around the small pen wildly. She put her hand over her mouth and began chewing on her fingernails, a habit she only did before large exams and important presentations at school. Suddenly, she felt a little hand on her arm, pulling her hand down and she turned to see Sarah beside her, looking up at her with a caring expression.

“Don’t bite your fingernails Auntie Y/N, ma says it’s real bad.” she cautioned and Y/N managed a smile as she put her hand in Sarah’s and gave it a light squeeze.

“Thank you, lovebug.” Y/N said before leaning over to press a kiss to her niece’s forehead. “Just a little worried about Rhett, I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Rhett is real good at riding bulls, pa always bets on him.” Sarah replied with a big smile at trying to be helpful.

Before Y/N could respond, a loud and low air horn sounded and the gate was thrown open. The crowd rose to their feet, blocking her view as they cheered wildly. Quickly, she shot up, holding Jesse close to her as she looked over the cowboy hats of the men in front of her, Sarah climbing to stand on her seat so she could see too. When she had seen the first bull ride of the night, she thought it was the most terrifying thing she’d ever seen, questioning why anyone in their right mind would do it as rider after rider was thrown from the bucking bulls and into the dirt. But this one made all the rest look like child’s play, the bull bucking higher and faster and harder as it spun, desperate to knock Rhett off.

Everything was happening so fast that it was almost a blur, even though it felt like a lifetime as she watched him struggle to stay on. At some point his hat had flown off and into the dirt and the bull had almost trampled on it. A cloud of dust was kicked up by Napalm’s hooves, making it a little harder to see but still the crowd cheered as Rhett stayed on. Suddenly, a buzzer rang out, signaling the end of the eight seconds. She wasn’t sure if he had jumped or been thrown but in a flash Rhett was on the ground, some handlers helping him up and away from the angry animal as others roped the bull and returned it to its pen.

When Rhett stood up fully, looking relatively unharmed as a handler handed him his hat, she breathed out a sigh of relief, one she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. As he put his hat on his head, he spun around to look at the scoreboard which changed to show him in first place, miles above the other riders in points. The crowd went wild, so loud and passionate that Y/N was certain there were Super Bowls and arena concerts with less excited crowds.

Sarah jumped up and down on her seat, her arms raised as she screamed happily, Jesse pulling himself off of his aunt’s shoulder to holler as well. She shifted her nephew so that she could clap and cheer, smiling down at Rhett’s figure in the ring. He was reveling in his victory but she could see that he seemed to be searching the crowd for something–or someone, she realized when his eyes met hers. His smile spread into a grin and she smiled back as she clapped and cheered. A handler walked up to Rhett and drew him–rather reluctantly–away from the crowd, sparing one last glance over his shoulder as he was led through the back gates out of the ring.

“Another fantastic ride for Rhett that has secured his place in the state competition!” the announcer said as the crowd continued to cheer. “Thank y'all for coming out to tonight’s rodeo, have a safe night!”

With that, the crowd began to file out of the stands and out into the gravel and dirt parking lot as she took a moment to catch her breath and calm her heart rate, so relieved that not only was Rhett okay but that he had seemingly won too. Jesse was beginning to nod off as he came down from his sugar high so she shifted him onto her hip as she led Sarah by the hand, who was rambling about how great of a ride that was and how she knew Mr. Rhett could do it. Y/N had a sneaking suspicion that her niece was harboring a bit of a school girl crush on him, which she found rather amusing.

They stood by the parking lot and played I Spy until her brother’s dirty red pick-up truck pulled up in front of them. Jenna, her sister-in-law, hopped out of the passenger seat to hug her babies, who were definitely very glad to see her. Y/N sat in the passenger seat as Jenna sat in the back between her children’s car seats. As her brother Sam pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, he looked in the rearview mirror at his family.

“Did you have a good time with Auntie Y/N?” he asked and the kids nodded before he turned to his sister. “Did they behave themselves?”

“Yes, they did.” she answered. “How was your date night?”

“Absolutely perfect.” Jenna said happily. “Thank you so much for watching them, we haven’t had a real proper date night in a few years.”

“Of course, it was fun.” Y/N replied, smiling at her sister-in-law.

“How was your first rodeo, sis?” Sam asked.

“Definitely… interesting.” she answered and he chuckled.

“Yeah, it took some getting used to when I first moved out here, Jenna used to say that I looked more scared than the actual riders.” he said and the kids laughed. “Who had the best score of the night?”

“Mr. Rhett!” Sarah piped up. “Mr. Ricky in the speakers said he gets to go to the state competition. He rode the whole eight seconds and he got way more points than everybody else!”

“Well I’ll be damned, looks like I just made twenty bucks off Carl at the seed store.” her brother said with a smile.

“Mr. Rhett and Auntie Y/N are going on a date!” Jesse exclaimed suddenly and Sam struggled not to swerve the car on the road before looking to his sister in disbelief as his son continued. “I heard him ask her to go to the place on main street where mommy says kids aren’t allowed.”

“Rhett Abbott?” Sam asked and she looked down in embarrassment at being ratted out by her nephew.

“I was going to ask if you could drop me off at the Handsome Gambler instead of my hotel.” she said quietly, referring to the little motel room her brother had put her up in because he was still working on building the new addition to the house for a spare room.

“Rhett Abbott?” Sam asked again incredulously and Jenna leaned forward to slap Sam’s shoulder and look at her sister-in-law.

“Rhett’s a nice man, you’ll have fun.” Jenna said before lowering her voice and giving a wink. “And he’s real good-looking too, you chose well.”

“No, no, no!” Sam exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel for emphasis. “My little sister is not going out with Rhett Abbott the…” he trailed off as he glanced into the rearview mirror to see the kids listening in and quietly added “...the M-A-N-W-H-O-R-E of Wabang!”

“Daddy, what does that spell?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll tell you later, sweetie.” he replied before looking at his wife. “I can’t believe you’re encouraging this.”

“Oh, stop it Sam!” Jenna said as she rolled her eyes. “She’s an adult who can make her own choices! Besides, she deserves to have a little fun on her spring break without her big brother ruining it.”

“Fine. But if he hurts you Y/N, I swear I’ll beat his…” he trailed off again as he noticed the kids were watching. “...butt.”

The kids started giggling, thinking that their father saying ‘butt’ was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

“So, will you drop me off at the bar?” she asked her brother and he sighed before nodding reluctantly.

“Auntie Y/N and Mr. Rhett! Sittin’ in a tree!” Jesse began to sing and Jenna tried not to laugh. “K-I-S-S… I don’t know the rest.”

“It’s ‘K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage!’” Sarah exclaimed helpfully.

“If Mr. Rhett marries Auntie Y/N, do we call him just Rhett ‘cuz he’s family or do we still call him Mr. Rhett?” Jesse asked his mother.

“He’d be Uncle Rhett then.” Sarah corrected, a proud smile on her face.

Y/N felt like she was going to die from embarrassment and stared out the window to avoid looking at anyone as her sister-in-law hushed the children. She couldn’t stop thinking about her brother’s words. Was Rhett really the town slut? He flirted with her so easily that it was obvious he wasn’t new to picking up girls and he was certainly handsome enough to leave a long trail of broken hearts behind him. Rhett was probably just a player looking to get his dick wet but wasn’t that what she was hoping to do too? She supposed that she could keep her heart out of it for her pussy’s sake and have a fun little spring break fling.

Soon enough, they pulled up in front of the bar on main street and she hopped out, turning back to lean through the open window to speak to her brother.

“Thank you for the ride, Sammy, I’ll see you tomorrow morning!” she said but before she could turn around to head into the bar, he reached out and placed a hand on her arm.

“Hey.” he said lowly, not wanting the kids to hear him. “I’m serious, call me if you need a ride or help or anything, alright? I don’t care if it’s at three a.m. or something, just call me.”

“I will, Sammy, thank you.” she assured her big brother, placing her hand over his to squeeze reassuringly before turning to walk towards the door.

“Have fun girlie! But not too much fun, it might be a bit too soon for you to become a momma!” Jenna called out and Y/N laughed as she grabbed the door handle.

The Handsome Gambler was just how she would expect a bar in a small midwestern town to be. It was dim and smokey, with neon signs on the walls casting colored light onto the packed tables of men in cowboy hats and women in cowgirl boots. When she entered, a man in a trucker hat wolf-whistled at her and she had the sudden urge to turn around and leave.

“Shut up Hendricks or I’ll make you eat your teeth!” Rhett’s voice warned and she looked to where the voice had come from.

She locked eyes with Rhett, who was sitting at the bar, hat on the counter and he smiled at her, giving her the courage to continue walking. If she had thought he was handsome in his bull rider get-up, she was blown away with how he made the most casual outfit sexy. Blue jeans (with an unfortunately large belt buckle), a gray henley and a blue flannel button-up should not have been making her squirm but the way he had the sleeves rolled up to display his muscular forearms somehow made her want to climb him right there in the bar.

This feeling was only intensified when she realized that he was wearing a different blue flannel than he had earlier, meaning he had changed specifically for her. A small voice in the back of her head tried to reason that it was likely just because his clothes had been dirty and sweaty from the ring but she chose to ignore it and allow herself to be flattered he was making an effort for her. He stood as she approached, his eyes briefly skimming over her body to admire her dress before returning to her face.

“Apologies for Mr. Hendricks, he’s an annoying asshole who can’t remember his manners when he drinks but he really is harmless. In about ten minutes he’ll be passed out in his usual corner.” Rhett assured her and she laughed.

“I can handle some cat-calls, it’s when they try to get handsy that I bring out my pepper spray.” she said, partially as a joke but Rhett just pursed his lips.

“Well I can assure you no one around here is going to be bothering you. If your brother isn’t enough to deter them, I’ll make sure they get the memo.” he said earnestly and she smiled.

He pulled back her stool and helped her up, surprising her with his chivalry, so unlike the usual skirt-chasers she ran into at the university. Usually men could barely be bothered to text back and yet here was Rhett, treating her like she was royalty. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d come but I sure am glad you did.” He said as he sat back down beside her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Only if you remember what I told you earlier.” she said coyly, testing how much he had actually paid attention to her at the rodeo.

“Kenny, I’ll have a beer.” Rhett said to the man behind the bar with a slight smirk as he added “...and can you make something like a fruit cocktail? I don’t believe the lady likes her alcohol to taste like alcohol.”

“You remembered.” she said with a laugh as Kenny went to get the drinks.

“You sound surprised. Do city boys not listen well?” he asked.

“Not too many of them.” she replied.

“Damn shame, I could listen to your cute little accent all day long.” he said and she blushed at the compliment.

“Some might argue that you have the accent.” she shot back.

“Not when you’re in my territory, sweetheart.” he said with that dazzling smile that she thought could charm the pants off a nun.

“I suppose you’re right.” she said before Kenny returned with a beer bottle and what she believed was an attempt at a cocktail, setting down in front of her a glass of pinkish red liquid and ice with a cherry on a toothpick hanging off the side. “Thank you.”

“That may be the fanciest thing I’ve ever seen Kenny make.” Rhett said when he left them to talk to a customer further down the bar. “How’s it taste?”

She took a sip and laughed, causing Rhett to ask her what was so funny.

“I’m fairly certain that this is just tequila mixed with fruit punch.” she answered.

“Really?” Rhett asked, amused and she slid the drink closer to him so he could have a sip. “Oh, that is definitely just tequila mixed with fruit punch.”

“I will say, I actually quite like it.” she said, pulling it closer to her again before popping the cherry into her mouth and taking another drink.

“So, how was your first rodeo?” Rhett asked before taking a swig of his beer. “Everything you thought it would be?”

“It was…” she trailed off, unsure how to summarize it all. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been as stressed as I was watching you ride since I presented my thesis idea last year.”

“You were worried about me?” Rhett asked and although his smirk was cocky, she could hear the undercurrent of vulnerability, like he was genuinely surprised that she actually cared about if he had gotten hurt.

“Yes, I was. That bull was like nothing I’d seen all night and the way the announcer talked about it had me squeezing Sarah’s hand probably a bit too hard.” she replied. “But I guess I had no reason to be worried because you made it look almost easy.”

“Well, I am real good at what I do.” he assured her earnestly before smirking and suggestively adding “I’m real good at everything I do.”

“Easy there, cowboy!” she said with a laugh, feeling more comfortable with him after five minutes than she felt with most people she had known for years. He was just so easy to talk to, being effortlessly vulnerable yet continually making her laugh like he was starved for the sound a way a man is starved for water in a desert.

“Just trying to keep you on your toes, girl.” he said with a wink.

“So what do you do when you’re not riding bulls or winking at girls in bars?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I work on my family’s ranch and sometimes if I have time, I hire myself out as a farmhand to other local ranchers when they need it.” he answered. “But the rodeo circuits are my main job.”

“You enjoy being thrown off thousand pound cows into the dirt?” she asked. “Do you just really like pain, is that it?”

“You and your damn wit, girl…” he said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Nobody would ever even know you’re related to quiet old Sam with a wicked tongue like that. But yes, I do enjoy it. Maybe not the pain so much but there’s just something about how exhilarating it feels during those eight seconds. So freeing.”

“Sounds terrifying, I think I’ll stick to bike riding. Or maybe horse riding if I can stop almost falling off the damn thing.” she joked.

“Not having much luck with horses then?” Rhett asked, amused.

“I swear, if Sam wasn’t holding the saddle and walking beside me, I would have fallen off the horse more this week than every rider from tonight put together.” she answered. “I’m trying my best but I don’t think I’m very good at all this cowgirl stuff.”

“Maybe you just need a good teacher.” Rhett said.

“I’m supposed to be on spring break from school.” she replied with a laugh. “I’m supposed to be relaxing and having fun, not learning.”

“Who says you can’t do both?” Rhett purred, his low voice and southern drawl sending a wave of heat straight down to her core. “I mean, you just might need some practice straddling and riding something else.”

“I suppose you have something in particular in mind for your course curriculum?” she asked, leaning in to match his low whisper.

“Maybe one or two things.” he answered with that cocky smirk she couldn’t help but love.

“Then maybe we can start class later tonight…” she said so quietly he could only hear it because she was inches from his face before she pulled backwards into her original sitting position as he groaned and added at normal volume “but I don’t go home with just any old cowboy so let’s hope this date goes well.”

“How am I doing so far?” he asked and she smiled as she sipped her cocktail, ignoring the bulge in his pants that had grown as she had gotten closer.

“Ask me again after another drink or two.” she replied and he nodded.

“Yes ma’am.” he said, eyeing her half drunk drink.

They talked for a long while about their lives, their families, their childhoods. They talked about their favorite music and their hobbies and everything in between they could think of. They were getting to know one another, really hitting it off as the rest of the bar seemed to disappear. As they talked, she had to remind herself not to get lost in his beautiful blue eyes or get distracted by his rugged beauty, so handsome he was like a movie star straight out of one of the old western films her grandfather used to watch. When they had talked so long that her cocktail and his beer bottle were empty, Rhett flagged down the bartender to order another round.

“There’s still one thing I don’t understand.” he said as Kenny placed their second drinks in front of them, nodding a thanks. “Why come out to Wabang, Wyoming for spring break? Don’t college kids usually go to the beach or somethin’ like that?”

“They do. In fact, that’s where most of my friends are right now.” she replied. “But ever since Sam met Jenna and they moved out here, we really only see them when they come over for Christmas and Thanksgiving and stuff. I’d never seen the town that my brother fell in love with almost as much as he fell for Jenna or the little ranch that he’s always talking about on the phone. I wanted to see them all for a little longer than just a few days out of the year. So, two weeks in Wabang sounded pretty nice for a break.”

“And now?” Rhett asked. “Are you disappointed that you’re not on a beach with your friends?”

“Not really… I mean of course I’m a little jealous of all the pictures they’re sending me but Wyoming is really growing on me.” she said earnestly. “And besides, it has some things I couldn’t get on a beach.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” he asked.

“Well there’s one cowboy in particular who’s really caught my eye.” Rhett quirked an eyebrow in amused interest as she continued. “He told me he’d teach me how to be a cowgirl—an offer I’m still considering by the way… oh, and there’s this fantastic cocktail that you just can’t get anywhere but the Handsome Gambler.”

“And how is that tequila and fruit punch treating you?” Rhett asked and she laughed.

“I’ll be honest, it’s better than most of the ‘fancy’ overpriced drinks I’ve ever had at nightclubs with my friends.” she answered.

“I hope you were getting others to buy those for you. Pretty girls should never have to pay for their own drinks.” Rhett said.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” she asked teasingly with a smile.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” he said earnestly, without a single hint of irony and she was taken aback by his candor.

She was so used to men giving cheesy pick up lines and half-baked compliments just so they could get into her pants, that she was thrown off kilter by the realization that Rhett was serious. Evidently, he saw the surprise in her face because he leaned forwards, his blue eyes staring deep into her own.

“I mean every single word. I don’t want you to think that I’m just running my mouth to get you in bed.” he said and she froze under his gaze, struck by just how wrong she had been when she had assumed Rhett was just another player who would say anything to try and get his dick wet. “I mean of course I’d still love to have you in my bed but I really do like you.” She laughed a little at his cheeky addition but was still stunned speechless by his words.

“Rhett, I-” was all she managed to stutter out before blushing and looking down at the bartop in embarrassment. “I really like you too.”

He put his hand under her chin and pushed it upwards to bring her to look at him, his blue eyes holding her gaze intensely.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked with a smile.

“Dance?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah, dancing. They have that in the big cities right?” he joked and she laughed, looking over at the couples on the dance floor doing some kind of slow dance.

“We do have dancing in the city, just maybe not that kind of dancing.” she said, turning back to him. “It’s more like grinding… you have to be pretty drunk to do it.”

“Well, how about I teach you how to two step and you teach me how to grind?” he replied, flashing that mischievous grin again. “It can be your first cowgirl lesson.”

“I will dance with you but I will not be grinding, I’m far too sober for that.” she answered. “So are you gonna teach me how to square dance? Err, line dance? What is it called?”

“I’ll teach you to two step, I think line dancing may be a bit advanced for a first timer.” Rhett said, standing up, putting his hat on, and holding out his hand.

She took it, memorizing every line and callus of his strong hand against her soft skin, and he helped her down from the stool before leading her over to the area that was serving as a dance floor. They got into a typical slow dancing position, her hand on his shoulder and his hand resting on her waist while their remaining hands joined together. He taught her a simple move called a “two step” and then they were off, waltzing around the dance floor as she tried to remain on beat.

He would occasionally give her a pointer or correction but for the most part he praised her for getting a hang of it fairly quickly. They kept up that simple routine for an entire song and by the time the final notes of “Head Over Boots” played, she no longer had to focus on counting and her steps, instead able to simply enjoy the feeling of his hand on her lower back keeping her pressed up against him.

“Alright darlin’, this next one is a little bit faster.” he warned her with a smile as the next song began to play. “You up for the challenge?”

“Bring it on, cowboy!” she replied and he smirked.

“Alright, I warned you.” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye that made her weak at the knees, distracting her so that when he spun her out and around before reeling her back in, she was caught completely off guard.

She laughed, trying (and failing) to avoid stepping on his boots as she adjusted to the new pace and the added spins but after another song or two, she had acclimated to the dancing quite well. As “Why Don’t We Just Dance” ended, they were both breathing hard through wide grins, her heaving chest pressed against his, grateful to discover the next song was a slow song. They switched from two stepping to simply swaying, catching their breath as some melodic crooning about “Tennessee Whiskey” relaxed them against one another.

“Has anyone ever told you that your hat is sexy?” she asked once their heart rates had returned to normal and their breathing evened out, looking up at him.

“Once or twice.” Rhett replied with a smirk.

“Well, in that case…” she said before reaching up to grab his hat, pulling it off his head and placing it on her own. “How do I look? Sexy?”

“I- err… yes, you do look sexy.” he said, a look on his face somewhere between surprise and nervousness.

“You look like I just took a baseball bat to your truck headlights or something. What is it? Do you not like people touching your hat?” she asked, starting to get a little nervous that she had somehow fucked up in her lame attempt at flirting.

“No… it’s just, uh, around here a girl putting on a guy’s hat means… something special.” Rhett answered.

“Something special?” she asked.

“It’s like a… well, an unofficial rule that if a lady takes a fella’s hat and puts it on herself, then she… she’s supposed to go home with him at the end of the night.” replied, his usual cocky demeanor missing as he seemed nervous to tell her.

“Oh…” she said, understanding the full meaning of what she’d just done.

“But you didn’t know and I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so I’ll just take it back.” He said, taking his hat off of her head and placing it firmly on his own, reaching his hand back out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s a stupid tradition anyways. Just backcountry nonsense, really.”

She could tell that he seemed nervous, like she’d suddenly just slap him and storm off for daring to suggest that she had to sleep with him. She stared deep into his eyes, touched by the adoration and concern in them, genuinely caring if he had upset her. She took a breath to prepare herself for what she was about to do before launching up onto her toes, throwing her arms around his neck, and pressing her lips to his.

He seemed caught off guard for a moment before smiling against her lips as he deepened the kiss, his hands tightening around her waist to hold her closer. The kiss was so good that she almost forgot why she had initiated it in the first place, reaching up to snatch his hat off of his head, pulling back in his arms to place it firmly on her head with a wink.

“Oh no… It looks like I just have to go home with you tonight.” she purred coyly, giving him a smirk before leaning in and adding lowly “Or I guess you could come home with me since my hotel room is probably closer than your house and I just can’t wait to get my mouth on your cock.”

Rhett looked absolutely stunned, completely in awe of the gorgeous minx in his arms.

“God damn, woman…” was all he could manage to say, tipping the brim of his hat on her head up with a finger so he could hungrily kiss her again, one hand on her waist and the other on the side of her neck.

He kissed her like a man possessed until her chest was heaving against his, breathless from his affection when he pulled back and smirked at the dazed look on her face as she gazed up at him.

“I gotta get you outta here.” he growled before pulling her off the dance floor and towards the door, hand tight on her waist as he called out for Kenny to put the drinks on his tab.

It seemed like half the bar was staring at them as they exited, focused on Rhett’s hat on her head, but she couldn’t find the energy to care as Rhett looked back at her with a devilish grin that made tantalizing promises for when he got her alone. He held the door open for her as they left the bar and his warm palm was flat against her back as he steered her towards the passenger door of a blue pick-up truck. He opened the door for her and leaned in for another kiss, desperately missing the feeling of her lips against his. He had meant for it to be quick, he really had, but they simply couldn’t stop once they’d started. Her hands looped around his neck and into his hair as his hands wandered the silhouette of her body before settling on her ass with a small squeeze. She pulled back to catch her breath and put a hand on his chest as a signal to stop.

“You’d better get me to a bed, Rhett. I’m too classy to let you fuck me against your truck… well, at least not for our first time.” she said with a wink before turning to hop up into the passenger seat.

“Yes ma’am!” Rhett replied smugly as he closed the door and hurried around to get in the driver’s seat.

As he started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot, his hard cock ached, straining almost painfully against the confines of his jeans. The air was thick with sexual tension, the only noises being an old country song playing quietly on the crackly radio and the rumble of the engine. Rhett stared straight ahead at the road because he thought if he glanced at her, he’d likely have to pull over the truck and take her right there on the roadside in the bed of his truck. But he kept himself in check, thinking that she was the kind of girl who deserved to be fucked on the softest bed he could find.

He only lasted about a minute of driving before one of his hands moved from the steering wheel to rest on her thigh, toying with the hem of her dress just above her knee. His fingers wandered her thigh as he slowly pulled her dress up to reveal more and more of her bare skin. She shifted in her seat, squeezing her legs together as she tried to ignore the ever-growing wildfire of desire within her core that hadn’t given her a moment’s reprieve since it had sparked during their first kiss.

“What have we here?” Rhett asked as he caught a peek of her lacy panties as the fabric of her skirt bunched up at her waist.

The hungry rasp in his voice sent a shiver of attraction through her body and she dug her nails into the seat of his truck, gripping so hard that her knuckles were surely turning white.

“How’d you know that’s my favorite color?” he asked with a smirk and she sucked in a breath as his fingers skimmed over the waistband of her panties, and she felt as if they were miles away from the place she wanted him to touch.

“Oh god Rhett, please don’t tease.” she groaned as his wandering fingers advanced towards her clit but retreated just shy of reaching it.

“I’ll take care of you darlin’, just be patient.” he assured her, fingers trailing teasing patterns into the lacy fabric above her pussy. “Fuck, you look so sexy just sitting here all hot ‘n bothered in my truck in your pretty little dress with my hat on.”

She whined, desperately wishing for his fingers to move just inches down to relieve her burning need. Rhett’s teasing had frustrated her enough that she decided to take matters into her own hands, or more accurately, his. She grabbed his hand and pushed it down in between her legs, giving a sigh when she felt the slight pressure against her clit. Rhett chuckled but before she could ask what was so funny, his deft fingers pushed her panties aside and plunged two fingers deep into her wet core. She gasped in surprise and her hands flew to clutch his wrist as he began to slowly drag his fingers in and out.

“So impatient…” he tsked, plunging even deeper. “Do I need to tie your hands up so you’ll be a good girl?”

His words sent a thrill through her body and her pussy clenched at the thought, her walls squeezing his fingers as she let out a slight moan. Her reaction surprised Rhett and he decided to test a theory, still pumping in and out.

“Oh, you like that? You like the thought of being tied up?” he asked, voice low and rough. “You’d look so fucking hot all trussed up in my lasso.”

Once again, her pussy clenched and he chuckled. She was getting wetter by the second and he knew she was just as into the idea as he was.

“Is that what you want, girl? You want me to bring my lasso to bed? Tie you up and take you over and over until you can’t even think?” Rhett asked, stopping his movements completely when she didn’t answer, too lost in the feeling of the delicious drag of his fingers. “I said, is that what you want, girl? I won’t do shit until I know exactly what you want me to do to you tonight.”

“Yes! Oh god yes, Rhett!” she cried out, hands squeezing his wrist as if it would make him continue his movements. “I want you tie me up and fuck me so good, please Rhett!”

“There you go, darlin’. Good girls who use their words get rewarded.” he said, adding a third finger and resuming his movements as she gave a breathy moan. “Fuck, you feel so damn good around my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock. So god damn wet too, all this for me?”

She couldn’t even answer with anything more than a moan as he finger fucked her but Rhett knew the answer already. His thumb swirled her clit as his fingers thrust in and out of her cunt at a relentless pace and she could hardly breathe as her climax quickly approached.

“Rhett!” she exclaimed, her hands gripping onto his arm as the waves of pleasure finally began to crest.

“Shh, I’ve got you girl.” Rhett tsked like he was trying to calm a spooked animal and it only made her pussy clench down on his fingers harder as she orgasmed. “I don’t know what kind of small city boys you’ve been fucking in the past so I gotta make sure you’re ready to take a big country boy like me.” He rode her through her orgasm, giving one last hard thrust just before it ended and curling his fingers to reach that perfect spot inside before pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth. She watched breathlessly as he sucked his fingers clean of her juices, humming in content as he pulled the truck into the hotel parking lot.

“If you can make me cum like that with just your fingers, I don’t think I’ll survive tonight.” she said and he smirked.

“Let’s see how long you can last riding on my cock. Maybe you’ll make it more than eight seconds like a true cowgirl.” he joked with a wink before hopping out of the truck and heading around to her side.

Still catching her breath, she was vaguely aware of him grabbing something from the truck bed and when he opened her door, she found him hanging his lasso on his belt. She turned to hop out only for Rhett to grab her by the waist and pull her out, setting her down between him and the truck. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss that slowly built in intensity until she was so caught up in the feeling of his tongue that she just barely noticed Rhett spinning her away from the truck and closing the door, walking her backwards towards the motel. They paused briefly so she could gasp out her room number and take the keys out of her pocket, which Rhett quickly took before he resumed steering her in the right direction.

Luckily, her room was on the first floor so they didn’t have to use the stairs, which would have been impossible with the way they were stumbling around blindly, connected at both the lips and the hips. They fumbled their way down the hallway, bumping into walls and doors as they made out with a ferocious hunger for one another. Evidently, Rhett became impatient with how slow their progress to her room was and he begrudgingly pulled his lips off of hers. Before she could whine or ask what he was doing, she suddenly found herself hoisted over his shoulder, looking down at his delicious backside as his strong arms anchored her thighs to his chest.

“Rhett!” she squealed in surprise and he silenced her with a light slap on her ass.

“Hush now girl, wouldn’t want to wake the other motel guests, would we?” he said smugly as he carefully leaned down to grab his hat from off the ground where it had fallen from her head when he had thrown her over his shoulder.

He put the hat back on his head as he hurried down the hallway to her room, briefly swearing as he fumbled with the keys to unlock the door. He swept inside, kicking the door closed behind him and flicking the light switch to turn on the lamps as he headed straight for the bed. She expected him to toss her onto the bed like a sack of potatoes with his hurry and ferocity but was surprised when he carefully laid her on the bed like she was the most fragile and precious thing he had ever touched. Her heart fluttered at how special it made her feel. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes as he chucked off his flannel and his boots, dropping them on the floor before setting his hat and lasso on the bed.

“Didn’t think you knew how to be gentle, cowboy.” she said cheekily, her breasts rising and falling as she caught her breath from the excitement and Rhett smirked as he pulled off her shoes and discarded them.

“I can be gentle if that’s what you want, sweetheart.” he said as he slowly and carefully climbed on top of her, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her face even as he caged her beneath him. “I can be whatever you want, darlin’. Gentle…” he purred, pressing feather-light kisses to her neck, a smile on his lips just barely ghosting over her skin before he moved to her ear. “Rough…” he growled before surging downwards to give her a bruisingly hard kiss that took her breath away before pulling back and leaving her gasping for air, blinking up at his smug smirk. “Somewhere in between…” he said as he returned to her neck, applying a light pressure as he tongued a spot that would surely be a hickey the next morning. It was just perfect and a long moan escaped her mouth involuntarily, her arms wrapping around his neck and threading her fingers into his hair with light tugs and Rhett chuckled against her skin. “Ah, there it is.” he said smugly.

“Don’t stop!” she cried out and he complied, returning to tonguing her skin. “Fuck, Rhett, don’t stop!”

Rhett’s mouth explored every inch of her skin from the top of her neck to the cleavage above the neckline of her dress, taking stock of what spots made her mewl and squirm the most. He pushed her dress straps aside so he could press tender kisses onto her shoulder, finding a particularly sensitive spot near her collarbone that he spent extra time teasing. His hands slipped beneath her body and began to unzip her dress, only getting halfway down her back before the zipper got stuck. He pulled it again but annoyingly it held fast. He yanked it once more, grumbling in frustration against her neck when it refused to come loose.

“Slow down there cowboy.” she warned and he pulled away from her skin to look at her. “You rip my favorite dress and I’ll cut up your favorite hat.”

“Darlin’, I’d like to see you try.” he replied with a smirk but nevertheless his movements slowed to carefully finish removing her dress, the zipper finally giving way and letting him pull it all the way down.

He slipped the fabric off of her body, reveling as more and more of her body was revealed to him, inch by tantalizing inch. He admired every curve, astonished with how she only seemed to get more and more attractive the less clothes she had on. He divested her of her bra much easier than he had with her dress, able to do it one-handed and without looking from a lot of practice. As her breasts were freed, her hands went to cover them instinctually, looking shy and nervous although he simply couldn’t understand why.

“Don’t hide from me sweetheart.” he coaxed, gently pulling her hands from her chest and taking in the sight of her bare breasts and stiffening nipples. She was gorgeous and he felt like he was looking at a goddess, unable to comprehend why she would ever think she was anything other than perfect. “You’re so beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I mean it.”

She sucked in a breath at his lovely words and the almost irreverent look in his eyes as he gazed down at her body in admiration and she was caught off guard when he stooped down to return to kissing her, capturing her lips with his own before she could even have a moment to think of a response. Without the fabric of her dress as protection, the cold metal of his ridiculously large belt buckle teased her bare skin as it was pressed between their bodies and she wouldn’t be surprised if the next morning, she ended up with an indentation of it there on her stomach.

She realized that Rhett was still completely dressed while she had been stripped all the way down to only her panties. Wanting to even the playing field a bit, she grabbed at the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up, Rhett pulling back from the kiss to remove it completely, tossing it aside. She marveled at his well-toned abs, her fingers skating along the hard lines of muscle. She chuckled at the tattoo of a man riding a bull that he had on his right pec, the black ink a stark contrast to his sun kissed skin even in the low lamplight of the hotel room. He had a bruise on his ribcage that was forming and he knew it would hurt like a bitch in the morning but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he watched her eyes devour him.

“Doesn’t hurt much right now, sweetheart.” he assured her. “This was one of my luckier rides, not as beat up as I usually am even though Napalm was a real mean son of a bitch. Maybe you’re my lucky charm.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” she asked tentatively when he winced as her fingertips grazed the tender skin.

“A little.” he answered, dipping down to whisper in her ear. “But I don’t really notice it when I have you to distract me.”

“Guess I better get to distracting then.” she replied with a smirk before latching on to his neck, determined to leave a mark on him to counter all the ones he had given her.

“Tryin’ to mark me up, girl?” he asked, half a chuckle, half a moan. “Let everyone in town know you’ve staked your claim on me?”

She laughed but was cut off as it suddenly turned into a moan, his hands grasping at her breasts. She found herself unbelievably turned on by his wandering hands (and mouth) as they continued to make out, pausing occasionally only to suck a hickey into the other’s neck before returning to their mouths. With his shirt off, her hands were able to explore his body, memorizing the feel of every inch of his skin under her fingertips. Feeling his erection straining against the confines of his jeans as he ground himself against her, she let her hands trail down his body to his belt.

She mentally cursed him for having such a ridiculously large belt buckle, making it ten times harder than it needed to be for her to undo it. After trying and failing a few times, she groaned in impatient frustration, tugging at his belt in angry desperation. She felt him smirk against her lips and before she had time to react, Rhett grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. She gasped in surprise and wiggled fruitlessly in his grip as he pulled back to admire the sight of her below him.

“Your hands are getting in my way, darlin’.” he scolded playfully. “Do I need to get my lasso out or can you behave like a good girl?”

“Hmmm…” she said, pretending to think before replying with mock innocence. “I’m not sure if I can control myself, Rhett.”

“You sure sweetheart?” he asked seriously, giving her an out she didn’t need.

“I’m sure.” she replied.

“Gonna need a safeword, darlin’. Got one in mind?” Rhett asked, trailing a finger down her front teasingly and she thought carefully for a moment.

“How about ‘Napalm’…” she said, a sly smile spreading on her face. “You know, in the hopes you can last longer than eight seconds with me.”

He laughed and said “I think I know how to put that wicked tongue of yours to better use…” before pulling her in to roughly kiss her.

She got no warning before he ended the kiss as suddenly as it began and he moved to sit up on his knees, roughly flipping her over before returning to straddle her. She didn’t even have time to gasp or whine as he pulled her hands behind her back and leaned over to grab his lasso. He arranged her arms so that they were one on top of the other with her elbows against the opposite wrists before beginning to wind his lasso around them as if he was making a design of some kind.

As he worked, she groaned at the sensation of his clothed erection against her ass. Her head was pushed against the mattress, the cool sheets cushioning her cheek and teasing her hard nipples. He smugly hummed a tune that she eventually recognized at the song that had been playing in the truck on the ride from the bar. She moved her arms and shoulders around slightly to test how sturdy his work in progress was and he reached around to pull her head up slightly, a careful but firm hand on her throat.

“You really need to learn how to behave, sweetheart.” he growled into her ear and she felt a shiver run down her spine in anticipation. “If you can’t stay still until I’m done, I’m gonna leave you tied up to make you watch me jerk myself off and you won’t get to cum again tonight. Got it?”

“Yes.” she replied breathlessly, his hand around her throat gentle to not hurt her or cut off her air but still firm enough to remind her he was in charge.

“Yes, what?” he asked, squeezing just a miniscule amount so she had to take slightly deeper breaths to answer.

“Yes, sir.” she replied and he removed the pressure on her throat so she could breathe normally again, his hand only serving to keep her head up.

“Good girl.” he cooed, pressing a soft rewarding kiss onto her shoulder before lowering her back down and resuming his work.

She stayed still, just enjoying the feeling of the coarse rope on her skin until her arms were completely bound together and Rhett was seemingly pleased with his work.

“Is that too tight, darlin’?” he asked.

“It’s perfect.” she answered before smugly adding “Sir.”

In seconds, he had her flipped back over onto her back, her arms trapped beneath her but she obediently stayed still, gazing up at him faux-innocently as she waited for his next instruction.

“Alright darlin’, test it out.” he ordered smugly. “See if my ropework is adequate enough for your high city standards.”

Following his instructions, she tried to pull her wrists free but only succeeded in wiggling her upper half. With her shoulders back, her chest was pushed out and Rhett seemed very pleased at the sight of her wriggling form, her breasts jiggling lightly. He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb against her lips teasingly before moving to run his fingers over her nipples.

She was helpless, but in the best way possible. She liked–no, loved–being at his mercy, completely reliant on him to provide for her pleasure. It was strange, she had never given anyone that kind of power over her in bed, not even long-term lovers, she just didn’t trust them. But for some baffling reason, she was not only comfortable but eager to give Rhett, a man she had met only hours earlier, that power.

“Perfect.” Rhett said, so quietly it was almost as if it was to himself, as he gazed down at her and continued to drag his fingernails over her nipples until they were stiff with arousal. “God, you look so fucking perfect all trussed up in my lasso.” Embarrassed by his praise, she averted her eyes as she felt her cheeks heating up but he simply pulled her chin to look back at him. “Don’t hide from me, girl. You need to know just how perfect you are.”

She had no reply, stunned speechless, only able to respond by surging upwards as much as she could to kiss him passionately. He immediately reciprocated the urgency in her kiss, his tongue parting her lips before delving deeper into her mouth. He was laying above her, hands on either side of her head supporting his weight as he wedged his knee between her thighs, pressing directly against her core. Slowly, she began grinding against it, her only way to bring even a fraction of relief to her aching cunt with her hands tied behind her back. She rocked against his knee several times before Rhett realized just what she was doing, pulling back to watch but leaving his knee in place. She wiggled and whined at the loss of his mouth against hers, helpless to do anything but continue humping his knee like a bitch in heat.

“Darlin’, you look so hot trying to ride my thigh like it’s a bull.” he growled as his blue eyes fixed on her intently.

“I’m not an expert like you, I think I might need some pointers…” she said, batting her eyelashes at him sweetly as she continued to desperately buck her hips, feeling the rough denim of his jeans even through the thin fabric of her panties.

“I think you're right, and I do believe I promised you some cowgirl lessons.” he replied smugly.

Carefully he pulled her up with him, sitting against the headboard with his legs spread obscenely as he pulled her to straddle his thigh. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his cowboy hat, placing it upon her head as she narrowed her eyes at him with an amused curiosity.

“Can’t ride without the hat, darlin’.” he said simply and she opened her mouth to reply but was cut off when his strong hands grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto his thigh so she would moan. “Go ahead and let me see what I’m working with.”

His hands fell from her hips to lie beside him, watching her with hungry eyes as she began to ride his thigh, chasing enough friction against her core to bring her relief. Strangely, she didn’t feel nervous or self-conscious anymore. She had thought that she’d feel silly dry humping Rhett’s jeans like a bitch in heat but when he looked at her the way he did, she just felt sexy. She bit her lip to contain her moans as she shifted her hips back and forth, up and down, and everything in between. Her head fell back slightly but she pulled back up just in time so as not to drop his hat.

“How am I doing? Passing for a cowgirl?” she asked after a minute of dragging herself against his thigh over and over again.

“You’re a natural, sweetheart.” he said, gazing up at her reverently. “Only thing I can teach you is to use your thighs too, not just your hips.”

“Like this?” she asked, continuing her movements but clenching her thighs down against his to keep herself steady.

“Perfect…” Rhett replied, leaning forwards to press sloppy kisses on her breasts as she rode, his large hands warming her skin as they returned to her hips and then traveled up her sides to assist in his assault on her breasts.

“Fuck, Rhett…” she moaned, struggling to keep her rhythm as she got ever closer to her climax, control of her body slipping away as her stamina ran out but her need increased.

Evidently, Rhett noticed her beginning to struggle, dragging his hands back down from her breasts to grab her hips and guide her movements, taking over when she was getting too close to the edge to keep it up. With his grip bruisingly hard on her hips, he helped to keep her riding through the intensely pleasurable waves of her orgasm when it hit suddenly.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you.” he assured her as she got lost in the feeling, throwing her head back with a loud cry, his hat flying off her head and onto the floor. She panted, her chest heaving as her orgasm ran its course.

“Good girl.” Rhett purred and despite having just cum, she felt a stirring in her core once again at those words, her body seemingly not satisfied with just the one soul-shattering orgasm.

She slumped forwards in exhaustion against his chest, unable to push herself back up with her hands still tied behind her back. He let her sit there for a moment to catch her breath, her head still spinning as he kept an arm around her waist to pull her against him and keep her grounded, his other hands stroking her hair comfortingly. When she had had enough time to reorient herself, he carefully laid her back down onto the bed, her bound arms trapped uselessly between her body and the bed once more.

She whined, wiggling in disappointment as he got up out of the bed and he paused to lean over and inspect her panties, now drenched with her cum. He traced just the tip of his finger against the fabric, chuckling when she lifted her hips to chase his hand as it retreated.

“Look at that, darlin’... fucking soaked. Even got a little on my pants.” He said before he shucked off his jeans, discarding them to the floor and returning to his place in between her legs. “Sweetheart, are you particularly attached to this pair of panties?”

“No…” she answered, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Good. I’ll buy you a new pair.” he said, with only that serving as a warning before he literally ripped them off her and she gasped, half in surprise and half in desire. “Well if that ain’t just the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.”

“Rhett, I need you…” she moaned, feeling particularly empty as admired her cunt.

“Think you’re ready for me?” he asked and she nodded vigorously, pulling his dick out of his boxers to let her see it for the first time.

Rhett smirked as her eyes widened at the sight, well aware of how above average his dick was and reveled in people’s stunned reactions when they saw it. ‘Of course’, she thought looking at his large member, ‘Rhett not only had movie star looks but he had been blessed with a porn star cock as well’. From his position kneeling between her legs, he let his cock rest on her abdomen, showing her just how deep he would go when fully seated inside of her. It was intimidating but she felt as if she’d explode if she didn’t get it inside her soon.

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked again, tapping his cock on her stomach, a bead of precum leaking from it’s head onto her overheated skin.

“Yes Rhett, please!” she whined, wiggling in her bonds desperately.

“Want me to wear a condom? I swear on my mama’s life I’m clean.” he assured her.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, Rhett, please just fuck me.” she begged impatiently.

“Shh darlin’...” he said quietly, amused at her desperation but still reaching down to stroke her hair out of her face. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. Good things come to girls who are patient, sweetheart.”

“Rhett, please let me touch you, please, please, please.” she babbled and he shushed her again.

“Alright, alright, sweetheart. Take a breath.” he said, reaching under her to untie the ropes expertly with one hand and without a minute, she was free.

Immediately, her hands went to his body, touching every inch of his bare skin that she could, surging upwards to kiss him as if his lips were the air she needed to breathe. She pulled back for air and he cupped her cheek with one hand, the other by her head holding his weight off of her.

“Ready for me, darlin’? He asked, the head of his cock resting against her entrance and she nodded vigorously. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He entered her slowly and she gasped, feeling suddenly as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. Rhett moved at a glacial pace, giving her time to adjust to the feeling of his large cock stretching her open. He groaned as he felt her walls squeeze him, grunting when he finally bottomed out in her hot, wet cunt. He stayed still, giving her a minute to get used to the feeling of being stretched so deeply, resting his forehead against hers and murmuring encouragement and praise. He wiped a tear when it fell from the corner of her watering eyes and pressed a sweet kiss onto her lips, reminding her to breathe.

“You alright sweetheart?” he asked lowly and she took a breath, beginning to feel the discomfort fade and the pleasure return.

“Yes.” she said, gazing up into his blue eyes as he smiled down at her.

He began slow, pulling out almost all the way only to push back in at an agonizingly slow pace, increasing the speed just a miniscule amount with each thrust. When he bottomed out in her again after a few thrusts, she moaned and her legs went instinctively around his hips, heels digging into his ass like she was trying to keep him from pulling out.

“Faster, Rhett, please.” she moaned and he obliged, setting a steady pace as he thrust in and out.

As he sped up, she clung to him like a lifeline in the sea, tugging on his hair and raking her nails lightly (for the most part) across his back. The wet slapping noises of their bodies meeting rose in intensity, his grunts and her moans growing louder and louder until it was all she could hear. As he pounded into her, she threw her head back and closed her eyes in ecstasy. Never before had she been fucked so good and so hard and she was surprised at just how much she was loving missionary position, reveling in the intimacy of it instead of the impersonal and quick doggie style fucks most guys went for.

She could feel herself getting closer to the edge and evidently Rhett noticed too as he slipped a hand down between their bodies and rubbed circles on her clit, sending her crashing over into her third soul-crushing toe-curling orgasm of the night. Rhett wasn’t far behind, the feeling of her clamping down on his cock as she screamed in pleasure being enough to push him over the cliff, the pace of his hips stuttering as he came hard buried deep in her cunt. He groaned as he emptied himself into her, taking a moment to breathe and memorize the feeling of her around him before he pulled out and sat back on his heels. He watched in stunned awe as his cum mixed with hers, dripping out of her hole and onto the sheets.

Satisfied with himself, he smirked when he saw her staring up at the ceiling in a dazed bliss, glassy eyes and wide smile on her face. He put on his boxers and went to the bathroom for a washcloth and a glass of water. She vaguely registered him cleaning her up, coaxing her to drink from the cup and felt chaste kisses on her wrists as he confirmed she didn’t have rope burns. She had never felt so satisfied, her mind a pleasurable fog as he put his flannel shirt on her, buttoning it up before he clicked off the lamp and settled into bed beside her.

“You still with me, darlin’?” Rhett asked, pulling the sheets up to cover them both.

“Yeah… I just…” she replied, trying to force her brain to form coherent sentences instead of reveling in the post-orgasmic haze.

“Never been fucked like that by a city boy?” he asked with a grin that revealed he already knew the answer and she laughed as she turned her head to look at him, thoughts finally clearing up.

“Three orgasms in one night? No, no one’s ever done that.” she replied as he reached across her to grab her waist and hold her closer, her hand going to trail mindless patterns on his arm as she spoke. “Usually I’m lucky if I can get one that I don’t have to do myself.”

“That’s a damn crime.” Rhett said. “You deserve to be getting them morning, noon, and night… and a few in-between for good measure.”

“I gotta say you’re pretty good at pillow talk.” she replied.

“It ain’t just talk, sweetheart. You should be waking up with a mouth on your cunt every morning.” he said and she laughed, unsure if he was joking or not.

“I’ve always wanted to wake up like that.” she mused.

“Then that’s how I’ll get you up tomorrow morning.” Rhett replied and when she gazed into his blue eyes and that devilish grin, she knew he wasn’t kidding, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine.

“Careful cowboy, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” she said with a smile as she curled closer into his arms with her head on his chest, slowly letting sleep overtake her as she listened to his steady heartbeat. She was so exhausted that she wasn’t sure if she imagined him pressing a soft kiss to the top of her forehead just before she fell asleep.

She thought it was a dream at first, the feeling of a tongue lapping at her folds, a nose bumping against her clit. It felt heavenly, like she was an angel floating among the clouds, with only two strong arms anchored around her thighs to ground her and keep her tethered to reality. She sighed out a breathy little half-moan and heard a deep chuckle from the mouth at her core, the vibrations against her wet cunt only intensifying the sensations before the mouth retreated from her entirely.

“Ah, there’s my pretty little city girl wakin’ up for me.” A deep voice rasped and she opened her eyelids, still heavy with sleep, to find Rhett grinning up at her like a devil between her legs, the lower half of his face glinting with her slick.

“Rhett?” she asked sleepily. “What are you doing?”

“I promised you I’d wake you with my mouth on your cunt…” he replied. “And I always keep my promises.” He winked before licking a strip on her clit that made her throw her head back and moan.

Surprised that he was not only willing, but eager, to eat her out she moaned for him to continue. He obliged obediently, sucking at her clit as she begged for him not to stop, his strong arms anchored around her thighs to keep her wide open for him. With one hand tugging on his hair and the other gripping the sheets hard, she orgasmed, chanting his name like a prayer as she came on his face. Rhett dutifully rode her through the waves of her orgasm, smiling against her cunt as he was pleased with her pleasure. He licked one last stroke over her folds as she panted in the wake of her orgasm.

He climbed up her body to give her a hungry kiss, the taste of her still on his lips making her head spin before he pulled back.

“I think I just proved I was telling the truth when I said I’m real good at everything I do.” he said

“Are you always this humble?” she laughed.

“Modesty is overrated, sweetheart.” he replied, smiling before he kissed her once more, his fingers swiftly unbuttoning her flannel to give himself better access to her breasts. “My shirt looks better on you than it does on me… but I think it’d look even better on the floor.”

She giggled against his lips as he pulled it off of her, tossing it onto the floor as he continued to play with her breasts. His phone buzzed on the nightstand and he groaned as he rolled off her to check it.

“Fucking Perry…” he muttered and she laughed, remembering he had told her Perry was his older brother. “One sec darlin’.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, taking the time to ogle at his naked torso in the daylight. His bruise was getting worse and she was noticing more in other spots that she hadn’t seen before in the low lamp light. His bull rider tattoo on his right pec looked even better now that she could make out all the little details. She had marked him up with some hickies, no doubt in her mind that she looked much the same. Realizing she had to use the bathroom, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge, pausing to look back at Rhett when he asked where she was going.

“To the bathroom and then maybe a shower, that alright with you cowboy?” she asked sarcastically and he shook his head and smiled.

She went to stand up but her legs were too wobbly and she began to fall, Rhett lunging forwards to catch her, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her back up onto the bed, now sitting right behind her. He laughed and she could feel his chest rumbling against her back, clearly proud of himself for contributing to her current state.

“Not funny, Rhett.” she scolded, shaking her head as she was unable to stop herself from smiling.

“You seem to very clumsy sweetheart, that’s twice now I’ve caught you while you’re falling.” he joked. “Maybe I make you a little weak at the knees, huh?”

“Asshole.” she laughed, shoving him away before he swept her off her feet and began walking her to the bathroom, her arms quickly flying around his neck.

He carried her to the bathroom, depositing her on the toilet before stepping to the sink to get a drink. After she finished her business, she stuck her head out the door and batted her eyelashes at him.

“Wanna join me in the shower, cowboy?” she asked coyly and he smirked as she crooked a finger towards him.

“I believe I’m obliged to, someone needs to keep you from slipping and falling again on your shaky little legs.” he joked as he walked to the shower and turned it on.

She should have known that having just an innocent shower was impossible with Rhett Abbott. What started as him washing her back quickly turned sexual when his hands wandered down to her ass and she found herself yet again being railed within an inch of her life by him. Afterwards, she shooed him off so she could wash her hair without him trying to seduce her again and once he ensured that she could stand on her own with a cheeky little smile, he hopped out to get dressed while she finished her shower. When she walked out of the bathroom covered only by a towel, Rhett tried to steal her it to make her laugh before they began making out once more.

“I wish I could just spend all day between your legs.” he groaned, trying to pull himself away from her so he didn’t do just that. “I could show you all the different uses for my lasso that are way better than roping cattle.”

“Tempting offer but I think my brother would break down the door thinking I was in trouble if I didn't come out.” she said with a laugh as she patted his chest and playfully pushed him away. “Speaking of which, you’d better get out of here before he comes to pick me up.”

She quickly got dressed, spying him slipping her ripped panties from the previous night into his back pocket with a cheeky smile out of the corner of her eye.

“Excuse me sir, are you stealing my panties?” she asked with a laugh.

“Well ma’am, I have to know what size and brand to get you for a replacement.” he replied smugly. “That’s all it is.”

“Oh, that’s all is it?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she pulled him against her by his belt. “It wouldn’t be because you want a souvenir of your conquest? Because I don’t think it’s very fair that you get one and I don’t.”

“Well, I could give you my boxers but going commando for a day of ranch work might be a little painful.” he said and she shook her head. “So, how about this as a souvenir?” Rhett asked as he placed his hat on her head.

“So if cowboy law says that a girl taking a cowboy’s hat and putting it on her head means she’s going home with him, what does a cowboy taking off his hat and putting it on her head mean?” she asked and he smirked.

“You’ll have to find out by going out with me again tonight.” he replied.

“Hmm.” she said, pretending to think about his offer. “I guess I might be free tonight for some more lessons. Besides, I told you last night that I wanted to get my mouth on your cock and I still haven't so I have some promises to keep too…”

“Damn it woman, you’re really gonna make it real hard for me to leave aren't you?” he asked and she laughed.

“I’m certainly making something hard.” she said with a smirk as she trailed a hand down to palm his hardening bulge before stepping away to open the door in feigned innocence. “See you tonight, cowboy.”

“Can I get your number before I go, darlin’?” he asked as he stepped out the door and a sly smile grew on her face.

“Check your shirt pocket.” she said with a smirk and a wink before closing the door, leaving him dumbfounded on her doorstep when he reached into the pocket of his flannel and pulled out a slip of paper with her number on it, knowing that he’d truly met his match.

Looking through the peephole, she watched him walk towards his truck, a slight spring in his step. She could hear him whistling even through the door and down the hall and she laughed when she realized that it was the same song that had been playing when he fingered her in the cab of his truck, the same one he had been humming when he had been tying her up.

Peering out the curtains of the window, she watched him drive away, her brother’s truck passing Rhett’s exiting one as he entered the parking lot and she could swear that she saw her brother staring Rhett down through the windshield. Quickly, she got dressed and ready to go before heading down to the parking lot, deciding to leave Rhett’s hat on her head to mess with her brother. Sam was checking his phone when she hopped in the front seat, Jenna and the kids in the back seat.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully and he nodded as he glanced over at her, returning his eyes to the wheel before they shot open in surprise and he had to do a double take.

“Whose hat is that?” he asked sternly. “That had better not be Rhett Abbott’s.”

“In an attempt to stop you from having a heart attack, I’m choosing not to answer that question.” she replied, barely able to hide her smug smirk at her brother’s panic.

“Good for you, girl!” Jenna cried, leaning forwards from the backseat between her children’s car seats to pat her sister-in-law on the shoulder. “Domesticate that wild cowboy.”

“No!” Sam said quickly, turning to look at his wife in stunned disbelief. “There will be no ‘domesticating’ any cowboys, especially not Rhett Abbott.”

“We’ll talk later…” Jenna mouthed to Y/N with a wink as she sat back in her seat.

Sam sighed grumpily, his face contorting into a frown as he shifted gears and pulled the truck out of the parking lot and down the road towards their ranch.

“Auntie Y/N, can I be the flower girl at the wedding?” Sarah asked suddenly from the back seat and Sam just about jumped out of his skin.

“WHAT?” he panickedly sputtered, Jesse laughing at his dad’s reaction. “Sarah Ann Y/L/N, what are you talking about?”

“Wearing someone else’s hat means that you like like them.” Sarah replied, cheerfully. “Chrissy and the older girls told me that her big sister was wearing a guy’s hat and the next week they got married!”

“If there’s a wedding, do I have to wear my sunday clothes?” Jesse whined. “I hate them, they’re so itchy!”

“No one is wearing sunday clothes because no one is getting married!” Sam insisted, his wife and sister struggling not to laugh at how virulently against even the suggestion of his little sister marrying the so-called “manwhore of Wabang”.

Y/N was so amused that she didn’t even try to reassure her brother that she was not going to be getting married after one date, but she also didn’t mention her second date with Rhett later that evening, deciding to give his heart a rest for a while as she thought about what cowgirl lessons Rhett might teach her that night.

[amyispxnk]

It Hurts to be Something, Chapter 1 - Watch the Carnage Unfold.

Joel Miller x f!reader

Series summary: You and Joel were separated the night Cordyceps overtook the world. 20 years later, you finally find eachother - but things won't be the same as they were before.

Chapter Summary: A day that was supposed to be filled with fun and surprises ended up to be the beginning of the end for the world as you knew it.

A/N: WOOOO IM DOING A SERIES HERE’S THE FIRST CHAPTER IM SO SCARED TO POST

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: fluff, pet names, kissing, blood, mention of guns, infection, death

Series Masterlist || Next Chapter

DO NOT COPY THIS WORK IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

7:15AM the red numbers on the clock blinked as it beeped at a painfully loud level of noise.

“Alarm!” Sarah shouted as she banged on Joel’s bedroom door as he blinked himself awake. “Yeah, thanks honey!” He called back as he gently shook you to wake you up too.

“Hey.” He smiled at you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes as you blearily looked up at him. “Gotta get up. ‘S almost 7:30.” He told you.

“Oh, shit. Okay, thanks.” You mumbled as you tried forcing yourself up and out of the bed, but it was so warm.. You just wanted to stay there forever. You couldn’t bring yourself to get up.

“C’mon sweetheart, we gotta go.” He said with a chuckle at your sleepy state.

“Fine.” You groaned as you got up, stumbling over to the bathroom and getting yourself ready, washing your face and brushing your teeth as Joel came behind you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing soft kisses to your neck which made you giggle slightly.

“What?” He grinned.

“Your beard’s all tickly.” You smirked as he let out a laugh before trailing more kisses on your body, making you laugh as you playfully pushed him off. He leaned back against the wall of the bathroom and watched you get ready, admiring you. Even without makeup and all that other shit you felt like you had to put on he thought you were the most gorgeous woman in the world.

“You gonna keep starin’ or you plan on getting ready too?” You teased as you started brushing your hair.

“Why can’t I admire my pretty lady?” He countered as you tilted your head at him, giving him a look.

“Because Sarah needs to go to school and I need to get to work and - So. Do. You.” You poked him in the chest with each word to add emphasis before ushering him to go shower and get ready too.

After about 20 minutes, you both came down the stairs. As soon as Sarah saw you she immediately commented on how slow you two were, and what the hell were you doing that took so long?! The language she used in the latter sentence earned her a stern glare from Joel as you laughed at her and prepared breakfast. There was no pancake mix, much to your dismay, and Sarah thought it was a great idea to make eggs whilst waiting for the two of you. You were scooping the eggs out of the pan when you saw not one, not two, but almost a dozen pieces of eggshell in there.

“Sarah, honey, how on earth did you manage to get all these shells in here?” You asked with raised eyebrows as you dug out another piece of shell. “What!” She laughed. “It’s extra calcium, for your old bones.” She teased as she walked up to you and grabbed herself a plate, barely sitting down before digging in and scoffing the food.

“Woah, woah there - calm down, don’t need you chokin’ this early in the mornin’.” Joel said as he sipped from his mug of coffee, kissing you on the cheek as you gave him his food and then sat with them at the table to eat.

After some of chatter about school, friends, how the contracting is going, Joel’s birthday - the topic making you and Sarah give each other a cheeky glance as you remembered what you had planned for him and making Joel look at you both confusedly - and so on, you all finished breakfast and you put the dishes away, doing some final checks on the house like checking the windows were locked and making sure the pink camellias Joel had gotten you were watered properly, before you all got into Joel’s pickup truck; you swore it was going to fall apart one of these days, paint peeling and engine sputtering for a good 20 seconds as Joel tried starting the damn thing up.

Eventually, it started to work and you all drove to Sarah’s school. You helped her out and offered to walk her up there - an offer which she swiftly denied, telling you that it was embarrassing and no one else did that, causing you to raise your hands in defence as you laughed at how worked up she got over it.

“Alright, alright. I’ll see ya later, okay?” She nodded and gave you a small smile, but you couldn’t help yourself and leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before walking away. She tried looking annoyed but she secretly loved when you did things like that with her, it was sweet.

You waved her goodbye and Joel started the truck up again, driving to your workplace.

“I told you you don’t have to drive me to work everytime y’know.” You said as you neared the hospital.

“Uh-huh, and I want to anyway. Not lettin’ you take the damn bus to work every mornin’, saves money that way and it means I get t’ spend more time with ya.” He grinned.

“That’s true.” You agreed as the car came to a stop in the parking lot.

“Okay, I’m gonna go then. You don’t needa pick me up today, gotta get your birthday party ready early and we all know you’re gonna take ages.” You smirked as you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

He tipped his head back against the headrest with a small groan. “Y’ still so adamant about that, huh?” He said as he looked to you sideways.

“Hey, it’s not just me! Sarah’s been wantin’ to do it for so long too, got some special stuff planned for ya.” You grinned, before getting out of the car.

“Fine. I’ll see ya later then.” He said, getting out of the car and kissing you one final time before getting back in the car and driving to his worksite.

10:39PM the analog clock on the wall of the reception at the hospital ticked as you looked up at it. Less than an hour left. Of course they needed you to work extra today, and of course you had to say yes because money is money and you want to look good in your department anyway, and this would show you could work hard. It’s fine though, you’ll still probably be home before Joel anyway.

People were filing into the hospital just as your shift was about to end a few hours prior, and they told you they needed you to stay. Something about people twitching like crazy, groaning and gurgling, with no clear reason as to why - so they needed you and as many people as they could to try figure out what the hell was going on and sort these people out.

No more than 5 minutes later, there was a crash and a shriek from one of the examining rooms and you rushed over with a few other doctors. One of them, Sam, opened the door and let out a yell similar to the one you’d heard before. When you went to see what was going on, the patient lurched onto him and pushed him to the ground, sinking its teeth into his neck before you could even process the sight before you in the room.

The doctor who was performing the examination in there was bleeding out onto the floor, flesh torn and teeth marks visible on her neck. Her eyes were wide and frozen, cold without any emotion in them anymore as her lifeless body lay there. You were positively horrified, and although you wished you were braver in that moment, you weren’t. You left Sam to die, figuring there was no way to save him and not wanting to take a chance if there was.

You didn’t even grab your bag, you didn’t even get out of your PPE or anything as you rushed out of the hospital, leaving the utter carnage that had erupted inside behind you as you took off down the street. You had to get home, you had to find Joel and Sarah and make sure they were okay. You’d hole up inside or something, surely he had a gun there, you’d be safe together, they just had to be okay.

You turned down the street and barely managed to shield yourself from an explosion of flames coming from a car which had crashed into a building, completely blocking your path. Shit, shit, shit. You didn’t have another way to get home which was fast enough - you couldn’t get to them in time without completely risking your life, and what would be the point if you got attacked and bitten?

Turning down a street corner, you found a store which had the shutters down but a side door which was cracked open the slightest bit, and you darted for it, not even thinking if any of those things were inside.

You rushed in and slammed the door behind you, panting heavily as you looked around. Noone was there. You searched for any stairs that might lead to a second floor which could have people on it, but there were none. You were safe for now, but you needed to get back onto the street, you needed to get home. Maybe there was a gun here, or something that would be useful. You needed protection if you were to get back.

You searched behind the counter and let out a sigh of relief when you found a handgun and some boxes with ammo inside the drawer with it, quickly pocketing them and peeking outside the shutters of the store. Still a total mess out there, you had to formulate some sort of plan before just running out if you didn’t want to get killed.

Your eyes darted around the scene before you until you saw an alleyway which had a sign with your neighbourhood name on it. Of course, how did you not think of that? There were a multitude of small streets that could help you get home.

You checked your gun one last time before bolting out of the store and running to the alley, pushing past screaming people on your way. You shoved a gate open at the end of the alley and you were about to turn onto the next street when you saw one of them, its back turned to you before it let out a growl and began to turn around. You hastily pressed yourself back against the wall, just behind the corner, concealing yourself as best you could and thanking God when it ran past you down the other way.

After what seemed like hours, you finally made it home. You pushed the door open and screamed for anyone - Joel, Sarah, even fucking Tommy, to no avail. You searched every room, praying for no bodies and you guessed your prayers had been answered when no one was there. That was good, but now you were alone. You looked around and noticed Joel’s coat was back on the hanger, meaning he’d gotten home already. That means the two of them were at least together, and probably safe too since Joel knew his way around a gun.

You paced around for a minute or two as you tried to gather your thoughts and figure out what to do.

You decided that you had to try to find them, even if you thought they were safe, you had to know.

Searching the house didn’t bring you many resources and you walked back out onto the street, if you could get out of the city.. Find somewhere with less people around, less of these sick people that could get you infected too, you’d be safe. That’s probably what Joel was thinking when he left, at least you hoped it was as you made your way out of the neighbourhood and as far away as you could get from Austin.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! This is the beginning of my first series ever and God I hope it’s good. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated and requests are open. 💞

[deliciousangelfestival]

My Problematic Girl-Chapter 7

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Words Count: 1,200,-

Prologue:  Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery. 

But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

A/N: In chapters 6 and 7, we will learn about Y/N's background story. 

×××

She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma. 

She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”

Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured, 

“Woof.”

******

I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me. 

You can tell me if you want to join the tag list. Don't be shy 😘💖💜💙

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9,-

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Y/N has never stepped into the Solomon house again since that day. Brian became a famous lawyer all those years, and his image as a loving husband and father towards Sophia and Sarah always appeared in the newspaper since Sophia was a socialite. 

One day, on her 15th birthday, her father called her. She thought he had realised his mistakes, but she became more disappointed. 

It turned out he asked her about the share from Starks company. Back then, Stark was just a small company, but now it has become an industry and beat Solomon company. It was unpredictable and put shame, especially on the main family of Solomon. They want some share from the Starks. 

Brian remembered his deceased wife owned a share at the Starks industries. How surprised he was when he discovered that Evelyn was the top main shareholder, and she gave it to Y/N. 

He wants it. 

Y/N rejected him upfront. He has taken everything from her, her mother, and her ability to play the piano, and now he wants to take the last gift Evelyn gave her. 

“Don’t you ever feel sorry about your wife?"

"Your anger means nothing because it doesn't change anything."

"Don't you know what today is?"

"What?"

"Today is my birthday."

There’s no guilty expression on her father's face. He typed his phone without looking at her. "Do you want to have dinner here? I'll call Sophia and Sarah."

Y/N scoffed. "Goodbye, Father."

"You should've said see you again. It seems like you don't want to come back here." 

She ignored him and left. Nothing here made her feel at home as long as she stayed with Stark's household; that's enough. 

She should've made that wish in front of the birthday cake with a candle to make it come true. 

Because Howard and Maria got into a car accident three days after her birthday, the bridge they drove through collapsed.

Tony couldn't accept his parents being gone. He searched for the answer and found an inspection about what there was. The quality of the materials is poor. And another important clue is that the company responsible for building this bridge is Solomon construction company. 

He already has the evidence, but the court denied the case. Say the evidence is not enough. That must be her father doing.

Y/N want to burn the Solomon company to the ground. But she remembered her anger was useless. She needs a bullet to shot. 

Solomon became untouched after her father joined the family. No law can bring them down. That means she has to understand their mind and her father. 

"I will go back to that house to find the evidence."

Tony shook his head. "No, you will die if you stay there." 

"Whatever it takes to find the evidence."

Y/N went back to the prison house and became invisible. If she has to suffer, so be it to find any document related to her mother, Sophia's first husband and the collapsed bridge. 

But she got nothing. 

Then there are left 2 options—the document could be in her father's law firm office or with Maximus. 

Since then, Y/N has studied all the time to become a lawyer. 

But then her father said no. She must enter medical school at the Imperial University to become a doctor. 

"You want me to become a doctor to help your stepdaughter if she finds any difficulty at the university."

"That's right. Both of you need to help each other. Your grade is more than enough to enter the Imperial University."

"No, you want me to be her loyal dog like you with that woman. I don't owe anything to these people!!!"

"Y/N, just listen to what I said for your good."

"Fuck you!!!"

Y/N clenched her fist even though it was painful. 

She doesn't want to be a doctor. It was Sarah's dream, not hers. 

Y/N must save her place as a law student; to do that, she must meet Maximus.

Her father underestimated her. Not just him who knew how to blackmail; she also got dirt on that old man. That was the first time she learned that blackmail was useful. 

Her trick worked, and she entered law school without any problem, and there she met Brock Rumlow. A bright and friendly person. Both of them start as friends, and he is always there when she feels down. 

With one goal in her mind, Y/N was able to graduate faster than her classmates and join her father's law firm. 

At her father's law firm, Y/N didn't find anything that related to the case, but she found a clue that Maximus had it. 

But before she met Maximus, she got kicked out from the family because of the case she handled vs Imperial University, and she rejected the engagement with Brock Rumlow after she found out he's been with Sarah all this time. 

"How does it feel to lose?"

She hates it.

"You could ignore me as your father, but you can't deny my blood ran in your veins."

"It's true, but I won't be a loyal dog like you."

Brian smirked. "In this world, you need power to survive and not be underestimated. Kindness won't make me rich, Y/N."

"Is that why you left your wife? It's never enough for you!!!"

Brian sighed, he loves Evelyn, but it's not enough. He wants more. He doesn't want to live as middle class for the rest of his life. Especially with his job as a lawyer. Reputation is important in the industry. 

When he met Sophia, a stupid but ambitious woman, he admired her greed and honesty to get whatever she wanted, and she could hear it because she was a Solomon. 

His biggest regret is that Evelyn found out about his cheating. If she stayed quiet and did not ruin his reputation at his office, they wouldn't fight, and Sophia would only be his mistress. 

Brian wishes his daughter could have the same view as him, but it's difficult to tame her. 

"If you just sit still, you could enjoy the good life of being Solomon."

How? All he ever did is taken everything from her. "When you die, I'll laugh on your grave."

"If you make another problem, I will make you lose your lawyer’s license and send Lilly somewhere else, and you'll never find her."

Y/N snapped; there's no right and wrong to her anymore. She approached her father, her hand reaching his neck and strangling him. "Just once, please be a father to me."

"Uurgh." Her hands are on his neck, but why does she have difficulty breathing? 

"Y/N!!!"

That voice. Steve? She looked right and left, but where was he?

"Y/N!!! Wake up!!!"

When Y/N opened her eyes, she was confused; her eyes weren't accustomed to brightness. Her hand covered her eyes. "Steve? What are you doing in my place?"

Steve's hands hold her shoulders, "Tony called me. You don't realize you have a seizure in your sleep?"

Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

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I will always be grateful for those who reblog. Thank you so much.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, - Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9,-

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[j0elmill3r]

Im not sure if you got my earlier ask because tumblr said I can't send in links anymore in anonymous asks (which sucks because why did they remove that feature???) but the link was basically referring to your earlier post regarding your latest fic,

I think joel would react pretty cold and distant when he initially finds out what sarah named her, he'd probably see her as his baby girl because of just how much she reminds him of his own daughter that he lost :( and sarah eventually speaks up about it which is probably part of her and joels falling out, they probably got into a huge argument which was a huge wake up call to them both that they've actually lost baby girl so theres no like turning back :(

(sorry if my previous ask did send in after all, keep up the good work, i rlly love ur works esp the baby miller series !!!)

YES!!! I love this so much!!

So Sarah obviously just wants to keep your memory alive, and what better way to do it than giving her daughter your name.

She definitely thought Joel would appreciate the gesture - but it's so far from the truth - That's his baby girl's name, no one else's.

He doesn't have the heart to say anything because Sarah's so excited, so he just tries to distance himself at first because it still hurts too much to think of you - especially since he sees so much of you in Sarah's daughter, especially as she gets a bit older.

Sarah notices how distant Joel's getting and it makes her upset because she still needs her dad, especially as a first-time parent.

And then when she brings it up, Joel doesn't appreciate it, which results in a screaming match between the two, ending with both of them in tears as they came to realise that you were actually gone.

They both knew that you were gone, but they hadn't accepted that you were gone, especially Joel - He hadn't been able to properly mourn your death in the years since it had happened.

Sarah carried more guilt with her - in the couple years following the outbreak she often wished it had been her instead of you, she would have had a better chance of survival than you ever did - You were so small, and remembering your painful death always made her hold her daughter that little bit tighter.

So Joel and Sarah aren't on speaking terms for a while. That is until Sarah's daughter's first birthday, when Sarah, having done a lot of soul-searching, decided to let bygones be bygones.

She had told Joel the exact same thing she had been telling herself recently -That no matter how much mourning they did, or denial held over your death would bring you back, that you were gone and there was nothing they could do to get you back to them.

[theeblackmedusa]

Hello!

If you're feeling a little stuck with writing, may I suggest a little microfic? It's around 200 words of anything :)

Please would you try Joel Miller x black!reader and a meet-cute in the supermarket?

a good deed

a/n: hi, @deadhumourist! thank you for the suggestion! i had fun with this one🫶🏾🫶🏾

summary: joel does his good deed for the day

warnings: minors dni, language, no outbreak, fluff, fluffy fluffiness, reader has a daughter

wc: 647 (i tried the 200 words and it just wasn't working out lol)

As she pushed her cart down the empty aisle, her eyes finally set on her target. Her daughter’s birthday was coming up and instead of spending hundreds on a dinosaur princess cake, she decided to make it herself. She’d gotten all the ingredients for the cake. Now, she just needed three tubs of pink frosting.

Unfortunately, her final item was on the very top shelf. While she wasn't necessarily short, she wasn't quite tall enough to reach, but she’d find a way to get up there if it meant giving her daughter the perfect birthday cake.

Inhaling, she tied her braids back and started her climb.

An aisle over, Joel Miller, carpenter and full-time girl dad, was raiding the shelves of Scooby-Doo gummies, Oreos, and Popcorn for her daughter's movie night and sleepover. He’d been hesitant to agree to it, not very keen on the idea of six fourteen-year-old girls screaming and giggling in his house all night, but he was no match for Sarah’s big, brown puppy dog eyes.

As he shopped, his attention was shifted from the criminally unhealthy snacks on the shelf to the humming that came from an aisle over. It was slightly off key and constantly interrupted by “Oh shit, don't fall.”

Curiously, he pushed a box on the shelf out of the way and got a view of the next aisle over, which was occupied by a woman around his age struggling to scale the shelf in a way that would definitely be a concern to the store’s legal team if she fell.

Joel sighed, hearing his daughter's voice in the back of his head. “It's good to do one good deed a day.”

He decided that this would be his good deed.

“Need help?” he questioned when he’d finally pushed his cart from his aisle to the one that she was on.

She jumped in surprise at the voice, causing Joel to rush behind her to make sure she didn't fall. Not that anyone was keeping count, but he was going to have done two good deeds in one day.

“Um, yes, please,” she replied after she stepped down and got her bearings back.

Joel nodded, clearing his throat before reaching up and grabbing the frosting.

She looked up at him as he did so, eyes not missing the way his shirt slightly rode up and showed his stomach. When he grabbed the frosting and looked to her, she quickly averted her gaze.

“Two more, please?” she requested shyly as he handed her the first tub.

Retrieving the second and third tubs, he smiled down at her.

“Let me guess, daughter with puppy dog eyes that you can't convince yourself to say ‘no’ to?” he questioned knowingly.

“Talked me into a dinosaur space princess cake. How about you?” she asked with a soft laugh.

“Sleepover,” he sighed, eyes rolling in exhaustion.

She nodded, giving him a smile that made his heart stop.

“Good luck with that one,” she told him. “Thank you for the help!”

Joel nodded as she turned away to leave.

“Don't forget a crumb coat when you make the cake,” he spoke again, mentally kicking himself because he probably sounded like another man who wants to spread his knowledge about unimportant “skills.”

She turned and her eyebrows furrowed.

“I don't even know what that is,” she laughed.

Relief flooded through him that he was actually being helpful, but before he could explain, she spoke again.

“Can I give you my number? Maybe you can talk me through it later?” she suggested, a flirty smile on her features.

Joel could've sworn he had an out of body experience. He wasn't sure that he'd still had it. In all honesty, he assumed that the exhausted single dad look was no good for dating, but he must've been wrong.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll call you tonight?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

[wise-0ne]

Please: PART ONE

SUMMARY: ~𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀, 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙋~

After Sarah died, Joel found his new happiness. He loved his daughter, Hailey.

But when the unexpected comes, he's in need of help and happiness.

What will Joel do when he loses the people he loves?

Joel Miller x Daughter o/c

No trigger warnings just swearing.

You can't live in fear here. It just doesn't work that way now, or that's how my dad put it. These days, living in fear is a weakness. Living in fear will get you killed. Fear is not an option.

I was born after the outbreak. I'm 16 years old, my birthday was yesterday. It's 2023 and everything is just as bad as when it started. City's ruled by FEDRA, raiders, smugglers. Nothing is safe.

Even though I feel safe, I'll never know if I am. I know that as long as I have my parents, I'm safe. My parents made a promise to me when I was 6. They told me that they would never let anything happen to me as long as they were here. Luckily, for ten years, they've kept that promise.

My dad, Joel, had a daughter. Her name was Sarah. She was his ray of sunshine and my dad loved her more than anything. But Sarah was shot back in 2003 when the outbreak happened. My mom said he wasn't happy, nice, kind until I came.

When he found out my mom was pregnant, he told her that it was a bad idea to keep me. I was a one night stand baby. My parents were best friends and they got drunk one night.

He didn't want the same thing that happened to Sarah, to happen to me. He was scared for my mom and me. He didn't want to lose more people than he already lost, so he tried to convince my mom to get rid of me. Obviously it didn't work.

But when I was born, he was a different person. My mom, Tess, said he was so happy. From what I've been told. When he first laid eyes on me, he cried and said I was a miracle. His miracle.

Since then, he's always made sure I was safe and protected. I'm not allowed outside without him and I can't go with them anywhere that isn't in the QZ. They never let me outside until I I turned 15 because kids were supposed to be in the FEDRA school. They didn't want that for me, so they kept me locked up in our apartment.

I know they want to keep me safe, but it gets annoying. Knowing that I'm safe and loved makes me feel better about that though.

I love my dad and my mom. They would do anything for me, and by anything, I mean anything.

They are smugglers, so I am home alone sometimes, but they always have someone check on me. They usually have something to bring back to me. No matter if it's food or games, I'm always happy.

I love my parents, and if I were to lose them. I don't know what I would do.

__________________________________________________________________________

It was a long day of sitting inside, reading, and watching the civilians walk around while I sat on the couch in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment. The bedroom is not even really a bedroom. More like an open space with a wall. It was small, but in the QZ, we're lucky to even have this apartment. There are people who live on the streets, so we are really lucky.

The QZ is very full and most people don't have a lot. Like us. We live off of food rations, cards, and whatever my parents smuggle in. I'm very glad we are here. Dad said if we weren't, we'd be dead.

Both of my parents are working, and I was inside, alone. I was used to being alone in the daytime, but I made sure the door was locked at all times. So I was safe. You can't trust people.

Mom and dad were gone most of the day. I knew dad picked up an extra job, and mom was out dealing with things. For all I know she could be dead, but I know she isn't.

I was sitting on the couch, reading, when the door knob rattled. I looked up and saw the door swing open. It was my dad. He looked mad, he didn't see me and he just walked into the bedroom. I put my book down and scoot over to the other side of the couch so I could see what he was doing. I heard him stomping and then he bent over to move the dresser that covered his stash of stuff hidden under the floorboards.

Under the floor was some maps, an axe and more things that he kept hidden.

I watched him pull out a map and then he walked into the kitchen area and sat down with a map at the table. Dad was obviously mad about something, so I know not to bother him. I adjust myself on the couch and watch as grabbed his bottle of bourbon and stared at the map. Pointing and dragging his finger on the map, he sighed and took a drink. He drank half the bottle and didn't even look back at me.

I watch him put his hand on his forehead and sigh. I know he's stressed and angry. I wish I could help him in some way, but I don't want to make things worse.

I watched him take some pills and without looking at me, he got up, went to lay on the bed, and passed out.

This was usually the routine when he was having a hard day. He has a lot of those.

I then got up and walk over to the bed. I check his breath make sure he's alive. He's kinda old so I worry. And while he slept, I cleaned the apartment. I cleaned the table, did dishes, and organized the cabinets to keep me busy. I waited for mom to come home, but eventually, I sat on the couch and drifted to sleep.

Usually, we all share the one mattress we have. It was big enough for all three of us, but I didn't want to wake him up. He needed sleep.

__________________________________________________________________________

In the morning, I woke up to my mom making tea. I stood up off the couch and rubbed my eyes. I stumbled a bit but walked over to the kitchen. My dad walked into the room at the same time I did.

Sitting down at our table, I looked at my dad. He sat at the other end of the table and he was hungover and looked tired. My mom then walked over to us. I look up at her while she sets a cup of tea in front of me.

Her face looked terrible.

"Mom, your face," I say in a concerned voice.

Her face was bruised and cut. She had a black eye and looked terrible. She then sat down by my dad.

Dad looked over at her. His face said it all. He was pissed.

He slammed his hand on the table and almost got up.

"I got jumped by a couple of guys." She said calmly. Grabbing his hand

"What guys?" my dad questions her.

"Just a couple of teenagers." Dad then grabs her face.

"Said some shit probably shouldn't have," Mom said while my dad moved her face around. He then got up. My mom grabbed her cup and took a sip.

"Come on. You know these guys were born after the outbreak. Never learned how to argue." She said trying to calm him down.

"They just start swingin'." She took another sip.

"Fuckin' 19-year-old pieces of shit." I chuckle.

It's always funny when she those jokes. She made them a lot because she knew they made me feel better in these types of situations.

My dad came back over to the table. He had a bottle of alcohol and a towel.

"It's a miracle you're alive." He says while he pours some of the alcohol on a towel, he gently taps her face, making sure not to hurt her. She chuckles "It's a miracle any of us are alive."

I take a sip of my tea. I know my mom wasn't safe at the time, I was just lucky she was now. Honestly, I don't know what I would do without her.

As my dad tapped her face, he turned her head, "These aren't new."

"No, I was in FEDRA lockup all day."

Dad pauses. His face looks confused.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter." My mom says. She then takes a breath and grabs my dad's hand.

"I need you to take a breath," she says calmly

"What?" My dad says, putting down the towel.

"Joel-"

"What?"

She takes one more breath "The guys who jumped me were with Robert." She pauses.

"He sold our battery to someone else."

I set my cup down and hear my dad's chair scoot back. Looking over at them, I see my dad put his face in his hands.

"What the fuck." I say angrily.

"Nothing is lost. Shit like this is gonna happen. Now we shake it off and get our cards back or the battery." She says looking at me and my dad.

"We need the battery, Tess," Dad says and slams his hand on the table. He gets out of his chair and walks over to the bedroom.

"Trucks no good without one." He yells "And if I don't get to Tommy soon, he's gonna die out there."

"Okay, Fuck it. We get our money back, and the battery." She says, getting up out of her seat and walking over to dad.

"But Joel listen, Robert is terrified of you." She looks him in the eyes. "If you go to him about this, he's gonna get wind of it and skip."

I then get up out of my chair and walk over to them. I sit next to my dad. I lay my head on his shoulder, "Take a breath." I tell him. He looks at me with sadness and anger in his eyes.

While still looking at me, he asks mom "Who'd he sell it to?"

"Don't know."

"Well, where is he?"

"Don't know... Yet" She says.

"But we're gonna find out quietly."

"Understand?" she asks my dad. He nods and looks at the floor.

"Now I promised Robert you wouldn't hurt him, but I would very much like for you to hurt him," Mom says smiling.

She gets serious again, "So let's go hunt that mother fucker down, and get our battery, and our truck and go find Tommy." she takes a breath "Alright?"

My dad nods again "Alright."

Mom gets up and walks over to the other side of the bed.

I pick my head up, and my dad leans down to get his gun.

[hypnotisedfireflies]

A Social Pariah

@poetic-justicesong sent me some wonderful Joel & Sarah prompts.  I dipped my toe into an early snapshot of their life in Mermaids and it’s a bit of a challenge for me, but it’s fun to push myself so I really want to dig into these.  I’m keeping them as separate posts rather than posting the ask itself, otherwise I might lose track without it floating in my inbox. :)

This is compliant for both DD and SQ.

1/? : The first time Joel has to be strict with his discipline with Sarah, where she usually has him wrapped around her finger.

The sound of Sarah wailing permeated the very foundations of the house.  It broke through her sealed bedroom door, bounced down every step and circled round and round Joel’s head like gathering rain clouds.  He ran the dishcloth under the faucet and squeezed it out, bouncing his fist up and down in midair as the little droplets escaped through his fingers.  He took his time cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, alone.  That chore was usually shared between Joel and his daughter but there weren’t no way she was gettin’ her little ass downstairs to help tonight.  No, that was a bridge too far. 

He'd thought that by the time he washed, dried and put away every dish that Sarah would be through with her tears.  But they just kept comin’ and they were giving Joel a stomach ache.  His unspoken mandate of raising a little girl who’d never want for anything or have reason to cry was at war with the fact that she had to learn the hard lessons, too. 

All grown up at eight, Sarah had been counting down the days to Poppy’s birthday party.  They were going to the roller rink, the one styled somewhere between the 50s and a John Hughes movie.  That rockabilly nostalgia of the 1980s which had given boys cheap leather jackets to sweat through in summer and poorly-styled DA hairdos.  Tommy had gotten pretty good at sculpting his own hair like that back in the day.

But then Sarah had broken the carnival glass lamp.

Look, the lamp didn’t mean much to Joel.  It was kind of ugly, bright red puckered with little golden orbs in two ornate little tiers.  It was only in the house because it had belonged to his mother, but Joel didn’t pour his attachment into such things.  People and memory were what mattered, not stuff, and certainly not stuff that looked like that.  He didn’t remember his mother having any particular feelings about it either – or his father – which was probably how Joel had ended up with it in the first place.  Luis had just brought it around one day while he was cleaning out his place and left it behind.  In most of the intervening years since, it had lived in the closet.  Joel had only taken it out recently because … well, they needed a lamp in the lounge.

So breaking the lamp wasn’t the problem.

Once the backsplash was wiped clean, Joel’s soft heart could no longer be overruled and he trudged upstairs to give Sarah one, final chance.  She wanted to go to the roller rink party so much.  It was tomorrow, Dad.  She had made her choice but she was … well, she was bringin’ the house down and making him feel like the worst father alive, so he decided to try just one more time with her.

Joel knocked on her door.

“Go away!”  Sarah sobbed dramatically on the other side.

“I’m comin’ in,” Joel told her and counted to ten, just in case. 

When he opened the door she was sitting on the side of her bed with Hoppy, her wallaby plushie, in her lap.  He was very wet.  Sarah’s face was streaked with tears and she looked so goddamn morose.  The world had ended.  She would be a social pariah. She wouldn’t know any of the stories the other girls told at school on Monday.

He sat beside her with a big, sympathetic smile.  He poked Hoppy.  “He’s getting’ a shower.”

“He says you’re the worst,” Sarah sniffled.  “Meanest dad ever.  You don’t even like that stupid lamp!”

“No, I don’t,” Joel agreed.

“You’re so mean!”

“But you know what I like even less than the lamp, huh?”

“I’m not lying! I didn’t break it!  I didn’t break your stupid lamp!”

He nodded slowly.  There was no sense arguing with her:  the lamp had been intact when Sarah started dancing along with MTV and when Joel came back from the garage five minutes later, it was in pieces. I didn’t do it!

“Last chance, babygirl.  Come on.”

All she had to do was tell the truth.

“I didn’t do it!”  She wailed. 

She’d dug herself in way too deep to give up now.  Being caught in the lie and maybe getting a stay of execution was preferable to admitting it.  She had just come too far.

Joel tapped Hoppy’s nose and came to his feet.  “Guess you’re stayin’ home with me tomorrow.”

“I hate you!”

“And next weekend, too.”

“I hate you!”

He closed the door on her and this time, as he went downstairs, he felt decidedly less guilty.  A real hardass wouldn’t have given her so many chances.

Sarah tried again in the morning.  She’d slept on it and reckoned with her predicament differently.

“I’m sorry I broke the lamp,” she said solemnly, standing before him as he drank his coffee.

He was glad to hear it, but he also wasn’t as dumb as she probably thought he was.

“Okay.  Thank you for tellin’ me the truth.”

“… can I go to the party, now?”

“The deal was on the table yesterday, baby.”

“What?!”

“When I ask you something, you tell me the truth.  Not the next day.  Not in your own time.  When I ask you.”

She gaped at him.  “Dad!”

“So next time – ”

“You don’t even like that stupid ugly lamp!”

“Nope, but I don’t much like you lyin’.  Ugly habit, Sarah.  Thought you and me were a team?”

“I hate you!”

She burst into fresh tears and dramatically flung herself up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door shut.

Joel slurped his coffee and turned the newspaper to the sports section.  “Sure, you do.”

[operationfortune]

Okay I know this post will gain absolutely zero traction but the more I think about it the more I want to cry about it??

slight spoilers for one of the character arcs in Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre ahead,,,

So I saw Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre in the cinema today. I was alone, it was reasonably full, the film technically only opened two days ago, and it's wider release isn't for another week, but I had time to kill and it was the only thing that piqued my interest. It sits in an interesting spot tonally, comparative, I'd say, to Netflix Exclusive Michael Bay movie 6 Underground, though to use a more recent marker I'd drop it somewhere near Bullet Train (though it's definitely much closer to 6 Underground). All this context to say that I went into this Jason Statham-lead espionage action movie with zero expectations and almost completely blind.

So please believe me when I say I was truly blindsided with joy to have canonical, casual queer representation in this Jason Statham-lead espionage action movie.

Maybe it's that I don't watch a lot of media now, but it's something I noticed while watching Glass Onion too, both with Benoit and Hugh Grant (ha, put a pin in that) and especially with the character of Peg, and it makes me a bit teary and excited when I think about it. There's something to be said for how far we've come, to the point that Casual Queer Rep is even possible. There's something about watching Peg get all flustered talking to Helen and knowing that it's because she has a crush, without it having to be flagged, spelled out, or otherwise othered by the film or its writing.

It's normalised.

Which I know shouldn't be a big deal, but right now, to me, it is. I didn't realise I could feel this way; to see a full character who just so happens to be gay, where the plot doesn't revolve around her being gay, but that part of her identity is still made clear?? I love Peg so much holy shit.

But Glass Onion is the second in a series that has established itself as a forerunner for casual diversity. Let me tell you about how Operation Fortune made me want to YELL in theatres.

It's the 8th of January, and it might be a bit early to call it, but Danny Francesco might be my favourite character of the year.

Is he perfect? God no, he's objectively not a great person; he's sleeping with his sister-in-law, he's a Hollywood diva, he's demanding, and he (spoilers, seriously) ends up engaged to a war criminal. Who happens to be the main antagonist. Who happens to be Hugh Grant. Danny is the light of my life, however, and I love him with my whole heart.

So in the beginning we're told that Danny turned down $10m because he didn't want to jump out of Greg (Hugh Grant)'s cake and sing Happy Birthday; whatever, I thought, Greg is a rich, eccentric with an obsession with celebrities, and Danny is the biggest star right now, I shouldn't read anything into it because Sometimes Rich People Just Do Things For Status Reasons. We're also told, and subsequently shown, Greg tries to take celebrity's partners/girlfriends. Cue Sarah (Aubrey Plaza) in a bright red dress that I will dream about for the next month.

Also, in the scene where Danny, Sarah, and Orson (Jason Statham) are joining the fancy party, there's some distinctly fruity vibes between the three of them, but I'm not here to push my Orson/Sarah/Danny polycule agenda, just know that I have one.

So obviously Greg is excited to see Danny, but later makes a Very Distinct Pass at Sarah, inviting both her and Danny to stay with him for the weekend, with an implied Wink Wink Nudge Nudge.

While they end up taking him up on that offer, Danny, who started the film having refused Greg's Rich Weirdo Request, and now having to spend time with him for the job, finds that he actually genuinely likes Greg, who appears to genuinely like him back, doting on him, even giving him gifts.

When Danny says to Sarah "(I'm paraphrasing, about Greg) he's really into you! If you don't take him up on his offer then I might!" my eyeballs were Out Of My Head. Like sure it sounds like a joke that would be written in to simply highlight Danny's materialism, a whole 'gay for pay' joke, something about his vanity, or even just an offhand joke that I might hear one of my straight friends who were super comfortable and confident in their sexuality say about their best friends, I was So primed for this to be something that the audience could laugh off or dismiss in hindsight. Like in my mind that solidified my headcanon of Danny as bi, but I was so used to queerbaiting and years of being told I was reading into things.

So as the plot continues, Danny's fondness for Greg goes on, turns into something incredibly genuine, and looking back, he clearly has a hero-worship crush on Greg by the end of the film.

The last shot we see of Danny and Greg is the pair of them getting into an elevator after Greg pulls a stone cold power move on the films secondary antagonists, which he had Danny assist with for flare after Danny asked specifically to stay with him for that event. In the elevator, Danny tells Greg that that was "the coolest thing he's ever seen someone do" and that's the last we physically see of them.

HOWEVER!! THE ICING!! THE CHERRY!!

At the very end of the film, one of the protagonists mentions how he's gone into the film industry, and the response he gets is;

"You better not be talking about Danny Francesco and his fiancee Greg Simmonds!"

an accurate depiction of me as the credits began to roll;

WE WIN THESE!!

BOTH DANNY AND GREG ARE CANONICALLY BI/PAN IN THIS JASON STATHAM-LEAD ESPIONAGE ACTION MOVIE IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2023!! THEY BOTH LIVE UNTIL THE END!! THEY'RE ENGAGED!! THEY'RE BOTH ABSOLUTE DISASTERS!! THEY'RE BOTH FULL, ROUNDED CHARACTERS WHO HAPPEN TO BE QUEER!!

I get choked up thinking about it now, considering how quietly overwhelmed I felt in the theatre realising that Danny and Greg's comments and moments throughout the film weren't some elaborate joke, the dialogue that reminds me of my friends, the moments that felt true to my life as a queer person, they werent the setup for any kind of homophobic mixup, miscommunication, or microaggression; no, I finally, actually felt like I saw a part of myself, of my community represented in media.

Everyone in that movie is terrible in their own way, but Danny and Greg just happened to be terrible people who are also queer. Are they perfect representation? No! Thank fuck! I think we deserve more dumbass, disaster, unethical queers in media.

Even if I don't necessarily recommend this movie (it's pretty okay if you're a fan of the genre I suppose), I subjectively love it and especially it's characters, with my whole entire heart.

Danny Francesco is canonically a dumbass, bi disaster who fell for his sugar daddy, war criminal Hugh Grant. Good for him. It's what he deserves. 🥰🥰🥰