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boysmentfs · 2 months

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My new boyfriend.

Tommy was Olivia's bff, he was always there for her above all things, they considered themselves almost "sisters" since tommy was not a guy like the others, he was a Twink, brown hair, youthful face, 20 years old, very thin, just like a noodle and clearly homosexual.

Olivia was the typical dumb blonde girl, tall, busty, the same age as tommy and popular but despite all this she always had things going wrong in love, she had recently met a fraternity guy named "Jake" But as expected, their relationship didn't last long and they had broken up a few hours ago, so she sent Tommy a message, so he could comfort her like he always does.

"Sis... I have ended my relationship with Jake, I am devastated... He was the most handsome guy in the world, I can't believe it"

"bestie, why do your relationships always take so little time? I mean, you've dated really hot guys... Hehe, I don't understand why they break up with you, you're beautiful, sis"

"I don't know, Tommy.... I would love to have a boyfriend who actually loves me for a long time, who protects me, listens to me and all that stuff, like you do."

"It's a shame I like guys, bff, because if I didn't, you know I'd be with you, but don't worry, you'll get a nice handsome guy with an attitude like mine!"

"I hope it doesn't take too long for that guy to come into my life, hey baddie, thanks for listening to me <3, now I have to go to sleep, sweet dreams! xoxo"

After that last message, olivia went straight to her computer and looked for something on the black market that could help her with her plan, and that's how he found a pair of red shorts, a chain and some earrings, In the description it said that with those things the guy who will use them would become the most handsome and loving guy in the world, so olivia did not hesitate twice and clicked to buy it.

The next day, the package arrived at her house, but I didn't want it to be so obvious, so I took the things out of the box where they were and handed them another one with a wrapper full of teddy bears and hearts, olivia knew that Tommy, seeing this, would not hesitate to open it, so once she closed the box, she sent it to Tommy's house.

A few minutes had passed since Olivia had sent the box to Tommy's house, When the package arrived someone knocked on the door and left, Tommy went directly to the door and opened it, curious to see the package he picked it up from the floor and began to open it, Tommy, seeing what was inside the box, was surprised. He never ordered clothes online, maybe they went to the wrong house, so he closed the box again, waiting for the real owner to claim it.

Once he left the box on the table, he went straight to the shower, when he finished his shower he grabbed his shirt but something was missing... And that was his special pink shorts, he remembered that he had lent them to his best friend so he thought of a solution, so he remembered that in the package they had sent him there were some red shorts so he went for them, once he used them, he would wash them so that the real owner would not suspect.

He grabbed the red shorts and put them on, It was a beautiful warm and sunny day so he decided to watch some TV, while watching TV he started to feel strange and a little hot, Something in his mind told him no try on what was in the box, the chain and the earrings, so he went for them and put them on, once je had them on he went to a mirror and saw himself, he laughed because he looked like one of her friend's boyfriends, but thin and without any muscle. After he saw herself in the mirror, he returned to the couch to continue watching TV.

And without realizing it, his foot began to enlarge as it became fleshier, his toes lengthened as veins sprouted and some hair grew on them, now he had feet of size 15, large masculine, all their delicacy was gone, now they looked like the feet of an jock.

His legs began to hurt, because they began to thicken and muscle began to come out, now his thighs were big while his calves were worthy of a real man, some hair began to grow on them.

The next thing to change was his butt and his bag, His big butt began to shrink to a decent size worthy of an jock, it was big but not as big as before although it was defined a little more, her pouch, which she was proud of since it was small and delicate, began to grow to a size 15 and also thickened while pubic hair came out, it seemed that she never shaved, but that made him look more masculine.

His designer thong also began to undergo changes, it went from being a red thong to becoming blue designer boxers so that his manhood would be highlighted even more along with his toned butt.

His stomach, which was thin, began to hurt as abdominal after abdominal came out in Tommy's stomach, a v began to be marked on the lateral sides while he gained a beautiful pack of 8 very worked abs, his chest began to expand outwards as two large defined pecs bulged out, a tattoo began to appear on a pectoral, his torso began to lengthen as he became more masculine, his back also underwent changes, it went from being feminine and thin, to being masculine and wide, muscle also appeared there, giving him a very manly back and worthy of admiration.

hiss shirt began to tear due to his large muscles, that was where Tommy reacted and was surprised and ran towards the mirror.

"Omg! What happened to me? I am dreaming? "This must be a dream, yes... I must wake up."

But before Tommy slapped himself, his arms began to hurt as they began to stretch and muscle began to come out, his biceps were now the size of a ball, his triceps were well worked, his delicate hands began to thicken while his fingers lengthened can and they started to look calloused due to all the exercise he did at the gym, wait... Exercise? Gym? He didn't exerc- but before Tommy reacted, two tattoos began to appear on his two muscular arms and another tattoo on one of his biceps.

Tommy couldn't anymore, he was about to cry, so he got the idea to call Olivia, but before he could do that, his face started to hurt.

Tommy's face, which was young, delicate and feminine, began to change as his jaw became marked, giving him a more manly appearance, His lips that were too full from being an expert cocksucker became thinner but still looked kissable, his nose became big and cuter, his eyes that were green began to turn brown, his beautiful blonde hair began to recede as it began to turn black, at the end, his hair ended up with a cut that any jock could have, his face had become the most beautiful, any girl who saw him would die to be with him, Tommy looked in the mirror again, looking at his new appearance, he became somewhat horny, without a doubt his new appearance was his ideal type, all the blood flowed into his bag giving him an obvious erection.

Tommy put his hand in his bag and started moving his hand up and down. He started to think about how many cute guys he could fuck... But as he thought about guys his erection faded, His mind began to give him new memories as a new alpha aura took over him. He began to imagine himself fucking girls with big butts and tits. His erection returned, but Tommy knew this wasn't right... He was... Homo... Homosexual?, NO, he was straight and loved raising beautiful girls with his bag, As he continued to raise and lower his hand he couldn't hold back anymore and he came and with that all his memories, personality and Tommy faded away.

"Seriously, Olivia is lucky to have me as a boyfriend, I mean, who wouldn't want someone like me?" Max said to himself as he flexed one of his arms in the mirror.

Tommy was now Max, Olivia's boyfriend, quarterback of the football team, leader of his fraternity, he loved parties, alcohol, exercising and having fun, max hated homosexuals, he said they could never be real men like him and his "bros."

After pulling up his pants he received a message from his girlfriend Olivia, Olivia knew that Tommy at this point had ceased to exist so she wanted to test out her new boyfriend.

"Hi love! I miss you... I would like to have you here with me, I want you to make me yours... come to my house <3"

"Well, today I'm free princess, to hell with today's training, I prefer to be with my beautiful girl, so you don't miss me so much while i arrived at your house, I'll send you a photo of me, princess ;)"

Olivia was happy with her new boyfriend, he was affectionate and listened to her all day, just like she wanted.

#gay to straight #male tf #personality change #reality change #jock tf #male transformation #frat bro #twink to jock #frat boy tf

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bi-writes · 7 months

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bff!roommate!simon comes home from deployment. it is the first time that either of you feel the distance thousands of miles can bring.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 10/?)

word count: 3.4k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, aNgSt, mean!simon, mentions of simon's canon trauma, military service criticism, pet names (luv, kitty), vague smut (18+) ⚠️🔞

large blocks of italicized text are flashbacks.

she hasn't called.

it was something that simon realized only a week in. normally, he spent his evenings sheltered in his room, his earbuds in, your voice on the other end. even if he didn't talk, you spoke. normally, you would tell him about your day; about the customer that gave you a hefty tip, the kids that left the tables a sticky mess, the meal you made that you think he would like. simon listened, and he would close his eyes and let the lull of your voice put him to sleep. sometimes, it was the next best thing to get him rest; it was impossible to know the comfort of you in your bed across from him when he was so far away.

more recently, those calls had become something else. you would still tell him the same stories, but sometimes your voice would drop a few degrees lower, and you would ask him if he was thinking about you--about all of you. and there simon would be, a pathetic, choking mess as he fucked himself to soft sound of your voice on the other end--so good, simon, miss you so much, need you, need you--can't wait for you to come home, n-need to feel you--

but it was quiet now. there was no one calling him, no one leaving him texts that he couldn't wait to read in the morning. his phone was silent; but the thoughts in his head were not.

the inevitable loneliness faded to anger after the weeks apart; his sergeants were quick to learn to stay out of his way. there was to be no conversation, no jokes, no playful banter before and after their ops. there was complete silence, because if they spoke about anything other then their direct objective, simon was an unleashed dog, and no one wanted to be on the spitting end of his berating.

he thought about you even when he wasn't supposed to. when he was supposed to be focused, when he was supposed to have his eyes on the target, sweeping the horizon--you were there, behind his eyes. remembering the look on your face before he had left.

the gloss of your eyes. the tears that collected at the edges. the drawing in of your knees to your chest, the tremble of your pouty lip. the stain that he was leaving on you--he didn't even have it in him to turn around and tell you that he was sorry.

he was sorry. the things you asked for weren't unreasonable--you wanted answers. you wanted him to tell you what this was, what this would be. it wasn't enough anymore to pretend this wasn't real. the reality was that there was no one else--and his eyes had yet to go anywhere else since the first moment he tasted your sweet cunt. he knew, deep down, that this possessiveness had started long before that--when you were just kids, holding onto each other for some kind of comfort away from what waited for you at home.

you cradled his head in your lap. a damp towel was in one hand, the other holding his trembling face to your chest. when you pulled the towel back, you flinched at the sight of blood.

"simon? y-you...y-you wanna talk about it?"

all he could was shake his head. you picked him up, sitting him back gently against the bench, and you used the towel to wipe at the blood drying under his nose. his eyes were red with the tears he wanted to cry, but he held them back, swallowing them down.

you leaned in, looking down as you rested your forehead against his.

"what was it this time? was it tommy?"

when he just shrugged, you reached down, smoothing your hand over his. his hands were smooth, soft--they had not seen the other side yet.

"n-no one's gonna be at my place," you whispered. "why don't you stay tonight?"

you ate instant noodles on the roof that evening, your head leaning on his shoulder as you both looked out into the dreary city. there were dark clouds overhead, and you knew it would rain tomorrow. fitting, and you hoped then that it might wash away the pain of yesterday.

it was the first night that simon was encased by silence. on his back beside you on your twin bed, staring up at the ceiling as he thought about how he might explain the bruises on his face when he went to his classes the next day--about what he might say this time.

when he turned his head, there you were. eyes closed, face pressed into your pillow as you breathed gently. real. alive. here. some kind of respite that he didn't think he deserved.

the papers he had taken were burning a hole in his desk at home--just waiting for his signature. it was time to take control. to take his life back. that was the only way that he could keep this, whatever it was--this was the only way that he could protect you. protect himself. protect tommy, his mother, his sanity.

the only thing he prayed for that night was that you would forgive him when he left you behind.

you had always been his. you belonged to him. and he could keep pushing you away, but it wouldn't erase the fact that he lived in your bones and you under his skin, and whatever this was meant forever.

and simon wouldn't fucking die--no matter how hard they tried--and he needed to fix this.

but he was angry. and half of him came from something else. something not real. something sour. something that bled dark, not red but black, poison. sometimes he could feel that half of him right under his tongue. he could taste it, the sour and rot that part of him was made of, and he could feel it multiplying under his skin like mold.

he would never be rid of this kind. he couldn't throw away half of himself without losing all of himself; and normally, simon could swallow this down, keep it underneath, but fuck, it's coming, going to be fuckin' sick, it's coming--

when he saw her, he just took her. glaring at her under a dark mask didn't deter her, and when she kept pushing, he let her. he let her follow him home, let her through the threshold of a space that had only ever belonged to someone else.

he let her in. he let her in. he let her in.

she didn't taste like you. she was too loud. her voice was too shrill, moans that made him flinch rather than relax. between her thighs, it wasn't the same--it wasn't warm like it was with you. she was wet, dripping actually, but she smelled like something else. foreign. poison.

her eyes were too wet, too harsh, a glare there that didn't belong. this was wrong, it felt wrong, but he was so angry, and he needed something to bite. maybe something to tear about, he wasn't exactly sure, but as soon as he had her here, under him, knees pressed to her chest as she let him fuck her senseless, he realized that it was painful.

there was a disconnect between what was real and what was not. it was so real with you, and now he just felt so far away from himself. he felt like someone else. and he thought, he really thought, that the other half of him was so fucking real that it would come easy.

to hurt. to inflict pain. to growl and claw and take and eat, shouldn't this be easy? pain was in his genes, it was a part of him. trauma ran in his blood and into his veins, and when his heart pumped, it trickled into every soft place that lived and breathed inside of him.

isn't it? isn't this a part of me? why does it hurt? why doesn't it feel good? why is it worse, why does this hurt, why can't i breathe--

the front door shut behind you. you let out a shaky sigh, shrugging off your jacket and putting your bag down. you tossed everything onto the kitchen table, and just as you went to put your shoes away by the door, you noticed something out of place.

simon's boots were haphazardly tossed beside the shoe bench, laces hurriedly untied, one boot fallen onto its side. strange, and it stood out to you because simon wasn't someone who didn't put things away where they should be. he was adamant about this practice. but the strangest thing was the pair of shoes thrown beside them--heeled suede boots, with a pointed toe.

but they didn't belong to you.

you froze, your lips parting when you heard the shuffle of noise behind a closed door. you stepped backwards in the foyer, your back hitting the wall, and you put your hand over your stomach, suddenly feeling like heaving.

simon had come home; and there was someone else here with him.

your entire body suddenly felt hot, on fire. you looked towards the window, the one that faced the street, and when your vision went blurry, you realized there were tears coming down your face. the heat must've been your falling heart--it was dropping, fast, sliding down your chest and into your stomach, and it was like the acid there was crawling right back up your throat. you couldn't see anymore, warm tears wetting your cheeks and gathering in your mouth and staining your jaw and your neck.

simon had come home--and there was someone else here with him.

it had felt so real. hadn't it been real? wasn't this real? wasn't he real? weren't you real? this was real--it was fucking real.

right?

you hurried. you went right for your bedroom, shoving the door open, and you frantically went for your closet, pushing it open and scrambling for one of your bags. you tossed items off the shelves, blind through your tears, and as you grabbed one that hid behind a box of your memories, the lid popped off of it, its contents spilling onto the floor. you stepped over polaroid pictures, over moments captured in time, and you couldn't focus on them because you were blind--the tears just wouldn't stop, they won't stop, please stop.

you tossed the bag onto the bed, ripping the zipper open, and you flung the drawers open, just scooping handfuls of your clothes into the bag. whatever would fit--anything you could pick up until the bag was full, until you could barely force the zipper closed and swing the bag over your shoulder. you looked around the room frantically, looking for any essentials you might need, and you froze when you heard voices outside your door, the padding of more than one pair of feet. simon's footsteps were easy to point out, but then there was a lighter pair, a voice a little high-pitched wafting after his own.

suddenly, the idea of running away, of crying--it felt so stupid. he wasn't your boyfriend. he wasn't your lover, not your significant other, there was nothing that tied you together. the string you always thought that connected you wasn't that at all; simon had you on a leash, and you just hadn't realized he just let go.

he leaves me behind. he always leaves me behind.

there was nothing in those dark eyes that belonged to you. there was nothing here in this apartment that told you otherwise. separate rooms, separate things--you were just two people that lived in the same place, so what if he eats my cunt and puts his fingers inside of me and calls me a good girl? he's not mine, not mine, he doesn't belong to me.

and the only thing worse than the truth of it was that you belonged to him. and he had ruined you for anyone else.

the door swung open. you stopped moving, your hands shaking as you turned towards the sound of it. you knew how it looked--the bag over your shoulder, a few cherished knickknacks cradled in the other arm. the red in your eyes, the tears on your face--the rawness of your sadness so exposed and so there, right in his face, right where he could see you.

he was dressed down, sweats pulled on haphazard, a wrinkled shirt pulled on so hastily that he hadn't realized it was inside-out. and that fucking mask, crooked and damp on his sweaty face. he was gripping your doorknob tight in one fist, his knuckles white from how hard he held it.

"oi," he looked around your room. disheveled, messier than usual. ransacked drawers from your frantic packing, items knocked over as you searched for your precious possessions. "wot's this?"

you swallowed.

"i'm...i'm going on...on a trip. i..." you tried to laugh through your tears, "i thought i told you. i-i must've forgot."

"'cause i just got home," he muttered, stepping into your room. you stepped back at that. simon had been in your room before, of course he had. but something wasn't the same. something was different, and now instead of feeling like every corner of your apartment was safe, it felt like he was invading this place. he was too big, the room was too small, the distance between you was too short. you were suffocating. you couldn't breathe. and when he reached over and snatched the bag off your shoulder, you flinched.

when simon met his own eyes in the mirror, he nearly choked. he didn't recognize himself. the eyes that stared back at him didn't belong to him. not simon, not ghost, not the someone he pretended to be--no. no, no, no--that isn't me--i'm not like him--not him, not him, not him, anything but him.

he dropped your bag, holding out his hand suddenly. he was careful, slow, as if he might startle you, and you stepped back again, shaking your head.

"kitty--"

"don't!" you cried, and the yell of your own voice startled you, so much that you put a shaking hand over your mouth. you looked away from him. "d-don't call me that."

and just like that, he felt it. the spool of thread, cut. the line connecting you--severed. the apartment you had made a home, the sacred door that you hadn't opened to anyone, fuck, it was gone so quick. the years of trust, the undeniable bond, just gone, it was gone, how the fuck was that possible?

had it really been that easy? had this thing between you that had been so real been so fucking delicate?

your hands were shaking. trembling, and it was hard to read the papers that you held, and it was even harder to read them when the tears you shed was making the ink bleed.

your bedroom door creaked, and you looked up. simon ran an uneasy hand through his hair when he realized what you were holding. his signature so clear at the bottom, and all he had to do was walk back into the recruiting office. he didn't want to take anything with him--he didn't have any possessions, nothing he needed to pack away.

nothing he needed to pack away. nothing he needed to pack away. nothing he needed to pack away, nothing, nothing, nothing.

"when were you going to tell me?" you asked, but it was more of a strained whisper. you let the papers slip back into their place, and when you met his eyes, he was sympathetic, but you knew that look. you weren't going to change his mind about this. it was all made up.

"i...i-i hadn't thought about it. i...no, i just...i don't know."

he swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. he was uncomfortable, but he came closer, settling onto the ground beside you, sitting just next to you.

"when...when are you leaving?"

a beat. and then, "in a few days."

you looked down at your hands, and as you watched them continue to shake, simon reached over, putting his own hand over them and clasping them together, stilling you. just like that, so easy--how much power did he hold over you?

"b-but...but why?"

"need to do this. not just for me," he murmured. "not just for tommy. not just...for mum. you. have you seen the fuckin' news? haven't you seen what's going on?"

and what about what went on behind your closed doors? his own? simon gets to decide to be hero when the real war is right here, right under his fucking nose?

selfish. he's so selfish. i hate him. i hate him. i hate him.

"so...what?" you breathed. "those...those towers get hit, so that means i-i have to lose something, too?"

he turned to face you, frowning. "don't say that. that isn't...that's not what this is. i need to do something. i can't...i can't just keep watching this happen. it's not right." he squeezed your hand. "i can do something about this. i can help."

you had no idea simon had suddenly become some kind of martyr. that he suddenly felt some kind of obligation to saving the world.

he was your world. weren't you his?

"'m gonna come back," he said softly, but it didn't feel like a promise.

it just felt like goodbye.

he was calling your name, but you pretended not to hear. her boots were gone, but the trace of something unfamiliar still lingered in the air. you grabbed your purse, the keys jingling, and just as you were going to move again, reality hit him.

i'm going to lose her. i'm going to lose her if i don't say something.

"would y'just let me fuckin' say something?!"

the sharpness of his voice stopped you, and you turned to face him, your bottom lip trembling.

"what do you want from me, simon?" you breathed. "what the fuck do you want from me? i-i...i didn't ask for this."

"luv--" he came closer, and you sobbed when he gripped both sides of your head. his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you tight, firm.

solid. grounding.

"it's okay," you shook your head. you smiled through your tears, blinking through them, meeting his eyes. "simon, it's okay...it's...it's my fault..."

"..wot?"

"i wanted more," you whispered. the tears were wetting his hands, and as much as he tried to wipe them away, more kept falling. "i wanted more, and i..." you laughed a little, but there was no humor in it. just sadness, echoing and hollow, just how you felt inside. you lifted a shoulder in a defeated shrug. "it's never been that way."

simon shook his head. "no. kitty, 's not true--"

"you've never fought for this before, simon, don't start begging now," you gasped. "just don't. you leave me behind. that's my fucking fate with you, getting left behind, and i keep thinking you'll change, but you won't--"

"that's not--!"

"you won't change, simon!" you cried, choking on it, and you were so sad, and for something that supposedly wasn't real, it felt like a gaping wound, something splitting apart his skin and crawling from the inside-out. "you...you won't change...but it's okay...s-simon, it's okay..." you tried to smile again. "i've always known. i-i think i've just...i've always known..."

the glass around him shattered when you spoke again.

"i-i've always...i-i...i think i've always been yours," your voice was so soft. it was the pain of accepting a truth you never wanted. "a-and...and you've never been mine."

it wasn't true. that wasn't true. you had no idea what kind of things you held over him. you had no idea the power you had, the kind of things that your touch made him feel. you had no idea how tightly he was bound--he had no room to breathe.

if this wasn't love, if this wasn't the kind of pain that love brought, then what the fuck is this? isn't this real? aren't we real?

but half of simon was poison. and when you left, it was quiet. there was no one to hear him scream. there was no one to take the glass out of his mouth, the shards of them that he swallowed, to watch the black of his blood choke him.

when he looked in the mirror again, he recognized those eyes. he had been too afraid to see them for what they were before, but now he knew who those eyes belonged to, and he thought it would be easier to cut them out than look at his reflection again.

a dream, a nightmare, not reality.

left behind.

always yours. and never mine.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

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ladykailitha · 4 months

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Paper Hearts Part 4

I finished it!! It will have 8 chapters. I'm excited for you guys to see where this goes! I'm still working on Sweet Home Indiana and will be focusing on that until ITS done. Then we'll be back our regularly schedule WIPs.

We have Eddie's big plan and Steve gets his flirt on.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Steve slipped into the kitchen and there in his mother’s neat handwriting was a note telling him that there were leftovers in the fridge and that they would be home again next Friday.

He sighed and opened the fridge. He immediately closed it when he saw what the leftovers were.

Boiled cabbage with chopped bacon and carrots. It wasn’t bad if it was made correctly, but his mother boiled any flavor and nutrients out of the poor vegetables and then tossed in cooked bacon to hide its sins.

He opened the cupboard and pulled out a small can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and made that. He was craving the sodium. Eddie’s beef was good to get his body to stop shaking, but he had sweat so much he needed to replenish the salt he’d lost.

Once Steve had eaten and drank another glass of water he went to go get a shower and get ready for bed. It was no use trying to get back to his homework now. He had managed to blow up his whole evening by getting lost.

He had no idea how he got to Forest Hills or even why his feet carried him there in the first place. He could feel the weariness seeping into his bones from running for so long.

He undressed and got under the scorching water, letting the heat carry away his pains. His mind ran through all the things that Munson had done for him. The guy had no reason to be nice to him, but he had been more than gracious.

Then it hit him. Munson had called him Stevie, and without thinking Steve had called him Eds.

Eds.

Where the fuck did that come from? They weren’t friends, they could barely be considered acquaintances. Was his brain reaching out to the guy subconsciously? Is that why he ended up at the trailer park? Everyone knew that’s where Munson lived. Who knew how many times the guy had been called trailer trash, but the older teen seemed to rise above the insult.

Steve shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Just because Munson picked up lost sheep, didn’t mean he’d be willing to taken in an injured wolf. Because that’s what he was, reformed or not, Steve would never be a sheep. He would always be a wolf. A predator.

But at least as a wolf he could protect those kids with everything he had. And he would, even if it killed him.

The water had long since turned cold by the time Steve stepped out of the shower. He completed his after shower routine mostly on autopilot as he kept going over his interactions with both Munson men. He didn’t really have good interactions with dads or in this case uncles. But Munson’s uncle Wayne treated him with kindness and he could see where the older boy got it from.

He dressed into his pajamas and slid under the covers. He rolled over on his back and tucked one arm under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

Steve thought back to the apology. One Munson really didn’t have to give but did anyway. He thought about the other jocks that bragged about hurting his hand. He held it up and looked at the fading bruise. It wasn’t as though he was even basketball anymore. Hurting his hand wouldn’t do anything but make it hard to do his homework and all he had to do is show his teachers his hurt hand and he’d get extensions for that. Like he had for his concussion last November.

But then again Tommy H. never had reasons for the people he hurt either. He just liked the power he got seeing the person helpless.

He placed his hand over his heart and let himself drift off the sleep, brown eyes and dark curls haunting his dreams.

****

Eddie had originally bought the red heart for himself like he had told the two juniors. But staring at it now, he had a better plan for it. Because that last wall, that last bastion of defense crumbled to ashes when he realized that despite the fancy car, the big house, and the expensive clothes, Steve Harrington was more like Eddie than he thought possible.

Wayne’s approval of the boy cemented that for him. Because if he could take one look at Steve and decide he was worth saving, then Eddie raring to go full steam ahead for a rescue mission.

Eddie could tell that the hearts were made from simple construction paper, like the kind found just about anywhere. He knew it would be technically cheating to just simply make more instead of buying them, but he had no intention of contributing to a dance he was never going to go to because one, it wasn’t his year; two, the whole gay thing; and three, the one person he would want to go with if the gay thing wouldn’t get him hate crimed, wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Well, all right, that might have changed with the whole rescuing him from wandering alone in the dark thing.

He forgave Eddie about being a dumbass, so maybe there was hope for, at the very least, a vast decrease in hostility. And he was willing to take what he could get.

He decided to wait until tomorrow after school to get the construction paper and hope that the high school hadn’t bought up the town’s supply.

On his way out the next morning, Wayne stopped him.

“You don’t have to tell me, son,” he said gently, “but you got feelings for that boy?”

Eddie froze and turned slowly to face his uncle. “What gave you that idea?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Boy, when you’d go on rants about the Harrington boy, you’d describe his floppy hair, his hazel eyes and how unfairly good looking the kid was. I didn’t say anything because it did sound like he’d been a bit of an ass. Only after last night I got to thinking and was wondering is all.”

Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. He let out a long shuddering breath, his bottom lip quivering.

“I–I don’t...” he closed his eyes again. This wasn’t Al. He wasn’t going to get beat for admitting it, but still it was so hard to say. So he just nodded.

Wayne came up and wrapped his arms around his nephew. “It’s a hell of a lot tougher batting for the other team, but I trust your judgment. Just promise me that if he shows signs of liking you back, you take the chance to tell him how you feel because...”

“You miss one hundred percent of the chances you don’t take,” they said together.

Eddie dropped his bag to the floor and hugged him back. “I know, old man. But I promise if there is a chance, I’ll be brave enough to take it.”

“Get going,” Wayne said, voicing cracking with emotion.

He pulled back and nodded. He reshouldered his backpack and got in his van.

He had a lot to think about and that really wasn’t conducive to paying attention in class or to his friends as they talked about their upcoming D&D session.

Gareth kicked his shin causing him to yelp.

“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie hissed.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Gareth hissed back. “You’ve been going on and on about the mind flayer for weeks and now that it’s literally this weekend, and you’re off in some other realm.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment before his brain came back on. He shook his head to clear it.

“Yeah, sorry, man,” he said around a pretzel. “Weird night last night.”

“What happened?” Jeff asked, tilting his head to the side.

So Eddie told them. “He was like a ghost, guys. If Wayne hadn’t seen him too, I would have thought I was hitting Mary Jane a little too hard, you know?”

“I didn’t realize he was getting bullied,” Brian said, frowning. “I would have thought with Hargrove giving the dude a wide berth, that everyone else would have too.”

“Untouchable,” Jeff agreed. “The fact that jocks are now splintering into factions tells you what kind of control Steve actually had on them.”

Eddie rubbed his chin. “I don’t know how true this is, but if Harrington wasn’t lying, he’s a real sweetheart, too.”

Then he leaned forward and explained about the pink heart scheme.

“So,” Gareth said, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them, “you’re telling us is that we have been seriously remiss in our duties in collecting lost sheep.”

The older teen sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to collect him, but I’m afraid the wolves might decide to rip him apart before we got him to safety if we tried.”

Jeff winced. He knew what Eddie was talking about. Steve Harrington wasn’t the usual lost sheep. He might be bullied now, but as King, Harrington had run far too long with the wolves to think that they could protect him one hundred percent of the time.

“So what are we going to do?” Brian asked. “Because if we let this slide, we’re throwing our lot in with the bullies and that’s something I refuse to do.”

A grin spread out over Eddie’s face, closed lips and dimples entrenched into his cheeks. “We’re going to make the school think that he’s just as popular as he ever was.”

The other three boys looked at each other in confusion.

“So what have you got?” Gareth asked, his own grin starting to take over his face.

****

Eddie made sure to get to class early so he could see where Steve was going to sit. He tried to tell himself it was about the dude’s hand, but it wasn’t working. He wanted to see if the former Hawkins royalty would chose to sit with his old friends or by him again.

He didn’t have long to wait. Steve walked in not long after he did, just as the bell rang. He didn’t even look at his old desk near the front and beelined it for the chair he had sat in on Friday.

The teacher picked up on the change immediately and wrinkled her nose. “I am to suppose that you are taking up permanent residence in the back with Mr. Munson, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve half shrugged as he began to pull out his things for class. “I got more work done, Mrs. Dixon and I really want to graduate on time.”

Mrs. Dixon nodded. “Agreed and as long as you continue the level of attention from last week, you are permitted to stay there.”

About half way through class while Mrs. Dixon was grading papers, Tommy H. turned around and kicked Steve’s chair. “Suck up,” he hissed.

Steve puckered his lips and wagged his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want to be next?”

Tommy turned back around, his face bright red.

Eddie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side as he considered everything about that interaction.

A little blossom of hope sprouted in his chest and he fought to keep it down. Steve had insinuated that other people were gay for years, but to Eddie’s highly trained gay ears, that sounded like Steve was offering to suck Tommy H.’s dick and that Tommy didn’t exactly turn him down.

Curiouser and curiouser, he thought tapping his lips thoughtfully. More research would have to be done.

He pulled out a different notebook, the one he used for campaign notes and song lyrics.

He wrote girls over one column and boys over the other and began tallying what he knew about the former King of Hawkins.

A shit ton went into the Steve liking girls column, but there was surprisingly more in the liking boys column then he would have thought possible. He looked up to catch Steve smirking at him.

Eddie quickly covered his notebook and stuck his tongue out at Steve.

The other boy shook his head and went back to doing the assignment. Eddie was more careful about what he left out in the open because he didn’t want Steve teased for it nor did he want him to see that Eddie was trying to figure him out.

The bell rang and the notebook was suddenly whisked off his desk.

“Hey!” Eddie cried, looking up to see Steve dancing away with the notebook teasingly. “Stevie!” He grabbed his bag and chased after the other boy. But the other boy was a jock and Eddie was wheezing for breath by the time he caught up with him at his locker.

“Give that back,” he huffed.

Steve gave him a bright smile and handed it back. “I just made a minor addition.”

Eddie frowned as he flipped through the pages but didn’t see anything. Steve took it back and turned to the correct page and leaned close so that only Eddie could hear.

“I trust you’ll keep my secret,” he whispered and then dropped to one knee to start getting into his locker.

Eddie gulped at the sight and turned to the paper to avoid saying something stupid. There in bold capital letters under his girls/guys columns was the word BOTH.

He looked up at Steve who had stood up. Steve winked at him and then walked away, leaving a shocked Eddie behind.

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@fullpoetrybread @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @moonshadows-13

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234 @dotdot-wierdlife

@ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself @dam28lh

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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half-oz-eddie · 27 days

Note

In the spirit of positivity, how do you think Buck and Tommy say I love you for the first time? 🥰 Feel free to send this ask to others 💕

Hi! Tysm for the ask. Here, I wrote a silly little thing. I love first time I love you confessions! lol

It was a long, long day. Especially for Buck. Call after call after call and his body felt like a noodle.

Tommy had to help him up the stairs and ran him a bath so Buck wouldn't have to stand in the shower.

Buck said, probably, 3 or 4 words since Tommy picked him up from his shift.

The happy hums and nods would suffice, though. Tommy just wanted Buck to be okay.

After helping Buck into the bath and helping him dry off and helping him into his clothes, he then continued to help and got him into the bed.

Tommy lied down next to him, not nearly as exhausted, but tired enough to get a good night's rest next to Buck.

"Thank...you." Buck mumbled.

"Of course, Evan." He replied sweetly, slowly closing his eyes.

"Love you...so much."

Tommy's eyes sprang open, and he jumped up as Evan rolled over and immediately began to fall asleep.

"N-n-n-n-no, Evan? Evan. Wake up for a second, sweetheart. What'd you just say?"

"Mmh."

"Evan? Baby, look at me. Just for one sec. I just wanna know what you said."

"I said..." Buck went silent again, letting out a loud snore.

"Evan." Tommy said his name insistently, nudging him gently.

"The boxes...check all the boxes."

"What boxes? Evan, what are you talking about?"

"The prize...the cereal."

Clearly Buck was so exhausted he was mumbling nonsense. Maybe the "I love you" was nonsense too, Tommy relented and laid back down.

Maybe he'd be able to ask him in the morning.

Tommy found himself wide awake now, thinking about Buck's words.

Minutes later, he felt Buck shift and grab onto him, so he lovingly pulled him into his embrace and kissed the top of his head.

"I said...I love you." Buck mumbled against Tommy's chest.

"Are you sure you're not just talking in your sleep?" Tommy asked.

"Sleepy...but love you."

Tommy smiled. "I love you too. I always will."

Silence returned again. Tommy could feel Buck starting to drool on his bare chest and he sighed, but only held Buck tighter.

This is what love is all about, right?

#ask game #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #ivy.word #firebeast.doc

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between-two-fandoms · 5 months

Text

Kinley Taking Care Of Each Other Headcanons

We've all generally established they make the worst patients for hospital staff because they're stubborn firefighters, but what if they only behave for each other?

A nurse asks Buck to drink water and take meds? No thank you. Tommy asks him to be be brave for him? The water and meds are gone within seconds. Tommy gets told he has to stay in bed for 24hrs after he gets hurt? Absolutely not. He's fine! He didn't even get concussed this time! Buck looks at him with the Buckley Puppy Dog Eyes, and suddenly Tommy's tucked in bed with pillows, Buck curled into his side, and Love Actually playing in the background on the hospital TV.

They both change each other to their emergency contacts. I've seen this one float around, and I really like it. They both know the dangers of their job, and life in general. They want to be there for each other if something happens.

Tommy is absolutely weak for Buck's homemade chicken noodle soup. It's one of his favorite things to eat when he's under the weather. Buck meal preps it for him and sticks it in his freezer in case he can't take care of Tommy himself.

Buck loves it when Tommy runs a cool wash cloth across his skin, it helps him cool down and Tommy's hands always feel so good.

They both like having their hair played with if they get headaches or just want to cuddle after long exhausting days.

The first time Buck steals Tommy's LAFD hoodie happens because Buck is laid up sick with a cold and misses his presence since Tommy wasnt able to get off and had to go to work. Tommy comes back to Buck bundled up in like, three of his hoodies snoring adorably in bed.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #kinley #bucktommy #firepilot #headcanons #buck x tommy

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hardly-an-escape · 1 month

Text

sola fide | Buck/Tommy | 1170 words | rated T

tags: Evan Buckley character study, sick fic, mentions of religion, dirty jokes, established relationship, lgbtq identity

“Hey, uh, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you kind of a dumb question?”

“Of course.”

They’re posted up on Tommy’s couch, both with a weekend off at the same time for once. They’d planned to get out of the city, go for a long hike, maybe hit a winery somewhere. But Tommy’s been nursing a cold, so they’re taking it easy instead, and Buck likes that just as much as their adventures. So he’d made chicken noodle soup from scratch and brought over ginger ale and some of the violently red popsicles Tommy kept secretly stashed in the back of the freezer.

Buck’s quiet for another moment, gathering his thoughts.

“When did you know? That you were gay?” he says eventually.

Tommy looks up from the monster truck magazine he’s been leafing through.

“I don’t know that I can point to one particular moment,” he says, thoughtful. “On some level it was something I always knew about myself, even if I didn’t have the language to describe it yet. I guess… hitting puberty was kind of an awakening. Hearing other guys talk about girls we knew, or women in magazines, and realizing I just didn’t connect with what they were saying, like, at all. I guess there’s the fact that the first wet dream I had was about Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise.” He snorts. “That was a pretty big clue.”

Buck smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He realizes he’s twisting his fingers together in his lap and untangles them, rubs self-consciously at the tops of his thighs.

Tommy tosses his magazine onto the coffee table and takes one of Buck’s hands in his own, rubbing gently at the muscle between his thumb and forefinger. “What makes you ask?” he says gently.

“I dunno. I just.” Buck sighs. “I guess I’ve been feeling weird about it lately. Not – not this,” he adds hastily, “not us, not even a little. This is seriously one of the best things that has ever happened to me – you are one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, Tommy, I mean that.”

Tommy gives him a sweet little smile, one of the ones that’s just for him, and squeezes his hand.

“I just mean… this feels like such a big thing t-to not know about myself. You know, how did I make it into my thirties before it ever occurred to me, oh, you like guys, you might fall in love with a guy.” His voice rises in pitch a little as he picks up speed. “It makes me feel stupid, and – and out of touch with my own self. Like, what else is really obvious about myself that I haven’t realized yet, you know? Am I actually left handed? Am I secretly an Olympic gymnast? Am I some kind of Russian sleeper agent?”

Tommy squeezes his hand again. “I don't think it's that absurd to come to an important realization about yourself in your thirties, sweetheart,” he says. “I think that's a pretty normal thing, actually.”

Buck deflates a little. “Yeah. I know. I just... I've told you about my brother. That whole situation. Not knowing why I was born, never knowing that he even existed. I think all of this –” he gestures between them “– in a way it kind of reminds me of that? Like, here you go, Buck, here’s another big hole in your life that you didn’t know was there until someone tried to fill it.”

He catches Tommy’s smirk out of the corner of his eye and untangles their hands so he can give him a shove. “I know what joke you’re about to make, dumbass. Don’t even go there.”

“Okay, I’ll ask about filling your hole later,” says Tommy, deadpan, and Buck shoves him again, and for a minute their serious conversation devolves into the kind of ridiculous, juvenile wrestling match that Buck secretly loves, that he knows Tommy knows he loves. That reminds him they’re both strong and okay and in tune with one another.

They settle, eventually, with Tommy lying back against the arm of the couch, and Buck cradled against him, grateful that Tommy’s couch is wide and deep enough for them to press together, side by side.

Buck sighs again. Can’t help it.

“I knew a guy in the army. Jake,” says Tommy out of nowhere. “Very nice guy, not one of the assholes who joined up because he thought the uniform would make his dick bigger, you know? When we were in Afghanistan, he made friends with one of our interpreters, guy named Irshad. Mostly we didn’t get close with the locals, but those two – they really hit it off. Stayed in touch after we got shipped home and everything.” He shifts Buck slightly and absently kisses his temple. “When I saw Jake again, maybe a year after we were discharged, he’d converted to Islam. He said his friendship with Irshad had opened his eyes to something. To this faith. He said he felt like that something had always been there – like on some level, he’d always had that faith – it had just taken a while for it to be revealed to him.”

“Huh,” Buck says. He thinks about this idea for a while, petting randomly over Tommy’s chest and belly with one hand while Tommy’s thumb rubs gentle, firm circles in the meat of his upper arm. He likes it, he decides. He’s not a religious person himself, but faith feels like something… important. Fundamental. Feels like a Big Thing, the way sexuality is. It does feel better, he thinks, just to know there are other people who’ve discovered one of those Big Things as a whole ass grownup. He’s not sure how to phrase it. But it does make it feel better.

“So what I hear you saying… is that realizing I like dudes and getting into your pants could be considered comparable to finding God,” is what comes out of his mouth.

He can feel Tommy try to maintain his composure and suppress the snort that wants to escape. He does his best, abdominal muscles contracting under Buck’s hand, but the laughter wins out and explodes in a kind of barking cough that sounds, frankly, a little alarming. Buck sits them up and thumps Tommy on the back a few times, handing him the mug of honeyed tea that’s been cooling on the coffee table.

“Evan,” Tommy wheezes eventually, “I’m going to need you to never say anything like that again.”

“Sure, babe,” Buck says. “But just to be clear, does that mean you don’t want me to get on my knees for you?”

And Tommy is laughing again, and Buck feels so much better. Feels warm inside, because somehow, Tommy always knows how to make him feel better. How to take the disparate anxious puzzle pieces of him and turn the picture right side up so he knows how to solve himself.

(“Oh, my God,” Tommy gasps between coughs.

“That’s my line,” Buck says.)

read on AO3 >>>

#my writing #bucktommy #911 abc #genuinely don't know how I feel about this one but I banged it out in record time so you get to read it <3 #tommy kinard #evan buckley

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pedrospatch · 2 years

Text

a safe haven | two

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: While helping set up the barn for the summer party, a friend tells you that Tommy wants to set her up with Joel and feelings of jealousy come into play; you ask your niece Dina for a huge favor; you share a memorable moment with Joel and Ellie on the dance floor.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. commune throws party, Esther makes an appearance, reader gets jealous, mentions of reader’s husband, husband name reveal, hints at their strained marriage, Dina and Ellie interaction, Joel dances, cute moments between Ellie, Joel, and reader. mention of food, consumption of alcohol.

word count: 6.6k

You glance around the barn, both hands planted firmly on your hips.

It’s late in the afternoon, around three or four if you had to guess since you’d accidentally left your watch in your satchel bag back at the stables.

After spending the morning making your usual rounds and tending to all of the horses that needed some attention, you’d offered to pitch in and help prepare for the night’s upcoming festivities. In one corner of the barn, Seth’s setting up the small bar where he and his sons would be bartending and serving up beverages. Over in another corner, Tommy Miller is helping set up the large, flat top grill and his wife, Maria, stands right beside him, keeping everything organized as she directs several members of the commune and assigns them with a number of tasks that still need to be taken care of before the social event could begin. The food had also started to arrive—quite a few people had kindly volunteered to bring in their homemade dishes to share, all sorts of delicious little pickings from a variety of savory sides to go with the bison steaks that Tommy would be grilling later on in the evening, to an array of sweet, baked desserts meant to be enjoyed afterwards. Maria graciously thanks everyone for their contributions, then points them over towards the long, rectangular shaped table that would serve as something of a buffet.

“Do you think we brought out enough chairs for tonight?” you ask, curiously cocking your head to the side slightly as you silently start to do another count of the mismatched chairs around all of the tables that surrounded the perimeter of the makeshift dance floor. The barn itself was incredibly spacious, and the group who’d been assigned the task of cleaning it up earlier that morning had completely cleared the inside, leaving more than plenty of room. Still, you try to be mindful about making sure the improvised venue isn’t too crowded with tables and chairs. “Or do you think we should bring out a few more?”

Esther scoffs in response. She had been sitting at one of the tables, digging through a woven basket filled to the brim with freshly picked wildflowers for the center pieces she had promised Maria that she’d make. She improvised with a different variety of glasses, plastic cups, and even old, empty food cans, using them as vases for her arrangements. In a tiny effort to spruce them up, Esther had tied a long string of twine into a bow around each one. “Listen, nobody is going to be sitting on their ass tonight, at least not for very long,” she remarks, brushing her long, golden blonde bangs out of her eyes with the back of her hand. She then gestures towards the stage where a couple of guys are bringing out instruments and setting them up. She shimmies her shoulders playfully. “Everyone is going to be way too busy dancing and shaking their tail feathers. Now quit worrying about chairs and help me with these damn things, will you?”

You giggle at her antics and lightly shake your head as you sit down in the wooden chair directly across from her plastic one. You grab an old, empty Campbell’s chicken noodle soup can and peel off the label, carefully checking the inside to make sure it’d been washed out thoroughly before grabbing a handful of flowers from the basket. Esther made a good point. The much anticipated and long awaited first day of summer had officially arrived in Jackson, and the entire town was buzzing with pure excitement over the gathering—an incredibly rare time to unwind and let loose, you knew everybody was more than ready to put on their best and dance the night away.

Sure, throwing a party while living in a world like this one seemed like nothing but a complete waste of time—not to mention, a complete waste of valuable and precious resources. But the good people of Jackson worked themselves down to the bone in efforts to keep the community going, to keep it growing and flourishing now that it was well over forty families strong. Taking just one night out of the year to have some carefree fun did a lot more good than it did harm. It provided a much needed sense of normalcy for everyone, but most importantly, for the children and members of the younger crowd who had been born after the outbreak. It was a small taste of what life used to be like before every single day became nothing but a fight for survival, before the worries of infection, clickers, and murderous raiders became god awful nightmares that had come to life. While Jackson was certainly a safe haven, it wasn’t completely immune to those very real threats, and that scared people. Seeing the way the summer party lifted spirits and boosted morale, Maria had made it an official annual tradition, something to look forward to when the tough got going. Anyone who thought it was a stupid idea was more than welcome to spend the entire night on wall duty instead.

“I wonder if he’s coming tonight.” Esther’s voice breaks into your train of thought after a minute or two.

You glance up at her, confused. “Who are you talking about?”

“Tommy’s older brother,” she replies, placing some daisies into a tall, slightly chipped glass. She bites her lip and says his name shyly. “Joel.”

Without thinking anything much of it, you nod and find yourself assuring her, “He said he would come.”

Esther’s hands fumble, clumsily knocking the glass over in surprise, her flowers spilling out. She manages to catch it just before it falls off the side of the table and grips it in her hand. “Wait a minute, you’ve met Joel?” She gasps lightly, her eyes going wide with curiosity. “You mean, you’ve actually talked to him? Are you fucking serious? When did that happen?” She sputters out each question, one after the other.

You bite back a grin as you recall your encounter with Joel Miller. Even now, a full day later, the feeling of his hand holding yours still lingers. His skin had been rough and calloused against your own, but you’d enjoyed the way it had felt. You shouldn’t have. But there’s no denying how much you had liked it, how much you wished for another chance to hold his hand in yours again.

Still waiting for answers, Esther nudges your leg with her foot under the table. “Well?”

You shrug your shoulders in the most calm, nonchalant manner that you can muster, as if the mere thought of the man isn’t making your insides flutter wildly. “Well, I actually just met him for the first time yesterday afternoon.” Seeing the genuinely stunned expression on Esther’s face, you begin to elaborate a little further as you start arranging a bouquet of flowers into the empty soup can in front of you. “Ellie, the girl he’s here with, well she spends a lot of time with me at the stables. Joel came looking for her after lunch hour and we got to talking for a bit. Before he left, I ended up inviting him and Ellie to come to the party.”

“Wait, what? Ellie spends a lot of time with you? Really?” Esther lets out a scoff of pure and utter disbelief. “I can hardly even believe it! That girl avoids everyone around here like we’re the damn infected. It’s really rude, don’t you think so?” She doesn’t even give you the chance to respond before adding, “She’s got quite the mouth on her from what I’ve heard, too. Cusses up a storm left and right, and she lacks the most basic manners. Poor Joel, I wonder how he ended up getting stuck with someone like her. Whoever her parents were, they clearly failed in disciplining her.”

Frowning, you glare at her across the table, not too fond over the remarks she’d just made about Ellie. “She’s actually a really good kid, Esther,” you all but snap at her, a seething edge to your tone. “You know something, I really wish people wouldn’t be so damn quick to judge before getting to know someone, especially when they have no idea about what they’ve been through. Maria has taught all of us better than that over the last few years.”

Your friend holds up her hands in defense. “Well in all fairness, it’s kind of hard to try and get to know someone who purposely chooses to keep to themselves all the time, you know. She isn’t even giving anyone the chance to get to know her. Except for you now, apparently.” She pauses for a moment, realizing she had just landed herself in a bit of hot water with you. She tries to deviate the conversation slightly into a less sensitive territory and asks, “Are they both coming tonight?”

“Joel said he’d be by with Ellie,” you confirm, still feeling a bit irate. You know Esther doesn’t really mean any harm, but her comments, and the way she’d said them, had definitely struck a nerve. “He might have his work cut out for him trying to talk her into coming with him, but I’m sure that he’ll manage to convince her somehow.”

“Well, at the very least, I sure hope that Joel sticks true to his word and comes out to join us,” she smirks, propping her elbows up on the table as she leans towards you and makes a confession that you’d really wished she hadn’t. “He’s certainly someone that I would like to get to know.”

You manage to keep a straight face, uttering a small, “Oh really?”

“Of course! He’s so damn handsome,” Esther gushes with a twinkle in her sky blue eyes. “Joel is exactly my type of man, you know. Tall. Rugged. Big, strong hands that I bet would feel incredible all over me,” she swoons back into her chair in a dramatic fashion at the thought of it. “And he has this mysteriousness about him that I really like too.” She stops, looking around to make sure nobody was within earshot before leaning over towards you once more. She lowers her voice just in case anyone happens to pass by the table. “Tommy stopped by my place after dinnertime yesterday. He told me he was thinking of setting Joel up with somebody and he asked me if I would be interested.”

Your heart sinks. “He did?”

It’s difficult to ignore the feeling of envy that’s prickling at your nerve endings. It’s incredibly stupid to feel this way, to feel disappointed, especially knowing that you didn’t have the slightest chance in hell with Joel Miller.

Esther’s a single woman up for grabs—and you’re not.

You’re married.

Still, the thought of Joel with Esther, it bothers you.

After talking to him in the horse stables the day before, you’d found yourself thinking about him a lot more than a married woman should probably be thinking about another man who wasn’t her husband. It was wrong, it was dangerous, and it wasn’t like you at all. But there was just something about him that had caught your attention, long before he’d even spoken a single word to you.

Now that you’d become acquainted with him, you were screwed.

So frustratingly and devastatingly screwed.

“You know what, I’m going to try and talk to him tonight,” Esther concludes, nodding her head as if she’d just convinced herself into doing it. “I might need a strong drink or two in me to give me a little bit of liquid courage, but I think I can do it. After all, Tommy thinks that Joel would really like me. He told me so last night.”

You lightly clear your throat and somehow manage to give her your best, encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll make a great first impression on him, Esther.”

“I think so too,” she agrees, giving the flower in her hand a gentle sniff. “By the way, I forgot to ask you—is Luke coming by tonight?”

The mere mention of your husband’s name makes you feel nauseous.

Averting your gaze, you shake your head. “No, he isn’t. He’s been so tired from work lately and he’s really not in the mood for it.” You hope she can’t detect the hint of relief in your voice as you explain that your husband wouldn’t be joining in on the night’s festivities. “He’s going to stay home and catch up on some rest.”

“What a shame,” Esther tsks with a frown. “That man works way too damn hard, you know. He needs a break. You should really try and get him to come to the party. He could use a night out.”

“I’ll try and talk him into it,” you lie straight through your teeth knowing damn well that you would do no such thing. The truth of the matter was, the less you were around Luke, the better. Him being at the party with you would only make it unenjoyable for you—if he came, you wouldn’t be able to be yourself, not unless you wanted to end the night with another explosive argument because you’d been too this or too that. Too chatty, too annoying, too embarrassing, too much.

Knowing Luke, he would expect you to be glued to his side all night long and play the role of his quiet, obedient little wife, and when that didn’t happen, it would cause all hell to break loose once you two were back in the privacy of your home. It was the one place where the image of the perfect, loving marriage that you and Luke had created over the last few years came crumbling down into pieces.

From your periphery, you catch a young girl with long, raven black hair walking by with a burlap sack of green apples in her arms. “Excuse me for a minute.” You stand up from the table and catch up to the teenager, calling out her name. “Dina!”

She stops in her tracks and turns around. As soon as she sees that it was you who’d called her name, she smiles warmly. “Hi there, auntie.”

You wrap an arm around her in a hug. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Dina shrugs, setting down the heavy sack at her feet as she smiles at you once again. Since you’d met her, she had always been a quiet kid, friendly but very shy. As she transitioned from childhood into adolescence, she had slowly but surely started coming out of her shell. “I’m excited for all the good food, that’s for sure. What about you?”

“I’m really looking forward to the live music,” you reply, nodding towards the stage where a young man is tuning up his bass guitar. You peer curiously at her for a moment, hesitating slightly before finally saying, “Listen, I’m glad that I caught you. I was wondering if you could do me a really big favor tonight?”

Eagerly, she nods. “Of course! Anything for you, auntie. What do you need?”

“You know that new girl, right? Ellie?”

Dina’s face falls instantly. “You mean the one who doesn’t talk to anybody?”

“Yeah. Her. I was thinking that maybe we should do something to change that,” you suggest to her. “I’d really appreciate it if you would try and talk to her tonight during the party. Maybe try and get to know her a bit.” You immediately notice the look of disdain that crosses her features. “I honestly think that you two would get along great. She reminds me a lot of you, you know. Minus all the cursing, of course,” you quickly add as an afterthought.

“You’ve talked to her?”

“She’s actually been hanging out with me these last couple of weeks.” You almost laugh at the shocked look on Dina’s face. “I wouldn’t ask you to befriend someone who I know you wouldn’t like. But I mean it, Dina. I really think you’d like Ellie. Something tells me that you two could wind up being good friends.”

“But she yelled at me on her first day here,” Dina recalls, anxiously biting her bottom lip as she shuffles from foot to foot.

“Okay, so maybe you two might have gotten off on the wrong foot,” you state, remembering that winter afternoon a few months ago when Dina had told you about how Ellie had barked at her for staring at her in the mess hall. “But that doesn’t mean that you two can’t start over, you know. Clean slate?” You grin and tuck a lock of her long hair behind her ear, grazing her cheek softly as you did so. “It would really mean a lot to me if you at least tried to talk to her. Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Dina thinks it over for a minute, then sighs in defeat. “Fine. I suppose I can give it a shot.”

You take her face in the palm of your hand, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Dina quickly pulls away from you and wrinkles her nose. “Auntie?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going home to shower before the party tonight, right?”

“Yeah, of course I am.” You furrow an eyebrow at her. “Why do you ask?”

“Because.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “You smell like a dirty horse.”

You chuckle, giving her another squeeze.

Oh, Ellie and Dina were going to get along just fine.

Joel stands in front of the bathroom mirror and frowns at his own reflection as he runs his thick fingers through his graying, dark brown curls for what had to be the thousandth time. Whether it was with his hands or with a comb, he couldn’t tame his locks to save his fucking life. He breathes out a long, irritated sigh and decides to give up on his hair altogether before walking back out into his bedroom in nothing but the dark blue bath towel wrapped around his waist. He pads over towards the foot of his bed where he’d set out his pile of clothes.

He quickly tugs on a pair of boxer briefs and his clean, dark wash blue jeans before reaching for one of the shirts Tommy had dropped off for him earlier that afternoon. His brother had given him a number of options to choose from and Joel had chosen the one he’d felt was the nicest—black with a gray paisley print and long sleeves. He shrugs into the shirt and buttons it up, rolling the sleeves up to the middle of his forearms. He glances over at his pistol on the black oak nightstand beside his bed. Though he’s fairly positive he wouldn’t be needing it, he picks it up and tucks it into the waistband of his jeans, purely out of habit.

After slipping on his cleanest pair of black leather boots, he leaves his bedroom and makes his way down the long hallway towards Ellie’s door. He gives it a light knock and calls, “Ellie, s’time. You all ready to go?”

It takes her a minute, but Ellie finally opens the door.

“Y’didn’t wanna dress up for tonight?” Joel questions, observing how she’s chosen to wear her usual long sleeved shirt, faded blue jeans, and tattered red low top sneakers.

She narrows her eyes at him and huffs, “Fucking really, Joel?”

He holds up his hands, shaking his head. “Right. That was a stupid question,” he realizes out loud. “Alright. C’mon, kiddo. Let’s get goin’ before it gets late.”

“Do we really have to go to this stupid thing?” Ellie whines with a small groan as she follows him down the stairs and out the front door. “It’s the end of the fucking world, man. Who in their right mind throws a fucking party? I mean, what are we even celebrating, anyway? The fact that we’re all fucked for the rest of our lives?”

“Y’know, a little change in attitude would be kinda nice,” Joel remarks as the two of them make their way across the commune, following another group of people who also appear to be heading towards the barn. “This could be real good for you, Ellie. Hell, it could be good for me too. It could end up bein’ a real good time for the both of us.” He doesn’t quite fully believe that, and the truth is, Joel really doesn’t want to go as much as Ellie doesn’t want to go. Still, he hopes that by exposing Ellie to people at the social event, she’ll have an easier time adjusting, and perhaps she could even finally find her niche. Or at least make a friend. Seeing you also happens to be a perk of going. “This could be fun.”

“Since when are you into parties, Joel?”

Joel shrugs his shoulders. “I ain’t into parties.”

“Oh, wait a minute. The only reason that you even want to go to this fucking thing in the first place is because you know who is going to be there. Isn’t that right, Romeo?” Ellie smirks and wiggles her eyebrows at him in a suggestive manner. Noticing the perplexed expression on his face, she scoffs, “Don’t look at me like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. I heard the way you were chatting her up at the stables yesterday.”

“First of all, she was the one who was chattin’ me up, thank you very much,” Joel mutters to her gruffly. “And second, what the hell were you doin’ hangin’ around and listenin’ to us? I thought I’d told you to go get lunch, not stick around and eavesdrop.”

“I didn’t wanna miss anything good,” Ellie replies, peering up at him. “You know that she’s married, don’t you?”

“Ellie,” he says her name warningly and looks around, hoping no one had been overhearing their conversation.

“Just making sure you knew that, Joel.”

“Yeah, I know she’s married,” he says, hoping that the teenager couldn’t pick up on the sour edge to his tone. He glances at Ellie, and wonders what all exactly she knew about you. Though he knows better than to ask her, he stupidly does so anyway. “You meet the guy yet?”

Ellie bites back another wide smirk, taking note of the way Joel had so easily let his curiosity get the better of him. “Nope. I’ve noticed that she doesn’t really talk about him much, either.” She shrugs, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “And from what I know, they don’t have any kids together.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at her. “Didn’t ask you if they had kids.”

“No, but I know you were wondering if they did,” Ellie states in a matter of fact tone. “Whether or not she’s happily married, I can find that out for you too, if you want me to. Just call me Sherlock fucking Holmes and I’ll crack the case.”

His mouth falls open slightly at what she’d been implying.

As if he would actually go after a married woman.

Joel finally speaks, his voice rigid. “Ellie, that ain’t funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny, believe it or not.” She notices the way his jaw clenches and shrugs her shoulders once again. “What?” she bats her eyes innocently, as if she had seen nothing wrong with the statement she had just made. “Oh come on, Joel. You can’t tell me you’re not the slightest bit curious about her marriage.”

“I ain’t,” he lies straight through his teeth. “It ain’t none of my business, and it sure as hell ain’t none of yours either, so don’t you go pokin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong, you understand me? Don’t need you goin’ around and causin’ trouble.”

“Alright, alright. Sheesh. Don’t get so worked up, man. Can’t be good for your blood pressure.”

“Little shit,” he mutters.

Joel and Ellie make it to their destination just after sunset and by that time, the party had started and was already in full swing. The commune’s barn had been completely transformed, cleaned up and cleared out—a dozen tables or so surrounded a decent sized dance floor and bright lights had been strung from the rafters as well as all along the outside of the structure, bringing the place to life. There’s a live band playing music on a small, makeshift stage and the scent of delicious barbecue wafts through the air, causing Ellie’s stomach to grumble.

Joel glances around, hoping it isn’t obvious to the kid as to who he’s looking for, but she’s far too busy processing everything to even notice.

“Whoa. This is so weird,” Ellie mumbles under her breath as she takes in her surroundings. Though she had seemed to be thoroughly confused by it all, he detects the glimmer of curious fascination in her wide brown eyes.

“Joel! Ellie!”

Grinning, you wave your hand as you weave your way through the crowd towards them.

Joel’s throat bobs and goes sandpaper dry at the sight of you. It feels like someone had just driven their fist into his gut and knocked all the wind out of his lungs.

The pale yellow frock you’re donning is strapless with a subtle sweetheart neckline, short with a flowing skirt that falls to the middle of your thighs. You’ve dressed it down, pairing it with tan brown cowboy boots that look like they’ve seen better days, and a cropped denim vest. Your hair is loose around your shoulders and there’s a delicate white daisy tucked behind your ear. Simple, but it’s enough to take his breath away. “Hey!” you greet them, excitedly. “You guys made it!”

“Whoa, nice dress, princess,” Ellie nudges you, offering a playful grin in return. She’d been so used to seeing you in your flannel and jeans at the stables—though she’s teasing, there’s a twinkle of admiration in her eyes as she looks at you. It’s a world of a difference to see you when you’re not dirty, sweaty, and wearing boots covered in horse shit.

You nudge her right back and then turn to Joel. “You look very nice,” you compliment, subtly admiring the way that his shirt fits the broad planes of his chest and his shoulders.

“He showered for once. Doesn’t he look pretty?” Ellie jeers, causing him to roughly smack her shoulder. She rubs the spot where he’d hit her, making a face at him. “Relax man, it was a fucking joke. Jesus.”

Ignoring her, Joel shifts his attention back to you. “You look real nice too.”

“Thank you, Joel.” There’s a hint of shyness in your smile.

He couldn’t be too sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn he’d just seen you give his form another once over.

“I’m really glad you two decided to join us.” Gesturing around with your hands, you ask, “What do you guys think?”

“It’s some shindig, that’s for sure,” Joel remarks, taking another glimpse around. He aches to take another look at you, let his eyes glaze over every last inch of you, but he knows better, especially with his loud mouth kid standing right there in the middle.

“It’s like I told you yesterday, Joel. People still know how to get down and party,” you wink at him and his heart skips a nervous beat. “Come with me, I’ll get you guys a couple of drinks.”

“Drinks?” Ellie’s face is hopeful. “What kind of drinks?”

“Nonalcoholic for you, missy.” You flick her shoulder, causing Joel to chuckle. “The drinking age in Jackson is eighteen, although some kids can have a drink or two at sixteen on special occasions as long as their parents are around to supervise them.”

“Well, I’m fifteen. That’s close enough to sixteen. And I’ve got my supervisor right here.” She jabs her thumb over her shoulder at Joel. “I can have a real drink tonight, right Joel?”

He snorted. “Not a fuckin’ chance in hell, kiddo.”

She scowls. “Fucking party pooper.”

You lead them over to one of several coolers that are strategically placed around the barn and pull out a bottle of fresh squeezed lemonade for Ellie and a bottle of beer for Joel. Twisting off the cap, he takes his first sip of the homemade brew and makes a face, coughing and sputtering at the taste. “Jesus Christ, that’s fuckin’ awful.”

“Sorry, I should have warned you that Seth is still trying to perfect his beer recipe,” you giggle into the palm of your hand. “His whiskey is a whole lot better, but it’s really strong. I wanted to start you off light.”

In the distance, you see Esther watching Joel with hungry eyes from across the barn. She’s turning heads in the skintight, cherry red dress she’s wearing underneath her denim jacket—the material hugs every single curve tightly, accentuating her perfect figure. She’s nursing a glass of something or other, probably still working up the courage to introduce herself to Joel. You’d hoped that by the time she was finally ready to make her move, you’d find it in yourself to accept it with grace.

Or be somewhat drunk enough not to care.

The band on stage finishes up their rendition of Life is a Highway and everyone in the barn breaks into whistling cheers and thunderous applause.

Impressed with their talent, even Ellie finds herself clapping her free hand against her thigh with genuine enthusiasm.

The band moves onto their next song and the familiar tune of one of your favorite songs, Dancing in The Moonlight, instantly takes your mind off of Esther and lifts your spirits.

“Oh, I love this song!” you exclaim. “Ellie, dance with me!”

“Wait, what in the fuck—” Ellie gasps as you grab her hand and started tugging her along behind you. She immediately glances at Joel for help. He simply chuckles as he plucks her lemonade from her hand and lets you drag her a few feet away to a spot on the dance floor.

Smiling, you spin her around a couple of times and then take both her hands in yours as you start leading her in the dance. It takes Ellie a minute or two, but she eventually stops resisting and gives in, moving along with you.

“Yeah, there you go!” you beam, encouraging her. “That’s it!”

“Oh, I’m so gonna fucking kill you for this!” Ellie threatens, however, her eyes are sparkling and she’s laughing. Her fingers squeeze yours. “Hey, this song’s pretty fucking cool! I like it!”

Taking a swig of his beer, Joel watches as you and Ellie dance together.

He feels a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as his eyes drink in the sight of his girl smiling brightly—she looks happy, so ridiculously happy, and he wishes there was a way for him to bottle up this memory just like a scent, one that never faded or grew stale. He would give just about anything to have it stashed away, available for him to open up whenever he wanted so he could relive the moment all over again, for as many times as he needed.

“Everybody here is out of sight, they don’t bark and they don’t bite,” you sing the lyrics to her as you twirl her around once more. “They keep things loose, they keep ‘em tight, everybody was dancing in the moonlight—”

“This is so fucking weird,” Ellie laughs again, mustering the courage to finally take a turn and spin you around. She grasps your hand tightly in hers and her opposite hand flies to your waist. She eventually finds the constant beat to the song and connects rhythmically with you, her moves falling in sync with yours, though she would still take a clumsy step here and there.

As the band moves into the next verse of the song, your gaze meets Joel’s from the dance floor and you lean forward, whispering something to Ellie.

She eagerly nods her head, shouting, “Fuck yeah! Do it!”

Ellie drops her hands away from you and you leave her alone on the dance floor for a moment. Rushing up to Joel, you take his bottle of beer and set it down on the table beside him before reaching for his hand.

The contented smile on his face vanishes. “Darlin’ what are you—?”

“Come on! Come and dance with us!” you chirp, dragging him over towards where Ellie’s waiting, an amused smirk plastered onto her face as soon as she sees the flabbergasted look on his.

“I—I don’t dance.” Joel quickly tries to tell you. He makes an attempt to stop you from pulling him any further, but you’re a lot fucking stronger than you look and he doesn’t stand a chance. “I can’t dance!”

“Don’t be silly!” You dismiss him over your shoulder, shaking your head. “Everybody can dance!”

“Come on, Joel!” Ellie shouts, taking his other hand in hers. “Let’s see you shake what you got!”

In his peripheral vision, Joel notices a few people gawking, watching in bewilderment as the two standoffish newcomers dance with you, the town’s resident sweetheart.

“Joel, relax,” you call out over the music, shaking his hand. “Don’t be so uptight! Loosen up a little!”

He tries his hardest to do just that. Though he’s too embarrassed to fully comply with your request, at some point, he does find himself moving a little less like the tinman.

The three of you sway to the upbeat music together in your own little corner of the dance floor.

Holding your hand in one of his and Ellie’s in the other, Joel finally decides to let go and allows himself to enjoy the moment, regardless of how terrible of a dancer he is. He moves with the two of you along to the music, a deep belly laugh escaping him as Ellie tries to spin him around—their significant height difference makes it impossible, and all she does is mess up his hair as her arm brushes right over his head.

You try spinning him too, but you’re not all that much taller than Ellie. Joel bends his knees slightly and ignores their protest long enough for you to give him a twirl.

When the song ends, the three of you move off of the dance floor and back over towards the table where their drinks are waiting for them.

“Gotta give you credit. You’ve got some moves, old man,” Ellie states, taking a sip of her lemonade. Beads of sweat drip down the side of her face and she wipes them away with the sleeve of her shirt. “Little on the stiff side, but not bad for being fifty six with creaking knees.”

You muffle your snort of laughter with your hand.

Joel glowers, but truth be told, he can’t even be mad at her for the jab. He’d finally caught a glimpse of Ellie being truly, genuinely happy, the way she deserves to be—and it was all thanks to you.

“Hello!”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smile as Dina comes up to the three of you. She seems nervous—you can tell by the way that she’s already pulling at her sunflower printed dress.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You kiss her cheek and then introduce her. “Joel, Ellie, this is my niece, Dina. Dina, this is Joel and Ellie.”

Ellie flushes a deep shade of red as she recognizes her from her first day in Jackson.

“What about her manners?” She remembered snapping when she’d noticed the dark haired girl hiding behind a wooden pillar in the mess hall, staring at Ellie as if she were some kind of freakshow.

“Ellie,” Joel mutters her name, jabbing his elbow into her shoulder. “Say hello.”

“Oh—um, hey,” she greets her awkwardly with a wave of her hand.

“Would you like to go grab something to eat with me?” Dina offers shyly as she gestures over towards the grill.

Ellie nervously glances up at Joel, as if she were silently asking him for guidance on what to do.

“Go on,” he encourages her. “Just stay out of trouble, alright?”

She hesitates, but then turns back to Dina and nods her head. “Okay.”

Reluctantly, she follows Dina over to the other side of the barn. The girls each grab a plate, get in line, and make their way up to Tommy, who not only seems pleasantly surprised to see Ellie, but to see her with someone other than his brother.

“Niece, huh?” Joel questions, taking another sip of his beer.

You’re not surprised.

Dina doesn’t look all that much like you, he’s probably thinking.

“Technically, she is. My husband is her uncle,” you explain, briefly. “After her parents passed away, he and his other niece, her older sister, Talia, they both raised Dina together. We were all living together under one roof until Maria decided Talia was old enough to be assigned a place of her own a couple of years ago.”

“Speakin’ of your husband.” Joel anxiously shoves his free hand into his pocket. He wasn’t sure how he’s only just now noticing the thin, gold wedding band around your ring finger. Seeing it causes an odd feeling to begin boiling in the pits of his stomach—the ring only confirms what he wished wasn’t true. “I haven’t had the chance to meet him yet. He, uh—he around here somewhere?”

“No, he isn’t. He decided to stay home tonight. Luke isn’t a big fan of these kind of things—besides, he’s always tired from working.”

Joel observes the way you uncomfortably shuffle from foot to foot and he wonders if maybe it’s because you’re missing him. The thought only makes the foreign feeling in his stomach intensify. “He’s the doctor around here, ain’t he?”

You nod. “He is.”

Before you have the chance to change the subject, you catch a glimpse of Esther making her way over towards you and Joel.

Your heart sinks deeply in your chest, similarly to the way it had earlier when she’d told you about Tommy wanting to set them up together. Again, you’re forced to remind yourself that you don’t have any right to feel this way.

She slinks up to the both of you—it’s clear she’s already tossed a number of drinks back and had quite the buzz going on. “Hi there,” she practically purrs at Joel. She glances at you, as if she’s waiting for you to introduce them to one another. Of course she would assume that you’d be her wingwoman. Hell, what reason would she have not to think that you would be willing to lend a hand and help set her up with him?

She’s not the one with a husband waiting at home.

“Joel, this is my friend, Esther,” you finally speak, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as shaky to either of them as it does to you. “Esther, this is Joel Miller. He’s Tommy’s older brother.”

“Nice to meet you.” Joel takes her hand, giving it a brief shake before quickly dropping it.

“Now, I know you didn’t give him Seth’s shitty ass beer to drink. We all know his whiskey is way, way better,” Esther comments, shaking her head as she offers him her best, flirty smile. “Come with me, cowboy. Let’s go and get you a real drink over at the bar.”

“Oh no, that’s alright. M’perfectly fine—” Before Joel can finish protesting, Esther takes his bottle, hands it over to you, and then grabs his hand, dragging him off towards the bar.

Frowning, he looks over his shoulder at you and you have no choice but to make an encouraging gesture with your hand as if to tell him to go and have a good time.

Once Joel and Esther are out of your sight, you lift the bottle to your lips, draining every last drop of his beer in one swallow. You pivot on the heel of your boot and start towards a group of friendly, familiar faces in hopes that some mindless chatter would be enough to get your mind off of things and tame the jealousy that’s clawing furiously at your insides.

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