#works by i-love-def-leppard

[i-love-def-leppard]

I Wanna Touch You (Joe Elliott x Reader) - Part 2 🔥

A/N: At last…Part 2 is finally here!!! Here is the link to Part 1 if you haven’t read it yet or would like to reread :) I apologize again for taking forever to publish this part of the one-shot. Most of you have heard I’ve been super busy recently, experiencing some writers block, and accidentally deleting HALF of the story when I was almost finished *sigh.* Please keep in mind that this is my first time writing smut so please bear with me for this one. I promise I will get better with some time! Anyways, I’ll shut up now and let you get to reading!! I hope you enjoy!! ♥️

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WARNING: detailed smut ahead ‼️

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1983 Pyromania Tour - backstage

After what felt like forever, the boys were finally done their set.

You see Joe quickly making his towards you at the side of the stage where he left you standing in demand, seconds before he walked on.

He quickly tosses his microphone to his roadie, taking the final steps to meet your figure.

“Fucking finallyyy.” Joe exhales as he grabs his hands towards you.

He waists no time, pulling you into him by your waist, placing hungry kisses to your lips. He kisses the corner of your mouth, slowly moving downwards to plant sloppy kisses along your jaw.

Softly moaning at his touch, you bring your hands up to lightly tug at his hair, sweaty from what felt like the longest gig ever.

“Mmm, Joe” you moan into his ear.

As soon as the noise leaves your mouth, your eyes grow wide, quickly remembering that you are still surrounded by many members of the band and their crew.

Shit.

“Gonna give us a free show, eh?” Phil laughs as you look up and see the rest of the band standing right there.

“In your dreams, Collen.” Joe shoots back after he reluctantly pulls his lips off your neck. “C’mon, love. Let’s go somewhere where we have some more privacy, hmm?”

“Yes, I’d like thatt. Lead the way, baby…bye boys!” you giddily respond. Joe adding to the humor by jokingly flipping them off.

After earning gross looks from the rest of the band, Joe grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into the direction of his dressing room.

“NO SHAGGING IN MY ROOM! GOT IT!?” you hear Sav yell from behind you. Flashbacks quickly flood your memory, remembering the time you both mistook his dressing room for Joe’s resulting in…

Well, let’s just say, Sav was rather traumatized.

With this, you and Joe can’t help but let out childlike giggles as you make your way to his room, knowing how much you’ve grossed out the rest of the band.

When you finally reach Joe’s dressing room, the laughing mood between you both changes in an instant.

Joe kicks open the door, quickly locking it behind him, immediately pinning you up against it.

Your lips hungrily attach to one another like magnets. You felt like you have already waited too long for him, so you pick up the pace by parting your lips, letting Joe’s tongue explore your mouth.

Wow. He is such a good kisser. I could come undone right now.

Your hands tug at his hair while his squeeze at your breasts, skillfully making their way down down to your ass.

“Damn, Y/N. All I could think about during the set was you and ripping this perfect little outfit off.”

Joe says, gasping for air against your mouth as both of your hands desperately roam one another, starved all night to touch.

“Please, Joe. I can’t wait any longer. I need more.” you desperately plead into his ear, reaching for his belt.

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll take good care of ya.”

He replies as you feel him reach down in between your thighs, slowly pushing them apart so he can fit his hand in between.

“Fuck. I forgot you weren’t wearing anything under this skirt.”

“You are such a fucking tease, you know that?” he growls into your ear as you start to feel him rub his long fingers through your slick folds.

“Ohh, Joe.” you whine at the sudden attention to your clit.

“So wet for me already, baby?” he praises you as he forces your chin up with his free hand. You are now forced to look deep into his darkened eyes.

“You look so pretty right now. Goddd- I’m so lucky.” Joe says in admiration, right before he pushes two of his long fingers into your entrance.

“Ohh, fuck! Feels so good!” you moan into his mouth. His lips sloppily cover yours, muffling the rest of the sounds trying to escape your lungs.

Knowing you want to feel more, Joe picks up the pace of his fingers. You can’t help but to grind your hips against his palm and the prominent bulge in his leather pants, looking for as much friction as possible. This earns a deep groan to escape his throat.

“Feel good, hm? Shit- I can’t wait to get inside of you.” he pants, already out of breath as he watches you fall apart for him.

Coming close to your fast release and your legs threatening to collapse, your heart rate increases and your moans get louder.

Your boyfriend knew all the tell-tale signs your body makes before an orgasm, but you can’t help but remind him.

“Joe- I can’t last much longer” you moan into his mouth.

With this confession, Joe quickly pulls his fingers out of you causing a loud whine to escape your mouth from the sudden lack of contact.

You are left standing against the door, your face flustered red, as you watch your boyfriend’s lips curve upwards into a grin inches away from you.

“What the hell? I was so close! Why’d you stop?” you whine as you watch him raise his middle two fingers to his face.

Your jaw drops as you watch him push those two slick-covered fingers into his mouth, sucking your juices clean off.

Fuckk. That was so hot.

“You taste so good, love” he smirks. “You thought you could just tease me earlier without receiving any consequences? Tsk- now you know how it feels, hm?” he playfully taunts you.

“Please, Joe. This is torturee. I need to cum.” you beg.

“Hm- alright, love. I’ll let you off easy this time, but only because you asked so nicely.” He replies, not being able to tease you any longer.

He too was getting increasingly desperate for some relief.

You attack each other’s bodies again trying to get as much clothing off as possible.

“Fuck, Y/N. As sexy as these tits look in this top, they’ll look even better with it off.” he says ripping it off of you and throwing it to the ground.

“And fuck it-. You’re leaving this dirty little skirt on. I wanna watch you get fucked with it on” he growls into your ear.

Whimpering at his filthy words, you go straight to pulling his Union Jack shirt up and off his head. You throw it to the side. Then, you grab his handcuff belt, working on getting that undone.

As you work on his belt, Joe attacks your neck with his mouth like his life depends on it.

There will definitely be marks later.

Hooking your long nails into the waistband of his underwear and leather pants, you lower them down both at once. Joe steps out of them, exposing what you have been waiting for all night.

“Shit, Joe.” you admire, sucking in the breath of air you forgot to breathe due to the sight before you.

No matter how many times you’ve seen your boyfriend naked, he never fails to impress you with his size.

“Like what ya see?” he proudly questions.

“Mmhmm, yes. Anddd…I’m gonna prove it.” you purr against his lips.

Suddenly taken over by a dominant urge, you place your hands on his chest, gently pushing him back onto the couch behind him.

He lays completely undressed with his back lying flat against the cool leather material. Just the position you want him in.

“Wow, Y/N/N. I could cum right now, just from looking at you.” He says admiring you through the top of his eyelids as you stand over him, ready to pounce.

His words are all it takes for you to throw your legs over his, straddling your entrance just over his twitching cock.

Before you allow yourself to sink down on him, you bring your face to his saying, “I love you, Joe,” softly kissing his lips.

“I love you too, Y/N. So much.” he wholeheartedly says right before sucking in a sharp breath, failing to notice your sneaky hand traveling down in between your bodies to stroke his aching cock.

“Fuuucckkk-” he moans with relief.

With this relieving sensation, Joe is now the one falling apart for you.

After a few pumps, you rub the tip of his cock in between your folds, collecting as much wetness as possible before slowly sinking down on him.

“God, you feel so good.” Joe grunts into your ear.

You quickly both gain a steady rhythm that pleases the both of you.

“Mmmphh-” you loudly moan, adjusting to his size.

Joe’s hips buck up into your g-spot with hard thrusts, adding to your pleasure as you ride him with all of your energy.

Palming your hands on his chest, your hands can’t help sometimes trail downwards, tracing the patch of hair leading down to his shaft.

Your hands grip his shoulders for support, in fear you may already collapse.

“These perfect tits. Damn-”Joe swallows heavily while he massages them with both hands.

Throughout, Joe’s hands switch from playing with your tits to hardly gripping your waist. He pulls you down further onto his dick, grinding against each other with great force.

“Ahh- baby you take me so well.” Joe praises you.

You start rolling your hips in a circular motion, knowing that this is what throws Joe right over the edge.

“Christ, Y/N, you’re so fucking goo-.” Joe moans as his sentences become slurred due to intense sensations of pleasure.

The slick sounds of his dick pounding into you echoes throughout the room.

“That’s it, baby. Right there. Ah-” he cries.

“S’close- Ohhh my god, Joe!” you scream, not caring if the people on the outside hear you both.

Oh, they can definitely hear us right now.

You notice Joe’s abs flexing more and more, realizing he is getting close too.

“Fuck, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll be able to last any longer with you. I’m about to cum.” he gasps into your mouth as you lean down to kiss him.

“Don’t fucking stop, baby.” he begs on the edge.

“C’mon baby. Cum for me.” panting as you struggle to kiss him back. The feeling of your oncoming orgasm getting increasingly more intense.

“Ohhh. Fucking hell-. Mmmphh. Baby, I’m cumming.” he deeply whines, echoing off the walls.

Thrusting down onto him one more time, you watch as his face contorts in ecstasy, body trembling at the sensation.

“OHHH, Y/N! Ah, fuck- fuckkk!” he deeply moans as his load fills up your insides. His hips continue to thrust up and into your soaked entrance, mindful of making sure you finish at the same time.

You sneak your hand down to rub at your clit, causing the well-known sensation to bubble down low in your stomach.

Immediately after Joe, you cum. And -shit- you cum hard.

“OHH!! Joe, mmphh. Fucking hell-” you scream at the top of your lungs as your body completely weakens and shakes from your orgasm.

The hand giving attention to your clit drops to your side in weakness, giving Joe the opportunity to take over the motion, helping your ride out your high.

“There you go, baby.” he says sweetly, watching your body shake and collapse on his chest. Your face now resting in the crook of his neck.

Shortly after, he slowly pulls out of you causing the familiar warm sensation to creep down your legs.

You both lay there for a minute or two, allowing yourselves to come down from your high. The smell of sex fills the room.

“Wow. That was so fucking hot, Y/N.” he says, catching his breath. “You did so good for me, love.”

Unable to form a proper response at the moment, you just tilt your head up to his, planting a sweet kiss to his lips.

“I love you, Y/N.” he says.

“I love you too, Joe. You have no idea-” you reply lifting your head to look into his eyes.

He laughs saying, “Oh, but I dooo. You proved yourself pretty well just now, love.” he smirks as he gently squeezes your hip in a teasing manner.

Giggling, you can’t help the pink shade that rises to your cheeks created by a mix of pride and slight embarrassment at your performance just moments ago.

“Sooo…what do ya say-? Round two when we get back to the hotel?” Joe asks.

“Oh, definitelyyy.”

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#joe elliott x reader #joe elliott fanfiction #def leppard x reader #joe elliott smut #works by i-love-def-leppard #def leppard fan fiction #def leppard fanfic #joe elliott fanfic #joe elliott #def leppard

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

SOS Emergency (Joe x Reader)

Words: 2,496

Prompt: Remember in February when Joe was hospitalized in Colombia and we all collectively had a panic attack? :) This is just a lil headcannon about what happened that day. I wrote this darling little sickfic that same day to cope with the insane amount of Worried Wife Energy I had.

TW: illness, vomiting, fainting, hospital

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February 24th, 2023

Bogotá, Colombia

Joe huffed, out of breath and face-down over the toilet. All of his body weight slumped against the bowl for support; his stomach having just ejected his minimal dinner from earlier. His fingers shook with the stress, pain pounding through his skull as he felt his stomach beginning to calm down.

Okay, he quickly speculated, So I've got food poisoning. Not uncommon after trying something in a different country. Lucky me, I guess.

As he took in another breath when the urge hit him, he felt the room suddenly spin. His lungs had tightened without warning, causing him to let out a desperate cough with a hand on his chest. He focused on taking in his breaths carefully, but each one proved to be just as difficult as the last. The pulse in his ears and the slight wheezes that came with his inhalations seemed to be the only things he could hear at the moment.

So, maybe not food poisoning, then.

A hand laid on Joe's back, and he jumped in surprise at the touch. He heard voices echoing back to him, calling his name and sounding concerned. It was here he realized he wasn't alone, and that he'd temporarily forgotten this fact. 

"Breathe, Joe," he heard your voice first, "Keep breathing, be sick if you need to."

Had I fainted? he wondered. He couldn't seem to recall things from the minute before he found himself spewing over the loo in his hotel room. The lightheadedness that knocked him around seemed to further support his mind's new argument of a potential fainting spell.

As more sensations came back to him, Joe also realized you were holding his platinum white hair back from his face. It was a good thing you were, too, as the thought to do so had never occurred to him. This sensation of you gently tugging at his locks began to trigger a wave of remembrance in him, and everything from the moment prior came suddenly back.

Joe had been with you all evening, complaining of  the thin air of the city, feeling generally sick, and being overly tired from a headache. Those were only two of his complaints, which were then accompanied by comments in the midst of your conversations about his chest feeling tight and stomach feeling "off". You both passed it off as nerves and/or jet lag, yet Joe continued to air his gripes to you as the evening went on and his symptoms rose.

Just when you were both ready to turn into bed for the night (on account of his ailment worsening), Joe had paused upon feeling the room teeter around him.

His chest tightened up for about the 8th time that day, but somehow worse. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, gripping his chest and sensing the struggle in his breath. 

Hearing him become labored, you asked if he was alright.

Before he answered, the quickly-approaching wave of dizziness moved his stomach around like a boat in rough water, and he felt the sudden urge to heave. You saw his eyes widen in fear as he went to haul himself up as fast as he could. He did so faster than his weakened body allowed, causing his eyes to briefly roll back into his head as he slid out of the bed with a wheeze.

All he remembers next is fighting to gasp for breath in between the quick waves of sudden vomiting, not listening to a word you said or hearing anything you may have done. He didn't even remember practically crawling to the nearby bathroom after he'd hit the floor; he supposed it was his instinct that got him there by default.

Joe rested his head on his arm against the seat after the expulsion had stopped. He didn't dare open his eyes out of fear of seeing whatever had come back up from his stomach a second ago.

"He sounds like he can't breathe-" your voice came back to his ears as if you were worriedly informing a third person. When Joe heard you flush the toilet above him, he wanted to thank you for reading his thoughts so clearly. However, too spent and too out of breath to speak, he kept it to himself.

"It's not just food poisoning," Phil's voice rang out from the doorway behind him, "Christ, he's shakin' like a leaf..."

Joe had not remembered Phil being in the room a moment ago. He knew he was right next door, so perhaps you had called him over once you realized there was a serious problem afoot.

"Well if he'd say something, maybe we would know," your hand gently and tenderly gripped his shoulder, "Talk to us, sweetie- tell us what's wrong."

Joe tilted his head in the direction of your voice, the weight of his fatigue still making his eyelids plummet. It was strange, you thought, seeing him appear so pallid. Spending all day in the Colombian sun had apparently not left any evidence on his skin.

Still, he knew he had to use whatever breath he had wisely, so he quickly deciphered what was more important to say to you both first before anything else.

"Chest's tight... I can't... really breathe well..." he coughed downwards before continuing, "Heart's poundin'. Don't wanna move..."

Phil asked, "Does he feel warm at all?"

The cold fingers of your hand swept across his forehead, making him twitch in surprise again.

"He doesn't have a fever," you noted to Phil, "You don't suppose..."

You didn't dare list anything serious in front of Joe. Out of fear of putting any more stress on him, you shut your mouth. Your empty sentence spoke to Phil too much, however, as he heard the dire implications behind it.

"No, no. It just doesn't seem like it-" he shook his head in denial, but his voice didn't sound entirely convinced of what he was reassuring you with, "-maybe it's the thin air makin' him sick?"

"Could be... but this bad?"

"Regardless, I'm calling Mike right now and letting him know we gotta take him to a hospital. Stay here with him and call me if he gets any worse-"

Phil turned on his heels and hurried back to his room as calmly and quickly as possible to grab the phone he'd left there a moment before. As soon as you'd texted him, simply stating "I need help, Joe's sick, get over here NOW," he'd- quite literally- dropped everything and ran.

"Joey, we gotta get you to a doctor," you rubbed his back and softly told him, "You're gonna have to try and stand up."

Joe groaned weakly at your words, lifting his head and hovering over the bowl again with a gag as he anticipated another contraction of his stomach. 

He shook his head with a desperate, "Hold me... I think I'm-"

Getting on your knees at his side, your arm went around his shoulders to keep him steady over the bowl as he heaved again with a grunt of discomfort. You let him be sick, keeping his thin hair out of the line of fire like you did the last time. You were certain he would not be sick again once he'd finished; this was just the aftershock from when he was sick before. 

Your voice was as gentle and calm as you could make it in such an urgent moment, "It's okay, don't fight it- it'll pass..."

As scared for him as you were, you couldn't begin to imagine how terrified he might have felt. Mysterious illness in a foreign country? Definitely something you could live without.

"Just keep trying to breathe- even if it's hard. Do what you can- in and out..."

Joe coughed harshly a few times, reaching up and flushing the toilet again. You saw his one hand on the toilet seat trembling with his fast pulse. You even noticed him slightly swaying as if he were off balance like he'd been earlier that night, hence the request for you to hold him steady as he vomited.

He kept his head hung, focusing all his energy on breathing along with you. You sweetly reassured him time after time that he was doing great and that he was getting better, hoping it would give him more will to stand up when Phil came back with Mike. Each inhale and exhale was accompanied by a long, smooth stroke of your hand on his back in order to synchronize your breaths.

"What... the fuck is wrong... with me...?" he huffed tiredly, evidence of whimpering in his voice.

"We're gonna find out, baby, and you're gonna be alright."

And after a minute, he was away from the toilet, and you were both sitting against the wall on the bathroom floor together. Whatever was ailing your 63 year-old lover, it had dramatically broken him down into an almost child-like state of desperation for comfort. Joe was now curled up both against and over you, almost lifeless except for his labored breathing and trembling. He was so drained and weakened that you thought he was turning a new shade of pale; one similar to the stark white of his sleek hair. 

Still, you had to put your worries away for the moment. Joe needed you, and you had to be tough and focused for him.

It was this way that Mike and Phil found you a minute later, and with their help, you got Joe off the ground, into his shoes, and out the door.

***

Joe ended up being admitted to the ER with dyspnea and heart palpitations. In the end, it turned out that Phil was right from the start; the culprit behind this mystery was acute mountain sickness.

Simply the fact Joe was not acclimated to the city's altitude had made him terribly sick. It almost made you laugh, but you knew it was nothing to laugh about. The combination of him being at a different barometric pressure and also not getting enough oxygen was what caused this urgent episode. You didn't even know that this sort of thing was possible- neither of you did- but now it was very real and very scary.  

"If that doesn't scream 'I'm a foreigner', I don't know what does," Joe weakly laughed in bed. He was speaking more (not like you or anyone could stop him), now that he was put on oxygen. Of course, he was trying to add light air to the worried energy of the room that hadn't gone away yet.

Despite the joke, you could tell he was thoroughly shaken-up and still far from feeling well, so you had joined him in his hospital bed to intertwine your fingers together.

Luckily, the doctors in Bogotá were more than familiar with his condition, since the elevation of the city was often too much for visitors. The chosen course of action was to pump Joe full of medications, oxygen, and fluids to get him back to normal. He was- just as well- hooked up to what felt like every monitor imaginable as a precaution.

No amount of Joe's chipper remarks could have turned the mood around.

"Never do that again," you quietly warned him in a serious tone, "You're not allowed to scare me like that."

"What, with the joke?"

"No- with falling ill like this!"

"Oh come on, all I did was get sick."

"No, actually- you looked at me like you were terrified for your life, then you went-" an imitation of his wheezing followed suit, followed by you making your eyes roll back. You fell back against the bed in an attempt to mimic Joe's fainting, "And fell out of bed!"

"But that-"

You disregarded his attempts to speak and went on, "Then before I could get to you, you got up and basically threw yourself on the floor at the toilet, and-"

You made a puking sound and motion.

"Not to mention this entire time, you kept saying you couldn't breathe!"

Falling silent afterwards, you made eye contact with him for a brief moment, then looked away.

"You scared the living shit out of me, Joe," you very quietly admitted, trying not to sound emotional, "I thought something was..."

A shuddery breath accidentally slipped through as your tears of panic couldn't hide themselves anymore. You had kept your cool this entire time, as you knew you had to be strong and focused for his sake. Now that Joe was safe and out of danger, this cool could no longer be kept.

"Oh love, don't cry for me," he softly requested, untangling your fingers and resting a hand on your thigh.

You were quick to shake your head, "Well I am, because that was terrifying and I never wanna go through that again-!"

"Neither do I, but I'm better now! Not completely, but still better- and it's because of you."

You sniffed and scoffed, "And a doctor or two."

Joe stressed his last point, "And you."

He slowly lifted his arm up from your leg to put it around you lazily.

"Sure, the doctors are treating me, but you were the first one to care for me. I don't want to even think about what would've happened if you weren't there in our room... if I were alone without you..."

"Awh, baby..." you put a hand on his leg, squeezing just a little, "You'll never be alone as long as I'm here..."

His head flopped against yours. He kept quiet for a few hesitant seconds before sleepily declaring, "I love you... I hope you know you're my hero."

 "...and I hope you know you're on drugs, Mr. Woozy."

He turned to kiss your head, "But still capable, still coherent, and still doing the show tomorrow. The doctors even said so."

"I know, I know- you made it very clear on the ride here that you're doing the show tomorrow," you wiped your tears away, "But you're not going to force it! Don't let that oxygen go to your head and make you delirious."

 "You should try some of this oxygen, too, you know-" he tapped the small tubes going into his nostrils, "You'll feel like a new person, I swear..."

"I think you should probably try sleeping like the doctors said- before you get any other ideas. You had a rough day," your hand held onto his fingers that draped around your neck as you added on in a much more quiet, much more loving voice, "And don't worry, I will be right here with you... cos' I'm your 'hero'."

Joe smiled down at you, the wooziness apparent in his eyes. He was mellowed down; more honest and genuine at the moment. He was feeling peace for the first time in a while, and with that came a lot of euphoric love he had the pressing need to express.

"My hero," he repeated in a quiet grumble, letting his eyes flutter shut as he drifted near slumber, "My fearless protector."

   ���  The end

#i just wanted to be there for him so bad or can't you tell #joe's not allowed to be sick not after all the mumps and pneumonia and trapped nerves and laryngitis and deviated septum and rotator cuff a #def leppard #joe elliott #original content #def leppard fanfic #joe elliott fanfic #joe elliott x reader #def leppard x reader #also we love phil phil's a real bro #posting this from work bc i'm working on memorial day and there is NO one in here

[make-me-your-animal]

#my husband being the work of art he is #i love him so fucking much #def leppard #phil collen

[amiscreations]

been thinking about this for a while 

#Phil and his guitar and Roger and his Car #omg that rhymed #poetic #iconic love stories that should be passed down through generations- #they're also both fluffy blonde bois who have super underrated vocals #tbh I wouldn't say that Im In Love With My Car is sappy #but it works within the meme pls let me off just this once #This Guitar on the other hand... #sap fest #it has me sobbing every time your honour #Def Leppard #Phil Collen #Diamond Star Halos #Queen #Queen band #Roger Taylor #Night at the Opera #memes

[lovebugism]

Omg bug we need a part two of “mean” Eddie and reader going on their little date 🤭 if you are up for writing it ofc 😌

pt. 2 of this fic

You didn’t show.

Maybe you just got lost. Eddie figures he shouldn’t have expected someone like you to know where The Hideout was. Or maybe you lost track of time. — but he’d told you the doors opened at seven o’clock sharp, and you’d repeated it back to him. He knows you did because you’d said it in that voice you use when you get all shy, as soft and as low as your meek gaze when you peered at him through your lashes.

But you weren’t just late. You weren’t fashionably late, either. You just never showed up.

Eddie wishes he didn’t care as much as he did.

He told himself he didn’t when you weren’t there at seven, but he looked for you in the meager crowd of twenty when eight o’clock rolled around anyway. 

He’d wanted to see you in the front row. He dreamt of putting on the best show The Hideout’s ever seen right before dedicating some cheesy love ballad to you. 

“This is for a really special someone in the crowd tonight,” he would’ve said into the microphone that smelled like beer. “You know who you are. Don’t let this go to your head, either, alright?” 

He even made the band practice Hysteria by Def Leppard so he could play it for you that night — so the lyrics could tell you everything he couldn’t — but you weren’t there to hear them. 

They ended up playing Love Bites instead.

He spends another two hours moonlighting as a rockstar.

Still in his ripped jeans and eyeliner, he slings a towel over his shoulder and ties an apron around his waist — a busboy all over again. He always forgets how sleazy The Hideout is until he’s got to clean it up. 

He mops sticky floors and wipes down grimy tables and tries to ignore the stinging in his chest every time he remembers that you were supposed to keep him company through it all.

A knock sounds at the front door at eleven o’clock. 

It’s Tuesday night — the place is empty now. Eddie’s been around long enough to know when drunks are out looking for a fix.

“We’re closed!” he shouts, more focused on scrapping off the syrupy ringed stain on the table than the relentless inebriate outside.

“C’mon, Eddie, it’s cold!” a familiar voice pleads, muffled through the door. “You’re not mad enough to let me freeze to death out here, are you?”

Eddie nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns to look over his shoulder. 

You stand behind the foggy glass, mostly blurry but still beautiful. The bouquet of purple and red tulips is nearly as pretty as the smile your pair them with. Your floral skirt swishes around your ankles as the wind blows. Eddie winches when he sees you shiver.

He rushes to the door, scrambling with the keyring clipped to his belt loop. His sweaty hands fumble with the chain. It takes him three tries to get it in the lock. 

“Shit. Sorry,” he stammers. “I didn’t think it was you.”

“I figured. It’s okay.” 

You walk through the door he holds open for you, the spring night breeze following close behind. Eddie shuts and locks the door again.

You spin on your heel to face him and hold the flowers out between you. “These are for you,” you tell him — soft and low and timid.

Eddie grins.

“These are very metal, sweetheart,” he teases. The plastic wrapping crinkles as he takes them by the stem.

“I felt bad for being so late,” you grimace. “Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

“What flower shop is even open this time of night?”

“Zippy’s,” you answer curtly, gaze ducking down to your shoes a moment later.

“You went to a gas station all the way across town to get me flowers?”

You nod.

“No wonder you were late,” he scoffs. 

He saunters past you, then spins so he’s walking backward and facing you. His wild hair sways around his face. He clutches the bouquet to his chest. “Here I thought you off seeing some other schmuck.”

You roll your eyes, knowing no other schmuck has ever given you the time of day like Eddie has.

“I was late because of work,” you correct. Before you know it, you’re rambling. “I wasn’t on schedule for closing, but my asshole manager wouldn’t let me clock out. And I couldn’t call you because I don’t have your number, and I couldn’t find The Hideout in the yellow pages because it’s so old and—”

“Hey. It’s okay,” Eddie assures, practically cooing. It’s the softest he’s ever been with you, and he looks at you just the same — chocolate eyes melting as they twinkle at you. You’re left grieving his gaze when he turns to set the flowers on the counter. 

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” 

Through burning cheeks, you tease. “I thought we agreed you weren’t gonna get soft on me.”

“Oh? You thought that meant I cared that you came?” he scoffs, obviously joking. 

He squints down at you when you appear at his side — turns and presses his hip into the counter, and props his elbow along the top of it. “I’m just happy I got you outta the house. You’re like a damn hermit, you never do anything fun.”

Your face scrunches in discontent. “I have fun!” you correct.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie retorts, nudging your shoulder as he walks past you again — this time heading toward the kitchen. “Sit down. I’ll make you something to eat.”

You’re grateful when he walks to the back without looking over his shoulder at you, lest he become a witness to the beam on your lips that’s far too bright to hide.

Eddie Munson is totally soft on you. 

It’s a good thing, too. Because you’re all but melting for him now.

You sit at the bar with a sweaty beer in your hand. “It’s obviously cheap, but it goes down sweet enough,” Eddie warned when he’d handed it to you. You sip from it, leaning back in your chair with your feet thrown on the one beside you — totally unable to take your eyes off the boy.

You watch through the partition behind the counter as Eddie makes a haphazard effort of basketing leftover chicken tenders and fries. He sets them beneath an orange lamp to warm again.

“A rockstar, busboy, and chef, huh?” you lilt, hiding your smile behind the beer you bring to your lips. “What else can you do?”

“When there’s a pretty girl in front of me?” he retorts as he swipes the crumbs from his palms. He looks at you with a smug grin and shrugs. “Just about anything, I’d guess.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Flirt with me. It’s gross. We don’t do that.”

Eddie laughs to himself, honey eyes squinting. “I’ve been flirting with you for about a year and a half now, sweetheart, but… Thanks for finally noticing.”

He carries the ruby red baskets in both hands when he comes out to sit next to you. You slide your legs off the stool for him — an invitation to be close to you without either of you having to ask.

“Am I gonna get food poisoning from this?” you joke, holding the greasy chicken strip between your fingers.

“The cook made them today,” he scoffs, already tossing a fry into his mouth. He talks as he chews. “Besides, we’d be getting sick together. What’s more romantic than that?”

God, you even think he’s cute when he talks with his mouth full. You’re so far gone for him, it’s not even funny.

Eddie smiles when you take a bite. Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord, your empty stomach thanking you. 

“Good, huh?”

“Amazing,” you correct.

“Gross bars make the best food, I swear.”

You laugh softly together. Def Leppard croons from the speakers overhead. You wonder if Eddie knew this was your favorite band or if your favorite song is only playing by chance. You’re warmed either way.

“How was, uh… How was the show?” you ask him, as curious as you are desperate to fill the silence.

Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans and nods. “It was okay. Same as usual — the crowd was drunk enough to enjoy anything we did.”

“I’m sure it was great,” you retort at his self-deprecating tone, picking shyly at the fries rather than meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

He figures he doesn’t need to tell you about his bleeding heart that was close to breaking a couple of hours ago. You put a bandage over it the second you showed up at The Hideout — with flowers, no less. He’s just glad that you came at all. He meant it when he said that none of the rest matters.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie shrugs through the food in his cheek. “There’s always next time.”

You grin and knock the leg of his chair with your foot. “Already asking me out on a second date, huh?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” he jokes through glowing cheeks. He tilts his head towards his shoulder. “But I’m not paying for your ticket next time, princess.”

Your smile widens. You prop your cheek on your knuckles, unabashedly gazing over at him. “That’s okay. I’ll be in the front row either way.”

“Promise?” Eddie’s lilt edges on teasing and sincerity. He momentarily abandons his own food as he mirrors your positioning, not realizing he’s leaning closer to you until he’s already doing it.

“Promise,” you nod with a smile so bright he thinks it could rival the sun.

He continues to shorten the distance between you — coming closer closer closer. You watch him, amused, and with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

You want him to kiss you. No, fuck that, you need him to kiss you. But more than anything, you need him to do it first — a cheeky little something to over his head when you’re kissing him later.

And you don’t mean to laugh, but the thought makes a giggle spill from your lips before you can stop it.

The bubbly sound knocks Eddie from his stupor. 

The tip of his nose just barely brushes your own. His glazed-over eyes fly open. He remains still, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow, as he blinks owlishly at you. The pretty pink mouth he was about to kiss you with falls softly agape. 

His head jerks backward a second later, almost in disgust. 

“Shit. Sorry,” he curses. His body shifts away from yours completely as he turns his attention to his half-eaten basket of fries. “That was— That wasn’t cool of me.”

Still smiling, you reach a hand out for his leather-clad forearm. You caress him soothingly there in reassurance. “No. It’s okay—”

“No, that was really fucking weird,” he says, forcing out a laugh.

“Right?” you scoff. “Why would Eddie Munson, the chef-busboy-rockstar, wanna kiss a girl like me?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, tilting his wild head to his shoulder to look at you. 

He finds you with a gleam in your eye, one that’s not usually there because, most times, he’s too busy making fun of you.  A smile hints at the corners of your mouth, barely there and beautiful. It’s a bit smug — twinkling with the satisfaction of finally having the upper hand.

Eddie figures it might pay off to be soft with you sometimes. He never wants you to stop looking at him like this.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he confesses quietly.

Your smile widens. “I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again, eyes flitting away from yours.

“Don’t be,” you promise. Your nose scrunches softly. “…Wanna give it another go?”

His gaze snaps back up to yours. He has to fight the urge to tease you, lest he ruin the moment he’s been thinking about for months. He’ll be damned if he lets the opportunity slip away from him now.

“Sure you’re not gonna laugh at me this time?” he lilts, looking at you from halfway beneath his lashes.

“I’m not gonna laugh at you,” you promise, though a grin’s already threatening to pull at your mouth.

“Promise?��

“Well, I can show you better than I can tell you.”

You let Eddie lean in first. He exhales a heavy breath from his nose that fans against your skin when your lips collide. The rosy plush of them lock with yours like they were made to do it. His palms rise to your jaw, keeping you tucked neatly against him when the moment threatens to pull you away. 

Your hands migrate to the lapel of his leather jacket. You tug him further to you — a promise that you’re not going anywhere.

You don’t laugh into his kiss this time.

You smile.

#bug's blurb sleepover #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie spaghetti drabble #st drabbles #published by bug #mean!eddie munson

[libraryofgage]

Steddie PJO AU Part One

One (1) person asked for this, and it was only after I told them I'd had an idea, so, like, fuck it we ball.

The parents of the various kids will be revealed as the series goes on, but I'll look forward to your guesses along the way!

Also, I haven't read the books in a hot fucking minute, but the trailer has had me in a chokehold. This is written more for fun than anything else, so just shut off your brain and enjoy the ride without thinking about accuracy. You'll love it, I promise!

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

With a low, frustrated growl, Eddie tears a page out of his notebook, crumples it into a ball, and throws it on the floor of his tent. All he gets for his troubles is another page of lyrics underneath the first that fail to actually do what he wants. "Fucking shit prophecy," he mutters, tearing that page out, too.

It hits the ground right as Chrissy pokes her head into the tent. She watches it bounce once before settling on the ground. "How's the songwriting?" she jokes, letting the tent's flap fall shut behind her.

"Bad," Eddie says, dropping the notebook and standing. He glares at the paper balls and kicks one away. "Just as bad as the prophecy itself."

"Aww, it's not that bad," Chrissy says, walking a little closer and playfully punching Eddie's arm. Her smile is bright enough to make Eddie feel like he needs sunglasses, and that isn't even because Chrissy's father is Apollo. That's just all her. "At least your prophecy doesn't promise, you know, horrible death."

Eddie scoffs, turning to look at Chrissy as he gestures at his Def Leppard shirt and torn jeans and chunky rings and general metalhead vibe. "Do I look like someone who should be getting that prophecy?" he asks.

He doesn't wait for her to answer before scrunching his face and reciting in a high, mocking voice, "You shall witness an unfair fight between land and sky where feathers with great reluctance fly. And as the sun is shining bright, you shall be swaying in the moon's sweet light."

By the time he's done, he's clasped his hands and held them up to his face with an exaggerated doe-eyed expression. Eddie drops it the moment he finishes, his nose scrunching in disgust as he rolls his eyes. "I have a reputation to uphold, Chrissy."

She doesn't take his complaints seriously. Instead, Chrissy rolls her eyes and sits on the edge of Eddie's cot. "Sure, sure, you're too cool for anything good to happen to you. Still, you might be better off if you didn't try turning that prophecy into something angry."

Eddie huffs, kicks another paper ball, and drops to a crouch next to the cot. After a few seconds, he begrudgingly admits, "Yeah, maybe."

Chrissy sympathetically pats his head, her touch warm and light, and smiles at him. "In other news, we've got another retrieval request for you," she says.

"Oh, boy, work."

"C'mon, you enjoy them," Chrissy says, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. "A cyclops sighted some demigod kids running around with, well, she wasn't sure if he was also a demigod or not. But they won't be safe long when they're clustered together like that, so, go bring 'em back."

She passes Eddie the piece of paper and watches as he unfolds it and frowns at the two words written there: "Athens, Tennessee."

"Are you kidding me? That's so cliche," Eddie says.

"Yeah, but at least it's not California or something."

"Thank fuck for small miracles," Eddie mutters, folding up the paper again and shoving it into his pocket.

Looks like he's got packing to do.

The sun is shining, birds are tweeting, and a cool wind is blowing across the park. Steve lets out a slow breath, his shoulders starting to relax as he leans against a tree and watches Will and Lucas lay out a few blankets, Mike and Dustin get into an argument about the scale proportions of the Parthenon, and Max, Erica, and El throw a frisbee between them.

It's been a long month, one that seemed to be filled with more running and near-death experiences than they're used to. And they're used to a lot of running and near-death experiences.

So, taking a day to just relax in the park sounded great when El suggested it, but Steve had still hesitated. Who knows what could find them if they linger in a park too long. When he voiced these concerns, the kids just banded together to convince Steve, and he relented when they compromised on him bringing the nail bat along.

"Steve, do you wanna lay down?" Lucas asks, gesturing to the blankets. Will is already there, stretched out and smiling up at a rainbow stretching across the sky.

Steve joins them, pulls a Bluetooth speaker out of one of the backpacks holding the blankets down, and connects his phone. Music starts playing, and he sprawls across a blanket, pillowing his head on his arms and taking in the sunshine. "You know, this is nice," he says.

"Yeah. We should do this more often," Will whispers, nearly drowned out by the grass rustling in the breeze.

Between the breeze and the music, Steve starts to drift off, his breathing evening out as his mind wanders. He's half asleep when he hears Dustin shout, "It's a fucking one-to-one asshole!"

His words are quickly followed by Mike shouting back, "Who gives a shit?!"

Steve sighs and adds his own voice to the mix. "Stop fighting!"

"Yeah, guys, stop fighting," Max says, and Steve can imagine her tongue sticking out at them as he hears Erica snort.

"Oh, fuck you," Dustin shoots back.

"That's it!" Steve announces, sitting up and glaring at the kids. "Get over here."

His voice leaves no room for argument, and he'd feel bad at how the kids deflate if he didn't already know they're all menaces. Once he's got all seven kids on the blankets, he sighs and says, "Look, guys, let's not fight. How about we all just sit here for a bit, enjoy the breeze, and then we'll go get lunch."

The kids glance at each other, a silent conversation that Steve barely follows passing between them before Mike nods. "Yeah, sure, I guess."

"Great, now, just re--"

"Oh, how cute!"

The sudden, saccharine voice sets Steve's entire body on edge. He slowly looks over his shoulder, staring at the middle-aged woman smiling down at them. Something about her is familiarly off, but he tries to give her the benefit of the doubt. So, Steve flashes a charming smile and asks, "Hi, can I help you with something?"

The woman's smile turns a little sharp, and she shakes her head. "Oh, no, I just had to commend you on your ability to round up these kids like that," she explains.

Steve hums and pushes himself up, keeping a hold on his bat so he can rest the end on the ground and lean on it. He feels more than sees the kids start to shift until they're behind him. "Well, thanks. Did you want advice or something on caring for your own kids?" he asks.

She laughs, short and grating on Steve's ears, and then tilts her head not unlike a bird. "No, no. It's just impressive that you've managed to keep them alive for so long," she says, her voice distorting and becoming shriller as she speaks.

Yep. There it is.

"Wow, that's even faster than usual," Lucas says.

He's right, which just makes Steve even more upset. Can he not get more than fifteen minutes of peace? Can he not just lay back and enjoy the sunshine without worrying about some monster coming after his kids? Can he not fucking relax for once?

Steve feels the frustration build and build in his chest, crackling through him until he's ready to burst, and he stands up straighter. "I'll give you one warning," he says, his voice low as he watches feathers sprout from the woman's skin. "You walk away right now, and I won't beat the shit out of you."

The woman, who seems to be mostly bird by now and is probably a harpy, just laughs again, like Steve's told her the funniest joke she's ever heard. "You? Defeat me?" she asks, her eyes roaming over Steve before she laughs again. "I am worse than your nightmares. I have eaten more demigods than you can count. I have feasted on their screams and crunched their bones between my teeth, and I look forward to doing the same with these children. What could a lone son of some lesser god possibly do to stop me?"

From behind him, Steve hears a few of the kids inhale sharply, an almost sympathetic sound. "Well, she's done it now," Erica says.

"Yes. Steve is going to kill her," El agrees, her voice soft and brushing against Steve's ears like a tiny snake.

And yeah, they're right. Maybe Steve would have just beaten her unconscious and then gotten the hell out of dodge, but now she's threatened his kids. She's lost any chance at mercy from him.

With a twirl of his bat and a vicious grin, Steve rolls his shoulders back and says, "Wanna find out, overgrown chicken?" he asks.

He doesn't even bother waiting for an answer before swinging his bat, the nails dragging across the harpy's chest and ripping a shriek from her. Now that Steve is thinking about it, violence is also a great way to relieve stress, and he's certainly not going to look a gift harpy in the mouth.

----

If you'd like to be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

#steddie #percy jackson au #semi-divine steddie #that's the tag for this series btw #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #the party #stranger things #stranger things fic #my writing

[steddieas-shegoes]

how are you even alive?

for @steddielovemonth prompt ‘love is watching them do stupid things’

rated t | 1,351 words | cw: minor injury, suggestive language | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, the hurt is Steve being stubborn, the comfort is Eddie loving him even though he should accept help

♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️

Twice a year, Steve deep cleaned the house.

Eddie had never witnessed anything like it before.

It’s not that he and Wayne were slobs, but they just did what was necessary, never spending an entire week going over a checklist a mile long to cover every inch of their house.

Steve did.

He said that when he was young, his parents hired people to do it and he was always fascinated with the way the house smelled so fresh for weeks after. He loved watching something go from dusty to shiny, loved seeing the way the windows glistened without any fingerprints from him.

And as he got older, his parents stopped hiring people and just expected it to get done, so he did. And he loved it.

Eddie couldn’t understand it, but he did love the way Steve’s eyes lit up when they got to his cleaning weeks in March and September. He’d plan it all out on a notepad by room, made a list of cleaning supplies he needed, and put stars next to things Eddie would have to help him with.

There were few stars, thankfully.

Eddie didn’t really mind helping. It was his home, too, and any time spent with Steve was time well spent. But the bleach sometimes bothered his sinuses and he’d end up coughing and sneezing for two days after.

He checked the lists now and noticed his name was only on three things:

Flip mattresses

Gutter cleaning (hold ladder and refill pressure washer)

Bookshelves (remove all books, dust, put books back)

He fist pumped once at the realization that he got off easy this time, much easier than he’d been expecting.

Actually, he almost always was enlisted to help with holding the ladder when Steve dusted the-

A bang interrupted his thoughts and he ran without even thinking what it could be.

He walked into the kitchen to see Steve on their ladder, some kind of homemade cleaning solution in a spray bottle in one hand and a washcloth in the other.

“What was that noise?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Steve reach as far as he could without falling off the ladder. He’d probably land on his feet from that height and be fine, but it wouldn’t exactly feel great.

“Dropped the other bottle I had hanging on my belt. It’s fine, just furniture polish. I can get it when I’m done dusting,” Steve was busy, barely even glanced back at Eddie as he answered.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a supervisor?” Eddie found the furniture polish and set it on the counter, watching as Steve furiously rubbed at the top of the cabinets.

“I don’t. But gutter cleaning is tomorrow and I’ll need one then.”

“Steve…”

“Don’t Steve me. I’m fine! I’m already halfway done.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped away, not wanting to argue with Steve when he was at his happiest.

“Can you put the radio on please, baby? I forgot to before I climbed up here.”

Eddie went over to the radio on the kitchen table and turned it on, surprised to find it tuned to the rock station instead of the hits station.

“Well color me shocked! Were you listening to,” he gasped and held his chest. “Rock?”

“Yes, I was. But if you’re gonna make a big deal about it then change it to the hits,” Steves eye roll was almost audible.

“No, no. Let’s listen to Def Leppard, sweetheart. It’s been my dream for one whole minute to check out your ass while listening to Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

Steve snorted, but continued his work.

Eddie continued watching.

And then Steve wobbled a little. He caught himself, but Eddie stood up straighter.

He wobbles more and Eddie started to move towards the ladder to hold it steady.

But it was too late.

Steve was already falling.

He landed on his ass with a yelp and a groan, the washcloth and bottle flying across the floor.

“Shit, Stevie, you okay?” Eddie crouched down next to him, hands cupping his cheeks as he looked him over.

“Yeah. Just twisted my ankle a little when I tried to catch myself,” Steve gestured down at his ankle. “Might need to ice it before I clean more.”

“Maybe you should rest so it doesn’t swell.” Eddie rolled the sweatpants he was wearing up and saw the way it was already swelling. “Okay, you have no choice but to rest since it’s swelling.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can do that after we ice it,” Eddie said as he gently moved his ankle left and right to see if it was broken.

Steve snorted. “Of course this would happen the first day of my spring cleaning.”

“Maybe if you’d let me supervise earlier…”

“I never lose my balance on the ladder! I thought I’d be fine.”

“Steve, you remember how last year when you were cleaning the pool you insisted the water wouldn’t overfill because of the filters?” Eddie smirked. “And then 6 hours later we were trying to rescue your pool chairs from floating away?”

“That isn’t the same!”

“And then when we first moved in and you insisted you could paint the ceiling yourself and you insisted on handpainting instead of a roller because it wouldn't be even to you and then you dripped paint everywhere and we had to get new carpet? Remember how you ended up breaking your finger because you insisted on rolling the carpet yourself?"

"Okay, that was just bad luck."

"And when you put out the Christmas decorations last year while I was helping Wayne with his truck and I came home to you stuck on the roof?"

"Listen, I am almost 100% sure one of the neighbor kids knocked the ladder over. There was no other way!"

Eddie kissed Steve's forehead. "I'm not sure how you're even alive. You're asking for an accident to happen."

"Weren't you supposed to be getting me ice?" Steve pouted.

Eddie leaned in and nipped at his bottom lip. "You want help getting to the couch first?"

"Nope. It's cleaning week. 20 minutes with an ice pack and then I'm back to dusting."

Eddie shook his head. "You're ridiculous. We'll ice it for 20 and then you're gonna rest for at least an hour so we know if we need to wrap it and keep weight off of it."

"I'm fine, Eds."

"Humor me, sweetheart."

It's a damn good thing Steve did because an hour and a half later, they were on their way to the emergency room for x-rays.

As the doctor told them both that Steve seemed to have fractured a small bone in his ankle, Eddie did his best not to look too smug.

"It won't require a cast or boot, but I do recommend ice every couple of hours and staying off of it as much as possible for the next week or so. If anything starts to hurt worse, come back for a boot."

"Thanks, doc." Eddie waited until the doctor left the room to turn to Steve. "How about next time you want to dust above the fridge and the top of the cabinets, you let me be there to catch you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine."

Eddie kissed his lips softly, barely brushed them just in case someone decided to walk in again. "You want me to stop on the way home to get some more pain meds?"

"Please."

"You hurtin'?"

"A little."

"You want me to take your mind off it?" Eddie wiggled his brows suggestively. "I can keep your ankle elevated, even."

"We'll see when we get home. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Someone has to do the cleaning, baby. Since I can't, looks like you've got a checklist to get to."

"Or we could just put off the cleaning until your ankle heals."

Steve shook his head. "No, I think you can handle it. I'll supervise."

"You're lucky you're so pretty," Eddie groaned.

"Don't forget I'm also very good at sucking your-"

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Let's go before you get us discriminated against."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is watching them do stupid things #established relationship #cw: minor injury

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 4. Gooey

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI - Minors Do Not Interact!)

Chapter Preview: "Why did you do that?" you blurt out, turning to face him. Joel, seemingly unfazed, keeps his eyes on the road. "Do what?" "I don't need you defending my honor against Tess. She already dislikes me, and now it's all awkward-" "She doesn't hate you-" "...but clearly I have a target on my back now that I'm involved with my boss!" You keep your eyes downcast, attempting to stifle a sob. "You didn't need to cause a scene." Joel turns his head at that, his expression softening as he observes your distress, seemingly at a loss for words. "Sugar-" "It's easy for you, you know? To throw the fact that you're the boss around and have this 'I can do what I want' attitude with whoever you please. But I could still lose my job! I need this job, Joel. I-" "No, Sugar. Shit, I-" He opens his mouth, then closes it, appearing unsure of how to respond to your sudden outburst. Joel looks genuinely troubled, his frown mirroring yours. "I'm disposable, Joel," you continue, refusing to meet his gaze. "You wouldn't understand where I'm coming from."

Chapter Warnings & Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Daddy Kink, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Overstimulation, Squirting, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, DD/lg (kinda? they're both into it), Virgin Reader, Loss of Virginity, PIV Sex (finally!!!!), Breeding Kink, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 6.4K

Chapter Title Inspo/Vibe: 'Gooey' by Glass Animals

"What's up with you and Sugar?"

Sarah casually strolls over to Joel's desk, perching her hip on the edge as she hands him a cup of coffee. "Maria said she saw the two of you at the mall yesterday," peering over him as he nervously takes a sip of his coffee, "... during working hours. She said you guys seemed mighty close and all, I guess she wasn't sick like Tess said?"

Joel chokes mid-sip, coughing out the hot coffee as Sarah smirks at him.

"So it's true, then?"

"I guess I can't hide anything from you, baby girl," Joel replies in between coughs. "Should have known I can't get anything past you."

"Well, I made a wild guess you were into her, being that I heard you singing 'Pour Some Sugar On Me" in the shower the other day.

"It was being played on the radio, can't control what they decide to play, you know?" he stops, taking a deep breath. "... besides, everyone loves Def Leppard," he mumbles under his breath.

Sarah gives him a knowing glance as she makes herself comfortable on the chair in front of him. "Dad, the radio stations don't put music on repeat." She fiddles with the sleeves of her sweater absentmindedly, her face deep in thought. "It wouldn't be a bad thing, you know? You and Sugar. She seems like a very sweet girl. Kind of shy, but I like her."

Joel arches an eyebrow. "Do you now?"

She shrugs. "I mean, she is kind of young, but age is just a number, right? It's not like she's in her 20s. Besides, Ellie is obsessed with her. She's always at her office, picking her brain about her thoughts on 80s music. She's a good influence on her."

Joel nods. "Ellie- I worry about her sometimes. Lord knows that I try to do right by her, adopting her and all that. Sometimes I think she needs-"

"... a feminine touch?"

"Something like that." Joel smiles to himself, his eyes still locked on his iPad as he continues his redline revisions to be sent off to the draftsmen. "I think her being surrounded by Tommy and I makes her too-"

"Feral?" Sarah quips, chuckling. "Rough around the edges? Aggressive? It comes with the territory, I guess, with no mother figure around, you know?" she picks a hangnail. "Tommy said that she nearly castrated a client on the job site the other day for asking her out on a date."

"That jerk was asking for it." Joel retorts, his back stiffening. "You adjusted well enough without a mother."

Sarah sighs. "It doesn't mean it was easy, though. It would have been nice, you know? There's just things that I can't talk to a guy about, as much as you tried to be there for me."

"This thing with Sugar, It's new - but I know what I feel for her."

Sarah nods. "You don't need to give me all the details. I trust you, and if she's someone you want to pursue, I won't be mad about it, if that's what you're thinking. Like I said, she's a nice girl."

"She's... fuck, Sarah, she's amazing. She takes my breath away, every time she smiles at me. Fuck. I feel like a teenager, being around her. I don't know what it is, but I always want to be around her." Joel chuckles, smiling at Sarah. "I'm crazy about her."

"Well, you must be if you're out here buying Teslas like you would coffee."

Joel leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh? I wasn't aware that she bought a new car."

Sarah crosses her arms, a skeptical look in her eyes. "Dad, you do realize I handle HR, right? I know what everyone's making. I find it hard to believe she's casually splurging on a Tesla, especially a Model X." She shrugs, giving her father one last look as she heads towards the door. "I know it's tempting, wanting to spoil her. You worked for it, you know? To get where you're at now, but I have a feeling Sugar doesn't care about all of that, just like how Ellie and I don't care about that. Money comes and goes. It's what's inside that chest of yours that matters at the end of the day, ok?"

Joel smiles at Sarah once more as she walks out the door. "I love you too, baby girl."

Joel opens his messenger app, smiling at his earlier conversation with Sarah.

[Hey Sugar, you busy?] I'm about to head into a meeting with Tess, what's up? [Just wanted to see if you wanted to get some lunch?] I can't. Tess is pissed that I was out yesterday. I think this meeting is going to run past lunch. Rain check? [.....] Joel?

"Tess, what are you doing?" Joel demands, walking into Tess' office without knocking.

"Well hello to you, too Joel."

Joel stands at the door, his hands on his hips. "Sugar told me that she's going to be working through lunch with you-"

Tess scoffs, placing both arms on her desk. "Well, if the two of you didn't decide to fuck off work yesterday, maybe she wouldn't have to work past lunch."

"Sugar was sick. I had to do shit back at the house-"

"So you didn't go to the mall together yesterday?"

"It was her birthday, we just so happened to run into each other-"

Tess rolls her eyes at that. "I don't care what the fuck you guys do on your own time, but don't fuck around on my time!" she spits, pointing a finger at Joel. "Don't try to bullshit a bullshitter, Joel. Maria saw you guys. That girl of yours is lucky I didn't ask her for a doctor's note!  

Joel pinches his forehead. "Tess-"

She shakes her head. "What are you doing, Joel? Have you lost your fucking mind? We have a business to run, YOUR business! Time doesn't stop just because you decided that you want to act like a fucking teenager, running around like you have no responsibilities! People depend on you to not fuck around!"  

Meanwhile, you hear the shouting match between Joel and Tess from your office, your head in your hands as you listen to the both of them bicker about the stunt that you and Joel pulled yesterday. You sigh, knowing that you told Joel that you had a bad feeling about blowing off work.  

"Never a dull moment at Miller Construction, huh?" Frank leans casually against your doorway, offering a knowing wink. "Nice ride, by the way. Makes me wonder if I picked the wrong man, huh?"

"Frank, cut it out. You were supposed to be at the showroom ten minutes ago," the gruff voice of the head civil engineer interjects, rolling his eyes as he strides through the hallway, delivering you a brief nod. "Sugar, Happy Belated Birthday. Hope you're feeling better."

"Thanks, Bill," you reply with a hint of meekness.

"Frank! Let's go," he shouts impatiently, already at the front door.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stick around for the theatrics of our esteemed leaders... keep me posted, okay? I want a play-by-play! Nice dress, by the way. Celine?"

"Uh-"

"Frank!"

"I'm COMING! Geez, you'd think after 15 years of marriage, it gets easier, right?" he shrugs. "Well, Sugar, it's been a pleasure." He winces as Tess' shrill voice echoes in the distance. "Go console Joel before he pops a vessel; I think someone might just call the police this time!"

You nod absentmindedly, offering him a small smile. "Sure thing," you reply, the weariness evident in your voice.

It was a lot easier when you worked at Geek Squad. Sure, you got paid almost close to nothing dealing with irate customers for eight hours, answering mundane questions - 

Did you try to restart the computer?

Did you make sure that the monitor was plugged in?

Sure, I can wait for your granddaughter to come home to help you…

It was soul-sucking, but it was easy. Easier, compared to dealing with someone like Tess. Tess took no shit - no excuses, no bullshit. She didn’t care if you had a dentist appointment and couldn’t schedule it on the weekend. She didn’t care if you needed a mental health day. Your time was her time, and you found that out the hard way real quick… and now she knew. Knew that you blew off work and knowing Tess, she probably knew that Joel finger fucked you into oblivion in the Neiman Marcus dressing room. You can't help but have respect for her, a woman walking amongst the men in an unforgiving industry. If there was anyone who had balls of steel, it would be Tess. 

"Joel, why can't you just wait to fuck her after work like a responsible adult?!" She shouts, the tell-tell sound of something being thrown against the wall echoing through the hall. You flinch, sinking into your seat further as you groan in embarrassment.  

"Hey!" you hear the other Miller brother yell from the other end of the hallway, his hurried steps passing through as he makes his way toward the absolute meltdown happening between Joel and Tess. "What the hell is going on? The entire fucking building can hear the both of you! What the fuck?!"

"Tess is being a bully, telling people they have to work through their lunch-"

"Your brother here is throwing a fucking hissy fit accusing me of bullying his little girlfriend - I told you hiring her was a bad fucking idea!"

"YOU LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!" Joel shouts, the sound of his fist hitting the hollow of the door. "You keep her out of your fucking mouth, Tess!"

"Joel," you hear Tommy, his voice lowered in a shoddy attempt to placate his brother. "Let's just calm the fuck down, okay? you guys are scaring the engineers-"

"OH FUCK THE ENGINEERS, TOMMY," Tess screams, "You tell your brother to stop playing favorites and fucking around with THE HELP!"

"Tess," Tommy stammers, "I know you're upset, but you're being out of line right now, let's just take a moment to calm-"

"Oh fuck off, Tommy! you're here always defending your brother when he's just fine screwing around, fucking us over! why don't you grow a pair-"

"Tess," Joels cuts her off, his voice laced with his building anger. "I know you think that you run the show, but it is still my company, that I run. You don't go and bully everyone just because you think you can. You may call the shots, but you still report to me. Denying an employee lunch is an HR violation! Should I call Sarah in here too? Slap the fucking employee handbook on your desk and clear the air? Your meeting with Sugar can wait until after lunch, do I make myself clear??"

You don't realize you're holding your breath until-

"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

You hear Tess curse, and you can imagine her face, clear as day, glaring at Joel, the both of them not wanting to back down.  

"Crystal."

You hear the slamming of a door, followed by the heavy-footed steps of Joel as he makes his way back to his office.

You sit in a daze, looking off into space, trying to process what just happened. You're only broken off from your thoughts by the unmistakable sound of your messenger, its distinctive ping! jolting you back to the present.

[So, lunch?]

"So, what cravings does my Sugar have today?" Joel murmurs, gently taking your hand as he navigates out of the parking lot.

"Why did you do that?" you blurt out, turning to face him.

Joel, seemingly unfazed, keeps his eyes on the road. "Do what?"

"I don't need you defending my honor against Tess. She already dislikes me, and now it's all awkward-"

"She doesn't hate you-"

"...but clearly I have a target on my back now that I'm involved with my boss!" You keep your eyes downcast, attempting to stifle a sob. "You didn't need to cause a scene."

Joel turns his head at that, his expression softening as he observes your distress, seemingly at a loss for words. "Sugar-"

"It's easy for you, you know? To throw the fact that you're the boss around and have this 'I can do what I want' attitude with whoever you please. But I could still lose my job! I need this job, Joel. I-"

"No, Sugar. Shit, I-" He opens his mouth, then closes it, appearing unsure of how to respond to your sudden outburst. Joel looks genuinely troubled, his frown mirroring yours.

"I'm disposable, Joel," you continue, refusing to meet his gaze. "You wouldn't understand where I'm coming from."

"I wouldn't let her do that, baby."

"Just because you like me doesn't mean I'm immune, Joel."

“You do excellent work, Sugar. If there’s anyone to blame for what happened yesterday, it’s me, alright? Tess’ issue is with me, not you." He heads into town, pulling over to a metered parking spot in front of a few storefronts. He cuts the ignition, staring into the distance as he takes a few deep breaths. "You're wrong, baby," he says finally, turning towards you. He gives you a small smile, "I don't like you."

You feel your expression shift into something resembling pain as Joel hurriedly reaches for your hand, gently taking it into his.

"I love you, Sugar," he breathes, "I've been in love with you, all this time."

"Joel, you don't need to say this just to make me feel better."

Joel shakes his head, unbuckling his seatbelt to lean towards you, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. "Are you saying I'm a liar?"

A tear rolls down your cheek. "No one has ever-"

"Then let me try to show you just how much I do, baby."

"What if I'm bad at it? Bad at loving you?"

Joel looks deep into your eyes, his gaze tender and unwavering. "There's no such thing as being bad at loving, Sugar. Love is about understanding, patience, and growing together. We'll figure it out, one step at a time."

He wipes away the tear from your cheek with his thumb and offers you a reassuring smile. "I'm not expecting perfection, just you, baby girl. That's all I've ever wanted."

"What if I'm not ready to say it back just yet?"

"I'll take whatever you're willing to give me", he smiles. "Just let me love you, okay?"

Later that day, you finally muster up the courage to make the short journey down the hall for your meeting with Tess. You would be lying if you said you weren't five seconds away from shitting your pants, that's just the effect Tess has on everyone in the office.   

"Tess?" you knock on her door, clearing your throat and hoping she doesn't catch the slight tremor in your voice. You attempt to compose yourself, standing a bit taller as you wait for her reply with bated breath.

"Come in!"

You hesitantly shuffle in, feeling like a moron standing before her in your new dress, feeling like she can see right through you. "Look, about earlier-"

Tess glances at you as if you've suddenly sprouted another head. "Why don't you just have a seat, and we can get this over with."

You stand in your spot timidly, shifting on your feet. "Okay," you say, settling into the seat across from her and placing your MacBook on her desk. "Where did you want to start?"

"Let's go over the employee reports."

"Okay, well," you begin, nervously pushing your hair behind your ear as you load up your reports, keeping your eyes locked onto your screen as you feel the weight of Tess' gaze on you. It's unnerving, you think to yourself. "There haven't been any new issues; everyone seems to be on task, and productivity has been steady, if not increasing-"

"Do you want a drink?" Tess interrupts suddenly, the sound of a drawer opening as she pulls out a bottle of whiskey. "It was your birthday yesterday, right? Why don't we take the edge off?"

"Uh," you glance at the time on your computer screen. 4:05. 55 minutes before the end of the day. You eye her warily. "We still have an hour before... we still have an hour before the end of the day," you cautiously mention, a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

Tess pours two glasses of whiskey, sliding one towards you. "A little celebration won't hurt. Besides, it's been a day."

You hesitate for a moment before accepting the glass, the cool surface feeling unfamiliar in your hand. "To what, exactly?"

Tess smirks, raising her glass. "To getting through the day, and to not making a big deal out of things that don't matter. To burying the hatchet. To your birthday," she adds. She leans towards you, her gaze heavy on yours. "Shall we?"

"Sure," you say, not one to shy away from a challenge. "What the hell."

It's not an hour later you find the both of you drunk off your asses.

"You know, I can see it," Tess says, eyeing you as she leans back in her desk chair. "Why Joel is so taken with you? You're quite a woman."

"Oh?"

"It takes one strong woman to be able to see the kind of illicit porn the Miller brothers watch and not bat an eye at it. Tell me, what has our leader been into lately?"

You try to stifle a giggle, attempting to hide a blush. "Well, he usually watches a lot of secretary stuff, but lately-"

"Let me take a wild guess," Tess says as she takes a swig out of the bottle, shot glasses long abandoned. "Sweet little housewife porn?"

"Not quite."

Her eyebrow raises curiously. "Worse than that?"

"Well, there's been an uptick of... breeding porn?" you blush furiously. "it's a lot."

Tess bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching her middle, all sense of professionalism out the window. "I think he's trying to tell you something!"

"What do you mean?" you ask, meeting her giggles. "What is breeding porn anyway?"

Tess stares at you. "Really Sugar? It means he wants to fuck a baby into you!"

You scratch the back of your head, clearly at a loss. "I-"

"The sex must be great," she quips. "I don't think that man has been intimate with anyone for the last ten years." She leans over toward you. "He has to make up for lost time," she whispers, giving you a wink.

"Yeah", you stammer, "It's great."

"Well, when you say it like that, maybe the old man lost his touch."

"Tess, can I level with you? I... I'm a virgin. I'm a 36-year-old virgin. Does that change how you see me?"

"Well, it depends. Is it by choice?"

You shrug, a hiccup escaping from your body. "I'm not entirely sure. Maybe it's a mix of both. Like I'm defective."

"Lay it on me," she looks around your surroundings, making sure that the door is closed. "This is a safe space... most of the time." She gives you a pointed look.  

"I guess... I don't know how to put myself out there. My parents, well, my dad- he was strict. One of those "You're not allowed to date until you're 80" kind of dads." You take another sip of whiskey, scrunching your face as it burns down your throat. "I... tried to date in college, but it never went past a first date. There was a lot of ghosting. It gave me a complex, you know? Who wants to date a nobody who looks like me? and it's so fucking pathetic, you know? to be the unwanted one. All of my friends, well, they're married and have kids, and I'm just that token single friend they take pity on because I will always be unlucky in love."

"I think that's a load of bull," Tess scoffs, arms crossed.

"Do you know what I think? You dealt with too many boys and not enough men." She drinks from the bottle once more, reclining further into her seat as she places her ankles on the edge of the desk. "Do you wanna know what I see in front of me? I see a girl who worked her ass off getting her masters, who doesn't depend on mommy and daddy to fund her lifestyle - yes," she raises a finger, interrupting you from replying. "I know who your parents are. You're hyper-independent, and you don't like handouts. Boys don't want a woman who doesn't need them, they don't want a fucking challenge. Do you know who does love a challenge? Men. Men like Joel."

Tess leans in, a sly grin playing on her lips. "Joel, now there's a man who appreciates someone like you. Someone who doesn't need saving, who's got her own game going. Boys might be intimidated, but men, well, they see a partner, not a project."

She takes another swig, the bottle now almost empty. "You don't want to waste your time on those boys playing grown-up. Trust me, been there, done that. Men bring something different to the table. They value independence, they crave a challenge. It's a whole different ball game. Think about it, Sugar. Besides," she laughs to herself, shaking her head. "I've never seen Joel so whipped for pussy in the 20 years that I've known him. You got him eating in the palm of your hand... and the best thing about it? you didn't even have to try. What woman can say that she managed to bag a millionaire without having to put out? Now that's power."

"What's this?" Joel asks suddenly, his eyes narrowing at the two of you as he hovers over the doorway. If he knocked, the two of you were too drunk to notice. "Tess? Care to share why Sugar can barely sit straight?"

Tess throws her hands up in surrender, a faint chuckle out of her lips. "What does it look like? We're just having a little birthday drink. I'd offer you a drink," she picks up the empty whiskey bottle, "but it looks like we beat you to it."

"Joel!" you beam at him, spinning around in your seat, your face flushed from your conversation with Tess. "Just the man we were talking about!"

"Sugar, are you feeling ok?" he gives you a small smile, trying to hide his concern.

"I'm just peachy, thanks for asking!" you sway in your seat, grabbing onto the armrest to steady yourself. "Tess and I were just discussing how you haven't had-"

"Just going over productivity metrics" Tess cuts you off, clearing her throat as she tries to steady herself, wincing. "I offered her a drink to apologize for my behavior earlier. We got a little carried away-" She straightens herself, motioning towards you. "I think you should give her a ride home, make sure she doesn't end up in the next state over because she drunkenly typed in the wrong address in the Tesla."

"Home sounds good," you murmur under your breath, your eyes closed.

Joel lets out an exasperated sigh, moving towards your slouched figure. "Okay Sugar," he whispers, his hands gently placed on your shoulders to steady you. "Do you think you can walk?"

"Maybe?" you hiccup, your body feeling like lead is coursing through your veins as you attempt to meet his concerned eyes. "Are you going to take me home? I don't think I can drive, everything is so fuzzy..."

If you weren't drunk off of your ass, you might have sensed the sudden lift from your seat, Joel carrying you effortlessly with a stern look aimed at Tess. "I appreciate the effort to make amends, Tess, but maybe find a different approach other than getting the employees drunk." He adjusts you so your head rests on his shoulder, preventing any potential dizziness.

She shrugs, a smirk forming at Joel as he quietly tries to settle you. "What can I say? Whiskey cures all."

"Goodnight, Tess," Joel grumbles, adjusting his hold as he carries you towards the parking lot.

Joel carefully situates you in the passenger seat of his truck, securing your seatbelt and making sure your head rests comfortably, sighing as he takes in your inebriated state. He places a chaste kiss on your forehead, offering you a reassuring smile. "I'm going to get your stuff back in the office, just close your eyes, okay?" he whispers, giving you one last glance before closing the door.

"I don't want to head home tonight. Can I crash at your place, Joel?" you murmur, eyelids too heavy to keep open. You swear you hear Joel reply something in return, but the alcohol in your system is finally starting to settle deep within your bones, lulling you into a deep sleep.

You don't remember much after that.

When you finally stir, it's dark. Instead of the familiar hum of Joel's truck, warmth envelops you, an arm securely around your middle. Joel snores softly.

"Joel?" you call out in the dark, your eyes trying to adjust to the lack of light. "Where am I?"

"Hush, baby, go back to sleep. It's still early," he mumbles, tightening the arm around you. You feel him gently press a kiss on your head. "Sleep, my little love, we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," you reply, the smoothness of his voice lulling you back to sleep.  

"I love you, Joel." you think you say in your sleep. You don't care at this point, there's no sense of hiding it.

You swear you feel the ghost of his smile in response.

The next time you wake, the sunlight is pouring into the depths of Joel's bedroom, casting a hazy light, the air in the room still cold against your bare skin. Your eyes open wider at the realization that you're no longer in your work clothes. You blush at the thought of Joel undressing you, his hungry gaze on your bare body as he redresses you in something comfortable, embarrassed at the fact that you were too drunk to remember. You reluctantly open your eyes, blinking away the haze from a night of heavy drinking, trying to stifle a groan, not wanting to wake Joel.

You managed to lay halfway on top of him this time, your face buried in the crook of his neck. One of his hands is splayed against the expanse of your back, his leg slotted in between your thighs. You swear if you hitched your leg higher you would feel the firmness of his cock, already at half mast beneath the fabric of his boxers. You gaze at it in silent wonder, the realization that he's quite large - larger than the ones you see when you allow yourself to watch porn yourself.  

You find yourself grinding against his thigh, the sensation feeling like molten lava coursing through your veins. You don’t realize what you’re doing until the hand on your back starts to move, motioning your body to move back and forth as you continue to rub your clit against the hardness of his leg. "Fuck baby, are you close? You're shaking." he says roughly, pulling you into a kiss.  

"Joel, I saw what kind of porn you've been watching lately."

Joel stiffens at that, his hand still. "I'm beginning to think I can't hide shit from anyone," he laughs. "I guess I'm that transparent."

"Are you embarrassed?" you chuckle. "You can tell me, you know. Tess told me it's obvious that you want to fuck a baby-"

Joel groans. "Let's not talk about Tess right now. Besides- I know that you're a virgin, Sugar. I want your first time to be special, do it the right way. Let me help you ease into it-"

"Wasn't that what yesterday was about?" you blush, burying your face into his neck. "What if I'm ready now?"

"... are you sure, Sugar?" he asks hesitantly, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "Don't want to pressure you into something you're not ready for."

"I don't want anyone else but you, Joel."

"You don't know how much I ache for you," he murmurs against your skin, placing wet open-mouthed kisses on your sternum, his hands slowly creeping up your shirt, his fingers grabbing onto the hem. "Can I, baby?" he asks, meeting your gaze as he kisses your skin. You give him a silent nod, lifting yourself slightly as he gently pulls his shirt off of your body, his eyes roaming on the slopes of your breasts. "Such perfect fucking tits, baby. Are they just for me?" he asks, the tip of his tongue flicking your nipple, his hand grasping the other.  

"Yes Joel, just for you," you breathe. His hands drift lower towards your aching cunt. "Put a baby into me, Joel. I want it."

"Fuck," he shouts, his hands grabbing your ass, shifting your body to be at the center of his king-sized bed. "You shouldn't say those things to me, I might just do it," he replies, settling himself in between your thighs. He cants his erection against your cunt, capturing your lips for a bruising kiss. "Can you feel just how much I ache for you?" His hand finds your core once more, his thumb pressing on your clit.  

Oh.

Your hands find his, pushing it onto your clit harder, the added pressure making you arch your back, your chest pressing onto his. His mouth finds your breasts once more, his tongue eagerly lapping and sucking at your pebbled nipples. "Such beautiful tits, Sugar. It'll get more beautiful when they get bigger and full of milk for my baby."  

He continues to worship your tits for a while, the pleasure that he's pulling from you making you dizzy with want, your pussy clenching onto nothing as he continues to grind against you. "Fuck Joel!" you cry out, your body chasing your orgasm, your chest too sensitive from his ministrations.  

"Tell me what you want, baby. What do you need?"

"I need your cock, daddy. I feel so fucking empty-"

Joel gives your breasts one final suck, the pop echoing throughout the vastness of his room. "I have to make you come first, baby. You're not ready for my cock yet." He slides a finger between your folds, his thumb adding more pressure onto your clit. Joel shifts his body down, pressing kisses down your torso as he makes his way to the waistband of your panties, his fingers hooking into the elastic, pulling them down. He hooks his arms under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of his bed, spreading you wider as you present yourself to him.

"Baby," he groans like he's in pain. He parts your slicked folds with his finger, coating it with your wetness. You jump as he flicks your clit, pinching it for good measure. "I'm beginning to think you're aching for me too, Sugar." You moan deeply, your body thrashing between the sheets, your body begging for more.  

"Don't fucking tease me, Joel," you pant. "I need you-"

He slaps your pussy harshly. "You'll take what I give you, little girl. Do I need to teach you how to be patient? We skipped dinner last night, you gonna deny Daddy of his meal?"

"No, Daddy. Please-"

"Are you gonna be a good little girl and let Daddy take care of you? Let me taste your sweet pussy?" he adds a second finger against your folds, teasing your entrance as you gasp and throw your head back.

"Yes," you plead. "Yes, yes, yes, take what you want-"

You can hardly breathe as Joel tugs your legs over his shoulders, angling your hips. You swear you feel your heart beating through your ears, your entire body feeling like it's on fire. Joel gives you one last smirk as he lowers his face to your cunt.  

You swear you implode the moment his mouth comes in contact with your clit.  

His tongue is lapping at your slick, the tip flicking your aching nub, languidly kissing your slit, taking his time. He's devouring you like he's been starved for years, getting hungrier and more desperate as you swear you can feel the bed shake, his dick grinding down on the mattress. He harshly grabs the globes of your ass cheeks, slipping his tongue at your entrance, your entire body flailing on the bed from overstimulation.  

He reaches for your hand and places it on his head, your fingers threading through his curls. "Hold on to me, Sugar. Don't be gentle," he says against your pussy, groaning as you pull so hard you swear you might just pull it out of his scalp. You begin to rock your hips against his face, the tip of his nose grazing against your clit, the both of you finding a rhythm as you chase your impending orgasm. You're close. So close.

"Come for me, baby. Fucking soak my face-" Joel begs, taking your clit in his teeth. Tears begin to form at the corner of your eyes, your body trembling and shaking and thrashing as he continues to consume you.  

"Joel!" you cry, "It's too much, I can't-" You swear your vision blacks out as you suddenly feel a gush of slick being released out of you, soaking Joel's face and the sheets beneath you. You try to meet his gaze, his pupils blown black, his eyes wide.  

"That's a good fucking girl!" he shouts, lapping you up completely, drinking from your pussy. He suddenly rises to his feet, his hands still gripping your thighs, lifting your ass higher as he lines his cock to your entrance.  

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks, probing the tip at your entrance. "Once I start I won't be able to stop. Is this something you want? I need to hear you say it."

"I want it, Joel. I want you."

"Do you want me to wear a condom?"

You look at him, shaking your head. "I thought you said you wanted to fuck a baby into me. I'm not on anything and you would be my first-"

Joel wraps your thighs around his waist, leaning towards you as he kisses you, long and deep. "I love you, Sugar... and I know you love me," He inches his tip into your entrance slowly, giving you shallow thrusts. "I'll give you everything-" he groans as he slowly fills you to the hilt, stopping his thrusts as he allows you to adjust to his length.  

It's a lot. Too long and too thick and you're gripping onto him, gripping onto him like a vice. You gasp at the intrusion, the pinch so sharp you close your eyes in pain, clutching at Joel, digging your nails harshly against his skin.  

"I need you to relax, Sugar," Joel says, his voice strained. "What do you need? I don't want to hurt you."

You shake your head. "Just... talk to me. Distract me." You take a deep breath. "When did you know? Know that you loved me?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, a small smile on his face as he starts to slowly push in and out of you. "Do you remember the day that you first yelled at me? The day when I was working when it was storming out-"

"The day we had a tornado watch?" you pant, taking another deep breath as he continues to thrust into you, slow and deep. "You were an absolute moron, risking your life for some bullshit deadline my dad held over your head-" you gasp, your hips canting towards as you meet him thrust for thrust. "No amount of money is worth risking your life-"

"I couldn't bear seeing you cry, begging me to come down the roof," he groans, grabbing onto your hip as he thrusts deeper into you. "No one besides my family has shown me such care for my well-being, not even Sarah's mom, forcing me to work hell or high water... fuck.  You feel so fucking good baby, I don't think I can last-" he starts to thrust into you in earnest, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing throughout the room.

It's obscene.

"You practically jumped onto me the moment I came down, gripping onto me like a life raft, fuck... feeling you in my arms, the tears running down your face-" he's pounding into you now, both of his hands gripping onto your hips harshly as he fucks you into the mattress. "I was fucking gone for you, baby," he pants. "I knew I loved you then. Knew I had to make you mine, no matter what it took... Fuck." Joel closes his eyes, throwing his head back as he fucks into you deeper, so deep you can't think straight, your second orgasm building. His chest is heaving as he opens his eyes once more, his face full of love and adoration.  

You never thought you would feel what belonging felt like, what home would feel like.

Seeing him look at you in wonder, like you hung the stars in the sky at night yourself...

You don't realize you're both crying, the tears from Joel's eyes running down his face as he sets a brutal pace, angling your hips higher as he plows into you.  

"I want to give you a family, baby. I want you to stay, forever."

"Then don't let me go, Joel. Don't leave me-" you gasp, your face wrought with tears. "I love you, Joel. So much."

"I won't," he breathes, leaning over you as he kisses you furiously, his hips snapping into you. "You're so close, baby, I can feel you gripping me so tight, I'm going to fill you up so good, give you a fucking baby, keep you in this house I built for you, never letting you leave..." he babbles incoherently. "Come with me, baby. Come with me, please-"

Your body tenses up like a coil, the string keeping your sanity together snapping as you shriek, Joel roaring as you both come, his spend pulsing into deep into you, thick and hot and molten.  

Joel slumps onto you, completely spent. He keeps his cock in you until he softens and slips out, his finger quickly gathering the spend seeping out of you and pushing it in, keeping it safe. He laughs as he falls onto the mattress next to you, pressing small chaste kisses on your face, taking you into his arms.  

"Did you mean it?" he asks softly, his fingers cradling your face. "Did you mean it when you said you loved me?"

You take his hand in yours, threading your fingers through his, offering him a small smile.

"I love you, Joel. So much."

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

#The Girl in IT #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #the last of us fanfic #tlou fic #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #Miller family hijinks

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

photographs

part two

masterlist

summary: when dean goes to hell, you realize you have almost no pictures of him. when he comes back, you take pictures every chance you get.

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of dean’s time in hell, implied sex/nudity, reader is picked up and carried by dean

author’s note: my longest one yet! :) also, there’s more use of “y/n” then i care to admit.

“dean?” you crawled toward his lifeless body, shaking with sobs as you got closer. “dean, baby, please!”

you sat up next to him and held his hand to your face, ignoring the blood that was now spread across your cheek. you let go of his hand to hold his face and kiss his forehead.

“dean,” you whispered, tears still streaming uncontrollably.

you woke up in a cold sweat. four months it had been since the worst night of your life. you sat up and looked at the picture on your nightstand. it was of you and dean; bobby had taken it about a month before dean had died. bobby had given you the picture along with seven others of dean (all taken when you knew him) when you moved in with him a couple days after dean’s death.

eight or so (fairly low quality) photos, that’s all you had of dean, besides a couple short voicemails and his outgoing message from his several cell phones. you never thought of taking pictures together, it’s like how no one has pictures of their closest friends. but now that he was gone, all you thought about was the moments you had no pictures to remember by. that time he surprised you with your favorite flowers after working separate cases and going a week without seeing each other. or when he made you breakfast in bed when your period cramps were worse than usual. or the little things; the way he smiled after kissing you, how his eyes lit up when you’d bring him a slice of pie, how he’d hum along to metallica while driving to a case with you in the passenger seat. or how he’d look waking up next to you each morning, so peaceful as he stirred and mumbled “good morning” to you with a smile; pulling you to him and kissing whichever part of you was closest, whether that was your cheek or hand he’d kiss you quickly and with such love there were times you’d forget about the monster you were hunting.

you got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of dean’s old def leppard shirts. it no longer smelled like him but it still reminded you of him, and it made you feel closer to him. as you brushed your teeth your phone buzzed and you picked it up, spitting out the toothpaste before answering.

“hello?”

“y/n?”

“who is this?” you asked. you recognized the voice, you’d recognize it anywhere, but you knew there was no way it was him.

“it’s me, sweetheart, it’s dean,” you could hear the strain in his voice. you wanted it to be him so badly, you missed him so much it was driving you insane.

“this is fucking cruel, you know,” you inhaled sharply, holding back tears. “who is this really? some low-level demon? shapeshifter?”

“no, y/n it’s me i- i’m back.”

“you know what, i-” you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew it wasn’t him, but it still sounded like him. “i know this isn’t really dean, and if you call sam or bobby they will kill you, but i- i miss dean too much to care at this point.”

“y/n it’s really me-”

“stop, just- stop. i know you’re a shifter or something, but you sound exactly like him and i miss his voice so fucking much, so please just talk as if we’re having a normal conversation.”

“oh- okay,” he sighed. “how’ve you been, y/n? you taking care of yourself?”

you let out a wry laugh. “when i’m not knee deep in booze, i’m summoning demons.”

“y/n! no, sweetheart, that’s- that’s not what i wanted for you! you were supposed to move on, go back to nursing school.”

“how did you know-” you started then chose to ignore it, wanting to hear dean’s voice. “i was never going back to school, dean, you had to have known that! and ‘moving on’ isn’t really my thing, i'm more into revenge.”

“yeah, you’ve always been stubborn i guess,” he let out a laugh, causing you to smile at the sound.

“well you-”

“y/n, you up?” bobby knocked on the door lightly.

“gimme a minute, don’t hang up, please,” you whispered into the phone then answered bobby; “yeah come on in!” you sat on your bed, slightly smiling at him.

“hey, how’re you doing?” he asked, you shrugged.

“fine, i guess, everything okay?”

“i just got a weird call, about five or so minutes ago, from some asshole pretending to be dean, so i just wanted to give you a heads up, they’re probably gonna call you too.”

“oh- okay- um- thanks bobby,” you nodded slightly. he furrowed his brows.

“that's it? i thought you’d be pissed some monster is using dean’s voice to prey on the-” his expression softened as he realized. “emotionally vulnerable.” he let out a sigh, “it called you already, huh?” you nodded.

“he’s still on the phone, but bobby- it sounds just like dean,” tears welled in your eyes and threatened to fall. “i miss dean so much, it- it physically hurts sometimes bobby. i can’t sleep, i can’t eat, i- i just really fuckin’ miss him.”

“i know, kid, i know.” he sat beside you, you let him take the phone from your hand and he ended the call. “dean was the love of your life, nothing hurts more than losing that.”

“does this feeling ever go away? this like nauseated, broken, deeply sick feeling?”

“not completely, at least it hasn’t for me yet. sometimes i still miss my wife like she died yesterday, but other days it’s not so bad. and those are the days we need to hang on to, because we need to remember that the people we loved, the ones we lost, they loved us too. dean would want you to be happy.”

**

you had just finished your shower when you heard someone pounding on the door. you quickly got dressed in some clean clothes and hurried toward the stairs, grabbing your gun on the way. you tried to see what had gotten into the house, and when you saw him, everything in you froze completely. it couldn’t be him, not really. should you shoot it? you made eye contact with bobby, who slightly shook his head, as if he knew what you were thinking.

“dean?” bobby asked, starting to believe what the man was saying.

“that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you!” dean let out a breath of relief. bobby pulled him in for a hug while you stared in awe. you couldn’t really hear anything they were saying to each other, well you could but you weren’t listening. it’s as if you were suddenly on autopilot. you tucked your gun away and slowly walked down the stairs, surprisingly not making any sound.

“where’s y/n? has she been staying with sam? she’s not alone, right?” dean asked, bobby nodded slightly in your direction. you were now at the bottom of the stairs and two or so feet away from dean. he turned around. your heart leapt out of your chest and you let out a cry, covering your mouth.

“d-dean?” you exclaimed, placing a hand on his cheek. he closed his eyes and leaned into the simple touch. you gasped quietly, still not believing any of it, and half expecting to wake up at any moment.

“y/n,” he whispered, opening his eyes and looking into yours. ��it’s- it’s really me, i swear.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your torso. he picked you up slightly so you wouldn’t have to be on your absolute tiptoes and he didn’t have to be hunched over. you giggled at the familiar feeling of being in his arms.

“dean,” you all but squealed as your grip on him tightened. you pulled back and kissed him, unable to stop the smile that was across your face. he kissed you back, also smiling widely. “holy shit, dean!” you pulled away and looked into his eyes. “dean, you- you’re-” you buried your face back in his shoulder and began sobbing, your whole body shaking. he let you stand up and he took a look at your now tear stained face.

“don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispered, but that only made the tears fall quicker. you laughed a little and he smiled.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled, snuggling into his chest and letting the tears soak his dirty t-shirt. he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you as close as physically possible.

“it’s okay,” he mumbled back, resting his head on yours. “i love you.”

“i love you so much.”

the moment was somewhat ruined by bobby splashing dean’s face with holy water.

“i’m not a demon, bobby,” dean sighed.

“had to be sure,” the older man shrugged and offered dean a kitchen towel to dry his face off.

**

“a camera?” dean laughed a little. he’d been back for about a week and you hadn’t left his side. the two of you were at target buying a few essentials.

“yeah, i recently realized i don’t have a lot of pictures of you, so,” you replied, quieting near the end of the sentence. his teasing smirk turned into a soft, understanding smile.

“well, better get a couple extra memory cards too, who knows how long we’ll have to go between uploading the pictures onto a computer.”

“okay,” you giggled, standing on your tippy toes and giving him a peck on his lower cheek. “love you!”

you hurried and grabbed a couple memory cards. a camcorder caught your eye and you smiled to yourself. you’d want videos of dean too, if something was to happen to him again. you also picked up a large, simple photo album on your way to meet dean at the checkout

**

“mkay, zoom in,” you tested out the camcorder in the mirror, not actually recording anything. “zoom out.”

“what’re you doing?” dean laughed, you turned the camcorder to him and pressed record. he was leaning on the door frame and raised his eyebrows with amusement.

“say your name for the camera,” you giggle.

“c’mon, seriously?”

“humor me?” you pouted, he rolled his eyes. “i’ll make it worth your while,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

“my name is dean winchester, and this,” he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you back to the mirror. “is my beautiful girlfriend, y/n!” he wrapped his arms around your belly and buried his face in the crook of your neck. “i love you, y/n,” he kissed your neck repeatedly, causing you to giggle.

“i love you, dean,” you said between giggles.

**

“i’m literally brushing my teeth, this isn’t a particularly great memory,” dean laughed before spitting out the toothpaste. you had the camera in your hands and took a couple pictures of him; a cheeky smile now on his face as he got closer and engulfed you in a hug.

“but you look so cute doing everyday things,” you smiled up at him.

**

it took dean a couple days, but once he started taking pictures too, he never put the camera down (unless it was a life or death situation, obviously). it became a normal thing to have the camera out, even sam and bobby got into the mood - they let their pictures be taken and they even took pictures themselves. sam loved the camcorder and usually used that, while bobby preferred to use the camera.

dean showed up with a polaroid camera one night, which confused you.

“we already have the other two, you really think we need a polaroid?” you laughed lightly, still happy he was so enthusiastic about taking pictures.

“well, everyone uses the other two - i don’t want sam seeing your boobs,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“my boobs?” you practically spat out your coffee.

“yeah! what? if something happens to you, i don’t want to forget the girls!” he somehow managed to keep a straight face, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “what!”

“you’re adorable, that’s all,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a loving kiss. “so you spent approximately seventy-five-dollars on a polaroid just to take pictures of my boobs?” you mumbled against his lips. he hummed in approval; it seemed to make complete sense to him so you agreed, “mkay, seems reasonable.”

“of course it’s reasonable,” he smiled, kissing you. “wanna test it out?”

“oh definitely,” you smiled too, jumping up so he could carry you over the the motel bed.

**

“photo album one, complete!” you giggled, happy with your work as you handed it over to dean. “i put the date on the back of each one, and there’s room if we want to write about the picture, too. i already did that for some of them.”

“this is beautiful, sweetheart,” he smiled and flipped through the pages.

“i figured we could keep it in our room at bobby’s,” you suggested.

“okay,” he wasn’t really listening, he was fully focused on the collection of pictures from the past month or so. you all looked so happy, as if these pictures weren’t taken between slaying demons and monsters, or setting fires to corpses. (and now talking with angels, which still sounded crazy).

“you’ll like this one more,” you tossed him a miniature photo album that was meant to hold polaroids, it was filled with every picture taken with the newest camera. he looked through it quickly, smirking to himself almost every picture, then went back to looking at the main album. “i couldn’t find the one we took the first night, though, we didn’t leave it at the motel, did we?”

he didn’t say anything, just handed you his wallet; mesmerized by the photos of you, him, bobby, and sam. you smiled to yourself when you opened his wallet. god i love this man.

part two :)

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #spn fanfic #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x you #by ​mind empty just fictional people #by jean

[icu-now]

18+ switch!eddie? but mostly sub!eddie x dom!reader, gn!reader

so ... eddie wears boxers, agreed? like he's such a boy ass boy wearing boxer shorts. he has ones with green and blue plaid; or red and navy gingham; and his fanciest pair he owns is plain denim blue (but all bought in value packs). and what you love about them more than getting to take them off heehe is how they peek out of his waistband when he reaches for something above the fridge. the shirt that already sits pretty at the edge of his belt loops with his arms down; lifts just that little bit, and the ruched cotton has you licking your lips at the tuft of hair it flattens. eddie chuckles before you can catch yourself and spill half a spoonful of cheerios and milk on the table.

okkkkk starting to scream now bc getting to take them off ... . . . you two have been making out on wayne's lazy boy for about half of a random def leppard album eddie got a boot leg of. cranked high in his room to hear it comfortably in the living room, you love it how the groans between each of his heavy breaths are amplified as you kiss down his neck. you make sure you've locked his eyes before sliding between his legs, steadying yourself on his quads. you've been palming at the denim around his thighs, hips, and crotch for about two and a half songs now and obviously for eddie that's been ages. he's whining into his shoulder and his knuckles are white clenching at the sides of his thighs wishing you'd touch him. and it's quite embarrassing how loud he gasps when you pop the button of his jeans with just your thumb and forefinger. you trail your fingers between elastic and skin until they meet at his tailbone. and u can feel how giddy he is when he does that little hip lift thing, only for you tug at his beltloops, loosening his jeans anchored by his body weight and leaving his boxers mostly on.

rightfully, you earn a, "babe--heh baby..." from eddie. kneeling between his lap, your hands meet at the crease of his hips, finally touching his hard bulge and you're smirking. you feel his thick cock heavy against his thigh and squeeze a little harder, enjoying how with each pulse of your fingers, eddie thrusts his hips into your chest.

he couldnt hold his hands at his sides anymore and tried palmed himself over your hands, but you tsk'ed them away before he could get any meaningful relief. "aw, honey, how do i know what you want if you don't use your words, huh?" you spit his own words he used on u just last night back at him, revelling in how it feels to be on the other side. eddie is so cute when he's flustered and can't think of anything he wants more than your hands under his boxers. "d'you want me to..." you cup at his balls with one hand, and bring your other to his waistband. "touch you..." you hook a finger under the elastic this time, "under here?" he can't come up with an answer for you other than a furious nod of his blushed face. you release the elastic you pulled taut and it dully snaps back onto the yummy path of hair on his lower stomach. god he's whining so loud and you fucking love how close to tears he is, you throw him a bone and sit up on your knees, kissing his jawline up to his lips. you slip a hand under his boxers as soon as your lips touch, and he almost screams. you massage at the base and slowly work your way up his shaft, preoccupying you, letting eddie slip his tounge past your lips. almost feeling bad about your cruelty, you let him kiss you sloppy as you start to spread his precum over the head of his cock. once you did that, he almost jerked you off of his lap, and that's when you've had enough. you take a step back from the lazy boy, admiring the pair of green and blue plaid he put on today, and yank the cotton clean off his hips to bunch at his knees with his jeans. you look at him through your lashes, biting a smile, and his giggles are delirious in response.

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

not proofread! sorry wayne ill get u a new lazyboy!!

a/n hiiiiii this is the first fic ive written in years and my first smutty fic! ive been a long long long time reader and always wanted to write fics to bam first post heheeh ALSO im taking requests! if anyone is reading this lol here's my inbox :)

pls lmk if u liked this :*

#these r some rlly long sentences lol #i already wanna make a part two #or at least a longer cohesive thing not just abt his boxers lol ToT #my writing #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut blurb #eddie munson x reader blurb #stranger things blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie smut #switch!eddie munson #switch!eddie #sub!eddie munson #sub!eddie #dom!reader

[somethingvicked]

When Love and Hate Collide

Eddie Munson song-fic.

Song lyrics belong to the band Def Leppard!

warnings: female reader, cruel Eddie, angst!

Eddie walked out of his trailer, seeing you sitting on your own porch in the opposite lot with your boombox beside you, listening to your music. Usually your music taste was similar to his, but when you were in a low mood you always went for power ballads. He used to teased you about that but right now he felt like someone had punched him when he saw you refusing to look in his direction, writing in your notebook, silently lip-syncing to the song.

You could have a change of heart If you would only change your mind Instead of slamming down the phone, girl For the hundredth time

He had tried calling you, reasoning with you, begging your forgiveness but it was plain to see that this time you've had enough.

I got your number on my wall But I ain't gonna make that call When divided we stand, baby United we fall

You two had been best friends forever. Your parents had rented the trailer in the lot opposite his and Wayne's when you were barely four years old and you had hit it off immediately.

He couldn't say when those feelings had developed into love. Maybe when your parents had sent you to camp the whole summer and you hadn't seen each other for two months? Maybe it was when Gareth Heath had commented on how you had come back from summer camp with a 'rack of lamb'? Maybe it was when you said that you had a small crush on Patrick Swayze and he got furious because Swayze was a pretty boy, nothing like him and he wanted you to think of only him.

Yet, he never acted on those feelings, despite the hints you dropped. He was scared that if it didn't work out he would lose you forever. That was his worst nightmare. He'd rather stay just friends then.

Got the time, got a chance, gonna make it Got my hands on your heart, gonna take it All I know I can't fight this flame

It was plain to see that it hurt you. Especially when he got drunk and flirted with other girls - maybe just to see how jealous you got, to ensure him you still loved him and only him - or when he sold weed to cheerleaders and they flirted with him, wearing their short skirts and scratching his arm with their painted nails to get a reduced price.

You never did anything of the sort. You were in love with Eddie and wanted no one else. Good thing you didn't because he might have punched the guy you showed the slighest bit of interest in.

It was only because Patrick Swayze was a hundred miles away in Hollywood - and too old for you - that Eddie hadn't killed him.

Not really, but still.

You could have a change of heart If you would only change your mind 'Cause I'm crazy 'bout you, baby Time after time

But last night at the Hideout when some skank (your words, not his) had all but draped herself over him and he had done nothing to prevent it, despite talking to you merely seconds before, you had slammed down your glass on the bar counter top and walked out.

He had pushed the girl off of him and raced after you wondering what was wrong and you had turned around, looking at him with such hatred in your eyes that he had to take a step back. Your voice was colder than ice when you said: "I'm done. Done, Munson (not Eddie. Munson.). You've been hurting me for years. Friends don't do that. And since you claim that's the only thing we are, then I say it's a shitty friendship and I'm better off without it. We're done. Don't call me. Don't visit. Don't talk to me. Never again."

Without you, one night alone Is like a year without you baby Do you have a heart of stone? Without you Can't stop the hurt inside When love and hate collide

He had been struck by surprise, then paralyzing fear before he shook himself out of it. You couldn't mean it... right? No, you were just angry. You would get over it and understand he didn't mean anything by it. You always did.

He had cursed himself a million times over for not going after you when you walked off. He had gone back inside, thinking a little distance would make you cool down.

It was merely hours later that he realized what a mistake he had made.

When he got home he had tried calling you, but you didn't answer. When your parents answered the phone they didn't even bother lying to him - they said you didn't want to talk to him and that was that.

He went over to your place the next day but you didn't come to the door. He knew you were home because once again your mom refused to lie to him, she simply said that you didn't want to see him and that he had to respect your choice.

When Monday rolled around you took the bus to school from the trailer park. You hadn't done that in years, always riding with him in his van. In school you avoided him like the plague, sitting with Robin instead of the Hellfire table. When the guys heard what had happened they all looked at him as if he had killed someone. Or rather, killed you.

I don't wanna fight no more I don't know what we're fighting for When we treat each other, baby Like an act of war

Now he didn't know what to do. It was like someone had reached into his chest and cut his heart out. He had tried saying sorry, even put letters underneath your door, saying he would do better. You still didn't talk to him.

Deep inside he hoped you would again, that you would realize that you missed him, just like he missed you. But for every day that passed he slowly realized that whatever feelings you had for him, he had fucked up one time too many and the pan of the scale had tipped over.

I could tell a million lies And it would come as no surprise When the truth is like a stranger Hits you right between the eyes

"You got to make this right," Wayne said when Eddie all but cried for help. "You obviously don't see her as a friend. Not to mention you hurt her so many times - trying to have your cake and eat it too! That's such a cruel thing to do, Eddie! I've not raised you to act like that! So tell her how you feel. For real. And you better spend the rest of your time making it up to her!"

There's a time and a place and a reason And I know I got a love to believe in All I know Got to win this time

So that same night he showed up on your porch with his acoustic guitar, strumming out the tones to the song you had played just the other day. Not caring whether your parents heard him or even called the cops on him.

Without you, one night alone Is like a year without you, baby Do you have a heart of stone? Without you Can't stop the hurt inside When love and hate collide

You could have a change of heart If you would only change your mind 'Cause I'm crazy 'bout you, baby Crazy, crazy

You opened the door, meeting his gaze for the first time in days.

"I... I love you, sweetheart," Eddie whispered. "I'm so sorry. So sorry for how I behaved. Please... please give me a chance to make this right. I can't live without you."

You shook your head. "I'm so goddamn angry at you, Eddie Munson. But... I love you too I thought it would be easier, living without you. It's not! I miss you so much!"

Eddie smiled and ran up to her, wrapping his arms around her tightly, both of them crying.

"But I'm telling you now - I'll castrate you if you ever hurt me again!" Y/N whispered and Eddie chuckled.

"I'll hand you the knife, baby."

"Don't bother - I'll use a spoon."

Without you, one night alone Is like a year without you, baby Do you have a heart of stone? Without you, one night alone Is like a year without you, baby If you have a heart at all Without you I can't stop the hurt inside When love and hate collide

@eddiemunsonfuxks

(please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful, but reblogs expand my reading circle!)

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson angst #with a happy ending #joseph quinn #stranger things #Spotify

[i-love-def-leppard]

Welcome Home (Def Leppard x Reader)

A/N: Hi everyone!! This is my first time ever writing something, let alone a fan-fiction so I’m a little nervous posting this. I am open to constructive criticism to improve my writing, which I promise will get better as time goes on. That being said, I hope you all enjoy my first story ever [EEEEKKKK]!!

🫶🏻 i-love-def-leppard

-

Dublin 1981 - Me and My Wine house

I walked up the rain stained steps of my home, thinking about how glad I was to finally be here after a long day of work.

Managing the local record store is something I am very grateful for. However, just like any other type of work environment, a few rude customers can quite literally turn my day to shit.

Quickly pushing my negative thoughts away, I step into the main entrance of my happy place as my nose becomes overwhelmed by the smell of someone cooking.

“Boooyyysss!! I’m homeee!!”

Immediately as those words leave my mouth, I become trampled by the one and only, Joe Elliott, running his way out the kitchen with pasta sauce stains on his shirt.

“Y/N, love! GOSH! The lord knows how much I’ve missed you and your precious face all day!”

He says as he releases his hands from my face while going in for a hug, never forgetting to leave a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

Suddenly raising his eyebrows with a smirk plastered on his adorable face, he says,

“Are you wearing what I think you’re wearin?!”

Quickly remembering that I’m wearing my cropped, v-neck, red Leppard tank top (paired with dark blue flare jeans and one of the boys leather jackets), I blush at his wandering eyes and proud facial expression.

“Well, duh Joe, of course!”

I say playfully shoving his chest.

“I’m very proud of you boys and how far you’ve all come with the band. Of course I’m gonna show you lot off any chance I get.”

“You are too good to us, love.” a new voice says from around the corner.

“Sav!!”

You exclaim, making your way around Joe’s figure to enter the curly haired bassist’s open arms.

Pulling away slowly from the embrace, Sav says,

“Nice outfit, Y/N/N.”

He smirks as his eyes trail down your form.

Leaving you blushing as always, he gives you no time to respond as he says,

“Anyone give you problems at the store today? Cause if they did, I swear on all things holy, I’ll-”

Sav’s words were suddenly cut off by two pairs of loud footsteps making their way down the stairs.

“I CALL DIBS ON HUGGING HER FIRST” yells Phil to his terror twin.

“Not if I get to her first, SLOW POKE!” Steve replies.

“I’m not slow Steve! I can beat you all day in a swimming race!” a furious Phil throws back.

“Yeah, alright merman. We all know you have some weird obsession with the water. Now knock it off in front of the lady.”

Steve says as he swiftly walks away from Phil pouting at the bottom of the stairs.

Laughing, you approach the taller blonde guitarist.

“Hi Steve. I’ve missed you.”

You say as you are engulfed in yet another Leppard hug.

His smell of cigarettes and signature cologne always gave you a comfort like no other.

“Apologies for Mr. Grumpy-pants, love” pointing at Phil.

“Now, I’d keep you in a hug all day if I could, but I’d upset blondie over there if I didn’t share you at least a little.”

Steve adds as he reluctantly removes his hands from around your waist.

“C’mere Phil” you look to him as you initiate a hug, giving him a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Instantly forgetting his small battle with Steve, a now relieved Phil whispers in your ear.

“Thank god your home. I’ve had to deal with them all day.”

Giggling at his words you see a sudden idea appear on his face.

“Y/N. Why don’t you take a break at that record store and let us take care of you. Come with us on our next tour, for the whole thing!”

“Then this way, we could see you all the time!”

“Phil, I’m only gone a few hours a day during the week haha” you reply.

“Just think about it, okay.” Phil slightly begs.

“Alright I will. And Phil, you’re sweet. You know I’d love that more than anything, but I’ve gotta contribute somehow” you reply.

“Aye! I know a way she can contrib-” Joe says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Oh shut it Joe” says Rick as he finally makes an appearance.

“I mean I wouldn’t be opposed to-” joins in Sav.

Rick is quick to slap Sav on the arm, while the rest of the group, including you, giggle at their dirty remarks.

Rick’s always been very protective of you, which you loved.

It’s no secret that the boys were all attracted to you in one way or another, and you to them.

Their constant flirtatious behavior was nothing new to you and you secretly loved it. They all knew that.

Pulling Rick in for the final hug, you can’t help but realize how grateful you are for your boys.

Snapping you out of your appreciative daydream, you feel Joe grab your hand.

You are suddenly being pulled out of Rick’s arms, into the direction of the kitchen.

“C’mon love. Into the kitchen we go!” Joe says.

“I’ve made dinner!” he grins.

“Ughhh” everyone in the room groans.

“We left him unsupervised for 30 minutes and he manages to sneak himself into the kitchen. Unbelievable.” a nervous Rick replies.

Shaking my head at their silliness, I can’t help but be forever grateful for getting to come home to this everyday.

My boys.

-

THE END!!!! Thank you for reading🩷🩷

#def leppard fan fiction #def leppard one shot #def leppard x reader #joe elliott #rick savage #phil collen #rick allen #steve clark #works by i-love-def-leppard #def leppard fanfic #joe elliott fanfiction #rick savage fanfic #steve clark fanfiction #Rick Allen fanfic #Phil collen fanfic

[luveline]

could i request remus getting in a fight (i know it’s not like him at all but maybe it was ab the reader?? idk) and then shy!reader has to patch him up and it’s rlly fluffy and cute. i love all your work!! 🤍

i did rockstar!remus hope you don't mind it's not a huge detail CW r is cornered by a creep, fighting, bloody knuckles ♡ shy!fem!reader | 1k words

The dressing room is silent. 

Remus sits slouched in a chair with his hand hiding his face, fingertips aligned over his brow and the pad of his thumb pressed to his top lip. His knuckles are bruised. Deep, cruel bruises. The index knuckle is split and scabbed with dried blood. 

You lean against the vanity, your cheeks tearstained but dry. He's still so angry. 

Not with you. The opposite, he's angry for you. Some techie had tried to lay hands on you during the set. You remember Remus' face filled with post-show adrenaline and how it had drained when you told him what happened. He'd been very quiet, characteristic if abrupt, and asked you who. 

There's a roll of bandages, a square of gauze and an antiseptic wipe in your hands. 

"Remus?" you ask. 

He drops his hand and blinks. The anger is occluded by fondness. "What, dove?" 

"Can I fix your hand?" 

Remus straightens in his chair. "Sure you can." 

You put the gauze and bandages in his lap and step in between his legs. His hand on the armrest, you curl your fingers around his wrist to hold him still and dab at his split knuckle gently. 

Remus pulls your waist. You let him, unsurprised when his face drops into your abdomen. 

"Sorry, dovey." 

You stop your wiping and swallow. There's lots of things you want to say. Don't be sorry. That guy cornered me and he could've done worse. You're brave. Thank you for defending me. 

"I love you," is what you say instead. 

He looks up. "You're not upset?" 

"No," you say. You reach for the gauze in his lap and lay it over his knuckles. "Can you hold this, please?" 

Remus gives your hip a small squeeze before he does as you ask. You wrap the bandage around his hand and his bruised knuckles, feeling silly because you don't really know what you're doing, you just want him to feel looked after.

"I didn't know you…" You let his hand fall gently and put your hands on his shoulders, fingers slow and shy but very, very desperate, coveting the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

"Go on," he prompts as he always does, tilting his head back in your hold. 

"I've never seen you fight someone." 

"I don't do it often," he says dryly. 

You can't help but laugh. "No, I'd hope not."

You both go silent, looking at the other with a vast range of sticky sweet emotions. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry," he says eventually. 

You hesitate, eyes closing. Your words are slow; you think of each one carefully before you say them, "You didn't make me cry. I was just worried about you. Watching James have to pull you off of that guy, it was… it was a lot." 

"I'm sorry," he says again. 

You open your eyes, find him shaking his head from side to side, lips parted in regret. 

You smile and your cheeks apple, eyes squinting ever so slightly. 

Remus smiles. "But you already know that," he says. 

"Uh-huh. Doesn't matter," you whisper. "None of it matters. I'm just glad you're okay." 

He pulls you in close and you feel heat move over you in a wave, worse when his hand comes to the back of your thigh. He drags your leg onto the chair between his until you're forced to brace yourself on his shoulders and lean your weight in his lap. 

"Don't be silly," he murmurs. "Sit properly." 

And you explode internally, climbing onto his thighs with an awful churning in your tummy. He makes sure you're settled comfortably, doesn't care that it takes a lot of shuffling or that the chair is hardly big enough to accommodate you both. 

"There, that's better." 

You take your hands back from his shoulders and stare at his t-shirt, a black short sleeve sporting the Def Leppard logo in burning orange. You trace the letters with your eyes. 

"Hey," he says, tapping under your chin with his free hand, the other a clear heat behind your back. "You've gone all shy on me." 

You ignore him lest you spur him on. He tsks and leans back as far as he can in the chair, dark eyes half-lidded, a smugness in the uptilt of his mouth. 

"Does it hurt?" you ask. 

"No, dove. My nurse did a great job. She was super fucking pretty, too. The sweetest thing." 

You press your lips together tight to smother a pleased little laugh and move your gaze up. He looks super serious as always, his eyes unflinching where they pour into yours. 

He rubs under your eye with the very tip of his ring finger. When he's done he moves to the second, wiping away your smudged mascara with all tenderness. 

He graces your cheek with the side of his hand. "Poor girl. Still so pretty covered in tears." 

He's sick. In the head. You hope your pout clues him in to how unfair he's being and he reads it wrong, or knowing Remus he doesn't read it wrong at all, only chooses to act as if he did when he pulls you down. Firm, almost stern, his hand slides up the length of your back and holds your shoulder as his lips press to yours. You close your eyes and let yourself be kissed, too melted by him to do anything more besides kiss back lightly and screw your fingers in his shirt. 

"Slow down. I'm injured," he whispers. 

That does it. You're pent up and tired and he has no business making jokes at your expense. You laugh so much you have to drop your forehead to his chin, physically unable to hold yourself up. 

Remus pats your back. "I love you," he says warmly. "Didn't say it back before." 

You wrap your arms around his neck and sigh. You hadn't doubted it. 

#marauders era #marauders #rockstar!au #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #bassist!remus

[syddsatyrn]

Chapter 1 ⛤ Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤ Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader

⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking / smoking, fluff, friends to lovers, smut, oral, p in v

⛤Words: 1.4k

⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard

⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old highschool crush.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. Everybody give it up for our bet reader @hellfiremunsonn ! This is sadly our last chapter. But if you know from my previous fics, flattery works with me. So comment/reblog if you want to see another chapter. It was so fun writing this. I love making these and I'm glad you enjoy them too.

⛤Chapter 5: Just Stay Eddie went back inside the bar, and told the group you were feeling pretty exhausted from all the excitement. He slipped Steve a 20 dollar bill so he could take care of the tab later. Eddie thought he was being sly but everyone knew exactly what was going on. It was nothing personal, you both just needed some time alone to process all these feelings and move forward. Eddie opened the driver side door and climbed in. Seeing you in his leather jacket while seated comfortably on the passenger side of his van sparked a bit of pride, he could feel it in his chest. It was his moment and he was going to make it happen. Eddie pulled out of the parking lot and turned down the main road. He turns the radio on and lights the cigarette hanging from his mouth. You were once again taken aback by how kind he is, how he’s always looking out for you. You couldn't stop staring at his handsome face, he’s always made you feel weak in the knees but this time was different. It’s getting darker, there aren't many cars on the road. When you look out the window you notice how the sky is littered with bright stars, a sight you haven't seen in a long time. Eddie pulls into the apartment complex parking lot and parks in an empty space. He shuts off the engine and before you knew it, he was opening the van door. You take his hand as you carefully hop out. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and leads you up to his place.  “I’ve got a little something for you upstairs.” He grins and kisses the top of your head. “Oh yeah? What might that be?” You return his playful tone. “All in due time, my love.” He says as he unlocks the front door. You expected Dustin to be there but it seems he’s gone out. You make it to Eddie's room and he quickly shuts the door behind you. He opens a small cabinet in his desk and pulls out two small glasses and a bottle of rye whiskey. “Can I pour you a drink?” “Yes please.” You giggle, Eddie used to be so rough around the edges, when did he get so sophisticated? He hands you the half full glass and you take a seat on the bed. He opens his closet and you can hear him fumbling around inside. After a moment he returns with something in his closed hand. He presents you with this red guitar pick necklace and you immediately recognize it.  “Do you remember this?” Eddie asks, taking a seat next to you. He motions for you to turn around and you hesitate at first but eventually turn your body away from him. He takes a sip and sets his glass down on the table. “Yeah! You used to wear it everyday, how could I forget?” You reply, you almost forgot he asked you a question. He drapes the necklace around your neck and adjusts the clasp. Eddie moves your hair off to one side, “Y/N, you and I both know this can't be temporary. I don’t want this to end when you leave, so I need you to tell me something, okay?” He runs his fingers through your hair.  “Do you really love me? Or is this something temporary. We’re adults now, things are different and more complicated. But I know my feelings for you have never changed.” Eddie admits while resting his chin on your shoulder. “I do…I love you so much it's stupid. At first I felt the same way, like you could have any girl you wanted so I had to be just some fling, right?” You take a drink, the liquor burns your throat, reminding you that you are in fact, an adult with adult feelings. You place your glass on the side table. “Eddie, I don’t think I want to go back to Shelbyville.” The thought hit you so hard. Why are you still there? “You don’t have to go. You could just stay and be mine.” He says, barely above a whisper. His face is really close, the thought of being his and only his made your heart pound. “Just stay.” He whispers in your ear. His voice is sticky sweet and his words ignite a fire within you. 

You turned around and kissed him hard. Eddie wraps one arm around your waist, the other carding through your hair. Your arms slowly wrap around his neck, each kiss more heated than the last. While your tongues dance in sync, Eddie slides his jacket off your shoulders and it falls to the floor. He slips one hand up your shirt which sends a shiver up your spine. You tug on Eddie's hoodie, he immediately gets the hint and removes it along with his shirt. It didn't take long to get you out of your clothes and in his sheets. Lost in the moment, you both surrendered to desire, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. Lips brushed against cheeks, trailing tender kisses along jawlines and necks. Each touch a whispered promise of longing and each kiss was a unveiled secret.  Eddie explored every inch of your body with his fingertips. He was slow, reveling in the moment that he thought he would never have. He maneuvered himself on top of you and continued to plant kisses down your neck to your chest. With his free hand he rubs his thumb over your sensitive nipple. Your breath hitched and you let out a small whine. Your mind was in an intoxicating haze as Eddie’s lips went lower and lower. The anticipation was killing you but at the same time the thrill of it all was magic. Eddie kisses your inner thighs, you grab ahold of the sheets. He slips his tongue between your folds and everything melted away. The room was soon filled with soft moans and heavy breathing, you started to lose yourself in it all. You didn't have to chase that climax for very long, Eddie made sure to get you there with no effort on your part. When his face appeared from under the sheets you couldn't help but grab the back of his neck and kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. Eddie slipped himself between your legs and positioned himself at your entrance. Your hands roamed his body while you kissed his collarbones. He slowly slid his cock inside of you, he let out a low groan. This is everything Eddies ever dreamed about, the mental image of you underneath him will be burned into his mind for eternity. The way you feel is pure ecstasy to him, your soft skin and the way you taste was better than he could have imagined. He slowly pulls out and back in, making sure not to cause you any pain. He picks up the pace as you moan into his neck. “You’re so wet ah–You feel so fucking good.” Eddie growls into your ear, he thrusts into you deeper, and deeper. Eventually earning him a cacophony of moans and swears from your pretty mouth. It made him smirk, knowing he could unravel you so easily. He motions for you to roll over onto your stomach. You follow his lead and arch your back, allowing him to slide inside of you once again. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer and thrusts into a little harder than before. Your face is buried in a pillow, all Eddie could hear was more muffled screams and something that sounded like his name. “Mhmm…that's my girl, you sound so pretty. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this.” He says, his breath is starting to sound heavy, he could feel you tightening around him. He knows you're close, even after all these years he can still read your body like an open book. “Eddie I’m gonna…” You trail off, Eddie keeps up the pace, his fingers dig into your hips as you both climax, one after the other. Eddie lets out a moan followed by a string of swears. Thank goodness no one is home yet, it felt like you both made a lot of noise. Eddie slides out of you and pulls the covers over the both of you. Your legs intertwined, he peppers your face with kisses and you giggle. His arms wrap around you, pulling you as close as possible. You’ve craved these quiet moments of connection. In Eddie's arms you found sanctuary and safety. There were no masks to hide behind, no pretenses to uphold. Your fingers trace lazy circles on his skin. “Now I definitely don’t want to go back to Shelbyville.” You finally break the silence and Eddie chuckles.

“It was that good huh?” Eddie smirks, “If you stay, you can have this whenever you like.” He affectionately taps your nose with his index finger.  “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Munson.” You kiss him softly, “I accept your terms.” You whisper against his lips, followed by a smile. Eddie presses his lips to yours once again, his fingers card through your hair. Time seemed like it was standing perfectly still, all your worries have melted away. It was a feeling you haven't felt in a long time, something like contentment or peace. “Where home!” Said Steve’s disembodied voice carried through the apartment. “Shit…” You pull back and both curse in unison.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #syddsatyrn #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #eddie smut #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader smut #rockstar eddie munson

[amiscreations]

I’M MEETING THE LEPPARDS!!!!

I somehow managed to get tickets to their album signing in Sheffield! I’M SO HAPPYYY!!!

#it was sUCH an ordeal bc I thought they were sold out for ages #even tho I had already booked a new hotel so I could stay that extra day #ik that was stupid of me lmao😅 #but it all worked out in the end! #I feel like Steve was looking down on me #he wanted me to meet his friends #also idk but I think Steve would have LOVED this new album #he was a rockstar with the incredible mind of a classical musician #Def Leppard #the stadium tour

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 14C: Where Do We Go Now?

Soundtrack: “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” Guns N’ Roses, 1987 [click here to listen]

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go?

- Guns N’ Roses, “Sweet Child O’ Mine” (1987)

Tucson || July 1988

AA met every Thursday in a church hall not far from the studio. She’d borrowed Bobby’s Trans Am to drive Jamie, holding his hand the whole way, hearing about his chat with Alec – who had graciously agreed during their January trip to New York to be Jamie’s sponsor.

She kissed him when he went inside. Needing some peace and quiet of her own, in the car, as she waited.

She had tried NA off and on, but it hadn’t really clicked. She was so very happy that AA really worked for Jamie – it was always much easier for him to open up to perfect strangers – and she was grateful that he could get the support he needed, at a moment’s notice, in any city.

Not to mention that the Friends of Bill took the “anonymous” in Alcoholics Anonymous quite seriously – meaning, in those meetings Jamie was just Jamie the alcoholic, not Jamie Fraser the frontman of Print, not the rock star. Just a man who fought daily battles with addiction, who was trying to be better, who just so happened to have the number six record in the country today.

It was hard. It was always going to be hard. But he was worth it. The life they had together was worth it.

She pulled out the folded envelope. Smoothed the creases against the steering wheel. Reading and reading and re-reading the return address.

Listening to Guns N’ Roses and Def Leppard and Poison and Cheap Trick on the radio.

She didn’t see Jamie cross the parking lot. Jumped when he slid into the passenger seat, smiling, with a kiss.

“Hey.”

She offered a tight smile. “Hey. How are you?”

“Much better.”

His gaze found the envelope.

He didn’t need to say anything.

She couldn’t say anything.

But now that he was here, she opened it.

Held out the single sheet of paper.

They read.

Dr. Claire Beauchamp

via Colum Laird, Broch Productions

Dear Dr. Beauchamp,

Thank you for your letter and providing a forwarding address. Three months ago, the BMC board unanimously voted to terminate your employment. For legal reasons we will not provide further details, and the board’s decision is final.

However, we have communicated to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts that your medical license should be restored, with the provision that you no longer practice medicine in any kind of high-stress environment. You may contact the medical board at the below address to request a copy of…

Jamie watched Claire read and re-read and re-read.

“Sweet Child O’ Mine” played softly on the radio.

A long, long moment.

The song shifted to the bridge.

Where do we go now, sweet child? Axl Rose murmured.

Jamie took a breath. “Where do we go now, Claire?” he whispered.

She folded the paper and put it back in the envelope. Laid it on the dash. Reached beneath her shirt to pull the long chain up over her neck. Settled her left hand on Jamie’s thigh, skin hot through his jeans.

Jamie unclasped the chain, letting his grandmother’s engagement ring slide free. He slipped the ring onto her finger. Brought her hand to his lips, kissing so softly.

“I’d like us to have an extra day in Boston when we’re there next week. So that we can pack up my apartment.”

She was looking through the windshield, face turned to him in profile.

“Yes. What else?”

“I’d like a little house in the mountains of North Carolina. Not too far from The Ridge. It’s so beautiful and peaceful there. I’m sure Dougal and Gillian can help us find something.”

Gently he bit her knuckles. “Something small. Kitchen and living room. Bedroom for us. A room I can use for music. And a room for your medicine.”

She nodded. “I’ll transfer my license – I’ve already looked into how to do that. I can file the paperwork when we get to Boston. I don’t know if I want to be in a private practice, or just volunteer in a clinic, or maybe something else. We’ll get settled, and then we’ll decide.”

“We will. I – are you happy, Claire?”

She smiled tightly. “More…relieved. And yes, I’m happy, Jamie. Happy to be free. Happy to be marrying you.”

They sat in silence for a long while. Listening to the final notes of Slash’s guitar. And then the first two minutes of INXS and “New Sensation”.

Memory flared – the last time she heard this song was the one time she’d seen Jamie nude, changing into his leather pants backstage in Orlando, when she’d entered his dressing room without knocking.

She swallowed. “I want the house to have at least one spare bedroom.”

He laced their fingers. “Of course – for guests.”

She flushed. Finally met his eyes.

“Yes. And for children.”

He released a suddenly shaky breath. “Oh, my love. Yes.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m never taking this ring off again.”

He leaned across the console and kissed her. Kissed her. Kissed her.

#outlander #jamie and claire #little bit better than i used to be #outlander fanfic