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corrodedcoffins-blog · 6 months

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The First Meeting

main masterlist

spencer reid x famous!reader Universe

word count: 4.1 k

warnings: stalking, murder, character asking to die (if I missed something please let me know)

Today was supposed to be an easy day for the BAU. It was a paperwork day, no case, no one dying on their watch.

These were some of Spencer's favourite days, don’t get him wrong he loves being in the field and profiling killers, and when they arrest an unsub, that’s the best feeling.

But having days every now and again where they don’t have to travel and Spencer can read and reflect on their previous case, he greatly enjoys it. And he can’t say he’s the only one, but he can say he’s the only one that uses paperwork days to do paperwork.

Penelope walks in the glass doors humming a tune, foreign to Spencer.

“You got that James Dean day dream, hmm hm mhmmm, I got that red lip classic”

“What’s got you so happy, babygirl?” Derek says, from across Spencer.

“Um, because The Met Gala is tonight! Biggest night in Fashion! And no case means I can watch it.”

“Oh, I must have forgot to put it on my calendar.” Derek, sarcastically remarks while getting up and out of his chair on his way to refill his coffee cup. All the while JJ comes rushing the bullpen, giving the rest of her co-workers a sympathetic face.

“Just when I thought, we would have an easy day.” Emily mumbles getting out her desk chair and walking away with JJ.

“Wally Melman, a music producer in New York, was killed two weeks ago, and Natali Ryan , a singer and songwriter, was killed 4 days ago also in New York.” JJ says while the screen behind her shows pictures of the crime scene.

“The police said they found pictures with the victim's face with ‘You’re Next’ written in red marker across their face. Suspected to have gotten in the mail.”

“And why have they called us now?” Derek says, clearing knowing there was more JJ was going to say but wanting her to get to it quicker.

“Yesturday, another singer/songwriter, by the name of Y/n L/n-”

“Oh. My God!” Penny interrupts JJ, having come in to tell the team an update she had gotten from the NYPD. “uh- sorry, I’m sorry.. Um, the NYPD wants a couple of us to go straight to the crime scene once we land, and that the next vic- uh Y/n L/n I suppose- is at the station waiting.” Penny says, turning and leaving after finishing her sentence.

“Okay everyone, wheels up in 30. JJ can fill us in on the jet.”

When the team arrived in New York, Hotch sent Rossi and Emily to the recent crime scene, and JJ to talk to the media, while himself, Spencer, and Derek went to the station.

When the three got to the station they were shown the note Y/n had gotten from the unsub, different to the others, hers having ‘You Owe Me’ written across her face instead. The team walked into the room they were told Y/n would be in.

Spencer knew she would be pretty, everyone in Hollywood was gorgeous that’s how it worked, but this girl was easily the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, even with her bleached hair that he could assume was a split second decision.

She sat on a chair next to one of the officers' desks, as if she was like everyone else and not a world-wide popstar. Y/n and her manager Joe look up, hearing footsteps walk into the room. She stood up to shake Hotch’s hand.

“Hi, I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you and thank you so much.” “Of course”

She goes to shake Derek hand, saying a greeting similar to the one she gave Hotch, then she comes face to face with Spencer, or possibly- not definitely the most beautiful man she has ever seen, sticking out her hand she says, “Hi, nice to meet you..”

“Dr. Spencer Reid- or just Spencer, you don’t have to call me doctor.” “Nice to meet you Spencer.” Y/n stays looking at Spencer maybe a second longer than she should have. It’s just so hard to look away from a man that beautiful. When Y/n does finally look away, she takes a seat and they begin their questioning.

“How well do you know Natalie Ryan?”

“Uh, we talked when we were at the same events and were always friendly, but we weren’t friends.”

“How about Wally Melman?”

“What?”

“Wally Melman, he was a producer who was killed a couple months ago.” Spencer jumps in, making Y/n turn to address him, while she asks her next statement .

“The paper said that it was a robbery.” “The paper was wrong.” Derek responded quickly.

“Did you know him?” Hotch asks, wanting to get back to the questions he has for Y/n.

“I wanted to work with him on my last album, but he started working with..” Y/n cut herself off.

“Who?” Spencer asks concernedly, seeing the scared look on Y/n's face.

“Natalie Ryan, and they beat Y/n for song of the year” Joe says while Y/n is setting her face to rest in her hands, trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Do you ever have the feeling that someone is following you, or watching you?” Derek asks.

“Only every second I spend outside my house. I have fans, and paparazzi following me everywhere. It’s part of the job.”

“Do you ever get repetitive phone calls, hang ups, or gifts sent anonymously?” Spencer asks.

“I receive flowers, Lilies, my favourite. The seventh of each month they get sent to each of my homes, they just show up on the doorstep. Never a note, nothing.”

After a few more of their questions it just becomes too much, knowing that these people are being killed because of her or ‘for’ her and Y/n gets up and leaves the room. Not being able to actually leave given the cameras outside, she doesn’t get too far. And Spencer is right behind her.

“Y/n wait!”

“Can you explain what the hell is going on?”

“Well, it’s still rather speculative, but it appears there’s a delusional assassin who’s killing people to help further your career. It probably started as a stalker. An erotomaniac stalker. There’s a psychopathology of the evolution of these types of stalkers and the fact that he’s contacting you indicates that he believes you owe him something. This model frequently concludes itself with one of two possibilities, either the stalker will kill himself or he’ll kill the object of his affection.”

If Spencer wasn’t talking about the possibility of Y/n’s untimely death, she would have had more time to find Spencer’s rambling and seemingly never ending knowledge hot.

Y/n had gotten home from her time at the station, hoping to be able to relax as she has the Met tomorrow night. But when she had gotten to her front door the yellow notepad paper taped onto it caught her eye.

After reading the note she called the station immediately. The BAU had arrived looking over the note, Y/n was in the room but not listening, she onlys snaps back into listening to the conversations when she hears Spencer.

“In English?” one of the officers asks.

“That is English actually.” Y/n smiles at that, while Spencer continues, getting cut off by Derek not too far into his explanation. Y/n finally speaks up, after the team starts talking about how she should continue, as if she isn’t there.

“I’m standing right here guys..”

“If we did remove you from the street, you couldn’t stay here, we would have to take you to an undisclosed location.”

“I have a fitting here in 30 mins, and the Met tonight, then I’m all yours. Look, I don't want to be afraid of this lunatic.”

"We can clear all but essential personnel, and up your security.”

“Derek and Spencer will stay here with you.”

“Okay.”

The team getting Y/n ready for the Met have set up, Y/n just finished getting hair and makeup done in just her underwear and a robe. Spencer walks up to Y/n while she’s opening a greenhouse ginger shot to drink.

“I’m sorry if I was insensitive earlier.” Spencer says, referring to when he followed her outside of the questioning room and told her there was a possibility this stalker/assassin guy will kill her, just a tad insensitive.

But nonetheless Y/n responds with, “It’s fine, you were just doing your job, right?” “Yeah.” Y/n takes her ginger shot with a look of remorse on her face. She reaches for the soda in Spencer’s hand, to wash it down.

“You don’t mind sharing with me do you?” Spencer quickly shakes his head mumbling a quick ‘no’ while Y/n’s team calls her to get into the dress, Y/n takes off the robe she was wearing, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen, then throwing the robe over a nearby chair. Now standing in just her underwear she smiles at Spencer before walking over to the team helping her get into the dress.

Leaving Spencer to watch her as she subtly sways her hips slightly more than usual when she walks. Spencer takes a sip of the soda Y/n had handed back after taking a sip, Derek coming over to tease Spencer about the scene he just watched.

“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” “Shut up.” Spencer says as he walks away. “Go get ‘em, lover.”

Y/n didn’t get to stay at the Met nearly as long as she wished. With double the security and Spencer there with her, she knew she wouldn’t have the night she was hoping for, but maybe something close.

But as she danced with Tom Hiddleston, Spencer got the call to take her to the safe house. Spencer didn’t really want to interrupt Y/n dancing on who he assumes is another famous person, but he had to, for her safety.

“Um- Y- Y/n we have to go.” Spencer says while struggling to gain her attention.

“Really?” “Yeah..” “Okay” she sighs, turning to Tom, mumbling an apology and some fake excuse.

They got to Y/n's home. Spencer rambling about safety measures Y/n should take. “You should also probably change all your phone numbers.” “I’m unlisted.” “Anytime you call an 800 number or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. If someone gets your cell phone number they can go online and research all your records.”

Y/n looks at Spencer expecting him to continue, but when he doesn’t she assumes he’s done, and gets up to walk into her kitchen, saying as she gets up, “You’re very cute when you ramble.” Causing Spencer to freeze but when she turns the corner out of his sight he rushes to keep up with her.

“You should also probably carry a piece of paper and a pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious licence plates that often reappear.” Spence trails of looking closely at a collage hung up on Y/n’s wall

“It’s a photographic collage. I like how obscure it is.”

“You should also get a dog. Like a guard dog of some sort.” Spencer says, staring intently at the collage but not acknowledging what Y/n said about it.

“I don’t think so, I'm a cat person. Dogs are not for me… Earl grey good?”

“Wha- what?”

“Tea, do you want some tea?”

“Uh yes, yes sure.”

“Okay” Y/n says smiling at his nervousness.

Y/n walks into the living room, in her swimsuit with a robe overtop, coming to stand next to Spencer while he stares intently at the picture collage on Y/n’s wall.

“Are you feeling anything?” “There is something definitely appealing about it.” “That’s a start” Y/n says while chuckling.

Turning on her heels towards the back door to the pool. This catches Spencer’s actions wondering what she's doing, he asks, “What are you doing?” “Going for a swim.” Y/n responds nonchalantly. “What? No, Y/N!” Spencer yells following her, but before he can reach her she dives into the pool.

Swimming up to the surface and wiping her face with her hands. She looks so gorgeous, she looks like a movie star, which is not far off. But Spencer really shouldn’t be thinking about how beautiful she is when he’s job is to keep her safe, and her being out here is not safe.

“Y/n, you cannot do this.” “Just a few minutes?” She ‘asks’ while giving Spencer puppy dog eyes. “Go get a suite in the house.” “What? No, I’m not going to grab a suit. Are you kidding me? No.” Spencer says in that high pitched tone he does, she’s only heard it once before, but she can’t help but find it so cute.

“Join me.” “No, I’m going to join you.” “Why not?” “You’re being pursued by a psychotic killer who shoots people in the head!” “I’m not going to stop living my life because of him.” Y/n turns to float in the water. “Y/n, I’m begging you. Will you please get out of the pool?”

“Come on, Spence, you should live a little.” “Live a little? I’ve not known you for 24 hours, I feel like I’ve already aged 10 years.” “Ugh, I can’t be that bad.” “Yes, you are that bad.” Y/n turns off of her back and starts to swim to the edge of the pool Spencer is standing at.

“Fine, but can you help me out at least?” She says putting on an innocent face as if she really did want help out of the pool. When Spencer leans down to grab her hand to help her up, Y/n pulls him into the pool causing a big splash following after Spencer falls in.

Which then causes a laugh to come from Y/n as Spencer rises to the water's surface.

“Yes, very funny. Laugh it up, Y/n. Hilarious. My gun’s wet. That’s just great” Spencer swims to the edge to get his gun out of the water, Y/n swimming behind him, still chuckling.

“My clothes.” “I told you to grab a suit.”

While Spencer looks down at his wet chest, Y/n’s hand comes to rest on his peck, causing Spencer to look up at Y/n. When he looks at her, she is already looking in his eyes, her eyes asking the question ‘do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?’ the answer being ‘yes’ as Spencer starts to lean in. Not knowing what he’s doing, leaning in to kiss Y/n L/n global superstar? Who does he think he is, thinking she would want to kiss him? But contrary to Spencer's beliefs, Y/N leans in too, pulling his body closer to hers faster by his tie. As their lips collide, it feels as if the world slows down. For the first time in a long time Y/n feels normal, regular, ordinary, in the best possible way. She feels in the way Spencer's lips are moving against hers that he doesn’t want her for her fame, or looks, but for her. Just her. But then Spencer pulls away. It had only been a couple seconds, how could a kiss that short hold that much emotion? Spencer’s words stop her from thinking too much.

“This is completely inappropriate.” “Spence..” Y/n looks into Spencer's eyes only looking away when she closes them and pulls him into another kiss, by his tie. This kiss, still sweet and emotion filled, yet rougher, as if they had gotten that much more comfortable now versus 15 seconds ago. Their lips move together roughly, Y/n tongue brushing Spencer’s lips looking for access, which causes Spencer to move his lips back from Y/n’s again. “No, there’s this thing called transference.” Spencer says, all the while Y/n is trying to recover from the best kiss of her life, and Spencer has no idea. “Do you not like me?” “What?” Spencer says quickly like him not liking her, and is just the most insane idea in the world, and truthfully that’s not far off. “Was that kiss not good?” “No- no it was very good.” “Because I like you.” “I like you too. It’s just I’m a federal agent. You know. And I’m supposed to protect you.” “Then you should keep me close.” Y/n mumbles moving her lips to Spencers again. Spencer pulls back to start talking again, as Y/N’s kisses move to his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin every so often, the first nibble causing Spencer to let out a surprised noise that quickly turns into a moan. “I’m just, hmm.. I’m a little worried, you know? We’re in a pool.” “Are we?” “And it’s uh.. We’re pretty much exposed.” Y/n moves to give Spencer's lips a quick peck, before responding to his concerns. “We have cops. We have cops posted out front.” Y/n cuts herself off to kiss Spencer again, “There are coyotes out back.” Y/n pauses looking at Spencer’s lips, while licking her own, then shooting her eyes up to Spencer’s “And then it’s just you and me.” Y/n moves her lips to be hovering over Spencer’s their noses rubbing against each other, it feels much more intimate than just kissing him, breathing in the after shave and cologne mixed with chlorine soaked into his skin is a smell Y/n would never get sick of, no matter how much she hated the smell of chlorine. She moves her lips back to the spot she found on his neck that makes him the most reactive. “Stop- I have to tell you something.” “What?” “I didn’t want to tell you this before, because I was a little bit worried… I didn’t know how to say it, but I can’t not tell you.” “Spence, just tell me. What is it?” “Your manager, Joe… Hotch went to check on him, but he got there too late.” Y/n looks into Spencer’s eyes any ounce of a look that would tell her he wasn’t serious. Because Joe couldn’t be dead. Not because of her, Joe was like family, no matter how weird he was. Joe was always there. Y/n turns away not being able to look at Spencer, “How could you-” She turns back to him, looking Spencer in the eyes as she aks, “How could you not tell me?” “I was afraid you’d be upset.” “You knew? How could you know and not tell me?” “Y/n, I’m so sorry” Y/n moves towards the edge of the pool to pull herself out, Spencer trying to help her. “Don’t- Don’ touch me! Please, don’t touch me!” Y/n gets out walking back into the house with a towel around herself, leaving Spencer in the pool.

Spencer walks into Y/n’s living room, seeing her sitting on her couch crying, he wants to comfort her. Just don't know how. “Y/n?...Are you still… Are you okay?” “Joe was like family.” Hearing Y/n cry hurts Spencer more than he thought possible from a girl he met not even 24 hours ago. “It’s just so hard to trust people in this industry, you don’t know who to believe.Everybody wants something from you. And I felt- I thought you were different.” “I know I should have told you.” “I told him not to.” Rossi cuts in having heard most of the conversation from behind Spencer. “He was only following my orders.” Rossi pats Spencer's shoulder while leaving the room. “The last time I could really trust people was when I moved to Nashville.” Y/n says, all the while Spencer is decoding the picture collage on Y/n’s wall. “Nashville, you said you lived you Houston street? And you were on KZ fm in high school?..” “Yeah..?” When Y/n sees the way Spencer is intensely staring at the collage she also gets up, to stand next to him. “I need to take this thing about.” Spencer says while not looking away. “What?” “I’ll put it back. I think I see images of you. Guys!”

Y/n stands to the side with Derek while Spencer and Emily are putting the pieces together. “Y/n, it looks like someone has been stalking you for years.”

“Yeah, this tells your whole life story. Awards, Billboard charts, Albums.”

“Everything since moving to Nashville.”

“Who gave you this collage?” Derek asked, leaning over the island counter. “Um- he did” Y/N says pointing at a picture on the collage. “Who is he?” “Uh- Parker Dunley, I don’t really know him, he just owns a gallery I go to sometimes.”

Spencer gets off the phone quickly turning to Y/N. “Y/N, do you someone by the name of Veronica Hartley?” “Roni? Yeah, of course I know her. I’ve known her for years. She’s one of my assistants.” Their conversation gets cut off by Y/n’s phone ringing. “What is it?” Spencer asks, seeing the way her eyes widened when she read the caller ID.

“That’s her calling now.”

“Is she calling from her cell phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Y/n, we think Roni’s the stalker.”

“No- No way.”

“Answer the phone. Act completely natural, the longer you keep her on the line the more likely we’ll be able to trace the call.. Trust me.” Spencer walks away to call the team, while Y/n answers Roni’s call.

“Hello?…Roni?...” Spencer turns to Y/N and gives her a signal to keep talking.

“Rons?... You’re tired?......I saw you today?.... I don’t know what you’re talking about.. I remember.. Roni, that was just one weekend…”

“Y/n” Spencer whisper yells, after getting off the phone with Penny, finding out Roni’s calling inside the house.

“How did she get inside?”

“She has keys.”

Spencer starts searching the house Y/n walking behind him. When they get up to a guest bedroom, Y/n feels the barrel of a gun being pressed to her skull, Spencer quickly turns around.

“Put down the gun.” Roni demands. “Roni..” Spencer says while lowering his gun. “Don’t call me ‘Roni” you don’t know me! Come on, Y/n, let’s go. We have to go, baby. Come on.” Y/n looks in Spencer’s eyes begging him to do something. “Roni, don’t hurt her. You don’t need to hurt her.” “You don’t know anything. I would never hurt her. I created her" "No you didn’t.” “Yes, I did you stupid, ungrateful, little bitch.. I can’t believe I ever loved you.” “Roni, she.. She loves me now.” Roni moves her gun from pointing it at Y/n’s head to pointing it at Spencer. “She told me so. When we were in the pool. She kissed me. Now she loves me okay?” “No.” “Tell her we kissed in the pool.” “No!’ Roni yells this time switching from pointing her gun from Spencer to Y/n. Y/n looks at Spencer hopefully to tell her the next move, when he nods his head at her she says, “Yes, we kissed.” Roni then pushes Y/n, and Spencer tackles Roni to the ground, grabbing her gun, and pointing it at her. “Kill me! Please. Kill me! I’ll be so much happier!” But Spencer shakes his head, lowering the gun as he says, “No, we’re going to get you some help.”

Y/n is standing in the station talking to her publicist, while news vans are lined up outside.

“I don’t want any media.” “Come on, Y/n” “No. No media.” “Okay, no media. Let me deal with these guys then.”

After Y/n’s publicist leaves, Spencer walks up to Y/n. “I wish we didn’t meet under these circumstances. More normal maybe.” “Y/n, believe me, no matter how we met, I’m glad we did.” Y/n feels her whole body, warm at that, she turns her head, knowing Spencer can see the blush on her face. They’re interrupted when Derek yells for Spencer. “Hey, Reid. Come on, we got to move.” “Well, um- here, take this.” Y/n passes Spencer a receipt she had written her new number on. “Would you- if it’s okay with you, give me a call.” “Yeah, I would love to.” Rossi comes walking over. “I hate to intrude, kid, but we’re waiting.” “Yeah- yeah a second.” “So- call me, I’ll be waiting.” Y/n turns to walk away, but Spencer puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Y/n turns towards Spencer, he puts his hand on her check, Y/n leaning into his palm, turning her head slightly to press a small kiss into his palm, before walking away.

#spencer reid x singer!reader #spencer reid x famous!reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer #reid

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real-fire-emblem-takes · 2 months

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The FE fandom is unfairly criticized for their treatment of main women leads because not enough people factor in how sexist the writing is. Edelgard would get less hate if she was held more accountable. Micaiah would get less hate if she didn't get written out of the final part and awful blood-pact device. Celica and Erika would get less hate if the writers didn't hand them the idiot ball. Female leads are often awful units compared to male counterparts. The male leads always upstage the female ones or are written overall better bc they were unconcerned with making them a sellable waifu. There's definitely sexist people in the fandom, and male characters everywhere get cut more slack, and I'm not denying an element of sexism in all of this, but holding the writers accountable something that needs to get brought up more.

Im gonna discuss my opinions on this take now.

Edelgard is held accountable and punished for her actions by literally dying in 3 out of the 4 routes. Like the Agarthans are not blamed for what Edelgard did. She takes complete responsibility and suffers the consequences for starting a war.

Erika giving the Sacred Stone to Formortis because she believes Lyon, an extremely skilled healer and magic user who has been studying the stones will get rid of him through using it is a smarter decision than Ephraim attempting to kill THE DEMON KING ALL BY HIMSELF. Like at least Erika's plan made sense and could have worked if Lyon was able to resist Formortis. People who call Erika stupid for her scene while not doing the same for Ephraim's are hypocritical in this regard.

While SOV is quite sexist in how so many of the women are damseled, Celica sacrificing herself for Mila makes complete sense and is not rooted in sexism because at that point in the game most people believe that they still need the gods to survive and a single human life is worth less than the life of a god. Celica trusted Jedah because to her that was her only choice. What is sexist is her having to be repeatedly saved by men while nothing similar happens to Alm.

I admit I'm being extremely nitpicky with this point, but Erika and Celica both act completely in character when they make their mistakes and therefore are not Idiot Balled. Idiot Balling is when a character acts uncharacteristically stupid and out of character to serve the plot.

Idk about the specifics with Micaiah in Radiant Dawn but yeah it sucks how Ike takes most of the spotlight from both her and Elincia :/

The only female lead that is a substantially worse unit than her male counterpart is Erika. She is an outlier that should not be counted. Celica, Micaiah and Elincia all have utility that Alm and Ike Lack while Edelgard is literally just as good of a frontliner as Dimitri. And Lyn is just as weak as Eliwood.

Character writing is subjective.

You are severely overestimating the importance of waifus and underestimating the importance of husbandos to the franchise. Straight and Bi women play Fire Emblem too.

Also characters who have depth tend to be more popular regardless of their gender. It is profitable to have waifus with layers.

I am not denying that sexism was and somewhat still is a thing in the writing and gameplay of this series; However, the fandom is just as guilty in how female characters are treated - perhaps more guilty in the newest two games where these issues rarely rear their ugly head in the story and the gameplay. The fandom should be held accountable too instead shifting most of the blame on the writers.

Anyway if you read all of this, have a heavenly creature i found recently <3

#petty playground squabbles #fire emblem #fe #fandom takes #gameplay takes #story takes #sexism mention

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s-4pphics · 1 year

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its christmas morning! (e.w)

omg y’all it’s fucking 4/20 aka my thanksgiving christmas and valentine’s day😳

wanted to write for my fav pothead for my fav holiday :O ellie ripping bongs has been imprinted on my brain since that scene in the game yall know which one i’m talking about i don't even gotta say it🙄 i am very high rn so if there’s a typo or mistake no!! there’s!! not!! love y’all bye

wc;cw: 2.7k, oc n ellie r both in college, WEED!!! WEED WEED WEED!!!, 21 savage :p catch it, sexual tension y’all know how i get down, descriptions of sex MDNIIII, dubcon(they’re very high), ellie’s so cute but also a lil mean, hair pulling ;D

“c’moooon dude, just one hit!” ellie said with a wide grin while softly nudging your shoulder with hers, her packed and filled miniature glass bong and lighter sitting on the coffee table in front of the two of you.

ellie had sent you a text message after you got out of your last class saying it was her favorite fucking holiday so get ur ass over here! you knew she would hate it if you—her main smoking buddy—missed out on the new bud she got from someone on campus, so you packed an overnight bag with four of your own blunts that you rolled for her(you learned that tropical breeze was her favorite flavored wrap during one of your seshes!), and made your way over to her off-campus apartment complex. you knew there was no way you were going to be able to walk home tonight since you planned to get as fried as humanly possible.

you’d arrived inside her building and scaled the stairs to the third floor before you banged on her door. fuck, you were winded! what’s up with the elevators not working—

a muffled what’s the password?! had come from the other side of the door as you gasped for air.

“stop playing games, i’m tired!”

you’d heard her laugh as the door swung open, revealing an already high, smiling ellie: you were immediately hit with the smell of the weed she’d apparently already smoked. she looked so cozy, her black hoodie and gray sweatpants littered her body, her hair in a loose ponytail. you looked down at her giant frog slippers before she broke the silence between you two.

“it’s christmas morning! welcome to my trap house!” she’d excitedly squealed out, gesturing for you to come in.

she guided you to her and her roommate’s living room couch as she lit one of the blunts you rolled (and then another one) for you both to share. you felt relaxed after smoking them down, but you told her you needed more, and she was more than willing to give you that. she’d ran to her bedroom and grabbed her trusted friend, as she called the smoking utensil.

“i’ve never used one of those before.”

“…are you fuckin’ serious?” ellie asked with wide, red tinted eyes.

“um, yeah. why would i lie?” you asked blankly.

“that’s not what i meant, you smoke pretty often so i assumed. my bad.” she put her hands up in defense at your tone.

“you don’t need to apologize,” you said before pausing to look at the bong. it was pretty: it was clear, but there were hints of blue further down the base. it reminds you of the ocean. you stared at it before breaking the silence.

“what does it feel like?”

“what? hitting it?” she asked as she nodded towards the bong on the table.

you nodded at her, and she shrugged before sarcastically answering.

“it feels like you're smoking,” she said with dramatic jazz hands.

you pushed her as she laughed, “obviously, bitch! i mean when you're high. people always talk about it hitting way harder than any other pipe.”

“because it does! you choke hard as fuck if the rip is big but it feels good afterwards. you smoke, you know what i’m talking about. it’s… the peak is just more… intense with bongs? i guess, i don’t know. i can only take like…three or four good hits, not gonna lie.”

you nodded as you listened to her rambles. ellie’s tolerance was definitely higher than yours, but you could hang—which was one of the main reasons she liked to smoke with you. you always felt nervous to hit from a bong because of all of your friends' horror stories. you heard so many variations of how hard they greened out the first couple of times they did it, and though you’d never admit it to anyone, their experiences freaked you out. you always smoked weed to relax and sleep, not see god.

“…hm.”

“what?” ellie smirked at you when she heard your acknowledgement.

you were looking at the bong intensely as you imagined what your high would be like if you were to smoke out of one: you’d be so embarrassed if ellie was forced to talk you down from a bad trip because you didn’t know your limits. but the mention of its intensity intrigued you. how intense would it be? would you be able to move? think?

“you wanna hit it and see what happens?”

her quiet voice caught your attention. you looked to your right and… oh. she was really close to you. when did she get so close?

“…yeah.”

you were now sitting criss crossed on the couch as ellie faced you, packed, water-filled bong and lighter in hand.

“hitting is pretty easy, but your throat burns like crazy. this is my smallest one, but… yeah, it might choke you.”

“‘s fine.”

she hummed in acknowledgment before she said, “i’ll go first just so you can see.”

you nodded as you watched her put her lips at the opening of the tube. she lit her lighter and circled her flame around the bud-stocked bowl, igniting the flower as smoke slowly began to fill the base of the bong.

when she was satisfied with the rip, she detached the bowl from the stem and sucked in the smoke, exhaling a large cloud away from your face. she cleared her throat as she passed it to you, “see? easy.”

you took the bong and lighter from her hands and inspected it. you heard her snort from in front of you, meeting her eyes as you looked up. “it’s not gonna bite you, dude.”

“i fucking know that,” you said with a soft glare, making her laugh harder.

she reached over towards the coffee table and grabbed the small baggie of your rolled blunts. she took one out and grabbed another lighter out of her hoodie pocket, lighting the end and puffed on it to ignite the weed. she hadn’t noticed that you’d been watching her the whole time with an intense gaze.

she finally looked up at you and nodded at your occupied hands. “you gonna hit it?”

fuck. yeah, you were. you were. you nodded hard. she mumbled out a soft you don’t have to, but you shook your head at her, yes, you do!

you brought the opening towards your lips and looked at her for approval, earning a small nod as she exhaled her own smoke and smiling, “carry on, young pupil.”

you lightly kicked your knee against hers, earning a soft laugh. you took a deep breath before igniting the bowl and watched smoke fill the base. you weren’t sure how long you should wait before you took a rip, so you met her eyes again, awaiting instruction.

“you don’t need to smoke all of that. ‘s a lot.” she advised, slurring slightly, smoke pooling out of her nose as she spoke. you didn’t listen, though.

you removed the bowl as she did, and sucked in all of it. you breathed out and instantly started coughing up both of your lungs as she laughed, grabbing you a water from the table, opening it, and passing it to you. you dropped the lighter and exchanged the large pipe for the water in her hand. “fuckin’ idiot, i told you not to.”

you choked harder as tears flooded your eyes, but even in your time of weakness, you flipped her off. she giggled before pretending to bite it off.

as your coughing eased, you slowly sipped from your bottle and wiped the tears off your cheeks. “bro, what the fuck.” you said dryly, sipping more water.

she laughed hard at you as she lit and ripped from the bong again.

some time passed and you were starting to feel… something different as you came up. you knew you were going to peak soon, but the lift was coming in much harder. much faster. it was making you a bit antsy.

ellie must’ve noticed your unfocused looks around her living room because she aligned her eyes with yours and whispered out a hey.

“hi… i think i feel… feel it,” you whispered back, a slight shakiness to your voice.

“okay. want me to turn some music on?” and you nodded before she could even finish her gentle proposal. you watched her every move as she got up and swiftly made her way over to the kitchen, turning on her speaker. “what you wanna listen to?”

“g-glock in my lap.”

“everywhere i’m strapped,” she said as she mimed jerking off with her tongue out. she's so gross… why was it getting you hot?

she busted out laughing at her own joke before she played it, queueing her own list of songs before returning back to the couch to get in her previous position.

“what’s your craziest weed story?” you asked the minute she sat down, cutting mumbling of the lyrics off.

“craziest weed story?” she asked softly as she reignited her stubbed out blunt.

“bong story. craziest bong story,” you corrected yourself slurrily. oh, this shit was hitting.

she huffed out a laugh before talking. “…i don’t know if you wanna hear that right now.”

“why? was it that bad?”

“it was the exact opposite actually.” she corrected softly. had she leaned a bit closer to you? you couldn’t tell.

“one of the best highs of my life, to be honest. wish i could go back to that day and just to feel it again.”

“what happened?”

she was silent for a moment, looking into your eyes with an intense gaze.

“i… i met this girl on hinge— don’t fucking laugh!” she said as she smiled.

it made you laugh harder. “i’m not—i’m not trying to, i promise!”

she rolled her eyes as she continued. “anyway, we linked up after talking for a bit, and she told me she wanted to match. i drove hours to see her, she was so fuckin’ hot.”

you hummed as she continued, giggles completely forgotten as your vision tunneled in on her. “so, we meet and we go up to her room. i think… her roommate had company over or something, it was really noisy when i walked in. anyway, we spark up, we’re smoking, and she’s just like hit my bong with me!, and i said sure.”

you’d been watching her lips move the entire time she was talking. she’d been biting and licking them as she reminisced while hitting the blunt, and it was making your body hot.

“she hit it first and passed it to me, and i’m like… what the fuck do i do with this contraption? like, you have to understand that it wasn’t a bong like mine. it was wide and long as fuck and the rips were huge. anyway, she showed me but… she was so close to me. like this.”

she leaned closer to you, your noses almost touching. your breathing picked up. “she was just talking me through the first hit, light this, pull that, y’know.”

to be frank, you didn’t give a shit about this story at all, but you would listen to it over and over again if it meant she’d be this close to your face—

“and sex while high feels so fucking good—“

“huh?”

“what?”

“who had sex while high?”

“… me‘n my hinge date.”

she squinted her eyes at you before she grinned. “were you listening?”

“yup.”

“right.” she said as she cheesed.

there was silence as you both looked at each other, but she inched a little closer to you and whispered. “wanna know a secret?”

you nodded instantly. anything anything—

“she made me cum really hard after i hit her bong, like i went completely brain dead.”

and you sucked in a sharp breath at her little secret before saying, “i’m sure…”

“you’re sure?”

“yeah.”

she nodded at you, passing you the blunt she'd been nursing before she scooted back to reach for her bong and lighter off the table. she hit it again and you watched. you watched her so closely.

“what’d she do?” you asked as you took a bold hit before stubbing it out on the ashtray on the table.

“who? m’date?” she asked as she blew another cloud away from you.

you nodded much harder than you should’ve, but you were so curious.

she smiled at you before elaborating, “so… i hit it, i’m choking hard as fuck, but she’s handing me water and rubbing my back and all of that shit.”

“i finally calmed down, and we both laid down on her bed, we’re like… facing each other,” she explained, trying to demonstrate their movements through her occupied hands.

remember when you said you didn’t give a shit about this story? you did. you really did.

“she just starts… rubbing on my arm and stuff. like barely, but i feel it, and i start relaxing. like… it feels like i’m sinking into her bed. she starts telling me how cute i am and whatever and then… she just kisses me. it’s real cute at first,” she said with a gentle grin.

“but she… she grabs my hips and pulls me closer… i can’t even remember what happened but i end up on my back and she’s eating me out and fingering me,” she’d been looking off into the distance throughout the whole story, but reconnects her eyes with yours, and they slowly drift down to your lips and you want to kiss her so fucking bad—

“when i came, i kinda just… blacked out, i felt like my brain was gonna come out my ears…like, in a puddle or somethin’ crazy,” she had the audacity to giggle at her statement. she didn’t even care about how wet her story just made you, how rude!

“…but yeah,” she mumbled and nodded, suddenly averting her gaze from your mouth. she leaned towards the bong in her hand, lighting and ripping from it again.

instead of politely blowing the smoke away from your face like she’d been doing, she held eye contact and blew the cloud towards you, and you breathed it in like you wished to breathe her in. she reached to the side to place the pipe and lighter back on her table and looked down at your twitching hands before she asked, “you okay?”

you nodded slowly and dazed, slowly blinking at her, and she smirked as she leaned closer to you again. this was the closest she’s been to your face, and all you could do was study her. memorize every detail on her face. she's so, so pretty.

“ellie.”

“yeah?” she breathed out and you barely heard it.

“kiss me.” you replied just as quietly.

she licked her lips again as she looked down at yours. you were nearly panting like a dog and you could tell she was getting off to your desperation by the smirk on her face.

you leaned closer to her in attempts to close the distance, but ellie moved away before you could.

so you tried again.

and she moved away again. and then she leaned back onto her propped elbows, one of her knees bent up.

“c’mere.”

you moved before you could think, shifting onto your wobbly knees to crawl on top of her, your hands on either side of her head as she straightened her legs out so you could straddle her waist.

you felt her warm hands grab your hips to squeeze them. you placed your weight on both your elbows and leaned down so you could finally kiss her. you want a kiss! you want a kiss now!

your head was yanked back before you could connect your lips to hers, and you let out a shocked, wet gasp as you grinded down on her impulsively. you want more more more—

she snorted at your reaction before bringing her mouth up to your ear to whisper, “i want another hit.”

her hand loosened in your hair as you watched her laugh at you with her head thrown back, a shocked expression on your face. no way she just played you like that!

“fuck you,” you said with an embarrassed pout as you sat up and moved off her lap, sitting the farthest away from her as you could.

“i know you want to, hand me that lighter,” she said, nodding her head towards the table while giggling.

you grabbed and threw it at her chest, making her laugh louder.

hahaaaa i gotchu yall thought they were gonna fuck? SIKE but omg yall make sure to get high byeee

#ellie williams blurb #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #pothead!ellie #lesbian #modern!ellie williams #modern!eddie x reader #works 𖧧࣪

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dailydragons · 8 days

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I am not immune to this propaganda…

Do you like long fantasy series, but are tired of authors never finishing them?

Do you like interesting magic systems?

Do you like when characters form intense even psychic bonds with animal companions?

Do you like your heart getting ripped out of your chest and then stuffed back in full to bursting and but then ripped out again to get stomped on but it turns out you like that too uhhh let's call it... intense yearning

Do you like dragons? Of course you do, why else would you be on this blog!

WELL DO I HAVE THE BOOK SERIES FOR YOU!

The Realm of the Elderlings is a 16-book series is comprised of four trilogies and a quartet. All of which have been finished. Yes that's right, Robin Hobb saw other authors who can't seem to finish their multi-book fantasy epics and said "I will finish mine 4 different times to show you it's incredibly easy actually." She also has written multiple other series (some under the pen name Megan Lindholm), set in different universes.

So, where to start?

The components of RotE are:

The Farseer Trilogy

The Liveship Traders Trilogy

The Tawny Man Trilogy

The Rain Wild Chronicles

Fitz and the Fool Trilogy

The three bolded trilogies above are told from the perspective of FitzChivalry Farseer, one of the main/major characters in this universe and my eternal blorbo. The Liveship Traders trilogy and Rain Wild Chronicles are told from several points of view, and happen in chronological order between the series above and flesh out the worldbuilding, lore, history, etc.

For the most complete look at the universe, you can of course read everything. However if you want to stick with just one character, you can read the three bolded trilogies only. And of course, if you don't want to commit to a metric ton of words either way, you can just read the first trilogy and see what you think. Though I do think the levels of joy/pain/adoration increase with each work as you get more invested in the characters, of course.

OR. You can in fact read the Liveship Traders trilogy or the Rain Wild Chronicles quartet completely independently of the others. I actually started with Rain Wild Chronicles because those books have the highest concentration of dragons--it was actually a follower of this blog who recommended them to me, and I decided to jump into those rather than commit to The Whole Series (which at the time was only 13 books not 16). But I loved the writing style and wanted to learn more about the world, so got into the rest, and now I actually think the Rainwilds books are the weakest of the bunch (though I still enjoyed them initially)!

But You're Following This Blog, DailyDragons, So Here's The Part Of The Pitch You're Actually Invested In

Now I will be up front that you don't get many dragons in the first trilogy. There are a kind of dragons that appear at the end but dragons are not the main focus of this one. However Hobb learns from her mistakes about not including tons of dragons in her fantasy world and you get more in the next parts of the series.

The Liveship books deal with sea serpents and dragons in very interesting ways I don't want to spoil, though it's a slow build. But VERY fascinating reveals into the dragon's biology, life history, and magic.

The plot of the later half of the Tawny Man Trilogy revolves around dealing with how the world of this story used to have dragons but they have practically gone extinct. Less direct contact with dragons but still a dragon-centric last book.

Rainwilds is chock full of dragons. Including as POV characters. Can't complain about lack of dragons here at all.

Fitz & The Fool Trilogy is lighter on the dragons at first and then they show up en force at the end. Ta da!

anyway please read these books and join me in my eternal suffering. wait, suffering? nevermind who said that. shhh. it's fine. you will love fitzchivalry farseer. you will love the fool. you will never be the same again.

#realm of the elderlings #THANK U FOR GIVING ME A HANDY DANDY SOAPBOX #lise-thethinker #i am always ready to weep about these books publically #i have read the entire series uhhh. 3 times? and condensed version 4 times #since i first read them in 2015 #WHEW. yeah. god i love them #ramblings #not dragon art #i guess

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fangirltothefullest · 4 months

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Okay but now what if how you designed Remus but in as many words as you want, because I'm loving these design breakdowns

HELL YEAH!

Remus to me is full of chaos but he is also the antithesis of Roman with similar qualities but a total lack of self consciousness or bashfulness. He is freedom and he gives no shits.

Inspiration 1: Mad Madam Mim

I start with a disney character full of chaos and I am inspired by mad Madam Mim because she is wild and chaotic and i absolutely love how fun she is as a villain and the most important thing for me is that Remus is fun. He's bonkers and has terrible ideas but he's also harmless in terms of reality. He's like an annoying little brother that wants to show you the Weird Gunk he found in the trash.

Inspiration 2: Snidley Whiplash (or Dick Dastardly)

Remus to me is a guy who knows a lot of things and he's actually really clever but he wants to BE a villain like Snidley Whiplash or Dick Dastardly, including the moustache. He wants to tie people to train tracks because it's fun. His personality is "I found the dynamite and the roller skates! :D"

Inspiration 3: Wile E Coyote and looney tunes as a concept

If Remus is anything it's a creature that can be stabbed in the eye and come back fine. It's a person who can make acme-like contraptions that do not work and that's ok. He is, if nothing else, Wile E Coyote and he is having the time of his life. He should therefore have hair that is a littler wild and crazy and untamable like Wile E's tail.

Inspiration 3: Royal villains

We will look at Galavant and also OUaT again!

There's nothing quite as detailed in costume as evil royal villains. They always seem to be the most extravagant or at least have all the buckles and things and Remus has an outfit just the same. Like Roman I want his royalty to show with his clothes but unlike Roman I want Remus to look way less put together. More a culmination of his clothes he chooses to wear but only because he HAS to wear something so he's going to show skin.

Particularly though the one I associate with Remus is Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time.

Inspiration 4: Captain Hook / Pirate aesthetics

Roguish, half-opened shirt, details, dressed fancy, swashbuckling. Remus would make a great pirate because he has the swagger and charm of a drunken man sailing a boat with a pet giant octopus he calls Lil Pussy.

Speaking of octopus...

Inspiration 5: Kraken and hentai

He has an octopus on his belt and he deserves tentacles for a pirate feel but also for fuckin. Cause he's a raunchy bastard. Anything taboo is something he wants to think about.

Inspiration 6: Punk aesthetic

What easier way top buck against the norms than to embrace punk vibes? Jewelry, upside-down crosses, I don't like going overboard with it but I like giving him some. Fingerless gloves, chokers with spikes, those kinds of things work well for his "I am everything your religious grandmother hates, embrace it". His outfits that aren't standard could look like he made them himself or found them in the garbage and went "awesome!"

Inspiration 7: Weapon Master

Remus likes to hit things with his mace and while Roman has his sword, I imagine Remus is an expert at weapons or at least likes to use them so even if I am going to dress him up nice I want a weapon nearby somewhere.

Things that are a must:

So many details, Remus will not leave your eyeballs alone. If you think Roman has details nope, Remus wants your eyes to bleed with them.

Remus should have longer hair than Roman, wilder bangs and wilder curls. Shorter hair is fine but a ponytail is even more fun. Like the tie holding it'll break at any moment.

Weapons galore, arm this baby at every opportunity. Likewise, scars are acceptable but it's ok if they disappear at random because chaos loves chaos.

If Remus has his main garb off he should be showing skin to the best of his abilities and his collar should drape down wider than normal because let that man be a slut.

Tentacles should be numerous when shown and they should have a mind of their own doing whatever they want.

If Roman wouldn't wear it, Remus would. If Roman wouldn't think it, Remus would, and if Roman would be disgusted, Remus would love it.

Remus should have annoying little brother vibes.

Any non-standard outfits should look like he cobbled them together with duct tape and chewing gum.

So I came to this:

#tashiarts #sanders sides #inspiration for remus

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diegosouzalions · 6 months

Text

5 YEARS OF CONCEPT

These are the drafts of the pilot version of the three main Diamonds in the story, without these first concepts, the comic might not have the same current direction or even exist!

It all started when I was bored in a free class in 8th grade, I just created them for fun, I didn't intend to make a comic or anything like that, also the story I had created was something "private" and for the public it would just be gemsonas.

In the old version of the Color Diamond Authority, the Diamonds were divided because they did not agree with each other and thus, they would branch into 4 or 5 authorities: The Fruits, The Heavenly (Possibly Rainbow would be in that authority), The Colors and The Males.

Peach would be the leader of the Fruit Diamond Authority, Lime and Cherry would be its members. She would have a more boring and dry personality, she had no reason to be mean, differently than she has now. She would probably be a Rainbow fanatic in her early years and over time would lose interest in her creator. Rainbow had never appeared in form to the Diamonds, but she still communicated with them by voice through a shadow or dark cloud, and they would all know that they were created by her.

Hope would still continue in the original authority (which was later called the Heavenly Diamond Authority), along with Aqua, Sun and Moon. Her personality wouldn't change much, it would just be more expressive and cheerful. I confess that when I made her, I was in doubt about choosing the colors purple or white, until blue was the color chosen (and also because it was the same color as the original diamond). She would have no arms or legs or even hair, most of her body was made up of her aura, so she would have to feel hopeful all the time for her body to function.

Bi-Color would be leading the Colors Diamond Authority together with Gray. Her personality would be like Blue, only cheerful. Her first color version would only be 2, but then it went to 3 (with the colors pink, blue and purple), then it was changed again to pink, yellow and blue (which would represent the colors of the Great Diamond Authority). And to be honest, her first version always reminded me of Celia Mae from Monster Inc.

And finally Magenta, the first Diamond created that was later added to the Color Diamond Authority on January 1, 2019.

Magenta participated in the Spatial (or Spacial) Diamond Authority, however, after a conflict between me and the authority's creator, I decided to withdraw and create my own. (And I recommend not sharing the old comic, if you have seen it, cause there are Diamonds that are not mine, so it would be rude to use them on any occasion)

She would have a similar personality to White, but in a kinder way. She couldn't see imperfection in anything, she always saw things on the positive side, even if everything was going wrong. Unlike the current one, she would almost never feel sad, in addition to being more silly, and would ask a lot more questions.

As time went by she would become colder and would no longer be able to think about anything positive, she would see things more realistic and would become almost like an "antagonist" or an "anti hero" of the Rebel Gems, due to the traumatic moments she developed in the authority.

There are old script concepts that were used and will still be used in the comic. The current story has a direction almost similar to the old one in some points, but with drastic changes, it will be more explored and polished than before.

A curiosity is that Silver and Golden were only inserted later (I believe in March 2019), which added even more shine to the story, I don't know what the comic would be without them honestly. If the Peacocks and Magenta didn't exist, officially the Authority would split, just like the old concept, but it would be worked with the current Diamonds personalities.

#diegosouzalions2023 #steven universe #magenta diamond's origin #color authority diamond #comic #gemsona #peach diamond #hope diamond #bi-color diamond #magenta diamond #magenta pearl #au su #au #alternative universe #steven universe alternate universe #pilot #sketches

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acewritesfics · 7 days

Text

Say it | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: No

Warnings: An empty threat of no sex. Reader's sister has a name.

Word Count: 1,035

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Say it," Y/N commands her boyfriend.

Eddie firmly shakes his head, "No."

"Say it, Edward," she says again, adding the name he despises. He glares at her and settles onto their couch.

"No!" With a defiant look in his big beautiful brown eyes, he shakes his head and gestures his sentiment with his hands.

"You have to!" she exclaims, her voice rising slightly as their argument heats up.

"No, I don't!" he shouts at her, his voice rising a few notches like it does when he's annoyed, angry, or overwhelmed.

"You lost the bet, Edward Munson. It's time to pay up," she continues.

"You cheated," he claims.

"No, I didn't!" she protests.

"Yes, you did," he responds with an accusatory look on his face, his tongue jutting out of his mouth, licking his upper lip, and an arched eyebrow.

"How did I cheat?" she says, hands on her hips, looking down at him, waiting for his explanation of how she cheated on their bet.

Steve had visited Y/N two weeks prior to ask about her younger sister, Barbara-Ann (or Annie to most people). It's clear that the 19-year-old has formed a liking for the 18-year-old high school senior. Following numerous attempts to find love again, Y/N was unable to bring herself to break his heart or reveal her sister's secret.

However, that didn't stop Y/N and Eddie from making a bet amongst themselves. After all, Steve and Robin had a bet going to see how long it would take for Y/N and Eddie to get together. Steve had won that bet, with his bet being 4-6 weeks. If Y/N had waited two more days to make the first move, then Robin would have won.

Eddie was so sure that Steve could win over Barbara-Ann and had even gone out of his comfort zone to play wingman for Steve. Y/N believed that he wouldn't be able to, being the one who knows her sister better than they do. But as the days went by, it would be evident that his defeat was upon him.

"Because you've always known Barbara-Ann has a thing for Robin," he replies, surprising her enough to make her forget about the bet... temporarily.

"How did you know?" she wonders, her face filled with surprise and curiosity. Y/N was certain she was the only one Barbara-Ann had disclosed her preference for the same sex to.

"I know I'm not the smartest person, and I miss a lot of social cues and stuff, but it's not hard to miss the small glances, flirty smiles, and all the other shit that she gives Robin," he explains. "No offense to Barbara-Ann, but she is not as subtle as she thinks she is, and I'm quite sure Steve is the only one who is blind to it unless he's lying to himself."

"Steve can be a little dumb at times, but we still love him," she acknowledges, settling in beside him on the couch. "However, you still lost the bet, therefore you still need to say it."

"You cheated! Nobody wins and the bet is wiped. That is the rules," he disagrees with her.

"We didn't make any rules," she points out.

"Fuck," he groans as he realizes she's right. "I'm still not saying it."

"Fine, but no sex for a week," she adds non-chalantly. It's a hollow threat because she couldn't spend a week without sex with him either, and he knows that as soon as he touches her in an intimate way, she's putty in his hands. It's a useless threat, really.

"Baby, you know that I know that won't work," he smirks, moving his hand to her thigh and gently moving it upwards as his calloused fingers brush against her exposed delicate skin, igniting the desire between her legs.

She hesitates to grab his hand and pull it away from her thigh as he clearly makes his point, but eventually does so and stands up from the couch.

He raises an eyebrow at her and then follows her with his eyes to the wall-mounted phone. "What are you doing?"

"Calling Nancy to see if I can stay with her for the week," she says as she begins dialing the Wheeler's phone number. "I'm sure that I can come up with a plausible reason for why I need to stay with her."

Giving up, he stands up from the couch. Moving quickly to where she is standing, he takes the phone out of her hand and hangs it back up on the hook. He groans, "I'll say it."

She grins, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she looks at him expectantly, unfazed by the glare he's sending her.

He sighs and begins to quote what she had written down for him to say if he lost their bet, even though he hadn't lost due to a technicality. "I, Eddie," he pauses as she raises her brow at him. "I, Edward Munson," he corrects himself, continuing to glare at her. "Enjoy wearing Y/N's panties, especially the pink ones with the lace," he pauses again before speedily adding the last part. "They make me feel sexy and fierce."

Y/N finally lets out the laugh she has been struggling to contain.

"It makes me so happy that you find this so amusing," Eddie adds sarcastically, as he stands there with his hands on his hips, appearing to be unimpressed with his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, baby," She says, with a small pout, as she threads her arms through his and encircles his waist. "I'll make it up to you."

"Yeah?" he says. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll let you borrow my panties," she replies, trying to keep a straight face.

"How about no sex for a week?" he suggests, repeating the empty threat she used a few minutes earlier.

She gasps, appearing shocked and offended, before mirroring his previous remarks as she moves her hands up and under his shirt, her fingernails raking along his stomach. "Oh, baby, you know that I know that won't work."

"That's it," he continues to mutter to himself as he stoops down, picks her up, putting her over his shoulder.

"Eddie!" she squeals, giggling as he carries her into their bedroom.

#acewritesfics repost #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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eg4mccc · 1 year

Text

First Call, Sims 4 Infants Patch is Coming Soon!!

(graphic credit: Bonxie)

It's almost time, the Infants are Coming!! Before the patch on March 14 breaks mods and custom content in preparation for the March 16 Sims 4 Growing Together expansion pack, I thought I'd run through a few things you'll need to know about, ahead of time.

When you load up after the patch, Mods and CC are going to be disabled by EA. This is fine, we're expecting a lot of things to break, and this time, it most likely will include MCCC.

We on Deaderpool's Discord recommend taking all of your mods/cc OUT, not leaving them sitting "turned off" (disabled) in your Mods folder. There's no guarantee the game can't see them anyway, so for the cleanest test, we always say to move the files out into a folder on the Desktop. You need this "game only" benchmark to see how things are supposed to behave, or to see if what isn't working properly is a problem in the game code, itself.

Most of the time, we would actually recommend a "mc-vanilla" test, which means to ONLY leave MCCC in your mods folder... but in the case of a Big Patch, until Deaderpool has a chance to evaluate (and hotfix) MCCC for code changes that might cause the mod to give you unexpected issues in game, "true vanilla" (mod/cc free) would be where to start testing.

By the way, if you need help getting your files organized ahead of the patch, you can find a downloadable Mods folder template here, courtesy of Shino Nox.

Without benefit of MCCC's mc_lastexception.html error file to help dig for errors, once you have your game-only test run completed, the next thing to do would be a 50/50. Make a copy of your save file, to safeguard against accidentally saving while your mods and cc are not in the game. (Don't worry, if you DO happen to save your main file this way, just come right away and ask us on Discord how to recover from it.)

One tip we've learned over the years is that you might be able to rule out entire sections of files with two basic tests:

One test with all of your cc & no mods (except MCCC, as long as it's working properly)

One test with all of your script/game-changing mods, and none of your extra custom content. (You would need to keep all of a mod's pieces together, both ts4script and package files.)

If either test results in any kind of error, you'll need to drill down through those files with the 50/50 technique, to find what's broken.

Luth's forum posts and Scarlet's mod list are both excellent resources. You may notice I'm not linking to any specific forum post. The reason is, Luth/luthienrising starts new patch threads in the section I did link, as needed. You'll be able to spot it once she has created it.

Last month, our team on Discord celebrated our sixth anniversary of helping players. Don't panic once the patch is live, just swing by and see us for help. If you can't get in, because you've been banned for some reason, our appeal process is outlined here.

Most questions you might have are probably answered in the #server-info channel. PLEASE read it, before approaching us in support. It will make everything easier, for both of us.

Thanks for your time, and, good luck with the patch!!

#discord server #sims 4 #patch changes #support #troubleshooting

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cripple-culture-is · 11 months

Note

Sorry, but if you do not use a mobility aid, then you aren't physically disabled 🤷‍♀️ Only those with mobility aids can call themselves a cripple. I saw your main blog and that you are "physically disabled without mobility aids". That's not even possible. You can't be physically disabled and not require mobility aids.

And the fact that you believe you have the right to use the word cripple rubs me the wrong way. You have to look disabled in order to use that slur. Otherwise it's incredibly disrespectful.

If you can walk, you are not crippled. Crippled means to "cause (someone) to become unable to walk or move normally." If you can walk, you can move normally.

My first full on hate comment lol 🤣 I'm really moving up in the world.

But on a serious note, yes, you can be physically disabled and not require mobility aids. Physical disability isn't always stagnant. It isn't always as simple as someone who is paralyzed being a full time wheelchair user.

Since you used definitions, I'll use definitions. Physical disability is defined as "a limitation on a person's physical functioning, mobility, dexterity or stamina." Also, "any physical limitations or disabilities that inhibit the physical function of one or more limbs of a certain person."

I am physically disabled. I pretty much always have been. I have a mobility disability. I was diagnosed with juvenile idiopathic arthritis at 9 months old, an autoimmune disease. I did show symptoms at 4 months old at the latest though. Arthritis is actually the leading cause of disability and the most common disabling condition for U.S. adults.

I do not currently use mobility aids, no, but I am looking into getting a rollator for college. So I suppose that when I do get that aid, I will finally, in your eyes at least, be considered physically disabled.

However, I have reached a point in my life where I don't really care what people say about my disability. Whether you believe I'm physically disabled or not doesn't change the fact that I am physically disabled under U.S. law 🤣🤣

I got my permanent disability plates and placard when I was about 5 years old, though I probably could've gotten it before then.

I have always said that I have never used mobility aids. And while that's technically true, it's also not. I've never used traditional mobility aids regularly. I used a wheelchair in public once as a child, and I hated the pity looks adults would give me as I used to be more self-conscious.

However, I HAVE used untraditional mobility aids. While most people wouldn't consider them as such, I have used aids that have helped my mobility, mostly as a child, they just aren't stereotypical disability aids.

I was offered a wheelchair as a child, but due to the pity looks I got from adults, I turned it down. My parents worked around that hangup of mine by using things that I was confident enough to use for mobility as well as more acceptable to me.

My parents had bought this long stroller. When I got older, the typical strollers caused problems, in that I couldn't rest my legs on anything. So I had this stroller that had a leg rest that I could use to stretch my legs as keeping them bent for long periods of time physically hurts me.

I also sat in the baskets of shopping carts until I was in my mid-teens. My mother or father would put the cart with me in it and I'd sit in it as if I was merchandise just like everything else in the basket. This was all because I couldn't walk.

Though, what would happen when a stroller or shopping cart wasn't available? I would get a piggyback ride, mostly from my sister, though from my father as well. My mom did it only occasionally as she has joint issues just like I do.

Then, when I was a bit older, my parents bought me a red wagon. We would take it to amusement parks and carry some things in it. We'd use it for food and other stuff. But it's real purpose was to be there in case I got to a point where I couldn't walk anymore.

I have arthritis in every single joint in my body. From my jaw and neck, all the way to my toes. Hips, ribs, spine, you name it, I got it.

As for the use of the word 'cripple' it DOES apply to me. Cripple refers to anyone with a physical disability. And due to my disability, I do have lower body involvement. Hips, knees, ankles, toes, etc. All of it.

As for being able to "move normally", I actually don't completely. I appear like I do, but if you look at the structure of my legs and the way I walk, I do move differently than a lot of people. I find that I tend to limp often, even when I'm not in pain. And I am curious as to if that's because I got so used to limping as a child due to pain that my walking pattern just adopted that, leading me to limp when I'm not in pain. I also sometimes walk as if I'm waddling.

Plus, if you notice, my right knee is actually slightly turned in, which means that somehow, it's out of alignment. Knees are supposed to point forward. My dad's point forward, my sister's point forward, my mom's mostly point forward. Both of mine do not, even though both of my ankles are straight. My left one is pretty straight, straight enough for me to not really notice it. But my right is a separate story.

Because my right knee is pointed slightly inward, I tend to walk with my right foot slightly turned out.

I'm not sure if the alignment is a knee issue, a hip issue, or potentially an ankle issue. This wasn't an issue that was ever pointed out by my doctors as a child, cause my knees have been like this for a while. I did have a lot of knee inflammation as a kid.

But back fully on topic, cripple punk isn't contingent on the use of mobility aids. Plus the assumption that I have to "look disabled" in order to be physically disabled is very ableist and leads to those like me getting harassed when we use our handicapped parking permits. I'm invisibly physically disabled, I have always recognized that. But me having an invisible disability doesn't change the fact that I am physically disabled. And come this time next year, I will probably "look disabled". Not that I believe disability has a look. It doesn't. Believing disability has a look is ableist and perpetuates harmful stereotypes. I AM physically disabled. I AM crippled, mobility aid or no mobility aid.

You don't know my history, you don't know me. You don't know my day to day life.

In order for you to believe me, you'd likely have to see my diagnosis papers and the proof of my disability. But you are not entitled to that information. I don't have to show it to you, and I'm not going to.

#physical disability #cpunk #cripplepunk #cripple punk #crip punk #physically disabled #physical disabilities

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 6 months

Text

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 12

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

The smut has arrived. You've been warned.

Next chapter: 11/15

Word Count: 7.5K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

‘My Dude’s Pies’ stood out starkly in bright yellow letters on the front of the otherwise nondescript brick building. There was nothing particularly special about it from the outside. It didn’t stand out in any way. It looked like most of the other businesses along the main street in Hawkins. Nothing that would really catch your eye or bring you pause but the inside was an entirely different story.

Your eyes widened at the riot of color that greeted you as you and Eddie walked through the door. The walls were painted a neon green with a huge mural of a slice of pizza riding a wave decorating the largest wall. The other walls were filled with various artwork, all quirky and eclectic: a cow wearing sunglasses, a tiger in a garish purple velvet suit, a collection of paintings of trolls' toys with a rainbow of brightly colored hair. Multi-colored lights hung from the ceiling and snaked around the walls. The furniture was a mish mosh of neon colors, your eyes assaulted with glaring shades of hot pink, flaming red, electric blue, and florescent yellow. The floor was white tile, blocks of the same brilliant shades sprinkled throughout.

“My dudes!”

You looked up to find Argyle coming through the swinging doors from the kitchen, his arms raised over his head in greeting. Of course. How had you forgotten that Argyle owned the pizza place in town? The decor here perfectly matched the loud fashion choices of the man currently walking toward you, pulling you into a bone-crushing bear hug.

“Hi Argyle,” you gasped, your chest constricted with the force of the friendly embrace.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, friends?” he inquired. “You two craving one of my tasty pies?”

“I was just hungry, man. The lady said she wanted pizza, so here we are,” Eddie answered.

“Wait…” Argyle stepped back, his fingers pointing between the two of you, dancing just like his eyes, a grin stretching his mouth wide. “Oh! Oh! Are you two dating now? Is this a thing? It looks like a thing. How did I not know about this?”

“No. Absolutely not a thing. This is definitely not a date,” Eddie protested, his hands waving in front of him as if that were the most offensive thing he’d ever heard. “I’m just helping her out with a car. We ran to the junkyard for parts and I was hungry so I mentioned grabbing something to eat and she picked pizza. Just trying to be nice, man. Something new for me.”

“I see,” Argyle nodded. “Also getting real tired of the ladies chewing your ear off about chasing their new friend away, huh? And the car worked out! That’s rad. You know, Jonathan has some really good ideas sometimes. When he said you should get her your uncle’s car, I thought that was bogus because you two can’t stand each other. But look, here you stand in my restaurant ready to chow down together. So, it all worked out, right?”

Annoyance rippled along your spine, your ears buzzing as you silently seethed at his words. So, you’d been right all along. Eddie didn’t want to hang out with you. He hadn’t found you a car and offered to work on it out of the goodness of his heart. His friends had put him up to all of this because they wanted you to get along. Anger bubbled within you until it was boiling over, spilling out, completely out of your control anymore.

“Yeah, it all worked out. What a stand up guy to do exactly what his friends told him to do even though it’s awful for him, being forced to spend time with me. And us dating? Can you imagine?” you snorted obnoxiously, knowing you were being immature but not caring. “What a ridiculous idea. Like he would ever want to date some mainstream Prom Queen like me. He’s far too edgy for me. I’m too boring and normal. Actually stuck-up bitch is how I believe he put it if I’m remembering correctly. That would definitely go against his own personal motto of keeping that hardcore metal asshole image.”

Both men’s jaws dropped, eyes wide as you shoved past them and made your way to the front counter to order your food. At this point, you just wanted to eat and go home. Just as you were beginning to feel like you were becoming the person you hoped to be, someone strong and smart who would never let anyone else treat you like garbage, Eddie managed to make you feel like an idiot all over again.

Because wasn’t that what an idiot would do? Close their eyes and pretend they couldn’t see what was happening right in front of their face? Just like you did for a year, hell, for your entire marriage. Ignorantly ignoring all the signs, choosing to stay in your safe cocoon of ignorance over facing the glaring problem in the room that would implode your life. No, you didn’t know Cam was sleeping with your best friend but as you looked back, all the signs were there. The two of you had not been a happy couple for a long time. And now Eddie was just another problem you were trying to ignore, continually hoping for something that wasn’t there, pretending everything was fine when it was anything but.

“Hey, what can I get you?” asked the perky teen girl with a beaming smile that was manning the cash register.

Your eyes scanned over the menu, remembering how yummy that pineapple pizza had been the other night. “I’m going to get the Pineapple Express.”

“For here or would you like it in a box to go?”

“You know what? Can I get it to go please?”

There. You could get your pizza and then he could take you home. Eddie could just go sit in his house and eat his pizza all alone since being with you was clearly a chore for him, something he was only doing to play nice, to keep his friends from being mad at him. You would enjoy your pizza and maybe dive back into your book that you needed to finish before it was due back at the library.

You stepped down to the end of the counter to wait on your pizza just as Eddie stepped up, ordering a ‘Slice to Meat you.’ Your eyes flicked up to the menu, noticing it was basically a four meat pizza with bacon, sausage, pepperoni, and ground beef. When the girl asked him whether he wanted it here or to go, he answered that it was for here.

“He meant to go,” you called out to the girl.

You could feel Eddie’s eyes boring into you as he protested, “Actually, I want mine for here.”

“Well, I got mine to go so you may as well get yours to go too. Wouldn’t want to force my company on you any longer than necessary,” you muttered, folding your arms, eyes trained on the kitchen, refusing to look at him.

“Both of our orders are for here,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

A hand wrapped around your bicep in a vice grip, not enough to hurt but firm enough to get your attention. Eddie pulled you away from the counter and over into the corner of the restaurant, your bodies shadowed from the rest of the customers, the lighting dim. Your back pressed up against the wall, his body so close you could feel the annoyance radiating off of him.

“Alright, what the hell is your problem now? I asked you out to dinner. I didn’t ask if you wanted to grab food and go. I assumed that meant we were eating it here, together,” he snarled, keeping his voice low in an effort to not draw attention.

“You are my problem. You’ve been my problem ever since I first laid eyes on you and I just want to take my pizza home.”

“Jesus Christ, you bitch about me but are you aware of how unbelievably frustrating you are? You want to talk about mood swings? You went from pleasant to nasty in a matter of seconds,” hissed Eddie. “What the hell was that about, huh? I thought we were past all that. I thought we were trying to be nice to each other. I fucking apologized, using the actual words because you insisted, for what I said to you. I brought you food. We sat and watched a movie. We hung out today. I thought we were cool so why did you have to throw that back in my face again?”

You opened your mouth to argue with him but quickly snapped it shut again. What could you possibly say to explain the way you’d acted without telling him the very thing you never wanted to utter aloud? I threw it back in your face because I like you but it’s pretty obvious you don’t like me and that made me act like a five year old who wasn’t getting their way?

No, you absolutely could not say that. Nor could you explain how he kept sending signals that made you think maybe he was interested and then just as fast shut you down. If you said that, you were openly admitting that you were hoping for something to happen here and that was the most mortifying thing you could think of. He would reject you, right here, in front of Argyle and word would quickly spread among the group and you’d never be able to show your face around them again. Hell, you wouldn’t be able to show your face in Hawkins. In a town this small, everybody would know before you walked into work on Monday.

“You’re right,” you admitted, gritting your teeth as you did so, the words painful to even speak because he wasn’t right but you couldn’t tell him why. “I did forgive you. We’re past it. Just forget it, okay? It’s fine. We can eat our pizza here.”

“Pineapple Express for Y/N!”

You pushed past him in a huff, grabbing the box from the young guy, forcing a smile and thanking him. You dropped down hard into a chair at the nearest table, opening the box. The pizza smelled amazing but your stomach was so twisted up with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t that you weren't sure you could eat it even if you wanted to.

Eddie sat down across from you, his own pizza on a silver tray. He grabbed a slice, taking a large bite and then sat back, spreading his legs wide. His eyes assessed you as he chewed slowly, as if he were a doctor and you were exhibiting the most unusual symptoms, his brain struggling to come up with a diagnosis. Well, that was fine. You certainly weren't helping him fill in the missing information.

“So…we’re fine?” he questioned.

“Yeah. I said we were, didn’t I?”

“I know what you said but based on your body language and the way you’re staring daggers at me right now, I am getting the distinct impression that it’s not actually fine,” he grumbled, dropping his pizza back on the tray. His body leaned forward, elbows resting on the edge of the table. “So, you want to tell me what’s really going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. Seriously. It’s fine. Just drop it.”

“Look sweetheart…”

“I’m not your sweetheart.”

Eddie’s head ricocheted backward, “Okay. Fine. I’m just a little confused here. I thought we were doing okay. We had a nice night last night, a good day today, so what changed?”

“Nothing. Nothing changed so you don’t have to worry. You’re doing your job. You’ve been nice to me. You pitied me and helped with my car. You even took me to dinner and hung out with me and now your friends will be happy with you because you can say we’re getting along. So, we’re good. You did good, alright?”

“I pitied you? You think I asked you to grab something to eat because I pity you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe or maybe not but you definitely asked me to dinner and are fixing my car and hanging out with me to make sure your friends don’t yell at you for being rude. Argyle made that pretty clear. So glad that Jonathan was able to come up with a solution for me since I’m such a problem for you. I’m just telling you, mission accomplished. If they ask, I will let them know what a nice guy you’ve been. So, you can stop doing things you obviously don’t want to do.”

“I didn’t ask you to get food with me for my friends. I also didn’t offer to fix your car for them. Yeah, it was Jonathan’s idea that I show you my uncle’s car but I chose to offer to fix it. They are very well aware of what an asshole I can be and they’ve stuck around for over ten years. I’m not worried about them being pissed at me and I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, darling.”

“Fine,” you huffed, folding your arms over your chest, eyes challenging him. “If not for them, then explain to me why we’re sitting in this pizza place.”

“Did you ever consider the possibility that maybe I liked hanging out with you?”

“No! Why would I?”

“Jesus H. Christ, woman, you can be so damn stubborn,” Eddie growled, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “Is it really so hard to believe that I can be a nice guy? That maybe, just maybe, I just want to try to be your friend?”

“Yes, it is when you say shit like you were hungry so you figured you’d try out being nice and invite me along. That doesn’t sound like you wanted to share a meal with me. It sounds like you felt like you should and I don’t need to be anyone’s charity case.”

“Do I seem like the type of guy who would take on a charity case out of the goodness of my heart?” he demanded.

“Yeah, actually you do,” you shot back. “I know all about your little DnD club, Hellfire, right? I know how you took in Dustin, Lucas, and Mike because you noticed they weren’t fitting in, sitting all alone. I think it’s admirable, really, but I am not some freshman in high school who’s being isolated from the group. I can take care of myself. I’m not one of your sheep and I sure as hell don’t need a shepherd.”

His eyes widened, head tilting, “Who told you about Hellfire?”

“Jonathan,” you answered shortly, realizing just a bit too late that you may have divulged more than you should have.

“And how exactly did that topic come up?”

“We were just talking about the group, about how everyone met. He told me Dustin practically worships the ground you walk on, how you took the boys under your wing their freshman year, and gave them a safe space.”

“Oh he did?”

“He did,” you mumbled.

It was only a half lie. That had been what Jonathan said but it hadn’t exactly come up as organically as all that. But you couldn’t tell him the real reason. He pissed you off and drove you nuts but you didn’t want to hurt him. Telling him about Lance, about what he’d said, would only cause him more pain and no matter how much he upset you, you couldn’t bring yourself to do that.

“Someone should tell him to keep his big mouth shut about my business,” grumbled Eddie.

“Why? Because someone might actually mistake you for a good guy,” you teased, a small smile breaking through your previous annoyance. “Can’t have that, right?”

“Letting those little shrimps into my high school club does not make me a good guy. Most people in this town would tell you it made me the bad guy, actually. Welcoming them into my club for losers and freaks, painting a bullseye on their backs for four years of torment.”

“I disagree. Those kids were going to be targets whether they joined your club or not. Besides, most seniors would not take the time to acknowledge some lowly freshmen, let alone go out of their way to make sure they felt like they had somewhere to belong. I think it speaks to who you really are, the person you try to hide behind all the surliness and unpleasantness.”

“Oh yeah? Weren’t you the one who just moments ago didn’t even want to share pizza with me and now you’re certain I’m really a good guy?”

“I never thought you weren’t a good guy. I just know there’s something that’s caused you to bury him down deep, something that hurt you. I can see it all the time. It’s in your eyes, in the way you shut down, in the way you mask any possible emotion with anger because that’s the easiest one to handle. You don’t want to be vulnerable with anyone because you don’t want to risk it.”

“You don’t know anything about it,” Eddie grumbled, head dropping, that mass of hair veiling his face as if he were trying to hide from you. As if he were trying to keep you from seeing the truth and really, wasn’t that what he’d been doing from the first moment you met?

“You’re right. I don’t, but I get the distinct impression that you think you’re all alone but you’re not. You have a mess of people who genuinely seem to truly care about you, who seem willing to do anything for you if you’d only let them in.”

“Do I?” he questioned, leaning back in his seat again, lean arms crossing over the top of his shirt. “And do you count yourself among one of those people, sweetheart?”

“I would like to be,” you admitted, your stomach twisting at the honesty of your words, at the vulnerable state you were putting yourself in by telling him the truth. “If you’d let me. I mean, you know, be a friend to you.” You added that quickly, not wanting to send this conversation veering off course or send him shutting down, thinking you meant something he very obviously didn’t want.

“Well, after two meals together, I think we can safely say we’re friends,” he replied softly, those plush lips pursing together as the corner of his mouth, a dimple appearing on the same side.

“Good,” you smiled, grabbing your pizza, hunger returning with the very large step you’d both just taken.

Friends. You could do that for him. You could be his friend. You would push your attraction down, somewhere deep where it couldn’t reach the light of day, and learn to be okay with this because it was all that he wanted from you. You couldn’t be angry with him because he wasn’t attracted to you. You couldn’t control attraction. So if friends was all he wanted, then you would be his friend.

___________________________________________________________

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously as Eddie got out of his van after you.

You were sitting in front of your house and you’d assumed he was simply dropping you off. You’d both managed civil, polite conversation while you’d enjoyed the rest of your pizza. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He hadn’t suddenly divulged the deep dark secret that you knew was buried in there but it had still been nice. You’d actually talked for an hour without arguing once.

You had enjoyed the way his face softened, his eyes warmed, as he talked about his uncle. The man clearly meant everything to him. He hadn’t told you what you already knew about his parents. He clearly didn’t trust you enough yet and you weren't going to bring up his ugly past but he had told a few stories about growing up with his mom’s brother.

You’d particularly enjoyed the story about Wayne dressing up as Santa Claus after an eleven year old Eddie insisted he wasn’t real. He’d loudly brought in the presents, banging around on purpose to wake the kid so he would catch sight of him. Eddie had been shocked to his core, everything he thought he’d been certain of suddenly in question. He’d believed in Santa until he was fourteen after that, no matter what the other kids had to say on the matter. But he never told anyone he was real, that he’d seen him, not wanting to be mocked at school.

“I’m walking you to your door,” Eddie answered, that look on his face again, the one that said he thought you were dense, as if walking you to your door should have been obvious.

“Umm…ok,” you mumbled, the two of you walking side by side up your sidewalk.

Eddie’s hands were tucked into his pockets as he climbed the steps next to you. You stepped up to the door and reached into your purse for your keys before pausing and turning to face him.

“Thanks,” you said softly, “you know, for helping with the car and for dinner and everything. It was nice, you know, getting to hang out with you, feeling like you actually might not be completely repulsed by me.”

You laughed awkwardly, trying to play it off as a joke but it fell flat because you couldn’t really find it funny. Especially not right now, with the way Eddie was looking at you.

Eddie’s jaw lifted, his head tilting to the side, “Repulsed by you? That’s an interesting choice of words.”

You shrugged, pulling your lower lip between your teeth, “You certainly seemed to be.” You waved your hand in dismissal, trying to play it off. “Look, it doesn’t really matter anymore. We decided to move past all of that, right? My point was just that it was nice, feeling like I was your friend, that maybe you’re okay with me being around because I really like your friends and I would like to keep hanging out with everybody. I haven’t really…I mean, I’ve spent the last four months alone, basically. It’s nice to have people.”

“Sweetheart, I have never been repulsed by you,” Eddie stated, shaking his head, those brown eyes burning holes straight through you, your skin suddenly warm, uncomfortably warm as he stepped into you and you stepped back with nowhere to go, your back pressed against the door. “Not once. How in the hell could anyone be repulsed by you?”

Your breath caught, the ability to pull in air suddenly felt impossible as the back of his hand came up, brushing along your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact, the feel of his skin against yours filling you with an overwhelming need. You battled yourself, refusing to take the first step, not willing to open yourself up to his rejection, a concept that was so shockingly painful it caused an ache within your chest.

“I don’t understand,” you managed to choke out, head swimming, scared to allow yourself to read anything in his words, knowing you could be twisting them into what you wanted. And god, you wanted it so badly at this moment.

“The first moment I saw you, this face across those flames, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen,” Eddie rasped, his fingers moving over the back of your neck, fingers slipping into your hair. His nose was grazing, featherlight, across your forehead and your legs threatened to send you to the ground.

“I…Eddie…this is…I don’t understand what is happening. What the hell do you want from me?” you pleaded, hands pressed flat against the door in an effort to keep yourself stable because he was shaking your foundation to the core.

“Too much,” he whispered, words growled against your ear. “More than I should.”

His lips crashed into yours and it was indescribable: a meteor shower blazing across the sky, heat lightning setting your soul ablaze, a cyclone of desire that was destroying everything in its path. Every time you’d imagined this very moment, you’d been so wrong because your mind could never have come up with this. It was as if your soul recognized him and was pulling toward him like a magnet, desperate to connect with the piece it had been missing. He was leaving his name tattooed across your soul with a single kiss, marking you forever.

You finally allowed yourself to slide your hands into that hair, fingers tangling through luscious, thick waves. Eddie’s hands flattened against your door on either side of your head, his chest pressing against yours, pinning you between him and the wood. His tongue slid across your lips and you parted them eagerly, moaning as he licked and explored, leaving nothing untouched, completely consuming you, making you feel him everywhere at once.

It was a kiss that made you forget about every other kiss you had ever had. Cam who? No kiss with Cam had ever felt like this. It was a kiss like they show in movies and romance novels. It was a kiss that made you feel as if you were living in a dream because there was no way reality could feel this damn good. It was a tidal wave crashing against your shores, washing away any trace of anything that wasn’t him, his lips as they devoured you, his tongue slipping along your own.

“House,” he growled into your mouth, his voice deep and raspy, filled with the longing that you felt to the very tips of your fingers and toes.

“House…” you gasped. “Yeah…”

You turned, struggling with your key, your fingers trembling. It didn’t help when his hands slid around you, thumb running just under your shirt, rough and calloused against the skin of your stomach. His face nuzzled against your hair, tongue tracing the edge of your ear, and you fought like hell to find enough clarity to get the key in the door.

You’d barely pushed the door open before he was on you again, crushing you to him, his foot kicking the door shut roughly behind you. He walked forward, causing you to stumble back and then your back was pressed against the wall again. His nose ran along your cheek, across your jaw, down the side of your throat and you trembled at the simple contact as he breathed life back into you with his touch.

Then his lips joined in the fun and Jesus. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he explored the column of your throat and then his lips latched around the skin, suckling it into his mouth. You cried out, your hand grasping the back of his head, holding him against you, the sensations moving straight down between your legs, an ache that refused to be ignored pulsing insistently.

“You smell amazing,” he breathed, kisses pressed against your pulse point, tender skin sucked between his lips, teasing with his teeth. He was going to mark you. Your thirty year old self was going to be walking around with a hickey but you couldn’t find the will to care. “You are so goddamn beautiful. From the moment I saw you a few weeks ago, all I could think about was touching you, running my hands over every inch of your body, finding out just how good you taste.”

Holy fuck. A soft whimper fell from your lips, your skin trembling at his words. Was this really happening right now? All those times you’d imagined this, this exact moment, you’d never believed it would ever become a reality. Could it possibly be true? Had he been wanting you just like you’d been wanting him?

His hands pulled at your shirt, yanking it over the top of your head and tossing it. The frenzy of just mere seconds ago halted as he stood admiring every inch of you. Cam had never looked at you like that, like you were the most desirable woman he’d ever seen. Eddie’s eyes roamed over your chest, the black lacy bra that hid nothing, your nipples already hardened into peaks, pressing against the fabric as your chest heaved in anticipation.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he breathed, one hand coming to cup the mound of flesh now revealed to him, his thumb moving over your nipple as you gasped, biting on your bottom lip. “Your ex is a fucking idiot. You are so damn perfect.”

His lips fell to your chest, open mouthed kisses against the flesh that spilled from the top of the bra as his hands slipped around your back, working at the clasp. He released it quickly, expertly as if he’d done it a dozen times, discarding it to the floor. You arched toward him, your body aching for his hands, his mouth, anything. You had never been so turned on in your entire life.

You writhed as he worshiped your breasts, teeth and tongue and lips everywhere. Teasing, sucking, nibbling until you were panting, your hand buried in his thick locks, holding him against you. Your hips rocked forward, craving more, craving all of him, as if you were an addict and he was your drug, the only thing that could satisfy this burning need blazing within you. He pulled one nipple between his lips, sucking hard, so hard it hurt but it was the most blissful kind of pain, the kind that made you want to beg for more.

Eddie rose up straight, his lips finding yours once again, tongue exploring your mouth, massaging your own. You needed to see him, all of him. You grasped at his shirt and he pulled away just long enough to yank it over his head. As your eyes fell on his pale flesh, a canvas of battle wounds, a patchwork of scars just like the ones on his neck and arm, you gasped softly. It was like you were looking at a roadmap of his past, the pain he’d been through, proof of how strong he was to have survived whatever horrors he’d endured.

“Eddie,” you whispered, your fingers reaching out, tracing the deep, dark, and jagged lines along his abdomen.

At the feel of your touch, Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping him, as if he was starved for it. As if he hadn’t been touched in far too long. You felt him shiver, his heart beating fast and hard under your palm, his chest rising and falling rapidly. It filled you with a searing sadness, wondering how long it had been since someone had touched him with affection.

He grabbed your hand, bringing the pads of your fingers to his lips, kissing them gently. Then he bent down and grabbed his shirt, preparing to pull it back over his head and you reached for it, pulling it from his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry…I…I know it’s hideous,” he mumbled. “I can keep my shirt on so you don’t have to look at them.”

Your heart fractured, tiny jagged pieces crumbling into dust at his words, at the way his face crumpled, as his expectation of rejection. Had other women seen this and turned from him? Had someone actually asked him to keep his shirt on? You were filled with a strong desire to punch them in the face if they did.

“No,” you told him softly, tossing the shirt across the room. “You don’t have to hide from me.” You stepped into him, pressing your lips against the scar that was at his collarbone, relishing the sweet groan that fell from his lips. “This is a part of who you are, proof of how strong you are, and I don’t think you’re hideous, Eddie. I think you’re beautiful. You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Don’t ever cover yourself up because you’re absolutely perfect.”

Your lips moved, pressing against each and every scar, worshiping him just the way he had you. The soft sighs he made with each touch of your mouth filled you with warmth. You were overcome with a desire to take away this man’s pain, to show him just how beautiful he was, how his scars didn’t diminish him. They were a testament that he had fought and survived. What he’d fought you didn’t know but after seeing the evidence on his body, you couldn’t believe this was the work of a bunch of rabid raccoons.

You brought your face to his, kissing the scar along his jaw, your tongue moving along the raised and angry skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling gently and he groaned, cupping the back of your head and tipping it back. He smashed his lips to yours, urgent and needy.

“Eddie…” you whispered as his lips traveled again, exploring. They moved between your breasts, along your stomach before he dropped to his knees in front of you, undoing your shorts and pulling them, along with your panties, down your legs. You lifted each foot, allowing him to remove them completely.

His hand ran over your leg, down to your calf, gripping it and hooking it over his shoulder, opening you completely to him. You gazed down at him, biting your lip and he grinned, cocoa eyes now dark with lust before he pressed his face against your center, nuzzling his nose in, inhaling deeply. Your head hit the wall at the slightest contact.

“You don’t…I was going to…” you managed to squeak out, though you weren’t sure how as his lips traced over your calf and then the skin of your inner thigh.

“No. I’ve been dying to know what you taste like for days…” he growled softly, his teeth biting down into the supple flesh of your thigh, causing you to shriek as your head slammed back against the wall.

Your brain lost all ability to form a coherent thought as his tongue ran over your folds, spreading you open. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as they rocked toward him, moving as if they had a mind of their own, a mind that wanted to get as close to his mouth as it could.

“So fucking good, Prom Queen. So wet for me already,” he growled, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking on it like a hard lozenge to soothe a painful ache.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” you yelped, hands slamming against the wood of the door.

His tongue flicked, lips sucked, teeth raked until you were on the verge of tears, your orgasm already coiling like a snake ready to strike. Two thick fingers slipped through your slick, teasing at your opening, and then he pressed them into you, pumping them rhythmically, his tongue never letting up its attention on your clit.

He worked like a man on a mission, like he was starving and you were a buffet of delicacies spread out before him. Cam had always acted like doing down on you was a chore, something he was required to do so he could get what he wanted. Eddie acted like this was the main attraction, like your pleasure was the only thing that mattered, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Oh my god…” you keened, hands flat against the door, trying to keep yourself in an upright position as the muscles in your legs quivered, knees threatening to give out beneath you.

“Not a god sweetheart…just a freak. A freak who’s going to make you cum harder than you ever have,” he mused, burying his face, mouth wrapped around your clit as he shook his head back and forth, fingers curling within you, hitting a space Cam had certainly never found and you bit your lip so hard, you tasted blood.

Your entire body shook as the tsunami that was your orgasm crashed down over you. Your vision went white and you began to slide down the wall to the floor, your legs unable to support you anymore. Eddie caught you, arms around your legs, creeping upward as he stood. He kept a firm grip on you as he kissed you soft and deep.

“Holy shit,” you gasped through a haze of pleasure, your body jello that had been left out in the sun, oozing into all the cracks of the sidewalk, unable to form a substantial shape.

“That was so much better than I imagined,” Eddie whispered against the shell of your ear, strong arms locked around you. “Fuck, Prom Queen, the sounds you make…your ex ever make you feel that good?”

“I…he…huh…” you managed, your brain still completely checked out.

Eddie scooped you up easily, carrying you up the stairs bridal style. His lean body was deceiving as he held you as if you weighed nothing, kicking open the door to your room, laying you back on the bed. Your eyes followed him hungrily as he removed his pants and boxers, revealing even more of those angry scars over his legs. Fuck, it was like something had tried to consume him, biting off hunks of flesh anywhere and everywhere it could reach.

His hand felt in his back pocket, retrieving a foil wrapped condom and your eyes widened. Had he planned for this? Hoped for it? Why else would he just be carrying a condom with him when he knew he would be spending the day with you? He ripped open the foil with his teeth, rolling it down over his substantial girth. Your eyes watched him eagerly, your pussy already pulsing again, needy for him, wanting to know what he felt like inside of you.

His fists came down onto the end of the bed as he crawled his way up to you, surprising you when he turned you onto your side, spooning you from behind. He gripped his cock, rubbing it over your folds, through your wetness and you moaned, pressing your ass back against him, eager for him to fill you, to feel all of him. He used the tip to tease your clit, working you up until you were whimpering again, desperate for him. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he thrust up into you.

“Oh shit…” you groaned, eyes rolling back in your head as he hit the deepest spaces within you, his cock bottoming out with each roll of his hips. He was stretching you deliciously, his cock thicker than anything you were used to. “That’s so good.”

“Yeah? You like that?” Eddie breathed in your ear, one hand gripping your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, pulling you flush against him as he rocked himself in and out of you again and again.

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“You feel so goddamn good wrapped around me, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so damn wet,” grunted Eddie, his fingers walking from your hip to between your thighs, teasing your clit once again.

“Jesus…” you whimpered, rolling your hips against his hand, causing you to come back even deeper on his cock each time he rocked forward, both of you groaning at the new sensation.

“Keep doing that, Prom Queen. Fuck, feels so good,” he muttered, lips pressed against your shoulder.

You continued to rock your hips, panting, sweaty, your bodies slipping along each other. That snake coiled up again quickly and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer, not with his cock hitting all the right places and his fingers playing you like a fucking piano, hitting all the right notes every goddamn time.

“Eddie…I’m gonna…I’m so close…”

Eddie’s fingers gripped your chin, turning your face toward his, “That’s it, pretty girl. Cum for me. I want to see your face when I make you lose control.”

His words were like a force, snapping you like a rubber band. “Oh Eddie!” you screamed, white hot pleasure exploding from your center just as he grunted your name and rutted deep inside of you, his own orgasm taking control.

“Fuck,” he muttered, body quivering behind you. He slipped from inside you gently, pulling the condom off and tossing it in the trash can right next to the bed. Rolling onto his side, he propped himself up on his arm, smiling down at you, thumb running along your jaw. “So, what do you think? Can we manage to be friends?”

You laughed, the sound loud and explosive at the absurdity of his words, “I uh…I don’t usually do that with friends.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never had a friend that’s made me rock hard every time they walk by,” Eddie shrugged. “I mean, Harrington’s pretty but…”

You snorted, rolling into him, pressing your cheek against his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. You’d told yourself that a relationship was the last thing you needed. You’d convinced yourself that you just needed to find yourself but now, you were more than content to find yourself while being with Eddie. If something good came along, even when you weren’t planning on it, why would you risk throwing it away? What if no one ever made you feel like this again?

“I have not been this happy in over a year. The others are never going to believe this,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “They think we can’t stand each other. What are they going to do when they find out we’re…” You paused, not sure how to finish that sentence. “What are we? Is this…something?”

Eddie stilled next to you, clearing his throat. “We don’t really need to rush to name this anything yet or define it or…you know, announce it to anybody. I mean, who knows what’s gonna happen, right? No reason to jump the gun.”

A weight crushed your chest at his words, “So…was this just a one time thing?”

“That’s not what I said. I just don’t think we need to make some big declaration about it. Who knows what this is right now, right? I mean, we don’t even know what this is. No need to confuse everybody else.”

“Right…” you murmured, not wanting to put any pressure on him, to come across as pathetic, to admit how much you wanted this to be the start of something more.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Alright, sweetheart, this has been amazing and everything but I am going to grab my clothes and I’ll get out of your hair, okay?”

Eddie sat up, bursting your blissful bubble. What? You reached out for him, struggling to comprehend the sudden change of pace. How did you go from having sex to him ready to leave so quickly? Your hand wrapped around his forearm. He looked down at it and then back at you quizzically, one eyebrow lifted.

“What? What do you mean you’re leaving? I thought…I mean, I assumed after that…” you sighed, frustrated at being put in a vulnerable state where you were admitting how weak you really were, how needy you were for him to stay. “I thought you’d spend the night. We could watch a movie or something.” Sitting up, you pressed your lips against his bare shoulder, your arms coming around his waist. “Maybe do this again. I could even make you breakfast tomorrow.”

He looked away from you quickly, too quickly, and you felt your heart sinking. All the joy, the pleasure, the anticipation of things to come melted out of your body, dread taking over. He was regretting it. You’d allowed yourself to believe he wanted more and he was shutting down on you again, locking the door, leaving you out in the cold.

“Uh…as tempting as that sounds, I should really get home. I mean, I gotta get up early tomorrow and…”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday. The shop can’t possibly be open on Sunday.”

“No, but I told my uncle I’d help him with uhh…with this thing. I mean, something with his truck. And I live closer to him than you do. It just makes more sense to stay at my own place. Besides, I don’t want to wake you up early on a Sunday when you could sleep in.”

Panic inhabited every cell of your being, desperate to keep him there, fearing that if you let him walk out the door, all of this would have been for nothing. He would go back to being who he’d been the last few weeks. You would now be the idiot who slept with a guy who never planned on anything more than a one night stand.

“I’m sure your uncle would understand if you showed up a little later. You could always call him and…”

“No,” Eddie stated, his tone very clearly letting you know that the discussion was over. “Look, this was nice. It was great.” He rose from the bed, pulling his pants on. “But I don’t think we’re at the staying at each other’s places level yet, okay? We barely know each other.” Now his shirt was over his head, his hands checking his pockets for his wallet and keys. “I’ll call you.”

Bending down, he kissed the top of your head and then darted from the room as if he couldn’t get away from you fast enough. You pulled your knees into your chest, battling back the tears, the awful pain in your chest, the insistent voice telling you that you were a moron, a moron who’d let some guy use you all over again.

Chapter 13

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burntheedges-updates · 8 months

Text

over again, chapter 4: first date

Joel Miller x f!reader summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, angst, panic attack, dancing, pining, kissing, the smut has arrived, pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), light manhandling, grinding, spit kink, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v sex (w/ condom), mention of breasts/nipples, praise kink, if I missed anything please let me know! If you'd like to skip the smut, check on ao3 - I've got notes there about what to skip a/n: Welcome to chapter 4! A day early!! It’s time for these two to go on a first date… and another first date, 20 years before. And oh yeah, the smut is here. The country night club in this chapter is based on one I frequented in the south in the early 2000s (lol). music note: More songs are mentioned in this chapter! All songs mentioned in this fic are on the playlist, which is linked below. word count: 13.3k

series main post | series playlist | ao3 | ch 3 || ch 5

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Chapter 4: First Date

Jackson, Spring 2024

You have dinner with Joel and Ellie a few more times over the next few weeks. Sometimes just the three of you, and sometimes with Tommy and Maria as well.

(Maria has warmed up a bit to Joel, following his return with Ellie in tow. She’s blunt and opens up more easily to people that have the Joel stamp of approval, which is just Tommy, sort of Maria, and you – all of the adults in her would-be family that don’t know how to talk to each other quite yet.)

Joel manages to join you for lunch a few times as well, and he listens to your tales of the gardens and the stables with the same slightly incredulous air that Tommy still does – you, an indoor girl, enjoying working outdoors. Anyone who knew you Before would never believe it, but no one here except the Miller brothers knows enough about you to find it at all odd. He laughs almost as loud at your story about getting stuck in the manure as Tommy did witnessing it. Right in the middle of the dining hall.

You and Joel also spend a couple of afternoons listening to the songs on the CD with Ellie and telling her a bit about each one. She likes the faster songs, like “Arrasando” and “Fruta Fresca”, and the ones that make her laugh, like “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” and “Pickup Man.”

(You tell her the story of how a woman hit on Joel in the grocery store parking lot, leaning suggestively on his pickup truck, and how she quoted the song (you know, there’s something women like about a pickup man), and how you and Sarah never let him live it down, singing the song to him every chance you got, playing up different parts (I never knew you were a pickup man!). You even got him to sing along eventually. She laughs so hard at your reenactment of it all that she falls off the couch. She and Sarah would have gotten along like a house on fire, you think.)

She scoffs a little at the romantic songs like the teenager she is.

Listening to the songs is hard, and you notice that Joel skips a couple of them (you don’t blame him, and both of you avoid the other’s eyes when he does). But Ellie brings a brightness to every room she’s in. Even as she’s cursing up a storm about missing her favorite food in the dining hall one night because of family dinner - right up until Tommy walks in the door with a plate, just for her. You can feel something in yourself start to bloom again as you tell stories about Sarah and Joel from Before to this child who asks questions about unexpected things, like strobe lights in clubs and menus at fancy restaurants and piñatas at family parties. It lets you take a step back and try to see it all through her eyes, unfamiliar and new. It’s refreshing even when it hurts.

You think it’s having the same effect on Joel, but you haven’t talked about it. You can only see what he’s showing on his face and you think it mirrors what’s on yours. You haven’t talked more about your 20 years apart, other than some small details here and there. Ellie hasn’t asked again. You see him looking at you sometimes like he wants to ask, wants to reach out, but he always hesitates. Slow.

After a few weeks (almost a month since they’ve been back in Jackson) of getting more comfortable around each other, Tommy ramps up his campaign to get the two of you to join him at the bar one night. You’ve been there with Tommy a few times, of course, but you haven’t been one for lingering there since you’ve been in Jackson. You were on your own for so long that at first it was odd to be around so many people. You know Joel has been with Tommy a few times, but he didn’t stay long, either. Always wanting to be home for Ellie.

Eventually Tommy pesters you into agreeing by getting Maria to hang with Ellie for the night – as much as they haven’t quite bonded yet, Ellie is still curious and a bit excited at the prospect of a baby, and the plan is for her to help decorate the nursery. You saw the look on her face when Joel referred to the baby as her cousin, and you think Ellie herself can’t look straight on at the emotion that came over her in that moment. She’s still getting used to the whole family thing. You and Joel are too, but you’re easing back into something you had once and lost, which is different than discovering something you’ve never had at all.

The night of your outing you don’t let yourself dither by your closet. You allow yourself two options and once you decide you head downstairs to meet Joel and Tommy by the road. For a moment you marvel, again, at the novelty of doing something that used to be mundane – choosing your outfit for a night out.

Tommy looks like he used to at Christmas, so excited to drag you both out of the house. Joel looks just as handsome as always — shoulders broad in his flannel shirt — but he’s also side-eyeing his brother like he might want to put him in a headlock if he doesn’t stop spilling good cheer everywhere.

“Alright, Millers, let’s get this show on the road.” You tuck an arm through both of theirs, one on each side like you used to do when you went out dancing. For a moment the once-familiar feeling of being surrounded by your family like this takes your breath away. But the three of you easily fall into step as you head towards the only bar in town.

“You should bring your CD out sometime, get everyone to dance.” Tommy looks hopeful as he makes his request, glancing between you and Joel as you walk.

“Maybe. I don’t want to lose it, or break it.”

“I know, sunshine – we can be careful.”

You shrug, and ask what kind of music is going on tonight. Sometimes there’s live music, a few people in town who can play various instruments, but often it’s this old-as-dirt jukebox that sometimes needs coaxing to play more than a few chosen songs without going rogue and disregarding whatever you picked next. Sounds like tonight is a jukebox night.

The three of you arrive at the bar, and as Tommy moves to enter ahead of you, Joel lets his hand slide down to twine his fingers through yours. He squeezes your hand as the two of you step inside, reminding you of all the times he did that to reassure you Before, when you were still learning how to dance. It makes you smile.

Tommy waves you over to a table in the corner and heads to the bar to get drinks. You slide in beside Joel, feeling a bit awkward as you turn to him while you wait for Tommy to come back. “He’s just as smug as he was that first time you and I went line dancing with him.”

Joel huffs a laugh, looking uncomfortable in public in a way you’d never seen him Before. He keeps checking on the people in the bar, eyes never staying in one spot for long as he sweeps them over the room. As he turns back to you, he replies, “Tommy loves to make me uncomfortable.”

You tilt your head at him, considering. “I get now, I’m not totally comfortable here either, but then? You always seemed so confident when we went out dancing. Helped me shake off my nerves.”

“That was because of you, darlin’.” He leans closer. “It was impossible for me to feel uncomfortable with you on my arm. All I could see was you, anyway.” You duck your head a little to hide your reaction from the room, and he gives you that half smile that raises goosebumps down your arms, like it always did. “Before I met you he used to drag me out and I probably stuck out like a sore thumb, anxious and frowning in a corner by the bar.”

You laugh at the image, just as Tommy returns with your drinks. “What are you two laughing about over here, hmm?”

Your eyes meet Joel’s again, and he’s giving you a warning glance against Tommy’s teasing. “We’re just reminiscing about going out dancing.”

Tommy grins widely. “I’m telling you, we can have a dance night here. Just need the right music for it. The jukebox does alright, though there’s a lot of slower songs. It doesn't have the widest selection.”

“Neither do I, with just the one CD.”

Tommy shakes his head at your response. “Ah, but what a CD it is! I remember that mix. Sarah always had a way with a playlist.” You notice Joel shifting his weight at the mention of Sarah, but you decide not to draw attention to it.

“You just want me to embarrass myself with how little I remember.”

“Nope, not going to fall for a tall tale like that, sunshine. I heard from Ellie that you two still got it.” Tommy winks at you. You forgot what having a brother was like, with all the teasing, and you can’t help the swell of emotion in you as Tommy grins at you. You take a sip of your drink to cover it, and cough.

“What the hell is this?”

“What, you don’t like it? It’s the strongest thing we got.”

“Did someone make this in their bathtub? I thought we had whiskey in this town.” You hold up your glass to the light, eyeing the light brown liquid distrustfully.

Tommy smirks at you. “Sure we do, sunshine, but tonight’s for having fun.” You roll your eyes at him. Joel is hiding his face in his hand, but you know he’s just trying to hide how much he’s laughing at your back and forth.

“You, Tommy Miller, are trouble. Just as much now as you ever were then.” You point at him and go for a stern expression, but you miss by a mile when you start to laugh. He laughs, too, and Joel just shakes his head at the both of you.

“Aw come on, I’m an upstanding member of the community these days, you know? No one’s dragged me out of the drunk tank in Jackson.”

“Jackson doesn’t have a drunk tank, Tommy.”

“Semantics, sunshine.”

You and Tommy keep the show going through your first drink with only a little bit of input from Joel, but you can see him smiling and starting to enjoy himself. With the second drink comes the return of Tommy’s campaign for dancing.

“Look, I’ll go pick out a song from the jukebox, and I swear it’ll be a good one. See, there’s already a few people dancing.”

You look over, and sure enough, there are a few pairs sort of swaying in place by the jukebox. You turn back to Tommy with an unimpressed look on your face, but he grins unrepentantly. “You’ll just have to show them how it’s done, won’t you?”

He heads over to the jukebox anyway, so you turn to Joel. “What do you think? You up for it?” He looks around the room before his eyes return to yours.

“I’ve never turned down a chance to dance with you, darlin’, and I’m not about to start, even here.”

His words send heat rushing towards your face and you bite your lip to hide your reaction. He sees it anyway. “Smooth moves, Miller, as always.”

He shrugs. “With you, it’s always just been a matter of letting myself say what I want to say or what I’m feeling and somehow it works. I was never this smooth before you, so you should blame yourself, you know, you bring it out in me.” You shove his shoulder, laughing a little. “Or maybe it’s only meant to work on you.” He smiles a little when you roll your eyes, trying to hide the effect his words have on you. You wonder if the drink has opened him up a bit tonight, after your weeks of progress so slow you’ve almost been standing still. The thought makes you hesitate.

“Really, though, this is ok?”

He regards you for a moment, and his expression turns intent. He leans in to whisper in your ear, “it’s more than ok, darlin’. Let me show you.” You shiver all the way down your spine. You nod.

Tommy returns triumphant from the jukebox – he’s set the next two songs, but then can’t make any promises about what comes after. The first is playing now, a slow song that won’t really do, but it’s already almost over. Joel stands and extends his hand to you to guide you out of the booth and towards the small dance floor on the other side of the room near the jukebox.

Right as you get there the track changes, and you hear the familiar opening notes of “The Fireman.” You have to give it to Tommy – this is a good choice. Good for dancing, but not one that either you or Joel associate too many memories with. You take Joel’s right hand with your left as he places his left on your back.

“You ready?”

“Get on with it, cowboy.”

He smirks, and does just that. He doesn’t hesitate, just starts two-stepping across the small dance floor. It becomes clear pretty quickly that not only do the two of you remember the steps, you’re almost, if not just as good together now as you were then. He starts to get a little fancy with it and throws in some spins that lead you from one end of the dance floor to the other, followed by a pretzel. You find yourself laughing, exhilarated, and you see a similar expression on Joel’s face. He looks lighter, his shoulders a little taller. He brings you back to face him, doing some simple steps for a moment, and then gets a glint in his eye that you remember well.

“Joel–” is all you manage before he spins you out, pulls you back in, and you fall into his arms as he dips you, tipping you over his knee and off your feet, just for a moment. It’s not the fanciest move you’ve ever done with him, but it leaves you breathless, faces close together as he holds you there for a moment, smirking.

He sets you back upright, and slows it down a bit. You can’t drag your eyes away from his but neither of you say anything. It feels like you’ve created a bubble where it’s still 2002, and you and Joel are tearing across the dance floor in one of the clubs in Austin, like no time has passed. You even heard Tommy whistle over the music when Joel spun you off your feet. Just like old times.

As you let your body take over, you start to feel a tingling sensation that travels from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head. You’re getting overwhelmed, and your body knows what to do, but your mind is checking out. It’s like you're experiencing two things at once – your memories, and what’s happening now. You realize that you and Joel are still moving, but both of your expressions have gone still and unreadable. When the music stops, so do you, and for a moment, neither of you move from your embrace.

Suddenly you notice that your heart is racing. You’re sweating and you’re out of breath. When did that happen? Joel’s chest is heaving, too. Distantly you remember Tommy saying he had no idea what song would come next and you wonder if you should move aside.

Before you can move even a finger, you hear the jukebox switching tracks, and you see the next song slam into Joel like a freight train. The first notes are barely over and he’s already pulled away from you, turning sharply and heading for the door so fast you realize your hands are still hanging in the air where he left them as the door to the bar closes behind him. You let them drop and start to move, you’re not sure where to, when you feel Tommy come up next to you.

“Hey, sunshine, you alright?” HIs hand comes up to support your elbow as he moves in front of you and blocks the room’s view. You want to respond, but all you can hear is Lonestar singing about being in love, and all you can see is the Millers’ backyard in 2002. You feel the ghost of Joel’s hands on you and you swear you can hear him singing “Amazed” to you as you sway in place. You remember choosing this song for your first dance at your wedding. You blink your eyes, dazed.

You fist your hand in Tommy’s shirt, shaking him a little. “I need… outside. I need to go outside. Tommy, take me outside.” He’s already leading you to the door before you finish speaking.

Outside, you turn sharply to the right, planning to prop yourself up against the outside wall of the bar and remember how to breathe, but you find that apparently Joel had the same thought. He’s got one hand on his chest and the other in a death grip on the frame of one of the windows. He’s gasping for breath. You and Tommy call out at the same time, but you don’t think he hears you.

Tommy starts to move towards him, but you elbow him away and slide between Joel and the wall, putting your right hand to his chest and moving his right hand from his chest to yours. “Joel, look at me.” He sucks in a breath and does, clutching at your shirt where you put his hand. “Breathe with me, ok, baby?” He doesn’t respond, but the two of you lock eyes and you start to breathe together. You can see Tommy out of the corner of your eye – he’s turned his back to the two of you, ushering people on as they pass by.

You breathe together for a little while and eventually, Joel’s breaths come more easily, as do yours. You feel his hand relax and yours does the same where you’re clutching his right arm, holding him in place. Both of you are shaking. He tries to speak, clears his throat, and tries again.

“I can’t…” You shake your head sharply, afraid to let him finish that sentence. He moves his hand from the window frame to your cheek in response and smooths his thumb across your cheekbone. It settles you.

“Let me try that again. I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t know if I can be that man anymore.”

You’re confused. “Joel, what man?”

“I’m not…” he takes a deep breath. “I’m a mess. I know I said slow, and we are moving slow, but I can’t see my way to our destination. I’m not the man I was Before and I don’t know if I can be him again.” He looks at you, eyes wide and afraid, and suddenly you’re angry. The words that have been caught in your throat for a month finally spill out.

“Joel, I’m not who I was Before, either. We’ve talked about it a little, but there’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. Who I became and what I did. You don’t have a monopoly on the pain of the last 20 years, alright?” He opens his mouth, but you shake your head and tighten your grip on his right arm. “No. We need to talk, and we need to learn about each other. But the truth of you is still there.” You flatten your hand over his heart. “I can see you in there, Joel Miller. I can see you in how you parent Ellie and how you talk to Tommy and how you look at me. I can see the way you take care of us and the way you’ve started to step up to help the people here.” You grip his shirt and shake him a little, doing everything you can to keep eye contact. “It’s scary, sure, I’m terrified. But I’m not giving this up before it even starts because it’s hard, or because sometimes the memories will overwhelm us. I already lived 20 hard years without you and I’m not doing it again. Not when that’s not what either of us really want.”

Joel looks like you cracked open his chest, actually gripping his heart in your hand instead of his flannel shirt, his expression wild.

“All I’m asking, baby, is that you try. I can do one step forward, two steps back. As long as we keep going forward, it doesn’t matter how much we backtrack on our way.” He doesn’t respond right away – he looks over your face, and down to his hand on your chest and back up to meet your eyes. You can see tears glistening on his eyelashes.

“Alright, darlin’. You don’t have to convince me to go after what I want. I’ve just been afraid to let myself have it. I don’t… I don’t want you to discover I’ve become someone you can’t abide.”

You bring both hands up to cup his face. “Joel, I’m afraid of the same thing. But I want to figure it out together, not apart.” He nods, and turns his face into your right hand, taking a deep breath. You feel him kiss your palm, lightly, and you shiver. “We can still take the long way. I just want you to walk it with me.”

You feel the adrenalin of the last fifteen minutes start to leave you and suddenly you’re a bit unsteady on your feet. He holds you up, moving his hands to your waist.

“Are you alright, darlin’? Let’s sit down.” You shake your head.

“I think I’d like to head home.”

“Let me take you home, then.”

You both turn to find Tommy has moved a bit further away, but he’s still guarding you both from the foot traffic at the door. He looks over when you look at him, and smiles a little ruefully. “I’m sorry about that, y’all.”

“Nothing to apologize for, Tommy.”

“I can get that song off the jukebox–”

Joel interrupts him, firmly. “No, leave it. I might…” he sighs. “We might want to hear it. Later.” You smile at him a little as he tucks your right arm through his left.

You say goodnight to Tommy and start to head home. The streets of Jackson are dark and quiet. You’re both quiet, too, letting the intense moment you just had settle as you lean on each other for support. Soon enough your houses come into view, and Joel walks all the way to your front door before he stops and turns to you and says your name softly.

“I have to thank you. You always know what to say to get me out of my head.”

“You always did the same thing for me, you know? We were good together for a reason.”

He smiles, and nods. “I know it.”

You reach out to pull him in for a hug, and you both squeeze a bit tighter than you have so far, since your reunion. You feel his left hand cup the back of your neck as the right slides down your back and pulls you closer. You’ve been through an emotional wringer in the last half hour, but you still feel your body start to respond to this man. Like it always has.

You turn your head so you can speak quietly into his left ear. “I enjoyed our dance, you know? Before all that.” His hand takes a firm grip on the back of your neck and you shiver.

“Oh, I know you did. I could tell.”

You laugh, and smack him lightly on the shoulder. “Oh yeah? Well you were enjoying it too, I could see it.”

“Never said I wasn’t. Never could take my eyes off you on the dance floor.” He pulls back a bit, and you meet his eyes. Gone, for the moment, is the worry from before – what you see in his gaze makes your breath catch in your throat. He smirks at you and runs his thumb up the side of your neck.

“Can I kiss you goodnight, pretty girl?” As he says it he tilts your head up towards his. Joel has always called you darlin’, from the very first time you met, and you love it. But there were some pet names he only used at certain times and, well. Pretty girl has the same effect on you now as it did then. Between that and his hand on your neck you swear your feet float off the ground.

You’re breathless, but you manage an actual response. “I thought you’d never ask, cowboy.” He huffs a laugh at that, and then pulls you in close.

You’ve kissed Joel Miller countless times. He kissed you for the first time in his backyard in Austin in 2001 and after that you can’t even recall every time or place you kissed this man, there were so many. You wouldn’t say you got used to it, but you did come to expect it – Joel Miller, available and ready to be kissed by you, whenever you’d like. You knew him inside and out and you’d kissed him everywhere and every way you could imagine, back then.

But everything about this kiss is new.

Joel softly presses his lips to yours, tilting your head with his grip on your neck, strong and confident. You circle your arms around his waist, moving even closer as you press into the kiss. He moves with you, pulling back a little, but returning almost immediately and kissing you a little deeper, a little firmer. You part your lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he slides his hand down from your waist to brazenly grab your ass, deepening the kiss just a bit, running his tongue along your bottom lip and groaning slightly as you bite softly as his lip in response.

You’ve touched him where you’re touching him before and he’s touched you like this. But it doesn’t feel the same. It feels new, and heady. It feels like a first kiss and a millionth kiss all at once. He’s kissing you like he knows you, and he clearly remembers what you like, but it’s also like kissing a stranger. One who’s picked up new moves that just echo the ones you remember from Before. One whose body is familiar but also different, changed and aged in ways you haven’t had a chance to explore just yet.

Joel shifts his weight in a way that turns you slightly, allowing him to slide his hand down further and grip the back of your thigh before pressing you against your own front door. He uses his grip to pull your leg up, stepping closer and pinning you in place with his hips.

He tilts your chin up again with the hand on your neck and uses his thumb to open your mouth wide. You’re pressed tight between him and the door, sinking into your growing arousal, sinking into him. He looks down at you, mouth held open and waiting for him. You feel hot and dazed, watching as he runs his tongue across his own bottom lip slowly. He meets your eyes, gaze heavy, before lowering his head and devouring your mouth. You sneak your hands inside his shirt to run your nails up his back as your tongues tangle. Joel moans, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, and thrusts his hips into yours. Your breath catches as you feel his arousal meet your own. You feel desire pooling in your lower abdomen and your legs start to shake.

You might have gone on like that all night – you might have let him fuck you against the door, unashamed, outside where anyone can see you – but a door a few houses down suddenly slams shut, startling you both.

Joel almost jumps away from you at the sudden interruption. Not far, he’s still got his hands on your hip and your neck. Your hands rest on his belt. He’s breathing hard and you suddenly realize you are, too. You shake your head, blinking, and start to claw your way back to awareness – your connection was so familiar, so easy, so much like Before. You’d sunk into those depths like slipping into a dream.

You blink at each other before you both let go at the same moment, standing up straight and stepping away. He lets his eyes dance over you, taking in your mussed clothes and swollen lips, before closing his own and pressing his palms to his eyes. He takes a deep breath. You can see the familiar outline of his cock in his jeans, and you force yourself to look away.

“I need to… I’m sorry, darlin’, but we shouldn’t. Not yet.” You nod. You try to convince yourself it’s the smart thing to do, even as you feel the pull of him like a magnet. Even if all you want in this moment is to pull him inside and make him finish what he started, just on the inside of the door this time. For some privacy.

“We still need to talk,” you manage. Your voice sounds unfamiliar to your own ears, but Joel nods in response. “But we agreed, right? This, us, together – that’s the destination. Even if we take it slow.”

“Slow,” he repeats, eyes lingering on your lips. He blinks, and meets your eyes. “Slow, yes.”

“We should walk away before we jump each other where the whole town can see.” You smile as you say it. It doesn’t sit right on your face. You take a deep breath and move to open your door without taking your eyes off Joel.

He smiles back, and nods. His attempt looks just as uncomfortable as yours. “Alright, darlin’, I’ll see you tomorrow? Or soon?”

“Of course. Tomorrow.” Your feet feel rooted in place until he finally manages a step off of your porch. Your face feels like a mask as you try to present something pleasant, agreeable, fine with watching your heart walk away from you. The connection you just reawakened pulls taut between you and tugs at something deep in your chest. You keep your eyes on each other, and once he reaches his own porch you finally open your door. You take one last look, chest tight, before entering your houses at the same time.

Inside, you close your door and immediately slide down against it to sit on the floor, head in your hands.

...

Austin, Spring 2001

You and Joel talked a few times between Sunday and Friday – standing in your front yard, once, and over the phone twice, finalizing your plans and flirting so much you found yourself not paying attention and getting wound up in the cord of the old phone that came with the house. He told you not to waste your limited texts on him, the dinosaur, but you texted him a couple of times anyway. Sarah must have taught him a few things because he actually sent you a winky face back once. It made you laugh and clutch your phone to your chest like some kind of swooning maiden. You told Emily, your friend at work, and she laughed at you so hard she snorted soda up her nose at lunch. Served her right.

Friday arrived just in time to save you from working yourself up too much into a state of anticipation and nerves. You made yourself stick with the outfit you had picked out on Wednesday night when you talked to Joel on the phone and tried to figure out what was appropriate to wear dancing. He told you you’d be beautiful no matter what, but you wanted to look good on his arm for your first – and long awaited – date. You ran the outfit by Emily, too, and she gave it her official born-and-bred-in-Texas stamp of approval. (She also told you it was a good idea to wear jeans, because everyone else would likely do the same.) It wasn’t going to get much better than that.

Joel was going to pick you up at 7:30 after he dropped Sarah off for her sleepover. At 7:15 you were standing in your entryway with nothing left to do, feeling a little foolish. You looked around for something to occupy you and had just decided you’d put some dishes in the dishwasher, maybe, when there was a knock at the door. You glanced at the clock –7:17 – and raised one eyebrow while opening the door to find Joel on the other side. He was wearing cowboy boots, black jeans that were so tight in the hips it should have been illegal, and a button up green shirt that made your mouth water at how it showed off every line of his torso.

“A bit early, aren’t we?” you teased, leaning your shoulder against your door frame and crossing your arms.

“Well hello there, beautiful. I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. And you answered that door pretty quick, you know, to be teasing me like that. Were you waiting for me?” He grinned at you and winked. What a flirt.

“Maybe I was. You’re looking pretty sharp yourself, cowboy.”

Joel offered his hand to you and you took it, stepping outside to join him before locking your front door. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way.”

He handed you into his truck and set off for the taco place he’d been on you to try for months.

(He’d learned earlier in the week while you were talking in your front yard that you still hadn’t gone, and the incredulous way he said your name had made you laugh.

“How? Darlin’, we told you about it months ago!”

“I’m busy, ok! And maybe I was waiting for an invitation.” You smiled and raised one eyebrow at him.

He grinned, but shook his head.

“Well, this can’t stand, darlin’. Seems like I’ll just have to take over from here, hmm? Make sure my girl is getting the best Austin has to offer.” He definitely caught your reaction to my girl, stepping closer and cupping your face with his right hand. You smiled at him, a little dazzled.

“Pretty sure of yourself, huh, cowboy?” You smoothed your hands around his waist and linked your fingers at the small of his back.

“Nah. Pretty damn sure of how much you deserve to be taken care of, more like.” You felt like you were going to swoon again, and really, twice in one week? This man.)

So you headed towards the taco place in the truck. Joel asked you about your week at work, how your students were doing, and he smiled a little when you told him that Emily approved your outfit for a night of dancing.

“You tell her thank you from me, darlin’, I sure do approve, too.” He reached over and set his right hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. You laughed and rolled your eyes a little, moving to hold his hand.

The taco place turned out to be pretty crowded, but there were plenty of tables outside and soon you were settled with tacos and drinks. Your table was cozy, a two-person set-up right towards the end of their outdoor deck, which was strung with fairy lights.

“Well? What do you think?”

“It’s lovely, Joel.” You felt his boot slide forward and settle against your foot. You smiled at him, resting your chin in your hand. “I’m glad you asked me out.”

Joel reached over and ran his thumb across your bottom lip, fingers cupping your jaw. “You got no idea how glad I am that you said yes, darlin’.” You opened your mouth to respond, but he left his thumb there, right in the middle of your bottom lip. He pressed down gently and you couldn’t help but dart your tongue forward to meet it. You watched as he inhaled sharply, staring at your mouth. You opened a little wider.

Joel shook himself and cleared his throat, pulling his hand away. “We should eat, baby. We got some dancing to do later.” He picks up a taco.

You smiled, enjoying the effect you clearly had on him, as strong as the effect he had on you. “Right. Dancing.” He shot you a look, picking up what you were implying.

“Eat your tacos, troublemaker.”

“Yes sir!” He coughed at your response, and you laughed, finally relenting. You picked up your own taco and took a bite.

You moaned.

“Joel! This is amazing!” You looked up from your food to find him watching you, dark eyes intent. “What?”

He just grinned, slow and smooth. “Nothing, darlin’.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but didn’t press.

Over dinner you talked more about your week, about the family party the Millers had coming up, about your worries for your students as you hit the midpoint in the semester. Joel asked you about your coworkers and some of your students by name, and your heart warmed just knowing he remembered them from the stories you’d told him. That he listened and cared.

He told you about the projects he and Tommy were working on now, and some of his frustrations with his crew and the clients. You realized, as you listened, that Joel had never really held back from sharing himself like this, not with you. You knew all of his crew by name and reputation, at this point. You could ask after their partners and you knew their roles on the team. He’d been opening himself up to you the whole time, just like you had with him. You’d barely noticed at first because you hadn’t had anything to compare it to, no idea he could be so careful and distant with people he didn’t know. Knowing him the way you did now, well. You smiled, still listening.

The fairy lights were setting everything off in a warm glow, but you felt like that glow was inside of you, too. Like the connection between the two of you was lighting you up from the inside. Your fingertips were tingling.

You wrapped your ankles around one of his under the table and squeezed. He winked at you in response.

Around 9 you got back in Joel’s truck to head to the club he and Tommy had told you about. Apparently they sometimes played Latin music, but tonight was going to be all country, which meant two-stepping and line dancing. You felt your nerves, which had faded during dinner, start to return.

“Joel, you sure I know enough to go dancing? We barely got started last week.”

He reached over and set his right hand on your thigh again. “You’re ready, darlin’. Just follow my lead – I won’t throw anything too fancy at you.”

You sent him a look. “Something tells me I shouldn’t believe you.”

He grinned, tapping his fingers against your thigh, sending tingles down your spine. “I did say nothing too fancy.”

You soon arrived and Joel opened the car door for you in front of a large wooden building with neon figures in cowboy hats dancing across the facade. He took your hand again, lacing your fingers together, and started walking towards the entrance where there was a small line. It moved quickly and way too soon you were moving inside. Joel squeezed your hand as you entered the club.

The first thing that hit you was the sound – “Ain't Goin' Down ('til the Sun Comes Up)” was blasting through the dark space. You looked around, noticing the tiered side areas with tables and couches surrounding a huge dance floor sunk into the middle of the club. It was absolutely teeming with people line dancing on one side and two-stepping on the other. You looked at Joel and grinned. “Where to first, cowboy?” He smiled back and tugged you towards the dance floor. As you approached you noticed the bar nearby on the first level.

He leaned close so you could hear him, his lips brushing your ear. “Let’s get a drink and then we can watch for a minute, let you get comfortable.” You nodded, smiling at how well he anticipated what would put you at ease.

He got you drinks and somehow snagged a high bar table close to the dance floor. You stepped up to it and he stepped up close to you, to your side and behind you, curving his left arm around your waist. He put his mouth next to your ear again. “What do you think, darlin’?”

You leaned back a little, letting your back touch his chest as you turned towards him to reply. “They’re dancing pretty fast out there, Joel. I don’t think I can keep up.” He raised his right hand to touch your chin lightly, turning your head to the left a bit.

“Look over there, do you see the split?” As soon as he pointed it out you saw it. Yes, there were some dancers going so fast it made your head spin, but there was an area off to the left where pairs were dancing slower, and some looked like they were still learning, like you. “Everyone here is real polite, real aware of each other. No one’ll make you go fast before you’re ready.”

It reassured you, and you leaned back a little more into his chest. He tightened his arm around your waist. “Thanks, cowboy. That does make me feel better.” He grinned at you and winked again.

As you finished your drinks he pointed out people doing the steps he’d taught you, showing you the different ways they could fit together with other things you hadn’t learned yet. You realized the song was changing, and “My Maria” started up. It was a bit slower than the songs had been so far, which seemed like a sign.

You turned to look at Joel. “Should we give it a go?”

He looked surprised, and then pleased that you suggested it. “Let’s get out there, darlin’.” Before he moved away he leaned in for a quick kiss, stealing your breath and then grabbing your hand to lead you to the dance floor. As you reached it, he turned backwards, leading you with both hands into an open spot. He moved you into the stance he’d taught you on Sunday.

“Just follow me, baby. I’ll guide you right.” You nodded and took a deep breath, and then he started moving.

It amazed you how quick you shook off your nerves in Joel’s arms. He was right, you did have a good handle on the basic steps, and he smoothly led you around your little area of the dance floor, deftly steering you around other dancers. He even threw in a spin that left you a little dizzy. “Joel!”

“Sorry, darlin’.” He grinned, not looking sorry at all. “Just wanted to give it a try.”

You smiled back, charmed by his easy confidence on the dance floor. “Just warn me next time.”

A couple songs on the slower side followed “My Maria.” After three, you felt like you were letting the dance happen more naturally instead of staring at your own feet so much. Joel was smiling at you softly, and soon he sent you into another spin and caught you close. You stumbled a little and smiled at him. You realized neither of you were moving. You’d frozen in the middle of the dance floor, when his gaze darted down to your lips.

You'd moved a little closer, breathless, when the crowd suddenly cheered, startling you into stepping back and looking around. You looked at Joel, who was grinning.

“What’s going on?” you asked, but then you heard it. Most of the men were leaving the dance floor – the women in the room took over as “Man! I Feel Like A Woman!” started up. You laughed, but then stopped when you realized Joel was moving away, too.

“Wait, I don’t know what to do!” You were about to get corralled into one of the lines of dancers that was forming around you.

“Just follow along!” he called, grinning. You looked around and saw a woman you didn’t know beckon you closer.

“I’ll show you! Come on!” She broke it down for you slowly, and soon you were moving with the rest of the crowd. It wasn’t that difficult, you realized, just showy. You noticed some were throwing in spins and kicks, but you focused on the basic steps. Once you had a handle on it you looked up, looking for Joel.

When you found him, you almost froze in place. He was looking right at you, and by the look on his face, you knew he hadn’t looked away from you once. He was watching you with dark eyes, intent. It sent a shiver down your spine and you wanted to run to him, or for him to come back and dance with you again. He had a hand on his chin and he slowly rubbed his thumb along his lower lip as you met his eyes. You stumbled a little over the next step and he smirked, not meanly, more knowingly. You smiled back.

For the rest of the song you felt his eyes on you, and you felt like you were dancing only for him. It made you a little bolder – you swayed your hips more and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was angled low. It spurred you on.

By the end of the song you were breathless, and you’d worked yourself up so much you needed a break before you hauled off and dragged him into the bathroom. When you met his eye you knew he was feeling the same way.

The crowd surged a bit as you approached, and you tipped forward into his arms at the edge of the dance floor. “How did I do?” you asked, grinning. He studied you, looking slowly down your body and back up. Your face heated in response.

He leaned forward, arms around your waist, lips brushing your ear again, and said, lowly, “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You tore up that dance floor, baby. Let me take you for another spin.” You closed your eyes and leaned your head against his, overwhelmed.

“Be My Baby Tonight” was playing then, and it was fast and a little intimidating. You turned your head towards him. “Get me a water, first, and then you can spin me all around the dance floor, cowboy.”

He ducked his head into your neck, leaving a kiss behind your ear, and then nodded. He turned and headed straight to the bar as you leaned against the high table next to you for support. You steadied yourself, taking several deep breaths. Dancing now. More of… that later. The thought made you chuckle, but you closed your eyes briefly against the heady anticipation it sparked in you at the same time.

Joel reappeared back in front of you quickly, drinking his own water and watching you intently as you finished yours. “Daddy’s Money” faded into “Shut Up and Kiss Me” as he grabbed your hand to lead you back onto the dance floor without saying a word. Your heart was racing as you followed, eyes locked on his.

The practice and the line dancing had flipped a switch in you, and you found yourself adding little things that made the dance your own. Swinging your hips a bit slower, throwing in an extra twist, spinning faster. Joel met you step for step and encouraged you with every addition. The rest of the club fell away as the two of you moved in sync. You barely noticed when he threw in a new move – a backwards spin of some kind. He smoothly guided you in and out of it, grinning smugly when it worked.

You danced straight through two more songs (“Fast as You” and “God Blessed Texas”, which the crowd loved). When “What About Now” started you found yourselves pressed even closer together, after the crowd that had formed for “God Blessed Texas”. You kept moving, but Joel caught your eyes right as the chorus started and your breath caught. He pulled you close and, to your surprise, sang softly into your ear, “How ‘bout tonight? Baby for once let’s don’t think twice.” You knew he could play guitar, and he’d mentioned before that he’d wanted to be a singer when he was a kid, but he’d never sung for you. You felt his voice, soft like velvet, sink deep into you and you squeezed your thighs together.

You pulled away and caught his eye, coming to a stop on the dance floor. He looked uncertain for a moment before he saw the look on your face.

“Let’s get out of here, cowboy.”

He smiled wide and immediately turned and led you through the crowd towards the door. It took longer than you wanted but eventually you emerged into the cool night air outside of the club.

At his truck he stopped and slipped his arm around your waist. He whispered in your ear, “where to, baby?”

“Take me home, Joel.”

“Just home?”

You smirked at him. “Why don’t you get me there and find out?”

He laughed, opening the door for you and jogging around to throw himself into the driver seat. As soon as he had the truck in drive his right hand was back on your thigh. Higher this time, and with his thumb rubbing a small circle into the outside while his fingers gripped the inside firmly. You sighed and sank a little lower in your seat. He glanced at you, and stood a little harder on the gas pedal.

Joel must have set a record between the club and your house, but soon enough you were pulling up in the driveway and he was opening the car door for you once again. You walked to your front door with him hovering right behind you, hands lightly brushing over your hips as he moved in step with you.

You unlocked the door, but before you could open it he grabbed your hips and spun you around. You found yourself sandwiched between him and the door, left hand firm on your hip, right hand against the door to the side of your head. The echo of your dance positions made your heart race.

He leaned in close, brushing his lips across your cheek before murmuring in your ear, “you got plans tonight, pretty girl?” You heard yourself gasp, lightly, and reached out to loop your fingers through his belt buckles.

“Met some cowboy at the club. He followed me home, trying to get in my pants.”

Joel laughed, and moved a little closer. His left hand moved from your hip to your neck, thumb in front along your collarbone. “Well, are you going to let him?”

You hummed and pretended to think about it. “I dunno. You think he’s any good?”

Joel met your eyes, sliding his left hand to the back of your neck and squeezing. You inhaled sharply and you knew he could see the effect he had, written all over your face. He leaned in and his lips brushed against yours as he replied, “well, baby, you can be the judge of that, alright? After I make you come on my hand,” he kissed you, “and my mouth,” he kissed you again, “and my cock,” he kissed you one last time.

Your head was spinning at his words and you could feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. You thrust your hips against his right thigh, firm between your legs. He squeezed his hand around the back of your neck again and you gasped as he moved back a little.

“Well then, cowboy. Take me to bed.”

He reached behind you and opened the door, pulling you in by the waist as he deftly maneuvered you around it and into your dark hallway. He pulled the door closed and locked it with one hand behind him, never even moving away from you, before backing you into the wall to your living room.

“I’ll take you to bed, pretty girl, but I think I’ll take you right here first.”

Your back hit the wall but he didn’t stop, moving forward until his front pressed all along yours. He caught your lips with his, moving his hand back to its new spot around the back of your neck in a strong grip. With his other hand he undid your jeans, then used both hands to start to pull them down. You reached down to help, but stopped when you realized Joel’s eyes had caught on your underwear. Particularly the lace.

“This for me, darlin’?” As he asked he slipped his fingers into the slide of your underwear before moving his hands around to the back and reaching inside to grab your ass cheeks, one in each hand. You thrust your hips towards his, brushing lightly against his jeans.

“You see any other cowboys here?”

He grinned. “I think I like the idea of you picking these out, thinking about what I might like.”

“Wait until you see what else I’ve got up there.”

“Oh, I plan to.” He stepped back in to press you against the wall, moving his left hand back to your neck and his right hand around to the front to slip inside your underwear. “Mouth or fingers first, baby? What do you think?”

You let your head fall back and rest against the wall, breathless at his question.

“Come on, baby. Good girls ask for what they want.” As soon as the words left his mouth you whined, surprising yourself, a tiny noise in the back of your throat, barely there at all. But he heard it. “Oh, do you want to be my good girl?” The effect his words had on you was obvious – chest heaving, eyes closed, heat rushing to your face. “That’s good, baby, that’s real good. Now tell me what you want.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to focus as his fingers moved lower in your underwear. “Your mouth.” You opened your eyes to see him grinning at you, eyes dark.

“That’s my good girl.” He leaned forward, voice low in your ear. “Now, let me hear you moan for me like you did back in the restaurant, got it? I want to hear it, baby. Don’t hold back.” And without another word, he sank to his knees in front of you. You steadied yourself on the wall behind you, unable to tear your eyes away from him as he pulled off your shoes, and then your jeans, and then your underwear. You stepped out of them as he ran his hands back up your legs to your hips. He placed a light kiss on each of your hips, sending sparks straight to your pussy. Your legs started to shake. His right hand moved back down to reach behind your thigh and he lifted it over his shoulder. Any self consciousness you might have felt at opening yourself to him like that was immediately quashed by the hungry look on his face.

“Oh, pretty girl. I can’t believe I waited this long to get a look at this pretty pussy.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss just above your clit. You took a breath that sounded like a sob. “I’m going to treat you right.” He was looking straight at your pussy as he said it.

He leaned in and started with a slow lick, from your hole all the way up to your clit. You felt it like a tremor that ran from your toes to the base of your spine, almost taking you out at the knees.

“Fuck.” Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair, but not pushing. He glanced up to meet your eyes before doing it again, this time maintaining eye contact. You felt like you were about to hyperventilate.

“Breathe, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

You whined again, softly, and he grinned. As he moved back to press his lips lightly to your clit, he brought up his right hand to tease his fingers at your entrance. He pressed his tongue down on your clit slowly, softly, before tracing the tip of it towards your hole. He pressed there, hinting at pushing his tongue past your entrance. You tightened your hands in his hair and he smiled, kissing you, right there, and then slowly pushed his tongue inside while his fingers moved up to brush against your clit.

You felt like you were floating, like last week when you danced, and again tonight when you were so in sync on the dance floor. It was like he could read you and knew what you wanted before you knew you wanted it. He thrust his tongue inside, curling it a way that made you gasp, pushing your hips towards his face involuntarily. You moaned, low. He caught you with his left hand on your hip and pushed you back into the wall.

“Good girl. Let me hear it.” He teased you again with the tip of his tongue. "You taste so good, baby. I could stay right here for hours.” You shuddered and he moved his fingers down to circle your entrance again. He pushed one slowly inside you. At the same time, he placed an open mouth kiss directly on your clit, lightly tonguing it as he found the spot inside of you that made you shiver.

He kept it up as you moaned again, mercilessly thrusting his finger inside while lavishing your clit with attention from his lips and tongue.

You felt your orgasm start to build slowly, from the base of your spine. It radiated up your back and tingled over your scalp, overwhelming you entirely as you pushed down with your hands in his hair and thrust into his mouth. His hand and shoulder held you up as your knees shook. “Joel, I–”

“I know, baby. I can feel you squeezing my finger. That’s it, pretty girl, let me see you come.” The wash of fire over you made you arch your back, and you called out his name as it took you. He worked you through it until you gently pushed his mouth away.

You heaved a breath and looked down at him, finding him just as wrecked as you, his entire face wet from being buried in your pussy. You watched as he used your hip to pull himself up, standing over you as he pulled his middle finger from inside you and slipped it into his mouth. His eyes slipped shut and he made a noise like he couldn’t get enough. Your mouth went dry.

Joel opened his eyes and reached for you, pulling you into his chest. “That’s one, baby. Ready for two?” You shuddered but fell forward, into his arms.

“I think I need to lie down first.”

He grinned, and wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing you close to lean on him and walking backwards while holding you up. “Let me take care of that for you.”

“Joel, I can walk!” You laughed as you said it.

“Nonsense, darlin’. Happy to have you in my arms, now that it’s my job to make your legs shake.” He winked at you and tightened his hold around your waist, drawing you into a kiss at the bottom of the stairs. You couldn’t help but notice how good his arms looked, supporting you like that. You tucked your head into one side of his neck and kissed lightly behind his ear and along his hairline. He tilted his head to give you better access, humming. Then he lightly swatted your ass cheek.

“Let’s get upstairs, pretty girl.” He encouraged you to go up in front of him, and you grinned over your shoulder at him, knowing exactly why. He stared directly at your naked ass, unrepentant.

Once you reached your bedroom you started to pull your shirt off, but he suddenly grabbed you by the hips and turned you towards him. He reached around behind you to grab your ass in both hands, pulling you into a searing kiss. Before you knew it he was walking you towards the bed, letting you fall onto it backwards. You bounced slightly and your legs splayed open as he stripped off his shirt, grinning at the sight of you.

“Look at you, pretty girl. Why don’t you take off that top for me.” You did, and watched him remove his boots and jeans, too.

Soon he was crawling on the bed, leaning over you on his left elbow while he slid his right hand up your leg, over your torso and finally to your cheek, where he pressed gently to turn you towards him and into a kiss.

“I dreamed about you like this, you know. For a while now.” As he said it he moved his hand back down, teasing your nipple lightly. “You, spread out on a bed, just for me.”

You kissed his cheek as he turned to look down your body, which squirmed a little under his gaze. “I did too, Joel.”

“What did you dream about, baby?”

You bit your lip to hide a smile. “Everything.”

He hummed, and moved his lips to your ear. He murmured your name. “I thought you wanted to be a good girl for me, hmm? Now, what did you dream about?” As he said it he tweaked your nipple slightly, making you gasp.

“Your mouth,” you breathed it so quietly he nudged you with his nose to spur you on. You cleared your throat. “Your mouth, and your fingers. Can’t keep my eyes off your shoulders, never could, even that first day. Couldn’t stop imagining them moving over me as you fucked me.” Your voice was steady, but Joel took the opportunity to drop kisses down your neck, moving towards your chest. You started talking faster. “Your arms, holding me up as you fucked me against a wall. Your lips… everywhere. Your thick fingers, sneaking inside my underwear. Being full of you. Being good for you. Using my mouth on you, sucking you off. Riding you in the backyard. Sneaking into the bathroom together on a night out. Sneaking over in the middle of the night to wake you up by sucking your cock. Waking up to your mouth…” You sucked in a breath as he lightly took your left nipple between his teeth. Your mind blanked. You couldn’t remember anything more. “Everything, baby.”

He twisted his tongue around your nipple before sucking a kiss into the side of your breast. You sank your fingers into his hair as you arched towards him.

“That’s my good girl, yeah? Where should we start?”

“What?”

He looked up at you. “Pick one, baby. Let’s cross something off your list.”

You smiled at him, a little shy. “What about your list?”

“Well, we have plenty of time. And don’t you worry about that.” He crawled over you, legs on either side of your hips, bulge obvious in his underwear. “You’re my list, baby. Everything you said, and everything else we can do, anywhere we can do it.”

You thought about calling him on the lack of specifics, like he did to you, but you knew you’d rather let him follow through on that promise.

“I want your fingers, Joel. Mouth, fingers, then cock, right?” You looked him straight in the eye as you said it. “How many do you think I can take?” He blinked, and then grinned wickedly.

“A good girl like you? I think you’ll take as many as I want to give you, don’t you?” Before you could respond, he leaned down and captured your mouth with his. This time he skipped past any build up and tangled your tongues together as he pressed down on top of you. Your legs were still trapped between his as he ground his cock, still hidden inside his briefs, against your hip. You ran your nails up his back and into his hair.

He shifted his weight to the side, freeing your left leg, which he grabbed at your thigh to push it to the side, opening your pussy to him again. He traced his fingers lightly from your knee to your hip, still kissing you deeply. Once he reached your pussy he traced through the remnants of your first orgasm.

He pulled back slightly, still close enough that his lips touched yours. “Is this pretty pussy always this wet?” You moaned as he slid one finger between your folds, teasing at your entrance.

“It is for you.”

“Even when you touch yourself, thinking about me?” Your face heated a little, and you turned your head. “Don’t be shy, pretty girl. Nothing gets me going faster than thinking about you – how you look when you’re concentrating, when you’re dancing in your kitchen, when you’re relaxing on the couch in those little shorts you wear around the house.” As he spoke he kissed along your jaw and pressed gently with his finger at your entrance. Almost inside. “I think about your hair on my pillow, your thighs around my head, your mouth on my cock, your pussy on my face, your legs around my waist in my shower, and I can barely keep myself from coming in my pants like a teenager.” He slid his finger inside you, and you moaned again, clutching at his shoulders. “That’s it, baby. Now tell me. Do you get this wet when you touch yourself and think of me?” His voice was stern and his finger curled inside you, making you push your hips towards his hand.

“Yes,” you breathed, turning your lips to his. “I’m always wet for you, Joel.” He took your mouth again, thrusting his tongue as he thrust his finger inside you.

“Good girl.” His voice rumbled, low, deeper than you’d ever heard it. He slipped another finger inside you. “That’s two fingers, baby.” He thrust his fingers in and out of you as he devoured your mouth. He slid his left forearm along the bed until his hand was behind your head and he gripped the back of your neck again. “Let’s try a third, hmm?”

You curved your hips into his hand as he added a third finger, stretching you wide and filling you up. You could feel a buzzing in your ears and a tingle at the back of your neck where he held you in his strong grip.

“That’s so good, baby. Taking my fingers so well. How does it feel?” He squeezed the back of your neck with his left hand as he curled his fingers upwards inside of you. You heard yourself whine before you realized you were doing it.

“Tell me, pretty girl. How does it feel?”

You sucked in a breath, and replied, “it’s so good, Joel.” You clenched around his fingers. “I – I need–”

He sucked a kiss into your neck, and then under your ear. “Tell me.”

“My clit—” you trailed off again as he moved his thumb right where you wanted it. You closed your eyes. He started drawing circles with his thumb as he thrust his fingers into you. You clenched your fists in his hair and in the sheets. You could feel it coming.

“Joel, I’m close,” you arched your back into him as he held your neck down in his hand.

“I can see that, baby. Don’t you want to be good for me? Let go, and let me see you come. I want to see it up close this time, see your pretty face.”

As soon as he told you to, you did. Blood rushed in your ears as you arched your chest off the bed, thrusting your hips toward his hand. The orgasm took you hard – you saw stars, felt it radiating out from your core to the tips of your fingers and toes. You might have called his name, but you couldn’t be sure. When you came down you heard yourself breathing hard and realized Joel was murmuring your name in your ear. “That was beautiful, darlin’, I’ve never seen anything so pretty. I knew you’d come so nice, you had to, so fucking gorgeous. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, and all for me. You were such a good girl for me, honey.”

You caught your breath, and then caught his face between your hands, pulling him into a searing kiss. He smiled at you after. You slid your right hand down, trailing over his chest and into his underwear. You gripped his cock in your hand. “I believe you promised another on this cock, cowboy.” It was his turn to moan and thrust his hips forward as you ran your thumb across the tip.

“You know I’m good for it.” You helped when he reached to push his underwear down, then kicked it somewhere on the floor. You took his cock in your hand again, marveling a little at the girth.

“I knew you were big, Joel, but damn.” He straightened his shoulders a little, looking smug. He caught your eye and winked.

“You knew it, huh?”

“You weren’t the only one looking, baby. I’ve seen you in your swim trunks. And that day your pants slipped down a little, on the ladder? Well, you should have worn a belt, is all I’m saying.” He laughed.

He raised his right hand to trail his fingertips down your face and neck, and traced the shape of your right breast lightly. “Maybe I wanted you to look.” You tightened your grip on his cock and he pinched your nipple in response before moving his hand lower and cupping your pussy.

He pressed his forehead to yours. “Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” he shifted his hand to your thigh, pushing slowly to make you bend your knee up to your chest. You nodded. “Hmm, I want to hear you say it.”

“Fuck me, Joel. I’m not waiting any longer.” He lifted his head and grinned at you. You grinned back. He reached over and grabbed a condom from your nightstand and made quick work of opening it and slipping it on.

“Well I know better than to keep a pretty girl like you waiting.” He shifted his weight, hovering over you. You moved your hands to his hips, but he picked up your right hand with his left and laced his fingers through yours before pinning your hand to the bed above your head. You shifted into it, loving the feeling of being held in place. You traced his shoulders with your eyes, watching as his muscles moved to hold you there. He tucked your left leg around his waist, your right rising immediately to meet it.

Then he reached down to take his cock in hand and tease along your pussy from your clit down to your hole.

“You’re so wet, baby. Ready for me, hmm?”

You curved your hips towards him, catching the tip of his cock between your folds. “Always, Joel.”

He thrust his hips forward in response, notching the tip right at your entrance. “Christ, darlin’, this is already so fucking good.” He was watching, looking at his cock just kissing your pussy. You felt heat rushing through you, watching him look.

“Now, cowboy. Give it to me.” He met your eyes again and did exactly as you said, pushing inside, studying your face. Your mouth fell open as you felt first the head and then the rest, stretching you wider than his fingers. You watched him lick across his bottom lip as he filled you up. He was staring at your open mouth. You were panting, tongue lax, surrendering to the stretch. You watched as he let spit gather on his tongue and then slip out, falling directly from the tip of his tongue into your open mouth. You caught it on your tongue and held it there. Your eyes snapped back to meet each other’s gaze as you moaned, loud. He thrust his hips forward, filling you the rest of the way in one swift motion.

He leaned down and licked inside your mouth, running his tongue along yours as he pulled back and slammed into you again, pushing you up the bed. For a moment you were both in a frenzy, your hips crashing together as you opened your mouths wide, tongues tangling, breaths coming hot and fast.

You twisted your hips, squeezing your legs around him, and he pulled his mouth away from yours. “You are so fucking hot, you know that? I ain’t never seen anything like you, never felt anything like this.” He was breathing heavily as he sped up his thrusts, reaching around your left hip and squeezing your ass cheek in his right hand. Pulling your pussy closer with his grip. “You’re taking me so well, such a fucking good girl for me.” You gasped, tossing your head back. “Feels like this pussy was fucking made for me. Christ.”

You could barely breathe, but you managed, “It was, Joel. All yours. No– nobody else.”

“Fucking right, all mine.” He pulled almost all the way out before slamming his cock back in. He tilted his head down and nipped at your neck where it met your shoulder. “All for me.”

“Yes, baby. Give it to me.”

He growled, speeding up his thrusts. He slipped his right hand from your ass back around your hip, sliding his fingers down to your pussy again. He tapped your clit once, sharply, and you let out a sound you’d never heard yourself make before. It sent a piercing arousal through you that made you tighten your legs around his waist. He grinned, and did it again, before starting to work at your clit in time with the strokes of his hips.

He licked from your collarbone to your ear, whispering, “You ready to give me that third one, baby? I want you to come on my cock.” You whimpered and nodded. “Let me have it then.” He was filling you so perfectly, you could feel your orgasm building again. “Let me see it again. Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen. Show it to me, baby. Please.” He bit down on the hinge of your jaw and you felt it hit you again. You squeezed his cock, tight, clenching your pussy as you came. This time it didn’t stop, the movement of his hips and fingers just kept it going, longer than you’d ever felt before. You fell into it. “Good girl,” he grunted as you felt his hips speed up, losing his steady pace. You felt like your orgasm shifted into a new gear as you clutched at his hair and cried out. He thrust hard into you one last time and your eyes flew open, yanking his face from your neck to watch his face as he came.

You locked eyes as you both tumbled over and came down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’d ever had in your life. You were breathing hard, breath mixing together as you stared at each other.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a ghost of your favorite half smile. “Holy shit, Joel.”

He brushed his nose slowly along yours and moved his hips forward one more time. You gasped. “I knew it’d be this good,” he murmured. “Had to be. Fucking made for me, I knew it.” You smiled softly and pressed your lips to his cheek and the corner of his mouth. He caught your lips in a gentle kiss. “Such a good girl, all for me.” Despite how you’d spent the last hour with this man, you felt your face heat a little. He kissed your cheek.

You both took a deep breath and he pulled out slowly, catching the condom with his right hand. He moved away to dispose of it and you stretched languidly, twisting your hips. You’d never felt so content, so satisfied.

He came back quickly, cloth in hand to clean you both up before slipping under the covers with you. He pulled you close, tucking your head onto his chest and gripping your waist firmly with his arm down your back. With the other hand he traced designs on the arm you had flung across his chest.

“I’m mighty glad I asked you out tonight, darlin’.”

You smiled into his chest. “I’m mighty glad I said yes, cowboy.” He laughed at your imitation of his accent.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You sure do.” He reached down and tapped your ass lightly in retaliation.

“Don’t you want to be nice to me, after I was so nice to you?”

You lifted your head to look at him, and he was grinning. You shifted your weight so your left hip rested on top of his, bringing your left hand to support your chin on his chest as you looked at him. “You and I both know you like it when I tease you.” He shook his head, but couldn’t hide his smile.

“Well, you got me. But it just means you fit right in.” You were a little dazzled at the idea of fitting in so well with his family – you knew he meant Sarah and Tommy.

For a moment you just looked at each other. His eyes swept over you, catching on where his now soft cock rested against your hip. You felt your heartbeat begin to slow and enjoyed the feeling of Joel pressed against you everywhere. You let your eyes start to fall shut. He reached over and tapped your chin lightly.

“I know it’s early, darlin’, but I can’t help but imagine sharing a bed with you like this all the time.” He met your eyes, a little hesitant, as he said it.

You tilted your head into his hand and twisted your knee between his, trying to sooth him by getting closer. “It might be early in terms of how long we’ve been doing this, Joel, but we’ve been heading this way for a long time. Since we met.”

He nodded. “I know it. But I still don’t want to rush it – I want to savor every moment that gets us there.” You smiled at the acknowledgement that you were both in this with the same goal, same dream. “And it’s not just about this, you know, even though you blew my fucking mind tonight. I love watching you get to know Sarah too, and seeing how we fit together. Everywhere.”

“Me too, Joel. She’s important to me, and I want this to last.” You looked at him for a moment, and then smirked. “We can take the long way, get lost in it a little bit. Do some exploring.”

He eyed you, and you could see that he was trying not to smile. “Exploring, huh?” He moved his right hand to your lower back and pushed down firmly, moving your hips to meet his as he thrust upwards. You felt his cock stir against your hip. “Well, you just let me know what you have in mind. I’ll be ready.”

...

a/n: chapter 5 coming Sunday, 8/27 :)

a/n: ch 5 now posted!

Tag list: @morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe

Club playlist (all songs are on the series playlist) Ain't Goin' Down ('til the Sun Comes Up) John Deere Green My Maria I’m in a Hurry (And Don’t Know Why) (This Ain’t) No Thinkin’ Thing Man! I Feel Like a Woman! Be My Baby Tonight Daddy’s Money Shut Up and Kiss Me Fast as You God Blessed Texas What About Now Boot Scootin’ Boogie

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #my fic #over again fic #x reader

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highpri3stess · 3 months

Text

TEE/IVORY The Disgraced One, her hypocrisy and her antiblackness: a post

I said I was going to make this post if @/saetoru ever showed her face on this app. And here we are now @ctrltoru-main

In January 2024, a tumblr thread exposing the now disgraced tumblr writer @/saintsugu was posted by an anonymous account named @/user-anon. User-anon exposed this man for engaging with shota art and art sexualizing ed. Other users came out and exposed more of his racially insensitive past as well as his problematic attitudes. The general public was against this behavior and it was a massive call out.

Good right? Problem solved. Let’s go home.

Not even up to 3 days later, an account known as @/criticalthoughts came out. Now this account was different, because unlike everyone condemning @/saintsugu, this person came to his defense. As of now, @/criticalthoughts has deactivated and all their inflammatory works have disappeared into the abyss. All except one.

@/saetoru - currently now @/ctrltoru-main had reblogged the first ever post of @/critcialthoughts, which I am eternally grateful for, because now that debauchery is out here for us to see. Tee, an infamous tumblr who was disgraced out of the writing community and remains a pariah, had come out of the wood works to say something in defense of Ezra.

Now, I don’t need to introduce Tee or Ivory to you people. If you read this post you would know that Tee the disgraced one, is already, to put it nicely, a terrible person. Talking about her is like beating a dead horse. Except this one has refused to die in peace and actively inserts herself into spaces she isn’t needed in.

Now, if the above post by Emmie that I linked here isn’t enough to convince you on why Ivory/Tee should not be welcomed back to any community in tumblr, then I’m sure that her shitty defense for Ezra, the response to people calling her out for her shitty defense, Tee’s antiblackness and her cult of antiblack followers as well as her lack of regard for the genocide going on in her country - all which I am about to get into, will.

Tee/Ivory defending Ezra’s accusations: A summary

Now if you’re like me and you have a short attention span for bullshit, then you won’t want to read whatever nonsense came out from Tee on that post.

But for fairness sake, I’ve decided I'll link Tee’s arguments as I break them down one by one, before I get into what I want to say. You can choose if you want to read the post and the summary or you want to read only the summary.

Paragraph 1: Victims of assault know what a predator looks like.

As a victim of assault:

She has been silenced to pretend nothing is wrong.

She has experienced rape culture first hand.

She also asserts you have to see it with your own 2 eyes to know the real harm.

She implies that she knows the patterns of sexual predators.

Paragraph 2:

Premise (a): It is simply not logical to assert that Ezra is a pedo

Art so far (depicting Shotatoru. and shotadori. Shotagetou. Come on, I’m losing creative names for these) is the only proof of this claim.

People jumped into conclusions -allegedly- because of said content, as far as taking legal actions.She asserts that there is no connection of shota art to pedophilia.

Said shotatoru art is not enough evidence for pedophilia because it is fictional.

She also asserts that majority of the people who jumped into said conclusion acted on emotional impulse

Premise 2(b): People who did accuse Ezra of being a pedophile are acting selfishly.

Asserts that they are not real victims

Asserts that they do not listen to real victims like her.

Asserts that they do not listen to authorities who work on such cases.

Asserts that they are acting in their own sense of justice.

Paragraph 4: Dark content is dark content

Dark content portrays a lot of themes we are uncomfortable with and it is made to explore topics without harming anyone.

Dark content is not used to determine moral standing

No dark content creator is in a place to judge Ezra or draw a line on morality. Simply because they create dark content.

Tee’s concluding points:

Emotions have led people to believe that Ezra finds gratification for such content.

She talks about not knowing what pedophilia is, as we are not real victims and disrespecting real victims. Again.

Calling Ezra a pedophile is hate speech. We have zero proof to harass him - No the shotadori art is not proof- that will stand in a courtroom.

We are driving people off this app and enabling hostility. Also Ezra’s anti-blackness is just a rumor.

The important thing is art is not pedophilia and pedophilia is not art.

My Analysis;

Let me first start by being empathetic to you Tee/Ivory, even if you don’t deserve it. I will never undermine your experience as a victim. As a survivor of CSA, I know that your lines on rape culture is true and real. It’s painful that you had to go through that and I feel empathy for you.

Grace period over.

If you didn’t read my paragraph summaries, I’ll just give you the gist of Tee’s post here.

“As a real victim of child sexual assault, Tee knows what a predator looks like, therefore, according to Tee’s judgement, accusing Ezra of being a pedophile is illogical because the content he viewed was not real CP. Those who label him as such are acting out of selfishness and their claims are invalid because they are not real victims. Also, dark content is too abstract to accuse someone of anything and no dark content creator has a right to draw a line.”

Ivory/ Tee does have a point here. We did jump the gun on calling Ezra a pedo. We just judged based on art, thinking that he’s a pedo for looking at and engaging in Shota art. She makes a good point by saying that we don’t know what we are talking about.

I’m very sure if we even check or compare the definition, it won’t even mean the same thing. There is no know connections of shotacon to pedophilia, even in real life court cases.

So, let’s educate ourselves on what pedophilia is, shall we?

If we look at the English definition, it defines pedophiles as: “A person aged 16 years old or older who is mostly or only sexually attracted toward prepubescent children. (by extension, common use) An adult who is sexually attracted to or engages in sexual acts with a child…”

And if we look at the definition of Shotacon: “A sexual complex where an adult is attracted to young, typically prepubescent boys, or the fictional depictions thereof.” or “hentai anime or manga, or other Japanese-inspired erotic art featuring young, usually prepubescent boys.”

“a fictional young boy character, especially one featured in such material. Typically drawn with exaggerated or stylised cute features.”

Wait a minute.

Let’s look at Wikipedia maybe they’ll give us a different definition: “Pedophilia is a psychiatric disorder in which an adult or older adolescent experiences a primary or exclusive sexual attraction to prepubescent children.”

Okay, US legal: “Pedophiles are people with a sexual attraction to children. Manifest acts, such as taking sexually explicit photographs, molesting children and exposing one's genitalia to children, are all crimes.”

Okay, okay, Britannica: “Pedophilia, in conventional usage, a psychosexual disorder, generally affecting adults, characterized by sexual interest in prepubescent children or attempts to engage in sexual acts with prepubescent children.”

Oh. By definition, every thing found on Ezra’s twitter account would qualify him -not just english wise but legally as a child-lover.

Okay, you can still argue that there are no real life accusations linking shotacon art to being a predator. Except, that’s not the case:

A particular case of a man in Virginia who was arrested for looking at shota/loli art. This was an added charge, to downloading CP in his hard drive and assaulting an 11 year old. He was supposed to be banned from the internet, but had used shota/loli as replacement for CP, thinking the authorities wouldn’t notice.

I could go on and on about cases linked to this, but then again I would again be beating a dead horse.

So Tee, you woke up. You took your device without doing ANY research. Came on tumblr.com and started to type a poorly researched, poorly thought out post in response to the bullshit @/criticitalthoughts posted.

Because if we stand by what you said about it not standing in court, we know that is bullshit. If Ezra stood before a law court today, he would register as a sex offender.

Now, let’s come down to you weaponizing your victimhood:

As you notice if you read what Tee said, you will notice phrases such as “As a real victim” “real victim like herself” “People who are outraged are not real victims”

You will also notice her little blurb about Dark content creators not being moral enough to draw a line.

There is actually a name for that behavior. It is known as Virtuous Victim Signaling. For those who don’t know, virtuous victim signaling is basically claiming victimhood whilst demonstrating a sense of moral superiority in order to gain approval or favor.

What Tee has effectively done in her blurb is not only state that those who had valid concerns about Ezra’s predatory fetishes are not real victims - most like myself are actually survivors, as well as condemn other dark content creators who are also majorly survivors, as hypocrites, she has also put herself in a sort of moral high ground as a “non bully” or “anti witch hunt”

By portraying herself as the only victim in this situation, she has stripped other survivors not only of their experiences, but also of any form of empathy or understanding we are meant to have for the survivors' concerns. This is not the first time Tee has exhibited this behavior, as we see when she is confronted with bullying accusations (that turned out to be true) and her turning it around to make it seem like she’s the one affected instead of taking any form of accountability.

And it’s funny how Tee/Ivory loves to talk about witch hunts and bullying when you are single-handedly responsible for pushing out four writers from this app with false accusations, lying on your friend about blackfishing, outing Emmie’s new account on your callout post -an account that was supposed to be private mind you, lying and subposting that people were copying your blog’s aesthetic and plagiarizing your fics, inciting death threats on your own mutuals, bullying a black muslim who called you out on defending Ezra’s actions and deflecting his situation and posting her account name so that people harass her.

You also mention something very interesting in your post Tee:

As far as I remember Tee/Ivory, you had a burner blog that you used to harrass your mutuals. You spread hate about your own mutuals. You sent death threats and encouraged your followers to send death threats to your own mutuals the moment their blog had traction.

You mean like how you spoke ill about Emmie who was your friend? Or how you dragged my mutual Nara on your page and called her Islamophobic? Or how your followers are doing the exact same thing and dropping into people's inboxes?

The problem with virtual victimhood signaling is that people like Tee can see themselves as a pinnacle of morality when everything they accuse others of is what they themselves are guilty of. Tee is perfect embodiment of 'every false accusation is a confession' literally.

Also, in terms of putting herself in a moral high ground, she mentions that dark content creators have no right to judge or draw a line. Which is not true, because if people at bizzarocon could draw a line at a guy fake SA a fully grown aborted fetus as shock value -and if you know bizzarocon you’ll know that they literally write ANYTHING taboo, then dark content creators can draw a line for the same reason.

Anything that involves a child, real or a likeness of a child, is where we draw the line.

(I recommend you read that article well, because Chandler's argument and Tee's argument correlate with each other)

Writing about things like noncon or dubcon is all about regaining a sense of control that was lost. It is all about what happens to the writer or to the the reader. It can even help to process their feelings and coming to terms with cnc kinks. It can serve to bring awareness. It can even make people uncomfortable. It depends.

No dark content is more palatable than the other Tee.

And we are not crazy for all agreeing that shota art is wrong.

What does shota or loli content give? What is the intent behind wanting to put vulnerable children in sexual positions with you an adult as an aggressor? Think about it.

Using being a CSA victim and mentioning Ezra’s case of of being a CSA victim does not absolve Ezra from what he did or justify his attraction towards the likeness prepubescent kids. There are many CSA victims that grow up and repeat the same thing again because instead of vowing not to repeat or inflict harm on kids like they did to them, they use their victimhood as an excuse, a shield to perpetuate the same harm on others. Your kind of rhetoric is what a lot of pedophiles and MAP use to justify their actions.

It is sick. It is twisted. It is evil.

You do not get to undermine or silence other survivors’ outrage just because of your personal beliefs Tee. You don’t get to strip them off their survivor status. You are not the only ‘real’ victim and you do not get to speak for us or over us. Using your experience to undermine anyone else's is simply unacceptable Tee. You had absolutely no right

Tee’s racism and racial insensitivity:

If you follow any black writer on here, you would know how many have left due to racism.

You will also know that black writers in the anime community face intense racism for simply existing in a predominantly nonblack space. We are treated like nobodies, told to our faces that our faves would hate black women. We are called slurs in our inboxes, told our pussies are burnt and smelly just to name a few.

When we talk about how we are not represented in fics we are bashed and when we do write x black reader fics we are criticized intensely.

This is what black writers have to face on this app. Every. Single. Day. An app that is supposed to be our safe space and sanctuary.

When the Ezra allegations came out, a lot of black women came out and reiterated that while they were in the same server with him, Ezra had called black women’s hair nappy and then said “it was a joke” and in return these women had to leave because the server members defended Ezra.

Not just one. Not two. About 5+ black women came out to say this. Word for word.

And I’ve spoke to a few who had evidence of what he had done and how they were treated horribly.

Now Tee/Ivory thought it was a good idea to not only discredit victims of Ezra’s antiblackness but call them “rumors” and witch hunts. And when confronted about what she said about it by my mutual, she put words in my mutual’s mouth by saying she is linking pedophilia to antiblackness.

I don’t need to tell you that speaking over a black woman and putting words in her mouth is racially insensitive and also a form of racial violence. I’m sure you know this Tee.

Then Tee derailed the topic into talking about palestine. Something Tee convinently only brings up when confronted with her bullshit. Something that Tee never EVER talks about or reblogs on her account.

You can go check the only posts in tumblr Tee has opened her mouth to say anything about palestine if it is not her avoiding responsibility for bullying and false accusations. Not once did you see her post about the boycott divestment week that was happening THAT WEEK. or the strike that we were not meant to post anything that wasn’t pro-palestine.

Not only that, when my mutual rightly called her out for using the Islam card (virtuous victim signalling AGAIN) to hide behind the fact that she was defending a pedophile, and yes smut is against the Hadith. You don’t get to pick or choose what is a sin or not, especially when your fellow muslim sister is speaking to you. Tee wrongly accused her of islamophobia, posted her account for her followers to send her racial slurs. Tee never clarified or apologized to her for anything that happened right after.

Let’s not mention how this is also a textbook example of antiblackness in the Islamic community which you just perpertuated there. Tee’s behavior, silence and tolerance of antiblackness from her followers also shows where she stands.

Also, Tee you are a horrible person for weaponizing your loved ones and the ongoing genocide to shield yourself from criticism. You only care or mention it when people are rightfully airing you out for your lies. How dare you. You are sick. You are sick for encouraging your follower to incite violence on a black woman. You are sick for accusing a black muslim woman of islamophobia and you are very sick for hiding behind Islam to propagate horrible ideaologies.

Then again, you are only a poc when it benefits you. Your activism starts and ends with using it as a shield when faced with valid criticism about your actions.

In conclusion:

Why did I make this post? Is it to call Tee/Ivory out?

No.

It is a reminder. This is is the kind of person Tee is. She will silence another voice that isn’t hers and hers alone. And the fact she even came back and started writing on this app again is disapponting. Yes, many people would see what she did as just ‘drama’ but her bullying, threatening, silencing of surviviors, antiblackness and using a genocide as a shield for valid criticism will never be drama to me. It is real. These are issues that bleed out in real life.

At the core of your heart Tee/Ivory, this is who you truly are:

Bragging about how you’re in a different tax bracket on site that says eat the rich and means it, is ironic. Calling people brain dead and jobless for saying that you should take accountability - most of us who are actually accomplished - in fact far more accomplished than you will ever be Tee and far more talented and humble compared to you- is embarrassing.

You and your fans can keep spewing out slurs like it’s a tuesday morning Tee/Ivory.

You want to complain about hostility after witch hunting and kicking out better writers from this app? People that were your moots who cared about you? You want to complain about hostility when you outed Emmie’s new account? Or when you let your followers harrass Nara? Or how you had a hate account bullying and mocking your fellow writers? Or you single handedly making everywhere so toxic that your ex moots had to deactivate?

You?

You’re the cause of the hostility. You. You. You.

The JJK fandom is not missing anything with you gone. Don’t come back until you apologize to everyone you hurt with your actions. And if you like, delete your account and make a different one. Change your name. We will still know it’s you at your core. You'll can never change who you really are and this behaviour will forever stain your reputation in the fandom circle.

#tw. discourse #tw. csa mention #tw. ed mention #x reader #x reader discourse #tw. racism #tw. antiblackness #tw. fanfiction discourse #jujutsu kaisen #tw. weaponized victimhood #jujutsu kaisen discourse #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #saetoru #Tee/Ivory

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