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tommysversion · 1 year

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Jealousy, Jealousy [ Joel Miller x Reader / Tommy Miller x Reader ]

Summary: you walk in on Joel & Tess, despite your building chemistry with him. Hurt, you turn to his brother for comfort. Joel finds out, and he isn’t happy.

CWs: derogatory language / unsafe sex / age gap implied / oral sex (m!receiving) / cum play / cum eating / choking / alcohol usage / use of pet names / very little plot it’s just a spicy mess

Tag List: @joelsgirl @loquaciousferret @dreamingofdaddydin @funnygirlthatgab

Notes: like always, this is for the girls, the gays and the theys. I wanted to finish my other WIP but this took over. Have fun.

Buy Me A Coffee?

Part Two / Alt Version

The whiskey burns your throat on the way down. You’re on maybe your third or fourth, but it’s still not enough to burn away the sight and sound you came across earlier.

You don’t have any claim on Joel, not really. Nothing has ever happened between you, even though there’s been a few close calls, but you were almost certain that he felt the same way about you as you do about him.

Until you walked in on him and Tess. Now you can’t get the image out of your head, the sight of her beneath him, the sounds…

You slam your empty glass down on the bar. It’s a shitty dive of a place in the QZ, one you all know well enough.

“Whoa there.”

You turn your head to find yourself face to face with Joel’s brother, Tommy, concern etched into his face. He’s not bad looking, not really, but you’ve never really been interested in him. Until now. Now, he’s looking pretty fucking good. Or maybe you’re just noticing him. Who cares.

“Come on, let’s get you home before curfew.” He holds out his hand to you. You don’t need it, not really, you aren’t drunk enough, but you take it anyway, let him lead you out of the bar and onto the streets.

“Why’d you come looking?” You ask as you let him walk you home.

“You didn’t show up to drop off this afternoon. Figured something was wrong, figured I’d find you here.”

“Didn’t think anyone would notice. Joel and Tess seemed too busy to care.” You can’t help the bitterness that creeps into your voice as you mention it.

“Ah.” Tommy shrugs, “try not to worry about it. My brother’s an idiot.”

Normally you’d argue. Jump to his defence. Tonight you just don’t feel like it, too hurt by what you saw to argue. Reaching your apartment block, you turn to him.

“You gonna come in for a drink? Least I can do after you walked me home.”

You know what you’re implying, don’t mind if he takes the hint that you’re offering more than a drink. You almost don’t expect him to follow you, but he does, up the stairs and into your apartment, shutting the door behind you both while you fish out two glasses and a bottle.

“Make yourself at home.”

You pour the liquor while he drops himself down onto your couch, spread out and lazy. Really, he’s quite attractive. You’ve never really noticed before, and maybe it’s the fact that you’re so angry and hurt that’s making you see him in this light, but still.

You hand him one of the glasses, down your own before you sit yourself down on the floor by his feet. You’re being forward as hell and you know it, but you’re tipsy and hurt and you just want to forget for a short while.

He looks down at you, surveys you with dark eyes so similar to Joel’s. The thought makes your heart hurt, so you push it away.

“What are you doing, hon?” His hand comes down to catch your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him.

Tommy doesn’t know what’s going on between you and his brother. Knows that Joel’s an idiot if he doesn’t realise that you’re interested. If he was a better man, he’d push you away, but, well…

It’s been a while since he’s gotten anything, and if his older brother is too stupid to realise you’re right there, dumb enough to fuck around with your feelings and Tess? Well, he doesn’t mind being the collateral.

“Trying to decide whether or not to suck your cock.” You admit, not bothering to be coy as you look up at him.

“Oh, yeah? What’s holding you back?”

“You haven’t said that I can.” You shrug, fingers creeping up his thighs.

“There’s a pretty girl on her knees for me askin’ to suck my dick, you think I’m gonna say no?” Amusement colours his tone.

“Well… I wanted to be polite and ask.” You smirk as your fingers find the zip of his pants, tug it out the way, your small hand reaching in and wrapping around his cock, stroking lazily.

He just leans back into the couch, watches you as you rub your thumb over the head of his cock, brushing across beads of precum, collecting them on your fingers to lick them up.

“Christ…” his eyes darken as he watches you, your eyes on his as you lean in and press feather light kisses to the tip of his cock. He’s nice and big, thick, slightly curved, and you love the slightly salty taste of him.

You don’t like to brag, but you know you’re good at this, enjoy it even, pressing little kisses along the length of him, tiny kitten licks to the slit in the tip, teasing until he fists a hand into your hair and yanks your head down onto his cock, almost making you choke.

You recover quickly, sucking his cock like he’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, moving your head up and down, guided by the heavy hand in your hair.

“Fuck…” he rocks his hips up into your mouth, getting deeper into your throat, “such a sweet little mouth…”

You hum around him, urged on by the praise, eager to keep pleasing him, so desperate to be wanted…

You know full well this is messy and sloppy, your drool coating his cock, eyes watering slightly as you look up at him. You can’t see it, of course, but you’re a vision to behold, on your knees for him, mascara running down your face as your cheeks hollow out for him, his cock disappearing into your throat like you were made to take him.

God, he’s impressed, both by how well you worship his cock, and by how quickly you’ve worked him up.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty thing…” his hand releases your head, strokes your cheek lazily.

You pull away from him for a moment, wrap your hand around his cock and stroke slowly.

“Cum on my face.” You tell him, hazy with lust and drink. “On my tongue.”

He groans, moves to guide your mouth back to him, but you move faster, wrap your lips around him and let him rut up into your throat, moaning around him. Fuck, he tastes so good, exactly what you needed.

You can feel him becoming more erratic, groaning softly before he pulls out of your mouth, wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it roughly as your lips part, tongue flicking out to catch the hot ropes that spurt from his cock as he groans.

Fuck, you’re a sight to behold, on your knees, makeup a mess, lips parted with his cum on your tongue and your face. You lean in and lick him clean, swallow every drop you can get.

His fingers reach out, swipe through the mess he’s left on your lips, press them into your mouth.

“Suck ‘em, that’s a good girl.”

You do exactly as he says, swirl your tongue around his fingers until you’re satisfied they’re clean.

“You want me to -?”

You shake your head. You’re exhausted, your throat hurts, and while the offer is nice, you don’t think you can stay awake for it.

“Nah, ‘s okay. I just wanted to give you something.” You offer him a small smile as you get to your feet, watch him tuck himself back into his pants.

To his credit, he’s not a jerk. He makes sure you’re safely in your bed with a glass of water beside you before he heads off into the night, leaving you almost wishing you’d taken up his offer.

——

A week later, you’re sitting in the same bar with one of your friends, pointedly ignoring Joel a few seats away.

Once again, you’ve had a few too many to drink, and it’s loosening your tongue.

“So, what’s the deal with you and that guy anyway? The mystery man you were telling me about the other day?” Your friend knows exactly the right questions to ask, and while normally you’re not the bragging type, seeing Joel again has sent that spike of bitter resentment and jealousy through you.

Sure, it’s not like he’d ever promised you anything, but he’d damn well seemingly made it clear he was interested. Only for you to walk in on him fucking Tess like he loved her.

You hate him for it. Hate him for hurting you. More than that, though, you hate yourself for not being brave enough to confront your feelings.

But right now, you’re feeling spiteful, and you know damn well he can hear every word you say.

“Oh, it wasn’t really anything, just a one night thing.” You shrug.

“What did you say his name was again? Jimmy?”

“Tommy.” You run your finger around the rim of your glass.

“As in Miller?”

“Mmhmm.” You can feel Joel’s gaze burning into you as you speak. “He walked me home, one thing led to another…”

“Fuck, he’s so hot though…” your friend sighs, “I bet he has a great dick.”

“I mean… I liked it.”

You giggle, a very uncharacteristic sound, but still. You don’t regret what happened, not at all. You like giving head, and it wasn’t like he had an unpleasant dick. If anything, you kind of wish you’d let him fuck you. Maybe another time, seeing as Joel is clearly no longer interested.

“Are you gonna give me any details, or?”

You’re about to open your mouth when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

“Outside. Now.”

You don’t need to look to know Joel’s pissed; you do anyway, are met with his stormy glare.

“Nice to see you too, Joel.”

“I mean it. Outside, now, or I’ll drag your ass out.” One look at him tells you he’s not kidding.

Sighing, you excuse yourself from your friend. Follow Joel out of the bar into the street, or rather, let him tow you out. Let him drag you by the wrist back to your apartment. Nobody wants to be caught in the streets at this hour.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You demand as soon as he’s slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t you what the fuck me.” He growls, crossing his arms over his chest as he backs you into the small room.

“I absolutely will, what’s your goddamn problem?” You hiss at him, furious. Furious and still hurt, because the last time you saw him he was fucking another woman, and no matter what you do you can’t get rid of that image.

“You! You’re my goddamn problem, running your mouth in that bar where anyone could hear you.”

You roll your eyes at him, your own temper flaring.

“How is what I was talking about any of your business?” You demand, glaring at him. “How is what I do any of your business?”

Admittedly you’re not very intimidating in comparison, but still.

“You were making a damn fool of yourself. Do you ever know when to keep your fucking mouth shut?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your brother? He seemed to know how to shut me up.” The words come out before you can stop them.

Joel exhales slowly, pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“Is there a reason you’re being such a goddamn bitch? Fucking my brother included.” He’s so damn frustrated right now, not understanding what’s gotten into you.

Usually you’re so sweet to him, the pair of you dancing around the mutual attraction you share. He’s not going to push it if you don’t, but maybe he’s misread things?

You stare at him.

“Are you fucking serious right now? You don’t know why I’m mad at you?”

He just stares at you.

“I heard you and Tess, you asshole. So yeah. I know that for all your sweet words and the way we’ve been dancing around the subject? That’s just how you are, right? Anything to get laid, I guess.” You spit the words.

Something in his gaze snaps as he crosses to you, backs you against the wall, slams one hand into the cracked plaster beside your shoulder, the other settling on your throat.

You’re too angry to be scared, even though you know he’s dangerous, know you’ve pushed him too far, like poking a goddamn angry bear.

“First, don’t fucking assume that you know any goddamn thing about what happened that day.” He’s leaning right down to you, you can smell the whiskey on him, but still you aren’t afraid.

“Second, don’t presume that I’m that sort of bastard. You really think I’d do that to you?”

You glare at him.

“You already have.” You hate that your voice shakes as you say it.

Joel sighs as he looks at you.

“I’ve known her almost as long as you’ve been alive. Almost but not quite. There’s a difference between me fucking her when it means nothing, and what you’ve done.”

You glare at him again, because you don’t see any difference.

“It may not mean anything to you, but it definitely does to her.”

“And that’s her fucking problem, I’ve made it goddamn clear to her that I don’t see her that way, that that would be the last time. Then you go and fuck my brother?”

Somehow, suddenly, it becomes important to clarify. As if somehow it will make him less angry.

“Technically, I didn’t fuck him.”

“You-“ Joel stops mid sentence and looks at you. “You didn’t?”

“No. I mean, I sucked his dick, but… I was angry, I was so fucking angry and I just wanted to feel something. I just wanted to feel wanted.”

Joel stares at you like he’s never seen you before. Like he’s trying to understand you.

“And I don’t make you feel wanted?”

“Not when I walk in on you fucking someone who hates me, no. Not particularly.” You look away from him, before you do something stupid, like cry, which is a very real possibility whenever you think about what you saw, what you heard.

“Guess I need to change that.”

His hand drops from the wall, the other one releasing your throat as he leans in and devours your unsuspecting lips in a kiss. It’s desperate and angry and hungry, but you cling to him, your fury and your need pouring into it as he lifts you up, carries you across the room and into your room.

You pull him down on top of you, not letting go when he sets you down on the mattress, kisses still full of fury and rage but of something else, too, something you’ve been holding back for far too long.

“Still can’t believe you let my goddamn brother touch you.” Joel growls it into the soft skin of your throat, grinding his cock against you, your clothes still in the way.

You shove your skirt up, hands finding his belt. He catches your wrists in one hand.

“Were you this fucking eager for him, too?”

There’s that dark glint in his eyes again, possessive and jealous, even though he started this, even though he knows that really, he has no right to be angry. It doesn’t stop him.

“Does it matter, Joel? You really think I’d have done it if you’d just fucking…”

“Just what, sweetheart?” He releases your wrists, only because he needs his hand to tear your panties down, cup your bare cunt in his rough hand.

“Just fucking admitted you wanted me first!” You snap at him, grinding yourself against his hand in spite of your temper.

“Yeah, well. We all make mistakes, don’t we?” He plunges two fingers knuckle deep into your cunt, effectively stopping you from answering with anything but a strangled moan.

Your hands tear at his belt, yank his jeans down, your hand wrapping around the length of him. Fuck, he’s big, bigger than his brother, thick and hard and dripping pre cum, all for you, all because of you, because in spite of how angry he is, he still wants you.

Just as you want him, your cunt aching and dripping onto his fingers as he fucks you with them, hard and fast and punishing.

“I should make you suck my cock, refuse to touch you; but if I do that, what’s to say you won’t go and whore yourself out to someone else?”

His words are dark, gaze feral as he looks down, watches his fingers disappear inside you.

“Better I just take you, ruin you for anyone else. You won’t want anyone else when I’m done with you, it’ll be nothing in comparison.” He leans in and bites your throat, right above your collarbone.

“Is that right?” Your hand strokes him roughly; you can feel how needy you are for him, feel yourself tightening around his fingers but it’s not enough, you need more.

“Don’t fucking push me, sweetheart.” He growls it, drags his fingers out of you, presses them to your mouth.

Automatically you part your lips, suck on his thick, rough fingers until they’re coated in your saliva rather than your slick, your eyes on him the entire time.

He groans, a sound that’s still closer to a growl than a moan.

“Fuck sake…” he’s still furious with you, that fury coming back tenfold at the lewd way you suck his fingers, as if they were his cock.

“This how you sucked him off?”

“I don’t know,” you challenge, “are you gonna fuck me like you fucked her?”

He glares at you, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll pull away, that you’ve pushed him too far.

He does the opposite, moves so fast you can’t keep up, lines himself up and slams into you, every inch of his cock pressing deep. You scream out for him, half in pleasure, half in surprise.

Fuck, he’s so big it hurts, you feel so full you’re not certain you can take him, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t give you any time to adjust, one hand bracing himself on the mattress, the other gripping your waist to pull you onto his cock, over and over until your back arches off the bed.

“No,” he growls in answer to your question, “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

He’s relentless, pounding into you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, rough and hard, growling against your skin the entire time, covering every bit of exposed skin with bite marks and bruises.

“Joel…” it comes out half squeal, half moan as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, gets deeper inside you.

“That’s it, sweetheart, can feel how needy you are for me. Don’t think you’ll ever want anyone else, huh?”

You shake your head, mute except for mewls and sighs of pleasure, your nails digging into his arms, trying to hold on, but unable to think straight, barely able to see or focus.

“That’s what I thought, baby, gonna get you so fuckin’ addicted to my cock you’ll forget all about anyone else. This sweet pussy is all mine.”

Fuck, he wishes he’d done this sooner, wishes he’d avoided this entire fucking debacle, because he’s afraid it’ll always hang between you now, unless he fucks you so hard you forget.

“Already was, Joel, always been yours…” you moan it out for him, fingers finding the sweat damp curls of his hair and tugging, hard.

He moans, a deep, guttural sound that you immediately commit to memory, the sound alone making your cunt throb around him.

“Oh, you like that, baby? You like hearing what you do to me?” He shakes his head, grinds into you slowly before resuming his relentless pace.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna…”

Oh, he knows. He can feel you fluttering around him, tight little hole becoming even tighter as he fucks you, leans down and presses a searing kiss to your mouth before he pulls out of you.

You whine at the loss, but before you can say anything else he has you flipped onto your front, face buried in the mattress, ass in the air as he slams back into you, both hands on your waist as he fucks you so hard you see stars.

There’s no holding back, not anymore, your hands clawing at the mattress as your eyes roll back slightly from the pleasure, feeling yourself tighten painfully around him before your climax hits, hard and fast, washing over your entire body, leaving you shaking beneath him, screaming his name loud enough that the entire goddamn building can hear.

“That’s fucking right baby, you scream for me. You tell everyone that you’re mine.” He yanks your hair back, holds you upright as he ruts into you, thrusts becoming more and more sloppy and erratic with each movement.

“Every fuckin’ inch of you is mine, you hear me?”

“Yours, Joel, all yours…” you moan it for him, still on the high of your climax, entire body over stimulated.

“That’s goddamn right.” He slams in deep once more, one final time, grinds against you as he cums, fills your tight little pussy with hot ropes of his spend, groaning the entire time.

He stays there for a moment, catches his breath before he pulls out of you, flops down beside you.

There’s a moment’s pause, where you aren’t sure whether you’ll still see rage in his eyes if you look at him. Aren’t sure whether he’ll see it in you, either.

He saves you having to look, answers the unasked question by pulling you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t.” You reach up to touch your hand to his lips. “Don’t be. I should be the one apologising.”

“I think we both owed each other an apology, to be honest.” Joel says finally, “though, uh… maybe that was a good start?”

You laugh, lean into him.

“Skip the apology and go straight for the makeup sex, huh?”

Joel smirks, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, darling. That wasn’t the makeup sex. That was the I’m fucking furious sex. You’ll like the makeup sex a whole lot more.”

Smirking yourself, you roll on top of him, lean down so you can press a kiss to his mouth.

“I like the sound of that. How do I sign up for it?”

“You promise we won’t touch anyone else. Ever.”

You press a long, heated kiss to his parted lips.

“Easy enough for me.”

“Good.” Another smirk before he rolls you, pinning your smaller frame beneath him. “I fucked you like I hated you. Now you’re gonna find out how I fuck when I love you.”

You just whimper, wrap your fingers into his curls and drag him into another kiss. It’s going to be a long night.

#my writing #joel miller #the last of us #tommy miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #Tommy Miller x reader #joel miller smut #tommy miller smut #pedro pascal character fic #tommy miller x you #joel miller x you

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marriedtobigfoot · 1 year

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Part two of this story, where Robin discovers Steve’s type. A lot of people seemed interested in more, so here you go!

The conversation doesn’t go quite the way Robin is expecting it. She’s fully prepared for Steve to launch into saying how confused he is because he’s feeling weird pants feelings for Eddie, but how does that work because he likes girls? She’s been mentally preparing herself for that exact discussion since she watched Eddie Munson call her best friend ‘Big Boy’ in the middle of committing grand theft auto. So when Steve starts talking, curled up on the gross linoleum tile of Family Video, she’s taken by surprise. She doesn’t even get the chance to answer his question before he’s throwing her prepared speech out the metaphorical window.

“That’s stupid, you already told me that. Sharon Parker in the 5th grade, holding hands for Red Rover, blah blah blah, I know that. But like…Have you ever acted different around a girl, and then one day, you realize it’s because you like her? Like, you had a crush on a girl without even realizing it? Does that make any sense?”

It takes Robin a second to reboot, but the second she manages, Steve throws her even further off track.

“It’s just, Tommy H came by the other day, and he said some stuff that really has me thinking and-”

Robin can’t stop herself. As soon as she hears a name other than Eddie Munson, she has a hand out covering Steve’s mouth. He gives her a look, surprised and confused. Maybe a little annoyed. She valiantly ignores him because what he just said has her head spinning, and she needs to put a stop to it right now.

“Steve. My best friend in the whole universe. I’m here for whatever you need and whatever you might be figuring out about yourself. You know I’m going to support you 100% no matter what happens but…Please. PLEASE tell me that you didn’t just discover you have a crush on TOMMY H! He isn’t even your type, Steve! He isn’t even in the ballpark of your type! He’s so far off it’s honestly kind of laughable and-”

Now it’s Steve who puts a hand over her mouth.

“Jesus, Robin! First of all, gross. I’m not into Tommy, okay? Never gonna happen, not in a million years. And second, what the hell do you mean ‘my type?’ What the hell would you know about my type?”

Robin carefully removes his hand from her face and shakes her head. She has absolutely no clue where this conversation is going, but there’s still a chance it can work its way somewhere good. Somewhere Munson-related. And she owes it to Steve to listen to his crisis properly.

“Nevermind, forget that. What happened with Tommy?”

“Okay well, he came over, like I said. He was super wasted, and I guess he and Carol broke up? And he started talking about when we were friends, and how he always used to try and get closer to me. He said he almost asked me if I wanted to practice kissing once? And he talked about like, trying to touch me all the time, trying to make me laugh? Basically saying he had a crush on me, which was super weird.”

Robin nodded, because really, she had no idea what to say to that.

“And then he kissed me. Which was kind of gross because he tasted like whisky and he was being all sloppy, like he wanted to eat my face. But…”

“But?”

“It wasn’t as gross as I would have expected I guess.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like him!”

“I don’t! It just, wasn’t a totally horrible kiss okay? Only a little horrible.”

Robin sighed and let her head tip back against the wall.

“Okay, I’m not seeing your dilemma yet. Tommy liking you and kissing you is kind of weird sure, but it doesn’t change anything about you.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a puff of air. He looked small in this bathroom, scared in a way that Robin hated. They had faced down monsters, torture, long shifts with Keith. A conversation with his best friend should never have Steve looking that afraid, ever.

She reached out and took his hand in her, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, it’s okay Steve. Tell me what’s going on in that head.”

“It’s just…Some of what Tommy said. About how he tried to get closer to me, to touch me and make me laugh and shit? I guess I realized that I’m doing that stuff. With somebody else. And if Tommy did it because he liked me then…”

“You think it might mean you like this person. This…guy?”

“Yeah. This guy.”

There it was, the Eddie Munson of it all. Because Robin only knew of one guy that Steve spent his time with and would be trying to be touchy and close with. She had watched it happen with her own eyes, the way Steve would look for reasons to lean past Eddie, to put a hand on his shoulder, his back, once getting brave and putting a hand on his waist. She’d watched Eddie do the exact same things around Steve, too.

Part of her almost just comes out and tells Steve, that she knows who he’s talking about. Except he still looks unsure. He looks like he wants to throw up a little, and Robin has to fix that.

“You know it’s okay right? For you to like this guy?”

“I know. It’s just weird, to realize I might like him that way. Normally I can figure out when I’m into someone.”

“Well, normally you aren’t friends with the people you’re into first. That makes it confusing.”

“And I’m normally into people with boobies.”

“That too.”

Steve lets out a tiny laugh, and it makes Robin beam. Something about Steve is lighter now, like somethings been lifted off his chest, something that’s been there for a really long time without him knowing. She wants to tell him how much she’s loves him. How much she cares about him and supports him. She wants to tell him about all her research, and fully explain to him her findings when it comes to ‘his type.’

She wants to tell him that she knows the guy he likes is Eddie. That she thinks Eddie might like him too.

The ‘ring for service’ bell ruins her chance at saying any of it.

She and Steve both clamber off the floor, adjusting their vests before exiting the bathroom to greet whoever keeps ringing the stupid bell over and over again. Robin can’t decide if it’s the best luck in the world, or the worst, when it’s Eddie Munson himself standing at the counter.

She leans towards best luck when she sees the way Steve’s cheeks go red.

A few people asked to be tagged if I did a part 2, so hopefully I do that right! I’ve got a few more parts planned, so if anybody else wants to be tagged let me know and I’ll do my best!

@kaiscove @wolfstarlights @awkwardgravity1 @anonymousbandgirl @f1ct1onwh0re

#steve harrington #Robin Buckley #Platonic Stobin #Wingman Robin Buckley #Steddie #Eddie Munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steddie ficlet #stommy #one sided stommy #because I am a Tommy was in love with Steve Truther FIRST and a person never #Steve may have liked him once upon a time but that ship has sailed now

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mcdynamite · 1 year

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When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.

Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?

Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.

It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.

He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.

The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?

Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.

The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.

It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season."

He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.

The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.

What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.

Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.

Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.

Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.

He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-

"Eddie?"

Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?

Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.

Christ, this is going to be so bad.

So, so bad.

"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"

Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.

"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."

Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.

"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."

Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"

Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."

That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.

But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.

Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.

Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.

It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.

"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.

His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.

It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.

NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.

It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.

His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.

The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.

"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.

Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.

Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?

"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."

So much for plausible deniability.

He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.

"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."

The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.

"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.

"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."

Eddie freezes.

"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"

Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion.

It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable?

"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"

"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"

"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.

"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"

"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"

At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.

Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.

"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."

"You... I... What? Since when?"

"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."

Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"

Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way.

"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.

Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles.

If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be.

"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."

"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.

"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.

Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.

If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."

A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes.

And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.

"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."

Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.

"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."

Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.

"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"

Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.

So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.

He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.

"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."

There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.

It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.

Eddie wonders if maybe they were.

When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.

"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."

Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."

And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.

Eddie can't fucking wait.

He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.

Oh, God, he gets it.

Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.

He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.

Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...

And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.

Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."

Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.

"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."

Steve just smiles and kisses him again.

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wormdebut · 26 days

Text

APRIL MICROFIC — SHAME ON ME

@steddiemicrofic | PROMPT: fool | WORD COUNT: 454 | Rated: M | CW: angst from all sides (happy ending though, always.)

——

He should’ve fucking known.

Of course Steve ‘Perfect Fucking Everything’ Harrington didn’t care about—didn’t want—wasn’t in love—

“Eddie—just let me expla—“ Steve starts.

Nope.

“You know what, Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, hopes the vitriol in his voice is heard loud and fucking clear. “Fool me once? Shame on me. Fool me a second time? It’s still shame on me, for being a fucking idiot. But fool me a third time? A fourth? Shame on you, Harrington.” He spits, physically spits at Steve’s stupid fucking feet.

Steve has the gall, the absolute audacity to reach for Eddie’s hand.

“Baby, please just—“

Eddie slaps his hand away. He knows what he saw.

He saw Steve kissing Tommy fucking Hagan.

“Fuck you.”

——

This whole sexuality thing is a mess.

‘I’m sorry my ex best friend shoved his gross tongue down my throat but I was thinking you could fuck me to make me forget about it.’

There’s a 50/50 shot that goes over well.

He didn’t even know he was into guys and then Eddie just—

Eddie’s just—Eddie.

He’s pretty sure he’s not into guys. Or girls actually. He’s just into whatever the hell Eddie is.

And then Eddie kissed him and that was fucking hot and Steve just—ran.

Fool me once.

He did a lot of talking with Rob, figuring things out. He and Eddie fucked talked it out, but then he felt things way too soon and he ran again.

Fool me twice.

Things had been great, fucking wonderful, then Tommy showed up out of nowhere. Fucking grabbed Steve and Eddie saw it.

He doesn’t know how to fix things, this time.

——

“Ed. That boy ain’t leaving and if I have to listen to him banging on our damn door for another minute—“ Wayne gripes.

Eddie huffs.

“Then you tell him to fucking leave!” He snaps.

Wayne levels him with a glare. “Not my fight, boy. Fix it.”

Eddie stomps to the door. Stupid fucking—

“What do you want, Harrington?”

Fuck Steve for looking so damn good, exhausted—but hot as hell.

Bitch.

“I just wanted to explain. He kissed me I—“

Fuck that.

“I’m not really interested in your excuses, alright? I can’t do this anymore.”

Steve looks at him, stupid eyes, big and pleading. “Eds, fool you once shame on me. Fool you a thousand times, shame on me a thousand and one.”

Mmkay. Poetic or whatever. Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Okay—so, is this an apology or—“

Steve huffs, “Yes it’s an apology it’s—I love you, Eddie. I fucking love you and I’m sorry. I really think you’re fucking it for me and if you would just let me—“

Eddie cuts him off, crashing their lips together. They’ll figure it out.

#steddie #worm brain #eddie munson #steve harrington #uncle Wayne the unsung hero.#steddie ficlet #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficapril

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evita-shelby · 8 months

Note

Hi, hello

This is my first request ever, please ignore my spelling mistakes if there's any, I'm French so...

So how abt the femreader /OC (as you want) has an illness and is destined to die but Tommy pursue her and falls in love with her anyway and then she dies and we see how he copes. I'm a sucker for angst.

Thank youuu

You are welcome 😊

I cried so hard i ran out of tp to clean my snot.

Promise

Gif by @manie-sans-delire-x

Cw: death, illness, grief, suicidal thoughts

You hoped he’d forget about you while he was in France, but when he stepped down that platform he was as in love with you as when he had left.

You had broken things off with him before he even left and yet he returned to you as if nothing changed.

No matter how much you tried, Tommy never left your side.

Eventually you had to tell him the truth.

You were dying.

You had a year at most, the tumor was not operable, and it wouldn’t be long before you were dead.

“I can’t leave you, love, not when you need me most.” He had said as he held your face in his hands.

And he hadn’t.

Not when the barmaid showed up and made it clear to all that she wanted him, not when he provoked Kimber and certainly not when Campbell threatened to have the hospital deny you care if he didn’t give him the guns.

Campbell hadn’t expected you to laugh and spit at his face, “Do it, do your fucking worst, Inspector. I am dead anyways.”

You were dying, but you were never going to let Tommy and his dreams die with you.

You had a year.

And you had decided that your last wish was to see Tommy get the hell out of here and be the great man you know he is.

This you tell him as the two of you stand as witnesses for Freddie Thorne and his sister, Ada.

He couldn’t say no to you, he said so as you tied his tie for him and told him to drive you and Ada to the courthouse where Freddie was waiting with his cousins and a rabbi.

“It could be us up there,” he said quietly knowing you’d say no.

“Ask me again in a year.” You love him, and that is why you refuse to tie him to you like that.

Time passes slowly, you encourage him to pursue Grace because he needs the distraction. There was something there, on her side at least.

Not that he budged, said he didn’t need anyone else. Not when he had you.

“I’m going to marry you.” He says the words you feared the most. He did never learn to let go, even when death took those he loved most, he stood there refusing to let go.

“Tommy, I do not want to tie you to me like this. Not like this.” You plead for him to move on weeks later when he takes the barmaid to the races.

“I’m gonna marry you, when you go, I want you to go as my wife, y/n.” he vowed just as you vowed to see him succeed.

You supposed that is what had you say yes.

He wants to do things proper, keeping almost every tradition and custom in place that you find to your liking. Whatever you want for your big day, he and Polly make it happen.

Its sweet and thoughtful you think as he gets the two of you on a table at the Garrison and announced to all that the two of you will be getting married.

He had bought you a ring, a Claddagh ring like the one his mum had worn. Only difference was that the other one was lost in the Cut and yours had a red garnet heart to represent his love and devotion to you.

Tommy was a romantic, no matter what he did to hide it.

You dance in the dark of your room nights later to some old record your mama had since she settled here with your father.

“We could always elope, go somewhere just us and come back like our parents did.” He suggests and you nod.

As much as you’d like to do things properly, you’d rather get the things on your list done before you meet your maker.

Besides, that trip to Liverpool before the war had been lovely and you’d like to see the sea again before you go.

“I’d like that.” You say and that next morning the two of you set off to Liverpool like the wild teenagers the two of you used to be.

The wedding is lovely even if it happens in front of strangers, but the weekend the two of you spend as newlyweds is enough to make you forget your time is running out.

Perhaps when your health becomes worse you could return here, die somewhere beautiful away from everything.

“I wish we didn’t have to go back.” He admits as the two of you lie down on a blanket and enjoy the sun on your faces on your last day here.

“Once its over, we should come back here.” You say as if you knew for sure you’d be alive by then.

Zilpha Lee saw your death in the first chills of December. A black star and blood on Tommy’s heart.

It was late July now.

Only five months left in your clock. And you were going to make the most of it.

And you did, you danced at John and Esme’s wedding like there was no tomorrow. You gave the barmaid a good enough thrashing she never even got to call the police on Freddie and when little Karl was born it hurt your heart to know you would never have this with Tommy.

You wept like a baby in his arms as everyone celebrated down at the pub.

“Promise me you will love again.” You dry your tears and make him swear to live for you.

He cannot die with you, you refuse to let him.

“Don’t make me promise that, love, I’ve only ever loved you.” He shook his head, refusing to even think of a life without you in it.

It becomes the first of October that night.

You can’t hide your illness no matter what you do. A girl from the neighborhood is hired to help you and from your bed you play cupid between the sweet but never spineless Linda and the most unlikely dashing knight, Arthur.

When they finally go out ---with Finn to keep things proper--- it is late November.

And as if by magic, you are bursting with energy enough to leave your bed and make sure there is no loose string left by December 1st.

You are laughing with Polly over something when you see it in Tommy’s carefully annotated diary.

A black star on December 3rd.

He plans on having everything done by then, to deal with Kimber and Campbell that same day and spend the rest of your time on earth in a cottage by the sea.

It was supposed to be a surprise until you answered a call back from the woman renting it.

If only you could live long enough to get there.

But you won’t.

Zilpha had said on the day of the Black Star.

On December 3rd your time was up.

And you had fulfilled your mission, on that day Tommy would have reached the first step towards getting the hell away from here.

Only Polly knows what transpired during that meeting with Zilpha Lee and she holds you as your heart breaks all over again.

“Promise me you’ll take care of him.” You ask her as she holds you tight enough to put you back together again.

“Of course I will, sweetheart. Just like I told Martha Strong I’d take care of her boys and John’s Martha as well.” The older woman promised you as she gave you her Black Madonna.

Its is December 3rd when Tommy leaves the house as giddy as a boy on boxing day.

“After this it will be just us in that little cottage by the sea, love.” He had promised kissing you like there was no tomorrow.

And there wouldn’t be.

The moment the bullet strikes his chest, you collapse at his desk and never rise again.

By the time Jeremiah lets him go, you are gone.

That night, after the undertaker has taken you away to prepare you for burial, he takes your ring, a bottle of whiskey and his gun.

When he pulls the trigger, there are no bullets and he curses you for leaving and refusing to let him leave with you.

He wakes up in Charlie’s Yard, with his aunt and uncle wearing black for mourning.

“I promised her I’d take care of you, don’t make break that promise, boy.” Polly said as she helped him back on his feet.

After your funeral he leaves for the seaside, hoping to have the peace and quiet to finish what he started and yet as he sits there in ghe sand looking at the ring he gave you, he remembers your voice making him swear to live for you.

And he does.

On December 3rd 1922, he returns to the beach with May Carlton now wearing your ring on her finger.

“Thank you.” He whispers to the wind.

#tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x wife!reader

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wutheringcaterpillar · 17 days

Text

A Bump In The Night: Part 3

Find part 2 here Summary: Tommy confronts Pol, and comforts you, meanwhile James and Lizzie pay a visit expecting to settle a date.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, p in v, spanking

taglist: @calmingmelody96 @sunflower-tia

Tommy bursted through the door, grabbing everyone’s attention from the living room lounging areas. Finn knew that look, the “Get out or I will force you out look”. The only Shelby that refused to move was Pol, along with the elephant in the room. Smirking she didn’t say a word from her position in the armchair, gracefully sipping the burning cup of tea.

Removing his jacket, he hung the fabric cloth away onto the coat rack, reaching for a cigarette before addressing you.

“Go to your room. Now.” When you tried to respond Tommy held his hand out, silencing any further words you may want to add. Shrugging and crossing your arms tightly around your torso, with hurried footsteps you scurried into your room, slamming the door shut, the walls shaking from the anger behind your strength.

Rolling his eyes, Tommy knew he’d deal with you later, and began to approach his aunt with vindication, and power with every step against the hardwood floor.

“I thought we came to an agreement Pol.” Taking a seat, he crossed one leg over the other, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the end table.

“I don’t recall, what you’re speaking of my dear, ever infuriating nephew. Go ahead kill Mr. Gold, it’s what you do best after all isn’t it? I pity you Thomas. I knew your mind was fucked, hell all of ours are, but your sister? I knew you were close but that’d be a line I thought you’d have the common sense not to cross.” Scoffing, he let the burning sensation liqour wash down his throat, twiddling the glass with his hand, thinking wisely before responding.

“Hm.” Eyebrows creasing together, his lips curled into a soft smile, a smile that spoke with a threat.

“Pol. I’ve always put this family first, the business first have I not?” She nodded subtly, still holding her stance on the opinion of profound disapproval for the relationship, trying to ignore every day the knots curdling in her gut just at the thought of you two together.

“She’s young, and I refuse to be her heartbreak, as should you. She was crying today y’know? The thought of you marrying her off, to Lizzie’s cousin, sending her away from me. She’s comfortable here, and she will lose all sense of trust if you push her out of this house. I won’t allow it. So allow this to sit next to you as a reminder. I know where your son is, I know he’s got some whore knocked up right now. It would be a shame if something were to, I don’t know, happen to them, all at the cost of your disapproval of Y/N and I. So listen, and listen closely.” Pol sat there, her heart sinking like a ship down into the depths of her stomach while a lump formed in her throat from disbelief. Her worried eyes fixated on Tommy.

“You will not marry her off. She will stay here, in the place that has been her home. You will keep denying of any knowledge that we are anything more than brother and sister. Forget the cut, I have more information than what I need, and you of all people should know, when I have a plan, chaos ensues, wars break loose and I can assure you-“

He stood up from his seat, staring down at your anxious aunt, lips pressed in a firm, cold hard line not stuttering a single word with his menacing tone.

“You do not want to go to war with me. Call off the wedding, or you leave my hands tied with no choice. Your call.” Pol watched as he walked off to the stairs, presumably to your room.

Opening the door, he found you face down into the plush pillow, his shirt tucked between your delicate soft hands. He knew this act well, and known it to be the silent treatment that you’d only give him when you’re terribly upset.

“Darling. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’ve got it under control and taken care of. You know I’ll always look after you.” There were those soft, wide teary eyes when you tilted your head up. Tommy pursed his lips in pity, always hating see his baby girl saddened, the delicate thing you were. His hand pressed against your teary cheek, caressing your soft skin while he placed a kiss to your temple.

“C’mere.” He pulled you onto his lap, cradling, and holding your shaking body closely to his heart as he felt your nose nuzzle into the crook of his warm neck.

You truly were terrified Pol would send you away, marrying you off to anyone who held the highest bid, like you were just some pawn in a game you weren’t wise enough yet to play.

After a moment of silence and Tommy rubbing your back attempting to soothe you, when he felt your breathing pattern relax and no longer heard sniffles, he presumed it time to discuss what happened at school.

“So, who’s this new friend of yours eh? With me taking care of Pol, I don’t see a need for you to be cordial with him anymore.” Furrowing your eyebrows, struck by his jealousy, you pushed yourself off of his lap, standing directly in front of him with your arms crossed, a discerning scowl painting your face.

“I don’t think that’s very fair, considering you know how I feel about Lizzie, yet you disregard me every time. She likes you, just how James likes me. Maybe a little jealousy, would do you good to realize your not the only man that wishes to be between my legs.”

“Ah but there’s the difference love. I am the only man that has been between your legs, and if I recall correctly…” Trailing off, his digits ran between your heated thighs, feeling the warmth of your pussy still yearning for another fuck from him. He knew he was quite right when you released a lustful, surprised sigh, eyes nearly fluttering shut.

“You wouldn’t want it any other way.” Tommy focused his calm ocean on yours, noticing you weren’t telling him to stop as he massaged your mound.

Pulling your panties aside, you hadn’t stopped him from inserting one of his digits deep into your already soaked core, receiving a hum of approval from your brother.

“That’s what I thought, my desperate girl.” Your chest was falling and rising , eyebrows furrowing together trying to hold back from the building pleasure, trying to make that tiny heartbeat in your pussy diminish not wanting to give him any gratification.

His plush lips connected to your neck, marking his territory as he kissed your honey suckle, smooth skin while his fingers continue to work you open.

Giving into him, you fell back onto the mattress, Tommy towering over you, clutching your breast through the tight shirt, having the ability to see your nipples already hardening, wanting to burst from the thin fabric.

His fingers sped up, your nectar merely swimming down your slippery slope as you grinded down against him in an attempt for more friction.

“More- p-please Tommy…” Pulling his fingers out, you whined from the sudden emptiness, ready to throw a fit once more until he pulled you over his lap.

“You know the rules yet you disobeyed them.” Frowning, he pushed you skirt up, displaying yourself over his thick thighs, feeling the cold leather of the buckle of his belt against your side, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

Perching your ass up, you were biting your lip nervously, embracing for impact.

Shifting slightly, you winced when in reality Tommy was just rolling up his sleeves.

Caressing the delicate skin of your bum, he swiped his hand back before sending it full throttle clashing onto your smooth, unharmed skin.

“Ow!” You screeched out, but the more you squirm, the sharper Tommy hit, more forceful.

Slap after slap he watched your ass bounce, your skin darking to a bruised shade.

“Are you going to talk to boys anymore?”

“No! No! I promise Tommy!” Another smack, your ass cheeks stinging and writhing in pain. Your hands gripped at the sheets while you were on the brink of tears, cheeks heating from the agony.

“Did you learn your lesson?” He took amusement from seeing your desperation for the punishment to be over.

“Yes! Yes! I swear!” Pushing you off onto your stomach, he removed his pants, sliding those soaked panties to the side, revealing your glistening cherry, dripping like water and eager to be filled.

In a swift motion he was still careful, knowing it’d only been your second time, thrusting slowly inside of your tight walls.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you released a lustful moan from feeling so full. The pain was still present as you adjusted to the large shape of his cock, but the mint scent of his breath by your ear, and the warmth of his skin against your back comforted you, subduing the uncomfortable feeling.

“Taking me cock so well love, so fucking tight you are.” Nibbling on your ear, he pumped slowly in and out of your cavern, allowing your sex to suffocate his shaft. Moaning you moved your bum back, demanding more friction, more movement.

“Eager now, are we?”

“Fuck me Tommy please, I need you.” The sound of your desperate, delicate voice was enough for him. Quickening his pace, he drilled into your dripping cunt with a such force your ass bounced up and down against his skin, grinding and pushing him further in until he was balls deep inside of your dripping cunt.

His lips connected to the crook of your neck as you moaned sweet despairs into the pillow, an engimatic fire lighting between your thighs while he fucked into you relentlessly.

His hands roamed down your sides, sucking and leaving his marks on your shoulder blades.

All of him was yours, and all of you was his. Skin to skin, each ping of pleasure forming clouds in your heads, thighs becoming weak as he gripped your sides, his cock swiftly pounding up into your cervix.

“Tommy I-I’m going to-“

“Since you took your punishment so well, I suppose you can cum. Release love.” Without needing any further instruction, you rode his cock with such ferocity and precision, until your walls clenched tight around his thick member, your silver syrup oozing out as your toes curled, your body trembling around your brother.

At that moment there was a knock on the door startling you both, it was Pol standing in the door way huffing and puffing when her eyes fell on your nude bodies intwined in bed.

“Oh for godsake! I don’t mean to interrupt your rendezvous but James and Lizzie are downstairs. Get yourselves together, they’re requesting to speak to you both.” Slamming the door behind her, Tommy rolled his eyes, holding you close to his heart when he sensed your discomfort of going downstairs. You hated to upset others, and held a strong dislike of confrontation. You knew it’d look odd if you were to stay upstairs, and Tommy would always protect you and keep you away from the line of fire.

Peppering sweet kisses to your cheek, and tickling your sides. He reassured you once again that he had things under control, not to fret.

Coming down the stairs, Lizzie scoffed at the sight of your messy bed head, to which you replied with a hateful sneer. To avoid tensions, Tommy settled his hand on your arm protectively, giving a stare of dominance, demanding obedience or else.

Walking in with a cup of tea, and Pol by his side, James walked in with a kind hearted smile that soon turned upside down once he realized the change of heart by the subtle apologetic look on your face.

“To what do we owe the displeasure? Surely you’ve heard I’ve already found her a more suitable candidate, you understand, eh?” Tommy held his strong position, his determined blue eyes speaking with power and position, ensuring that they were comprehending there was no further room for discussion.

Lizzie stood there baffled, wanting to prod at who it was. She’s had her suspicions for quite some time. Pol wanted to slap that stupid grin off her nephew’s face, knowing the game he was playing at. James stepped further in the room, disregarding Tommy, and settling in the love seat, folding one leg over another. If Lizzie wasn’t going to ask, he was.

“What is your problem with me Mr. Shelby? I’ve posed no threat to Y/N, I’ve been a kind friend to her. Tell me, did you really find another man, who are you saving her for someone else?” The skepticism in his voice, and the confidence in questioning him made Tommy smirk.

“I don’t like you. I don’t trust you, nor are you good enough for her. As her brother it’s my job to ensure her safety, and approve of who’s to marry her. Why would I trust her with someone who’s bought whores off the street, assaulting them when you believe no one has an eye on you, eh?”

“Brother or lover?” The room went silent, everyone astounded by the accusation, focusing their eyes on Tommy, waiting for an answer.

Chuckling, he took a seat across from the boy while pouring a glass of whiskey from the sidetable.

The tensions were high, a lump held in your throat from being nervous, all of Birmingham knew what Tommy was capable of. James tried to act as if he wasn’t frightened and intimidated of the middle Shelby, merely locking his jaw to hide the slim quivering of his bottom lip while Pol and Lizzie held their standing positions.

“Quite offending accusations, no? For someone who knows little to nothing about us Shelby’s. I find you intriguing James, you’ve lost the game but still willing to play, why is that?” Tommy spoke with authority and grit, unphased by the boy sitting in front of him. James knowing how introverted, and shy you were took the opportunity, glancing toward you grinning as if he had an upper hand, before he had the chance to take a jab at you, Tommy leaned forward, pointing his finger at James.

“My eyes are over here. She’s not involved in this little conversation. She’s a big girl, can make her own choices and she chose for me to tell you to fuck right off, or I will not hesitate to call my men, and ensure you never return. Don’t believe me? Then tell me how I know so much about you when you’ve only just met my sister today.” Before Lizzie could argue for her nephew, Tommy raised his hand silencing her, reminding her the men were talking and her interjection wasn’t needed.

James was rendered speechless, Pol fuming nearly breaking her glass in her hand when the boy got up without a word, bidding you goodbye and leaving, forcing Lizzie to come with him.

As soon as the door shut you rushed over to Tommy crying joyfully and squeezing his sides.

Pol thought back to Michael, holding her tongue at the risk of his life in Tommy’s hands. She hadn’t even known where Michael was. Shooting daggers at you both, she exited the room calling for Arthur for a family meeting.

#Tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #ranaewrites #peaky blinders

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jenna-ortega · 5 months

Text

grey november

vertigo act iii

pairing - joel miller x female reader word count - 4.1k warnings - angst, pinv, meanish joel, tommy being a golden retriever, kissing, joel is stupid as always but he redeems himself, also fluffy joel a/n: hello all! hope you like this chapter! it proved to be difficult, since i hate writing fluff but lowkey it's there. let me know how you like it, and if you have any ideas for what you want to see next..i may or may not heed that advice ;)

SUMMARY: you and joel speak about what you saw, and you've decided you need time. needing time being you running and hiding from joel every chance you get. that is...until he catches you at thanksgiving. can you forgive him for what you think he's done? joel sure hopes so.

previous chapter - series masterlist

series playlist by the wonderful @lovers-liability

"Didn't expect to find you here," Joel muttered, crossing his arms. You turned off the faucet, swallowing hard before meeting his gaze. "I needed a moment," you replied, your voice steady but laced with unease. "A moment, huh?" Joel scoffed, his tone cutting through the air. "Funny how you seem to need a moment every time we're in the same room lately." You averted your eyes, the memories of your last conversation with Joel resurfacing. "What are you even doing here, anyway?" Joel continued, his frustration palpable. "Tommy invited me."

You had fallen for Joel Miller, and now you had to deal with that. You had to deal with the suffering only someone who had power over you could cause. Your body aches as you’ve spent countless nights awake, wondering what this suffering was supposed to mean. Does it make you stronger? Does it thicken your skin? Is suffering always meant to be brushed aside as a means of growth? Suffering has no glorious purpose. It only hurts.

It takes courage to lift your bones from your bed, to face the same pain you’ve been feeling through every simmering sun, and every crested moon. A man can do this to a person? You think to yourself. You want to ask him why, you want to shout at him, and beat at his chest. You want to hug him and kiss him all at the same time. Fall to the feet of the one who broke you and look for the healing you desperately needed. You feel yourself changing as the leaves start to change outside…is it November already? Are we bound to repeat the same cycles until even after the end of times?

Your body on autopilot as you walk to your shower, making sure the heat of the water burns to the touch. You need to boil your skin clean. Need to wash away any piece of skin that he once touched. Scrubbing yourself clean of him physically.

You hear cells take 7 years to regenerate.

Would it take that long to be a body Joel has never known?

—

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across a quiet jackson, you found yourself perched on the edge of your steps. Feeling the cool air hit your cheeks as you try to breathe through your heavy chest. Grappling with a tangle of emotions.

Soft footsteps echoed a few feet from you, your body stilled, and when you lifted your head, there stood Joel, the man who had left a trail of heartache in his wake.

Joel’s eyes reflected a mixture of remorse and determination as he began to speak. The wind seemed to hold its breath as you waited for him to start, too confused and numb to begin to hold the weight of what this conversation meant.

“Hi,” Joel clenched his fists, guilt etched on his face.

You scoffed

“Hey.”

Joel shifted uncomfortably, his gaze unable to meet yours. The air felt charged with tension as you faced Joel, your eyes reflecting the storm within.

“I-I don’t know where to start,”

“Try starting with why the hell you’re at my doorstep. And then end it with you getting the fuck off my doorstep.” your teeth clenched, spitting attitude at Joel.

You began to walk away from him, trying to go back inside. You’re upset. Upset Joel didn’t stay away longer. You needed time to forget this, you needed to tell yourself he wasn’t real. You made him up, and now you’re back to the real world.

Joel stood there, frustration apparent on his face as he tried to reach out to you, who was briskly walking away. Joel grabbed your elbow, pulling you back to him, looking down at you with his eyebrows furrowed,

“Please, just hear me out. I'm trying to apologize."

You glanced up at him, eyes cold, but stopped reluctantly. Pulling your arm from him and crossing them.

"You can't just apologize your way out of this mess."

"I get it, I messed up. But walking away won't solve anything. Can we at least talk about it?"

You sighed, patience wearing thin.

“What is there to say?”, you shook your head in defeat

Joel ran a hand through his disheveled hair, finally not avoiding your gaze.

"I don’t know why she was there. I threw her out as soon as you left." his voice was strained, pleading to you.

A heavy silence settled between you two, until you spoke again, tone cold.

"I need time to think. Leave."

Joel nodded, sighing heavily, and turned to leave. As he reached the bottom step, an unexpected surge of anger consumed him. The weight of his guilt transformed into the Joel who destroys, and he turned back to face you.

"I'm sorry, alright? But you don't get to play the victim here. You have your faults too," he spat.

“Excuse me?” your nostrils flared, eyes flashed with indignation. "My faults?”

You both were about to put on a show for anyone who dared come near you two.

“Don’t act like it’s not normal for her to possibly be in my house. Remember what we did to her. Remember what you asked me for.”

Tears welled in your eyes, not believing what you’re hearing, you raised your hand to Joel, watching his head swing sideways as your palm landed hard across his face.

“Fuck you.”

It happened fast. He rushed your body back into your house, slamming the door shut behind him before he took his place back in your face. Holding both your wrists against the wall behind you, caging you into his body as his nose was practically against yours, looking deeply in your eyes as you’re both panting.

“You were the one that started this.” he picks your wrists up and slams them back against the wall, earning a whimper from you, raising his voice a little louder, “You don’t get to act like a brat when your actions have consequences.”

He lets go of your hands, and you begin to rub them furiously to try and dissipate the pain.

“Listen,” his demeanor is calm again, but you shrivel up against the wall to make yourself as small as possible. Feeling yourself begin to sink to the floor, you remain silent.

You sat on the floor, eyes downcast and silent. The weight of the argument lingered, suffocating the room. Joel took a deep breath, the gravity of his words settling on him like an anchor. He approached you cautiously.

He said your name, his voice low and remorseful, "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

You remained silent, gaze fixed on your hands. Joel sighed, a mix of frustration and guilt gnawing at him.

“I hate that we're both feeling like this," he pleaded.

You nodded slowly, and he lifted you up from the floor, both of you retreating to a quieter corner of the room, away from the remnants of your argument near your front door.

“I’ve been an asshole. Feels like I've said this all before to you,” he breathes out an airy laugh, you don’t budge.

He noticed your unease, your quiet demeanor signaling a vulnerability he had never intended to expose.

“How ‘bout we take a break from all this.”

You yearned for him even after it all. You desire things patterned to always destroy you in the end.

“Yeah, I-, I don’t think I'm ready to talk about us.” you stuttered out, afraid to make eye contact with him. Afraid if you did all your wishes from early to fall at the feet of the thing responsible for the collapse might come true.

Joel nodded, sucking in a breathe,

“Okay.”

—

There was a warm glow casted over the horse stables as you worked diligently, pitchfork in hand, cleaning out the stalls. The familiar sounds of horses neighing and hooves against straw filled the air. Your focus was on Sparkle, a gentle black mare with a shimmering coat that seemed to live up to her name.

As you worked, the rhythmic scraping of the pitchfork against the straw was interrupted by a light voice behind you. "Hey there! How's it going?"

Turning around, you were met with the smiling face of Maria, one of the many important people on Jacksons committee. "Hey, Maria! Just another day in the stables, you know," you replied, wiping a bit of sweat from your brow.

She leaned against the stall door, eyeing Sparkle with admiration. "Sparkle's looking as beautiful as ever. You really have a way with her."

You grinned, patting Sparkle's side gently. "Yeah, she's a sweetheart. Just needs a little extra care, don't you, girl?"

Maria chuckled, then her expression turned curious. "By the way, I haven't seen you at the bar lately. Everything okay?"

You paused, glancing at the pitchfork in your hand. "Oh, you know, just been here. Busy."

Maria tilted her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Busy, or avoiding the usual crowd?"

You chuckled, feeling a hint of embarrassment. "Maybe a bit of both. Sometimes, I think I'm too old to still be working there."

She nodded, understanding. "Fair enough. But you can't escape the social scene forever, you know. We miss having you around."

You sighed, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "I'll make an appearance soon, I promise. Just got a lot on my plate right now."

"Well, whenever you're ready, we'll be at the bar, waiting for you," Maria said with a friendly wink.

She leaves, and you’re left alone. The chatter is constantly getting old for you, you want to be left to your own devices. You want people to stop caring about where you are, where you’ve been, and where you’re going. You need to be invisible. You need to make yourself something Joel forgets.

You were finishing up your early morning stable duties, and a gentle breeze carried the familiar scent of hay and warm animal fur. You found yourself behind the sturdy door of one of the stalls, placing your tools in a bucket filled with lukewarm water. The horses startle when they hear the opening of stable doors before you, and you froze. Turning quickly to see him.

fuck. Shit.

You duck, hoping he hadn’t caught your eye behind the thin door of the stall.

As Joel approached, you couldn't resist the urge to observe him unnoticed. His confident stride and the set of his jaw spoke of a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. You crouched down slightly, peering through a small gap in the door, attempting to stay hidden.

Joel, engrossed in the routine of preparing his horse, seemed to sense your presence. His gaze flickered in your direction, and for a moment, you held your breath. However, his expression remained unreadable, and he continued his tasks as if he hadn't noticed.

The rhythmic sounds of grooming and the soft noises of the horses filled the air. You couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervous energy.

After a few moments, Joel finished tending to his horse and turned to leave the stable. As he passed your hiding spot, his eyes met yours for the briefest moment. There was a subtle acknowledgment in his gaze, one of hurt and one of anger.

Joel walked away without a word, and you emerged from your hiding spot, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anguish. If this is how you would now have to live your days in Jackson, you don’t know how much longer you would survive.

—

It’s been 21 days.

The warm aroma of roasted turkey filled the air, and the laughter of friends and miller family fun echoed through the spacious dining room. However, for you, the atmosphere was anything but festive. Being at the miller’s thanksgiving was anything but relaxing.

It’s been 21 days since you’ve had to endure Joel Miller.

You’ve done your best to avoid him, not seeing him at all, wondering if he knew better than to show up. Knowing you had Tommy to protect you, knowing everyone heard what he did to Vanessa, the whole town talked. And Tommy invited everyone to his thanksgiving. Joel would be brave to show his face, but you’ve always known him as anything but someone who’s scared to cause a little bit of trouble.

It’s been 21 days since you’ve been avoiding Joel Miller.

You stopped working at the bar, not for him, but because you knew he’d try and find you there. Knew it wasn’t something you wanted to do long term, and this just gave you an excuse to try something else. Now, you clean the stables bright and early, lucky to also avoid Joel when he picks up his horse every now and again for patrols. Your walks home are filled with a deep set regret for everything. Should you have heard him out? No. You knew better. You knew what kind of man he was, and would continue to be. You fight with yourself on it everyday, and your heart stops as you hear it,

It’s been 21 days since you heard his laugh. You won’t get to call it 22 days, and when you realize it’s him, you don’t look back. Pacing past the living room and to Tommy’s small bathroom. Your eyes bloodshot from too much shitty pinot noir.

—

The sound of the Thanksgiving celebration echoed through the Miller residence, but in the quiet refuge of the bathroom.

You were just splashing some water on your face, attempting to compose yourself amidst the chaos, when the door creaked open, revealing Joel Miller, his eyes narrowing as they met yours in the mirror.

"Didn't expect to find you here," Joel muttered, crossing his arms.

You turned off the faucet, swallowing hard before meeting his gaze. "I needed a moment," you replied, your voice steady but laced with unease.

"A moment, huh?" Joel scoffed, his tone cutting through the air.

"Funny how you seem to need a moment every time we're in the same room lately."

You averted your eyes, the memories of your last conversation with Joel resurfacing. The heated words, the accusations, and the unresolved tension had left a bitter taste that lingered.

"What are you even doing here, anyway?" Joel continued, his frustration palpable.

"Tommy invited me," you said, attempting to keep your voice level. "I'm not here to ruin your family dinner, Joel."

He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "Ruining it? You already did that weeks ago."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. "Joel, can we not do this right now? It's Thanksgiving, for God's sake."

"Thanksgiving?" he scoffed again. "A lot to be thankful for, right? Like the way you disappeared without a word."

You clenched your fists, the guilt and frustration mounting. "It wasn't like that, Joel. You know it's complicated."

"Complicated? You think I don't get it?" he snapped, his voice rising. "But that doesn't excuse shutting me out completely."

Silence hung between you like a heavy fog, the distance growing even in the confined space of the bathroom. The distant laughter and chatter from the dinner table seemed a world away.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the distant laughter and music from inside. Joel broke the quiet, his voice softer than before.

"I didn't want things to end like this, you know?" he admitted, running a hand through his hair.

"Me neither," you replied, avoiding eye contact.

Joel's jaw clenched, and he looked away, frustration etched across his face. The distance between you felt insurmountable,

He stepped closer, his hand finding yours. "I've been a jerk, haven't I?" he took his olive branch moment, hoping you would extend a white flag as well.

And in that moment, his dark eyes caught yours, and your heart dropped. You wanted your Joel back, you wanted to collapse and give up whatever game you were playing. You needed him, you wanted him.

It’s been 21 days too long without Joel Miller,

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Maybe a little."

Joel chuckled, a hint of relief in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let things get this far."

"And I should have communicated better," you admitted, squeezing his hand.

He nodded, a sincerity in his gaze. "Can we start over? Forget the fights and just... be us again?"

You smiled, feeling the weight lifting. "I'd like that."

"So, what now?" Joel asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

You smirked. "Well, I was thinking we could be lovey-dovey in the bathroom."

He laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "Lovey-dovey, huh?"

"Yeah," you teased, "like in the good old days."

Joel tilted his head, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I wouldn’t call what we do in bathrooms lovey-dovey, darlin’.” his hand wraps in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, gently suckling a bruise there,

“But I’ll warn you,” his warm and wet breath spread throughout your neck as he smiles against your skin,

“I think I need to make this filthy mouth of yours beg, and never talk back to me again.”

You hummed in approval, moaning silently, “Impossible.” you teased,

Joel let go of your hair, hands now sliding down your body and giving your hips a bruising grip to remember,

“Always so mouthy, baby girl. Can’t be now with the town downstairs cutting the stuffing,” he bites his bottom lip, quickly swatting at your ass, a loud smack echoing off the walls as you squeal in surprise,

You shot him a quick glance, your usual sarcastic retort momentarily absent. Instead, you shrugged, feigning innocence.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" Joel chuckled,

You shot him a mock glare, finally finding your voice. "Very funny, Joel. I can be quiet if I want to."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his eyes. "Sure, but that requires a well-behaved version of yourself."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the back of Joel’s head, your hands locked in his hair–

"I can be well-behaved when I want to be."

Joel smirked, pushing your bodies closer. "And do you want to be right now?"

You giggle slightly, nodding your head “no” slowly,

—

You both have to be really, really quiet. Moving from the bathroom into a room that looks alot like..shit. This is Tommy’s bedroom.

“Really..” you squint, not having much time to speak as Joel is already pushing you back onto the queen sized bed behind you,

“Fucking me in your brothers bed?” you smile into the kisses Joel has been smothering you with, sucking your bottom lip as he pulls away from you, lifting his shirt up and off of his toned body.

“Someones gotta get some in here.” he jokes, smirking down at you as he takes his belt off quickly,

Joel goes back to devouring you, pulling your brown dress up to lay at your waist, exposing your clothed cunt to him. His eyes go darker as he pulls your legs apart so easily, sucking in air as he tilts his head to look at you. His permanent scowl plastered on his face as he focused in on your pussy.

“Baby,” he puts one of your legs down as he uses his thumb to rub against where your clit is beneath your underwear. His palm against your mound as he does so.

You moan out, squirming in his grasp, “Joel, I missed you,” you whine,

Joel leaned over, his bulge met your core as he began kissing you against. Both your moans being captured by each other's mouths. Dry humping each other in the process,

Confidence suddenly burst inside of you, holding his shoulders as you pushed your hips up as hard as you could, moving them in circular motion, hearing a small groan escape from Joel’s lips,

“Fuck” he groans in your ear,

“Gonna take this fuckin’ i give you?” he questioned rhetorically, because you didn’t get a say on whether you were taking it or not.

Pushing himself off of you, he now towered over you. Leaving you on your back with your legs spread open,

“Take these off, now” Joel pulled at the top of your panties, snapping them against your skin harshly.

You obeyed quickly, while watching him release himself, a long thick cock hanging out of his pants, warranting a gasp from you, feeling your own juices flow from you, staining the bedding beneath you,

Your reaction seemed to satisfy Joel, who was watching you as if you were prey,

“I want you. I want you right now.” his voice deep, dripping with lust as he walked back to you, grabbing your legs and dragging you to the edge of the bed, hearing you squeak as he did so.

He flipped you over, and your ass was up in the air, your entrance glistening for him, he couldn’t help himself, and that’s when you jumped forward screaming loudly as you felt a stinging sensation on your cunt. Joel’s hand vibrating off of the skin there,

“Not so quiet after all, honey?” he mocked you, rubbing anything that leaked from you back on your clit, you moaned lowly, soon turning it into a loud moan as you felt the thick head of his cock rub against you, teasing your entrance, dipping the tip in, causing you to grip the navy blue sheets beneath you, moving up with each tease.

“Don’t run from me.” he stated gruffly, and you turned to look at him, his wavy locks falling beside his face, his eyes caught yours, winking as he pushed inside of you, stretching you far enough to feel as if your insides were burning. “F-fuckOH” he was enjoying the way your cunt spazzed around him, feeling his cock enlarge even more at the way you pulsed for him,

Joel began thrusting harder, pushing your body forward with every hard snap of his hips, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Your body was on fire, feeling your heart sink as he bottomed out inside of you. With every thrust he tore into you further. Your body invites him in more as you feel yourself drown him with your cum, his cock becoming adjusted to you, taking advantage of every shake and squeeze.

“Joel–, fuck, faster,--” you felt your feet levitate off he ground, him holding your hold bottom half up as he obeyed your request, laughing at your whimpers. Your feet now dangling as he manhandles your body, fucking down into you as he grunts, his balls hitting against your clit and causing you to spasm even harder around him.

“Take it, baby.” his hips snapped harder into you, the room filled with panting and the loud clapping of your skin against his, moaning into the bed as you felt your release coming closer as he reached around you to rub your clit, moaning with you as you began letting go for him, feeling something inside of you begin to snap, you tried grabbing behind you, but he pulled your hand against your back, pushing your body further into the cushion as your pussy convulsed, and you came on him, shaking as he walked you through you orgasm,

“Cum around me just like that.”

“Darlin’ you feel so good, you’re doing so well.”

“Your cunts meant to take it like this.”

Joel’s low voice barely noticed as your ears rang from how hard you had cum. Joel following after shortly,

“Shit. Shit.”

“S–Shit, so, fucking good.” Screaming your name as he produced enough cum to cover your cunt and your ass entirely.

You were panting heavy as he fell on top of you, completely fucked out as his limp dick sat against your back. Joel is still in bliss, moving your hair away from the back of your neck and kissing along it, slightly humming into your glistening skin.

His lips only leave your skin to whisper to you in his daze,

“ s’ gonna be pissed if he finds out what happened here.”

You both laugh at the uncomfortable reality of this. You both will eventually have to get up and face the crowd. But for just a few more moments, you let yourself feel the comfort of being smothered under Joel’s body.

—

It’s been 21 minutes.

The door creaked open, and you and Joel stepped out of the bedroom, both wearing wide grins that couldn't be contained. The sound of Thanksgiving chatter from downstairs seemed muffled in comparison to the joy that radiated between you two.

As you descended the stairs, hand in hand, Tommy looked up from the crowded living room. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your shared happiness.

"What's got you two looking so... giddy?" Tommy asked, a curious smile playing on his lips.

Joel chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with you. "Oh, you know, just enjoying some quiet time away from Bill's stories."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's all?"

You couldn't help but giggle, feeling the need to share your newfound joy. "Well, we might've had a little heart-to-heart. It's Thanksgiving, after all."

Tommy's eyes widened, a sly grin forming. "A heart-to-heart, huh?”

Joel laughed, playfully nudging you.

Tommy continued to scrutinize you both, but his teasing demeanor softened. "Well, as long as you're happy." you both smiled at him,

“And as long as it wasn’t in my room.”

You exchanged a glance with Joel, your smiles widening.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller x you #frankie morales #din djarin

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anonymous-dentist · 4 months

Text

Okay am I crazy or something because why do I see people referring to qQuackity as qWilbur’s husband like genuinely seriously despite:

Quackity not marrying Actual Wilbur and instead marrying Photo Wilbur

Quackity marrying Photo Wilbur during Festa Junina, which is known for its fake weddings

Wilbur hearing about the wedding when he came back and going “Well, I don’t feel married”

Quackity’s feelings toward Wilbur regarding the ‘marriage’ basically being him projecting after Tilin’s death and while watching everyone around him find happiness where he could not, specifically Roier and Cellbit and possibly because Roier had just lost his own child but didn’t seem to be having all these problems Quackity had

Like if you go back and watch Q’s streams from this time, he even subtly admits that he doesn’t love Wilbur when he spoke to SOFIA

Wilbur wasn’t even his first choice! Etoiles was!

Wilbur not even knowing if he loves Quackity. He feels Emotions towards him, but he’s always refused to look any deeper because of his Issues (similar Issues to those he has regarding Tallulah, which is that he’s always going to be away on tour and can’t be there to love and care for his family the way they deserve to be loved)

And, lest we all forget, Quackity still might not entirely remember who Wilbur is because of his amnesia. (Granted, a lot of that seems to have been fixed by Spooky Cucurucho in Hell, but we don’t know the extent.)

So, with all this in mind, why do I see people getting legitimately upset when someone doesn’t include Quackity in Wilbur’s family as his husband?

And we’ve got to keep in mind that Wilbur’s only canon family is Phil, who he adopted as his father on the train, Tallulah, his daughter, and Chayanne, his half-brother. Techno and Tommy are family irl (because irl Wilbur Soot collects found family members like they’re Pokémon cards.)

So why do I see stuff like this?

ElQuackity isn’t a canon brother, Q is quite possibly ElQ’s clone (or something like that.) Tilin always seemed to prefer the idea of Luzu being their father, and people have got to remember that Luzu IS canonically Tilin’s other parent. Pepito doesn’t even know Wilbur exists. And what about Quackity’s other son, Richarlyson? (Oh, wait, never mind, Richas is Brazilian, and a lot of the English fandom does Not like associating Quackity with the Brazilians on the server.)

Honestly, this all gives the same vibes as “Omg Wilbur can teach Q how to read again and they can live happily ever after with their ONLY CHILD Tallulah 🥰” and “Wilbur would know Quackity was replaced by ElQ immediately and he’d rescue Quackity because they’re in love and married” when that ignores actual canon dynamics

Anyway, this is all to say that you can ship what you want, but don’t let your fanon get in the way of everything else. Fanon is fine, but don’t get pissy when people say it isn’t canon, and please stop messing with the wiki to make it canon because it isn’t. And don’t harass people saying it isn’t canon, that’s fucked up

#every day I wake up

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Christmas Vibes

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: nostalgia, age gap, horrible attempt to capture joel’s accent (fuck), just christmas fluff :)

a/n this kicks off my joel stories in preperation for tlou show on hbo max starting jan 15! enjoy and have a happy holidays. please tell me you understand the vibe aspect (triangle, purple, thursday, the number 4, blueberry pie) bc if not i am just really undiagnosed.

summary Joel tries to make Christmas special for Y/N once again

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 4 mins 59 seconds

“It’s snowing,” you sighed, looking at your reflection in your window. The street lamp lights outside were plagued with the falling snow.

“Never liked winter,” Joel shuttered, taking off his jeans. You heard his belt clank as it hit the hamper. “Really? Not even Christmas?” you asked, playing with a strand of your hair with your gaze still locked outside.

“Sarah always loved it. I liked seeing her happy so I tolerated it.” Joel sighed. You could see the reflection of his flannel pajama pants in the window. You were touched that he mentioned Sarah. He rarely did. Even if you slept in the same room with that eerie photo of the two of them together staring at you, you never dared pushing the subject.

“What did she like?” you asked, testing the waters. “Hmm,” Joel thought. “When she was real young she loved Santa. Her grandpa would come around every year dressed up as ‘em. I’ll never forget her face every year when he would come.”

You nodded, not sure what to say. “I miss Christmas.” you sighed, sitting down next to Joel in the bed. “How many did you get? Before…”

“12.” you sighed. “My mom would always go out and cut us down a tree. I sometimes think about the smell of a real tree. It’s much different when the tree is in the woods versus your living room. I miss it. Every time it gets cold like this, my memories come back and it makes me hate this damned broken world even more.” you sighed, laying down on your back and staring at the ceiling.

“We always had fake trees,” Joel commented, flicking off the lamp. He was unsure on how to respond to you, so he tried to take your mind off the bitterness of the memories.

“You give fake tree vibes.” you told Joel, reaching for his hand in the sheets. “How can one give fake tree vibes?” “You just do.” “Explain?” he asked, grabbing your hand tightly “There’s no explanation. Just like how Maria gives off former yoga teacher vibes,”

He stopped and thought for a moment. “Well I’ll be damned, she really do.” “Told ya.” “Go to sleep,” he sighed. “She most definitely had a pixie cut when the world wasn’t shit,” you added.

“Where does your mind come up with these things?” Joel chuckled. “Ellie and I had a very intense conversation about it on patrol a few days ago. Just like how Tommy gives off cinnamon raisin bread vibes.”

“Stop that,” Joel insisted, shuffling in bed. “It’s too accurate. Freakin’ me out.”

“Maybe she has a dragonfly tattoo too. Somewhere special where only Tommy knows. Very yoga teacher-ish.”

“Go to bed Y/N.” Joel huffed, slamming his eyes shut.

Joel didn’t even know why he was doing this. He didn’t even like Christmas when the world was still normal.

But he liked you sure of a hell lot more than he hated Christmas.

His back ached as he dragged the tree through the gates of Jackson. He had picked out the greenest tree he could find and cut it down. The horse would have been useless with a close to 120 pound tree (he estimated).

“Need some help?” Tommy chuckled, arms crossed amused watching his brother lug in a tree. “S’pose I could,” he hissed at him, dragging the stem of the tree against the dirt ground. “All this for a woman?” Tommy asked, lifting the muddy end of the tree. “Your tellin’ me you wouldn’t do this for Maria?” “Maria wouldn’t want it,” “Well if she did?”

Tommy paused for a second to think. “Hell no,”

The tree barely fit in the door to your house. Joel cringed at all the needles he was going to have to pick up after this.

“Got her in?” Tommy asked, entering the house with the end of the tree still in his grips.

Tommy saw the makeshift tree holder and set the tree in the metal hole. Joel propped it up, holding the tree up for Tommy to bolt the tree to the metal plate.

The two of them now out of breathe took a step back to see the enormous tree.

“I think you may have underestimated the size of your house, big brother.” Tommy said, patting Joel on the back.

Joel’s eyes were glued to the top of the tree pressed against the ceiling and jutting outward.

His arms were crossed with one hand rubbing his brow. “She’s gonna hate it,” he muttered. “I think it’s rather cute. Quirky if you ask me. She likes that shit, don’t she?” Tommy re assured his brother.

“Should I cut it?” Joel asked. “Nah. You went out and did the dirty work. If she doesn’t appreciate it, she doesn’t deserve it. I always got a lighter if you need it.” he suggested.

Joel swept the needles up from the ground in preparation of your return. You had spent the day distracted by Ellie. The kids were having a winter festival down in the square and you two were volunteering.

Joel most definitely owed Ellie one after this.

He found the red and green blankets from storage and placed them on the couch. Holiday decorations were rare to find (minus halloween) and he was trying his best.

He was in the middle of fluffing the pillows when he heard the old door creek open.

A sudden gasp came from you as your hand clasped over your mouth. “What is this?” you asked, a smile widening on your face.

“I know it ain’t perfect, I didn’t measure right but it’s…”

“Joel, it’s perfect.” you insisted, wrapping your hands around the man who was cowering in embarrassment. “It’s too tall, the tree ain’t right.”

“Shh,” you shushed him, wrapping an arm around his rib cage. “I love it,” you muffled into his chest.

“Oh!” you said, suddenly realizing what you had done that day.

You and Ellie had made strings of snowflakes all day with the kids.

The white paper cut outs strung perfectly around the tree.

“Careful there,” Joel said, balancing you as you stood on your tippy toes to reach the top. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready for-”

Joel hoisted you up by your waist erupting a squeal from you. “Joel!” you laughed, squirming in his reach.

“String…‘em,” he demanded with his raspy voice, struggling holding you in his grip. As you strung the paper around the branches, needles dropped down. Specifically on Joel.

“What are you doing?” you asked after hearing the noise of Joel spitting. “Them damn needles- in my face.” he grunted, finally letting you down.

A tiny laugh came from you as you faced him once again. “What’s so funny?” he asked. You carefully plucked the stray needles out of his bushy eyebrows, making sure they didn’t fall in his eyes. “All better now,” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

“I’m surprised your not covered in sap,” you commented, sitting down on your comfy couch in Joel’s arms. You handed him his cup of coffee. “Showered ‘for you got home,”

“What if I wanted you covered in sap?” you asked, staring up at the tree. “What?” Joel asked, confused. “So I could have washed it off of ya.”

Joel sucked his teeth. “It’s a damn shame,” he sighed, taking a sip of his coffee.

“And you brought this in all by yourself?” you asked, grabbing Joel’s bicep. “Mhm,” he lied, taking Tommy’s credit. “My strong man,” you said, folding closer into his body.

“Thank you, Joel.” you sighed, remembering the previous night. “It’s just like old times.” “Well, I’m glad you like it,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“It gives off Christmas vibes,” Joel said, very proud of himself. “Yes Joel, sure. It gives Christmas vibes.” You chuckled, enamored at his attempt to understand your humor.

“Just like how Ellie gives off the vibe that she can only wear red socks on a Friday.”

“Stop that shit already,”

“And how when the world wasn’t like this, Tommy probably had shit credit.”

“He did,” Joel laughed. “Stop it now, your still freaking me out.”

“You brought it up!”

“Yeah, because it was funny when I did it.”

“Yes Joel. Hilarious.”

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry

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darthenderson · 11 months

Text

So, I went back and rewatched Boy Meets World and Girl Meets World (at the same time). Heres the thoughts:

I watched Girl Meets World before (when it came out in like middle school/high school; I’m in college now so it’s been a while) and since I’m a Boy Meets World fan I thought I would go back and rewatch it.

Boy Meets World is amazing. The storylines, the characters, everything else; I will always love that show and I often rewatch it.

Girl Meets World is 95% hot fucking garbage. Like I get it’s a Disney channel show- it’s not going to be the greatest thing ever- but good god this is a mess. The writers didn’t really get to tell the story they wanted because of Disney, at least I hope that’s what happened instead of actually thinking that this would be on the same level as Boy Meets World.

—————-

The 5% of the show I enjoyed was:

- Eric’s episodes

- Eric and Tommy’s reunion

- Eric and Jack’s reunion

- Seeing more of Cory and Topanga’s relationship

- Some of Shawn’s episodes

- Some of Farkle, Smackle, or Maya’s scenes (definitely not a lot of them though)

- Stuart Minkus’ appearances (and Jennifer too)

- Feeny and the other original characters making cameos too

———-

The rest of Girl Meets World I kinda hated.

For example:

- they did Angela dirty (like, wtf? They acted like she wasn’t close friends with Cory, Topanga, and the other characters before she left in Boy Meets World; it seemed like they made some of the characters mad at her (Riley) for no reason at all, she did nothing wrong in my opinion. And I would have loved to see more of her, like as an Aunt to Riley and Auggie or something)

- they did Jack dirty too (he would’ve definitely stayed in contact with at least Eric and Shawn, being as close as they were on Boy Meets World. And why wasn’t he at Shawn’s wedding? Also, we should’ve seen more of him after the semi formal episode, and jeric should have happened)

- no Rachel appearances (I would have loved to see her again, and she did stay in contact with Eric, as mentioned in the show, so she could’ve come back)

- the annoying ass Riley, Maya, Lucas love triangle

- the fact that they still didn’t make jeric happen (I need them to happen. They would be so cute! Just look at them:⬇️)

- Mr Turner not having more scenes (I hated that he wasn’t at Shawn’s wedding- like we knew he was in NYC, he could’ve been there- and that he wasn’t in more scenes, especially ones with Shawn)

- the whole “Maya is turning into Riley and they have to stop it” arc. (It was- like the love triangle- annoying, long, and unnecessary. And people do change in high school- and often do a full 180 to their personality; I know I did, and on the Boy Meets World universe Harley Kenner did too. I didn’t even notice the change until it was outright said on the show, and I think the characters discouraging this was just wrong. Yes, Maya did change a lot throughout the show, but that is good. It shows growth, it shows a character arc, that her life is getting brighter and she has more hope, and I still saw Maya as the same character at that point. Anyway, I think that this whole arc was just bad, but I think that Maya still was a good character- she was just poorly written sometimes)

And let’s not forget the two biggest reasons I hate this sequel:

- Joshaya (that relationship was creepy as hell now that I’ve watched the show as an adult, in middle school I didn’t really see why people disliked it, but now I get it. I mean at the end of the series Josh is a FRESHMAN IN COLLEGE (around 18) and Maya is a FRESHMAN IN HIGH SCHOOL (around 14 or 15), them doing what they do on the show is illegal. And Josh saying that he’ll “play the long game” too and wait for her? Ew. Just ew. That makes it so much worse; it implies that he’s waiting until she’s 18 or in college and that’s just disturbing and disgusting for a Disney channel show and in general. Overall: Joshaya is gross and illegal and should’ve never been a thing and other characters should not have encouraged it on the show)

- “Girl Meets Farkle” (the infamous autism focused episode. I loved the fact that it had representation for autism, but I hated the way this episode was handled and written. This was by far the worst part of the show for me. I hated the way that some of the characters (Riley, Maya, Lucas) reacted when Farkle said he might be autistic. They acted like it was some horrible thing to be autistic, (which- as a human being and recently diagnosed person with autism- I found offensive) seriously they acted like autism was going to kill him (I’m not joking, that’s how they reacted) and they even went as far as to make Farkle mask who he was in one scene when Farkle said that he identified with some signs of autism. Like, all he wanted was support from his friends when he was getting tested and figuring things out, and all he got was hate from them. And I hate that other characters (and the writers of the show) didn’t see this too and change things or put a stop to it. They also used some outdated language to describe the spectrum on the show, which didn’t help things at all. For a lot of people and viewers, this was the first time they really learned about or saw anything about the spectrum and autism and this is just a horrible way to learn about this. Additionally, I loved Smackle’s whole story and telling how she got diagnosed, but I hated how some characters (Riley and sometimes Maya) treated her throughout the show. As an example: Smackle, as shown in the series, doesn’t often like hugs or physical contact (like me sometimes) and she makes it known, but Riley still fucking tries to hug her constantly and it’s so irritating! I know that if I was having a moment like that, as I often do, and someone tried to hug me like that I would be very uncomfortable and upset, so this whole thing they do with those interactions on the show just pisses me off. Overall: this episode of the show was offensive and horrifying, mostly because of the way the show frames autism and the way that the other characters react to Farkle and his potential diagnosis and Smackle with her actual diagnosis.

—————

In conclusion to my long ass rant:

Me at Boy Meets World:

Me at Girl Meets World:

#thanks for coming to me Ted talk #I’m upset and hyperfixating and ranting #I hate girl meets world so much in case you couldn’t tell #boy meets world will always be my favorite #boy meets world #jeric #girl meets world #gmw #anti Joshaya #anti girl meets world #Shawn Hunter #cory matthews #eric matthews #maya hart #maya Hunter

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strawberrysands · 8 months

Text

Secret Love - Spencer Reid pt.1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 1,5k exactly lol

Warnings: Ususal criminal minds gore, talk of anxiety and panic attack

Summary of whole series: Reader joined the BAU not because she wanted to, but because she was forced to. For the sake of her younger brother, she has to lie to the best profilers in the world. How long can she keep this up?

If you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to do so with me. My dm's are always open :)

“We have a case." Hotch announced over the bullpen.

About a month ago, you had joined the BAU. And that month had been one of the most incredible ones of your life. If you could forget the fact that your little brother's life was on the line if you didn't do what was expected of you.

Before the FBI, you had worked at the CIA for roughly seven years at the department against sex crimes. Your supervisor, a woman named Anne Miller, had for some reason a huge interest in the BAU. She wanted to know EVERYTHING about everyone who worked there. Because you worked in your department the longest, she knew you and how to manipulate you the best.

"I have an offer." She had said about two months ago.

"An offer?" You had inquired, not sure where it would go.

"Come with me." Anne had guided you to an interrogation room, locking the door behind you.

"You're getting a transfer. To the FBI." She had stated. You had looked at her sheepishly, confused as to why the hell you got a transfer without you or anyone else requesting it.

"Why?" You had wanted to know.

"You don't ask questions." She had said sternly, suddenly being a completely different person than the woman you had gotten to know. Now it really seemed like she was interrogating you.

"You're going to the BAU." She had continued, "And you're going to find out EVERYTHING about everyone there. I want to know where they live, what their favorite food is, everything. Most importantly, I want you to get into Aaron Hotchner's life. His wife was killed not too long ago, and there are still suspicions around Hotchner killing Foyet. I want you to get to the bottom of it."

"Why would I do that?" You had said, not caring about what she said before. Then, something happened that you never could have imagined. Anne Miller, a gentle and caring woman, or so she seemed, slapped you right across the face.

"Was I not clear?" She'd hissed while you held your cheek in shock. "You don't ask questions. Besides, this little guy's life is on the line. Is that no reason enough?"

She had slid you a picture of you and your little brother, Tommy. You couldn't help it; a single tear slid down your face.

"What?" You had whispered, astonished. "Please, don't hurt him." You pleaded with her.

"I won't." She had said coldly. "As long as you do exactly as I say."

"Why are you doing this? What happened to you?" Your voice trembled, daring to ask a question.

"The 'why' is none of your business. Now, you transfer in a month to Virginia. I'd say, spend your free time with Tommy. Virginia is a long way from Georgia, and if you don't do as I asked, well..." She ripped the picture in half, sending a clear enough message of what would happen.

You got up from your desk and headed to the conference room where Garcia had already put up pictures of the bodies.

"3 women were found dead in Atlanta, Georgia." Garcia started.

"Looks like just any murder to me. Why'd they call in the BAU?" Derek asked.

"Because," Garcia continued, turning away from the board, and clicking her remote, "they were missing their eyes."

Even though the pictures were horrifying, there was some sort of order to it.

"Looks like the eyes are surgically removed, not just ripped out." You remarked.

"So does he have anatomical knowledge?" Prentiss wondered out loud.

"You know, 'no eyes' represents privacy, anonymity, and visual censorship. It suggests the idea that one can remain hidden or unidentified." Reid said, making you smile at his wits.

"So, he wants his victims to remain unidentified?" Rossi wondered.

"Or more literally; he just doesn't want his victims to see." JJ remarked.

"See what? Getting killed? Most sexual sadists get off on the victim witnessing their torture." You countered, and now it was Reid's turn to be impressed.

"Or he felt remorse. Maybe he took their eyes out after the kill because they saw their torture." Morgan added.

"There isn't really any sign of torture other than their eyes though..." Prentiss stated the obvious.

"Alright, looks like we're going to Georgia. Wheels up in thirty." Hotch said.

"You ready?" Derek asked you back at the bullpen.

"For what?" You asked, confused.

"Your first case."

You frowned. "This isn't the first case I've done since I'm here."

"Yeah sure, but it's the first one out of state. You know, with the jet and all."

You smiled. "Yeah, I'm not a bad flyer." That was a straight lie through your teeth. You hated flying; you were terrified of it.

"Good. It can get bumpy sometimes." Morgan said with a toothy grin.

You chuckled uncomfortably and noticed Reid frown at you, and he came towards you.

"It's okay to not like flying, you know." He said with a comforting smile.

"Oh, I know. I get nauseous sometimes, that's all." You said, and he seemed to believe your lie.

"I'm sure you'll be fine." He said, placing a hand on your lower back for a few seconds before leaving to get his go-bag.

You stood there frozen for a few seconds with a giddy smile on your face. The place his hand had been just a few seconds earlier felt like it was on fire.

What you didn't notice however, was JJ and Emily stood a few meters away, grinning stupidly at the little interaction.

On the way to the plane though, you couldn't help but let one of your nervous ticks shine through. Your leg started bouncing in the car, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.

Spencer noticed since he was sitting right next to you and placed his hand on your thigh.

"You okay?" He whispered, and your leg immediately stilled. The warmth of his hand was enough to make your insides melt.

You shrugged. "Of course."

He gave your thigh one last squeeze before retracting his hand, almost making you pout.

"Alright Garcia, what do you have?" JJ asked through the webcam on the plane. You felt uneasy and tried to focus on the case to make it go away.

"The three women were all from central Atlanta, all in their 30s to 40s, and all married. They also had at least one child each." Garcia said.

"So, marriage and children are the only similarity? Nothing in their jobs, hobbies...?" Rossi wondered.

"Well, apart from their similar looks, nada nopes, my loves." She replied.

"Alright. JJ, I want you and Dave to come with me to set up at the field office in Atlanta." Hotch announced. "Prentiss and Morgan, I want you to go to the crime scene. Reid, you, and Y/l/n go to the coroner. See if there's anything they missed."

Everyone agreed to their jobs and settled in to try and get some rest before the plane landed. You, however, felt your flight anxiety bubble up again.

"I'm going to the bathroom." You announced, wobbly on your feet. You don't quite remember walking to the bathroom; suddenly you were sat on the floor of the bathroom breathing heavily. Everything suddenly just came down on you; the stupid plane, the case, and most of all, the danger your brother was in. Tears started sliding down your face as you covered your mouth with your hands to minimize the sounds you were making.

"Y/n?" You heard softly outside the door. Spencer. Fuck. What the hell were you supposed to do? You couldn't focus anymore; the walls were closing in on you. Suddenly, you saw Spencer's face in front of you. You saw his lips move but couldn't make out what he was saying. All you knew was that you were gasping for air and that it didn't seem to come to you.

"Breathe, y/n, breathe. You're okay. I've got you." He kept saying.

"In through your nose, out through your mouth. Wanna do it together?" He offered. And as stupid as it may have looked, you nodded and did the breathing exercise with him. Slowly, your vision started to turn normal again and you could see Spencer in front of you. His caramel eyes had something soothing.

"There you go. Welcome back." He said kindly. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

"Yeah." You breathed, letting out a sob.

He took your hands in his and slowly started rubbing circles with his fingers.

"Wanna talk about it?" He offered, but you immediately shook your head.

"That's okay." He smiled. "Don't worry about the team. They don't know what's going on." You sighed, another worry less. You wiped your tears of your face and hoped you looked half decent.

"Do I look okay to go back?" You asked.

"You look perfect." He said smoothly and your heart fluttered.

"Come on." He stood up and offered you his hand to pull you up. "We're about to land."

#fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader

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dethkomic · 8 months

Text

On Army of the Doomstar Day - And Remembering Jon Schnepp

Hey Goofballs. I didn't really have anything like this planned until the moment hit me, spontaneously. Today's a very special day, as Dethklok the live band gears up to go on tour, we've been blessed with not only a new Dethalbum, but a conclusion to the whole series. This being a momentous finale, over a decade in the making, I again wanted to take a minute to remember someone, just as I did last year..

Jon Schnepp was a guy you could pick out, even if it weren't for the fact that he was usually the tallest dude in any given crowd. He loved comics, music, good vegetarian food that didn't suck, and loved meeting his sweaty nerd fans. As a comic book artist myself, I had the rare privilege of meeting Jon on several occasions through the years at various comic conventions. We also kept in touch on social media, leaving likes and words of praise on each other's projects. Genuine to a fault, Jon was always the biggest fan of anything his friends were doing. He had impeccable comedic timing too. I'll never forget the message he sent me on Facebook when friends and I attended the first ever 70,000 Tons of Metal Cruise:

"I want to go... :("

For as big a Metalocalypse fan as I've been through the years, Jon absolutely eclipsed me in all ways. He loved the show, loved talking about the show, loved discussing production and animation and the characters, whose likenesses he himself designed. One of my prized possessions is a comic book Jon signed and drew a Murderface on the inside frontispiece of. We all agreed that triangle-hair was the pinnacle of good character art.

When he died in 2018, I remember he was either going to be at, or had recently attended a convention in my former hometown of Columbus, Ohio. I remember letting him know I wasn't going to be able to make it, but promising to catch him on the next one. I never got the chance.

Jon Schnepp left behind a hole in the cartoon and comic industry that has yet to be filled to this day. But he also leaves a hell of a legacy. I've been in comics since the early 2000's and one thing I can guarantee you readers is that the rarest thing in the entertainment industry is this: Getting the ability to see a story through to its conclusion.

As artists, it's a sad fact that we don't always get to see what we create come full-circle. We're extra-super lucky still, to have that circle continue on after we're gone. Regardless of what you believe, I bet it would do Jon proud to know his work lives on, today. I bet he'd love the movie and it's wild animation and incredible art and music and story. I bet he'd be happy to have that closure. I know he'd love hearing how much we all enjoyed it, knowing the wild ride we all took to get here.

Jon, we miss you, man. Brendon, Tommy, writers, artists, animators, and any and all sweaty nerds reading this -- you did it. We the fans love you and we'll see you on the road. Hold your heads high. You carried the torch across that finish line.

We'll take it from here.

#dethkomic speaks #metalocalypse #dethklok #mtl #army of the doomstar #metalocalypse movie #jon schnepp #in remembrance

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

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( 🥐 anon )

i'm rewatching season one and tommy is yelling at steve for "running away". it just made me think of eddie and how he criticized himself for running when chrissy got vecna'd.

what if eddie survived the upside down and steve is like "why didn't you run?" and eddie explains that he didn't know why, he just felt like he should fight. it reminds steve of that time he stopped running (when jonathan and nancy were attacked in the house).

i don't know where i am going with this, but i figured you might have something to add if you wanted. :D

Hello again :D

Oh my beloved parallel <333 I thought about this all day and ended up writing a lil something about it :)

---

'I've been meaning to ask you something for a while,' Steve says. He's sitting right next to Eddie's hospital bed, like he has been often these past days, keeping him company and making him laugh and helping him with every little thing. It sounds oddly serious and Eddie just frowns at him in response.

'Why didn't you run?'

The question hangs in the air between them for a couple of seconds. Then, Eddie scoffs. 'Says the guy who insisted on being the one at the front lines,' he retorts.

Instead of bickering back, Steve stares at him, seemingly taking his time to carefully consider what Eddie had meant to be a throwaway remark.

'You know, the first time all this shit went down... I kinda did the same,' he finally admits. 'It was Tommy, of all people, who got in my head. Told me that I was always running away. And that's exactly what I did when I saw what was going on at the Byers' house.'

Steve had told Eddie all about it, earlier: about how he showed up to apologize to Jonathan and instead got robed into that whole Upside Down shitshow.

'Nance told me to leave. She pointed a fucking gun at my face and told me to get the hell out. And then the lights started doing their freaky flashy stuff and I - I ran.' He sighs. 'And then I came back,' he adds quietly. 'So that's why you didn't run, too?'

'I kept thinking about Chrissy,' Eddie says, his voice barely more than a whisper. 'How I left her there to die. I couldn't - I just couldn't run away again. Simple as that.'

Steve keeps looking into his eyes intently, holding his gaze, as if he's searching for something. Eddie almost forgets to breathe, feeling exposed and vulnerable with those soft brown eyes on him and the silence around the two of them.

'I guess this is where I should say "please don't do that again next time",' Steve says, his voice sounding strangely choked as he cuts through the silence. 'But apparently we both know it's not that simple, huh?'

Eddie nods, still stunned under the intensity of Steve's gaze. He thinks back to how it felt when he thought he was dying. It had been terrifying and awful and goddamn painful more than anything else, obviously. But there had also been something that almost felt like relief. He knew, in that moment, that he could never go back to being a coward again. That he had faced it all and didn't regret trying to be better, trying to protect his people.

Maybe he should also be brave in a different way, he thinks. So he stretches out his hand, rests it on Steve's, and gently squeezes.

#thank you for asking <3 #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fruity ficlet #stranger things

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havecourage-darling · 2 years

Text

Firsts

AO3 | Part 1 of 12 (each chapter is a standalone)

>> Firsts: Panic Attack || masterlist

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Henderson!Reader

wc: 3.1K

warnings: none, some heavy kissing, drinking, cursing

A/N: Hi! It's me again, back on my bullshit, obsessed and inspired by your lovely messages. This follows the same eddie x henderson!reader from: Don't You (Forget About Me) and Object of My Desire. There are going to be 12 parts -- all detailing first time moments -- but they can all be read as standalones. Some intertwine with a later story idea I have (that I'm waiting for volume 2 to post!) this chapter has no S4 spoilers. Your comments, kudos, and messages give this adhd ridden hyperfixated weirdo life, tysm!

First Kiss

The first time you had kissed him, Eddie was almost sure he’d accidentally smoked a laced joint and had hallucinated the whole thing. Then, you’d snuck your hand into his hair and tugged his neck back. If that hadn’t been enough to turn him on, you had bit down on his neck – worrying the skin between your lips -- and Eddie was halfway in love.

His day had started normally. He’d spent all day in his mind-numbingly boring classes, eating lunch while terrorizing the cafeteria, sold some bud, and planned his next campaign. He didn’t think this was where he’d be by the end of it.

He promised Rick that he’d sell the rest of his stock to make room for some new stuff coming in next week. The best customers were none other than the seniors of Hawkins High. Fortunately for him, it was also the week of Halloween. While he normally wouldn’t be caught dead at any school dance, he knew it was his best bet. He’d hang around for an hour, sell out, and go home a happy guy. Maybe pick up some pizza and a movie for the night.

“Dude, I didn’t know you were here selling,” Jeff, his fellow Hellfire Club member, said just as he’d stepped into the gym.

“What are you dressed as?” Eddie asked, eyeing his outfit.

“Tommy Lee!” Jeff grinned at him, pulling out a pair of drumsticks. Eddie nodded, offering up his fist.

“That’s sick,” he said, glancing around the room. He caught a few odd stares, ignoring them, and a good amount of interested ones.

“Do me a favor dude,” Eddie, grabbed Jeff’s sleeve before his date could steal him away. “Spread the word that I’ve got some stuff to sell.”

Jeff shot the chaperone’s a look before nodding. “I got you man,” he slapped Eddie’s back before going off to the dance floor.

Eddie stationed himself at the edge of the bleachers, mostly hidden by some decorations. He grinned when a basketball player approached him after a few minutes. Typical.

“What are you supposed to be?” Eddie snorted, glancing at the pathetic costume.

“A cowboy,” the guy – Nick? Adam? – sneered. “You got any or what?”

“Or what,” Eddie muttered, handing him a small bag. “Same price.”

The cowboy handed him two pairs of freshly printed, crisp bills. “Pleasure doing business,” Eddie tilted his imaginary hat. Without a word, the cowboy turned on his heel and walked away. Oh the irony of being outcast by the top tier only to have them crawl to him for their needs.

Thirty minutes later, Eddie was all but sold out. He had two joints left but he knew he could smoke through them if he didn’t have any more buyers. Eddie ran a sweaty hand through his hair, why did the gym always feel like it was a thousand degrees, and caught sight of a teacher walking in his direction.

Without preamble, he ducked under the bleachers and waited her out.

“Munson?” A voice called out. Eddie whipped around, startled out of his fucking mind – who hell hides under the bleachers?

“Jesus fucking Christ Harrington, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” Eddie said, clutching at his heart dramatically. If he was going to be over the top, why stop because he was hiding?

Steve laughed, as if that was the most hilarious joke he’d ever heard. “Uh, Harrington?” Eddie called out, taking a few steps towards him. Steve was leaning against the wall, his legs sprawled and expression akin to someone who’d lost their puppy. As Eddie bent down, he wrinkled his nose. “Shit, Harrington, that’s some shitty tequila.”

“You want some?” He said, perking up. Eddie winced as his arm smacked into his side, the bottle sloshing. Eddie picked it out his hand before he could spill anymore. He sniffed it experimentally and shrugged, why not? He took a swig and fought the urge to spit it out. That, is why not, he thought to himself, gagging.

“This tastes like lighter fluid,” Eddie told him, “and I’m not exactly known for having refined taste.”

Steve grinned. “Good shit, right?”

“That was not a compliment,” Eddie told him, standing up. “Why are you piss drunk, dressed like Mario, at a school dance? Isn’t there somewhere, I don’t know, with less supervision that you could be doing this?”

“Nope,” Steve said, popping his lips obnoxiously. “Love sucks, man.”

Eddie fought the urge to roll his eyes. He’d heard that King Steve had broken up with the perfect Nancy Wheeler. He had a hard time believing that someone like Harrington couldn’t get another date, he drove around a BMW for shit’s sake.

“Hey, do you have any….” Steve trailed off, looking confused.

“Weed?”

Steve brightened, snapping his fingers and missing. “Yeah!”

“It’s your lucky day Harrington, I’ve got two joints left,” Eddie said, tossing one into his hands.

It took him a minute, but Steve handed him a few crumpled bills from the front pocket of his denim overalls. Eddie tried really hard not to contemplate his life.

“Steve Harrington!” A new, distinctly annoyed, voice cried out. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I turn around to dance for two seconds and you disappear.”

Eddie watched, a little awed, as you stomped over to them. Without hesitation, a pink heeled foot kicked Steve’s leg. “Get up you moping loser, you promised me dancing,” you said.

“I’m sad,” Steve whined, moving to stand regardless. Even Eddie rolled his eyes at that one. He should’ve known – Harrington seemed super glued to your side this year. Where you went, he usually followed.

“Go be sad on the dance floor!” You urged, hopping in one place, the pink dress around you moving fluidly with you.

Eddie tried his best not to let his eyes settle onto your chest but, he was only a mere mortal, and the more you bounced – the more your assets bounced with you.

A third voice joined the fray and Eddie ducked. You glanced at him, as if surprised he was there, and blinked. “Don’t worry,” you whispered, “Natasha’s not a narc.”

“Damn right I’m not,” the girl dressed like a skeleton said. She wrapped Steve’s arm around her shoulders and winced at his breath. “Jesus Harrington, can’t you hold your liquor?”

“Can you get him something to drink?” You asked her, your face wrinkling in worry. “He needs to sober up a little before we go home.”

“At this rate, Amelia’s the only one who hasn’t touched the stuff,” Natasha snorted, dragging Steve out from under the bleachers.

You turned to him and squinted. Eddie grinned, excited to have your attention. With a flourish, he bowed. “Pleasure to see you tonight, if you’re looking for some weed – you’re in luck. I’ve got one left,” he said.

“What are you dressed as?” You asked, completely ignoring his question. Eddie quirked his brow and realized that your eyes were also a little glazed over.

“As a demon cult leader, what do you think? Did I do okay?” Eddie turned in a circle, putting on his show. He turned back to you, expecting you to look annoyed or put off – like everyone in the popular crowd did when faced with himself. Eddie felt his whole-body freeze when he caught your heated stare. You dragged your gaze up his body and Eddie swore he felt it like a physical touch.

Well, that was new.

“I’d say you look good, but you usually do,” you said, stepping towards him. Eddie, instinctively, took a step back. Scared and turned on were a very weird, although not unheard of, combination for him.

“Back at you princess,” he said, trying not to sound breathless. What the fuck?

At that, you quirked your head. “Princess?”

Eddie smirked, letting his obvious gaze trail down your body. You were clearly dressed as Princess Peach, your yellow wig pulled back into a messy ponytail, although…

“From my recollection, Princess Peach never wore a dress that short,” he said, eyeing your legs. He braced himself for a scathing reply but found you laughing instead. What the hell was it about this holiday that made people go insane?

“Princess Peach never had to attend a dance in an old smelly gym,” you said matter-of-factly. “Short as it is, it still feels like it’s a thousand degrees in here.”

“It’s the testosterone and steroids from the basketball team,” Eddie quipped, raising his brow. “No offense to your boyfriend.”

“Steve Harrington is not my boyfriend,” you said, laughing like that was the funniest joke you’d ever heard. “He’s literally crying over his break up.”

“Weirder things have happened,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I’m pretty sure-”

“So, this might be the tequila,” you interrupted him, loudly, “but I really want to kiss you.”

Eddie would’ve been less surprised if you’d taken out a baseball bat and smacked him with it.

“Uh, how much tequila?” Eddie asked.

You shrugged, stepping closer to him, “enough to make me feel good, not enough to not know what I’m doing.”

“You know,” he said, pensive, “that is really good enough for me.”

“Great!” You said, throwing yourself at him.

Eddie winced as your foot collided with his ankle but quickly forgot about the pain when your lips pressed against his. He dropped his hands to your waist, the rough fabric bunching around his grip.

You tasted like tequila, fruit punch, and something else he couldn’t put his finger on. You were soft, so fucking soft, and pliant. Hands frantic, you fisted his collar as if assuring yourself he wasn’t going anywhere. Fucking zombies couldn’t pry him away with their cold dead hands.

Eddie felt you lean back for air, your eyes had a glint in them that he couldn’t describe and soon after, you’d pulled his head back by his hair. With his neck exposed, you latched on and Eddie desperately tried to remember that you’d both get in a lot of trouble if you were caught from the noises that were trying to claw out of him. Satisfied with the bruise you’d left, you beamed up at him and Eddie couldn’t help the fond smile he shot you back.

“Didn’t take you for a biter,” he said, thumb coming to swipe across your lower lip.

“I’m not usually, you’re just enjoyable,” you said nonchalantly and unaffected, like you weren’t just shaking up his entire world. Unable to help himself, he nipped at the crook of your neck and was rewarded with the most delicious sounding moan. He wanted to carve that noise into his memory.

You immediately pushed him back, eyes hooded, and lips swollen. The red bite he’d placed on your neck felt like a neon sign and he couldn’t help but feel turned on by it. Holy shit, he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Then, with a quick motion, you dropped to the floor. Eddie jerked forward, worried you’d tripped or something when he realized you were kneeling. He straightened and shot you a confused look.

“Come on,” you urged, placing a warm hand on his calf.

Come on what? He thought, still wildly confused. He watched your lips part and you looked up at him through your lashes. Eddie shifted, his dick trying to get in on the action as well. He froze. No…you couldn’t… Eddie dropped his gaze to you and you shifted your weight onto your heels, hands reaching for his belt.

“Don’t you want me to?” You asked, smiling sweetly up at him. Holy fucking shit, Eddie thought. Maybe he was hallucinating? There’s no way you – you of all people – were on your knees during a Halloween dance, under the bleachers, with him, dressed like goddamn wet dream, and offering him a blow job. He nodded absently, still dazed and trying to process this moment, and you beamed.

Your impatient hands fumbled with his studded belt and Eddie reached out to help you. He stepped back, needing the space to unbuckle his pants, and watched as you fell forward.

“Shit, are you okay?” Eddie asked, looking for what you tripped over.

“I may be drunker than I realized,” you said, giggling. Eddie felt his blood freeze. Fuck. Slowly, he untangled your hands from his waistband and lowered himself to the floor next to you. “Why’d you stop?”

Eddie sighed, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’m pretty sure, given your squeaky-clean reputation, you’re not the type to lightly offer up what you just did,” he bumped your nose with his and felt his stupid, idiotic, heart flip at the sight of your wide smile. “Definitely not sober at least.”

“I’ve only had one boyfriend before,” you whispered, falling over onto your butt. You blinked, as if shocked, and brought your gaze back to him. “We did stuff, I’m not some stumbling virgin.”

“I’m sure you’re an absolute minx,” Eddie said, biting back laughter at your serious nod.

“He said I was good,” you frowned, looking pensive. “Although, he was also a virgin when we met so maybe I wasn’t?”

Nothing like tequila to bring around an existential crisis and brutal honesty. He was sure this wasn’t something you’d be telling him if you were sober. Still, Eddie couldn’t handle your sad little frown. He placed a hand on your bare knee, flinching at how hot your skin was. Although he was the one who’d touched you, it felt like you had branded him.

In fact, he was pretty sure he’d be unable to forget about this interaction for a while. Now that you’d caught his attention, you weren’t likely to go anywhere. “I’m pretty sure you rocked his world and have no doubt you could rock mine too. Especially considering that that’s how you kiss when you’re drunk. Not sure if I can handle a sober one.”

You grinned, lighting up the entirety of this dirty dark corner – even a little piece of him. Fuck, how had he never noticed how pretty you were? He thought back on all the times he’d seen you around the school.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your friends,” Eddie said, lifting you up. You laughed, your breath fanning over the darkening hickey on his neck.

He knew you floated from group to group, notorious for having friends in every clique, club, and class. Shit, even Billy Hargrove seemed to have an eye on you – not that you’d accepted any of his advances. Jeff had almost peed himself laughing when you’d kneed him in the balls for trying to cage you in by your locker before homeroom.

Anyone with eyes knew how hot you were, Gareth had even mentioned it a few times – especially in Physics, the only class you shared with them. You seemed to always have a sarcastic quip or friendly jab at the ready. Good grades, popular, sarcastic, and ready to throw a punch was exactly what he liked about you and exactly what put you so far out his league it was painful.

He emerged from the bleachers with a glance around the gym and tried to find your friends from earlier. One of your fingers trailed down his abdomen, your lips pressing an open mouthed kiss to his neck, and he groaned. Out of his league or not, you had been the one to come onto him. Because she’s drunk, Eddie’s stupidly moral mind reminded him. But what if she is interested? You obviously weren't wound as tight as Wheeler but was clearly not someone who offered without thought. Tequila did have a way of changing people though…

As he dropped you off next to a slumped Harrington, he caught the eye of the skeleton girl from earlier. She shot Eddie a thumbs up and started to make her way to the table.

“Hey,” he squatted down next to you.

“Hey handsome,” you said, giggling again.

Eddie really needed to get a fucking grip. He’d barely spared you much thought before tonight and in fifteen minutes you’d all but carved your name into his skin. What’s worse? He didn’t mind a bit. Shit, he really was a loser.

“I’m gonna go,” he said, “you gotta keep an eye on Harrington, okay? Your friend is on her way over to make sure you’re okay.”

“You don’t want to dance with me?” You asked, wide, beautiful eyes stabbing at his conscience.

“You’re a little too drunk for that right now, okay?” Eddie tugged a lock of your synthetic hair. “I’ll save you a dance at the next party.”

You nodded, trusting him entirely, and wobbled in your seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” You squinted.

Eddie huffed a laugh. “Tomorrow is Saturday princess. I’ll see you Monday,” he added quickly when you frowned sadly.

“Don’t forget about me,” you stumbled, hand still clenched around his, “promise?”

“Sweetheart, I’m absolutely positive that this night is branded into my memory for life,” he said, standing and pressing a kiss to your temple. Last one.

“Bye cult leader,” you whispered, laughing at your own joke. Skeleton girl dropped into the seat between them and exhaled.

“Thanks Munson, I owe you one,” she said.

Eddie waved away her gratitude and took one last look at his Princess Peach.

“See ya,” he said, forcing himself to walk away. He’d barely made it to the doors when Jeff all but jumped him.

“Dude, what the hell were you doing with Henderson?” Jeff asked.

Henderson? Aw shit, that was Dustin’s older sister. Eddie groaned; he’d completely forgotten. In his defense, most of his blood was firmly south of the border.

Jeff blinked at him, waiting for an answer and Eddie…hesitated. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to keep tonight to himself. “Harrington was buying and Henderson followed. They’re drunk and I was just helping her back to her table.”

“Which is why you kissed her?”

“What?” Eddie froze.

Jeff eyed him. “I saw you; you kissed her forehead. I’m amazed she didn’t threaten to cut off your dick. Henderson’s cool but I wouldn’t fuck with her.”

Eddie exhaled, relieved. “Right. Uh, I don’t know. You know me man, I’m crazy.”

“Shit, I didn’t think you were that crazy,” Jeff said, shaking his head. “Respect man.”

“I’ll see you Monday,” Eddie said, “I’m out of here.”

“Later dude!”

Eddie took one last look at your table, where you were being force fed some food before disappearing out the doors. He brought his fingers up to his neck like he could still feel the ghost of your lips as you nipped him. Eddie hopped into his car and finally relaxed into his seat.

What a fucking night.

>> Firsts: Panic Attack, Part 2

A/N: guys, I also am very aware that I messed up the timeline for S3, S4 and when Don't You (Forget About Me) happens so we're just gonna smile and wave like that little mistake isn't there lol in my defense, I didn't think I was going to build a whole series around that one shot! muaha, I fixed it!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #reader insert #stranger things

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morallyinept · 2 months

Text

A full transcribe of JOEL MILLER'S dialogue/lines from the TV show THE LAST OF US.

EPISODE 9 - LOOK FOR THE LIGHT

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

Ellie. Ellie. Ellie! Did ya hear me?

Well, I found this in there. Beefaroni. Chef Boyardee.

And have you ever played this? Boggle? It’s a word game.

If you wanna beat me at somethin’, it would be this.

Well, alright then. We’re gettin’ close.

Hospital that way. May be the one we’re lookin’ for.

Take this for me? Thanks.

They had a guitar in that RV. It was all smashed up, but got me thinkin’, maybe I should find one. I haven’t played in forever. In fact, I was thinkin’ maybe I could teach you. I bet you’d be great at it.

Do you wanna learn how to play guitar? Ellie?

__________________

Okay, so this is what I’m thinkin’-

Uh… actually, this time I was thinkin’ we blast our way through that rubble. I found some dynamite in that RV back there.

No, so we’re gonna cut through that building, find a skyscraper, go up and look around. But I had you goin’, didn’t I?

__________________

Look at this place. Talk about bad luck. Military drops bombs, not one of them hits the building you’re trying to demolish. No way up.

If I get you up there, you can drop that ladder down, maybe we go through that way. Come on, I’ll give you a boost.

You okay?

It’s just you kinda seem extra quiet today, so…

No, it’s fine. Did you hear what I-

One, two… up!

Ya got it?

Goddamn it, Ellie! Shit. You stay there!

Ellie?!

Ellie!

Ellie. Just wait. Goddamn it.

I won’t.

It’s alright. Come here, hurry up. Come on.

Okay.

So… is it everything ya hoped for?

Look, I don’t know exactly where this hospital is-

Sure, it’s just… Maybe there’s nothin’ bad out there, but so far there’s always been somethin’ bad out there.

I know. I’m only saying there’s a risk. We don’t have to do this. I just… I want you to know that.

Nothin’. We just go back to Tommy’s. We forget about the whole damn thing.

__________________

No. Army. They put these places up all around the first few days after the outbreak. Emergency medical camps. Obviously didn't last. They had me in one just like this.

No, she was gone already.

It was for this.

No. Second day.

It was me. I was the guy who shot and missed.

There’s no story. Sarah died… and I couldn't see the point anymore. Simple as that. And I wasn't scared either. I was ready. I couldn’t have been more ready. And when I… when I… went to pull the trigger, I-I flinched. Still don’t know why. Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all this-

Yeah, I reckon you do.

It wasn’t time that did it.

Me too.

Yeah.

You know what I’m in the mood for?

Shitty puns.

No, it’s topical.

Oh, that’s terrible.

That’s a… that’s a zero outta ten.

That was a three outta ten.

I’ll give it a five. Five outta ten.

Ellie? Ellie!

__________________

Where’s Ellie?

Where is she?

It was all her. She fought like hell to get here.

Just take me to her.

What surgery?

Why is she in surgery?

Cordyceps grows inside the brain.

Find someone else.

No. No, you take me to her. You take me to her right now!

Please… you don’t understand.

And I do.

__________________

Which way?

Where is she?

I don’t have time for this.

__________________

Unhook her.

I said unhook her.

Unhook her.

Move!

Cover her arm. Fast.

Turn around.

__________________

Maybe. But it isn’t for you to decide.

__________________

It’s alright. You’re with me. Take it slow. The drugs are still wearin’ off.

They were runnin’ some tests on you… and some others. Turns out there’s a whole lot more like you… people that are immune. Dozens of ‘em. And the doctors, they couldn’t make any of it work. They’ve actually… They’ve stopped lookin’ for a cure.

Raiders attacked the hospital. I barely got ya outta there. We’ll find you some new ones on the way.

Yes.

I’m takin’ us home.

I’m sorry.

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You’d just come after her.

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Well, she got us close enough. We gotta walk the rest of the way. Probably about a five hour hike… but we can manage that. Remember?

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You know, Sarah and I used to hike like this all the time. I wouldn’t say it was her favourite thing. She wasn’t a fan of mosquitoes and such. But she was a big climber… or scamperer. That’s probably the right word. That girl… she’d see a big rock, and just… pshoo! She woulda liked you. Not to say the two of you are the same. Definitely different kids.

Well, she was a lot more… I wanna say “girly”, and I’m not sayin’ that you’re not girly.

Yeah, you’re not. So that. She was taller. She had a killer smile. Again, not saying that you don’t. But you know why I think she’d like you?

'Cause you’re funny. I think you would’ve made her laugh. Anyway, I bet you would’ve liked her back.

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There ya go. Not much further now.

That’s not on you.

Look, sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope. You can feel like… like you’ve come to an end… and you don’t know what to do next. But if you just keep goin’... you find something new to fight for. And maybe that’s not what you want-

I swear.

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FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal characters #joel miller dialogue #pedro pascal character dialogue

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