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undercoverpena · 8 months

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PEEPAW JOEL THOTS???!

oh gosh, this one makes me a touch nervous ⬇️

joel miller x f!reader warnings: smut, p in v, roof sex, injured!joel, sneaking around bill and franks, female and male receiving head.

🔥 think he has sex with you on the rooftop of some old building, maybe it used to be a library or a hotel, it’s not romantic but it becomes it, because he takes a second to appreciate how vast everything is, and you keep rutting your ass into him as you stare off. maybe the sun is peered out from the clouds, after you asked if they could stop a second, and he doesn’t want to but he relents, and then he sorta sees a speckle of what you do. the world from here almost looks normal, and then his hands come to your hips, halting you from backing into him, grunting an “enough.” and you shoot him a smirk over your shoulder, and fuck, like this, it’s photograph worthy. which is why he suspects he doesn’t actually stop you from moving your hips, just tells you to lean over the brick/railing, peeling your jeans down as he wets his hand with his spit as he slides it between your thighs, murmuring close to your ear that it's a "good view."

🔥 he's hurt his arm after coming into contact with another person/group, and you fuss, trying to clean it and he stops you, tells you it’s fine, "m'not even hurt". but he can see you're chewing your lip, fingers holding your chin, "I’d do it all again to keep you safe" and you just stare (because the two of you don't talk like this, it's all under the surface, displayed in actions rather than words). so you just crash your lips to his, his good hand pulling you onto his lap. mouth sliding down your neck as you undo his jeans, tells him if he’s not even hurt, he can make you feel good. and the man is nothing but determined, “you think I can't fuck you right when I’m hurt, huh?” him teasing you before telling you to climb on top, you sinking down on him, breath punched from your lungs as you take him to the root, "you can take it" talking you through it even if he’s the one hissing if he moves his arm. and your breath is all ragged as you get closer and closer, clothes still coated in some fuckers blood, his knuckles split, teeth gritted. and your eyes meet his as his hand grips your hip, both sharing a similar thought: i'd do anything to keep you fucking alive

🔥 you winding him up one day about how he looks miserable (more than normal), tiredness likely a factor, his bones weary, needing rest. so you offer to take him in your mouth after a shower back in some river. your fingers wrapping around his length, telling him to lie back, make a pillow from your jacket, asking if you can look after him, beads of water falling down his gruff, frowning face. “maybe my mouth can put a smile on your face.” and he shakes his head, “what y'mouth magical?” and you smirk, because he doesn't remember that time early on when he'd taken a pill and mixed it with booze that he'd said something similar. so she just sighs, “actually, someone did once tell me it’s life changing.” and he just licks his lips, nodding at you to go on.

🔥 I think when you make it to Jackson, the first night you're both alone is so different than back in the QZ, than the woods, than rooftops and everything in between. it’s the kind of sex that he’d have given you if the world hadn’t gone to shit and he’d met you in a bar. he takes his time, spends so long working you up, earning each moan you will give him before he can even consider burying himself in you. he's on his knees for you, even if his body protests, even if tomorrow his entire body will ache from how good tonight will be. but he knows it'll be worth it. even more as you coat his cock, desperate, needy, leaving fingerprint bruises on his skin that develop when he collapses beside you.

🔥 so, imagine staying over at bill & frank’s after enjoying some food, and a storm is rolling in, and Frank insists, but Bill hates it—insists on two separate rooms. but before you can sneak into Joel’s he sneaks into yours. hand over your mouth as you giggle, telling you that you’re gonna have to be real quiet. “not like you to break the rules, miller.” But then you teasing him about it not being gentlemanly trying to sneak into a lady’s room. “stopped being a gentlemen a while ago.” his fingers snaking inside your underwear. “c’mon baby you know how to be quiet. good enough when we’re surrounded by clickers. how’s this any different?” your panting, hand on his wrist as you pull it down to whisper, “you’re not usually doing this when we’re surrounded by clickers.” and the two of you are already on the floor, pillows and blankets surrounding them as he kisses down your body, sliding his mouth over your pussy as your hand darts into his curls. his fingers pinching your inner thigh when you make too much noise, sucks on the pulse point on your neck asa you catch your breath. begins leaving marks under the space underneath your breasts, a reminder of him there, that he's had you like this when he catches you stripping and changing, before he sinks into you. THE ABOVE ONE CONT: 👉👈 because i think I want to write this... the surroundings are so normal, he’s able to trick himself that this is like olden times. I think when you sit on his lap, he’d lift your hand from his chest at one point, kiss your knuckles—all tender, soft. before he places your hand back and rests his hands on your hips, aiding her. and I think they’d remain on the floor for a while after. him just stroking your cheek, you just lay on his chest, the storm still heavy. both lost in some make believe land that this is their house, and that maybe it’s just a night where they can’t sleep, rather than it being a night where they just feel safe (whatever that even means) and there’s so much hanging in the air, so many words they never speak, but they're safe, and together, and for both of them that's all that matters.

i cannot believe i have thotted so much in the last 24 hours.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #jo: thots

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libraryofloveletters · 9 months

Text

Behind The Lens

Kostas Tsimikas x Fem!Reader

Warnings: the boys teasing kostas constantly, reader being slightly oblivious to it, sexual innuendos, it gets a little steamy towards the end, kos is lowkey bad at flirting, lots of swooning.

Word Count: 3.2k

Author's Note: I don't really have an explanation of the Kostas kick I've been on lately but here we go. thank you to @curiousthyme for the idea, this ones for you!! <3

---

Despite it being close to 8 in the evening, the humidity was killing all of you.

Liverpool had journeyed to Singapore for the second half of their pre- season training and for a few friendly matches.

You had joined the team as one of the photographers. You had worked with the team before, but never in the field. Most of the time, you hung around when they did photo shoots for their new home kits or LFC retail.

They were comfortable around you, so there wasn't any awkwardness when you decided to join them on the pitch for their first training session.

Klopp was going over the drills for the session, you took a few photos as he spoke. The only two paying attention to you were Andy and Darwin, the two of them making silly faces at the camera. You looked away, holding back your giggling by pressing your lips together.

“Alright,” the man in the glasses clapped, “you know what you’ve gotta do.” He announces, sending them on their way.

You were taking photos of the session, watching the boys kick the ball around and do their drills. You were off to the side until they eventually split into groups to run drills. The boys separated themselves into groups of 5 and the one closest to you consisted of Virgil, Mo, Joe, Kostas and Cody. The 5 men kicked the ball back and forth, Kostas stuck in the middle to block it before it got to the next person.

In this particular moment, you were looking away trying to adjust something on your camera whilst kneeling on the grass. You were all but a few feet away from the boys and the pass that Mo made from himself across to Cody, made it pass both Kostas in the middle and Cody on the other side.

“Heads!” The younger Dutch player brings his hand up to his mouth to shout to you.

The camera’s lifted at the last second, the ball bouncing off the thigh the camera was once on. Mo makes a face, “sorry y/n!” He shouts to you and you smile, waving him off.

Before you know it, there’s a man in a grey shirt running to you to get the ball. “Are you okay?”

Kostas was knelt to your level, his soft brown eyes reflected under the flood lights; they reflected a kindness you’ve yet to see in other people.

You smiled, nodding. “I’m okay.”

“You’re sure? Mo has a foot of steel.” He chuckles at his own joke, earning him a smile.

You assured him you were fine as he grabbed your hand to help you up. “I grew up with 4 brothers. A lil’ roughhousing doesn’t bother me, Kos.”

The nickname caused his heart to flutter; despite hearing it a million times over, it was different coming from you.

“Kos!” The tall man shouts, “are you coming back?!”

Virgil’s hands were on his hips, you could see the annoyance on his face - he wasn’t one for being in the heat; the Singaporean humidity was his worst enemy at the moment - as was Kostas for having him waiting.

“Go on,” you reached out to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Kostas tucks the ball under his arm, “sure you’re okay?”

You smile, nodding once more. “I’m fine, Kos. I promise.”

Joe seemed to notice the exchange between the defender and the photographer, looking over at his friend next to him. Virgil caught onto what Joe meant from the moment he looked at him, raising his eyebrows in response. The Dutchman earned a chuckle from his friend.

Kostas watched you walk off in the direction of Andy and Trent’s group before snapping out of his y/n trance as the teammate called it.

They had returned from their mini break, taking a few minutes to rehydrate and stretch out their sore muscles; a sight you enjoyed. Whether it was in a professional manner or an unprofessional one, that was a secret.

The boys were all goofing around amongst themselves, getting the last of their energy out for the evening. You were sitting next to Jurgen on the bench, the man pointed out something that Joel was doing and you two shared a laugh; a common occurrence when you two were in each other’s presence.

“Alright,” you huffed as you stood, slipping your feet back into your slides. “Back to work.”

The older gentleman shook his head as he looked down at your choice in footwear. “Aren’t you worried you’d fall? The grass is still damp.”

“Not really, and if I do, there’s a ton of handsome footballers to catch me.” You raised your eyebrows, giving him a wicked smile.

“Y/n!” He laughed, wagging his finger at you. “You're trouble.”

“You like trouble, boss man.” You clicked a photo of him laughing before walking back onto the pitch.

Making the rounds, the boys pretend you aren’t there as they go about their evening. You already mentioned you get the best photos that way; candid.

There were a handful of solo shots being taken and you finally made it towards the group at back of the pitch.

The Greek defender straightens up, his hands on his hips as he watches Cody pass the ball to Andy, who passed it to him.

Andy knew the boys well enough to know at this point and in this heat, they’re just going through the motions. Hence his shock when he watched his teammate start showing off his tricks, starting his set of kick ups for no apparent reason.

The Scotsman noticed your presence, the click of your camera catching his attention. He laughed, head leaning back as his hand came up to his chest. Virgil looks over in concern, confused as to why Andy started laughing by himself but when he realizes who was lurking around, he too laughs.

“Kostas, man!” Ibou groans, “are you gonna pass the ball or not ?”

“He won’t,” Andy butts in before Kostas can even react. “Don’t you see who’s over there?” He nods towards the woman just two feet away. “He’s showing off for y/n.”

You can’t help the laugh you let out, rolling your eyes. “Shut up Andy,” you snorted. “I don’t know how Rachel puts up with you.”

“It’s my wits and charm that keep her in love.” He flashed you a smile, making you chuckle as you shook your head.

At this point, Ibou had managed to finally get the ball away from Kostas but lost it as he tried to get past Virgil - they called him big Virg for a reason.

It rolls over to you, you stop it by placing your foot on top of it. You pass it back in the same way they’d expect one of their teammates to kick it back to them.

Kostas’s jaw hung open, shocked at how well you did that.

“In slides,” Joel nods to himself in approval. “Well done, y/n.”

You smiled, doing a little pose as you lifted your shoulder. “Got skills for days.”

“With a Z?” Virgil looks over at you, a smile on his face.

“Skills and days with a Z, big man.” The two of you shared a laugh.

After what felt like a million hours in the heat, the boys were wrapping up and the kit men were packing up. You take a few minutes to pack up your camera stuff, a few of the boys were doing interviews and currently, it was Kostas’ turn.

A few of the players watched him, making him nervous for no reason. “We wanna go, Kos. Hurry up.” Ibou teased, shouting from the little balcony. Trent butts in to say, “come on Kostas, I wanna go bro.”

Virgil was watching them when you walked over. You peeked over the man’s shoulder who moves when he notices you, putting his arm around you before whispering in your ear.

Kostas looks over when he hears your laugh and you could swear that you saw a flint of jealousy in his eyes. Surely that’s not it, everyone was just tired and the boys were annoying him.

That must be it.

Ibou laughs when you whisper what Virgil had said to you.

He starts teasing his teammate once again; “Kostas, are you afraid? On the plane, no one can sleep because you talk too much. Now when you can talk, you don’t wanna talk.”

You watch from the little balcony as Virgil and Ibou head down one by one, staring down the man doing his interview. Cody joins in on the fun and Kostas is so over them, internally groaning at his irritating teammates.

They wanted to leave so badly and yet they were the ones that were causing him to take longer than necessary.

You felt a bit bad about all the teasing, calling to the three troublemakers. ”Come on boys, leave Kostas alone.”

“Yeah,” the Greek nods, “listen to y/n.”

Cody snickers, “I bet you’d love to listen to y/n, huh?”

Kostas is red in the face as Cody falls into Ibou laughing, the two of them in a fit of giggles. Kostas hoped he could blame the redness on the heat and you were getting closer by the second, the man was begging for a breeze to cool himself down.

Thankfully, you had missed the comment with the cheesy sexual innuendo because you were coming down the stairs a few feet away.

Once you made it over, you grabbed both Cody and Ibou by the wrists like school boys, pulling them up from their seats. All you had to do was look in Virgil’s direction for him to follow suit.

“Let’s leave Kostas to finish his interview in peace, yeah?”

The man in front the camera smiles, his heart fluttering at the sight of you - as was something else when he noticed the grey leggings you had on but those were thoughts best saved for when he was alone.

---

The cold shower welcomed you back to the land of the living after the evening in the heat. You were getting ready to go over the photos from the session, your memory card plugged into your laptop to upload as you got ready after your shower.

A knock on the door interrupts you as you brushed your hair. Setting the brush down, you made your way over to the door to see who it was.

On the other side of the door stood Kostas, a green tube in his hand as he smiled at you.

“Hey,” you smiled, confused as to why he was at your door.

“Hey, I uh.. sorry I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother, is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nods, holding out the green tube to you. “You forgot this on the bench, or I guess it fell from your pocket?”

It’s your chapstick, mint flavoured. Your initials are scribbled on the cap in black sharpie because you and Andy use the same one; this way there’s no confusion.

“Oh thank you,” you reached over and took it from him. “You didn’t have to do that, I have like four more in my makeup bag. I lose these all the time,” you laughed, tucked it into the pocket of your shorts.

Kostas shrugs, a smile on his face. The laptop chimed from its spot on the bed, signalling that it’s done uploading the pictures.

“Wanna see the pictures from the training session? I have to go through them anyway and I got a few good ones of you.”

The man peeked over your shoulder, “I couldn’t intrude.”

“You’re not, I’m inviting you in.”

You stepped to the side, letting him come in. Kostas follows you to the bed, watching as you climb onto it and pull the laptop onto your lap. You’ve got on a pair of black shorts and a red tshirt with a little lfc logo on the top.

As much as he enjoyed the view, he’d like the outfit much better if it was on the floor.

“Are you coming?” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, patting the empty spot next to you. “I don’t bite.”

Kostas slips off his shoes, climbing onto the bed. “What if I want you to ?” His eyes meet yours.

You assumed he was joking but you answered him regardless. “I will.. but only if you ask nicely.”

His cheeks have a red hue and he clears his throat when he settles down next to you. The man sat so stiff, a statue seemed like jello in comparison. His eyes fixed on the screen as you clicked through the pictures.

Kostas watched your manicured nails click along the keyboard, tapping the screen as you pointed out things to him. All he could focus on was how good they’d feel if they were being dragged down his back - the red of your nails matching the colour of the marks left behind.

“Those are really good,” he finally says. “You’re so talented, y/n.”

It’s your turn to blush, waving off the compliment with a smile. “It’s nothing, really.”

You sent the photos off to the socials admin, letting them share out what needed to be when your laptop chimed once more, letting you know it was low on battery. The laptop was on the bed when you leaned off the side of the bed to grab the charger. Instinctively, Kostas reaches out to hold your hips, making sure you don’t fall off the bed.

His touch burnt into your skin, you could feel everything but you ignored the feeling bubbling in your gut. You plugged your laptop in and set it on the nightstand to charge.

There’s a comfortable silence in the room so you look over at Kostas. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh.. I could eat.”

Kostas didn’t get the heads up before you reached over his lap and over to the other night stand to grab the room service menu.

The man’s brows furrowed as you sat back up. “I could have grabbed it for you.”

“Oh that’s okay,” you shrugged, flipping through the pages. “What are you feeling? I’m thinking a burger, maybe pasta?”

“Those are two very different things, y/n.”

“I’m aware of that, duh. I figured I could get both and we could split it unless you want something else?”

Kostas shook his head, “that’s fine.”

You called and ordered the food, settling into the pillows behind you as you looked for a movie to put on in the meantime. Kostas’s eyes were fixed on you, you could feel them burning into your skin with each passing glance.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Kostas blurts, causing your brows to furrow. “You know, if the guys overstepped today.”

“How did they overstep?”

“With what Cody said.”

Now you were really confused. “What did Cody do? He’s a sweetheart, I can’t imagine him saying anything bad.” You chuckled.

Kostas internally groans, you clearly didn’t hear what Cody had said but now he’s got to explain. “He uh- he said how I’d like to listen to you.”

You make a face; “what does that even mean?”

“Well,” Kostas started, clearly a bit uncomfortable explaining the context of said statement. “I guess he meant.. in bed.”

“Oh.” You pulled your lips together, holding back a snicker. You often forget that despite all being grown ass men and professional footballers, they had the minds of 15 year old boys.

There’s a moment of quietness before you speak; “and would you?”

Kostas stops picking at his nail to look at you, “would I?” He trails off.

“Would you listen to me.. in bed?”

Your eyes finally met his; there’s a sense of urgency that flashed in his brown eyes, his cheeks flushed red despite the AC running and it’s like you can hear the gears turning in his head. He’s trying to think of the right way to say this without scaring you off.

“Yes.”

There’s a slight smile playing on your lips, you can’t help but reach out and hold his chin, forcing him to focus solely on you.

“Good.”

Kostas isn’t exactly sure what flipped in him but he leans over and into you, chest pressed to yours as his lips meet yours.

There’s an instant connection between the two of you as if you’d been a couple for years; Kostas’s hands find your hips, pulling you over and on top of him. You straddled the player under you, hands cupping his jaw in an attempt to pull him closer.

The two of you were as close as you could possibly get, his warm hands slipped under the red shirt you had on.

Your own hands pulled on his shirt, the two of you separating for a second to pull it off completely - a second that felt like an eternity to him.

Just as he does to pull your shirt up, there’s a knock on the door. The man groans, dropping his face into your chest.

You grab a handful of his hair, pulling his head back. Kostas groans, a happy one but looks up at you. “It’s the room service.”

“Tell them to take it back,” he pulls you against him for another kiss.

You giggled, getting off of his lap. Kostas rolls over on the bed and grabs your wrist, pulling you back to the edge of the bed. “Kos,” you whine, trying to get your hand loose.

“Whattttt?” He reaches over to give you one more kiss.

“The food is gonna get cold, let me just grab it.”

“Then you’ll come right back?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?” He held his pinky out to you.

You laughed, interlocking your pinky with him. “Promise.”

He lets you grab the food from outside, the hotel staff left the tray outside considering that you didn’t answer the door. You leant down to grab it off the trolley and you could feel Kostas’s eyes on your ass.

“I can feel you staring.”

He smiles, waiting for you to put the tray down. “Staring never hurt anyone.”

“I mean, if you’re a stalker it probably would.”

Kostas rolls his eyes playfully, pulling you back onto the bed with him. His lips find yours again, the two of you tangled together on top of the sheets.

You’re on your sides, looking at each other. Your finger traced over his jaw, Kostas turns his head to press a kiss to it.

“It wasn’t so hard for you to admit you liked me, hm?”

“You say that as if you knew,” he laughed.

“Of course I knew.”

“You did?” He looked a bit shocked. You never give him any signals that you had a clue.

“I told you I got skills for days, with a Z.”

Kostas laughs, pulling you into him. “Oh shut up.”

---

taglist: @themandaloriansdiaries @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle @lettersfromvenus @mehrmonga @callsignvenus @kmc1989 @valentinehrts @pulpfixion @ironmaiden1313 @candacels

join my taglist!

#kostas tsimikas #kostas tsimikas x reader #kostas tsimikas x you #kostas tsimikas x y/n #kostas tsimikas imagine #kostas tsimikas fic #kostas tsimikas oneshot #football x reader #football x y/n #football x you #football imagine #football fiction #football fics #football fic #football fluff #football fanfic

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bouncyballcitadel · 4 months

Text

"Suburban Legends" - A Short Snippet

For @chidichi, who won one of the 3,000 follower short snippets!

Based on the prompt, "A romantic moment with Victor."

You never expected to run into Vic's ex-fiancée at a Trader Joe's, but - shit happens.

One moment, you're teasing Vic in the pasta aisle - the next, you hear someone call out his name. No, that's not entirely right. Not just his name - Victor. His nickname - Vic, full of surprise and (you're sure of this) tenderness.

The two of you turn at the same time and, to be honest, you don't even see her at first. Instead, you see the fat, happy baby strapped to her chest - all flushed cheeks and big eyes - and your first shameful instinct is that this is Vic's secret love child. You know, of course, how wrong that is; you also know, of course, that Vic and her (her, who you've stalked on Instagram - an act that you instantly admitted an hour later) have long been over and that this baby, this family has nothing to do with Vic at all, yet...You don't need to complete a residency in psychiatry to know that you - people - anyone - are, at even the best of times, irrational.

"Claire," Vic says, and you can almost see the gears in both their heads turning - the best way to approach a hug with a baby in between. They settle for a quick side squeeze, and then Claire turns to you, her smile tired but warm.

"You must be MC." She lets out a self-conscious laugh. "Our parents - they go to church together. Vic's mom is really excited about you."

You feel your face heat up, and Claire quickly adds, "Not that they gossip about you. I just meant - well - only good things. You know."

"That's a relief," you offer, and Claire gives you a grateful look - her face pink.

"I should - " She shifts the baby against her chest. "It was nice meeting you. And - " Her eyes flick over to Vic. " - seeing you again."

"Take care," Vic murmurs, and you gaze up at him, find that his face is bright red.

After Claire leaves, Vic lets out a breath, runs his fingers through his hair.

"I just want to say - " he starts, shakes his head, starts again. "I know I'm - blushing. And, it's not because of her or you, my face just gets like this sometimes - "

"I know," you say. "It's okay."

"Just - I don't want you to think - my mom - "

You step closer and press your hands against Vic's cheeks, unable to help a laugh at the startled noise that escapes his mouth. His skin is hot in your hands, and you brush your thumbs gently against his face.

"I know," you say. "It's okay. I promise. We're good."

"Yeah?" You feel Vic relax against you, and you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah." And then, because you absolutely can't help yourself, you grin. "Confession...I did think, for - like - a split second, that she was holding your secret love child."

Vic laughs, that full, rush of a laugh that never fails to warm you. "My secret love child? What is this - Grey's Anatomy?"

"I was thinking more soapy. Days of Our Lives. The Young and The Restless."

"You've never watched any of those shows."

"The gist, then - " You yelp as Vic suddenly pulls you against him, his body solid and stable against yours.

"I really, really love you," he says in a lower voice, and you look up at him - trace the details of his face again, memorize the colors in his eyes.

"I really, really love you too," you say, and he kisses you - right in the pasta aisle of Trader Joe's.

#citadelwip #victor uytterhoeven

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lukeevangelista · 1 year

Note

Can u pls write for Joe Burrow "kiss me, kiss me again" and “tell me to stop, tell me or i won’t be able to.” “then don’t.” from prompt list 2

Also I'm so obsessed w ur writing, it's addictive ❤️

Ok bc the scenario I wanted, I did have to split up the 1st prompt ):

———————————————————————————-

“Kiss me.” You whispered as Joe pulled away from your hug, “there’s some man that keeps staring at us. I told him my boyfriend would kick his ass.” You muttered into his ear.

“But you don’t have a boyfriend Y/N-,” Joe started, but was cut off by you pressing your lips to his.

“Now, I need you to kiss me again, like you actually mean it.”

Joe pressed his lips to yours passionately, then moving in sync as you two stood by the bar at the rooftop bar. Joe pulled away, him needing air before leaning his forehead against yours, “Tell me to stop.” He whispered, his eyes darting between yours and your mouth, “Tell me or I won’t be able to Y/N.”

You gave him a sly smile, “Then don’t.”

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #soft thoughts w/ari #aris 1k celly

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joesheistyy · 1 year

Text

will you teach me?

in this two sided imagine, the reader teaches Joe something and vice versa :)

----

A few night ago, you and Joe were getting ready for bed in your en suite bathroom. Your hair was still damp from your shower, so you took this opportunity to do two dutch braids down the crown of your head. As Joe bent over the sink to brush his teeth, he kept looking up to see what you were doing. He was mesmerized by the simple act of braiding your hair.

"Will you teach me how to do that?" he questioned, standing up after rinsing his mouth.

"How about I teach you how to do a simple three strand braid next time my hair is air dried?" you ask, grabbing his hands and pulling yourself into his chest.

"But what if I wanna learn nowww," he whined.

"Sorry baby, what's done is done for now. Next time, I promise," you lifted up on your tip toes and kissed his forehead. Soon leaving the bathroom to get tucked into bed.

Throughout the time your hair was braided, Joe continued to play with it. He would toss the long braids around, pretend to use them as a mustache, and any dorky thing he could think of. "you're such a handful, Burrow," you chuckled as you both drifted off to sleep.

A few days later, you got around to washing your hair again. Joe continued to pester you for days over teaching him how to braid.

"Is it time?" he asked, coming around the corner of the bathroom door as you were drying off.

"Almost Joey. Gotta let my hair dry first. It'll be easier for you that way," you said, getting dressed with your hair up in a towel wrap.

"Is it dry, is it dry, is it dry?" Joe poked around after an hour of sitting on the couch together.

"I think so babe, let me go grab my hairbrush and a hair tie," you said, standing up from the couch. Joe's eyes beamed with excitement. The look on his face causing you to smile with him.

"Okay Joey, you gotta brush out my hair first so it is knot free," you sat down on the floor while he sat on the couch.

"Oh I see how it is, you just want me to do your dirty work for you," he laughed, taking the brush from your hands.

"I meannnn," you trailed.

"Okay, it's all brushed. What's next?" he asked eagerly.

"First, you're gonna want to split my hair into three even sized sections," Joe followed your directions.

"Next, you're gonna take the left strand and cross it over the middle strand. Now, what used to be the left strand is the middle strand," you said. Joe did a little wiggle at the fact that you were thoughtfully teaching him.

"Okay, I got it, what's next?"

"So now that what used to be the left strand is the middle strand, right? The next step is to take the right strand and cross it over the new middle strand. Does that make sense?" You tried to avoid moving your head, even though Joe's concentration face was always precious.

"Yes ma'am. This is cool!" he exclaimed like a toddler on their birthday.

"So now, you just keep doing that series of steps. Left over middle, right over middle," before you could even finish your sentence, Joe took off, eager to show you his hard work. Quickly after the last directions were given, Joe exclaimed "Done!"

"Let me see babe, take a picture with your phone for me," you sat patiently, waiting to see his hard work. "Not bad Joey! It could use some work, but you get the idea!" you said with a proud look on your face, tilting your head back for a kiss. Joe obliging. As the evening went on, Joe continued to braid and unbraid your hair, brushing it in-between braids he worked on so it wouldn't hurt your pretty little head.

"Next, I'll teach you how to French braid, how cool does that sound?" You asked.

"Way cool. I'm ready!"

---------

Joe was spending time outside in your multiple acre backyard simply just seeing how far he could throw a football. You stood at the back door, watching him lob football after football.

You decided to join him, it looked like a beautiful day outside.

"Hi baby! Did you see how far I just threw that one? It went so far I think I lost it!" Joe laughed, pulling you into a spinning hug. He was in his own world when he was throwing footballs on his own which would 99% of the time guarantee a great mood.

"You just look so hot throwing these down the yard. Will you teach me?" Joe's face lit up at the fact that you wanted to learn how to do something that meant so much to him.

"Of course baby, let's go pick up some of these balls first," he said, walking around to the garage to start the 4 wheeler. You hopped on behind him with the nearly empty duffle bag of footballs. Collecting the footballs that you could see was a quick task yet seemed to go by so slow because of your eagerness.

As Joe parked the 4 wheeler, he offered his hand to help you off. "I don't need no help Burrow, I'm about to be as good as a starting quarterback. Maybe even better," you nudged his shoulder causing a boisterous laugh to echo throughout the yard.

"Oh right, you goober," he laughed, throwing you over his shoulder to carry you back to the backyard to his favorite throwing spot.

"Show me, show me, show me!" you cheered at him as he put you down onto the ground gently.

"Okay y/n. Watch this," he says with a shit eating grin on his face as he sent a football soaring further than you've ever seen before.

"That's showing me, not teaching me, asshole," you joked and tried to push him. He laughed at your sad attempt to sack him to the ground.

"Now are you ready? Here's how we hold the ball," Joe demonstrated to you, making sure you had a football to follow along with him. Adjusting your hand position and fingers to mimic his even though his fingers were much longer than yours.

"Next, what I want you to do is bring your arm back like this," Joe began as he grabbed your arm and brought it back behind your head. "After that, you're gonna find your target and just absolutely chuck it," he forced your arm to fling forward, sending the ball directly to the ground.

"I don't think I've ever seen you send it in that direction," you laughed at him, outstretching your hand as a sign for Joe to pass you another ball.

"You ready to try it on your own?" Joe asked, you nodded in response.

"Don't watch me this time, it's gonna be bad," you laughed as you reached up to cover his eyes and turn him around.

"Oh come on babe, it won't be so bad," he laughed, turning back around.

"Fine, but you have to agree not to laugh at me," you outstretched your pinky to meet his, searching for a very serious pinky promise.

You cocked your arm back to try to launch the ball. It made it nowhere close to where any of Joe's footballs had landed.

"Not bad y/n!" Joe cheered excitedly.

"Throw one with me?" you asked, both of you reaching for another ball.

"Sure, but don't get mad when I make it 4 times your distance," he laughed, passing you a ball.

"Yeah yeah, whatever Burrow," You began, "Alright, 3...2...1..."

You both launched your footballs. Yours made it further than you expected and you could see a glimmer of pride in Joe's eyes.

"Damn mama, looks like you could really be the next Burrow. Quarterback or wife," Joe winked at you, leaning down to bring you into a romantic kiss.

You tried to hide the blush on your face in his chest and Joe just pulled you closer in for a hug. He was so proud that his girl wanted to know his first love, football.

-----

this was so cute wtf I could cry

#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #bengals quarterback #bengals #nfl imagine #nfl #football #cutie joe #such a cutie

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simple-seranade · 1 year

Text

Repair My Broken Gears

Something is wrong with Scar. Cleo regrets signing up for this.

(That’s a lie. They’re terrified what would have been if they hadn’t.)

CW: loneliness, arguing? that’s about it

in which sera takes a single line of dialogue scar had about knowing loneliness and runs with it

(also i was thinking of @stiffyck the entire time i was writing this so like. sorry if this tag is unwanted lol)

>>>>>>>>>*<<<<<<<<<

Look, Cleo isn’t worried. She isn’t. She isn’t.

But-

It’s just-

She sighs, running a hand through their tangled orange hair as they watch Bdubs and Scar bicker and laugh by the animals.

It’s something about the way Scar seems so insistent on finding a way to be useful. How he makes off-handed comments about knowing what it’s like to be alone, accompanied by a flippant laugh that does nothing to quell the small pit that grows in Cleo’s stomach at the words. How his face will fall for a split second when Cleo jokes not to call them “mom” before bouncing back to that damn grin of his. How that grin becomes so much more real when she does something as simple as toss him some food or ruffle his hair.

So no, Cleo isn’t worried. Just… healthily concerned.

They can practically hear Joe lecturing them about emotional awareness. He is so lucky he doesn’t come to these things, otherwise she would be whittling his clock down without a second thought.

A shout rings out across entertainment mountain, and Cleo sees Scar holding Bdubs’ clock- the one Impulse gave him, not his countdown- above his head, well out of the shorter man’s reach. As Bdubs lets out a string of words that sound way cruder than they actually are, she sighs. She should probably go stop them before one of them falls off of the mountain. Again.

Void, she really did just pick two idiots to team with, didn’t she?

Still, as she approaches the two men, she can’t find it in her to regret it.

“Scar! Bdubs!”

Their gazes snap towards her, eyes wide. Bdubs is the first to start talking.

“Mom-“

“Not your mom.”

“-he took my clock!”

Scar quickly stuffs his hands in his pockets, trying and failing to look nonchalant. “What? No I didn’t!”

Cleo raises an eyebrow at him.

“… ok, I did, but he started it!”

“I DID NOT!” Bdubs tugs on Scar’s arm, trying to get his hand- and subsequently, the shorter man’s clock- out of his pocket. This, to no one’s surprise, does not work, mostly because Scar is a good foot and a half taller than Bdubs. This does not stop him from trying.

This also does not stop them from bickering with steadily increasing volume.

“Hey, hey, hands off the merchandise, Bdubs!”

“I put my hands where I darn well please! You keep your hands off my stuff!”

“I don’t have your stuff!”

“Bullcrap! I see it in your pocket!”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Jeez! If I had known I’d be getting conned with my own schtuff I’d have had second thoughts about this team-up!”

It’s almost unnoticeable, so quick that Cleo can almost convince herself she imagined it. But, for a split second, Scar flinches.

“I- Well, it’s what I do, Bdubs!”

“You con and lie and bully! This is bullying!”

Void, Cleo does not get paid enough for this.

“BOYS!”

The two men freeze in their tracks.

“Scar, give Bdubs his clock back. Bdubs, apologize for yelling- actually, wait, both of you apologize for yelling.” They cross their arms, staring the men down.

Bdubs sputters. “What- no, I’m not apologizing, why wou-“

He’s cut short by a soft clinking sound. With wide eyes, he looks between his hands, where his golden clock now sits, and Scar, whose gaze is fixed firmly on the ground as he turns away.

“Sorry, Bdubs. I’ll just- yeah. You’re good. Sorry.”

“I- sorry, Scar, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, no, you’re fine! You can just- you stay here with Mo- Cleo, I’m gonna go get- get some air.”

“Scar, wait-“

Bdubs’ words fall on deaf ears as Scar hops off the rocks, towards the base of the mountain. He turns to Cleo, brow furrowed. “Was it something I said? Did I-“

“I don’t know, Bdubs.” The pit in her stomach is back, gnawing and twisting as she stares at the spot where Scar just was.

“… what do we do?” His voice is quiet, so unlike how it normally sounds. It makes Cleo want to shake him until he’s back to his usual self.

“We don’t do anything.” She sighs, turning to face her friend. “You go ahead and get some rest. I’ll talk to him.”

“But-!”

“No buts.”

Bdubs sags, his shoulders slouching considerably. Cleo reaches forward, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Bdubs.” She waits until he looks up, meeting their eyes. “It’ll be ok, alright?”

Bdubs pauses before nodding hastily. “Of course, of course- I- I have no doubt. The great Bdubs just- just needs to go get some sleep.”

“You go do that.” They squeeze his shoulder one last time before letting go, turning towards the edge of the mountain.

“Goodnight Mom!”

“I will stab you in your sleep!” She tosses over her shoulder as she carefully slips down, doing her best to take minimal fall damage.

Scar is… much farther down than they expected. It takes a good minute of scaling down to finally see him, walking around with a frantic fervor and muttering under his breath. The words become clearer as they approach, and with them, so does the anxious feeling creeping in her mind.

“… can’t go back up to the chests. There goes my chance at a monopoly. Still, it’s between that or them being mad at me for taking stuff and then-“

“Scar?”

The man freezes in his tracks. Cleo takes a step closer.

“Scar, what was that up there for?” She tries to keep her words from being cruel, but receives a flinch nonetheless. She’s not sure how she expects him to respond, but…

“Sorry, I’m leaving. It- It’ll not happen again, no need to worry!” The upbeat tone has no place with the shaky voice and trembling hands accompanying it as he begins pacing again.

“You know Bdubs wasn’t actually that mad about the clock, he’s just like that-“

“No, no, he had every right to be, right? I was being a bad teammate. But- but don’t worry, I am getting out of your hair-!”

“Scar.”

Silence.

“You don’t have to leave.”

“But I do!” He faces them now, finally faces them, but they almost wish he hadn’t. His face is still in that wide smile, bright as the sun, even as tears run down his cheeks. “That’s how this works, right? Scar’s alone! Again! All he does is lie and cheat, he doesn’t care. Just betray him! You mean nothing to him anyways!” His chest heaves with unshed sobs, and his eyes are screwed shut.

“It’s not like I can bring anything else to the team,” he continues. “After all, I die and I die and I die, I die and try to make stupid deals that only an idiot would take! Which makes me the biggest idiot of all, right? I-“

No one knows what he was going to say next, because in the same moment, a pair of arms wraps around him impossibly tight. He can’t stifle the gasp that escapes him at the contact, the warm warm warmth that enveloped him as Cleo squeezes, making his ribs creak and his heart swell. His tongue feels useless in his mouth, any words he could say stopped up in his throat.

“Scar, I want you to listen to me.” Cleo murmurs, not letting go. “We don’t want you here because you’re useful, or pity, or any of that. We want you here for you.”

He tries to talk, void he tries, but all that escapes his lips is a high-pitched keen. Cleo- beautiful, crazy, kind Cleo- simply hugs him tighter, rubbing a hand on his back so firmly and gently that it makes his heart ache.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Let it out. We don’t want you to leave, the exact opposite.” She leans forward, resting her forehead on his. “We love you, Scar. We don’t want you to be alone.”

That’s all it takes for the dam to break.

Three games’ worth of pent-up sobs echo through the landscape as Scar sags, crying into Cleo’s shoulder. They hold him up, carding their fingers through his tangled hair. She doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t need to, because her arms are around Scar and she’s here and she isn’t leaving-

He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this, how he’s atoned for all his sins enough that he has Bdubs to tackle him in excitement when Cleo leads him back to their home. He doesn’t think he’s done enough to warrant one person being stuck with him in one of these horrid games, especially two people.

He doesn’t want to let it go, though.

The universe ticks down. Their lives lose length with every passing second they spend like this.

But they aren’t alone, none of them, and they won’t be again.

(And if Cleo doesn’t chastise Scar the next time he calls her Mom? Well, nobody needs to know that.)

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glittter-vamp · 1 year

Text

Not The Same Anymore |J.B

Warnings/A.N: Angstyyyy. Arguments. Cussing. Mentions of Alcohol. Small mention of sex. Not my best work but wanted to post something. Sorry for any errors 🖤 (maybeeeee I’ll make a part 2 of y’all want it)

You were sitting in you car looking at the message from an unsaved number over and over again. You couldn't believe what it said and you thought it was a sick joke but no.

"Hey Y/N, this is Amanda, Joe's girlfriend. I've been thinking and I think it's best if you don't come to Joe's party tonight. I've seen the way you look at him and interact with him and frankly it's disrespectful to our relationship and me especially. I don't appreciate how close you two are and how flirty you are with him. So I think it's best if you didn't show. But if you decide to come, know we have security and they know not to let you in."

You felt humiliated, shocked, angry and hurt. You thought his girlfriend liked you. You and Joe have been really good friends since Ohio State and always ,he made an effort to include you in his life even after he made it big. You hadn't seen him in almost a year now due to his busy schedule though. You had been excited all week to go to the party he was throwing at his house, which he never did. You hadn't seen him in such a long time and you had just gotten in your car to drive over there when you had received that message.

After a moment of trying to comprehend what happened you decided to still go out anyways. The night was still young and you were dressed up. You didn't want this to ruin your night. Pissed off, you ended up at your bestfriends house. "Y/N?" Your best friend asks in confusion. "I thought you were going to Joe's Party?" She asks. You don't say anything but show her your phone. She reads the text and her jaw drops. "What the fuck? Oh, Y/N I'm so sorry. That's awful, what the hell is her problem?!" She says ushering me inside. "I feel like an idiot, I thought she was cool with me. Why would she do this? Especially the night of the party?" I ask. "Cause she's a total insecure bitch." Your best friend says making you laugh.

"C'mon, I'll get dressed and we can hit up some bars in downtown!" She says patting my back. "Yeah, I really need that." You nod giving her a small smile. You wait a little while for her to get ready. You sat on her couch debating on texting Joe some lame excuse about not being able to make it but honestly, he probably won't even care that you ended up not showing up. Your best friend finally finishes getting ready and you split an uber between the both of you to downtown.

We make our way to the first bar which wasn't too packed with people and we order our first drinks. "So, tell me how'd that date with what's his face go?" I ask my best friend. "It was good, we ended up going back to mine." She says blushing. " Oooo... was he good?" i wiggle my eyebrows. "I'm still sore..." she says and I squeal in excitement making her blush and laugh. "I'm so happy for you girl, he is super cute!" I say sipping my drink. "How about you? No one new?" she asks. "Nah. Works been so busy this is literally my first night out since we went out for Jackie's birthday! "I shake my head.

"Do you...still like...you know who?" she frowns. "I...don't know. I don't think I do, it's been so many years. He's obviously been dating other people & I think he sees me as a sister so it's not like that would ever work." I shake my head. "So that's a..yes that you still like him. Maybe, if that's the case then it's best that you didn't go to the party tonight after all, I know you're friendship with Joe means a lot to you but if you deep down have feelings for him, seeing him date anyone else is just going to ruin you for the rest of your life." She says. "Yeah, maybe so." I shrug taking another sip of my drink feeling embarrassed that you just basically admitted to still having a crush on someone from college.

The night goes on and we bar hop through the night. Meeting up a few people we know and around 12am at a crazy loud bar, you notice a few missed calls and text messages on your phone. By now you were feeling every ounce of liquor in your system. You open the text messages and see that they were from Joe.

Joey 🏈: Hey, you on your way? -10:12pm

Joey🏈: If you need the address again, let me know! -10:37pm

Joey🏈: Are you alright? still haven't heard from you...-11:24pm

Joey🏈: If you didn't want to come, could of just told me...not fucking cool to just ghost me like this -12:13am.

and in between those text messages were missed calls from him. You show your best friend the messages and she shakes her head. "Seems like she didn't tell him about uninviting you & is making you seem like the bad guy here. What royal bitch!" She shakes her head. "I don't even care anymore. I'm not dealing with this high school type of drama, we're not even as close as we used to be anymore for all this, he's probably just drunk and will forget about me in the morning." you shake your head putting your phone in your pocket and continuing your fun night out.

***********

The next morning you left your best friends house hung over as hell and made your way back to your apartment. You felt like absolute shit, but you had so much fun and appreciated her for going out with you to get your mind off things. Once you make it back home you take a much need shower and do your best to rehydrate yourself with a liquid IV. You definitely were not holding up like you used to after a night out and needed to nurse those hangover for the rest of the day.

As you popped a few aspirins in the kitchen, there was a loud knock on your door. You sigh and drag your feet over to the front door before opening it thinking it was annoying neighbor again asking you to walk more softly but you completely froze when you saw who it was. "Uh, hey..wh-what are you doing here?"You ask awkwardly as you look at the tall blonde in front of you. He also looked like he had quite the night last night.

"Can we talk?" Joe says obviously upset. "Sure." you say letting him in. You were nervous for what was about to come and also wondered how in the hell did he remember your address when you only gave it to him one time because he wanted to send you Bengals merch when he got drafted a few years back.

"Did I do something to you?" he asks as you shut the door. "What? No, why would you think that?" You ask. "Well, for starters you completely left me hanging last night. Then you ignored my calls AND left me on read. What the hell is your deal?" He asks crossing his arms and looking at you. "Nothing is my deal Joe, I just got caught up." You sigh giving him that lame excuse that you knew better than to give him. "Don't give me that bull shit Y/N, I saw your instagram story, you were at a bar! Multiple! Given what I saw!" He scoffs. "Why do you even care if i make it to your party or not? i'm sure the 100 other people there and your girlfriend were enough! You're a celebrity now remember? I'm just some girl you met in college that you barely speak to anymore." You snap back.

"Because you're one of my best friends! You're not some girl I met in college?! So, I expected to be something of a priority to you like you are to me!" He says and you sigh shaking your head. "Joe, I'm sorry I didn't go to your party last night, but aren't you blowing this a little out of proportion? We definitely don't prioritize each other, not since the day you left Ohio state...We barely see each other anymore, I mean last year we both forgot to text one another for each others birthdays...it's just not the same anymore and you know it." you sigh pushing your hair back and he shakes his head looking up at your ceiling clearly trying to keep his cool.

"I just don't understand why you would tell me twice during the week that you were going and then ignore me, to then find out you were bar hopping instead? I don't care how much has changed between us. It's fucked up! and it's something I'd never do you! When I say I'm going to do something, I mean it and I do it." He says sounding hurt which absolutely destroyed you inside. The last thing you wanted was to hurt him but you were getting very upset at being the bad guy.

Without saying anything you went and grabbed your phone. You opened Amanda's text handing him your phone and a look of confusion played upon his face. He reads the message and his face completely falls. "Y/N... I- I had no idea she sent you this message. I- "It's fine Joe, I get it. If I'm making her feel uncomfortable than I just need to step back and leave you alone." You shrug. "No, you don't! This isn't okay. She lied to me and crossed the line. I'm sorry Y/N... I truly didn't know and shouldn't came over here like this." Joe shakes his head looking back at the message. He was becoming enraged which didn't happen often, he was always so stoic & mellow. Even when they lost the super bowl and the AFC he barely showed any emotion on that.

"Maybe she's right you know, maybe I have crossed boundaries and should take a step back." you shrug and his head snaps up at you. "What are you saying?" he asks and you take a deep breath. "Maybe I am too flirty or too close with you and we should just be friends from a far or...not at all. I don't know...but I do know you really like Amanda and she comes first ya know? It's normal, it's what happens when you get in a serious relationship, things change with friendships around." You say holding in tears. "Y/N... C'mon don't do this over some stupid misunderstanding, we've gotten through much worse than this." Joe says swallowing hard.

"Have we? Cause I don't ever remember feeling like this when it comes to you. This is the first time you've ever been upset at me. It'll be better this way Joey & you know that was no misunderstanding. I'll still be watching every game & supporting every thing that you do. That you can always count on." I say hiding my sadness with a laugh.

"So that's it? Our friendship is just tossed in the trash because Amanda apparently says so?" He fake laughs. "Joe, our lives at a point where they're just different. It happens!! I mean look at you and Seth! You two were also inseparable in college and now look? He's married with kids and living in New York. When was the last time you heard from him? I think... I think our time is just up and you need to focus on your career and your relationship." You say letting a tear stream down your face.

"This is some bullshit you know, you were supposed to be there when I win the Super Bowl, when I finally get married and I finally had kids. Like you were there for me with the transfer to LSU, the NCAA win, The draft, my injury & making to the Super Bowl... shit you even helped me unpack when I bought my house out here and you're telling me that this is just what happens between friends because of life? Do you not remember, I'm also the guy that would look after you in college & make sure you'd make it back to your dorm after getting trashed at all these stupid parties your friends that I'm sure you don't even talk to either would drag you to? I was the one that would drive you to your parents every time you felt homesick, the one that would help you out with papers and studying?...that means nothing huh? Over a fucking bull shit text!?" He scoffs.

"Joe- No save it Y/N. You clearly made a choice here before I even walked through that door and without even talking to me about it. Have a nice life, Y/N." He says handing your phone back to you and storming out of the house slamming the door behind him without even taking one last glance to you. You couldn't help but let out a small sob and let the tears finally flow. This hurt way more than you could ever imagine. Letting your best friend and the only guy you've ever loved slip through you're fingers forever.

#joe burrow angst #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow fic

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mads-weasley · 8 months

Text

Epiphany Pt. 3: Haunted

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: hey guys!! i had originally planned for operation market garden to be one chapter, but there were just too many things that i wanted to add, so it will be split up into at least two! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Summary: Things aren't as cut and dry as they seem when Easy jumps into Holland for Operation Market Garden, and (y/n) faces a heartbreaking reality.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: slightly graphic mistreatment of women (eindhoven scene)

SEPTEMBER 13, 1944: ALDBOURNE, ENGLAND

The pub was alive, bustling with half-drunken paratroopers when (y/n) arrived with Skip, Alex, and Don. They were missing their fifth member who they spotted across the bar playing darts with Buck.

“How much money do ya’ think he’s lost?” Skip asked, snickering as they made their way through the crowd to an empty table.

(Y/n) grimaced. “As long as he’s not asking me for a loan again, I don’t care. He still owes me $20.”

“Ehh, you’re probably not gonna get that back, (y/n/n), Penkala laughed, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “You should know George well enough by now.”

“Well, the first twenty bucks he gets is mine tonight, boys.”

Finding a booth in the corner, Don, Skip, and (y/n) plopped down while Alex went to get them drinks. They looked around the room and observed some of Bull’s new squad replacements sitting nearby.

“They don’t look older than twelve,” Skip scoffed, shaking his head.

Don smacked the side of his head, rolling his eyes. “Skip, you don’t look much older than twelve, alright, so ease up.”

“You’re telling me you don’t even feel a litt-”

“No,” (y/n) interrupted. “I don’t. They’re here the same reason we are.”

Before Skip could argue back, Alex returned with their drinks, and the first thing (y/n) did was gulp hers. To her dismay, Alex had started to ramble about the replacements to Skip, and the pair picked up right where she’d cut him off. With a sigh, she got up and walked over to George, Buck, Toye, and a replacement, who were crowded around the dartboard. They all watched Buck as he lined up a shot.

“Here we go. One shot. Here we go,” he muttered to himself.

When she slid into the space beside George, he smirked with a wink, nodding toward Buck, as if to say, ‘Look at this.’

“Lieutenant,” he began. “You gonna shoot lefty all night?”

Toye and the red-headed replacement’s faces fell, and (y/n) took a sip of her drink to hide her smirk.

Joe looked between George and Buck in disbelief. “Hey, come on,” He groaned.

“Just curious,” George continued, “‘Cause he’s right-handed.”

A sly smile grew on Buck’s face as he switched sides and lined up his shot. “George. What would I do without George Luz?”

The group watched as the dart left Buck’s hand and hit the bullseye dead on.

“Boop!”

Collective groans came from Joe and the replacement at George’s antics as he turned to the men. “Goodness, gracious!”

“Two packs, gentlemen,” Compton announced, holding out his hand.

“I know you’ve got them. Pay up.”

Joe looked at (y/n) who was still smirking into her drink. “You gonna let them screw us like that, (y/n)?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t see anything, Joe.”

Rolling his eyes, Toye grumbled as he placed a pack of cigarettes in Buck’s outstretched hand before walking off. The replacement approached (y/n) with a nervous smile, and she had to agree with Skip that he did look twelve, even if he towered over her.

“Heffron,” he introduced, holding out his hand. “Babe Heffron. Nice to meet you. The guys have told me nothing but great things.”

She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Babe. You’re in Bull’s squad, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Raising her eyebrows, (y/n) snorted. “Ma’am makes me sound like an old woman. Call me (y/n).”

“Yes, ma’a-, I mean, (y/n),” he corrected, his face turning crimson.

Seeing the flash of a familiar silver flask near the door, (y/n) nodded at Babe. “It was nice meeting you, Heffron. You’re in good hands with Bull.”

She found him sitting at a table with Harry Welsh, who looked more tipsy than usual. “(Y/n). Speak of the devil. We wer-”

Nix’s eyes widened, and he kicked Harry discreetly under the table. “You meet the new replacements?” He asked as if Welsh hadn’t spoken.

Raising an eyebrow, she sat in the empty seat beside Lew. “What was that, Lieutenant?”

“Uhh, we were gonna ask you about the replacements,” he replied slowly, glancing at Nix for confirmation.

Though she didn’t understand Harry’s odd behavior, she didn’t push it. “They seem nice. I’ve just met Heffron after George and Buck conned him playing darts.”

Lew took a swig of his flask, throwing an arm on the back of (y/n)’s chair, his fingertips lightly brushing her shoulder. “Bull will take care of them,” he began. “He’s a good sergeant.”

(Y/n) nodded, unsure of her voice at his subtle touch. One touch and she was down for the count. Thinking back to D-Day and the way he held her, heat spread through her. She looked down at the drink in her hand and realized she needed a refill.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get another drink,” she announced, getting up from her seat.

Lew got up, too, grabbing his signature flask. “I’ll come with. Harry, don’t cause too much trouble while we’re gone, alright?”

He rolled his eyes, shooing them away with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah. Go on. I’ll survive.”

The duo made their way for the crowd before leaning against the bar.

“I thought you only drink VAT-69,” she questioned, motioning to the barkeep for two beers.

Nix faced her, his eyes scanning her face. “My supply is running low, so I’ve gotta cut back until I can get some more.”

The bartender returned with two beers and she gratefully took them, returning to their table with Nix in tow. As soon as they sat down, he placed his arm around her chair once again, and she took a big sip of her drink, knowing she would need it to make it through the night.

“So, how’s the officer’s life treating you two?” She asked, trying to hide the blush that crept up her neck.

Harry took a deep breath. “Well…”

An hour and a few drinks later, (y/n) was throwing her head back in laughter at something Harry said. Nix just chuckled beside her, knowing she was drunk due to the fact Harry’s comment wasn’t funny at all.

Her head felt as if was stuffed with cotton, and the world was tilted slightly off its axis, but regardless, she was chatting away with the two Lieutenants.

“Ya’know,” she giggled, waving her hands around emphatically. “Kitty’s a lucky gal ‘ta have ya, Har. Outta all-”

Her hand caught a glass and sent it flying, beer spilling across the table.

“Oh no.”

Lew stood up and gently grasped her elbow, helping her to her feet. “Come on, doll. You’ve had enough.”

“Lewis,” she whined. “I’m not drunk.”

His chuckled. “Really?”

“Uh, ‘yeh.”

“Okay,” he smirked, pointing behind her. “Try to walk to Luz.”

(Y/n) nodded and wobbly took one, two, three steps before tilting to her right, arms flailing. Luckily, Lew was ready and caught her by her waist effortlessly.

“I guess I am drunk,” she murmured into his shoulder.

Her attempt gained the attention of her squadmates who still sat at the same table from hours earlier. Don and George walked over, faces painted with concern.

“She alright?” Luz asked with a grimace.

“Yeah. She’s just a lightweight,” Nixon smirked, glancing down at the woman in his arms. “I’m gonna take her home.”

Lifting her head off his shoulder, she looked up at him. “Already there,” she whispered to herself.

To her dismay, Don had heard it, and the man’s eyes became saucers as he realized what she meant. Everything clicked in his head.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I’ll get someone to check on her in the morning.”

With a curt nod, Nix led her out of the pub and was hit with a wave of sharp, chilly air that had her huddling closer to him. He had a secure hand around her waist, keeping her upright as they walked down the cobblestone streets of Aldbourne.

“You alright down there?” He asked, squeezing her hip gently.

(Y/n) basked in his warmth. “I like it when you hold me.”

The man got choked up on his saliva and coughed a few times at her confession.

“Well,” he began slowly, staring down at her, the moonlight illuminating her face. “I like to hold you.”

“Why?”

A smile formed on his lips. “You can ask me when you’re sober, but I doubt you’ll remember any of this, sweetheart.”

She nodded once against his shoulder as they turned onto her street. Aldbourne was a quiet town, especially on a Sunday night. It was easy for one to find themselves getting lost in their thoughts. The soft glow from windows reflecting off the pavement felt like home, even if they were thousands of miles away from theirs.

In different circumstances, Lew could envision him and (y/n) on their way home from a night dancing or movie picture, giggling as young couples do, oblivious to the horrors of the world. But that wasn’t reality. They’d seen the horrors firsthand, and he envied the people who lived and loved in times of peace.

A soft voice broke him from his thoughts. “Thanks.”

Looking up and realizing they’d arrived at her billet, he reluctantly let go of her. He felt the loss of her warmth and reached out to take her hand. “Drink some water, alright? I can’t have you being grumpy tomorrow because you’re hungover.”

She smiled blearily, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for ev’rythin, Lew.”

In a moment of weakness, he sighed and tugged her closer. As Lew’s strong arms wrapped gently around (y/n)’s frame, he felt her heart beating through her chest, as if it were trying to send him a message. The scent of her hair, a delicate mix of her shampoo, and the evening breeze intoxicated his senses. All he could think about was the woman in his arms. Standing there in the warm embrace of a quiet, moonlit night, it was as if the war wasn’t raging around the world. But just as quickly as it had begun, the hug came to an end. They pulled away, eyes meeting for a fleeting moment as if searching for answers in each other’s gaze.

“G’nigh,” she giggled, walking towards her door with unsteady steps.

“Night, sweetheart,”

Once the door had closed and he heard the familiar click of the lock, he backed up onto the street shaking his head with a bashful smile.

“I’m in trouble,” he chuckled, making his way back to the bar.

September 14, 1944: ALDBOURNE, ENGLAND

(Y/n) awoke with a groan, hearing dull raps from the front door beneath her. Each knock was like a drum banging inside her skull as she made her way down the stairs. The family she was staying with was on a weekend vacation, and she was thankful their children wouldn’t see her so hungover.

(Y/n) opened the door, squinting at the bright sunlight. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” a kind voice replied. Lip.

Her eyes widened. “Sorry, Car, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“It’s alright,” he began softly. “You weren’t at the pub last night, so I wanted to let you know we’re moving out again.”

Already?.

“Okay. Thanks, Lip,” (y/n) nodded, eyes sinking to the floor as she closed the door.

Great.

September 17, 1944: Operation Market Garden

As Easy Company sat in ditches along the road to Eindhoven, an eerie silence hung in the air. Sure, Allied intelligence suspected the Krauts in the country were mostly old men and kids, but the paratroopers were on their toes, ready for whatever would come next.

(Y/n) was sandwiched between George and Skip, who were grumbling back and forth about a failed darts game the night before.

“Will you two shut up, please?” She laughed softly. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

George smirked, adjusting his helmet. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

A squadron of Allied aircraft roared overhead, and soon after, they approached the town. A window opened, and (y/n) motioned for everyone to get down as she crouched beside a fence. The person pulled out a long orange banner and tied it around the window.

“Okay, hold your fire,” Bull appeared behind them, cigar hanging from his lips.

Staring at the town above her M-1 sight, a deep pang of worry shot through her stomach. Something didn’t feel right.

The paratroopers couldn’t believe their eyes as the people of Eindhoven celebrated their liberation from the German occupation. Bright orange flags flew from every window, and (y/n) found herself smiling at the pure joy that oozed from the town.

(Y/n) and George had gotten separated from the rest of their squad in the crowd as they dodged kisses from the locals. Well, (y/n) dodged their kisses. After a few girls tried to land a smooch on her lips, she removed her helmet, showing she was a woman. Soon the town's men caught on and were trying to do the same.

She tried to push through the crowd as quickly as possible staving off any attempts from them. Looking behind her, she groaned at the empty spot where George had been. “George,” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Luz! Come on!”

A few seconds later, he appeared to her right, fresh red lipstick smeared across his lips that were quirked into a wide grin.

“Gosh, (y/n). Can’t a guy have some fun?” He joked, wiping his mouth with his hand.

Turning around, she rolled her eyes and made her way through an opening in the crowd only to be pulled to the side by her arm. “Hey!”

A familiar Philly accent filled her ears. “Come get in this picture, (y/n)!”

Babe pulled her through the crowd, and George followed, kissing as many girls as he could along the way.

“There they are!” Chuck yelled, throwing his arm around a blonde.

George and Babe stood behind a few kids wearing orange hats and waving flags, all smiling from ear to ear. A wide smile grew on (y/n)’s face as she knelt beside the kids, placing her helmet on the little girl's head beside her. The helmet tipped down, covering the girl’s face except for her crooked, snaggle-toothed smile. (Y/n) quickly fixed it for her, and to her surprise, the little girl threw herself in the woman’s arms. Fighting off tears, she sniffled and hugged the girl back before pointing to the camera.

“Smile, everybody!” (Y/n) announced.

The picture was taken with a click, and (y/n)’s eyes wandered to the left of the cameraman.

She froze, her face falling. Time slowed as she watched the scene unfold before her. A local woman with long, flowing chestnut hair and a confident stride approached Lew. (Y/n) squinted to get a better look, her heart pounding. She watched in disbelief as the stranger reached up and placed a hand on Lew’s cheek, drawing him closer. The world around (y/n) seemed to blur as the stranger’s lips met Lew’s, and they kissed, and he didn't pull away.

Time seemed to stand still for (y/n). She couldn’t comprehend what she was witnessing. Her mind raced with questions.

Why was Lew kissing her?

Her hands clenched into fists, and tears welled up in her eyes. (Y/n) felt like a statue, unable to move or speak as the painful scene played out before her. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but not so deep down, she wished it were her instead. Her heart ached, and her stomach churned with anger, jealousy, and sadness.

George tapped her shoulder, his brows furrowed. “(Y/l/n)? You alright?”

Following her line of sight, he found what she was fixated on and softly sighed.

“He’s an idiot, (y/n/n). Come on,” he murmured, hoisting her up by her arm.

She stood and blinked away angry tears that filled her vision. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but not so deep down, she wished it were her.

A small voice below her broke her train of thought. “Dank,” the little girl nodded, holding out (y/n)’s helmet. She forced a smile and took it from the girl.

George tugged her arm softly, pulling her in the opposite direction of Nix. She blindly followed in a haze, her mind muddied with hurtful thoughts. Townsfolk grabbed at her jacket as she and George made their way to the main town square where 2nd platoon was meeting.

She was snapped out of her mind by the sound of screams. Her head moved on a swivel trying to find the sound’s source. Spotting a circle of citizens up ahead, she pushed past George quickly, squeezing her way through a few men to see inside the circle.

Before her, half-naked women were on their knees, crying as their hair was roughly shaved, leaving them with blood streaking down their necks and faces. Two Dutch resistance fighters bumped past (y/n) with another petrified woman in their arms. They threw her down and began to rip the clothes off her body. (Y/n)’s eyes narrowed as a burning sensation filled her chest.

“Hey!” She cried, shoving one of them away from the woman. “That’s enough!”

The man recovered swiftly, but (y/n) didn’t give up. Unable to bend her to his will, he resorted to dirty tactics, shoving her forcefully and causing her to stumble and fall to the hard cobblestone street with a thud.

“Stomme meid,” he spat.

Stupid girl.

Her unclasped helmet skidded a few feet away as her head came in contact with the road. The impact knocked the wind out of her, leaving her momentarily gasping for breath.

For a few seconds, everyone’s eyes were on the (y/n), then all hell let loose. Easy’s men were trying to get to her with enraged shouts but were unable to get through the crowd. With great effort, (y/n) pushed herself up off the ground, her face flushed but her spirit unbroken. She looked the man squarely in the eyes, refusing to show fear despite the pain in her chest.

The man leered down at her with a smirk as he switched to heavily accentuated English. “Maybe we should teach you a less-”

(Y/n) lost all self-control as her arm reeled back ready to swing, but someone grabbed it tightly and tried to pull her away from the man. Seeing a flash of dark hair, she knew it was him, and her fury only grew. (Y/n) resisted, her heart pounding with adrenaline.

“No, Nix!” She protested, her voice filling with fiery determination. She wriggled free from his grasp for a moment, her eyes still locked onto the resistance fighters. “Let go of me! They can’t do this! We can’t let them do this!”

He stepped in front of (y/n), blocking her view of the confrontation, and looked deeply into her eyes. “(Y/n), I know, all right? I wish we could, but we can’t do anything about it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she tried to push past him only to hear a tone he had never used with her before.

“Stop! That’s an order, (y/l/n),” he gritted, his heart squeezing in his chest at the words.

(Y/n) stared at the Officer in disbelief.

How dare he not help these poor women?

Tears filled her eyes for the second time that day as she took one more look at the poor woman on the ground. “I’m sorry,” she whispered before shoving her way back through the crowd.

Lew’s eyes followed her until she disappeared into the mob. Sighing, he ran a hand down his face.

What a difference a few days can bring.

One of the men behind him spoke. “She’s a lively one, no?”

“Shut it,” Nix snapped, scooping (y/n)’s discarded helmet off the street.

When he found Dick, Harry, and Buck, he handed the helmet to her platoon leader. “It’s (y/n)’s.”

Buck took it with a nod as the four officers watched the British Armored Division come rumbling down the street.

It was going to be a long operation.

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softguarnere · 9 months

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Hi! Hope you are doing well. I read your headcanon on what they would do if reader wouldn't date a smoker. I was wonder if you could expand on luz? I love the I idea of him and his hands and it got me thinking if maybe he would star playing with readers hair. Just to have something to do with his hands.

Cold Turkey

George Luz x reader

A/N: As always, this is written for the fictionalized characters from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans! You can find the hc that this request was based on here! I was so happy to get this request - I feel like I don't get to write for Luz all that often. I'm currently in a very loud environment, though, so if this is riddled with mistakes, I'm sorry! Thank you so much for the request, and I hope you like this 💕🕊️ Warnings: smoking, language, war

“Damnit Luz!” Joe’s chair screeches across the floor as he scoots it away from the radioman. A deep scowl marks his face as he glares at his friend. Everyone else at the table snickers, including Luz, who brushes it off with a shrug. Joe, however, isn’t done. “You’re gonna take out someone’s eye if you keep waving your hands around like that!”

“Oh, come on Joe,” Skinny cuts in. “He only hit your shoulder. Wasn’t even close to your eye.”

George nods along. “Yeah Joe. Come on.”

Joe only shakes his head. “All I’m saying is that the danger of being injured around you has gone up exponentially since you stopped smoking.”

At this, everyone at the table glances at you. They’re not very subtle. Under their sudden attention, you set down the glass you’ve been sipping from and sit up a bit straighter.

“I never told Luz to quit smoking,” you point out.

“No,” Guarnere agrees. “But you did say that you would never be with someone who smokes.”

Joe snaps his fingers, one loud click that exclaims, My point exactly!

Well, they’ve got you there.

Yes, one time while sitting around with the rest of the company and shooting the shit, you may have casually mentioned that you could never date a man who has the fondness for cigarettes that so many of the Easy Company men display. Honestly, though, some of them smoke like chimneys. Having that much smoke blown in your face when you’re around them has led to many splitting headaches. When this war is over, it would be nice to never again worry about experiencing the waves of nausea that overtake you at the scent of cigarette smoke.

To be fair, though – “I can’t help the fact that George likes me so much that he decided to go cold turkey.”

None of them can argue with that. George smiles so wide that he can’t even crack a joke about your relationship or how much he likes you.

It is, however, an undeniable fact that ever since Luz quit smoking, he hasn’t quite figured out what to do with his hands. And as someone who likes to talk, to crack jokes, tell stories, it has led to a lot of expressive gestures that no one seemed to expect from him. Also undeniable is the fact that he often accidentally smacks into whoever is nearest him. Like Toye, his newest and unwitting victim from a few seconds ago.

Bill stands and, leaning across the table, grabs one of your hands and one of George’s, and places them together on the table. The two of you automatically intwine your fingers and Bill retakes his seat with a nod, satisfied by his work.

“There. (Y/N) can just hold his hand to make sure that he doesn’t take out anyone’s eye.”

“Hmmm, that could work.” You smile. “Except, with the fraternization policy, what will we do if Captain Sobel catches us?” After all, there may be some well-known relationships between male and female paratroopers, but the only reason that they’ve lasted so long is that the captain has been unable to find any proof of them. When the others at the table sigh, you shrug. “What? Can I not play devil’s advocate?”

“Just keep your boyfriend from taking out anyone’s eye,” Guarnere grumbles. “Figure something out.”

. . .

To be fair, George does try his best not to go smacking into people when he talks. Big, sweeping hand gestures are reserved for when he gets really excited. Becoming bruised by sitting next to Luz during a story becomes less of a concern as the war drags on. But it’s not until Hagenau that you realize why.

The skeletal, hollow buildings, so sad in their stature and dingey in appearance, offer more privacy than the foxholes of Holland and Belgium. And, once you get placed on supply duty with George, they provide more time with him.

Side by side, you take a break from sorting boxes, sitting on the floor with your backs against the wall. George is slowly coming back to himself after Bastogne. He’s . . . different, somehow, but his jokes are no longer as dark and he doesn’t scowl so much.

It hits you then, alone with him. George’s voice is light. He’s in the middle of a story about something that happened when he was in high school, and not once have you been at risk of being hit by his gesticulations. Then you realize why – as he talks, George has had his arm around your shoulders, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger as he talks.

No one has ever played with your hair like this before. George is so gentle about it, too – not at all like the big, dramatic hand gestures that the rest of the company used to tease him about. There’s something very intimate about it. You could melt right there on the spot.

More supplies are brought in to sort, forcing the two of you to break away from each other and get back to work. As you work, you can’t help but think about the tenderness of his actions. Has he done this before? No, surely you would have noticed. George has held your hand, held you tight in an embrace, plenty of times before. This, though, is something entirely new. Where did it come from?

Asking him is the obvious answer. The opportunity presents itself when you’re alone again.

“Hey, George?”

The radioman looks up from the box he’s sorting through. His eyes are bright, but there’s a weariness about them that wasn’t there before that month in the freezing cold – before the injuries and the deaths of his closest friends.

“Yes?” He asks.

What if he never does it again? you wonder, just because you asked about it?

You press your lips into a smile. “Nothing,” you lie.

George raises his eyebrows but says nothing. He offers you a grin. “Okay.”

. . .

“I’m glad I didn’t ask.”

You say it casually, offering no explanation. After a moment of silence, of waiting for more, the mattress shifts as George pushes himself up on his elbow beside you. In the rosy morning light that leaks through the windows, he’s beautiful as he looks down at you with a raised brow.

“You gonna elaborate, or - ?”

“Back in Hagenau.”

“Uh huh. What about it?”

He doesn’t seem to have any clue what you’re talking about, even though the very thing you’re talking about is happening right now; his fingers are gently carding themselves through a lock of your hair as he watches you. A smile spreads across your lips, causing George to huff a laugh.

“What?” He asks.

“This.”

“This?”

Gently, you reach up to touch his hand that is playing with your hair. George glances down at it, never stopping his gentle motions. After a moment, he looks back at you.

“Your hair?”

“Yes.” You tap a finger against his hand. “Playing with it, I mean. I noticed it back in Hagenau, and I was worried that if I asked about it that you might stop.”

“You like it?” When you nod, George pauses to smile before he resumes playing with your tresses. “You know what’s funny? I never even really realized that I was doing it. I guess it just felt kind of natural, somehow.”

“Well don’t stop now,” you say. After all, it’s been years. Which has given you lots of time to enjoy George’s affections in this way. Still, you hope that it never stops. Not when you’re so used to it. Not when you like it so much.

George lays back down beside you now, but not before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. His hands are still in your hair when he says, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

#george luz #george luz x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers head canon #my writing #band of brothers imagine #hbo war fanfic #hbo war

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misscammiedawn · 3 months

Text

DID Representation in The Incredible Hulk (Part 2)

Continuing on from Part 1 in which I explained the background of the Banner System I wanted to discuss the marriage between Bruce Banner and Betty Talbot Ross-Banner and break down relationships between systems and singlets.

This is a topic that is tackled often in media and one that could be its own topic of focus within DID representation.

Some may have a complicated love triangle where a singlet is in love with two members of a system or have dynamics where members of a system love different partners and even stories involving introjects of loved ones who are treated as living memories.

The romance tropes and "split personality" tropes really do go hand in hand and for the most part those stories are not what I would consider DID representation as the trope exists to facilitate the story. The drama is often sourced from at least one party in the situation not understanding or consenting to the dynamics of the plurality at play or a member of a system attempting to actively sabotage the relationship.

Where I would start considering it moving out of trope territory and into representation territory is when the condition is treated as part of the reality of being in a relationship and something which has to be navigated as surely as any other life circumstance.

Today I'm going to talk about the romance in Hulk comics. Particularly surrounding the relationship between Joe Fixit and Betty Ross.

Since the very first issues in 1962 Betty Ross has known the man she was in love with was both Bruce Banner and Hulk. Bruce's DID may have been a curveball thrown at her down the line, as mentioned in part 1 it was not codified until the mid-80s, but it was never a secret. In the previous part of this essay I noted that Bruce did not have the strength within himself to accept his condition and he was emotionally distant and ran away from the people who loved him.

Bruce has the option of not dealing with his condition. Betty does not.

Hulk is a rare comic where it shows a hyperbolic reality of engaging in a relationship with someone who has a dissociative disorder. Betty and Banner do not have a good marriage. They show a lot of red flags, some more worrying than others. But they deal with those issues and thus they display them on the page well enough to have a conversation about it.

And that's why I wanted to highlight it.

Immortal Hulk #48 (Al Ewing - 2021)

In this issue Betty and Joe have just had a passion fueled reunion that lead to them enjoying some private time in a hotel room. The circumstances are complicated but she had walked out on Bruce earlier in the story. Betty has been trying to show him the imperfections in herself (physically represented by her Red Harpy form) and Bruce has been refusing to engage with the "monster" in the place of his wife.

Gamma tends to make physical that which lays under the surface. When Bruce looks away from Red Harpy he is truly looking away from viewing his wife as anything other than perfect.

Towards the end of the Immortal Hulk storyline Betty returned to the plot and found that Bruce was still "hiding" from her so she got close to Joe instead and the two proceed to have an adult conversation about their broken marriage and just where Joe fits in with it.

We'll cover Immortal Hulk 48 in more detail a little more later. It's one of my favorite comics of all time.

But before I continue I want to point out Joe and Betty's disagreement on whether this is cheating or not. "You married Banner" "You're a part of him" to paraphrase.

Relationship dynamics with systems come in a variety of different shapes and sizes. In writing this essay I have no intention of stating any version is better or worse than another and I recognize that different circumstances have different needs.

Many of my friends who I know from support communities hold Joe's view. That individual alters have the agency to consent to be included in relationships with the system or not. Others hold Betty's view, that to be in love with the system is to be in love with every part of the person, regardless of whether they were present enough to consent at the time the relationship began.

I am in Betty's camp. Some of my closest friends with DID are in Joe's. There are other camps. But there is one thing that I have seen discussed in every single support group I've been part of and it's that members of the system dating outside of a monogamous relationship without explicit consent is and will always be cheating. Emphasis on communication and consent.

Incredible Hulk 376 (Peter David - 1990)

I am polyamorous and our system considers all of us in each relationship, even if we understand that this ideal is not exactly easily integrated into a relationship. I'll not peel back the curtain but there's a lot of inner and external management that goes into that conceit. One of our partners explicitly has a relationship with all 5 of us, our other partners have a relationship with "us" that is less concerned about individual dynamics and neither version of this scenario is preferred over the other. Every relationship is different. Even if one of those relationships contains 5. Like everything with being in treatment, it's about being flexible, understanding, compromising and accommodating.

As noted above, Joe does not consider himself to be Bruce and so he does not feel like he has to honor Bruce's marriage. In the 80s run when Joe gains his name and acts as a Las Vegas enforcer he has a romance with a young woman named Marlo Chandler. Regretfully she is not overtly mentioned in Immortal Hulk #48 though Betty does bring up that Joe had a whole life in Vegas that he had hidden away from her. Marlo was part of that life.

In the tail end of the Vegas arc of comics Betty returns to Bruce's life after thinking him dead for over 6 months. Marlo shows up and is surprised to see Bruce, someone she was told was Joe's brother. Joe and Marlo's relationship was formed while Bruce was dormant and after he returned the cover story was that Bruce Bancroft was Joe Fixit's brother. Joe does not consider himself to be Bruce and so does not honor his marriage. As you see in the above page, everyone else involved does not see it the same way.

A highlight from this era is a few issues earlier where Betty and Joe have their first adult discussion. It's an absolute classic comic and is directly referenced in Immortal Hulk #48. Betty and Joe have great energy together and trust one another, though Joe fears her as the system's attachment to her leaves them feeling vulnerable and lowers the walls between alters. It's a shame that this was 4 issues before the forced fusion. I'd have loved to have seen more interactions between the pair.

Incredible Hulk #373 (Peter David - 1990)

Sidenote that issue has my favorite Hulk cover of all time.

They don't have a lot of time together but Betty and Joe had great chemistry in these comics, especially when compared to how Bruce treats her. The following pages are both from the same issue:

Incredible Hulk #374 (Peter David - 1990)

Bruce does love Betty but he hates himself more than he loves her and she long has to deal with him putting up walls and keeping a distance. Where Banner fears the "monster" he becomes, in no canon does Betty ever fear any incarnation of Hulk.

She does however resent being coddled. Her father was overly protective of her because her mother died, her first husband, Glenn Talbot, was overly protective of her and now Bruce has picked up that sin. She hates being treated as helpless.

For sake of clarity and addressing the "early installment weirdness" I'll note that it wasn't until Byrne's run in the 80s that Betty gained a backbone. During the 80s period of comics Byrne and David codified her as a fierce and strong-willed woman and that characterization has remained with her ever since.

The reason Bruce is so temperamental about the woman he loves and why all the Hulk's, even Devil, are typically so good to her is...

Well...

Incredible Hulk #377 (Peter David - 1991)

I'll let that speak for itself.

The Vegas arc is not the only time that Bruce has seemingly died and been content to let his wife think he is deceased.

Bruce's emotional distance from Betty is another all too real depiction of traumatized adults who are not managing their symptoms. Trauma in all forms remains with a person and steers their behavior. In the extreme this can lead to phobias and mildly it can lead to avoidance.

Bruce is constantly driven to avoid pain. He is depressed, self-loathing and withdrawn and no matter how much he pulls away he is unable to secure for himself a sense of comfort and security. When he withdraws from his wife he is indulging in a maladaptive coping mechanism that tells him that he will be hurt if he gets closer to her.

A quote from Bruce in Immortal Hulk #14 "Betty... I know. I should have... called someone. But I--I wasn't ready. It's like I knew that in my gut. I couldn't face it. I've learned to trust feelings like that. They protect me."

Joe, who is emotionally removed from the source of their trauma, does not live in terror of the memories that haunt the rest of the system. Bruce may have repressed memories of his father's worst deeds (and the fact that he, himself, murdered the man) but he still feels the terror that is attached to love.

Devil overtly spells it out during the Immortal Hulk storyline by saying "Deep down inside. He's still that kid. A little kid who can't imagine love without pain." which is sadly an all too true reality for many suffering with DID. We don't need to be child alters to still be eternally living through events that happened decades ago.

In the Immortal Hulk storyline Bruce spent months estranged from her and when he got back to her she ended up caught in crossfire and died herself, only to awaken the gamma in her blood and be resurrected as Red Harpy.

There's a lot of Comics stuff there about Betty's mutate forms (Harpy and Red She-Hulk) and how gamma mutation is psychological in how it presents. All that is needed to be known is that Betty simmers with a silent fury. She has been treated as a trophy her entire life, protected and sheltered by her military general father, all but traded as a dowry to one of her father's loyal men, Glenn Talbot, and then long suffering as Bruce Banner's wife.

Even her Red She-Hulk form was forcibly taken away against her wishes by Bruce "for her own good".

Immortal Hulk #14 (Al Ewing - 2019)

For this reason after she is killed again, her latest gamma mutation draws out a feathered and fanged harpy, something she entirely identifies as with no shame, represented by her instant and intentional transformations between forms. Her catchphrase is "this is ME."

Bruce cannot accept this is the person he married. Joe actively admires and encourages her self-acceptance.

Here's a page where Bruce escapes from a conversation that he himself initiated because he cannot stand to face an imperfect version of Betty:

Immortal Hulk #22 (Al Ewing - 2019)

This all comes to a head when Betty approaches Joe and asks to speak to her husband and after switching out, Bruce feels cornered enough to lash out and demand to speak to his wife. Betty, realizing Bruce will never accept this side of her leaves.

Which brings us back to the hotel room after she reunites with Joe.

The argument breaks out when Betty scornfully notes that if Bruce objected to them being together then he should come out and say it himself, knowing full well that he will continue withdrawing and hiding from her.

Joe admits that Bruce isn't there because he's in hell. There's a very long and interesting explanation to that which is entirely literal.

But the point is that he allowed their reunion and passionate evening to persist without saying that. It clues Betty in to the fact that Joe may be better at hiding it and may be better at smooth talking than the system's host is but he is just as avoidant.

She does not take it well.

Immortal Hulk #48 (Al Ewing - 2021)

But here's the part that really solidifies these two as a pair of grown-ups.

Joe admits to his fuck-up, offers some additional vulnerability (Betty herself refuses to believe Joe is capable of vulnerability and lashes out at him for attempting to emotionally manipulate her) by confessing to his origins as a child's idea of a man.

The little bits of truth about the condition that spill out during this conversation truly show how much empathy Ewing put into depicting DID as accurately as he could for a comic about world breaking atomic beasts. "If I wanted to lie, I coulda said I didn't remember. We usually don't" and "I... we, All of us. The whole damn system... We're messed up" are lines which feel like they could come up during a conversation on these topics.

I cannot even tally the amount of guilt we feel in discussions where we know our brain should be retaining the information and that we want to remember and be clear but we can't. The hardest part is to not just lean on the condition as an excuse or out for many of the valid discussions that come up when navigating a relationship.

At the end of the day the only way to manage these troubled waters is with trust and communication, same as any other relationship.

Joe gives that a try, even.

Immortal Hulk #48 (Al Ewing - 2021)

DID is a hidden illness. It's denial disease. It is sourced from a level of emotional agony that is too present, too constant and too inescapable. It's why, until the age of the internet where ability to recognize symptoms without medical guidance due to knowledge and resources being widespread, the average age of diagnosis is 30 despite symptoms being prevalent from childhood.

Relationships with disordered systems are difficult. When an adult has a trauma response that causes them to dissociate, hide and reject sources of pain and conflict they will inevitably fail to communicate and cause additional friction in a relationship.

Joe here makes his absolute best attempt to bridge that gap. He accepts his failings. Admits fault and attempts to communicate with honesty and vulnerability.

I do not know where Banner/Ross' marriage will go in the future. There's a lot of hurt there. It won't be smoothed over with a single conversation. It won't be healed until Bruce is able to be present in the conversation.

But my heavens this is the most mature discussion I have ever seen on the topic in fiction. Bruce is the personification of the phrase "Hurt people hurt people.", he doesn't mean it. None of the system truly means it (well... sometimes they mean it. They have anger issues after all) but they want to try and be better. Joe does, anyway.

And the sad fact is that sometimes that can be too little, too late.

Betty leaves after the above page. A hopeful person can claim that she was summoned by Dr. Strange's magical call for champions but it doesn't matter. She decides she has seen everything the Banner System has to offer and needs some time for herself.

I look forward to seeing if we ever get a follow-up to this. It's been 2/3 years.

And that brings me to the end of this little detour.

I'll likely be back with more Hulk talk in the future. There are a lot of storylines to cover. But for now, thank you for reading my little squee on this particular comic book relationship. It means a great deal to me.

If you enjoyed my little ramble about DID representation please consider checking out my Media, Myself and I tag. Otherwise, thank you for reading.

Oh and buy Immortal Hulk. It's legitimately one of the best comic runs of all time.

#dawn posting #hulk #comics #bruce banner #betty ross #dissociative identity disorder #media myself and i #hulk posting #this is she #its mahvul baybe

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kaydeefalls · 1 year

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🔥 choose violence ask game

1) What's the character everyone gets wrong? or

2) you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Heyyy let's go. I'm going to sorta split the difference between these two questions and kvetch about a popular character fanon that just completely baffles me re: Nicky from TOG.

What on earth is up with the incredibly common interpretation of Nicky as quiet/awkward/shy/socially inept? What movie did y'all watch? He's incredibly emotionally perceptive and forthright, he does his best to put Nile at ease in an inherently awkward situation when she first meets the group, he easily engages with other characters. Sure, Joe is the one who delivers the van speech, but I got curious and counted once, and Nicky legitimately has more lines in the movie than Joe - he's not at all reticent to speak up! I see people pointing to his "inability to read the room" in his dialogue with Merrick and Kozak, but like - they are the villains in this story, he is deliberately trying to unsettle them, that is a conscious choice he is making and not just bumbling into saying something awkward!

Look, he's also a thousand years old at this point, I believe all the immortals have grown and changed over their lifetimes, so it doesn't bother me as much when reading Crusades-era fic. Nicky in particular had to go through some serious personal reflection and growth in order to get from there to here, so I'll totally buy that he was a rather different person in his early days, significantly less self-assured etc. But goddamn if I can sit through another modern AU with fumbling, socially tone deaf Nicky, it just bears NO resemblance to the character I love or his relationship with Joe, and it drives me up a wall.

#ask me anything #the old guard #nicolo di genova

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romancingdaffodils · 1 year

Text

Pictures and Portraits

The Pub - part 4

THANK YOU JADE FOR THE WHOLE IDEA OF MOST OF THIS JADE IS A LITTLE GENIUS RAHHHHH

FLUFF!!! some excessive drinking but nothing else

ARTIST!WILBUR X READER

thank you for enjoying this series so much :D

1K WORDS BAYBEEEEEEEEEEEEE

there is so much more to come and i genuinely hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoy writing it <3333

You hadn’t realised just how drunk artists could get. Especially Wilbur. He was sat next to you, all bubbly, and giggly. His arm hadn’t moved from your waist the whole night. You’d been at the pub for about two hours now; you were unsure how many drinks Wil had inhaled in that time. You had all been sat round a sticky table, sharing stories about nights out, and embarrassing stories about Wil. That’s probably why he got so drunk. You thought you’d never have a more perfect night with anyone other than Wilbur.

Ash and Joe had told you about Tommy, Wilbur’s actual best friend. You looked forward to meeting Tom, apparently he and Wil were like brothers. From what you’d heard: the two were so different, and yet so similar. Tom loved Wil, the elder always reciprocated but in a meaner way. You found it quite sweet, plus you knew Tommy would have more to tell you. More leverage. You couldn’t wait to meet more of Wilbur’s friends - to discover him through others.

You were laughing at a joke a very drunk Ash had told, your not quite boyfriend frowned. He looked genuinely upset, and you weren’t quite sure why. As you’d discovered in the last hours when he was drunk Wilbur was very much the golden retriever type. He had been clinging onto you, like ivy to an old house. You didn’t mind. You never minded. As you were soon to discover, his clingy nature when drunk came with more than you had realised.

“You okay, Wil?” you asked, clearly concerned.

“Come with me.” he responded, he looked and sounded kind of annoyed now. You felt so clueless to his drunk emotions. You’d had a bit yourself, and even though you weren’t drunk - you weren’t fully sober either. He stood up, wobbling, you smiled, and shook your head standing up to hold out your own hand. He led you towards the exit, the cold air hit you. It pricked your cheeks, and made your eyes sting.

“What’s up?” you asked, shivering at the feeling of the wind. Wilbur frowned once more and slipped off his jacket, placing it over your shoulders. This was before the rant began.

“What do you think you’re doing, y/n?!” he said, not quite shouting.

“What did I do?! I’m- sorry??” you replied, panicked really. You didn’t know how you had managed to upset him. What if you were boring, and terrible? What if he just kept talking to you because he felt sorry for you? You felt sick, so incredibly sick.

“Who let you look this pretty? How am I supposed to have you to myself if you’re so unbelievably gorgeous? Look at you! Y’everything, so pretty. All dolled up again.” he responded, looking entirely serious. His hands were back on your waist, pulling you into him. He was looking straight down at you, frown on his face. You could’ve cried. He was so pathetic, but so kind.

“Wi-“ you started, you were attempting to reason with him. You’d told him he was far too nice to you. You were so convinced you barely knew each other, that he’d hate you whenever he realised you were a complete mess. He felt the same way. Both of you were so anxious about being left by the other. Two complete idiots in the process of falling deeply in love with each other. Soon enough, it wouldn’t be a crush. It would be love. Pure, and true love.

“Shhh, pretty, you’ve had a long day. My lovely sweetheart, sat through the longest exhibition ever, and didn’t complain once. Y’so sweet. So cute.” he said, his sentences split up between the kisses he was peppering across your face. His words merged together in a drunken haze, you were almost in tears. You placed your hands on the side of his face, laughing lightly. He had called you his. You felt so insane, so adored, but yet so undeserving. He moved, you moved. His hands gripped your hips now, he had you backed up against the brick wall of the pub - lips pushed together. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, as though he’d been waiting decades. It’d been a few hours, but to him it was all the same. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, both holding each other as close as possible. You felt like butter in his hands, melting beneath his touch. You were almost certain you got some dirty looks from by-passers, you didn’t care. You felt so at peace.

He finally pulled away, reluctant. But you both needed to breathe, it was like having the wind knocked out of your lungs. You smiled up at him, he laughed. He thought you were so great. His drunken state couldn’t put his emotions into words, you were just happily smiling. He returned the favour.

“Stay at mine tonight. Pretty please. You’re too brilliant to share with the rest of the world.” he adds, the request hung heavily in the air. He’s drunk. He’s so very very drunk. And yet, he’s so sweet. Wishing you could hide him away, make sure no one else ever got to see this heart wrenching display you nod. You were glad his apartment was within walking distance. Also, very glad that he had his address with directions on his phone.

After many stumbles, and stops for affectionate kisses you arrived at his flat. He locked the door behind you both, flopping down onto the couch afterward. You giggled, and looked down at him. He was very pretty. You’d argue even more pretty with a drunken smile, hair on his face and legs sprawled out. One leg was hooked over the back of the couch, the other dangling down over the edge, and touching the floor.

“Do you want some water, Wil?” you asked, beginning to walk towards where you assumed the kitchen was.

“No.” he replied, grabbing hold of your legs. You yelped. He pulled you down, this caused you to tumble down on top of him. He simply laughed, keeping you close.

“Wil. You’re very drunk.”

“I know, dove.”

“Let me get you some water.”

“Mhm. Later.”

“You can’t sleep on the couch.”

“Watch me.”

“Wil.”

“Sweetness.”

“Let’s go to bed.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

“Stop it. You’re a fool.”

“You’re cruel.” Wil said, still restricting your movement. You were cruel to him, only because he was a fool for you.

#artist!wilbur #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #please help #wilbur x you #wilbur soot x you #i lobe them #artistbur #wilbur fanfiction

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redheadspark · 2 years

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omg would you ever write a part 2 for star struck maybe when they first meet on set and their relationship building up until he goes on jimmy fallon! i’m actually in love with your writing x

A/N: OMG I love this. SO SO SORRY for taking so long to write this, life got in the way and I had to handle some stuff! I hope you like it :)

Love At First Take

Summary: Being an extra on Stranger Things was already a dream come true for you. But to fall in love with Joseph Quinn....that was an added bonus.

Warnings: Just come fluffy cuteness!!!

Sequel to Starstruck

"And CUT! That was great, reset everyone!"

That day was an amazing and trying day for you, being on the set of Stranger Things as an extra and seeing all the hype and what it was cracked up to be. You were lucky enough to be an extra with a girlfriend of yours, the casting call going out from Georgia and you both drove down from Boston when they reached out and wanted you two. So you both pulled together some money for traveling, able to crash at her relative's house in Atlanta while you two were going to be extras, and lastly you piled into your little car, making it to Georgia in the knick of time.

What a dream come true!

You were sitting at a cafeteria table with some other extras, all of you were clad in your high school 80's attire and ready for see some of the major stars of the TV. You all were excited, beyond excited, when Finn and Gaten were on set and ready for their take. Of course, some of the newer characters and the actors playing them were at their marks too, one of them seemed to have caught your eye and made your stomach flip.

Joseph Quinn, playing the metal head Eddie Munson.

He was an English actor, already making waves with the co-stars on set with rumors of his kindness and quirky sense of humor. He seemed to be a very nice guy, always cheerful coming on set in his wig and Hellfire Club attire. Of course you thought he was American when he did the first take at the Hellfire Club table in the cafeteria, yet once the take was done and he used his English accent, your eyes raised up and you grinned.

Damn, he did sound quite attractive.

You two met between takes 3 and 4 in the cafeteria scene, you running into him on accident and you two bumping shoulders. He was moving to get into another spot, not seeing you for a split moment. But once you two collided shoulder wise, he whirled around quickly and looked concerned as you shrugged it.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't see...you," He slowed down a bit, taking in your high school attire. You were dressed as one of the party-kids, your hair in an offsides ponytail and in bright neon colors. But you grinned, seeing his eyes trained on your face and not your clothes alone. The way he looked at you, almost like he was engraining your image in his mind, it made your stomach flip.

"Oh, it's okay!" You replied in a shrug, waving him off, "I'm fine! No harm no foul,"

Joe grinned at you, a genuine smile that made you see all of his teeth and the small hint of dimples on his cheeks there. You grinned back, about to move away and go back to your seat before you turned back at him and pointed at him.

"By the way...you're doing really great as Eddie," You complimented, then ducking your head with a hint fo blush on your cheeks to slide back into your spot. The other extras were chatting with one another, not noticing you making a shy smile on your face and how your foot was jittery. It felt bold enough to flirt with him, someone who's a legit actor on the set of one the biggest Shows in Netflix history, or in TV history in general. But for some reason, it felt natural to compliment him. Even more when you looked up and saw Joe walk back over to his spot at the Hellfire Club table, seeing a genuine smirk on his face and a hint of fondness in his eyes, that made your grin wider too.

"Already, right where we left off! Extras start chatting and moving...and....ACTION!"

"Well," Joe huffed as he got up on the table and starting walking on the surface, "As long as you're into band.....or science.....or....pparrtieess." He whined at your table, making you and the extras sneer at him like you practiced. But for a split moment you two locked eyes, his brown ones to your bright green ones, and you felt like you could freeze into a statue then. Perhaps he did feel the way too, but that would be silly in your mind. Those two seconds of you two watched one another felt like a solid minute, such a silly thing to think about when you two barely spoke for no more than a few seconds, yet Eddie went on.

"OR A GAME WHERE YOU TOSS BALLS INTO LAUNDRY BASKETS!" He roared in a taunting manner to the jock table. You were beaming on the inside, fee liking love a lovesick teenager for someone who seemed so out of reach from you.

And you merely spoke a handful or words to the guy.

3 Weeks Later

"So, you're in Hozier?"

"And you're not?"

Joe chuckled as you two were sitting on a picnic table, watching a scene not too far away out at the Hawkin's Library where Maya and Natalia were filming. You were eating some grapes that was nestled on your lap as Eddie was sporting his infamous wig. The air was sticky and humid with the sun behind the clouds, giving some comfort but not a whole lot.

Joe found you after the scene was wrapped in the cafeteria, flagging you down before you could escape to the costume department and get back into your real clothes. You were floored to see him approach you, and even more so when he asked what you name was. Maybe he was just being nice, that's what you thought as he asked if you were going to be sticking around as an extra for the rest of the series. When you said yes, you could have sworn his smile could radiate the sun that was already beating down on you all.

Since then, if you were on set, Joe would wave at you and jog over to say hello. Some of the extras looked over with a hint of jealousy to see you chatting with one of the stars, not that the other stars were mean or cruel. They were all so nice to the extras, chatting with them and enjoying their company. Especially Joe, whom was kind and was giving hugs to those who asked for them. But he would always find his way to you and seek you out, and you never knew why. But one of the first conversations you two had was on music, you mentioning how you were a bit of a Metallica fan because of your father. That spiraled into music genres, who was great and who was too mainstream. Joe was interested in your taste in music, you two talking and chatting throughout most of the way when you were shooting a scene.

"His music is nice and slow," You explained as you popped a grape in your mouth, Joe watching with a smirk as you shrugged, "One of my favorites is Like Real People Do. It's gorgeous,"

"Haven't heard it yet," He replied, "I've only heard Take Me To Church."

"Oh you're missing out!" You reasoned, "One of his best ones is called Work Song. The lyrics alone are breathtaking and just....heart-aching," You sighed, tilted your head to the side as you smiled. Joe chuckled, making you eye him suspiciously

"What?" You asked, Joe chuckling.

"They way you talk about music is..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words but nothing was working for him.

"Silly?" You asked, though he shook his head.

"Quite lovely," He replied, his accent mouth and rolling off his tongue as you looked at him with a small smile. Your ducked your head for a split moment, "Honestly, I love hearing you talk about music,"

"Oh....thanks," You thanked Joe, seeing him nod his head, "I try not to get carried away when I talk about it. But don't take it from me, go listen to that song when you have the chance. You're gonna love it,"

"You swear?" Joe asked as he nudged your shoulder with his, his voice sounding a bit like a tease. You heard your friend call out your name from afar, you looking down at your watching and notching that it was time for you to head home for the day. As much as you wanted to stay with Joe and talk some more about music, you knew it was time to go.

"I swear," You replied cooly, hopping off the table and waving at him, "Talk to you later, Joe! Night!"

"Goodnight!" He called out to you as you were walking away from him. You shoved your hands in your pockets, kicking some leaves as you walked and grinning like a mad woman from talking with Joe. He made it seem so relaxing and calm, no one judging you two or making you feel uncomfortable as you spoke to one another. He seemed like any other guy to talk to, cracking jokes to make you laugh or pestering you about you were currently listening to or reading. Talking to him made your day fly by, even on the days where you barely were in a scene or other days where it was an all day afar.

"I think you have the female extras jealous," Your friend commented in a grin as you two were back in your street clothes and walking to her car, "What do you two talk about anyways?"

"We're just talking," You explained, "Those girls are too desperate anyhow, "Honestly, we just talk about music and what we both are reading,"

"Too cute! " She teased, unlocking her car and popping into the diver side. You were about to get into the passenger side when you heard someone jogging up to you from behind. You turned, surprised to see Joe rushing over to you.

"Hey! I wanted to ask if you were doing something......on Friday night," Joe said to you, you freeze as you were holding the door open. Maybe you were short circuiting in front of him, almost looking like you were in a daze and and not knowing how to answer him.

"She's free!" Your friend hollered in the car, you whirring around to glare at her as she grinned wickedly at you and shrug. Sighing, you looked back at Joe, seeing a soft stare at him as you nodded.

"Yeah, I'm free," You replied, Joe almost bouncing on his feet.

"Cool! Maybe we can hang out.....and get some dinner together?" He asked with a hint of hope in his eyes and in his tone. That made your heart beat beyond fast, not realizing that Jospeh Quinn asked you on a date. He was one of the actors in the show....the one whom was being swooned by the female extras and them some....and he just asked you on a date.

You!

But this was almost Joseph Quinn, the same guy who you would talk for hours with about music, books, and corny reality tv shows that were bryson trash. Who's laugh was infectious and addicting to listen to on repeat, who's gentle heart was always seem on his sleeve and his smile could light up any darkened room. So it seemed like it would be the natural answer, the best one, with no hesitation and with no remorse.

"I would love that, Joe,"

8 Months Later

"So, you're coming with me to New York, right luv?"

You poked your head up from the bed, hearing Joe talk to you from the opening into the bathroom. You grinned, moving the bedsheet to cover your upper chest since you were still taking and bare in the hotel bed. Your hair askew all over the pillow as the crisp morning was sleeping in from the open window.

"Of course, Joe! I wouldn't miss it for the world," You replied out loud, knowing he would hear it as you moved to lay out on your belly, reaching for the newspaper and opening it to read the article that you were reading the night before. It was a great social piece, you thumbing to the next page as the soft sound of barefoot was heard behind you on the hardwood floor, then stopping right at the foot of the bed.

"What a gorgeous sight this early in the morning for me," Joe said in a teasing tone behind you, you dropping the newspaper on the bed and looking behind you with a coy stare. Joe was wearing his sweats, his short curly hair looking a bit damp still from his shower and his sweet grin was on his face, the stubble hiding his dimples that you grew to love.

"Care to join me then?" You asked with a raised eyebrow, hearing him chuckle. He then moved swiftly, taking the bedsheet off of you and having you be completely naked in front of him as he slid onto the bed. You squealed, though Joe was perched over you within a second to shield you. Being chest to chest and nose to you, you both took a moment to drink one another in you reaching up to touch his curls as Joe merely smiled.

If you were asked if you were going to be in bed with Joseph Quinn mere moths after meeting him, you'd laugh. That seemed like a far fetched dream, never reachable and just something you could imagine late at night. Yet after that first date with Joe, going to a decent restaurant in town and talking like old friends, everything changed after that night for you two. You felt so at east with Joe, even after your friend picking out a decent dress and flats for you to wear and Joe wearing a dress shirt and slacks. It was a magical date, ending with Joe walking you to your place and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

That kiss changed everything.

You two were attached by the hip since then, though you had to be professional while you were at work. Eddie obviously had more for a work load than you, but that never stopped him from seeking you out when he wasn't in rehearsal or about to shoot a scene. You two still spoke, though those fleeting moments of acting like love sick teenagers did slip though every once in awhile. But you didn't care, not with Joe and how he spoke to you with love and kindness, and how he wished to hold your hand as much as possible without being in the public eye. He thrived for privacy, and as did you, since the last thing either one of your wanted was to have your relationship be exposed. There were sneaky outings you two had every weekend, you having time with Joe in his hotel room and watching a cheesy movie together, or Joe visiting your place from time to time if he really needed to escape the chaos of shooting.

When the shooting was wrapped, Joe had to head back to England. He was heartbroken leaving you behind since you two started dating in secret, but you swear you would fly out to him within a month or two after you got your own life together. You made due with your promise, flying out to London within a month or two and being picked up by Joe with a bouquet of bright yellow roses in his hand.

What a stereotypical romantic.

Joe's career was igniting because of his role of Eddie Munson, making him one of the top character on the show and on the internet. He was amazed in how big he got and how famous at the same time. You weren't, knowing deep down how great he was any who before he knew it himself. You two made sure with your relationship with one another, going back and forth from the US to London throughout that time together and still keeping your relationship under wraps. You both knew it was the safer bet, yet Gaten and Noah were the firsts ones to find out after they found you two making out near his trailer towards the end of shooting.

They swore to secrecy, which meant only the rest of the cast found out and they swore to secrecy.

Joe had interviews left and right, making appearances and doing TV Spots because of his popularity on the show. You could see how he was being thrown into the lion's den at times, almost stressed out himself sporadically. And although you could never know what that was like, you still supported him and stood by his side. Even through the negative moments and some of the false rumors about him, Joe leaned on you and felt better since you brought him peace.

Now you were in London again, Joe flying you out to spend a week with him before Joe would come back with you to the US. He was booked to appear in his first talk show appearance with Jimmy Fallon on the Tonight Show, which was a huge deal and made him beyond nervous. But you were going to be with him in New York, staying at his hotel room that the Tonight Show accommodated him with just for the interview alone. After that, you two were going to go on a vacation together, someplace that Joe picked out and would not tell you, no matter how much you begged and teased him in slipping where you were being whisked way to. Joe only said it was going to be secluded. No one else around, no one to spy in on your relationship with wandering eyes.

Just the two of you. It was going to be perfect.

"You're going to be amazing," You said to him as he was still on top of you on the bed, Joe nuzzling into your hand that was on his cheek.

"You think so?" he asked.

"I know so," You reassured him, "It's going to go off without a hitch, and they're gonna go crazy for you,"

"I just want one woman to go crazy over me," Joe reminded you coyly, leaning down to touch your noses together and barely brush your lips with his, "Cause after this interview, I'm takin' ya somewhere warm where you can glow from a sun tan..."

"You still won't tell me," You huffed against his lips, seeing him grin and peck you lips in a teasingly manner, "It's not fair..."

"No, what's not fair is that someone as amazing and beyond percent like you would want to be with someone like me," Joe explained, you cocked your head at him and gripping his jaw gently in your hand to have him look at you.

"Hey!" You lightly scolded him, "You are perfect and enough for me, Joe. I think you are, from the moment you bumped into me on set I saw you as perfect. I'll tell you over and over until you get sick of it and I'm blue in the face: I want all of you and nothing more or less. Got it?"

Joe peered into your eyes, seeing you were being truthful. You two world hard to get where you were, to be as comfortable and safe in each other's spaces. You were the first one that doubted, wondering why he would be with someone like you who wasn't an actress or someone famous. But Joe reminded you the first night you two fell into bed together, telling you against your skin and with every thrust he pushed into you that he loved everything about you. You felt that love in his arms, in his moans against your neck, and in his eyes looking right into yours as he made you climax in bliss.

"I got it, luv," He replied smoothly, moving to kiss your bare collarbone in front of him as you moved your fingers along his bare arms and back, "Thank you......for being there for me through all of this,"

"I wouldn't have to be anywhere else," You hummed, kissing him softly on the lips and feeling him kiss you back.

"And thankfully, we have the rest of the morning to be there before we head for the airport later tonight," Joe explained with a raised eyebrow at him, making you smile and blush madly on your cheeks.

"Hhhmmm, sounds lovely," You replied, pulling him your arms and having you fully pressed against you once more, "I have no intention of getting out of this bed until you kiss me all over,"

"As my lady commands," Joe replied smoothly, peppering you with kisses all over your face and making you giggle before his kisses moved to your neck, becoming more sensual and languid and you tilted your head back in bliss. And as his hands were moving to caress your bare breasts and his lips were moving downward to your collarbones, your mind could only conceive one simple fact that would be concrete for the rest of your life.

You loved Joseph Quinn. And it all started with the brush of his shoulder against yours.

The End.

Tagged: @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @steve-harringtons-slut @heartofwritiing @ftrmrs-ally-keofield @basicrese @hottpinkpenguin @virtueassassin

#joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x oc #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #fanfiction #writing #my love #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction

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malarkgirlypop · 6 months

Text

MEDIC Part 18 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Ah yes my favourite gif of all time finally has come into play, how exciting! We're in France Baby! It's a change of pace and scenery how fun! I feel we are nearing the end and then remember how much I have actually written and then I'm like oh nope we still got a bit bahaha. I'm doing a short chapter cause I was writing it and it was like a good 4k words so I thought it best to just split it into two, I know some people prefer shorter chapters.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @panzershrike-pretz, @xxluckystrike, @bucky32557038ww2 (if you want to be added let me know🥰)

The cold wind whipped at my face making me hunch further down into my jacket. We had finally arrived in Haguenau after the long journey, everyone seemed to be restless. Keen to be indoors and out of the biting elements. Don stood in the back of the truck, his mood appearing low. I wanted to ask him what seemed to be troubling him but there was no privacy on the back of the vehicle. His smiles weren’t as bright, not quite reaching his eyes. I chewed my lip nervously watching the man. They had made him Staff Sergeant, but he didn’t seem pleased.

“Hey guys.” A cheery voice called from behind me. I turned to look at the man who spoke. I didn’t recognise him. But he surely hadn’t been with us before. He looked healthy, clean, and happy. Compared to the sorry sacks who rode on the back of the truck, myself included. Was he a replacement?

“Some Lieutenant told me to report to 2nd.” The man informed us. I glanced across the truck at Lieb who shrugged. I rolled my eyes, why I looked to him for information I have no idea, he’s no help. I leant back resting on the seat between Grant and Jackson.

“Your name’s Jackson right?” The soldier asked the young man beside me. God he was so young, he assured me he was 19 but I don’t believe him, he looks like a kid.

“That’s right.” Jackson replied.

“Who’s leading the platoon?” He asked, Jackson’s eyes flicked to Don who was still standing.

“Sergeant Malarkey is.” He tells the soldier.

“What no officers?” I tilt my head while looking at the man while he talks, his face seems so familiar.

“I guess you didn’t hear.” Lieb said.

“No, what's that?” He turned his attention onto Joe.

“They’re making Malarkey a Lieutenant. He’s on the fast track now.” He says while fiddling with his lighter. A tell that he was lying, the little shit. No one said anything about his blatant lie.

“Really? That’s great.” It’s bugging me, I swear I know this dude. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo as he glances at me staring at him.

“Jackson, help me up will you?” He swings his bag onto the back of the truck, pulling himself up to sit next to Jackson. I move from my spot, not having enough room on the bench anymore without me basically sitting in Grant’s lap. I sit in between Babe and Lieb. Continuing to stare at the private. This is going to drive me insane, who is this guy?

The truck jolts forward, almost sending him flying out again. I hide my laughter behind my hand.

“So, uh, you come from the hospital?” Jackson asks him.

“Must’ve liked that hospital, cause’ we left Holland four months ago.” I nudge Lieb, silently scolding him for being mean.

“Who is this guy?” I whispered to Babe.

“Webster, I think.” My mouth flew open, that’s where I knew him from, I think I met him on my first night. Babe reaches out, shutting my mouth, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

“Well I wasn’t there the whole time. There was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot.” Webster explained.

“Well, I’m sure you tried to bust out and help us in Bastogne, Web.” Lieb was pissed off. Lieb would’ve come back and helped, like a lot of the other men did. But they can’t all be like them. Webster got off the line and had a holiday, can’t blame the man for not wanting to come back in a hurry. This was war for god sake, no one wishes to be here. Well I hope not. I mean I do but I have my reasons ok!

“I don’t know how I would’ve done that.” Webster defended himself. I looked at Babe, he seemed to notice the tension, I made a face showing my discomfort. Hiding my look behind my hand. He gave me the same look back. I chuckled and bumped him with my shoulder trying to ease the cringe we both felt in our chests. Like going over to a friends house and having to sit there and watch them be told off. So awkward.

“That’s funny cause Popeye found a way. So did Alley, right, back in Holland? And Guarnere and –” Lieb turned to Babe and I, we both nodded silently, not wanting to be dragged into the passive aggressive conversation. Lieb was the king of passive aggressiveness, let me tell you. Don’t piss off that guy. He will subtly degrade you and wear you down.

“Yeah, where is Guarnere? He still your platoon Sergeant?“ Webster asked. I could feel both Lieb and Babe stiffen next to me. I stilled too. It was hard being dragged back to that place of memories. So we didn’t mention it, and kept moving forward. So for Web to come in asking where people were, hit a nerve. It was an unspoken rule not to really speak of those who we had lost. It just made it so much harder, we didn’t have time to process or grieve really. It was for later, after this was all done and we were safe then we could process everything that had happened.

“No. He got hit.” Jackson said with a huff. Webster was not picking up on the social cues being hurled at him. How did he not see or feel the tension as soon as he mentioned Bill’s name, it was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

The truck stopped moving as we stood. Lieb held out his hand for me to grab to help me jump down. I took his hand, hopping down and landing beside him, “Thank you.” I said giving him a smile, but I could tell Webster had put him in a sour mood. I waited for Babe to hop down as well. He stood up in the truck, “Yeah, Bill got hit. Blew his whole leg off.” Babe said to Webster. Great now he’s made both of them mad. Babe jumped down, walking in stride with me. We walked alongside the trucks that had parked.

“Spread out. Hold along this line till I figure out where we’re going.” Don said, striding forward from behind us. Making his way over to where Captain Speirs was talking to another officer. I hung back as the men kept walking. Waiting by the trucks for instructions, no good me holding the line with no weapon.

“Sarge.” Web called from behind me, I turned to look at the man as he walked. He brushed past me, his rifle still in its bag clocking me right in the head. I stumbled backwards, tripping over rubble on the floor. I landed on the ground with a hard thud. Ow! Fucking dick! I rubbed my head, grimacing in pain. He didn’t even realise he had done it, continuing to walk towards Malarkey. I got to my feet, brushing the dirt from my hands. I glared at the man, great now he’s pissed me off too. The sounds of shells being fired whistled through the air. I ducked my head down barely trying to cover myself. I watched with pure shock as Webster dove onto the ground face planting into the snow. I covered my mouth trying to muffle the laughter escaping my lips. Malarkey turned around to see his soldier lying in the snow. I giggled furiously behind the men.

“What’s the matter there, Webster? Nervous in the service?” Don asked the man. I almost fell to the floor again in a fit of hysterics, wiping the tears from my eyes. The scene of Webster flying through the air replaying in my head. Well I’m not mad at him anymore.

Don finished talking to Webster, sending him off to speak with Captain Speirs. “Em, you’re with me, let’s go.” Don called to me as he passed. I hurried after him, trailing behind a little so that he could speak to others if he needed.

I split from the group needing to find Lip, I saw him slink away into one of the houses they were setting up CP in. I hurried in watching Lip take a seat on one of the couches.

“Lip, how are you feeling?” I asked the man coming to kneel beside the couch he rested on.

“Great.” He smiled. I placed my hand on his forehead, he was running a fever. His skin was clammy and hot. His complexion was pallor in colour, and even from here I could hear the evident wheeze in his chest. He coughed into a handkerchief, producing a greenish yellow phlegm. George laid a blanket over the man as I assessed him. I pulled the stethoscope from my bag, Lip leaned forward knowing the drill. I untucked his top from the back, sliding my hand under his shirt to press the diaphragm of the stethoscope to his back.

He winced, “Sorry cold hands.” I apologised from my freezing fingers that touched his warm skin.

“Deep breath in.” He inhaled for me as I listened in one spot. “And out.” He exhaled. I could hear the rattle in his chest clearly, as he exhaled. I moved the diaphragm around listening to different parts of the lungs, from the top of the lung field to the bottom. I removed my hand from under his shirt, tucking it back in.

“How does it sound?” He asked, reading over a paper George had handed him.

“Well Lip it sounds better than last time I checked, but there is still fluid present in the lungs. So you need to rest. If you keep going you’re going to crash. They have this handled, you need to go lie down. There are beds in the back, go sleep. And remember at least three pillows, you need your head elevated.” I tried to explain to him, but even when he first got sick he refused to rest, saying there was too much work to do. I could only drag a horse to water.

“George, have you had any word about if they will send us some antibiotics?” I asked Luz as he moved around the room organising things.

“No, sorry Em.” I sighed, frustrated, he needed that medication.

“Hey, look who it is. Nice digs, huh, Lip?” I tucked the blanket into Lip’s side knowing he would refuse to move and go to bed. I looked over to Webster who stood in the passageway.

“Sergeant Lipton? Feeling alright?” Webster asked the man.

“He’s got pneumonia.” George informed the curious soldier. I still knelt beside him, concern apparent on my features. He gave me his sorry-I-will-go-rest-soon-face.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Webster shared his apologies.

“What are you sorry about? He’s alive. Got a couch, a goddamn blanket, snug as a bug.” George said cigarette hanging from his mouth. I stood from my position, placing my stethoscope back into my bag.

“Sergeant Malarkey said to check with the CO if I should be in 2nd platoon.” Webster said.

“Have a seat, Webster. We’ll get you situated.” Lipton ushered the man to sit. He took a place at the old piano.

“How long have you been sick?” Webster inquired.

“Long enough.” I patted the man on his shoulder. Poor guy had been ill for a while. He had a cold at first, which I said in the first place for him to rest and let it pass. But being the caring man that he is couldn’t leave his soldiers. So he worked still, causing the cold to become worse and then it deteriorated into pneumonia. Still even with that he refused to lie still and do nothing. Which I encouraged him to do so many times, I had given up.

“And when did nurses start helping on the frontlines?” He turned and asked me.

“Ah, I’m a medic.” I answered.

“Oh, that’s right! I recognise you now.” He smiled, “Yeah, wow, I’m surprised you’re still alive.” We all stilled. I sent him a disbelieving look, surely he didn’t just say that to me.

“Um… thanks?” I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Of course Em is still alive, she’s tough as nails. Huh Em?” George came and stood beside me wrapping an arm around me as he gave me a squeeze. I smiled at Luz, nodding my head.

“Sure am.” I turned to look at Webster, who assessed the interaction. He seemed to be puzzled at the closeness we shared. Too bad for him, it was a common sentiment I shared with all the Easy men.

Footsteps sounded from the doorway. A young man appeared in the room. “Is this the CP for Easy company?” He asked, looking lost.

“Yes, sir.” Lip said, moving to sit up on the couch. Everyone else in the room stood as well. I inspected the man closer, recognising the dash on his helmet showing he was a ranking officer.

“As you were.” He told the men who stood at his arrival. “Lieutenant Jones looking for Captain Speirs.”

“He’s on his way, sir. Why don’t you sit down.” Lip told the Lieutenant. I moved from my position standing next to Lip’s couch. I gave Luz a small wave heading for the door. Captain Speirs strolled in right as I was about to leave. He gave me a warm smile as we passed.

“Listen, for Christ’s sake, will you go back in the back and sack out? There’s some beds back there with fresh sheets.” I heard Ron tell Lip.

“I told him that sir, he wouldn’t listen.” I called over my shoulder.

“Listen to Emily, she's the medic.” I laughed as Ron scolded him. I left the CP heading to where 2nd platoon had been placed. I passed Winters and Nix on my way out as well.

“Emily! You’re looking well.” Nixon called to me, I smiled brightly at the man as I hadn’t seen him in a while. He moved forward arms wide, I stepped into his tight hug. I pulled away from Nix. Winters smiled at me, giving me a loving squeeze on the arm, as I grinned at him.

“It’s good to see you both.” I told them happily. The exchange was brief before they set off again in the direction I had just come from.

#band of brothers fanfic #donald malarkey #band of brothers #hbo war #fanfic #joe toye #bill guarnere #dick winters #david webster #joe liebgott #babe hefferon #Chuck Grant #Web doesn't know how to read a room #and also doesn't know how to speak to women #wow im surprised you're still alive #what a charmer

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raedear · 1 year

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I’ve had a great time catching up on the musicians AU so here’s an attempt at a first line prompt that you’re free to use or ignore or use for something else:

“Somehow, there was a splash of tea on the sleeve of his shirt.”

every single time I start one of these I have to look and see what tense I'm supposed to be in and then I still get it wrong. da capo was in past tense so that's what I'm using HERE WE GO.

Somehow, there was a splash of tea on the sleeve of his shirt. Joe chose to try and focus on that instead of the frustration building like a stormcloud in his chest. It was even working, until:

'You're rushing,' Nicky's voice was dry and tired, and Joe had to breathe very carefully so as not to snap his bow.

'I am not rushing,' Joe protested as calmly as he was able. 'You're dragging.'

They weren't even playing their programme yet. Nicky had suggested warming up (warming up! Like it wasn't the pinnacle of some musicians' repertoires) with Summer, and Joe had never been one to back down from a challenge.

He also had never been one to beat someone he was trying his hardest to be friends with to death with his bow, but it was looking very appealing.

'You're leading, therefore you're the one rushing,' Nicky said primly, playing a tiny phrase with his left hand, the tumbling arpeggio rattling alongside offence down Joe's spine.

'Perhaps you've just forgotten how swiftly you need to play to keep up,' Joe snapped before he could rein himself in. He froze immediately after, unsure if he should apologise but also absolutely sure that he didn't want to. Past poor behaviour on his part didn't give Nicky carte blanch to be a dick.

Nicky's hands were very still on the keys. The already tiny practice room seemed even smaller with the weight of irritation and held breath inside it.

'Maybe we should come back to this later,' Joe said eventually, when it became clear Nicky wasn't about to dignify Joe's slight against his memory witha response. 'We have a lot to get through before technical rehearsals start.'

'Hmm.'

—

Joe dragged his feet on the way home, grateful he'd decided splitting rehearsals was silly. He only had his violin with him for once, and it was much easier to navigate the streets without the weight of his cello on his already slumped shoulders.

It wasn't often that Joe took the long route via Paddington station home. There were faster ways closer to the Albert hall, but he needed the walk to clear his head. It was exhausting, walking on eggshells around Nicky. It felt like they took a step forward, and then tripped two back before Joe could blink.

Nicky had made a habit of bringing Joe coffee every other day, so Joe brought Nicky coffee on the days in between. They didn't even acknowledge it beyond murmurs of thanks, but then they stepped from that detente straight into tense and frustrating rehearsals that went nowhere, and all their morning good will was gone by lunchtime.

Today Nicky had almost slammed the key cover down on the piano before he caught himself. He hadn't even looked at Joe when he excused himself for a smoke. No matter what they did, they just couldn't seem to play together.

The long walk to the station let Joe pull himself together where his edges were blurring. The guilt over how he'd treated Nicky had sat in his bones for years. It festered with every day he tried and failed to find new common ground with him.

It was dark by the time he reached Paddington, and the evening rush was almost entirely over, just late workers and people heading out for the night milling around the station. It was still busy, in that way transport in London was always busy, but it was quiet enough that for once the sound of the crowd was a murmur and not a roar.

Or, maybe they were being quiet on purpose. Over the sound of the tannoy and people on the move, Joe could just about make out the familiar sound of a piano. It was just incongruous enough to stand out over the usual miasma of noise; a bright and cheerful sound that had heads turning and smiles blooming everywhere Joe could see. Helplessly curious, already smiling, he followed the noise to its source.

Near the statue of the eponymous bear, someone with their hood up played the last few bars of the Succession theme to polite applause.

The pianist shook out their hands, sitting back from the keys, and as Joe watched someone approached them, phone in hand. The pianist leaned down towards it, listening by the looks of it, before they nodded and lifted their hands again.

The pianist started again, leaning into the keys with their entire body, and Joe couldn't help grinning in delight at the familiar song.

What a wonderful thing, he thought, staring at the pianist as they swayed slightly with the music. Their posture at the piano was perfect, but there was real joy in their playing. The person who'd requested the piece gripped her friend's arm in delight, smiling so widely Joe could see her dimples from halfway across the concourse.

Joe kept half an ear out for announcements about his train as he watched the pianist play, resting with crossed arms against an out of the way wall.

For all he tried to stay involved in the community, tried to do more than tours for the same people over and over, it had been a long time since he'd been anywhere near as publicly accessible as the pianist. There was a freedom to their playing that Joe ached for. He remembered vividly busking as a teenager to make a little extra money as he studied. Even that hadn't been the kind of playful fun this person was engaging in, not when the quality of his food and clothes depended on it.

Joe was tapping his fingers along by the time the pianist finished, improvising an accompaniment to the pianist's interpretation of the ending of the song. He wondered if Nicky would ever consider adding something like this to their repertoire. Maybe that's what they were missing. Something purely joyful.

As the pianist finished, they turned to face the person who'd requested the song. Their playing had knocked back their hood very slightly, and the spot on the wall Joe had picked changed his view just enough that in turning to acknowledge the girl with the phone bared the pianist's profile to Joe.

He'd know that nose anywhere.

#musicians au #this will be on ao3 when I'm not half cut #please comment on there if you comment/reblog on here 💜#nickyjoe #kaysanova #immortal husbands #joenicky

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