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honeyedmiller · 1 month

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Sweet | Joel Miller

joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact

warnings: established relationship, no outbreak!joel, smut (f!oral receiving, unprotected piv, body praise with joel’s skillful mouth), fluff, no use of y/n.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: listen, i cannot get hozier’s too sweet out of my head, so naturally, this is the outcome of that. this one shot doesn’t correlate with the song one hundred percent, but the concept is there.

synopsis: it’s a lazy sunday and joel can’t help but want his coffee in bed with a side of you.

i take my whiskey neat; my coffee black and my bed at three; you’re too sweet for me

- too sweet, hozier

Joel wasn’t the type to sleep in. Even on his off days, he’d be up bright and early to brew you both a cup of coffee to kickstart the day. It was a one in a million chance you’d ever be up before him, and that day just so happened to be today.

You opened your eyes slowly, only to be met with the sight of a sleeping Joel next to you. His chest rose and fell in steady, even breaths. His lips were slightly parted and his usual furrowed brows of worry were relaxed. His dark eyelashes fell upon his cheeks without a single sign of stirring awake, and the morning sun highlighted his tan skin.

You were missing those beautiful brown eyes of his, and part of you wanted to wake him, but you let him rest. He’d had a long week at work and the last thing you wanted to do was deprive him of much needed sleep.

You carefully maneuvered out of bed, cautious to not wake Joel. An old Miller Contracting shirt fell over your body and barely landed over the tops of your thighs, and for a moment you contemplated putting on some sweats, but ultimately decided against it.

The carpet was plush beneath your bare feet as you tiptoed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. It was just you and Joel this weekend with Sarah being over at a friend’s house until later in the evening, and Tommy on a trip with his girlfriend Maria.

The house was quiet aside from the ticking of the clock that sat atop the mantle in the living room. It was odd, because you were used to the good kind of chaos in the Miller household.

You grabbed Joel’s favorite mug from the cupboard and the coffee grounds he preferred, starting up the coffee maker. It was done brewing after a few minutes, so you carefully took the mug in your hand and moved even slower than before to avoid spilling coffee on yourself or on the carpet.

You made it up to the bedroom once more, Joel still fast asleep. The sight made your heart melt and a smile curled onto your lips as you made your way up to him. Your eyes landed on the alarm clock that sat on his bedside table, reading 9:45 a.m.

He’d be distraught if you let him sleep in any later, so you set his coffee mug down and leaned into his body, lips gently pressing onto his cheek.

“Joel, baby, wake up.” Your voice was soft and laced with sleep. Your hand landed on the side of his face gently, caressing his cheekbone as you gave his forehead a kiss.

His eyes scrunched tight before opening them, gaze finding yours as you stood above him. A panicked look crossed his features as his eyes flit to the time on the clock, and he curses under his breath. He rubs his eyes and sits up, looking up at you again.

“Baby,” He starts, voice raspy and deep, “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

“You needed rest, Joel. You were exhausted.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up in silent gratification, and his eyes shift to his bedside table once more as his senses are filled with the delicious smell of black coffee.

“Y’made me a cup?”

You nod and offer him a small smile. He grins and reaches out for you, gripping your hips. He silently encourages you to join him in bed, so you straddle his own hips as your hands land gently on his bare chest.

It’s rare when he got to have coffee in bed, but he secretly loves it. He carefully takes the cup and sips from it slowly, setting it down again before his hands find purchase on your hips once more.

“Mornin’ gorgeous.” He grins as he leans up, connecting his lips to yours. Your hands slide into his curls, keeping him there just a bit longer.

“Morning, handsome.” You say against his lips, pecking them two more times before you separate from him.

“Nuh uh, where you goin’?” He grips your flesh tighter in the slightest, sliding you forward onto him. You feel the growing bulge beneath his gray sweats that adorn the bottom half of his body, and you can’t help but bite your lip as you stare down at him.

A pit of fire of pure want and desire burns low in your core. Arousal easily coats the fabric of your panties, and it takes everything in you not to grind yourself down on him for the friction you desperately seeked.

He knew it, too. Joel’s smug smirk was tell-all, knowing he had you right where he wanted you: aching and hungry for him.

Bastard.

“What’s’a matter, baby?” His teased, and you huffed out a breath of air for dramatics, but you decided to play along. You pressed your clothed core down on his bulge, grinding yourself over him with the tiniest of movements.

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he feels your wetness through the goddamn fabric of his sweats.

You pry one of his hands from your hip, guiding it between your bodies so his fingers brush over your soaked panties. You hiss at the contact and a low groan evades his chest.

“This,” You grind yourself onto his fingers, “This is what’s the matter with me, Joel. You gonna finish what you started?” Your voice was shaky as you forced yourself not to buck your hips against him.

“Fuck–baby, you’re fuckin’ soaked. All for me? This what I do to ya?” He moves the fabric to the side so his middle finger runs through your slick folds, coating it in your arousal.

“God, yes, Joel. This is for you, and only you. Always.” You couldn’t help but whine, wanting nothing more than his skillful mouth to take care of you before he stretched you deliciously full of his cock.

“I know pretty girl, I know.” He coos, slipping his finger away from you to bring it to his mouth, sucking on it slowly. His eyes closed in pure ecstasy at your tangy sweet taste.

He flips you both around so he’s on top of you now, easily sliding his shirt you were wearing over your body, tossing it onto the floor.

“You’re so good to me, baby. Too sweet,” He slips your panties off and tosses them onto the floor next to the shirt before leaning down to kiss your neck, making his way down to your breasts. He’s attentive to your pert flesh, tongue swirling over one nipple while his hand rests on you as he rolls the other between his forefinger and thumb. You tug on his hair, a breathy moan escaping you as you roll your hips up into his body involuntarily.

“So lovin’,” He whispers against your skin, mouth replacing his hand on your other nipple. His free hand skates down your body slowly causing goosebumps to arise. Your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers find your dripping folds once more, swirling his ring and middle finger around you. He releases your nipple with a small ‘pop’. “So genuine n’ kind,”

His mouth moves languidly down your sternum and to your torso, tongue savoring the taste of your soft flesh. He makes it down to the tuft curls above your pubic bone, kissing you there once before moving to the inside of the apex of your thighs. He softly moans as he licks your arousal up from your thighs, biting your flesh gently before looking up at you.

“So. Fuckin’. Sweet.” He emphasizes each word as his eyes move down to your glistening heat, and you can’t help but look at him with pleading eyes. The fire that stirred in your core was fully aflame now, silently screaming and begging him to put his tongue on you where you needed him most.

He spreads your folds apart with his fingers, sliding his fingers through your slick a few more times before a strangled plea escapes you.

“Please, Joel–” You’re never above begging him to pleasure you. You know he’ll take care of you, but the build up and anticipation was almost too much to bear.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

And he’s on you. His tongue licks a strong line up from your entrance to your clit, and you can’t help but cry out at how fucking good it feels.

Joel groans as his tongue swirls around your folds, sucking on them in the slightest before gripping your thighs and tossing your legs over his shoulders. He delves the muscle into your entrance, fucking it in and out of you at an increased pace.

You’re panting now, hands gripping the haphazardly tossed-around sheets as you grind your hips into his face.

“Thas’ it baby, use my face. Can’t help yourself, hm?” The teasing tone in his voice only makes you crave release further, arousal gushing out of your entrance once more. Joel can’t help but groan at the sight, licking up everything you give him.

He hums against you as your body writhes on the mattress above him, and he slides his hands over you and interlinks them together to hold you down. You’re gripping his hair now, shoving his face into your needy, aching cunt as you chase your high that’s winding up tightly in your very core.

He moves his tongue up, swirling the muscle around your clit before attaching his lips to suck the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You inhale a sharp breath and grip his hair tighter, a string of curses spilling from your mouth before he uses just the tip of his tongue to flick over your clit impossibly fast.

“Joel, fuck, please don’t stop–don’t stop don’t stop,” You plead, and he listens. He keeps his pace the same, and your hips still as your orgasm washes over you, flame igniting your whole being. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you ride out the intensity of your release, hands moving down to grip his shoulders.

“I got you baby. So fuckin’ pretty when you come. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, like nectar from a peach in the summertime.” He says, kissing your thighs and your cunt once more before moving up your body.

He settles himself between your legs once more, and you tug at the waistband of his sweats. He discards them onto the floor with the rest of the clothes, kissing you deeply as his body covers yours with his own.

You both moan into the kiss, the taste of coffee and your arousal on his tongue. He ruts his hips into yours, coating his stiff, aching cock in your slick, and you gasp at the slight overstimulation. You want more, though. Your body always wants more when it comes to Joel.

You can never seem to get enough of him, and he, you. The temptation was too sweet to resist, and you’d both be damned if that day ever came around.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Joel murmurs, nosing at your jaw before kissing your neck. His hands grip your arms gently and move them to rest above your head, and he slots his fingers into yours you give him a soft, satiated smile.

“I love you too, Joel.”

And he’s yours. You keep your eyes locked on each other as he slides home, pushing into your warm heat that wraps around him and welcomes him without fail every single time. Your lips part as you stare at him, nothing but an adoring look painting his features as you feel him pulsing inside of you.

The feeling of him in you, on you, around you is so ethereal. You want nothing more than your senses to be all-consumed by this man—this loving, stubborn, protective man. You got so fucking lucky, you think.

Before Joel, it was nothing but failed dating and men who only wanted one thing from you. With Joel, he wanted it all—your mind, heart, body, soul—everything. He absolutely loved everything about you, and he wasn’t shy to show it. He might’ve not been that great with words but he always reassured you with his actions, including making you feel so loved and cherished every time you two got intimate, even if it was a little rougher and a little more risqué.

He gave your hands a squeeze and you focused back onto him, the feeling of him pushing in and out of you having you feeling absolutely ravenous.

“You still with me?” He chuckles, noticing you drifted off in thought for a second.

“Always.” You reassure him, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose.

Joel picks up his pace, untangling his hands from yours before gripping onto your hips again. Your moans reverberate off of the bedroom walls, back arching and brows furrowing as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

“Makin’ the prettiest sounds for me baby. Lettin’ me ruin you like this. ‘M so fuckin’ lucky.” He pants as he thrusts into you faster now, grinding his hips up to hit that spot inside you.

Your vision blurs and your eyes gloss over in ecstasy, a devastatingly euphoric feeling of pure bliss coursing through your veins as Joel is nearly successful with wringing out your second orgasm.

“Who do you belong to?” His voice is gruff behind clenched teeth, concentrating on bringing you to an Earth-shattering orgasm.

“You! You, Joel, fuck–it’s always been you, it’ll forever– forever be you!” You cry, hands flying to his shoulders, legs wrapping around his body. You cling onto him with no intention of letting go as he fucks into you so deep that you start seeing the whole goddamn galaxy behind your eyes.

Your whimpers and pleas for him are loud, neither of you particularly caring if the neighbors can hear. It’s music to his ears; a song he wants to hear for the rest of his waking days.

“Thas’ right, baby.” His voice wavers and he’s close, but he needs you to come first.

As if on cue, your body crumbles around him once more. You cry out his name as the force of the orgasm consumes your body whole. He leans down to kiss your collarbone and rest his head on your shoulder, his own body starting to shake. It didn’t take long for him to follow suit, filling you with everything he had to give you. His grunts send a shiver down your spine as he tries to ground himself, getting lost in you every time he gets the chance to fill you in such a way.

His body slumps down onto yours and you’re both breathless, too fucked out to even form a coherent thought. You move your hands up to his hair, taking your fingers through his sweaty locks. He nuzzles his face into your neck, giving your flesh soft, loving pecks.

Neither of you make an effort to move even an inch, completely content with one another as your breathing evens out. You feel him soften inside of you, but he makes no attempt to move out of you.

You eventually tap his back gently to signal for him to move off of you, but he groans in refusal before tightening his grip on you.

You breathlessly laugh as you shove his large body. “Get off of me! I have to pee.” You chide, and you feel his shoulders shake as he silently laughs. He slowly slides out of you and you both groan, and he rolls over onto his back. You stand up on shaky legs with a small huff, looking down at him while he gives you his infamous shit-eating grin.

When you come back from the bathroom you spot his coffee mug on his bedside table, completely forgotten about amidst your activities. You frown as you pick up the lukewarm mug, an apologetic look crossing your features.

“Well that went to waste.”

“Waste? Baby,” Joel chuckles, “I don’t think gettin’ to devour you and seein’ you come undone while I’m inside you is a waste.”

“Joel!” Your face heats up at his words, looking up at the ceiling in embarrassment. After all this time he thought it was so fucking cute that you still turned shy about his comments toward you, even though you should’ve been used to them by now.

“What I’m not gonna waste is havin’ the house to ourselves for the next–” He looks at the clock’s red numbers blinking back at him, “–Seven hours. ‘Sides, the coffee can be warmed up again. ‘M not done with you yet.” The mischievous and commanding tone in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, and he gripped your forearm to drag you back into bed with him.

“What am I gonna do with you, Mr. Insatiable?” You laugh, cupping his face. He leans down, kissing each high point of your face before pulling back to flash you his million dollar smile.

“Let me prove to you all the ways you’re too sweet for me.”

tags: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @punkshort ; @joelsgreys ; @endlessthxxghts

divider by @saradika-graphics <3

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagines #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #no outbreak!joel miller #hozier what have u done to me #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader

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millerscoffee · 9 months

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reader lives in jackson and is friends with tommy, so she sees joel relatively frequently, and they just DONT get along. the reader is young and she’s got a sharp tongue and cheek that irritates the shit out of joel, who shoots back just as much condescending insults. they literally can’t be in a room without getting into it. however, the reader does it for his attention (she’s got daddy issues), and joel doesn’t catch onto this until she’s knocking on his door at midnight because she can’t sleep and she needs him and she doesn’t know how to admit it. he pulls her in the house and absolute filth ensues. he makes her blow him and then they fuck. joel is smug and condescending the whole time, and reader just becomes a ragdoll. Size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie/breeding, the works PLEASE

you got it, anon! ✨ this was requested on @atticrissfinch's page too, go check it out! i love how the same request can elicit two different stories. i did my best not to read it before i finished this (it was as difficult as it sounds cos HOO BOI 😅🥵♡)

only daddy that'll walk the line

6.2k | joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: big mean dom!joel™️ lmao, alcoholism (reader's dad, but also drunk!joel for a second - **this is not in the smutty scenes**), parental abuse (verbal, it is brief), smut, age difference (joel is 56, reader is 18-early 20s - your choice), size kink, dirty talk (joel's a talker more than his usual grunty self), name calling (bitch, brat, slut, etc.), light praise kink & like- two pet names, ✨ degrading language and acts ✨, edging, choking/gagging, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting kink!!!, spanking, oral (m receiving), no prepping the reader, brat tamer!joel, bratty reader, if i missed anything lmk

summary: based in jackson, you have the unfortunate predicament of being friends with tommy miller and hating his brother, joel – and you have no problem in letting either of them know that! until one night you are brought to joel's doorstep.

A/N: this is my first request! thank you! huzzah!! hopefully it's to your liking, nonnie. he's big mean dom!joel™️ but with a conscience yknow?? enjoy ♡ i did proofread this, but i wrote it over the course of a couple weeks. i did my best! lol

"Dude, what's his fucking problem!?" You roll into the dining hall in a huff. Shuffling to your seat for dinner, you slam your tray down and Maria gives you a combined look of worry and irritation at peace being compromised.

"Who, honey?" Tommy asks, handing you a glass of water with an entertained grin because he's positive he knows just who you're talking about.

He'd seen the two of you go at each other's throats earlier in the day when you were trying to get by him on your way out the door. His back was to you, and he all but ignored your request to get out of the way. Causing you to shove past him, which ensued an argument between the two of you. Which led you to both of you gunning each other with your words until you both left in a bad mood.

Joel had his back to you, his frame fully in the doorway as he spoke with a woman in town. It started off slow: a few clearings of your throat, a slight nudge of his back. No avail.

"Excuse me," you shouted, pushing at him again before he finally turned around quickly with his jaw ticked.

"Do you have any manners, Christ." He said dry and muttered under his breath, but the lady made room for you and you nodded politely in her direction.

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking old, you could've heard me!"

"And watch your fuckin' mouth."

Joel turned his back to you, not giving you a moment to retort. Conversation over.

"This fucker," when you look up, you see Joel coming towards the table. The sight of him gives you a set of shivers you can't explain. Not complete disgust, but certainly not excitement.

"You really oughta keep better company," Joel tells his brother, sitting down beside him, he frames his entire body towards Tommy so he's sitting in a way to make you feel ignored.

"I'm right here, you know." Your head is moving so you're in the line of his vision.

"Don't remind me. Listen, this is a family dinner. Go find your own."

A slap in the face would've hurt less. Before Tommy or Maria had the chance to come to your defences – both of their mouths open ready to take up for you – you stood up, shoving your tray over to Joel. So loud, other people turn their gaze to the four of you.

"Fuckin– eat up, then."

As you storm off to your house, you hear Tommy scold his older brother but you don't look back.

---

The next morning, your father wakes you up to the sound of his own yelling for you to come downstairs. You'd been helping out Maria and Tommy to get your own place, or at least a shared one with people your age and to hear your dad's voice; whiskey-soaked and cruel, makes your stomach churn.

After slipping on your clothes for the day, you make it to the kitchen where he's sitting at the table and reeking from alcohol even from where you're standing.

"Didn't you hear me call you?" His words were slurred and angry.

"Yes, I'm sorry." It's such a difference from how you talk to other people, talk to Joel, for example. Maybe because he's the last person you spoke to, but he's the first one who pops into your head during this interaction. You sound meek, scared to say something wrong. A stark difference from how you speak to Joel – abandoning all worries of punishment. Almost like you wanted that from him.

"Fuckinbetterbe – hiccup – breakfast. Now." Your dad all but snaps his fingers and rage creeps up the back of your throat, biting your tongue so hard you break the surface layer. A slight streak of blood coats your mouth, but you do as you're told.

This morning is kinder than others. Your dad did not say thank you for the pancakes, you didn't get hit or debased too much. You consider it a win. Once you leave your house as soon as you can, Joel's chest hits your face as soon as you turn the corner. The milliseconds seem long when you're met with the warmth and solidity of his chest, the scent of cedar and... whiskey? It seemed too early, even for him, to be drinking and you shake off the unreasonable rationale that he should be treated differently than your father for the same behaviour.

You ignore the similarities of him and your father all together, actually.

"Watch where you're goin'," Joel's brows are knit together, which is normal for him, but you've never been this close to see his lips from this angle above you. You almost say something out of the ordinary for the two of you, but you reel it in quickly.

"You're one to fuckin' talk. Morning coffee smells a lot like alcohol. Maybe I should tell Tommy about your habits."

"Does it ever hurt your head bein' a bitch all the time?"

"Not as bad as that hangover will be around noon. Move."

You push past the large build in front of you with a clenched jaw, unable to be around him a second longer. "Fuck you, Joel," you mutter for good measure on your way to Tommy and Maria's.

They'd given you safety on days when it seemed scarce, and showing up felt appropriate. You were a little closer with Tommy than Maria. He was able to listen to you without being too judgy, and you needed that. The lack of safety piece was a lot like how your day started off. You walk around to the back where Tommy's working on a new hobby and you sit in front of him, letting out a big sigh.

"Y'daddy givin' you trouble again?"

Typically when Tommy asks about your father he says it like this, but today it catches you off guard. Confusion twists your mind, but you nod distractedly. "Yea, he was drunk this morning. Your brother, too."

You slide that one in fast.

Tommy fists through his hair, letting out a heavy exhale. "Shit. We both got trouble this mornin', I guess."

"Seems like it."

You're unusually quiet, looking at the ground more than anything. It bugs you that Joel and your father have a similar quality to them. That they both are up reaching for the bottle, but for Joel it's not a common occurrence and that makes you worried – an emotion you don't have for him that often, if you're being honest. You don't think about his experiences that often. But this is the first time, really, you've even seen Joel drunk like that. You remember Tommy mentioning that he'd given up the stuff since Sarah's passing when everyone was around a fire one night sharing stories.

As if the dots connect in real time, you look over to Tommy who looks worried sick.

"He'll figure it out," you reassure, chewing the inside of your cheek before heading out. You call behind you, "I'll be around."

You've never really been good at the whole 'being there for someone' thing.

Later on, you find yourself in the mess hall again for the night's dinner and you catch Maria, Tommy, Joel, and Ellie all together and it feels weird to sit with them. They're all laughing, Joel looks sobered up. And it seems that Tommy didn't bring up the conversation the two of you shared. They look like a happy family and twists a knot in your throat and the proverbial knife at your side.

"Can I please spend the night at Tommy and Maria's? Please?" Ellie is looking over at Joel with the sweetest expression, you snicker to yourself at how menacing she actually was. It seemed to do the trick, though. Joel's eyes flicker over to you, and it feels like you're being caught for something. The look is inculpatory without you doing anything. As if to say you are witnessing something too personal, a side of him not meant for you. "Yeah, sure," his response to Ellie sounds distant.

This gives you no choice but to walk up to the scene, to sit down beside Maria. She gives you a welcoming grin and makes space for you. "What'd I miss?" You look over to Ellie who's excited to see you, but Joel? Not so much. His eyebrows narrow down his face, suddenly more quiet than usual, even for him. You set your sights back on Ellie who's telling you all of the cool things she's gonna do at her Uncle Tommy's and you flash a smile that lets her know you're listening. Or at least trying. It's hard when Joel isn't even initiating the usual conflict with each other. More arguing than speaking. And the fact it wasn't happening was off.

"That sounds like a blast...," you trail off, your chin in your hands.

"If you're not gonna listen to her, don't ask her questions." Joel barks, eyes now solemnly black in your direction. It makes you scared and delighted at once. Like he was back to normal. Your normal.

"I was listening to her?" You retort, and everyone's quiet now. Awkwardness filling the air as the two of you battle it out. "Maybe if you weren't so drunk all the time you'd know the differen–" "Hey, now." Tommy chimes in, giving you a stern look of disapproval and you feel bad. Reflective. Joel wasn't drunk all the time, and you knew exactly why he was this morning.

You exhale, "I'm sorry," you nod in the direction of everyone but Joel and stand up from your seat, "enjoy your family time."

On your way back to your house, you catch a glimpse of a group of people your age. People you'd grown up with, but they didn't acknowledge you and it digs the wound closer in. You truly felt alone. Like nothing fit, and maybe you didn't belong in Jackson but it wasn't like there were many choices to go to.

---

More times than not you sneak into your room. Not because you are past a type of curfew, you were an adult. It was more, you didn't want your dad to know you were around. Your door was locked when you climbed in through the window.

You got comfortable, spilling out of your clothes for the day and into your pajamas. Cotton shorts and a loose tee. Your breasts perky and nipples taut from the worn fabric. A lot of the day was spent dealing with heavy subjects that you just wanted to let your mind escape.

Staring at the ceiling in your bed, your eyes become blurry in need of sleep. Needing release. Anything.

Your mind wanders to why Joel was so quiet with you when you sat down. It wasn't like that was the first time the two of you had a shouting match in front of everyone, but this felt different. You deduce it to Joel having an off day and let your mind wander somewhere else.

Or, at least you try.

Because when your hands explore your body under the blankets, Joel comes back to life in your thoughts. You come back to the warmth of his chest when you ran into him this morning, the grunt that left him from impact. What that would sound like against your ear. Before you know it, you're shifting your thighs together, spreading the mess of your cunt. A craving ignites your bloodstream.

It's slick between your legs when you sit up, and you're full of determination unbeknownst of where it's coming from. The act itself is a little heady, but you have nothing to lose so why not?

Slipping on a pair of shoes and a jacket that covers your clothes, you turn your back to the window and scurry down until you're able to jump off onto the grass. One step close to where you want to be.

Joel's house is across the street which makes it easy to get to, but aggravating when you want a sense of peace. He's always around, shooting you a menacing stare when you're not down each other's throats but there's an ache you can't deny. A compulsion.

You knock on his door twice before he swings it open almost like he saw you approach, but he doesn't tug you inside like you thought he was. Doesn't make you get on your knees or fulfill any fantasy of being used. Of... making him proud.

"What?" His question is dry and a part of you is crushed. He isn't taking advantage of the way your legs look in your shorts right away.

"You're not the only one who had a bad fucking day," you start, but he doesn't give you a moment to push through the door because before you know it you're being pulled inside. The sound of a slamming door somewhere behind you. You're forced to look at him with his paw wrapped around your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up effortlessly. It locks you in place.

"You came here. Why? Y'want me to fuck your bad day away?"

You gape is panicked, eyes wide now in this compromising position. You can't think, you can't nod or say words. You just stare.

"She's real fuckin' quiet now," Joel shoves you against the closed door, not letting an inch of space be wasted and he takes your wrist with his free hand, palming you over his hardening cock in his jeans. "How about now. You payin' close attention?"

You whimper, nodding softly as your fingers massage and rub, tug at anything you can through the fabric.

"Did I tell you y'could do that?" His words make you pause, shivering at how truly empty your mind is in the moment. Even in your inexperience you don't know you've ever felt so instantly timid. Joel makes you fold at the first hint of misbehaviour. You can't think of a thing to say. Halfway don't know why you're here in the first place, and he's got you so wet from this it almost hurts. Stickiness coats your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and you're sure it will be obvious even through your cotton shorts.

You shake your head, and he's sick of you not speaking to him. Squeezes your face tighter, "Use your fucking words."

"No... no you didn't," you manage and you've never heard yourself sound so pathetic.

"I didn't, that's right. You answer to me." The snapping sound of his words causes your eyes to roll in annoyance. He doesn't own you, he never fucking could. The action makes his jaw tighten, his hand from your jaw in a grip that didn't hurt now is wrapped around your throat and although it's not tight, it certainly isn't loose. "What the fuck was that?"

You're back to being silent, unable to do anything but take.

"Not asking again."

"I rolled my ey–"

"You rolled your eyes. Roll your fuckin' eyes at me again, little girl. You'll regret it."

A cool threat, you think. Meaningless, even. What possible reproach would he have anyway?

It's then you take in the house. You'd been here once before to stay with Ellie. It's dark, a single lamp upstairs. All of this is background noise to the drone of your need prickling your youthful skin. It's apparent, your age difference, when you're this close. His rough fingers, wrinkles catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows.

"I–I'm sorry," you've been saying that a lot lately.

"Don't apologise to me. Don't say sorry when I know you're not." His thumb moves from your chin to your lips, thumbing over just how pliable and soft they are and it sends your nerves to the surface. Prying your lips apart, he presses inside and you willingly wrap your lips around it to lap the pad of his digit. "Look at that sweet thing," he says, more at you than to you, and your neck flushes being this willing to suck for him, "so easy for me to use. I put my thumb to y'er lips and you just took it right in, didn't ya?" The taste of his skin robs you of any other sense, his tone making you all but fold.

"Show me what this mouth is good for, 'cuz it sure ain't good at a sincere apology."

Before you know it, you're on your knees. Joel is kind enough that he ushers you down onto the hardwood floor and you can't believe you're face to face with his crotch in front of his door, no less.

"You couldn't wait to take me to your bedroom?"

Joel doesn't reply straight away. Instead you hear the clanking of metal, a zipper coming undone, and the slap of his cock hitting his abdomen on the way out of his pants. You take mental note that he hasn't been asleep by his attire, but it's all for nothing when your eyes make out the shapes in the dim light. You choke when you see just how big he is.

He tuts, leaning his head condescendingly as he takes a chunk of your hair in his palm to tilt your chin up to greet his cock. "Aw, you think you're goin' t'my room?" The words make you feel naïve, the one or two times you've done something like this didn't have nearly as much... compromise. And you certainly didn't hook up with someone twice your age. You don't have time to be self-conscious because the head of him, the leaky head of him, is tapping against your lips and your eyes roll back as you open your mouth for him. After jumping slightly in surprise, of course.

He sighs in relief with a deigned smile, pushing his hips further. "Fuck. You hear that? Nothing! Sounds so fuckin' good, shuttin' you up."

But it's not entirely nothing, is it? Not with your gagging, slurping up what you can but you don't know what you're doing all the way and fumbling through half of it. Doesn't seem to faze him much.

It's obscene as it feels, him using you like this – and you don't feel an ounce of guilt when it's exactly what you want. The switch flips on why you came to his door in the first place. His big thumb swipes over the corner of your full mouth, "You like that, dontcha, filthy thing?"

And you hated how right he was. You wanted to scream, kick him. Retaliate in a way so you could still be in this submission at the same time.

Your mouth was full by the earthy taste of him, obliterating whatever feelings you had about the day. A bad mood that he had contributions in, but it's melting from the constant thrust of his hips. And he's keeping your head locked in place, hand gripped in the strands so you can feel your spit mingling with the underside of his cock. Honestly, every part of his dick is covered in your spit. It spills down your chin, threatens up your nose when you gag, leaves your eyes to water when you look up at him in a dire need to breathe fully, but he's not done with you.

Not until the loudest, lewdest pop from your mouth you've ever heard does Joel break contact completely. Steps back until you're being observed in a patronising way. Your gone expression. All saliva and tears and his precum smeared over your mouth. You can barely bring yourself to look up, but his demands seem to do the trick.

Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention, you swallow hard. "Nuh uh. You're not gonna get all soft on me, girl. Wake the fuck up."

Which would be simple if he wasn't practically dragging you by your hair, making you crawl on your hands and knees until you're on your feet and you're shoved onto his couch.

All that and you're still dressed.

"Off," he's barking commands like you're a trainable being and if you were in any other state, you may reconsider this whole ordeal, but when he pushed you onto the couch your legs spread just enough for him to see the wetness smearing the cotton at the apex of your thighs and that amuses him. "not good at hidin' how much of a slut y'are."

"You think it's just you that does this to me?" You find your voice again, hoisting yourself up to sit on his couch as his cock – thick and proud – sways against the fabric caught between it. Your tongue presses to your cheek when you make eye contact, "You're kidding yourself."

The venom drips so fluidly from your tongue, Joel doesn't make a sound. Just peels off his clothes until he's standing there naked in his house, giving you living proof that you are kidding yourself.

The silence speaks for itself. He is pure smug under the sight of your drooling gaze.

"It's real cute that you think y'got control over the situation n'all," the weight shifting on this couch from the cushion shaping around his knee. Joel sits down, taking you by the scalp again to cloak you over his lap stomach-first, and you yelp in surprise when he does all of this and tugs your shorts down in one fell swoop.

With your hair in his fist, his other hand ghosts over your ass in effort to make sure you squirm for him before administering a devilishly loud spank to your ass. "But somebody better teach you better manners. Sure as shit itn’t your father."

You crack out a sob at that– from the contact and the truth. You couldn't retort, you were too busy getting slap after slap against your increasingly worn ass to think about anything else. "Lucky I ain't making y'count. You'd have this for eternity now."

Not that it mattered anyway. He's leaving mark after mark of his large handprint across your cheeks, probably ten more if you could even focus on anything else but finding the words to stop him.

"Please– y-you're right," tears stain your face as you bury your face in your arms. Flinching when Joel moves, you expect another searing punishment, but instead he pulls your ass apart and you gasp at the cool air striking your cunt that's hot and wet for him. "Joel!"

“Dirty fuckin’ girl, wet from gettin’ punished. I talked so bad about you, and you liked it? You’re as desperate as I thought. Only good for gettin’ my cock wet.” And it’s like a lever is pulled when your slutty little smile plasters over your face with him out of view. Not that you had much time to gloat, or to experience the pleasure of living in your own fantasy because Joel’s got you pulled again. His thick thighs spread apart when he maneuvers you so willingly to sit between his legs. Right where he wants you. Right where you can feel the throbbing pulse at your folds. He tells you to take off the rest of your clothes and you would be a fool to do otherwise.

“Bad girls don’t get the luxury of bein’ opened,” that Texan drawl slips over your ear when he holds the base of his cock, slicking himself through your folds, you gasp and wriggle against him – his grip tightening harder. Silently warning you if you make another move it’s over, you’re done. It’s over. All the while the searing stretch of him causes your cunt to flutter and clench around him. It’s too much, too overwhelming, and he won’t let you adjust long enough. “You’ll get over it,” but it’s not reassuring. He still sounds in control despite his laboured breathing and when he can, he moves his hands to grip your hips and guide you down on him. You scream, a knee jerk response wriggle away from him, but this position doesn’t quite allow for that.

“Be a good girl.”

That folds you, quite literally, as he moves his hips down to pound up into yours, using you like his own toy to get himself off with. And it’s just the incredible sounds of your squelching cunt and his balls tapping against your folds. The fucking isn’t frantic, but it certainly isn’t soft. He’s rough with you, a hand traveling up your back to grip your hair so your neck is back in place and he lifts you upright so your back is curved, neck craned so if you tried, you could make him out – upside down. “Poor thing couldn’t help it, had to get a daddy to take care of her. You want that, kitten? Wanna be used and as daddy’s little fucktoy – only good for makin’ me cum?” his hand sneaks around to the front of you with his free hand, he presses and digs into your pubic bone to make you feel exactly where he is. “Put a baby right here. Make everyone know what you fuckin’ did.”

You whine, eyes rolling back at the thought. It was so obscene, nothing like you’d ever even heard of before. Where did he fucking learn how to talk like this? Your brain is swimming while your sticky sweetness coats his lap, clawing at his thighs for any sort of stability, but it was dizzying how he had you. How his grunts filled the air in between slaps like he had your hips placed at the perfect angle for him to work you.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” His gritting teeth by the shell of your ear, he keeps you secure within your hair to snake his arm around the front of you tugging and rolling at the sensitive nubs of your nipples. When he feels you appear to drift off, those rough hands supply another smack, but to your tits this time, your fingernails clawing into his thighs involuntarily as you squeal in surprise. You tighten at that, fluttering around his cock and you feel it at the edge. So close you can almost taste it.

But he knows you’re close, too, and there’s no way in hell he’s giving that to you. Not when you’ve barged into his house like this, not when you’ve done nothing but be an insufferable brat to him since the moment he came to Jackson.

Joel hovers you over his lap, and your heels dig into the floorboard. His hips still, keeping the very tip of his cock inside of you – you feel panic flash over your body. “No,” it’s the first word you’ve uttered in god knows how long and it sounds desperate. Any hope of getting an orgasm swirls down the drain, and it’s set in stone when he pushes you on your back – the lumpy couch digging into your skin. “No, no, please. Why!”

His eyes could burn a hole through you. Like a hungry dog, his body hovers – shoulders stooped, head down when he pours his gaze into you. And he likes what he sees. Legs open and begging, willing to do anything to get him back into you. Your cunt glistening, even in the dull light and he can tell it’s pulsing. “Poor thing’s clampin’ around nothin’,” he teases, grunting when his knees meet the couch cushions – another tell of his age. But you, you’re too preoccupied in taming the ache between your legs to comment. It burns, coming back to a fixed state you realise how stretched out you were and it’s more than overwhelming. To know you haven’t been used to completion, all hope draining from your face.

“Joel,” your breath is shaky underneath him, pupils blown and wet when you make out his features, “Joel, please. Please, I want this.”

“Darlin’, I know you want it. Everybody in town knows you want it,” his words make you sob a whine as they approach closer to your neck, the delicate graze of his beard dances at your pulsepoint and you shudder. Hips raise and he’s quick to slam them back down into place. “If you want me, ‘Joel’ ain’t whatchu say to get me.”

And if you felt hopeless before, you really do now. Unable to do anything but debase yourself for your own pleasure. You’d heard it earlier, the way he referred to himself with a name that brought up mixed feelings at Tommy’s. You swallow down embarrassment, looking him in the eyes – which were faded obsidian, your fingernails dig into your own thighs as if to brace for what’s tempting to slip out of your throat.

You hated that he made you nervous.

And you hated the hold he had over you.

But he had it, there was no doubt about it. He had it. He had you.

Your jaw ticks forward, fully aware of your clit screaming for attention and exhale shakily. “Please, daddy. Please, I want this.”

“Eh,” Joel muses, shaking his head, “I don’t believe ya. Really gotta hear the desperation in your voice. Maybe if I,” his hand reaches for his cock, slapping the sloppy head of it against your folds and that– that sends you. Takes you to a different destination entirely because for the first time all night there’s attention to that bundle of nerves, and he knows it. He knows you need this in order to give everything over to him in full. “Daddy!” you screech, pelvis jutting up in full inclination and without a single word, Joel’s cock spears into you all the way to the hilt. All the way to your cervix.

His hands, emitting heat and wrapped largely around your hips, locks you where he wants you like some animal in heat. It forces you to bring your legs up into a position you aren’t sure you’ve ever been in – thighs against your stomach, by your sides. It’s so, “deep,” you whimper, head rocking as your mouth flies open and he’s delivering you thrust after thrust of pleasure so wrecking no noise comes from you.

“Is that what you needed? Fuckin' brat,” Joel is still able to tease, but even he isn’t immune to how tight you are around him. Your fluttering core begging for release as it moves in and out around him – as if it’s doing its own begging. “You wanna be filled up to the brim with my cum, babygirl? Needy fucking cunt like you only good for matin’ like this.” Your skin burns at his words, your body convulsing as you do your best to keep it together.

That’s when Joel’s hand wraps around your throat, a line of spit falling into your mouth and you willingly drink from him. “You hold off, you ain’t gettin’ it tonight,” you pout for a moment, not fully understanding what he means by that, but he clarifies when his hips get sharper, more precise. As if his cock is hooked inside of you, not letting a drip of precum spill out of you against your cervix. “Y’ain’t cummin’, but I am.”

His grip around your throat gets harder, and you swear you can see every vein in his face rise to the surface when he uses you. You’re limp, all thoughts washed away – his cock thick and long, you aren’t even sure how he fits it all inside of you but he does. The edge of your stomach bulges as he works you, his neck cranes back to expose his neck and it’s too much to take. For both of you. His hot cum ropes cords inside of you, sticking to your walls. Filling you up is an understatement with how much he has to give you. It’s as if you can discern the moment his seed grazes your cervix in its sticky texture. Your head is swimming at the sound of your animalistic grunts, he looks so… fucking hot like this. His name is replaced with ‘daddy’ more easily than you care to admit. You do try not to chase your orgasm… a part of you does, anyway.

But you’re defiant.

You can take yourself there without him telling you to, and in fact the opportunity to disobey him is just what you need to send yourself creaming all over his cock. You gasp, eyes wide before they roll back and you’re fucking yourself on his spent cock that somehow still has life to it. Even for his age, he can still keep it hard for you after his seed coats your insides. “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” becomes part of your breath, and you’re shocked he doesn’t pull out of you even though his hips are still. You don’t notice it until you come down considering you’re using him. Did he say you could do that? As if you’re woken up by an alarm, you jerk at the sensation of the orgasm you snuck. Without his permission. You look up, and his knuckles are bleached around your hips. He looks so menacing like this, scary. You shake your head, swallowing hard in your attempt to fix things.

But it’s too late for you. You’re a brat at the end of the day, and he has to train you. Make you realise the error of your ways.

His cock is still buried deep when his middle finger plays where the two of you connect. A whine escapes you, shivering now, not quite sure what he’s going to do. He’s lethally quiet, you aren’t sure how to react. He’s contemplating what to do to you, he’s not met someone who’s as menacing as he is. As unwilling to give away freedom. Not since… his nostrils flare as he inhales.

“I told you not to do that,” Joel stating the obvious makes you clear your throat, his cock twitching inside you in the aftershocks sends your teeth to bite down on your lip and you shake your head, “I c- I couldn’t help it!” You lie, and he knows it. Compels him to prod that middle finger just above his cock inside you and the stretch is too much. When you reach out for his forearm, his other hand darkens over your wrist, pinning it back in a way that hurts. You wince in tandem with it and his monstrous hook of the digit inside you. You’re so full, “It’s too-it’s too much!” you tap at anything you can, but he’s not listening.

Instead, the pad of his finger has no problem in touching that spongy bit inside of you – especially since your cunt is stretched from his cock and he can see it. His cum tempts to pool out of you, but he shoves it back in, working his finger inside you repeatedly but he’s just rubbing. He’s just rolling his finger against your g-spot until you feel so overstimulated it brings more pain than pleasure. “Came like you knew what you were doin’,” he finally remarks, thumb rolling over your clit and you can’t take it. “Please, pl– it’s too much! Daddy!” That rhythm is sly, though, in making you come undone. Again and again. As you’re on the peak of what would be an explosive orgasm, Joel pulls out of you entirely. His cock, his finger. His warmth is a distant memory when he stands up, palming over his cock. How did he get hard again?! He would deal with that on his own time.

Your moan is choked out, thighs pressing together for any sort of… something. A release, a grind. You’re left panting and begging, your tits perky and heaving for him.

“What did I say, little girl?” He climbs into his clothes, one button up at a time with his flannel. “You won’t be cumming for a week with that fuckin’ attitude.”

You’re so lost in chasing a feeling, soon to disappear as it could arrive that all you can do is whimper and nod. “I’m so–” his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. Spit covers your face, and you hum like a kitten at the feeling of his hot saliva down your cheek, “What did I fucking say about apologisin’ when you’re not sorry?”

You wipe your face, sucking the spit off your thumb with a satisfied smirk. “Fuckin’ loved it, daddy.”

He swallows then, his head shaking in disbelief over how much of a filthy bitch you are. “Yeah, yeah you fuckin’ did. Belong to me now, you understand? Gonna let everybody know what a slut you are for this cock.”

And you would be lying if you didn’t experience a swell of pride in those words. You’d be down each other’s throats again in no time, but the look of ownership that adorns his face over you is too much not to bask in.

“A week?” You study him, eyes wet and round, look up at him and you see his cheek twitch in response.

“Gonna be two if you keep it up.”

You let out a faint sigh, resting your head back on the armrest. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he coos, leaning down to press his lips at the shell of your ear. Fingers tucking his cum back in your hole. He relishes in how hot you feel under his fingers.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.”

taglist: @cool-iguana - dm to be added!

#bee's requests #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #tlou smut #joel miller requests #dom!joel #brat tamer!joel #brattamer!joel #bratty reader #bratty f!reader

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wardenparker · 5 months

Text

Next to Normal, part 2

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9k Warnings: Reader's age isn't pinpointed but you/she are old enough to remember the way the world worked before the Outbreak. Swearing, food. References to reader's past, trauma responses, Joel being the absolute softest and most gentle partner. Emotional vulnerability. Mutual nudity. Fingering. Hand job. Summary: In the months since you started your relationship with Joel, he has never pushed you for more. But Ellie thinks it's time to take the next step. Notes: As usual, I apologize for any typos that I might have missed. Ya girl is sleepy and there's a lot going on in life these days. This story was only going to be a one shot. And then it was juuuust going to be a two-parter. Well...this is part two of three. Stay tuned next week for the conclusion!

Read part 1 here!

Ellie fidgets at the table, frowning at the plate of breakfast that Joel put in front of her. Not because she doesn’t want it, but because she’s thinking hard about how to approach her question. It seems straightforward to her, but she’s learned in the last several months that he is touchy when you are the subject of conversation. He’s always in protection mode when it comes to you. She picks up a piece of unevenly toasted bread and frowns at it like it’s offended her until her eyes track back to Joel. “Are you gonna ask her to live with us?” She asks finally, knowing she doesn’t have to clarify who she means.

Joel stops with his fork halfway to his mouth, his own eggs nearly falling off as he stares at Ellie. “Why? What do you— has she—” he stops and drops the fork. “Why?” He wonders if you’ve dropped hint or if this is just the girl’s curiosity.

“That’s…what you’re supposed to do right? Like…old people style courtship?” She doesn’t really know what adult dating entails except that Joel seems to be spending every second of free time with you, and she likes you. You’re fun to have around and a lot easier to talk to than Joel or Tommy about some of the shit that she’s dealing with. “She hasn’t said anything. I just wondered.”

“Sometimes.” Joel admits, picking up his fork again and looking back down at his plate. “What do you think about that?” He tries to keep it casual, in untested waters dealing with this. He had never really dated while Sarah was young, too busy trying to keep everything together.

“She’s nice.” Ellie says, as though it was the easiest thing in the world. “And…we can trust her. That’s a hell of a lot better than some other people in this town.” In general she likes Jackson, but people are people and not everyone is trustworthy. Ellie knows that better than most. “Would you, like…marry her? Like Tommy and Maria?”

“I don’t know if she would ever want to get married.” Joel hasn’t discussed any of your past with Ellie, so she might not be aware of some of your hangups. He’s not ever even mentioned marriage just in case it might have been one of them. Not like he was a wedding vows kind of man himself. “I would. If she wanted to.”

“But you’re not gonna ask.” Ellie nods vaguely, not quite understanding why anybody bothers to get married anymore anyway. It seems like one of those things that doesn’t make sense in this world. A relic. “So…” The only part of it that still matters is safety, and the emotion behind all of it. “She could be here with us all the time, and I’d pretend like I don’t hear you doing stuff and that’s it? Like…” Her eyes tick up to Joel’s with rivers of curiosity in them. “Like a family?”

Joel snorts, amused at that comment because beyond kissing, doing stuff hadn’t happened. “Kind of like that. If she did, she would have say over what happens here.” He cautions. “Another adult to ‘ruin your life’.” He had rolled his eyes and laughed the first time she had come out with that statement. A true measure of a teenager, even in the shithole state the world was in, Joel could ruin her life.

“She’s better at it than you,” Ellie announces immediately, tongue stuck out as far as it will go. She doesn’t want to admit that you’re the one she goes to for advice most often now. Not him, not Maria, and definitely not Tommy. She goes to you, and you always answer her honestly.

“Ruining your life?” He lifts a brow and hums. “Maybe I need to ask her for tips then.” He’s joking, but it’s nice to see that she has found a mother-like figure in you.

“She’s better at advice.” The teen clarifies, not wanting Joel to think you’ve done anything wrong. “I mean…I’m not gonna ask you about girl stuff.”

Joel snorts and shoots her a grin. “Why not? I love everything about women.”

“But you aren’t one.” The exaggerated roll of her eyes calls him an idiot and she huffs. “Whatever. You should ask your girlfriend to live with us. That’s all I was saying.”

“Yeah?” He hums and shrugs. “I’ll see what she thinks. She can sew here, she does often enough.”

“‘Kay.” She mumbles simply, as if she didn’t just suggest an enormous change to both of their lives as casually as commenting on the color of the sky. Ellie finishes her breakfast in three bites and pushes back from the table abruptly. “School,” she adds, before grabbing her supplies from the counter nearby.

Joel watches as she bolts out the door. Since it’s not a FEDRA school, Ellie has actually been enjoying going each day. Picking up his coffee, he shakes his head. It’s Chicory but it’s better than nothing. Expecting you in a few minutes, he finishes his breakfast in peace with your own plate still warm on the stove.

The soft knock at the door comes just minutes later, and you crack the door open to slip inside without letting any heat out. The typical place for your sewing is in a large canvas bag unless it's a delicate project, so you can move it between your house or Joel's without effort. All those years of making costumes by hand for plays and parties has truly paid off. "Joel?" The smell of breakfast is welcome and comforting, and you peak around the corner to find him sitting at the table. "I just passed Ellie on her way to school. Seemed like she was in a good mood."

He chuckles and stands up, ready to pour you a cup of the coffee that is still simmering in the percolator. “She should be.” He snorts. “Christmas is coming early, apparently.”

"Or very late, depending on how you view it." Now that spring is here and the winter is solidly behind you, Jackson is flourishing again. It seems to be affecting everyone, including Ellie. A soft murmur of thanks comes with accepting the cup of coffee he has made – Joel's is far better tasting than your attempts ever were – but you set it down on the table to step closer to him with a smile. "Good morning kiss?"

“Of course.” When you ask him for a kiss, or to hold you, he’s never turned you down. Nearly in disbelief that you are so affectionate despite the past years. He steps towards you slowly and bites his lip. “Can I hold onto your hips, beautiful girl?” Sometimes you want him to and other times you would rather he not, so he still asks where you want his hands.

"Yes, please." You're feeling brave today, maybe reinvigorated by the spring just like Ellie is, and you nod as you step closer to him so he can hold you close. Maybe it's the spring, or maybe it's months of Joel always calling you his beautiful girl finally starting to sink in. You never thought anyone could think of you that way ever again, but it seems so easy with him.

He hums softly, licking his lips and shuffling closer. You are the one who moves quickly when you feel like it, but he still treats you delicately. Not because he is afraid you will shatter, but because you deserve it.

His short hair is always the perfect place for your fingers, and your arms come up around his shoulders so you can play with the hairs on the back of his neck when he leans in. These morning moments are your favourite, if you're honest. The bright sunlight and birdsong make it seem like a romantic little cottage scene, and it makes you wish that you had had the courage in the colder months to suggest that he sleep over. Or that you sleep over his place. Even just to sleep side by side would be wonderful, but you try to be cognizant of not changing things too much on Ellie all at once.

His lips are much softer since he’s been kissing you. Not as dry. Tommy rags on him, making him roll his eyes, but he would never admit that he does put a little oil on them at night to keep them from chapping and cracking when it’s his turn to stand watch at the gates.

The domesticity of the whole thing is appealing in ways that harken back to the feeling of near normalcy that Joel gives you, and you’re smiling when you finally force yourself to lean back from kissing him. “Busy day? Or do I have you to myself until Ellie gets home?”

“Nahh.” He shakes his head. “Mud’s too thick to try to set more posts, so we are waiting for it to dry in the southern area of the community garden.” He tells you. “Since I had to pull watch last night, I’m off for the next day or so.”

“It wasn’t too bad, I hope?” Overnights are tough just for the sake of a sleep schedule, but you know Joel’s shift ended at dawn and it’s a fair few hours past that now. “Did you get a nap in?”

“Not yet.” He hadn’t wanted to sleep while you were over. Not when he could spend time with you. “I will when I get tired.” He promises.

“I would have waited until after lunch to come over.” You pout at him, rather viciously, but aren’t really upset. You just don’t want Joel tiring himself out for you.

“And I wouldn’t have slept then, either.” He grumbles at you and motions towards the stove. “Eaten yet? I made you a plate.”

“Thank you.” Though you couldn’t put a finger on when it became tradition to eat breakfast together, it has certainly become a mainstay. “I brought over a few things that I’m mending for Maria, so I have plenty of work to keep me busy.” Or not is the unspoken follow up. There are definitely days that you spend entirely wrapped up in Joel.

“That’s good.” Joel nods as he motions you towards the table and brings the still warm plate over with a small hiss when it burns one of his fingers. “It’s hot.”

“Careful!” Though how he can feel anything through those callouses on his hand, you just don’t know. “Don’t need you burning your fingers off over a plate of eggs.”

He rolls his eyes and sits down beside you with a groan. “Eat.” He tells you, pointing to the food. “Pretty sure you skipped dinner last night.”

“Not intentionally.” There had been a call for anyone available to come help out with chasing some escaped animals up on the pasture north of town last night and you had gone out to help without hesitation. “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course I’m going to look after you.” He huffs off your thanks and sits back down with you, his own refreshed coffee in hand. “Ellie wanted me to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” That has you stopping with your fork halfway to your mouth. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…everything’s good.” He quickly reassures you, frowning because he hadn’t meant to worry you. He doesn’t like the scared look in your eyes, like you’re about to be punished for some imaginary wrong. “All good, I think.”

“Okay.” Dropping the tension from your shoulders is automatic — you didn’t even realize you had seized up until you were relaxing again. “What’s going on?”

“Not sayin’ we’re doin’ this, or that we gotta—” Joel reassures you to start with, knowing that you might not think that it’s a question. “But Ellie was asking me about the future, me and you.”

“We haven’t really talked about it.” For the simple reason that in this world, the future can never be determined. There’s usually no point in betting on a horse if you don’t know it will even finish the race, so a lot of people — you and Joel included — have chosen to remain undefined. Other people, people like Tommy and Maria, have held onto the old relationship conventions as a comfort in an ever changing world.

“No, we haven’t.” Joel admits. “But maybe we should. She – and me too – we were wonderin’ if maybe it’s not a bit silly that we’re trackin’ back and forth between your place and ours.”

“It’s not too much trouble, is it?” The ice cold fear in your heart is instant, and even though he had said that nothing was wrong, you can’t help the feeling of doomed certainty that the inevitable end has been reached in this otherwise happy arrangement. It was bound to come, sooner or later. Or, at least, you’ve feared that it would.

“No,” he can see that you’re still worried and he offers you his hand. Silently asking permission to hold yours and he squeezes yours gently when you slip onto into his. “We were thinkin’ that maybe you could just— live with us?” He ventures softly. “I wouldn’t— you don’t have to worry about me expectin’ anything more—” he promises quickly. “Maybe we could just, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed? If you don’t want that, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Joel…” It isn’t a great commendation of strength on your part that you start to tear up immediately, but it’s an honest reaction if there ever was one. You squeeze his hand tightly in yours for the half-second it takes you to move out of your chair and to his side. “Can I hug you? Please?”

“Of course you can.” The fact that you ask him is probably due to him asking you. Or needing to make sure you won’t get in trouble on some subconscious level, but he easily stands and holds his arms open.

The crush of how hard you push into his arms to hug him exactly as tightly as you can gets a small oof out of him, but his arms come around you just as securely. “I’ve been trying to think of how to bring it up for weeks,” you admit quietly, feeling silly about that now that he’s broken the topic himself. “About… sleeping together, I mean…”

“Oh.” He’s not sure if you mean sleeping together or sleeping together, but he doesn’t ask. “You should have said something, beautiful girl.” He murmurs quietly into your neck, enjoying the way that you curl into him.

“I wasn’t sure how.” Joel is the only person you’ve been able to be completely candid with about your fears and anxieties, and if anything it has only made him more protective. But really? You don’t mind that. “But I’m feeling braver.”

“Do you like the idea?” He asks softly. “I know you have your own space and are used to it, but we can share ours. Ellie loves the idea, so no teenage pushback.”

“I had considered asking you to move in to mine,” you admit, overwhelmed tears turning to happy in an instant. “But I didn’t want to displace Ellie.”

“If you want that, we can see what she thinks.” Joel immediately offers. “But I think our place is a little bigger. And yours is closer to everything.”

“Bigger is better.” You can agree to that right away. The room you could give Ellie in your own house is too small to be comfortable. “I don’t mind being a little further away from town if I get to be with you.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiles slightly at the comment and nods. “Okay. Well, we’ll get you moved over here as soon as you want.” He knows you will bring your supplies so he nods towards the little nook off the living room. “Thinkin’ that could be your little shop, unless you need more room?”

“I think it should work.” The little reading nook off of the living room has space for a chair and a desk, and even a small closet built into the wall of the house that has shelves for your supplies. “If you don’t mind sacrificing the space, I think it might actually be perfect.”

“Was thinkin’ I could make you some organizers for your cloth and threads and such.” He tells you, leaning into the idea. “The bookshelves would be good for that.”

“You’ll spoil me if you do that.” It sounds wonderful, and you prop your chin on his chest to look up at him. “But I’ll spoil you with cooking if you let me.”

“I’ll get working on them today.” He promises with a grin. His cooking is okay, but yours is amazing.

“And I’ll make us a celebratory supper.” It’s the least you can do, really, but the smile on your face is bright and wide.

“Yeah?” He grins at the idea and nods. “Do you wanna start moving stuff over? I can get Tommy to help.”

“That would be a heck of a surprise for Ellie.” And you laugh a little at the idea, enjoying the ease of it. “Leave for school just having posed the question, and come home from school to find me moved in.”

“Up to you.” Joel chuckles. “She likes the idea of a family.” He wants you to know that, that the girl wants you here with them.

"I know she isn't technically either of ours." You shrug slightly, not wanting to specifically bring up the children that both you and Joel have lost. "But sometimes it feels like it."

“We worry enough about her. Annoy her enough.” He frowns slightly. “Sometimes family isn’t always blood, but the people you wish were blood.”

"Family can be the people that you adopt along the way. Or the people who adopt you. It works both ways." The two of you sit back down again, hands twined together at the table as you slowly work your way through the modest breakfast that Joel made you. "After this I'll go back to my house and pack some things up while you go see if Tommy is able to help?"

“Sounds good.” He clears his throat and bites his lip. “I don’t expect you to do any more than we’ve established you’re good with.” He reminds you quietly. “I’m gonna knock before coming into the bedroom. In case you’re, uh, changing or something.”

"I can change in the bathroom," you assure him, putting down your fork to concentrate on the far more important conversation at hand. "Or...maybe it's time we crossed that bridge. Maybe not all the way to the other side, but...we could put off a little of the moving to have...private time? Before Ellie comes home from school?" Reminding yourself that you have been feeling braver lately is the key. Joel has proven endlessly that you are safe with him, and never once given you reason to doubt it.

“Is that what you want?” Joel asks seriously. He doesn’t want you to think you have to push yourself into something you aren’t ready for because of where you will sleep at night.

"I want it, and I want to be ready for that step." Wanting is the key. Or at least you hope it is. "And I hope I know you well enough to think that you won't be upset if we reach a point that I'm not comfortable with."

“You just say the word and I’ll stop, beautiful girl.” Joel can easily promise you that. “If that’s what you’re wanting, then I guess you better finish your breakfast.”

As nerve wracking as taking that next step is, you do want to. Letting fear rule your life helps no one, and reclaiming your own strength through large and small steps is something that Joel has really helped you with. Nothing says that today has to be the day that you throw off every worry, but as you finish your breakfast you do feel absolutely certain that the decision to put one proverbial foot in front of the other and move toward intimacy with the man you’ve genuinely fallen in love with.

He lets you think about it quietly, taking his own plate and coffee cup over to the sink to start on the dishes. Knowing that despite what you might say, you could change your mind before you even finish your meal. That's okay with him. He's never pushed you, even when he's straining under his jeans and has to take himself in hand when he gets home after leaving you. He would still never push, not with something like this.

He doesn’t let you do your own dishes when you’re done eating, but he never does. Joel has deeply ingrained caretaking tendencies even if he doesn’t like to admit it. “We should…go upstairs,” you murmur, leaning against the kitchen counter beside him. “It’s more comfortable than the couch.”

Joel watches you for a moment and then nodes carefully. “We can. Do you— uh, want me to give you a minute?” He asks, unsure of what you want and how far you want this to go. “Let you…get ready?”

“I’d rather have you next to me.” His presence is, after all, what makes you feel safest. For this next step you’ll need that more than ever.

“Okay.” Reaching out, he offers you his hand with a reassuring nod. “You are in charge here.” He reminds you.

“I don’t really have any expectations for this except that we’ll lay in bed together and have some privacy.” But you can now fully admit that you hope to have the courage for more. “Let’s just…start there and see what happens?”

“That sounds good to me.” He guides you towards the stairs and lets go of your hand so he can let you go up in front of him. “We’ll take it nice and slow.”

The last time you were this nervous about being in a bad with a boyfriend was probably losing your virginity in high school, but there is a hell of a lot more emotional weight involved this morning than there was then. Joel means more to you than any of the others ever did, and that just makes you want this to go well even more. At the top of the stairs he’s beside you again and you slip your hand into his.

The walk to the bedroom doesn’t take long, the door open and his bed still rumpled. He’s never been a make the bed kind of guy and he bites his lip a little sheepishly. “Didn’t think you’d be up here.” He admits with a rueful grin. “Would have at least tossed the comforter over everything.”

“I like it better knowing the real you.” Your hand in his slips around his waist to keep him close.

Joel hums and walks towards it and then pauses a few feet from it. “Do you want to lay down with me, beautiful girl?”

“I feel like I should at least take my sweater off first.” The t-shirt you have on underneath it is typically worn but comfortable, and you find that today stripping off your warm sweater feels like taking off a lot more clothes than it really is.

Joel takes off his boots, but he leaves everything else on. It’s just a t-shirt and a flannel with his jeans. “Make sure you’re comfortable. What side of the bed do you like?” He’s a middle of the bed sleeper, so wherever you want is fine with him. He’ll adjust.

“The left, usually.” Being boxed in doesn’t feel particularly good to you, for obvious reasons. That doesn’t matter right now though, and you take off your own boots to leave to the side with Joel’s, socks stuffed neatly inside. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He nods and motions to the bed. “Test it out. See if you like yours better.” If you do, he will drag that damn thing down here.

You won’t, you know that, but getting into Joel’s bed with him is a surprisingly emotional moment. Without any extra preamble — only because you’re restraining yourself from babbling out of nerves — you slide under the rumpled covers and inhale a breath of the scent that is purely his. It’s infinitely relaxing, and you close your eyes for a second to revel in how right it feels. Fear has made you think it might be awkward, but no. You’re supposed to be next to Joel. This is where you belong.

Joel is slightly tense beside you. Not wanting to jostle you too much, but he clears his throat. “I’m going to put my arm behind your head. Is that okay?”

“Let’s…” looking between you, you know that Joel asks about every single action to be courteous. To be cautious, even. And while you don’t mind being delicate to him, this might be a chance to start moving past some of that hesitance. For you, too. “Let’s just say we’re going to get comfortable?” You suggest. “Asking about every single movement…it’s going to make this harder than it needs to be. So…it’s okay with me that you touch wherever you need to while we figure this out. This…how to be comfortable together.”

He huffs out a small laugh at himself and nods. “If you don’t like something, you tell me, you got me?” He tells you, raising his brows seriously. “This bed, it’s gonna be your refuge, not your prison.”

“Okay.” Nodding, you slide closer to him under the blanket and move your arm so he can slide his under your pillow if he wants to. “I’m sorry if this is awkward…”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry about.” Joel chides softly, used to hearing that when you want to pull back. “We’re just getting comfortable, that’s all.” His hand settles on your arm and he strokes his fingers over your skin lightly. “We got all the time in the world.”

Shifting even closer, you tuck yourself into his side and sigh at the bulk of him. It really is something primal in the way it relaxes you, having that broad frame of his nearby but never threatening. Sliding your arm around his waist is easy like this, and you press yourself into him comfortably. “Kinda wish I’d gotten brave enough for this ages ago,” you admit quietly.

“It’s okay, beautiful girl.” He promises, slowly sliding his hand up and down your back as you start to slowly cover half his body with your own. He pauses for just a moment before his hand ventures very sedately past the small of your back and over the swell of your butt. Giving you time to tell him no if you wanted.

Instead of hesitating it actually makes you grin, the slow and careful way that he reaches forward. Feeling admittedly cheeky, you shift your hips to wiggle your ass under his tentative fingers and end up smiling again. "It's okay, handsome," you assure him, giving him the permission that he's silently seeking. "Go ahead."

Joel groans and cups your ass firmly. “You have a great ass.” He growls softly. “Thought so from the beginning.”

"The beginning, huh?" It's something of a relief to find out that Joel was just as interested in you as you were in him early on. The first time he'd admitted it, you had literally sighed. There was a breath then, like there is now, that you didn't realize you had been holding. "I'm glad you like it."

He smirks slightly and moves to caress your ass like he had your back. “When you’re feelin’ up to it, my lips are lonely.” He teases, puckering them slightly.

It's small, and it's teasing, but it lifts so much of the tension in the room that you actually laugh and move in a little more with eagerness. If there's one undeniable truth about Joel Miller it's that he's a fantastic kisser, and you're not one to give that up when it's being offered. Especially not right now. Not when your time alone with him is both assured and indulgent.

Your lips aren’t hesitant this time. They are sure and still curved into a smile when you press them to his. Making his own laugh into your mouth that much sweeter. He wanted this to light, there’s so much heaviness in your lives, this should be as light as it can. Especially with your past. Taking the moment for the simplicity that it is.

There's something different about the taste of him this morning, like kissing Joel is somehow sweeter for the pure and simple reason that you're in bed together and nothing else. Your hand creeps up his arm and around his shoulder so your fingers can find their way into his hair, and the bubbly, joyous feeling in your chest bubbles over when you summon the courage to be the one to run your tongue along his lower lip in an open mouthed kiss. It's probably bolder than you've ever done before but the rightness of this feeling just can't be overstated.

Humming in surprise, Joel settles back slightly and lets you take charge of your kiss. Waiting to see if you would slide your tongue into his mouth or if you will leave it at just opened mouth to breath into each other. His hand squeezes your ass gently, encouraging you to do whatever you want and immediately goes back to caressing like it had before.

His hand feels huge like this, but not in an overwhelming way. In a way that makes you feel precious and...unexpectedly...a little worshipped. Up here in this bedroom nothing can hurt you, and that is another step forward in this sort of emboldening feeling that is brewing inside you. It's that burst of boldness that has you pushing into his side just a little bit more, tongue sliding into his mouth to relearn that part of him that you have explored only a handful of times before.

Joel grunts, his cock twitching and starting to harden in his pants, but he ignores it. Focusing on you as he continues to kiss you and caress you. Enjoying how you are unfurling for him.

The heat that rolls off of him in waves is intoxicating, making your head swim like it does whenever the two of you let the urge take over. It isn’t often, but it’s always good, and this morning feels even better.

The kisses are slow, languid. Pretending that time doesn't exist and every breath shared between you is suspended. He feels the way you are slowly starting to grinding on him, his thigh between yours.

Shallow, short, panting breaths are all the two of you can manage. Some gulps of air and soft, muffled moans. The floods your mind and your instincts and for the first time in over a year pleasure is what overtakes every thought, not fear.

He watches you, your eyes closed and your finger tight in his hair. Not because you are afraid, but because you are wanting more. He groans into your mouth and his hands settle on your hips, encouraging you to move if you want to with a small nudge.

It's like your mind has gone blank of everything except him, and the bliss of it is that you finally can let it go blank. The only thing you even need to know about in the world is Joel, and he is right here beside you. Half underneath you, technically. He not only wants you here with him but is actively devouring you at the same rate you are devouring him, and the freedom is nearly electric. Rocking hips have a mind of their own, and it really does take longer than you're proud of to realize that you're evening doing it. Catching yourself, you barely manage to pull back and force yourself to look Joel in the eyes through hazy vision. "Is...I didn't ask...if it's okay?"

“It’s always okay, beautiful girl.” Joel’s voice is rough, lust filled. “Whatever you want, you just do it to me.”

“I—I don’t really know what I want,” you admit, trying to catch your breathe and keep your entire body from setting on fire in his arms, but not succeeding very well. “Except…more.”

“You could let me— unbutton you jeans?” He asks as he nudges his nose against your pulse. “Use my fingers to make you feel good?”

It would be a lie to claim you hadn’t imagined what it would feel like. That you hadn’t actually dreamt about how pleasurable time with Joel would play out. While this isn’t quite like any of the scenarios you had dreamt up, it is real and it is happening right now, and you nod fiercely before pushing in again to kiss him with every ounce of courage built up inside you.

He knows this is a big step for you and he doesn’t rush it. Kissing you back while he slowly pulls his hand around your back to the front of your jeans. Pausing for a second to wait for any protest before he flicks the button open and leisurely pulls down your zipper.

He gets no protests at all, but a deep sigh bordering a moan that comes out of you with that deceptively small act of opening your pants. Your free hand slides just under the hem of his shirt, hot skin burning your fingers at first contact but only in the very best way.

“Tell me if you don’t like something,” he reminds you softly when his fingers first dip below the threadbare elastic band of your panties. “Only want you to feel good.”

Any flash of discomfort, even a small one, is too much and you lean back to find Joel’s dark eyes watching you. “Let me just take them off?” You ask quietly, not wanting to verbalize the fact that the fight pull of fabric against your skin hits a memory you don’t want to relive. As exposing as it is, naked is better.

“Whatever you want.” His hand eases out of your panties and he lays back, showing you that he’s not going to keep on.

“I want you.” The clarification is important, even as you slip off your jeans and underwear, letting them fall off the side of the bed in irrelevance. Shirt and bra are next, and even the act of shedding your own clothing — making your own choice to do this — frees another layer of fear from your shoulders. “I don’t want fear to be in the way of I can help it.”

“Do you want me to strip down?” Joel asks, wondering if you won’t like him being clothed and you naked. “How do you want me, beautiful girl?”

“How ever you’re comfortable.” Just because you stripped down does not mean that he has to. The state of your relation as always been respect and not reciprocity.

He decides that he wants to strip down too. He knows he’s not going to do anything that will make him cum, but if you’re going to live here, you should be comfortable with him.

It definitely more than you ever expected to happen today, but as Joel sheds his clothes beside you, there’s also a sense of peace in it. Reclaiming intimacy — not even sex, just intimacy and closeness — is like relieving an enormous burden that you aren’t ever sure could be lifted.

When he reaches the tired, worn out boxer briefs he is wearing, the outline of his hard cock clearly showing, he hesitates. “Would you like me to leave these on?”

A fair question, and though you hesitate for a moment, you decide firmly on, “No.” This decision to move forward together is too important to you, and it’s not as if you aren’t attracted to him. You have eyes, after all. “If you’re okay with it, I…I want to see you. Maybe…touch you?”

He groans quietly, nodding as he hooks his fingers into the band. “You can touch me wherever you want.” He promises.

He has never protested once about waiting for you to be ready. Never pressed and never pushed. Now you only hope that you won’t disappoint him when you’re actually ready to take the next step. “You can touch me, too.”

“My daddy was never good for much.” Joel starts as he slides his hands down, bringing the boxers with him. Grunting as he bends over to steps out of them. “But he taught me something that’s stuck with me.” Standing up, he looks you in your eyes. “It was about holdin’ a gun, but I guess it’s the same with holdin’ a woman.” He tells you. “Hold her like you love her. Slow and gentle, steady. That’s what I aim to do with you.”

“I—I do love you.” He wasn’t trying to get you to say it, or even saying it himself, but sitting up in his bed with a blanket around you instead of clothes…if you can’t say it now, then when can you? “You don’t have to…to say it back or anything. I just—it felt like the right time to say.”

You are sitting down, but he steps closer to you and kneels down, not wanting to tower over you to intimidate. “Baby, you should know that I— I love you.” He murmurs quietly, reaching for your hand. “Everything about you.”

"Get back in bed, Joel." Even with one of his big hands holding on to both of yours, you tug at him slightly to urge him to join you. "I...I really want to be close to you right now."

“Okay.” He groans again as he gets to his feet. “Fuckin’ knees.” He complains quietly. “Too fuckin’ old.”

“No more grand romantic gestures that involve kneeling,” you tease, pulling back the blanket so he can climb in beside you.

“Don’t worry about that.” He chuckles as he slides into the bed. “Probably the cold, but it’s been actin’ up.”

“Still.” Your arms are open to him this time, reminding yourself that there’s no need to hide. “I like you in one piece.”

This time, he is the one that is curling up to you, making sure he doesn’t seem to hover over you just in case. His cock is against your hip and he leans in to kiss you again. “You have me.”

To have it put for you so easily — that he’s yours are much as you are his — makes so much difference. It’s freeing instead of entrapping. Love rather than possession. It makes you melt into his kiss, hands grasping for him rather than being tentative about their touch. Not exactly greedy, but definitely no longer afraid.

It’s almost too easy, the way you eagerly fall into his kiss again. Your determination shining through and his hand lands on your hip again, warm and seeking. “Spread your legs, beautiful girl.” He murmurs against your lips.

It isn’t an order, but an urging that you happily agree to. Laying back on his pillows and letting him come that much closer to you, urging him to lean over your body. It isn’t looming, like he’s afraid it could be. Instead it feels like protection.

He starts at your shoulder, hands deciding they want to touch every inch of skin you will allow him. Lips kissing your chin, your jaw, just behind your ear. “So beautiful for me.” He rasps out. “So soft.”

Joel is full of endless praises, and you’ve caught yourself sometimes wondering if that’s something he does just for you or if it’s an old habit of his that goes back to the time before. It doesn’t truly make a difference, but you’ve wondered. The feeling of his hands everywhere on you could get overwhelming — or you fear that it could — but it’s just Joel. It’s the man who only makes you feel safe and protected and appreciated, and you sink down into the mattress with a sigh when his hand moves down from your shoulder. “Only for you,” you gasp out, his lips pressing the sensitive spot on your next just below your ear.

When his hand cups your breast, he doesn’t squeeze. It’s more of a massage, a gentle caress and he rubs your nipple with his thumb. “That’s my good girl.” He hums. There’s been plenty of times that you’ve gone over phrases or nicknames that might trigger you, so he’s confident that you won’t react negatively.

“Joel.” Things that seemed silly years ago aren’t so silly to you now, and the cooing softness of Joel’s usually deep, rough voice is so soothing as his work-calloused hands slide over your skin. Your far hand is tangled in the blanket as he leans over you, but the other anchors you to him instead. It explores the parts of his body you haven’t touched before — trim waist and strong thighs instead of the soft stomach and broad shoulders that you know so well. “Joel. Joel.” His name is a chant on your lips, growing shallower and lighter each time.

“That’s it.” He encourages, continuing to play with your breast until he feels your thighs press together and shift, wanting friction. “Gonna take care of you.”

It’s a promise, one you want to drown yourself in as much as you want to drown in kissing him. Deciding that you can only really do one of those things, you surge upward to press an open mouthed kiss to his lips, inviting him to devour you, too.

His hand has to nudge your thighs open again after his palm skims over your belly. Caressing it softly and he would say something, but reminding you of your past wouldn’t be right for this moment. Instead, his fingers comb through the soft curls covering you, gently working through them to slick skin underneath.

The deep sigh that emanates from you is almost revolutionary, and for the first time in longer than you care to remember, your eyes slip shut in pleasure to focus solely on the feeling of Joel’s hands on your body. Forgetting where you end and he begins was a seemingly impossible task not so long ago, but now you moan softly and shift your legs open for him even wider like a flower opening up for the sun.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good for me.” He moans, cock twitching at your surrender to the pleasure and he loves that you aren’t tensing up. His fingers slide through your folds, gathering the wetness and he starts a slow figure eight around your sex. Curling your entrance and coming back up to slide around your clit through your lips. “Feel good, beautiful girl?”

“So good.” It’s unbelievable just how good but this is part of Joel’s magic. He can just make everything else fade away. Your hips tilt up and you sigh again, sinking further into the mattress. “More, honey? Please?”

“You want my fingers inside you, beautiful girl?” He asks as he kisses down your throat. His mouth waters at the thought of suckling at your tits and he looks up at you to make sure you’re still on the same page. ‘More’ could mean just more of his rubbing your clit.

“Yes. God, please.” Nodding almost frantically, the hand that you had had tangled in his blanket comes up to grasp his shoulder and hold him close so you can kiss him endlessly.

He wants to chuckle at how desperate you sound but he just hums softly. Aware that you are actually starting to enjoy yourself. His fingers make another trip around your clit and this time, he doesn’t circle your entrance, just slowly starts to press, feeling you start to yield.

The soft moan he gets from you almost immediately makes him shiver, but you’re lost to it. Every sensation in your body has narrowed down to Joel’s touch and pushed every other thought out of your mind. Maybe he is that good with his hands or maybe it’s just how much you love him, or maybe it’s both. No matter what it is, it’s floating away with you on a cloud.

Your body doesn’t resist, you aren’t pushing him away. If anything, your hips are rolling down to meet his touch. He groans your name and nuzzles your breast with his cheek, his nose, before he finally wraps his lips around the stiff peak.

That extra burst of sensation makes you moan out loud, back arching off the bed and fingers digging into Joel’s arm to keep him from reeling back or second guessing himself. Close Is where you want him and you’re going to keep him there.

He hisses in pleasure against your breast, drunk on the sight of your eyes closed and lips parted so perfectly as you moan again. He doesn’t stop, just slowly curling his fingers up inside you to search for that pleasure spot.

Each time you moan for him is like a revelation all your own. Your body is doing all of its own talking now, rolling like waves in the ocean and pulled toward Joel’s own body like a magnet. The pull between you is so strong that when he finds your g-spot you keen and moan out his name loud enough that anyone in the house could have easily heard, but you’re too wrapped up in him to care or notice.

“That’s it, beautiful girl? That’s your spot?” He pulls off your breast long enough to crow about finding that place before he is suckling again, his fingers concentrating on that small spot just to hear you keen again.

“I—fuck—yes!” If he had asked if you even have a spot you would have said no, but he’s found it with seemingly no effort whatsoever. Like his intuitive ability to read your body language for emotions, he can read it for your pleasure as well. There’s no doubt in your mind that he could probably pluck you like an instrument of he wanted to but right now all he wants is to hear your pleasure so you do not hold back. The shock of being so vocal is one thing, but for Joel? For Joel you would repeat your yeses and moans and chants of his name for the whole world to hear.

He listens to you, feels you. Wanting to make sure that no old ghosts come between you and your goal. He moans, cock twitching and throbbing against your thigh as he continues to focus on you, ignoring his body’s demands for your own.

It might surprise him even more than it does you, when you reach for him. Your other hand had settled on his hip and was surely squeezing imprints into his flesh, but pleasure has so much taken over your mind that the slide of your hand from his hip to wrapping your fingers experimentally around the thickness of his cock makes both of you gasp.

His eyes close and he can’t help the experimental rock of his hips before he pulls himself back. Reminding himself that he needs to focus on his task.

“It’s okay.” Murmured just as soon as you turn your head, you open your eyes and place lingering kisses on Joel’s jaw. “I want to. Please?”

“Whatever you want.” Joel promises you, his dark eyes on you and alight with passion. “Just let me know what you want.”

“I want to make you feel good, too.” It is the shared aspect of the experience that makes all the difference. That one of you isn’t taking everything from the other, but that you’re sharing the moment together. That’s what makes it an act of passion and love rather than just a sexual encounter. And for you? That makes all the difference.

“You are, beautiful girl.” He promises, his fingers slick and making the most beautiful sounds as they move in and out of you.

As the pair of you devolve back into moans and sighs of each other’s names, the coil of pleasure that tightens in your belly is unmistakable. The experimental strokes of your hand wrapped around his length become surer, pace quickening, your whole body rocketing toward your own end and wanting to take him with you despite knowing that it probably isn’t going to happen that fast. It’s the haze of actual, beautiful, loving pleasure that’s settled over you like a blanket, and it’s what you want more than anything.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Joel is moaning his encouragement and huffing against your breast. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you’re on the edge. You gonna cum for me?”

It’s possible you’ve entirely forgotten how to speak with how close you are, and your eyes slip closed again when you nod almost frantically. The moan from your lips is half his name and half incoherent begging, asking for the release that is so literally right at his fingertips. That only he can give you and that you hope past hoping that you can give to him too with each stroke of your fist.

He smirks, “yeah, you are.” He coos, his voice heavy with lust. “You’re gonna cum all in my hand for me.” He can feel the way your body is tensing under him, ready for the perfect moment to break apart in bliss. “My beautiful girl’s gonna cum.”

It is as much permission as you could look for, and your body seems to know it. The bow and bend in your back sharpen as the sound is strangled from your throat, cutting off his name with a desperate cry as you fall apart for his hand.

There’s something breathtaking about the way you cry out. Body quaking and trembling, not in fear, but in rapture.

The world stands still for those few moments. There is nothing at all except bliss, and the bulk of Joel's broad body above you, and the way he twitches in your hand seeming to run in perfect sync with the spasms of your own body as you come down from the clouds.

Joel doesn’t rush you, drawing it out with the slower curl of his fingers than before, kissing up your body before capturing your moans for him greedily with his mouth. Wanting to keep them for himself as he enjoys your orgasm with you.

“Joel.” It’s more of a whisper than a cry this time, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. “Tell me what you want?”

“Touch me.” He begs. “However you want. I want you to just touch me.”

Your hand had fallen away from him to make sure you didn’t squeeze too hard and accidentally hurt him at the peak or your own orgasm. Now you touch your fingers between your thighs to wet them with your own slick and wrap your hand around his cock again, feeling it twitch with the pressure and friction. Every stroke builds on the last, wanting him to feel every bit as good as you do right now.

Your touch, this time so much more sure of itself, makes his eyes fall close and his body rolls onto his back. Your own follows him so you are draped over him like a perfectly warm blanket. “Fuck, fuck, you are so— so fucking perfect.” He moans quietly. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

Praise is absolutely not lost on you, and every murmur and moan makes you work that much harder. Learning what works for him and what doesn’t isn’t difficult when Joel is so vocal, and before too long his hips are stuttering as he tries to chase the rhythm of your hand.

A shudder runs through his body, unsure if he would ever have you touch him like this. Panting as he curls his toes and his stomach tightens. “Gonna cum.” He warns you roughly.

“Show me.” You keep the pace of your movements and the same pressure with your hand and watch every movement in his body. “Let me see you, honey.”

He grunts, nodding seriously and his eyes flutter open again to focus on you. “Love you.” He knows you adoring hearing the words and he’s worked on being more vocal with you. It hadn’t helped him with Tess, he regretted not vocalizing his feelings before she died and he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I love you too, Joel.” And what a hell of a morning for it to be said for the first few times. You’ll never forget a single thing about any of it. Especially not the blissful relaxation on his face just half a second after every muscle in his body tenses, that moment of explosive pleasure washing over him in an enormous wave.

In the last year, orgasms had been necessary. Functional. Something to be dealt with quickly when the need came over him. Often hurried and moved on from, but from the way you keep stroking his cock and cooing after he starts to cum, he knows you have every intention of drawing this out for him. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

The splatter over his stomach and down your hand is a beautiful sight, one that you take in greedily before laying back beside him in bed. “I love you,” you murmur again, letting yourself sigh and bask in the moment.

Joel pants, nodding as he tries to catch his breath. “Hope to hell you do.” He chuckles. “Holy shit.”

“I do.” And it rests gently in your chest like a bird happily resting from its flight. “So much.”

He reaches for you, wrapping his arm around your back and he starts to stroke it idly. “How was that, beautiful girl? Was it worth the risk?” He knows it’s cost you to expose yourself again, mentally and physically. So he doesn’t want you to regret it.

“I’ve never been safer than I am with you.” Of that, you are completely certain. And you’ve never been more certain than you are in this moment.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

N2N: @missladym1981

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #The Last of US #TLoU #TLoU HBO #reader with trauma

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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months

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you know you never stood a chance - chapter eight

you know you never stood a chance series

eight: in this world, it's just us

series masterlist | prev chapter | epilogue

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 4.8k

Summary: Joel and Ellie return to Jackson.

Warnings: vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), like one spank, cum eating, Joel is mean/bad with feelings (but he gets a little better!), this is not canon compliant, no use of y/n, description of injury, two idiots at the end of the world learn to communicate, author is ugly crying because this is the end

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They’d told you last night, of course, when Joel and Ellie showed up at the gates. Tommy had come to your door himself. When he knocked in the middle of the night, you had assumed the worst. Not that the real news made you any less anxious.

They were planning on having a little welcome home dinner, nothing fancy, but something fun for the kids. Maria thought maybe it was a good time to take Alice up on her offer to babysit, since she’d have to get used to it sooner or later.

But then Alice volunteered to help do the cooking, and Maria wasn’t sure who else to ask.

“I’ll do it,” you said immediately.

She raised an eyebrow at you, which made you squirm. “Don’t you think you should be there?”

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll see Ellie around,” you said, giving her an overly-fake smile that clearly said, “don’t.”

“Uh-huh. That’s your call. But if you want to volunteer for diaper duty…”

“I’d love to. You should go, have some fun.”

“You sure you don’t want to come? Ellie was askin’ if you’d be there,” Tommy says.

“No, I’m sure. Y’all go on and have a good night. I promise we’ll be okay here,” you say, with little baby Alé cradled in your arms.

Tommy sighs and pinches his forehead in a way horribly reminiscent of his brother. And, of course, “It’s just—” he says, “I know y’all didn’t exactly part on good terms, but my brother, he’s got a weird way of showin’ he cares and—”

“Tommy,” your tone is warning. “For the last time, it wasn’t like that.”

“I saw y’all kissing,” he blurts.

You’re honestly surprised he kept his mouth shut for the last six months.

“No, you saw him try to make himself feel better after I got mad. Ain’t the same thing. Now y’all go on, go do whatever old married couples in the apocalypse do for a good time. And don’t tell me about any of it.”

They each kissed the baby’s forehead before they left, Tommy promising one of them would be back soon.

It’s heading toward summer, the nights not quite so chilly anymore, so you swaddle Alé and go to the rocking chair on the porch. The street is dark, though you can see the soft glow of the mess hall in the distance.

It’s not so dark that you don’t see him walking. His gait is off, not quite a limp, but you’d know that shadow anywhere—the broad shoulders, the puff of hair, the way he seems to hunch into himself to hide away.

“You’re going the wrong way,” you say before he can set off with whatever stupid thing he was about to say.

“Nah, I’m not.”

“Dunno if you heard, but they’re throwing you a party. You’re kind of supposed to be there.”

“So’re you.”

“Nope, I’m babysitting. Got better things to do tonight than look at your ugly mug.”

He shakes his head, standing now at the bottom of the porch steps. The single lamp flickers across his face, drawing shadows where the stress and age eat away at him.

You look away, down to the baby and the peace over her tiny face, softly breathing through dreamless sleep. Or whatever it was that babies dream about.

“Look—”

“Joel, if I wanted to talk to you, I would have shown up.”

“I’ll just keep comin’ back.”

“I’ll tell Tommy.”

“You can’t threaten me with my own brother.”

“Ok, I’ll tell Maria.”

“Damn,” he shakes his head. “You got me there.”

“Go away, Joel. Go enjoy your party.” It’s softer than you meant it to be, and when his eyes catch yours, you know he didn’t miss that.

He gives you a nod, jaw ticking, and walks away. You want to feel victorious, and you do; it just stings all the same.

Maria comes home after an hour and a half. She’s got impeccable timing, as Alé has just begun to stir and realize that you are, unfortunately, not her mother. Nor do you have milk to offer her. Her little face rubs against your shirt while she begins to wail.

“You got a sixth sense about that,” you tell Maria.

She laughs. “Guess I do.”

“It’s kind of neat,” you say. “Like even after decades of technology and convenience, our bodies still know what to do.”

“It is,” she says absentmindedly, and she’s looking at you in a way you do not want to be looked at right now, so you gather up your jacket and your book.

“Okay, cool, hope you had fun, good night!” You make it as far as opening the screen door before she stops you.

“He come by?”

Your mouth drops open. “You betrayed me!”

“Of course I didn’t. Seriously? It was Tommy.”

“That little rat.”

“You wanna go tell him off? He’s still down at the hall.” She’s got a glint in her eye again, the one that makes you feel both laughed at and cared about.

“You’re not funny,” you say, shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

“It was an accident. He did good when Joel asked about you, but then he asked about Alé.”

You laugh, something warm and fond in your chest, even if your heart keeps ticking up a notch. You turn the knob of the front door.

“They liked your gift.”

Damn it, how does she keep doing that? You pause your escape and look up at her, finding honesty there.

“Ellie liked it?”

“They both did,” Maria says, and tells you how several of the townsfolk had, in fact, not liked it, but Joel and Ellie sure did.

You weren’t sure you were actually going to give it to him, time and irritation having grown into anxiety over it. But other people were giving housewarming gifts, and to be fair, you had made it for Joel.

The quilt was folded neatly and tied with twine. Most of it was an array of colors, working with what scraps could be spared. Maria had assured you that keeping folks warm was always a good use.

He hadn’t noticed, at first. She thought maybe he was having some kind of attack, actually, when Tommy told him it was from you. He had gone oddly blank and frozen for a minute. After he came back to himself, he had run his fingers over the worn, soft fabric, and then cleared his throat and moved on.

Ellie didn’t. She was chilly and pleased as punch to have a blanket. When she unfolded it to spread across her lap, she burst out laughing.

“The hell’s the matter with you?” Joel asked her.

She was laughing too hard to breathe, let alone answer him, so he stomped over.

You had saved all the white squares to spell “fuck you” in block letters across the middle of the quilt.

For a moment, he stood there, just staring at it. But between the way it made his chest feel like it was full of bubbles and the way Ellie was now pointing at his dumbfounded expression and laughing so hard she was crying, he couldn’t help it. He joined her, absolutely fucking falling apart in hysterics.

“No way,” you scoffed at Maria when she reached that part of her retelling.

“Yeah. He lost it. Scared some of the kids.”

It doesn’t take him long to notice. He figures he still had an internal sensor wired to be aware of your presence. A safety feature turned bug.

You’re leaning against the wall across the room, just watching. Taking them in from a safe distance. Ellie sees where he’s looking and jumps up, running over.

She throws her arms around your neck and hugs you. You hug her back, the rush of relief at her well-being overtaking you.

“I’m glad you’re still here,” she says

“I’m glad you’re back. And you’re okay?”

She nods and opens her mouth, then looks around at the hall full of people.

“S’ok, you can tell me everything tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Sure thing, kiddo. I’m on patrol in the morning, but I’ll find you after.”

“No, you’re not,” Tommy says, coming up behind you and clapping a hand on each shoulder. He’s looking over Ellie’s shoulder, where Joel hovers on the other side of the room, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Ain’t this your party? Go have fun,” he says to Ellie.

You watch as she bounds over to Joel and points to you, like he hadn’t seen you first.

Tommy gives your shoulders a squeeze and leans in close. “Look, I know ya said you weren’t scared, but you look it. You don’t gotta tell me anything, but if you need me to keep him away from you, just say the word.”

Not for the first time, your heart clenches with fondness, and you duck out of his grasp so you can turn to face him.

“Don’t worry about me,” you say, trying to put as much earnestness into the words and your eyes as you can.

“M’serious. He’s my brother, and I love him, but I know he’s not always done the best things and—“

“Hey.” The sharp tone of your voice stops his rambling. “Thank you, Tommy, seriously. But I promise it’s fine.”

Joel wasn’t going to bother you again. He wasn’t. But then he caught Tommy shooting him a suspicious look over your shoulder, and he can’t stop himself from making his way over.

Tommy’s telling you about your shift change tomorrow, something about having to swap someone to cover for Sam, which turned into a whole mess of scheduling. You’ve been bumped to dinner duty, which is fine by you anyway.

You don’t get to tell him that, though. Something flickers across his face, a wrangled mess of hurt and happiness. It’s the only warning you got.

“Y’ain’t over here botherin’ her, right?” Joel says gruffly.

You roll your eyes. “You two are somethin’ else.”

Tommy rubs the back of his neck, but Joel says, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You spin around to stare him down, arms crossed over your chest. “It means I don’t need either of you playin’ bodyguard, but especially not you.”

“If ya came here just to yell at me, let’s go outside.”

“Fine,” you snap. You hadn’t, actually, but then again, he’s always done this, crawled up under your skin like a tick.

And so you find yourself in a sick copy of six months past, standing and glaring at Joel outside the mess hall, arms folded across your chest.

“Well, go on then,” he says.

You open your mouth to say something mean, anything really, but what comes out is, “Is Ellie really okay?”

He opens and shuts his mouth. “Uh, yeah,” he says, and rubs the back of his neck. “She will be. She’ll be pissed if I tell you everything without her, but we had a real rough go of it, coupla close calls.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, seeing their mangled bodies from your nightmares. You take a deep breath and find him watching you with a pinched brow and a deep-set frown.

“And you? You’re okay too?” you say.

“Yeah, a’course. I’m fine.” He pauses and scratches his beard. “Look, m’not sorry.”

“Fine.” You turn to walk away, to go back and grab your things and get out of there before Tommy can see that you’re upset.

“Now, just hold on a minute,” Joel says, jogging to follow after you. “You hear me out.”

“No thanks. I don’t need an excuse, Joel. We don’t owe each other a damn thing.”

“Can you just stop bein’ a stubborn brat for two goddamn minutes? I’m tryin’ to tell you something.”

You spin around to face him with a nasty sneer you hadn’t worn the whole time Joel was gone. “Maybe I don’t want to hear anything you have to say to me.”

He pushes you up against the wall. It’s not rough, but he’s got a firm grip on your shoulders, and for one fleeting moment, you think about yelling for help. He must see something in your eyes because he drops his arms to his sides and steps back.

“Wasn’t gonna—I wasn’t gonna hurt you.” He mumbles the last bit to the ground, can’t look you in the eye, can’t see fear on your face for the first time.

“Wait,” you say as he turns to leave. “I know you weren’t, Joel.” You can’t look at him either, voice quiet. “I’m just not used to people touching me like that anymore.”

“I’m not—I swear—”

“I know. Joel,” you sigh and look up at the stars, wishing you believed in any higher power to ask for a little guidance. But you don’t; you’ve seen enough that all you trust is your own two feet on the ground and the whole damn Miller clan.

You scuff the toe of your boot in the dirt. “Why’re y’all like this?” you grumble.

“What?”

Whoops. You hadn’t actually meant to say that out loud. You sigh again and look up at him. “We can’t fight. I don’t want Alé to think her uncle and auntie can’t get along.”

“Auntie?”

“Yeah. Your dumb ass left me here with your brother as a watchdog. What did you think was gonna happen?”

Truth be told, he didn’t know. Didn’t really know Tommy anymore. “That’s good,” he says after a moment. “I’m glad ya weren’t alone.”

“Oh, I tried. He’s a persistent little fucker.”

He looks up at you and sighs, shaking his head. “I’m still not sorry,” the words come out fast, like he knows he’s got thirty seconds before you run away again. “Nearly died too many damn times. Don’t think I could’ve gotten us all out alive.”

You’ve thought about this moment more than you’d like to admit. Thought about the things you were going to say, the cruel ways you could dig between his ribs and pry. Thought about slapping him in the face, even. But in the end, you’re too tired of it all to consider any of it.

“If you wanna talk, let’s go someplace and talk.”

It catches him off guard. You feel spitefully pleased that he doesn’t know what to expect from you. But it stings a little, too.

You end up going back to his place. Tommy had wasted no time helping get things set up for them to have a home, hopeful that it would keep them there.

You make tea in his kitchen, using the things he didn’t know he had. He accepts a mug of it, even though it’s decaf.

“Too late for you to be having caffeine anyway,” you scold when he grumbles.

He sits down across from you at the dining table, mug wrapped in both hands. You take a moment to look at him. He looks more than six months older. He’s gone grayer, and there are new scars, new marks on him that you don’t recognize.

He looks away from your scrutinizing, tapping fingers against his mug, and shakes his head. “I ain’t got a thing to say for myself. I’m not sorry I left you here, but I am sorry I hurt you.”

Your mouth runs off without you. “Holy shit. Who are you, and what’ve you done with Joel Miller? An apology?”

But he doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t roll his eyes and call you a brat. Instead, he looks down at the table and purses his lips.

It makes you shift in your seat, legs turning automatically to angle for a better escape route. “Hey,” you say, swallowing hard. You wait until he looks up. “It is what it is. I didn’t have any delusions about what this was.” You gesture loosely between you.

“I mighta.”

You feel a lot like the time your sister pushed you off the diving board at the neighborhood pool, limbs flailing until you landed flat on your stomach in the water. “Run that by me again?”

“I got it in my head that you were mine. And then I didn’t like that much, so I told myself I was doin’ what was best for both of us.”

It’s your turn to purse your lips, but you don’t look away, afraid that if you do, he’ll stop talking.

He sighs again. “Look, I ain’t good at this. But I care about ya, okay?”

“Joel—”

“I know you’ve got a life here, now. Don’t know if you’ve got any room in it for me. But Ellie knows it’s my fault you didn’t come, so don’t go pushin’ her away, okay?”

“Joel—”

“And I know you got close with Tommy. I’ll just meet up with him somewhere you’re not, tell him he’s gotta warn you if I’m comin’ over or something.”

“Joel!”

He shuts his mouth, eyes wide.

“God, when you get going, you get going. I don’t think you’ve ever said so many words to me in a day, let alone one sitting.” It’s not what you meant to say. It’s never what you mean to say, and usually, you don’t care about your runaway tongue, but right now, you really want to say the right thing.

You’re not so far. He’s shutting down quick, you can see the walls going back up as he works his jaw back and forth.

“Joel,” you try again, softer. “You don’t have to do all that. I care about you, too. I spent so long trying not to that when you gave me an excuse to hate you, I jumped on it. I’m not any good at this, either.”

He watches your face carefully, peeling his fingers away from his mug and reaching the hand across the table. His warm hand slides between your own and your mug. He cradles it, your right hand in his left. Your breath catches.

You stare at where you connect, his broad palm covering yours. There are fucking butterflies in your stomach, like you’re a fucking teenager. Your ears and the back of your neck burn as you have to bite your lip to keep from grinning.

“What’s so funny?” He starts to pull back.

You tighten your grip and hold on, giving in to the urge to smile. “Not laughin’, Miller. Just,” and you shake your head. “We’re too damn old to be so stupid about this.”

He shakes his head, jaw twitching, before his own smile peeks through. “Y’ain’t wrong.”

You sit there for a few minutes, the silence warmed by your still-steaming tea and clasped hands.

“I know you said we don’t owe each other anything,” he says slowly. “But I was thinkin’ maybe I owe you a better kind of apology.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna get on your knees and grovel for me?”

His smile curls into a dangerous smirk. “I’m gonna get on my knees, but you’re gonna be the one beggin’, sweetheart.”

“Don’t make promises you aren’t going to keep.”

He pulls his hand from yours and takes both mugs, dumping them down the sink while you protest. But you don’t whine about it for long, because he turns and quirks an eyebrow at you. “If you’d hurry up, I was plannin’ on making good on that promise right now.”

You let him pull you up the stairs, trying to leave your anxieties behind on the landing. He’s kissing you before the bedroom door is shut, sliding his hands up your shirt to hold onto your bare waist.

“This okay, darlin’?”

You nod, bumping your nose against his in your eagerness to recapture his lips. You think he meant to go slow, but it doesn’t work out. Neither of you really know how, anyway, though you think maybe you’d like to learn.

Once he has you peeled out of your jeans and tee, he sits you on the edge of the bed and goes to make good on his promise.

“Wait,” you say, even though the last thing you want him to do is stop.

He freezes, worry written in the lines of his face.

“You can’t really be on your knees like that, Joel; they’ll be so swollen tomorrow.”

“S’worth it,” he grunts, trying to bat off your hands where they’ve wrapped their concern in his shirt.

“Nah, get up here,” you say, tugging until he eases himself back up.

“Fine, I got a better idea anyway,” he says, laying back on the pillows and pulling until you straddle him. “Get up here, sweetheart.”

You feel like you’ve come down with a fever, body gone hot but shivering from the cold. “Um, what?”

He shakes his head, mostly at himself. Of course you don’t know what he wants; he’s the only person in this godforsaken world that’s eaten your cunt.

“Come sit on my face, baby. Let me taste you. And no, y’ain’t gonna hurt me, just get up here.”

You shuffle forward until he loses his patience and yanks on your hips, jerking you forward so you have to catch yourself on the headboard. It works out anyway since he doesn’t give you any time to settle before he’s pulling you down. He licks right into your cunt, not wasting any time, before licking up to suck at your clit.

You cry out and apologize as your hips jerk forward.

“S’good, baby, take what you need,” he says, hot breath against your cunt before he gets back to work. He has you falling apart in no time, greedily lapping at everything you offer.

“Anyone touch you while I was gone?” he growls, nipping at your clit.

You cry out and grind down into his mouth, but he pulls back a little and slaps your ass.

“I asked you a question.”

“No, no one,” you gasp, trying again to reach his mouth.

He rewards you with his tongue, licking and sucking and biting until you give him another orgasm.

“Why’s that, pretty girl? Surely you could have fucked your way through this town by now.”

“Don’t—ahh—didn’t want anyone else.” His mouth has you confessing like your mama used to insist on when you were little. Admitting your most shameful secrets in the dark room. “Never did.”

He leans back to talk again, and you whine, a truly desperate, pathetic enough sound that he forgets what he had to say and gives you what you want.

He doesn’t quit until your thighs are shaking with the effort. He taps your leg to get you to slide off and immediately flips your positions so you’re caged under his body.

You bring your hands up to his biceps, gliding them over his broad shoulders, and cup his face. He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead as he slides into your warm, welcoming cunt. He pulls his head back a little to watch as he presses inside, drinking up the way your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, muscles tightening against the stretch.

“Shh, baby, just relax. You can take it,” he kisses down your neck as he whispers. “I know it’s been a while, but that pretty little pussy can fuckin’ take it.”

You’re trembling under him, twitching and writhing as he kisses and bites across your collarbone and down to your breasts. He works himself deeper, sucking on your nipples until you cum again, muscles loosening just enough until his cock is buried to the base.

“Fuck,” he bites out, gritting his teeth and grinding into you. “Fuckin’ hell, I missed you.”

He catches the look in your eye and cuts you off. “And not just your cunt, either, smartass.”

You grin, and he kisses you, licking inside like he can wipe away your smugness.

You break away and kiss his neck up to bite his earlobe. “You fuckin’ like it.”

The look he gives you is overwhelmingly fond. It feels like something cracks inside your sternum.

“Yeah, I do,” he says.

You bury your face in his neck, biting down on the tendon on a particularly rough thrust. “You can’t just say shit like that, Joel. You’re gonna make me think you like me.”

“I don’t know how else I gotta say it, baby. I like you.”

You whimper, and he doesn’t press you to respond. Doesn’t need to. Instead, he brings his hand down to worry at your sore clit, brushing gently as you arch up, squirming both toward and away from the overstimulation.

“One more, gimmie one more,” he demands, pace increasing. Your body, as always, listens, and as your cunt grips him, he pulls out to spill on your pussy, coating your coarse curls in his spend.

He doesn’t leave you time to wonder if he’ll go back to cleaning you up now that there’s running water. He slides down, crouching, and licks your combined mess before climbing back up to kiss you and share the salty tang of your pleasures.

He doesn’t leave you time to wonder if he’ll kick you out, either. “Stay,” he murmurs against your lips. “Please.”

You nod, letting him melt you into the mattress with his soft touches.

He gives you his shirt to sleep in, his possessive post-orgasm brain demanding to mark you further. Unfortunately, he didn’t think it through, because that’s when you see it.

“What the fuck is that?” you ask, pointing at the still-pinkish scarring.

“Oh, that’s nothin’,” he says, arms dropping to lay across it in maybe the least casual way you’ve ever seen.

But you’ve got something sharp behind your eyes, something calculating. “You said you were fine.”

“I am fine. Quit your worryin’.”

“Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll hear it from Ellie tomorrow. Unless you want a chance to give me your version of the story.”

He groans and covers his face with both hands. “Fine. I fell and had a run-in with a bit of rebar. But I’m fine now.”

“You keep sayin’ that, making it sound like you definitely were not fine at one point.”

He thinks you’re going to be mad all over again, that you’ll say there was something you could have done, had you been there.

“I was fine until I wasn’t. We got it out, Ellie stitched me up, and we rested until I was better.”

“And the part you don’t want to tell me?”

“It got infected. Sepsis or some kind of bacteria. It wasn’t… it didn’t look good. Honestly, I don’t remember much of it.” He chances a look at you, and the tight feeling in his chest starts to creep in.

“Joel,” you whisper. You purse your lips, eyes scrunching, and take a shaky breath through your nose.

“Darlin’, please. I don’t—I can’t do this right now. Ya can’t cry like this right now.”

You close your eyes and take a few breaths. “Okay. But promise you’ll tell me everything another day?”

“I promise. C’mon, lay down.” He tugs at your wrist, and you let your body follow, curling up to his bare chest.

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Nah, I’m tellin’ you. It’s fine now.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head and then helps himself to another at your lips. “Stop that,” he says when your eyes well up again.

“M’sorry. It’s just been a helluva fuckin’ day.”

“I know, baby. But you can rest now, okay? I got you.”

You don’t have to look far to find Ellie in the morning. She’s sitting at the kitchen table when you come down in just Joel’s shirt and your panties. Luckily, it’s long enough to cover everything, but you both freeze for a moment, staring at the other’s wide eyes.

“Come on,” she groans. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? One night. You couldn’t go one night?” She’s thrown a hand over her eyes.

“I’m not naked, you drama queen,” you say, setting the kettle on.

“It’s so gross; he’s so old,” she groans.

“I’m not that much younger,” you remind her.

“Yeah, but you’re like, cool and stuff.”

“Sorry, honey,” you say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’m not that cool, either.”

She lets her head fall against the table. “Nope, can’t do it. I’m going to the mess for breakfast. Please, both of you be dressed, and like, six feet apart when I get back.”

You just laugh, digging through the cabinet for clean mugs as she grabs her bag and flees.

“What’s all the ruckus?” Joel asks, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist while you pour the tea.

“Oh, just traumatizing the teenager all over again.” You crane your neck to press a kiss to his cheek, but he catches you and steals it from your mouth instead.

“Be careful,” you murmur. “I could get used to this.”

“I fuckin’ hope so,” he says, “‘Cause I could get used to this. Pretty girl in my shirt makin’ me a drink.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, exactly like every day when I lived in your apartment.”

“Well,” he holds you a little tighter, kissing up your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe not exactly like that.”

epilogue

This is the end, y'all. I love you, and thank you so so much.

*title from "As It Was" by Harry Styles

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #you know you never stood a chance series #the last of us fic #the last of us smut

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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

Text

The Aftermath || LN4 {9}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando risks upsetting the FIA to give you the memorial they denied a year ago. Warnings: 18+ only, alcohol, fluff, tearful Lando 🥺 WC: 2k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

“Ride with us!”

You frowned down at Lando’s grinning face from the balcony above the garage thinking you had heard him wrong. “What?”

He pointed to the grid where the trailer for the parade was hooked up and waiting. “You too, maman.”

Maria squeezed your arm with a smile as she turned towards the stairs. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Lando met you at the bottom, his arm curling around your waist as he guided you to the gate at the back while Zak walked with Maria. His lips brushed your cheek as he dipped his head to whisper, “Think something’s going on with those two?”

You smiled at the sound of Maria’s laugh and shrugged. “I don’t know, but as long as she’s happy then it’s got to be a good thing.”

Lando’s hands gripped your waist and lifted you into the back of the trailer before he leapt up to join you. It was only once you had taken hold of the rail tightly that you spared a glance around the other drivers and noticed they all carried wreaths.

“What’s that?”

Lando shrugged shyly as he stepped in behind you, one hand holding the rail with you and the other waving to the crowd. “Since you missed the memorial at home I thought maybe we could have one of our own.”

You turned away from the crowd and he dropped his waving hand to cage you between his arms as the truck began to drive down off the grid, saving you from jostling at the sudden movement.

“Won’t the FIA have a problem with that?”

“What can they do? Penalise all of us?” he laughed. “And if it’s a fine, we’re happy to pay it.”

“They’ll blame you.”

“They’ve made so many wrong conclusions, but at least they would be right this time,” he joked. “Relax, love, it’ll be fine.”

Lando went back to waving to the fans and you smiled at the ones who held up signs for René, most of them orange hearts or the French flag with his driver number in the middle.

It wasn’t long that the smooth ride slowed and the trailer came to a stop at the barrier that had long since been replaced but you still saw the mangled metal and oil slick in your mind's eye.

You startled a little when Lando’s hand came to rest on yours and gently pulled it free of the rail. You shook your head to clear the image and the sounds of the track returned along with Lando’s calm voice as he murmured encouraging words in your ear.

You focused on his voice as he jumped off the back of the trailer before offering his hands to catch you next. Already the other drivers had made their way off track and were placing the bouquets and wreaths along the barrier. Some whispered quiet prayers and signed the cross, while others took a moment to reflect in silence.

You drifted over to the barrier with Lando at your side and sank to your knees in the soft grass running your fingers through the blades, waiting for the crushing weight to settle into your chest. The seconds ticked by as the wind picked up, the breeze a cooling welcome touch to your skin, but still the pain never came. There was only the permanent sense of sadness that hung like a small cloud in the sky no matter how sunny the day was.

“I miss you,” you whispered as you plucked a single red rose from the bouquet Lando held. Its sweet scent reminded you of the garden you had planted with René at home and the thorns dug into your palm as your hand tightened around the stem before you laid it among the rest. “You should see your fans. There’s so much love for you here, I can feel it all around me. Your mum was right.”

The drivers started to make their way back to the trailer and Lando pressed a kiss to your forehead. “When I was waiting beside him at the altar he made me promise if anything happened to him that I would take care of you. I never got to say the words to him because the doors opened and you walked in looking like an absolute angel,” his voice was thick with emotion and he cleared his throat before placing his bouquet with the others. “You have my word, René, I swear on my life.”

He grabbed the sunglasses tucked into the collar of his hoodie, pushing them over his red eyes and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he buried his head in your neck.

“He knows, babe,” you murmured as you rubbed his back until the small shudders of his silent sobs eased, being his strength for once. Neither of you acknowledge the damp marks on your shoulder, neither of you said a word as he looked at the flowers once more before heading back to the trailer.

“Take as long as you need, love,” he said quietly as he went.

You stood alone absorbing the moment, basking in the love that was surrounding you as you touched the cold metal barrier and looked back at Lando to see Maria placing her hand on his shoulder with a small smile. “Watch over him, Ren. Please keep him safe, for me.”

You were drunk, and so was Lando. There was no other way to put it. Finishing third had not been expected after the car’s performance in qualifying but, by luck or miracle, the conditions had been perfect for him to set a fast pace and move up the grid. So, needless to say, you were celebrating the hell out of the accomplishment with Lando in a packed nightclub full of his supporters and team.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!” The smile hadn’t left your face since he passed the chequered flag but with all the alcohol in your system you couldn’t feel the ache of the muscles in your cheeks. You cupped his face and traced his dimples with your thumbs before kissing him and getting lost in the spur of the moment.

“I love you and I am so lucky to have you.” There was no stopping the words flowing from your mouth, you were too excited for him since it had been a while since his last podium. The pressure from his Principle to get more points could finally ease a little and he was already looking more relaxed. “I think I drank too much, the room's kind of spinning.”

Lando’s laugh was contagious as he took the glass of champagne from your hand and finished it for you with a suggestion to dance instead. It took far longer than expected to make it through the crowd to the dance floor with everyone wanting to stop and congratulate him but you were happy to take it slow seeing how happy it made him.

He eventually extracted himself from the crowd and caught up to where you had found yourself under the lights and amongst the swell of people dancing the night away. His fingers laced with yours as he drew your hands up his body before he draped them around his neck and he pulled you closer.

You didn’t even notice the hundreds of people around you when Lando started moving against you. There was nothing but him and the music that his hips moved to, and the sound of his voice as he brushed his lips below your ear.

“You are breathtakingly beautiful, love.” The song changed and you turned in Lando’s arms deciding to tease him back as you danced against him, rolling your hips to the sensual music. His hands tightened their grip, his fingers digging into your hips where they had come to rest. “We need to leave before I do something very naughty right here in front of all these people.”

You peeked over your shoulder to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his glazed eyes full of promise. “But this is your party.”

“So I can do what I want, and I want you.” He kissed the space where your shoulder met your neck. “You’re driving me crazy.”

You stepped out of his touch, immediately missing the warmth of his body against your back, and took his hand. A grin grew on his face when you tugged him forward and he was quick to overtake you on the way to the door, separating the crowd and keeping you tucked in behind his body like a shield.

The cool air of the night hit your lungs and a shiver rolled down your spine at the sudden drop in temperature until Lando pulled you closer and waved for a taxi. It was hardly worth putting the seat belt on for how far down the road the car was going to take you but after Lando had opened the door for you he had walked around the car and taken his seat he had tutted after seeing the belt buckle empty.

“Not on my watch, love,” he said as he reached over you and grabbed the belt. “I need you safe and sound.”

Your lips pressed into a line when you tried to hide your amusement at his protectiveness. “Yes, daddy.”

His eyes flashed to yours and he curled an eyebrow up before he started biting his bottom lip again. “What did you say?”

The taxi pulled into the hotel entrance and you didn’t wait for Lando to come and open your door. You were already walking to the room as fast as your high heels would allow while he rushed to pay for the fare.

You could hear him racing to catch up when you turned down the hall that your suite was on. A squeak escaped before you could silence it when he caught up and pinned you to the door with his body, his lips stealing the soft moan that followed.

“What. Did. You. Say?” he enunciated between each kiss as he swiped his card over the handle and opened the door.

You almost fell backwards as it suddenly swung open but Lando’s arm curled around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Your lips parted with a heady sigh as you felt his hard length begging to be freed from his jeans but he smirked and shook his head when you tried to reach for him.

“Uh-uh, I’m still waiting,” he tutted as he walked you backwards into the room and kicked the door shut behind him. “I want to hear that little quip again, love.”

You teased him with a smile as you reached behind your back for the zip that kept your dress on. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to be a father.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he chuckled as he moved your hand and dragged the zip slowly down your spine. “But with you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Wouldn’t be so bad?” you repeated with a cocked eyebrow and a playful smile. “I understand the ‘no rizz Norris’ now.”

The material slipped down your body and you felt Lando’s exhale warm across your neck before he kissed your racing pulse. “Do you want me to tell you how much I would love to settle down with you, start a family and grow old with you? Because I will. I want it all. With. You.”

You tilted your head to give him more access as his words and the alcohol made your head spin. All of the futures you had once thought would be with René had died with him, but they came crashing back with Lando and you could see it playing out in your head. “When were you planning on telling me this?”

He smirked as his hands trailed down your body before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he made his way to the bedroom. “When you called me daddy.”

Click here for part ten.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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gingiesworld · 6 months

Text

Family is Forever

Chapter Seven

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst. Attempted SA. Violence

Taglist: @fxckmiup @ginnsbaker @gb12d @angrywhisperslove @louxbloom @casquinhaa @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin @wandanats-goodgirl @forthelesbians @the-ox-fan20 @marvelogic

18+ MINORS DNI

Since Wanda left Y/N's apartment weeks ago, she hadn't really spoke to them. Even when it comes to dropping the twins off or picking them up, she would remain in the hall. This was something that Y/N had found strange.

"I have a business trip in two weeks." Y/N informed her. "Pepper wants me to lead the meeting at the Manhatten branch."

"Ok." Wanda nodded as Y/N watched her curiously.

"What is going on Wanda?" They asked her.

"Nothing." She spoke bluntly as Y/N looked behind them as they waited for the twins.

"Come on Wanda, talk to me." They spoke tenderly as she shook her head.

"I can't do this right now Y/N." She spat just before the twins came to the door with their bags in hand, both hugging Y/N goodbye.

"I will see you at the decathelon." Y/N told Billy who beamed. "I will make sure I am back in time for it." They reassured him as he nodded with a smile. Y/N watched as the twins followed Wanda out of the hall. A sigh leaving their lips as they turned around and headed back inside.

As the hours ticked by, they decided they didn't want to sit on the sofa and wallow in self pity and hatred. So they decided to grab their jacket and keys and headed out. Sending a text to Maria, hoping she would be up for drink and a chat.

"You know, it has been way too long since we hung out." She teased them as they both sat at the bar.

"Well, I just need to get out." They told her as she gave them a sad smile. Accepting the beer from them with a smile. "I just, I have realised that I am truly alone."

"No you're not." She told them softly, already noticing how tired and thin they look.

"I am. Without Wanda and the twins I am nothing." They told her honestly. "I ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me and I can'r fix it because now Wanda won't say more than two words to me."

"Maybe she needs to adjust to this new arrangement too." Maria reasoned as Y/N shook their head no. "Nat has told me that she isn't doing the greatest either. She misses you but the two of you are too stubborn to talk."

"I don't work as much as I used too." Y/N informed her. "Pepper informed me that they were cutting back on my load because of the screw ups I have made." Y/N chuckled dryly. "It's funny how when I have more time, Wanda wants a divorce." Maria just watched her best friend, listening as they spoke, getting everything off of their chest. "Therapy is pointless because all they want to do is prescribe me medication, saying I'm depressed. I know I'm depressed and I don't need a doctor to tell me." They flagged down the bartender to order another two beers. "As well as sleeping tablets because I haven't really slept since I moved out of the house. I get at the most four hours a night if I am lucky."

"I am so sorry Y/N." Maria spoke tenderly. "But you will always have me if you need to talk."

"Thank you Maria but I will be fine." They told her before they changed the subject, wanting to hear about her life and what they have missed.

Y/N spent the majority of their week getting ready for the work trip with the help of Pepper. Making sure they had everything they needed, hotel bookings and everything before they headed to Manhatten, driving for a couple of hours before they reached their destination, hoping to get this job sorted out before Billy's big day.

"So, they have gone a work trip." Natasha stated as Wanda hummed. "Maria was the one who told me about it Wanda, and that you have completely froze them out."

"Nat, I appreciate you coming around but I have a study date." Wanda told her tiredly. "The twins are at Pietro's and I have my final exam in a couple of weeks."

"Wanda." Nat gave her a disapproving look. "You aren't even divorced and you're moving on already."

"I am not!" Wanda yelled as she placed her cup down. "I am not moving on. It's just Simon and I studying and going over what we have learned in class."

"Ok." Nat gave a her a curt nod as she pursed her lips. "If you need me, call me and I will come running ok."

"Ok." Wanda sighed as she watched her friend leave. Having the water bottles on the table ready with some snacks as the doorbell rang.

As the evening wore on, Wanda had her folders and books all around her as she sat on the floor, a pen between her teeth as she read over a paragraph.

"What's the deal with you and your well, I don't know what to call them." Simon questioned as he looked up at the picture of the four of them together.

"It's complicated right now." Wanda told him.

"Are they here?" He asked as she shook her head no.

"They are on a work trip in Manhatten." Wanda informed him as he hummed, something flashing in his eyes as he approached Wanda who just looked up at him confused.

"So you have the house to yourself?" He asked as he helped her to her feet.

"I do. Why?" She asked him confused as she took a step back from him, her whole being was on fire, telling her that something is wrong.

"Well, we could maybe do something more." He gripped her hips, pulling her into him as her hands went to his chest.

"No." She tried to get him off of him but he was stronger than her. Forcing her onto the sofa as she hit out and kicked at him. "Please stop." She cried as he moved to kissing and sucking her neck as he roughly groped her chest. Not realising that a car was pulling up, knocking on the door and getting no answer. So they decided to use their key, hearing the cries and the struggle coming from the living room.

"Just be a good slut and let me fuck you." Simon told her as she cried for him to stop and leave her alone.

"HEY!!!" They yelled as they ran towards them and tackled him from her. Wanda quickly shuffled to get off the sofa and stand against the wall. The tears falling as she sobbed loudly as she watched Y/N punch him repeatedly before both Maria and Nat came running in.

"Wanda." Nat looked at the broken woman as she pulled her to the kitchen. "What happened?" She questioned as she got Wanda some water.

"Stop Y/N!" Maria was yelling as she finally pulled them away.

"No!" They yelled as Maria pushed them against the wall. "He deserves more than what he's got for what he did."

"Let the police deal with it." She told them sternly. "You have kids to think of Y/N. And their mother." She watched as Y/N nodded, breathing heavily as they watched Simon struggle to sit up.

"Your wife wanted it." He said as he spat on the rug. Maria had to throw Y/N into a headlock as they tried to run passed her.

"Y/N, I am warning you now." Maria told them sternly. "I don't want to have to put you in a cell."

"Make it the same one as him." Y/N growled as their eyes remained on him.

"No." Maria spoke calmly as Nat and Wanda watched the two of them. "I've called Steve and Sam, and they will take care of him." Maria told them as she pushed them back before she grabbed her handcuffs. She glared at Simon as she cuffed him. "You make me sick." She seethed as he just spat in her face, in time for Steve and Sam to walk in.

"I guess we missed a party." Sam joked as the four of them just glared at him.

"Just get him out of here before I kill him." Y/N told them as they soon disappeared up the stairs. Nat on their heels as Maria stayed with Wanda as she gave her statement.

"Why did you come here?" She asked them as they grabbed a file.

"I forgot about this file." They told her. "I have a meeting tomorrow and this is last years stock readings for the New Jersey branch and I need it to compare with the Manhatten branch." They sighed as they stood up looking through the window. "I just never expected to see someone take advantage of Wanda like that and I just lost it. I just." They took a deep breath. "I will apologise to her." With that they walked passed her and headed down the stairs. Watching as Maria cleaned up before they headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Wanda asked them.

"I have to drive back to Manhatten." They told her without turning around.

"Your hand." Wanda stated as Y/N looked down at it.

"It's ok." They shrugged as they walked away. Wanda felt bad for how she froze them out but as they had defended her. Her heart dropping at the realisation she had screwed up the one good thing she had.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 11 months

Text

Why Does Change Hurt So Much? Pt. 2

Joel Miller X F!Reader Ellie Williams X Dina

Joel knew deep down he wouldn't be able to erase the memories of his past, nor could he hide the damage he had done. He just needed to accept it was time to move on, things would never be the same

a/n:thank you so much to everyone who read part 1! warnings:mentions of suicide/being suicidal, blood, near death experiences, self doubt, if I missed any please inbox me! Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Ellie watched the infirmary like a hawk everyday to see when Joel would finally be released to go back home. She needed to talk to him, to discuss things without it blowing up in her face and causing one of the only people she cared about to get hurt. Tommy had promised he would tell her when he went home if she was out on patrol. What she hadn’t been expecting was for Maria to send her out with the group that was to get the last of the medical supplies from the hospital. It had to be a joke, she’d been waiting for Joel to get better so that they could talk and now she wanted Ellie to just up and leave for who knows how long?

Jesse had been the one to convince her that if she did something that could benefit everyone in Jackson maybe Joel would be a little more willing to talk. It was the day they’d left that Joel was allowed to go back home, an hour before Ellie was on horseback Joel was stumbling into his living room. Tommy lied and said he was still in the bed for a few more days, claiming he’d sparked a small fever. It wasn’t Joel that was asking Tommy to lie for him, though it wouldn’t be the first time. No, it was you begging the younger Miller brother not to tell Ellie what was going on.

You held no anger towards her, knowing the risk that was leaving the walls of Jackson to go on a journey, but Joel was still healing. The stitches left behind a scar, directly next to the one that Ellie had had to sew all those years ago. Maybe that was why you were so afraid to let her near him right now, Joel had gotten hurt and it was enough to scare you. You’d spent hours talking while he laid in bed, from the last time he’d been in this same position, to what would happen next. Joel wanted to talk things out with Ellie, to put everything in the past and just move on, but he wasn’t sure where they could go from there.

“Baby, I can make coffee for myself you don’t need to worry,” Joel was staring you down, refusing to let you wait on him hand and foot anymore.

“Please Joel? I had to watch you basically become comatose for a week, the last thing I want to worry about is you hurting yourself,” You weren’t above begging, had done it on plenty occasions when it came to Joel.

He sighed softly, pushing away from the counter to let you take over for him. You smiled softly at him before finishing the simple task. Joel was thankful you weren’t set out on patrols, though Tommy never said as to why. It had been a thought that lingered in the back of his mind for the first few months of your relationship but he’d eventually moved on. You went to ask if he wanted anything to eat alongside his coffee before a small knock caught your attention. Shit, this wasn’t the best time for this to happen.

“Do you want to get the door?” Normally you’d run over to prevent Joel from seeing Ellie so soon, but you wanted them to talk.

“Oh I’m allowed to open the door but not make my own coffee?” His tone was teasing, and although you knew that meant he was in a good mood it could sour in an instant.

Ellie was twisting her fingers together, a nervous tick she’d picked up over the years that she hadn’t managed to shake. The sound of the door opening brought her attention back to the now, staring up at Joel as he stared down at her. You couldn’t look away from the coffee in front of you, unsure of what you’d say if you were confronted as well. Cold air was pouring into the kitchen as Joel and Ellie stared at one another, both staying completely silent.

“Hey, can we talk please?” It was a repeat of that day all over again, down to the damn coffee.

“Yeah, we can talk inside,” Joel moved away from the door, waiting for Ellie to step inside before shutting it tight.

You pushed the plunger down on the press once the coffee was ready, pouring a cup for Joel and offering one to Ellie. She politely declined, saying she never developed a taste for it. It had been something Joel teased her about for years before she’d hated him. Joel sat down in the chair slowly, being careful of his side that was still healing. Ellie sat across from him, watching the way he took the mug from you gently. She’d never been around couples enough to know when people were truly in love, but this? She could see the way Joel lit up when you were around, how much he wanted to pull you into his lap and smother your face with kisses. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before excusing yourself from the room, it was time for the two of them to talk about everything.

“Joel, I’m sorry,” Ellie wasn’t sure how she should start the conversation but it just slipped out.

“Ellie, I really don’t want to argue about this again,” Joel had gone through a million different scenarios while in the infirmary, and each one led back to the same dead end.

“I don’t want to argue with you Joel, I want to figure out how we can finally move past all the bullshit,” She’d talked with Jesse and Dina during the most recent trip, they offered the best advice they could but neither could truly understand the issues at hand.

Joel frowned, pulling the mug to his lips and letting the warm coffee slide down his throat. He’d barely remembered the ride back from the hospital, but he knew it was Ellie that helped get him home. That didn’t change things though, deep down he knew she was still hurt by his actions and that would never erase everything. It was selfish, possibly even a little bit stupid but Joel never claimed to be highly intelligent when it came to those he cared about. He crossed over half the country in search of his brother.

“You look at her differently than you looked at Tess,” Oh that was definitely the wrong thing to say.

“Tess and I were never together like that, it was too dangerous to get close in the QZ,” Joel’s grip tightened on the mug, his voice pitching an octave lower.

“She made it pretty obvious that she loved you before it all went to shit,” Ellie couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, eyes widening in fear as she watched his expression morph into one of pure rage.

“You don’t think I know that? She was one of the first people I started to trust during all this shit, she was the first friend I had in years! So do not sit there and act like I wasn’t aware of how Tess felt about me,” Joel pushed away from the table harshly, stumbling over to the kitchen sink.

You had been eavesdropping from around the corner, a hand pressed against your mouth to prevent the heartbroken gasp that slipped through your lips. Joel had told you about Tess, about how he’d cared about her but was too afraid to let himself just be. How they’d met Bill and Frank through the radio and had amazing lunches made by Bill. You’d wanted to make those same kinds of memories together, but you didn’t want to overshadow how much those people meant to him.

“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, and when you live in a place where people aren’t even fucking honest when they get bit, it’s a little hard to get close,” Ellie had heard the amount of people being murdered in the streets, hearing their horrified screams.

“Then why start a relationship in the first place?” Maybe it was a low blow, but Ellie hadn’t been in a serious relationship before.

“Because I did love her, but I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be,” Joel rinsed out the cup, grimacing at how much coffee he had wasted.

Joel had closed himself off for years, not willing to let anyone past the barrier that was his heart for the rest of his days. It wasn’t until Ellie had pushed him away that he’d even realized just how lonely he was. And now here you were, the wife he’d never thought he’d have after living much too long into the apocalypse. He was watching his brother and sister-in-law become the parents he once was.

“I was the reason you got stabbed, if I hadn’t run into the room when you and Tommy were arguing we’d have all gone back to Jackson and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” Ellie blamed herself for a lot of different things, but this was one of the main ones.

“Ellie-”

“No, had you not left to go and get any of the supplies you would have gone back home to be with your wife, but instead you got stabbed and had a bunch of kids making sure you didn't die on the way home,” It was a reminder of the before.

Joel had never blamed her, he’d always known there would be risks while patrolling or even going on supply runs, it just happens. The girl who’d stabbed him had come up on his right side, noticing how he didn’t react to absolutely anything until the blade dug deep. Joel wanted to yell, to get their attention so desperately, but there was someone else in the room. It was better just to just slowly bleed out and die.

“Ellie, I knew the risks of going on that run even before I got onto my horse that day, you don’t need to blame yourself,” He could see your shadow from where you were leaning against the wall that separated the living room and kitchen.

“You got stabbed, again!” Ellie was slightly hysterical, more angry with herself than anything.

“People aren’t always going to be friendly, I don’t think they even realized that the three of you were there,” He’d had nightmares of that scenario happening all over, except he wasn’t the one being stabbed.

At first it was Ellie, and then Dina, Tommy, and then finally you. He’d refused to sleep after he watched you bleed out in his arms, tears streaking down his cheeks. It didn’t matter that you were asleep next to him, head pillowed on your arms as you slept so peacefully.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” This was it, Joel was about to lay everything out on the table so there were no longer any secrets between them.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie perked up in her seat, all attention focused solely on the older man.

“Back when we weren’t talking I may have been a little reckless. I’d only kept myself alive because I wanted to make sure that you would be alright, and once you found out the truth” Joel sighed to himself, this wasn’t going to be easy.

“I didn’t care whether I lived or died anymore, Tommy would send me out on patrols and supply runs and I just got careless. I nearly got myself killed more times in those few months than I did when I was still doing runs for the QZ,” It was shameful to admit Joel hadn’t wanted to survive.

It felt like a dirty secret, he hadn’t even told you how much he hated being alive during that time, even after you’d first gotten together he kept that part of himself hidden. Maybe it was because his first attempt had been unsuccessful, and losing another kid broke him down. It took for his little niece to be born for things to finally change, his brushes with death were over.

“Your wifes really nice, she didn’t even get mad at me when I told her it was my fault you got hurt,” Ellie had been nearly inconsolable that day, crying into the fabric of your shirt.

“That’s who she is as a person, I couldn’t ask for a better life partner,” Joel twirled the ring on his finger absentmindedly.

“I’m really sorry about what I said that night, you were just being protective and I got angry because of it,” Joel knew Ellie could fight her own battles, she was stronger than everyone gave her credit for.

Joel just nodded, eyes glazed over as he stared down at the floor, memories flooding his mind as the world continued on around him. What would have happened if he’d succumbed to his injuries during that supply run? Would Ellie have blamed herself for his death the way he blamed himself for why she hated him?

“I never wanted you to have to deal with people being assholes over something like that, you deserve to be happy,” Joel had always been a supportive person, why did it matter who someone chose to spend their life with?

“Thanks,” Was it that obvious that Ellie and Dina were together? She’d kept it quiet for Jesse’s sake, even if he already knew.

“I just wanted to let you know I understand, if you don’t want to move past everything then I can’t stop you, but well, I miss you kid,” Joel could feel the way his throat was closing, choking up slightly.

Ellie threw herself out of the chair, wrapping her arms around him as he embraced her in a tight bear hug, ignoring his still healing side. It would never erase what Joel had done, or that he’d lied to her for over two years, but he wanted to work on it all.

“Tommy’s sending me out on another supply run, we won’t be as far away but I’ll be gone for a little bit,” Ellie knew Joel would worry like a mother hen, it was simply in his nature.

“Thank you for telling me,” Joel squeezed her a little bit tighter, smiling to himself.

They were going to work on their relationship one day at a time, and eventually things wouldn’t be so tense, right?

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

Ellie had been gone for a little over two weeks when the incident happened. Joel had seen everyone off, telling Ellie and Jesse to be on watch whenever they were out in the open with no easy places to hide. Ellie had promised to keep an eye on everyone and make sure no one got the upper hand. It warmed his heart how much she truly listened to him, even if he hadn’t listened to himself at times.

He’d gone to the tipsy bison to grab some dinner and a drink with Tommy so they could catch up while you and Maria were with the baby. It didn’t matter how old she was, Joel would always refer to his niece as a little baby.

“I heard you and Ellie finally made up, took you long enough,” Tommy snickered, his hair graying more on the sides as he stared at his older brother.

“We sat down and had a conversation about everything, it was a long time coming,” Joel knew he played a big part in why they’d stopped speaking, and as much as he wanted to apologize prior, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Well I think it’s great, you two were as thick as thieves before it all went down,” Tommy finished off the last of his burger, groaning as he leaned back in his seat.

Joel chuckled as he watched Tommy unbuckle his belt, he couldn’t count on one hand the amount of times he’d had to do the same whenever you cooked for him.

“We’re still working on things, but for now it’s all good,” Joel wiped his hands off before grabbing for his whiskey.

He’d be working off the carbs tomorrow during his usual shift, but for right now he was simply enjoying the meal and conversation. Maybe he’d surprise you during your own shift and take you over for lunch, that’d be fun.

“I’m gonna get back and grab the wife, I’ve gotta get up early to help with the horses tomorrow,” Joel was thankful they stopped sending him on patrols, moreso because he wanted to be around for you more.

“Tell Maria I’ll be back in a few, gonna stop by the woodmaker and see how Emily’s new bed frame is coming along,” Joel nodded to his brother before heading out.

The air was crisp and colder than he’d been expecting, even if it was in the dead of winter Joel still preferred the warmth of the summer. He could barely hear the sounds of his own boots as he made the way to Tommy and Maria’s house. It was close to where you and he were currently living which was nice. As he turned down to one of the side paths to the house an arm wrapped around his throat as someone kicked the backs of his knees until he was on the ground. The arm tightened before letting him go, watching as he slammed into the ground.

He lifted his head to see what the hell was going on before coming face to, well knee, with Seth. Shit, this was definitely going to end badly if Seth was coming after him where no one could see him.

“Thanks to you and your little cunt daughter I got put on shit duty,” Seth slammed the heel of his boot into Joel’s side, snickering as the sound of agony ripped from the older man’s throat.

“Deserve to rot in hell you fucking asshole,” The two other men took turns kicking into any space on Joel’s body they could reach.

Joel wasn’t surprised that Seth had been demoted, it happened to anyone that stepped out of line and went after someone in the commune. He held his arms over his head to try and protect himself, too weak to try and get up and fight off the attackers. The sickening crunch that echoed in the air caught Joel’s attention immediately. Blood filled his throat within seconds, cutting off any and all air flow he had.

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!” Tommy’s voice startled Seth who was ready to strike another nearly fatal blow.

“Go!” Seth turned and ran, leaving Joel’s battered body lying on the ground.

The other two men fled in different directions, too scared to be confronted by one of the “leaders” of Jackson. Joel couldn’t move, coughing blood onto the packed snow that laid beneath him. Wasn’t this just the sight to see, Joel Miller would meet his end because of some homophobic asshole.

“Shit! Someone get a doctor!” Now Tommy’s voice carried a lot of authority, and even if Joel would scoff that anyone would listen, right now he was thankful someone came to his aid.

Joel was losing consciousness slowly, eyes slipping closed as he accepted the fact he would most likely never wake up. The pain was unbearable, tearing apart his body as they got him to the infirmary as fast as they could manage. He was knocked out within minutes of arrival, the town's surgeon getting ready for what would be his riskiest procedure in years.

You had gotten worried as the minutes turned into hours, surely they wouldn’t get drunk when they were both due to be at the stables tomorrow. Maria was sitting with Emily, trying to help her eat the carrots she’d cooked. It warmed your heart to watch how much of an amazing mother that Maria was, and how caring she was. The door slammed open as Tommy ran inside, the front of his shirt covered in blood. He didn’t stop to answer any of Maria’s questions before he grabbed his gun and ran back out the door.

“You..you don’t think this has anything to do with Joel, right?” Your heart was racing, he had to be okay, he just had to be.

“I’m sure he’s okay, but if you want to go check I’ll make sure to hold down the fort,” Maria wouldn’t fault you for worrying about your husband, it was natural.

You nodded towards the other woman before fleeing the house, watching as Tommy gathered a group of people to “hunt down the bastards that hurt him”. It was, something had happened to Joel and you were just finding out. Tommy had realized you were outside, cursing to himself before walking towards you. It was as if your fight or flight kicked in as you bolted towards the infirmary, if Joel had been seriously injured this is where they’d take him.

Bursting through the door it took two different people to prevent you from finding where Joel had been taken. It was serious, if you weren’t allowed to be where he was then it was truly that serious.

“Please! What happened to him?” You were hysterical, tears sliding down your cheeks as you begged for any answer.

“It looks like he got jumped, they managed to break one of his ribs which punctured his lung, they’re doing everything they can to make sure that he’ll be okay,” You knew exactly who’d done this to him.

It was no surprise that Joel had enemies inside and outside of Jackson, no one was ever innocent in this world. Hopefully they’d find Seth and whoever else was with him and get rid of them before they could harm anyone else.

“Can I wait until he’s done? Please?” You were desperate, hoping by the grace of whoever was listening that Joel would pull through.

“Yes, someone will get you when he’s stable in a room,” The nurse patted your shoulder gently before heading back to where she was needed.

It was a painful reminder of where you were just a few short weeks prior. What would Ellie say when she got back with everyone? God, could you even handle being face to face with her knowing it was because of Seth that he was hurt again? No, there was no time to let yourself spiral while your husband was struggling to survive just a few doors down.

“Where is he?!” Ellie burst through the doors, sweat dripping down the sides of her face as she locked eyes with you.

“He’s in surgery right now, Tommy already has a group looking for the guys that assaulted him,” You hadn’t stopped crying, lip quivering as you looked back at the door that separated you and your husband.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone on that supply run, goddamnit!” Ellie was angry with herself, had she stayed behind this wouldn’t have happened.

You stood up and gently shushed the girl before pulling her into a tight embrace. It would never be Ellie’s fault that Seth was a bigot, there was nothing she could do to change his mind. The only sounds heard were your stuttered breathing and Ellie’s deep breaths. You hadn’t been aware of the two people standing in the doorway, too busy in your sorrow.

“Oh, I forgot to mention we ran into some people during the run,” Ellie pulled away from you, wiping at her eyes before she turned to face the two newcomers.

The woman looked nervous, watching the way you stood close to Ellie, the younger boy was hiding behind the woman. It would’ve been ironic had you not been worrying about Joel at that moment.

“I’m so sorry, it’s nice to meet you both,” You chuckled as you wiped away the tears, knowing you didn’t look presentable.

“Nice to meet you, Ellie actually saved us from a pack of clickers,” The girl seemed shy, though it was surprising with her stature.

“That’s because Ellie knows good people when she sees them,” You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, smiling when she leaned into you.

Tonight would be a lot more stressful knowing that Ellie was back and would also be worrying about how Joel was doing.

“Why don’t you take them over to get something to eat? Joel won’t be able to have any visitors for a while anyway,” You didn’t want to rush Ellie and the newcomers out by any means, but right now you needed to be alone with your thoughts.

“Sure, I’ll bring you something so you aren’t hungry later,” Ellie left before you could protest, the two strangers following behind her.

You plopped down in the chair you’d been occupying before, begging for anyone that was listening for Joel to pull through. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t work for two months, you’d handle everything and deal with all the annoying shit that came with it.

It was nearing four in the morning when one of the nurses came to let you know that Joel was stable and asleep in one of the rooms. You’d nearly burst into tears once more before heading off to find your husband. Joel was sleeping peacefully under the ivory sheet. There was a bag of saline hanging beside his bed, his skin paler than what you’d like to see. It looked like they cleaned him up before putting him into the room. Shit, did that mean they’d had to throw out his coat? Wow, worrying over something as trivial as a coat while your husband nearly died, real classy.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m so sorry this happened,” You bit your lip to help prevent the tears, sliding your hand into Joel’s.

His skin was warm, the calloused fingers you’d come to know and love a reminder that Joel was still here, he was still alive. The only thing that mattered in that very moment was knowing whether or not Seth got the punishment he deserved. Ellie would make sure of it if Tommy didn’t, you had no doubts. Things would go back to normal, and Joel would be back home where it was safe. Maybe you could invite the newcomers to have dinner and meet them in a more formal place.

This was a nightmare.

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kitchenscissorbangs · 20 days

Text

Magnetic - chapter one

Reincarnated as a roadman in another world?!

"This time, I want you, you, you, you, like it's magnetic"

On a seemingly normal morning, you wake to find your JoJo merch gone and run into a familiar group of weirdos. So now you have to worry about getting them home and not failing your GCSEs. Presented as a series of vignettes detailing your bizarre adventures with your new and old friends.

ao3 (prev) (masterlist) (next)

wc : 1,759

a/n: they aren’t actually roadmen but you get it

Waking up at 6:50 to catch the 7:30 bus is never a good idea. Especially not if you stayed up so late it feels like someone is hitting your head with a hammer. But who really cares? It had been Y/N’s routine since year 8 and it was too late to change. She did consistently arrive 30 minutes early to school so maybe whatever she did worked. School… Some part of her wondered how St Daniella’s school (or STDs as the students referred to it) kept its status as a top 50 private school. Many of the classrooms in the older buildings were being held together with duct tape and the school had gone through six heads in less than a decade. It really was a sinking ship.

With a long sigh, the girl got out of bed. You had already missed the first week of school after spending all summer with her grandparents abroad and you couldn’t miss anymore . Though she mostly hung out alone in the room she shared with her brother… Sure she had friends but she had found out that her phone was the best company.

After going about the rest of her morning as usual and skipping the skincare routine she promised herself she’d do everyday to look like her bias, she threw on your uniform. Her trousers were fraying and she desperately needed a skirt after baking in last year's heat. She shrugged and decided she would worry about that in summer. While the girl was changing, she noticed something odd. The copious amounts of JoJo merch she dedicated her life to collecting had seemingly disappeared overnight. Even stranger, it had all been replaced with a mix of csm and jjk merch. At first, Y/N suspected her mother had finally lost it and threw out all her merch, but then why would it be replaced? The fact bugged her. She must be dreaming.

The fact gnawed at her thoughts as she made her way to the station, with the sound of kpop blaring in her ears. It wasn't until a voice interrupted her thoughts that she snapped back to reality.

“‘Scuse me lady but ummm, d’ya where we’re meant to be going” spoke a boy with strawberry blond hair which ,by the looks of it, he spent a lot longer styling then the now very ticked off teenage girl. He had a thick southern accent and was wearing the same ugly green uniform as the girl.

The girl pulled down her headphones. “To school..” Y/N replied with boredom lacing her voice. Like most people, she was not interested in entertaining some clueless American at 7:25 am.

“Yeah but where is tha-” he was cut off by another boy pushing him aside. Boy 2 was taller than boy 1 by about an inch. He also had blond hair but a golden shade. Boy 2 was also wearing the same school uniform.

“I’ll take care of this, you idiot . Miss it’s our first day of school and noticed that we’re the same uniform as you so we thought that you could help us?” Boy 2 had a smooth accent not too dissimilar to Y/N’s.

“Use google maps or something I dunno,” Y/N replied growing even more agitated. Both boys shared a confused look. As they stared at Y/N in joint perplexity, she noticed that both boys shared an eye colour reminiscent of the lanky man with white hair who stood on her windowsill instead of her precious Giorno figure.

“Santa Maria, both of you are helpless. That’s not how you talk to pretty girl.” You guessed it, another even taller blond boy said to the two boys. He turned the teenager, who was currently debating how an anime character look alike could find her pretty. “Hey bella, wanna see something cool?”

“Go ahead. As long as it's not your penis though,” Y/N said. Boy 3 gave her an amused look and then dug around in the deep pockets of his Superdry coat for something. ‘So he’s gonna show me a dumb vape trick’ Y/N mused to herself. Nothing could have prepared her for what boy 3 did next.

He had pulled out a green steel ball not unlike the weapon of a certain Italian jockey. Boy 3 spun on his finger then threw it at the hedge near the bus stop. The ball trimmed off most of the branches before returning to him. The other six people at the stop didn’t even seem to notice. Y/N however seemed to have her whole reality flipped on it's head.

Y/N gave him a slow clap with a false sense of composure. She was either dreaming or had finally lost it. Her post-pandemic JoJo phase had driven her crazy. She was hallucinating anime characters or seeing them in her dreams. It was hard to decide which one was worse.

“That’s great Gyro Zeppeli. Now can I wait for my bus in peace?” Y/N responded sarcastically. The three boys’ jaws fell slack.

“How’d’ya know his name lady? Who the fuck are ya? You’re not working with Valentine are ya?” boy 1 lunged forward and grabbed the girl’s shoulders with enough intensity to confirm whatever was going was real and leave a nasty mark. He seemed the most distressed out of the group. Recalling the manga she had spent many a night reading and re-reading, the group did look strangely familiar.

“Hold on a second. You’re Johnny Joestar,” Y/N turned to boy 2. “And that’s Diego Brando. What the fuck is going on?” They both nodded as the girl said their names.

“We don’t know either. We were chatting at one of the checkpoints and then there was a loud bang. Next thing I know I’m in some futuristic city and I’m 5 years younger and Joestar can walk again and I’m wearing a hideous green uniform” Diego concluded with a frustrated scoff. He had turned his gaze away from the girl and now started down at his uniform with a look of disdain. Y/N couldn’t help but relate.

“At least the blazer’s not mandatory,” the h/c girl sighed.

Gyro gasped. “Wait a moment. HP was there too. Where is he?”

The trio of disorientated jockeys started murmuring among themselves while occasionally glancing back at the teenage girl. She was just happy that they left her alone. She glanced up at the bus times. Still another 4 minutes. ‘How the fuck did this happen?’ the girl thought to herself. Y/N's mind immediately jumped to the cast of SBR. Maybe it was the surreal feeling from seeing the Gyro use the spin with such precision or the way Johnny introduced himself, but it felt like she was living out a scene from her post-pandemic JoJo phase. She half expected Valentine to crawl out a bush or find a corpse part in her bag.

“That fat slag! I’m gonna kill the bitch the second I see her!” Y/N jumped. The yelling of a fellow teenage girl yanked her out her thoughts. Those words sound like they were being screamed down her ears. Y/N whipped her head around. No-one new had come by. Though there was another teenager across the road yelling into her phone… Y/N couldn’t have heard that… She shook her head.

A shiver ran down the girls back as though something had touched her. There had to be something there. "I didn't get the job. I don't know if I can keep going like this." Another voice spoke. This time a man. Something had to be going on.

“Are you OK, miss?” Johnny asked the girl with a flash of concern in his eyes. As he rest a gentle hand on Y/N's shoulder, she realised that e wasn’t that much taller than her.

“Y/N. That’s my name. Y/N L/N”

“Pleased ta meetcha.” He stuck his hand out. “Name’s Johnny Joestar. But ya already knew that…” He added with an awkward chuckle. For some reason, Y/N found this kind of… cute.

“Oh umm… The bus is nearly here. D’ya have a zip card?”

“A what?”

“One of these.” The three boys looked at Y/N while she dug around for her wallet. She then gestured to the green photo card. The boys did the same before wordlessly getting on the bus with the girl and copying whatever she did.

The group sat in the four seats in the back facing each other.

She found herself caught in the middle of an unexpected and bizarre situation, surrounded by the boys who were bickering and bantering. While they seemed to occupy themselves in their own company, Y/N found time to text Louis some of the situation.

Pookie

You: Pookie guess what?

Pookie: what..?

You: I’m surrounded by teenage boys on the bus

Pookie: are they gorgjoes

You: *gorgeous And yes, they don’t smell like toes—

Pookie: That’s what matters most, right?

Pookie: I love toes

read 07:39

“Flattered you think that Y/N but what is that? And who’s that?” Diego pointed to your phone and the photocard.

“It’s a phone. You use it to call and send text messages. The guy is Yeonjun. He’s a singer ”

“Cara, what’s that around your neck?”

“These are headphones. You can listen to stuff on them” Y/N unpaused the song and gave the headphones to Gyro.

“What kind of witchcraft is this?”

“Bluetooth”

“Gyro, give me a turn!”

“Just wait Johnny, Jesus.”

“It’s not that deep, just give it to him."

“Fine. But only ‘cause a pretty girl asked me to.”

“Idiots.”

“So you don’t want a turn Dio?”

“Not what I said Joestar.”

The boys quickly began squabbling among themselves while the girl laughed. Y/N snapped a photo of the boys for Louis.

Pookie

You: >delivered

Omg

sent 7:43am

“Can I have my headphones back?”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Diego took them off and handed them back to the girl. "So about before. How'd you know our names?"

Y/N sighed. She hoping this conversation wouldn't happen. The thought of everything being fake would probably give them an existential crisis so it was best to save this for later. "Lucky guess."

He gave the girl a questioning look. Fortunately for her, the boys had found their own phones and somehow knew the passwords. She didn't really question it as she put back on her headphones and let herself be drowned in the music.

a/n : i think i made the song reference for the readers stand too obvious. the fic was originally meant to be called who really cares but that didn’t match the vibe and the photocard was meant to be felix but his toes deterred me from that idea

taglist: @lv11sawrr open if you’re interested

#anime #jojo no kimyou na bouken #diego brando #diego brando x reader #gyro zeppeli x reader #gyro zeppeli #johnny joestar x reader #johnny joestar #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo x reader

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yelenasdiary · 1 year

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Heyy! Could I request for the Advent Calendar Natasha Romanoff x reader where it's reader's first Christmas at the compound with the team and reader doesn't know what to give them. Reader asks Natasha cause she needs help for Christmas presents for the team. Thanks! Love your stories

☃️ Romanoff's List ☃️

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha helps you buy gifts for the team.

Fluff | 0.8K | No Warnings |

AC: Once again, I am here with crappy gift ideas lmao! I hope you enjoy this!!

Day 11 | Advent Calendar Masterlist 🎄

"Agh! It's impossible!" You groaned while Natasha was getting ready for bed, "what is?" she asked, pulling her pj bottoms up, "What the hell do I buy the team for Christmas?!" you looked to her, "Besides Wanda, Thor and Scott, I have no idea what the hell to get the others" you explained while looking down at your notes on the small notepad you had written everybody's name on.

"Just get them whatever you think they'll like" Nat suggested as she made herself comfortable in bed, looking over at you as you chewed the end of your black pen. "Nooo" you sighed, "I want to make sure I get everybody something they'll all love and enjoy" you added. Natasha reached over and grabbed your notepad and gently took the pen from your lips, "it's work it out in the morning" she spoke, "We'll go to the mall and look around, okay?" she smiles before placing the notepad and pen on the bedside table.

"But Natty" you pouted, "no buts, baby" Natasha turned over and pulled you into her arms causing you to giggle at her actions when she started to playfully tickle you, "Fine, you win!" you said in laughter only then did the blonde stop and pulled you closer to her. "What am I going to do with you huh? My little stressing love bug" she whispered as she placed a kiss on your check before nuzzling gently into the back of your neck. "Did I just hear that correctly? The big, tough, black widow call me love bug?" You teased, "Tell anybody and that'll be the last thing you do" Natasha joked.

After breakfast and a sneaky shower together and you were both ready to hit the mall. You knew how much Natasha hated the mall, so you opted to make it a quick trip and not drag her around to every shop. You had your list of names to tick off, making sure you didn't miss anybody and of course, Natasha was quick to lock hands with you as you walked through the mall. "Are you going to help with this or are you just going to let me question everything?" you asked Natasha with a playful smirk, "Seriously baby, if you find something and you think that person will love it, get it. It's not about the gift, it's the thought. That's what you told me when we had our first Christmas together" Nat replied, kissing your cheek.

Store after store and you still couldn't find anything for the others. You managed to tick Wanda, Thor and Scott off your list as expected. Getting Wanda, a gift pack of the candles she loves so much, anytime you visited her room, all you could smell was one of her candles burning. Scott was easy, anything witty and stupid and he'd find a laugh in it so getting him the 'True Bonny Boy Liquor Dispenser' would get more than enough laughs out of him on Christmas Day. For Thor, it was super easy, anything and very thing was interesting to him and given that he'd recently been playing video games you thought why not buy him a controller holder of himself.

Natasha shook her head when you proudly showed off the gift you had got Scott, "he'll love it!" you chuckled, "I think he's going to love it a little too much" Natasha cocked a brow, "now, for the others, what do you have in mind?" she asked.

"Well, Vision I thought maybe some books, cooking books to be exact"

Natasha chuckled and agreed, "I think Wanda would appreciate that more than Vision"

While sitting in the food court for lunch, you ran through some other ideas you had for Maria, Carol, Peter and Steve but the others you were too stuck on. Natasha threw a few ideas at you and eventually the two of you came up with the perfect little ideas for gifts.

----

Sitting around the Christmas tree at the compound, you were sitting on Natasha's lap as she rubbed your back gently, something she always did to remind you she was still here even though you could clearly see her. You all let the kids open their gifts first, watching them throw wrapping paper everywhere was fun to watch but seeing the look on their faces at their new toys was something you enjoyed the most. After the kids had opened their gifts and took them out back to play, Tony started handing out gifts from him, Pepper and Morgan.

When it was your turn to hand out the gifts from you and Natasha you were just excited to see the look on their faces, Christmas wasn't about gifts, but you couldn't lie and say that giving gifts wasn't one of your favorite things to do over the holidays. As expected, Scott loved his gift and couldn't stop laughing about it and at dinner was proud to walk around offering people a drink when the kids weren't looking.

"I told you they would love it all" Natasha whispered while you two we cuddled up on the sofa with a blanket watching a family movie to get the kids to sleep, not your usual idea of family but you wouldn't change any of them for the world, "Merry Christmas, Natty" you smiled, "I have a surprise for you, later" you whispered.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #fanfiction #christmas

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pariskim · 11 days

Note

monster & fear about miss maria pleaaase :3

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

OHHH YOU KNOW ITTTT. maria is a genuinely fucked person shes a true mad scientist and its a complicated truth of how they live. she doesnt like being cruel but she is goddamn good at it. they live in a world where they need to make sacrifices for the greater good and its encouraged when she goes so. i do think her capacity for violence scares her but she hesitantly accepts it into her life because, well, its her job to do so and shes not willing to get disposed of. she does the dirty work begrudgingly as if its better than being a soldier when its probably something worse what she does. shes one of thw few willing to do the shit she does and shes both proud of being non disposable and incredibly wracked with guilt over it

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

REALLY fun question for her because i think shes really motivated by fear. i mean iggy and mary live in a world where literal monsters break through buildings so theres some level of fear thats understandable, but she kind of tips the iceberg into girl PLEASE take a xanax. she is constantly on edge and drinking coffee and stained clothing. i think really shes scared of failure and the costs of her doing so. she has very few people she Truly Cares about outside of her im better than you and youre civilians im just working with brainmode and she cannot handle the idea of something really happening to them because she Will blame herself if it happened. i think losing iggy as a kid was what first prompted her into medical work which over time corrupted into something more dangerous so the idea of losing him again is like a ticking bomb in her head that if it went off would probably kill her or prompt her to do something truly FUCKED. she pretends she isn't scared of anything, but if that was true she would've left her job a long time ago

#HEHE ILY #asks #chip #maria enzyme & iggy haptic

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trulybetty · 10 months

Text

Gold Rush | Chapter Five

Pairings: Joel x OFC Warnings: Angst, guilt, seeking forgiveness, alludes to depression and suicide without being explicit. Summary: Old lovers Joel and Charlotte find themselves unexpectedly reunited in the community of Jackson. Struggling to navigate the complexities of their shared history and the harsh realities of their new lives, the pair find themselves again drawn to one another. AO3: Link

Chapter 5

"Perhaps forgiveness is the quality I admire most in humanity.Because it's a grace that seeks us when we don't deserve it,embraces us when we least expect it,and frees us when we believe we're beyond redemption."- Unknown

Charlotte was laid across her sofa in the living room, wrapped in a barely-hanging-on blanket. She had fallen asleep there the night before, her plans to get an early start that morning forgotten amidst the exhaustion. The sound of the knocking of her front door jarred her awake, and with a groan of protest she pulled herself off the sofa and to the door.

Opening the front door she sighed when Tommy appeared on the other side. Charlotte leaned against the door frame as she tried to close the now open door.

"Jesus Tommy, it's too early for this shit." she stated, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Charlotte, please." He put his foot in the jam of the door stopping it from closing. "Can we talk?"

Charlotte's weary eyes were filled with the image of Maria, who had begged her to give Tommy a chance. Charlotte wanted to hate him for everything that had happened, she missed him just as much. It was confusing and overwhelming, and she still wasn't sure if she could find it within herself to forgive him, but she'd give the opportunity to speak finally.

"No promises," Charlotte grumbled, but she stepped back from the door, allowing Tommy to enter. She padded back to the living room on bare feet, leaving Tommy to close the door behind him. It was an unspoken gesture of trust, allowing him into her space, even as the tension between them hung heavy in the air.

Tommy hesitated in the entryway to the living room, uncertainty flickering across his face as he watched Charlotte resume her position on the sofa. She didn't invite him to sit, didn't even look at him. The usual warmth that radiated from Charlotte was noticeably absent, replaced with a cold detachment that felt foreign. But he understood; he had hurt her, broken her trust when he had sworn to her all those years ago he would take care of it.

"Charlie," Tommy began, choosing his words carefully. "I... I owe you an apology. I was wrong, and... and I'm, I don't know how I can tell you how sorry I really am."

Charlotte remained silent, picking at a loose thread on the hem of her shirt as she listened. Her expression was unreadable, a mask that effectively hid the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. The silence stretched on, a palpable tension building in the room as Charlotte mulled over Tommy's words.

"I don't expect forgiveness," Tommy continued, the weight of his guilt pressing heavily on his shoulders. "But I needed you to know that... that I am sorry."

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was only the steady tick of the clock to break the silence. It was then that Charlotte looked up at Tommy, her brown eyes meeting his with a hard, calculating gaze. She was quiet for a moment, considering him, before she finally spoke.

"I'm willing to listen," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.

Tommy nodded, grateful for even that small concession. The road to rebuilding their friendship would be a tightrope, but Charlotte had given him a chance, and that was more than he could have hoped for

"That's all I'm asking," Tommy said, his tone sincere. "Just to listen."

Tommy once believed that the worst thing he’d ever have to apologize to Charlotte for was his behaviour when she and Joel first became a couple. His behaviour borderline obscene hiding the fear of possibly losing his brother, his father figure, to this woman who had come in and stolen his brother's heart. He also remembered the multiple times he drunkenly got himself locked up for public intoxication. There were more than a few nights when Charlotte had to navigate legal jargon with the sheriff to secure his release, followed by his hungover apologies the next morning, promising to repay Joel and Charlotte for the cost of his bail money.

He tried to push back the memory of the night of Joel's birthday twenty years ago. The whispers of guilt at his ear threatened to pull inky black tide of self-recrimination over him. The 'what ifs' never really went away; he just got better at ignoring them. But now, looking at Charlotte, her elbows propped on her knees, her head in her hands, and a shell of the woman he'd known for the better part of a quarter century, he couldn't help but wonder.

Wonder if he hadn't turned Joel's invitation to come home with him for a drink.

Wonder if he hadn't taken that swing that night at the bar.

Wonder if he hadn't mouthed off at the cop who had been called to the bar.

Wonder if he hadn't called Joel late at night, begging for bail money and Charlotte's legalese to get him out of the county jail to avoid being stuck there for the weekend.

Because if any of that hadn't happened he was sure, no convinced, Sarah would still be with them. The catalyst to everything that happened to the three of them after the outbreak. There were nights still, in the echoes of his dreams that he heard the gunshot that killed Sarah and the gunshot that almost took Joel. If he was asked he could still name both of the guns that pulled each bullet, his military background had seen to that piece of persistent memory. The guttural roar that he didn't know Joel possessed, as he rocked Sarah pleading with whatever entity that would listen to ward off death with his cries and shouts for his daughter to just stay with him. The haunting screams of Joel's name off of Charlotte's lips, watching her scramble to find purchase on her feet as the sound of the gunshot echoed off of the walls of the house they'd barricaded themselves in rang out.

Because after all, in Tommy's mind, if he had simply come home with Joel that night they'd have all been together. Would have heard the news stories earlier, wouldn't have left Sarah alone and they all would have had a head start in getting out of Town. Charlotte would have her Joel, they'd be happy just like they had been, her the sun to Joel's moon.

Most of all, they'd have had Sarah.

Guilt tightened its knot in his stomach threatening the bile in his stomach to rise up as the nausea filled him with a sickening remorse. Those in Jackson knew Charlotte as a happy and situated member of the council, willing to help where she could and a bright light to distract from the terror that lay outside their walls. Tommy wished he had that luxury, he knew the real Charlotte and saw that brightness never reached her eyes, that her role on the council and need to help everyone and all was to keep her hands busy, keep her distracted.

Tommy shuffled into the room, he paused at the ratty green couch where Charlotte sat. Taking a deep breath he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and folded himself into the surprising plushness, of the decades old couch.

"I didn't know when I left Boston if I was ever going to see you or Joel ever again. Then one night, there's this mass panic of raiders and we still hadn't finished the north wall and it was all hands on deck. Then there was Maria saying there was a woman who'd convinced Marcus to bring her back to the settlement, that they'd placed her in the banks lock up,"

Charlotte remembered that night, one of many committed to memory whether she liked it or not. Her journey west with the Fireflies was hard and taxing. Not all the Fireflies were as ideologically driven as Tommy, and as the months wore on, their ranks started to thin out.

Disputes broke out over rations, routes, and their final destination, causing division and unrest among them. Eventually, the large group she had started with was reduced to just three - Charlotte, and two men, Alec and Justin. Despite the circumstances, they formed a tight bond.

They walked through vast, deserted landscapes, remnants of the old world now overridden by nature. They avoided Infected and hostile humans alike, knowing that their small group wouldn't stand a chance against a larger, more prepared force. And then, they stumbled upon a patrol group from Jackson. They hadn't known it at first. They thought they had run into another group of survivors, maybe traders or just folks trying to eke out a living in the post-outbreak world.

But when the group from Jackson took them for raiders, all hell broke loose. Alec and Justin were shot on sight as they reached for their weapons. Charlotte, witnessing the quick and brutal deaths, her last companions, knew she had no other choice. She had already thrown her weapon and raised her hands. Using the quick wit and charm that had gotten her through so many parlous situations in the past, managed to convince them to take her captive.

When they reached Jackson, Charlotte had been in disbelief. It wasn't the ramshackle collection of survivors she had been expecting. It was a town, a community trying to build something more than just survival.

"Maria had brought Marcus to me, getting him to repeat what you had told him." Tommy looked to Charlotte, she had now sat up, her hands folded on her lap. "That you were just trying to go west to find your brother in law, that you'd left from Boston and were no threat to anyone."

"I remember tearing into the bank, I needed to know if it was you, and there you were - our Charlie."

Without missing a beat, Tommy had pushed through the now open cell door and pulled Charlotte into a tight embrace. They clung to each other, Charlotte sobbing uncontrollably. Two lost souls finally finding a piece of their shared past. Their reunion was marked by tears, laughter, and a heart-wrenching sense of longing for what had been lost.

For Charlotte, seeing Tommy alive, there, in this new place, it was like finding a piece of home.

A piece of Joel.

And it had been more than she could have hoped for.

He looked at her now, his eyes filled with more remorse at what had come next, "Maria, and the council, already had been firm that Jackson would stay off the grid. We stayed within the walls of the commune only leaving for supplies and patrols, and we didn't use the radio. If wanted to stay alive we stayed quiet." Tommy sniffed, "But I didn't listen. You were there, you who were supposed to be in Boston and I needed more than ever to know if Joel was okay. It took a couple of days, but I got a message back, he was okay and that was that."

He ran a tired hand over his face, feeling the weight of the confession he was about to make. "I wanted to tell him you were there, and I was going to when I finally got him on the radio myself. He spoke first, and I kept waiting for him to ask if you had made it to me, but it never came, and..." he trailed off, swallowing the hesitation in his words. "I remembered all those nights in Boston, the arguments you thought I didn't hear, the way he treated you in his grief that we both knew he had no way of getting out from under. All that you told me those first nights after you arrived, how completely shattered you were, and I just... I thought I was protecting you. I thought that I could help you move forward."

"I should've told you, I had so many chances to do so, but it was easier to push it off to the next time," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "But I didn't know how. I was a coward."

Charlotte studied him for a moment, despite there being barely a year between them, Charlotte being the older of two, throughout their entire friendship she had always felt much older due to her protectiveness of the youngest Miller. She supposed it was because he was Joel's younger brother and she adopted the role through him. Charlotte had had no younger siblings, and Tommy was the younger brother she never had.

But looking at him now, she saw that he had matured in ways she hadn't realized. He had assumed the role that Joel once held, taking care of her and providing guidance. He'd made sure Charlotte was taken care of and helped her continue her marksmanship tutorials. He taught her hand to hand combat that the military had taught him and brought Marcus in to assist. He had become a pillar of support without adopting Joel's domineering 'I know best' approach. Tommy had learned from the consequences of that behavior, even though he found himself inadvertently mirroring it now with her.

Her gaze softened, and Tommy felt the release of breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I was afraid," Tommy confessed, his voice barely audible. "Afraid of what you would think... of what you would feel. I didn't want to pile on more pain, more hurt on you."

"And yet, that's exactly what you ended up doing," Charlotte replied, her tone not harsh but matter-of-fact

He pulled his hands from his pockets, feeling suffocated all of a sudden. "I still should've told you. I had no right to make that decision for you."

Charlotte sank deeper into the worn cushions of the sofa, her arms crossed over her chest. "No, you didn't," she affirmed, her voice a soft murmur in the room.

"I left Boston..." she began, her voice faltering as she stumbled over the memories. Her arms tightened around herself, as if physically holding herself together. "I left because it felt like there was nothing left there for me. Marlene had sold me out, Joel was - well, Joel. Everything was crashing down on me; it was like everything from that moment since that night all started just caught up with me. What was there left for me to do?"

She paused, a ghost of a smile twisting her lips. "Marlene handpicked a group to tail your crew... I honestly didn't think I'd even make it to Pittsburgh. The odds were against us from the start."

She let out a humorless chuckle, more to herself than for Tommy's benefit. "You know the funny thing? I think I was almost at peace with that. With the thought of just... not making it," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper, a raw admission of how close she was to giving up back then.

He took a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat, before finally managing to speak. "Charlotte...I..."

"I know it's not what you want to hear. But it's the truth," she said, her voice eerily calm. "I was at the end of my rope. I didn't care if I lived or died. And maybe... maybe part of me even wanted to die."

A heavy silence fell between them, the air thick with unspoken words and regrets.

"I didn't know," Tommy finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't know it had gotten that bad."

Charlotte shrugged, a small, humorless laugh escaping her. "No one did. Because I didn't want you to know. What good would it have done?" she gave Tommy a wry smile, "we've all just been trying to do the best we can to survive, and that was my way of doing so. It all just caught up with me in the end."

The silence stretching out between them was broken by Tommy. "I'm glad you made it."

Charlotte glanced down at Tommy's hands, the rhythmic tap, tap, tapping of his fingers a poignant reminder of Joel's habit. She sighed, and when she spoke again, her voice was steady.

"Yeah, me too."

"I'm truly sorry, Charlotte," he said, his voice shaky with the depth of his regret. "I just hope... hope that you can forgive me someday."

Charlotte raised a hand to stem the flow of words; he didn't need to say any more. Reclining back onto the sofa, she gazed up at the ceiling, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. Her voice wavered on the precipice of tears, echoing the turmoil that had been looping inside her head for the past two months. She voiced the thoughts that had kept her awake at night, the fears that had gnawed at her over the last two months.

“It's alright, Tommy," she exhaled, her words punctuated by an undercurrent of sorrow. "Somedays I almost wish you had mentioned those messages. That it might have given me an opportunity to confront him with the reality of his actions."

Charlotte pursed her lips as she shook her head, "But perhaps, maybe it's a good thing you didn't. Because I think... I think it could have just pushed me over the edge. Partly because of his indifference, but mostly because... if something were to have happened to him..." Her voice caught in her throat, and the words hung thickly in the air. "What could I have done? Nothing... And that, that feeling of helplessness might hurt more than anything else."

Charlotte was silent for a moment, her eyes thoughtful as she processed everything. She finally sighed, a weary but understanding look on her face.

"Honestly, Tommy, I don't know how to feel about all of this right now," she said gently. "But I'm willing to try and move past it."

"Yeah?" Tommy felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. A gentle smile grazed his lips as he gave Charlotte a single, reassuring nod. "One day at a time."

"No more secrets, Tommy." Charlotte sniffed, "If we're going to move forward, we have to do it honestly."

"No more secrets," he vowed solemnly.

---

The crowded woodland was starting to thin out, the early afternoon sun was warm and the open expanse in the distance as the last icy remnants of spring were giving away to the coming summer months. Through a clearing the open expanse of land they needed to cross before they would reach the gates of Jackson came into sight.

Even as the rustic buildings of Jackson started to form on the horizon, Joel's mind was elsewhere. The wide open spaces of Wyoming did little to distract him from the turmoil inside his head. Each step forward felt heavier than the last, even though they were bringing them closer to a new life. A promise of something resembling stability, but for Joel it was akin to walking back into a storm he'd been avoiding for far too long.

His decision to save Ellie from the Fireflies had been instinctual, the father in him acting without hesitation. But the lie he'd told her in the aftermath had been a choice, a deliberate action meant to protect her. The weight of that lie felt heavier with each passing mile, a reminder of the lengths he would go to keep Ellie safe.

But Ellie wasn't the only ghost haunting him. As they drew nearer to Jackson, the specter of Charlotte loomed larger in his thoughts. She was an echo of a past he'd done his best to bury, a wound that had scabbed over but never quite healed. The thought of seeing her again stirred a mix of dread and longing in his chest. Charlotte had left him in Boston, a decision that had shaken Joel to his foundations. He'd told himself time and time again that he didn't care, that her leaving was just another casualty in a world filled with them. But that lie, much like the one he'd told Ellie, had done little to dull the pain.

Much like he had done with Ellie on the subject of Tess, he had said the same to Tess, do not bring up Charlotte. Ever.

Tess had rained down question after question to Joel, on the morning after Charlotte's departure of the QZ, she and Joel had argued fiercely. They'd had a deal with Miguel 'Santiago' that needed Charlotte's presence or it wasn't going to happen. He ran the Spanish Quarter, the hub of the Latino community that took over a large part of the northern end of the Boston QZ. They were notorious equally for taking care of their own and their fought over "Sabor de Fuego", moonshine. Charlotte had managed to fall into the enigmatic man's favour inadvertently building a steady lucrative business for Tess and Joel.

With Charlotte now gone, so was their tie to the elusive quarter. Overnight the crew that had taken over the corner of Stillman and Cross were gone, like they'd never been there at all. Not much too dissimilar to Charlotte from Joel's lips.

His past was clawing its way back into the present. The man he had become in the absence of Charlotte was a mere shadow of his former self, fading in and out of existence like a half-remembered dream. His feelings for her, the ones he had buried deep within the pits of his heart, had began to unravel in a tortuous, slow burn since the moment he'd laid eyes on her back in December. The guilt of his inaction, the regret of his harsh words, the sorrow of losing her – they were feelings he couldn’t outrun, not anymore.

But Joel was a man built on resilience and endurance. He understood the weight of the past, how it could both anchor and set a man adrift. He knew that to find peace, he had to face those realities he had long shunned. Joel carried his past, his guilt, his unresolved feelings for Charlotte, not as a burden but as a reminder of the man he was and the man he wanted to be. He recognized the truth, as painful as it was: reconciliation started with confrontation.

As the walls of Jackson loomed in the distance, a sense of finality washed over him. Returning would not just mean facing the past; it would mean understanding it, accepting it, and learning to navigate the heavy waves of regret and guilt. It would mean coming to terms with the fact that his past actions had irreversible consequences, that he was as much a victim of his own decisions as he was a survivor of a world gone awry.

Beside him, Ellie trudged along, her youthful face mirroring his own inner turmoil. The sun glinted off her hair, painting her in a warm glow. Yet, her silence was deafening. She too was stepping into a world unknown, an uncertain future, and a part of him wished he could shield her from the truths that lay ahead.

He had lied to her, woven a tale to protect her from the harsh reality. But he knew Ellie saw through his facade, the cracks in his story. She was perceptive, far too perceptive to wholeheartedly believe his words.

He wanted to reach out to her, to offer comfort and reassurance, but the weight of his deceit held him back. How could he explain the tangled web of choices he had made, the lives he had impacted, all in the name of protecting her? The fireflies, Marlene, the desperate fight for a cure—they were all pieces of a puzzle that he couldn't bring himself to assemble for her.

Joel grappled with the conflict within him, torn between his desire to shield Ellie from pain and his longing for her to understand the complicated choices he had made. But he couldn't find the words to bridge the divide between them that had come as a result of his lie.

As they neared the town, the aroma of freshly cut wood, livestock and the the faint whisper of a cool breeze carrying the scent of the nearby river mingled, grounding Joel back into the present. He took a deep breath, his gaze flitting between the familiar structures and the gates ahead. This was a turning point, the threshold to a new life promising some semblance of peace and stability.

"Think they'll give us the same place?" Ellie finally broke the silence, her voice soft and tentative, pulling Joel from his thoughts.

"Maybe," Joel replied after a moment of consideration. "Don't see why not."

There was a long pause as they continued to move forward, the town drawing ever closer. The familiar structures of Jackson were now clear against the afternoon sky, the outlines sharp and real.

Ellie broke the silence again, her voice barely audible against the rustling of the wind. "I've never really had a home...outside of the school, I mean. This...it's different."

Joel glanced at her, a wave of sympathy washing over him. He knew all too well the unsettling feeling of trying to create a home amidst chaos. "It'll take some time, Ellie," he said quietly, "But it can be home, if you want it to be."

Jackson was a chance for a new beginning, an opportunity to mend the broken threads of their pasts and weave a new narrative for themselves. Joel had seen a significant shift within himself through his journey with Ellie, a warmth had rekindled inside him, a softness had returned that he thought was lost forever. Ellie had become more than just a reluctant task or mere cargo; she had somehow filled a void in his heart, a place where he hadn't dared to let anyone in since Sarah. The thought of losing her was unbearable; hence he had chosen her life over a gamble at a cure. Joel only hoped now, as they tried to settle into a semblance of normalcy in Jackson, that the echo of the lie he had told her, a lie that kept her alive, wouldn't shatter this newfound peace and the familial bond they had formed on their hellish journey.

#gold rush #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x oc #joel miller/ofc #joel miller/oc #joel miller x no age gap #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #hbo the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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ferraricatt · 4 months

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Rotten Teeth pt3

She takes her shoes off, kicking them to the side as she takes a nostalgic sigh. Not the kind that was irritated but like she had missed being at my house. I don’t know what she sees in it though. It’s nothing more than shelter. The only personality within is the couch and fireplace.

“God, It’s so dusty in here - Esfir why don’t you ever take the time to just thoroughly clean the house?” Elisei put a goodie bag of chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen counter.

“You can clean it then if it’s ticking you off.”

I roll my eyes, grievances after another. Elisei puffs her cheeks; Hand on her hips before lunging at my couch.

The couch is leather, Brown with some permanent scratches on it. The scratches were from me because I liked to make designs on them, I stopped shortly after my father made me sleep outside in the cold so I would learn a lesson. Unlike Elisei I find that couch discomforting; A touch of irritating piece of leather.

“I worked hard on those cookies, You should try it!”

Hesitantly I steer my direction to that sorrow pity gift of cookies.

“Will I get poisoned?” I ask jokingly.

“Maybe.”

“You only live once.”

I unravel the clear plastic bag, She used a cheap ribbon bow to tie it all up together. This felt sadder by the minute.

Step by step I grab a cookie with one hand - Then I took a bite of it.

“it’s hard.” I say trying to finish my mid-bite of the stale cookie.

“It’s a cookie.” She responds snarky as ever. Distracted by her fingers, she plays with them. Cracking her knuckles and other such gestures. I set the cookie aside, on the counter, Before walking up to her and sitting at the end of the couch; Using the arm rest to lay my head on my head.

“I wanted to do more than apologizing, y’know.” I perk my head, What does she mean by that? Slowly I look at her, an eyebrow raised.

“Elaborate.”

Elisei sighed, sitting up with a somber look to her face. “Well, I mean,” We both make eye contact. Interlocking expressions to each other.

“Hear about that debate girl from Mr. Semenov?”

“Uhh..Don’t remind me who…” My head searches for names in his class. Debate club? Couldn’t be majority of the girls in that class, most of them do sports or fine arts.

It hits me, I snap my finger. “Oh-“

“Maria!”

“Yeah, What about her?”

Elisei shifts on the couch, Uncomfortably.

“Did she move schools?”

Elisei shakes her head no.

“Pregnant?”

“God, no!” Elisei scrunched her face, sticking her tongue out. “I can’t even imagine her getting pregnant. She’s the most conservative person out there!”

“Then what is it Elisei?”

“She’s dead.” The mood swiftly changed, The atmosphere having to recollect itself bit by bit. That feeling deep down in your stomach, It just drops. Part of yourself can’t believe, the other finds it so unlikely to happen.

“Wait - What do you mean dead?” Elisei’s eyes widened, hopping off the couch and grabbing her bag. A huff escaping her lips as she scrolled through her bag. Elisei grabbed a rolled up paper; The schools newspaper. I never bother to read it.

She passed it to me, On the page lied headers bolded. Every image black and white. Right beyond the headlines however was the biggest one of them all, In the direct middle:

Local High Schooler found dead in School Dumpster!: Maria Agafonov!

Chills ignited down my spine. I never really knew her that well. But the thought of seeing that school dumpster, Bearing the thought a student was bundled in there. Dead. What the hell…

“What-“

Elisei grabbed the paper back, staring at the present photo of Maria’s yearbook photo from last year. She had black hair, slicked back into a bun. Maria always wore pale lipstick and in that photo it’s like you can barely see her lips.

“That’s shocking.”

“Wait, Why didn’t they cancel school today? When was this?”

“Just yesterday, The paper was published today. This afternoon.” Elisei tries to change the mood. “They also have uh, Cookie recipes on there if my cooking still sucks.”

“Not now Elisei, Bad timing.” I rub my temples with two fingers on each hand. Looking down at the ground. I didn’t know her well and quite frankly I don’t cry when it comes to these things.

“But why didn’t they cancel school?” That question stay still in my head.

“The schools looking into it, I guess they just didn’t want to get the news out.”

“Fair enough.” I sigh, lifting my head up and leaning back on the couch. “Shit.” I’m neither sad or angry. Just chilled to the bone.

A moment of silence passes, If it was one thing or another. The fact that someone from our school just got murdered definitely made the mood die.

I roll my head to the side, dropping it down to look at Elisei. She’s biting the inside of her cheek.

“They have cookie recipes on there?”

Eliseis eyes look bright, maybe too bright for me. She nods.

“Let’s make some cookies then.”

I hop off the couch, dragging my feet to the kitchen as she followed along with that crumbled paper that held such news.

“I’ll make sure you don’t burn my house down.”

Elisei smiled slightly, nudging me on the side before scrolling along the catalogue of recipes.

#storytelling #original story #original character #silly #writing #whatarehashtags #chapter

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boundlss · 5 months

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10, 13, and 17 for the Baccano! fandom meme!

10. Character you think is used too much?

i've said this before on other blogs, but i really think niki is used a little too much in the 1700's. i might be biased because i really don't like her very much, but because my enjoyment of the 1700s comes from the fact that we get to see tangible reasons for the characters behaving the way they do in modern times, she ended up feeling a little useless narratively; she didn't really have a lasting emotional or narrative impact on any characters who lived.

13. Least favorite canon pairing? Least favorite non-canon pairing?

haha. my least favorite canon pairing is maria and tick. i don't dislike it in theory, but i think maria didn't really need the implication of romance in her arc... plus, i definitely think she's a lesbian, so there's also that, but i just think it was a product of narita wanting to introduce romance wherever possible. i like most ships in baccano, but that one missed the mark for me!

i think my least favorite non-canon pairing aside from the ones that are genuinely deeply immoral is luck/eve, which i'm sure you know. even aside from their age difference, it feels really weird to me to shove them together considering narita actively went out of his way to not do that. idk. the dynamic is just bad to me.

17. How would you go about structuring a hypothetical season 2 or reboot of Baccano?

well, this is something i've said many times, but i would completely redo the drug and the dominos part of season 1; in an ideal world, that is. i'd really like to see a back-and-forth story of drug and the dominos and man in the killer, since they're both in the same year and pair together really nicely as stories, but i'd also accept a standalone couple episodes for drug and the dominos.

if i was rebooting the series entirely, i think i'd cover a lot of what the anime did, but i'd completely cut out the half-baked volume 4 adaptation attempt to give more room for development for the major players and plots in 1-3.

baccano questions! / accepting.

#starwonderz #out of character #ty for the ask :)

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meatriarchived · 4 months

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the early morning hours slowly ticked on by, and maria carefully stepped over the others all strewn about the middle of her livingroom. all having finally tired out, drinks settling in and passing a wave of drowsiness over each of them to lull them to sleep — nestled under blankets they brought with them. finally asleep after their little friendsmas party fizzled out for the night.

maria steals a glance at the wall clock, reading just past four, before she makes her way to the kitchen, idly and quietly tidying things up a little, making sure containers of cookies and other sweets she and connie had baked the day before were closed up tight and stacked off to the side.

she hears donnie's voice, tiredly mumbling incoherent question from beside her, jolting and looking up at him, stifling a laugh as she whispers, " oh— sorry, i didn't know you were awake, too. you spooked me for a second. " chuckle comes from him, followed by a sorry for sneaking up on her like that, before asking again — clearer, this time — if she needed any help.

maria smiles sweetly and shakes her head, " no, i just wanted to make sure things were closed up. we can clean in the morning— oh, "

eyes catch onto the mistletoe above kitchen doorway, she takes hold of his arm and points over to it, " i think i missed you when the others were going around! " she looks up at him, grinning, and turns her cheek to the side a little, to let him lean in and leave a kiss — one, perhaps, that lingers against her cheek some moments longer — before he begins to pulls away, to give her space to return it.

and maria, all too happy to make sure he got one too, hops up on tiptoe to meet him, but misses his cheek and instead kisses at just the corner of his mouth, before going back down on her feet. beaming contently up at him and hugging him before either of them could process the little hiccup in aim she just made, " there we go! merry christmas, vaquero! "

🌿🍒 ( one for miss maria :3c ) | @priestbit

#belated xmas kiss for our cowboy but you know i doubt he'll complain about it in the slightest :3c merry late xmas donnie <3 #priestbit #[ mf ] ── * 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃. { maria. }

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sabraeal · 2 years

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don’t speak boyshit, Chapter 5

[Read on AO3]

On the morning of the hanami, Inomata Maria wakes up before her alarm.

She does not, however, get up. No morning stretches to ease the stiffness of her muscles, no hurried shuffle to the bathroom to wash the stale taste of sleep from her mouth, no frenzied ironing so her pleats sit the way they do on the academy’s brochure.

Instead dread paralyzes her, keeping her pinned to the mattress, a literal weight on her chest conjured by her anxiety to inconvenience her. All she can manage to do is curl up on her side, watching the red numbers tick by, the knot in her stomach growing heavier with every minute lost.

Precious time, the kind she should be using to study, not lay here and have an existential crisis about whether or not she can afford to give up these few hours, or if she’s just signing herself up for an afternoon of regret dogging her heels.

Guilt slithers beneath her skin, two sizes too tight. It’s not that she isn’t excited to see Yuki-- or even Kawata and Yamane, when it comes to it-- or that she doesn’t enjoy being with them. It’s only-- only--

Three years isn’t enough time for Maria to believe she’s not just the girl at the birthday party only because it's rude not to invite the whole class. Rationally, she knows that’s not true, that she’s not just some awkward pet Yuki’s adopted and the other two simply tolerate, but still-- the worry’s there, just out of sight, lurking in the shadows of every good time. It’s exhausting to think about how it may never leave.

Her alarm saves her from further contemplation, habit and reflex driving her to her feet before dread can pull her back under again. And once she’s upright, it’s easy to move forward, to pretend that she’s too not weird to have friends and not too simpleminded to skip studying.

That is, of course, until she gets to her closet.

Maria does not own enough clothes to be daunted-- at least, clothes that aren’t the academy’s uniform, neatly pressed and hung on their hangers, a skirt and blouse for each day-- but even still, she hesitates, taking in the pinks and browns and--

Do you wear cute things out of school?

Her hand clenches around the door. Her clothes had seemed just fine yesterday, serviceable even, but now-- now she’s squinting at each piece, wondering just how short this falls of those glossy cover expectations. Would those girls with their glowing skin and perfect hair pick out the same pieces, or would they pass them right by in the window? She’d always thought it enough to pick girlish colors-- rose and lavender and daisy yellows, blues that could be described in terms of babies-- but it can’t be, not when so many other girls are thinking about lip gloss and mascara and hemlines.

Maria isn’t made for this sort of thing. Perhaps Kawata or Yamane-- or Inui Mika-- would stand in front of their closet, debating the merits of a coffee A-line or a slate box-pleat, but Maria just blindly reaches into her closet, grabbing the first skirt and blouse she sees. There’s no point after all; it’s not as if Kashima is going to see her.

One quick glance in the mirror makes her blanch, bloodless above an eggshell collar. The shades might be a bit off, but-- button-up blouse, straight skirt. All she’s missing is the bow and blazer. “I look like I’m going to class.”

Kawata has a point; Maria’s clothes may or may not be cute, but she’s certainly not dressing like she’s out of school.

“Maybe,” she mutters, manhandling buttons out through their holes, “today calls for something a little different.”

It’s a dress that she settles on in the end, a pale rose that makes her look even paler above it, like she’s made of porcelain than flesh. An effect adults have always told her was sweet, but maybe-- maybe it’s too much. Maybe she’s too pale, and pink is too obvious a color for a hanami. There’s small flowers printed across it too, not sakura but close, and--

And she needs to stop thinking about this. Sure, the skirt falls a little too close to the knee, and the cut is certainly more academic than trendy, but at least it reads teacher rather than student.

Maria curls her toes around the edge of the landing, floorboards creaking under her indecision. It’s what she’s wearing. She just needs to accept it. Move forward.

“Maria?” Mother’s voice hugs the corner of the kitchen, stealing up the stairwell. “Come down and set the table.

Good thing there’s always something she’s supposed to be doing. “I'll be right there.”

A restlessness races through her legs, urging her to take the stairs two at a time, to skip down them-- anything to burn off that tremble coursing through her. But Maria is nothing if not an expert on nervous energy; she restrains herself to a sedate pace, entering the kitchen like it’s simply a normal Sunday, and this the most normal of breakfasts.

Mother’s fussing with an omelet, urging the egg into a roll with one hand while the other jostles the pan, hissing under her breath. For a moment, it is so normal, so utterly mundane, that Maria forgets there’s anything to be worried about at all besides setting out the right bowls.

That is until Mother says, gaze not moving an inch from the pan, “You look nice. Is that for the hanami?”

She smooths her palms over the stiff cotton, jasmine blossoming between her fingers. “It...It is.”

With one last flip, Mother turns, prodding the omelet out onto the cutting board. Maria expects her to reach for a knife, painstakingly marking the roll into even parts before she commits to a cut. But instead Mother stops, eyes scrolling over her with an intensity that makes her wonder if her hemline is long enough. “You said you were just meeting your friends there, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes.” She bustles over to where the bowls are stacked, fingers fitting into their grooved sides. As long as she’s moving with purpose, it’s easy to maintain control. “Yuki is the one handling the arrangements, but she did say both Yamane and Kawata would be coming.”

About the boys, she’d heard nothing at all. It’s a relief; the last thing she wanted was to spend her whole afternoon muddling through a conversation with some random boy from 3-C. It might disappoint Yuki, but Maria knows: they’ll have a much better time with just the four of them. After all, anything’s better than watching their dates all clamor for Yuki’s undivided attention.

And yet, Yamane and Kawata looked forward to it. Were eager to go, as if the discards were all they could aspire to. Is that what she’ll be left with when the dust settles and there’s a degree in her hand: some more perfect girl’s leftovers?

Maria coughs, trying to clear her throat of the nerves creeping into it. “Can I ask you something?”

The knife clacks as it hits the cutting board, too loud in the kitchen’s quiet. “Of course,” Mother says. “You can ask me anything. You know that.”

It’s a testament to her mother’s efficiency that she can pack so much disappointment into only three words. Maria’s teeth ache from biting back an apology that’s all reflex and no remorse.

Instead, she funnels all that uncontrollable urge into blurting out, “How did you meet Dad?”

Mother’s eyes narrow over the chopping block, head taking a sharp, curious tilt. “What’s brought this about?”

It’s impressive how much accusation she can fit into a simple question. ��I was just wondering. I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

“You’ve never been interested before. Maria--” Mother’s gaze catches hers, as firm as a touch, holding her attention hostage for good behavior-- “are you going to meet boys today?”

She says boys the way other people might say venereal diseases: with the unspoken implication that they went unwanted and avoided by the virtuous.

“No! No.” Maria shakes her head hard enough the bowls nearly slip from her fingers. “Why would we want to invite them?”

Kashima might be tolerable, but the rest of her year-- well, at least an infection would go away if she found herself with one. She’s not so sure she could say the same for Ebizawa or Saginuma. It was hard enough keeping Yagi out of her business, let alone someone who might see talking as interest.

“I remember being your age.” It’s impossible to imagine; there are pictures enough of her mother in gakuen, her blazer smart and shirt pressed, every pleat on her skirt falling in line. But still she can only see her as she is now, scowling and stern as sakura petals fall around her. “Your studies come first, Maria. Boys are something you can worry about after college.”

“I-I know that.” Guilt gnaws at her stomach, twisting in knots to get away from its teeth. “There’s no plans to meet any boys.”

Anymore, at least. But Mother doesn’t need to know that, not when she’s already nodding. “Good. You’ve worked so hard already. It would be a shame for you to throw it all away now for some...distraction.”

Right, because that’s what a boyfriend would be. One that might keep her from getting into her top choice if she slipped on her studying. A perverse impulse urges her to protest, to say that if it were Kashima, it would be different. He’s a balm to her nerves, not a block to her focus, someone who makes her calmer, softer-- a better person.

But what point was there? She’s spent too many hours already on trying to understand what he wanted, what could make him need her as much as she needed him, and the results have been clear: no matter what she does, she’ll never have a chance.

“I know,” she murmurs, bowl striking the tabletop with a clack. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Good.” Mother reaches out, fingers brushing through her hair. “I knew I could count on you.”

Punctuality, Father was so fond of hearing himself say, is a journey that starts by arriving early.

It’s an adage that has seen Maria through aced exams and disappointing piano recitals, through family photos and an exceptionally disastrous semester of ballet. But now, now--

Every second of it feels like a mistake.

They are supposed to meet at eleven. At least, that’s the time Yuki’s email stated as of last night; Maria had gone over it at least a dozen times, just to make sure, even looking at maps of the park to pinpoint their exact meeting location. Fifteen minutes early is the minimum requirement for on-time-- at least according to Father-- but she adds another ten for a potentially missed bus, and another five for finding the specific spot by the canal she’s supposed to wait. Which leaves her an entire twenty minutes to stand around, looking completely friendless, a sad sack that every passerby would look on with pity--

“Inomata-san!”

Ah, she can tell herself it’s useless, that this time, this time she’ll finally see her way past this crush on Kashima, but the moment she hears her name, her heart is racing again like it never stopped.

Maria turns her chin past her shoulder, and-- and there he is, raising an arm with his wide, boyish smile. “Over here, Inomata-san!”

Her foot scuffs, angling her right toward him like an arrow to a target, all quivering eagerness to fly. But she catches herself, drawing up short before she can take a step further, hands clenched at her sides. It’s not his email that’s in her phone now asking her to wait. It’s not him who smiled up at her yesterday, saying so sweetly, you’re coming, aren’t you, Maria-chan? Her heart might wish different, but she’s not here for Kashima.

“I’m sorry,” she calls across the path, toes curling in her shoes to keep them planted there. “It’s nice to see you, but I’ve already made plans with--”

“Ushimaru-san?” Kashima’s smile is already too much at the best of times, but now it widens, actual joy seeping out its edges, and she-- she ducks behind her scarf, cheeks blazing. “I know. She sent me an email last night about meeting today.”

“O-oh.” Yuki’s smile takes on a different edge in her memory, a sly one. You’re sure you’ll come, Maria-chan? You’re sure you’re sure? “I hadn’t-- I didn’t know--”

Kashima stares up at her, eyes too wide for anything but innocence. “She said she would send you the change in plans.”

“Did she? I looked last night and--”

And there it is, right on her screen when it flips open. 1 UNREAD MESSAGE FROM YUKI-CHAN. “Ah.”

Her lips press tight as she opens it, as she reads, Kashima-kun said that we could join his group today. You can thank me later

A winky face stares up at her, its one colon eye accusing, as if even unseeing, it can sense the depths of her depravity. “Oh,” she manages through her teeth. “I see it now. How--” she blinks-- “wait, your group?”

“Ah.” Kashima rubs at the back of his neck, skin blossoming with a flush more delicate than any petal. “Yes, well, I had already invited--”

“’Nii-chan!” Kotaro races to the edge of the blanket, stopping just short before he slowly, gently puts a foot on it. “I caught a flower!”

“Haah.” Embarrassment leaks so heavily from Kashima’s smile that she’s almost mortified for him. “Good job, Kotaro! I was just telling Inomata-san--”

“Welcome, Inomata-sama.” Saikawa kneels down behind Kotaro, head bowed in deference. “I am happy to hear you will be joining us today. Please do partake in the bentos I have packed for Ryuuichi-sama and Kotaro-sama’s friends.”

Inomata blinks. “Kashima...and...friends...?”

“Ah, that’s what I’ve been trying to say,” Kashima admits. “I invited the babysitter club.“

Now that she’s looking, it’s obvious: Kashima’s blanket is less a blanket and more like the bottom of a pavilion, spread wide over the grass between the trees. Far too big for a group date-- though a lunch provided by Saikawa might test that theory-- but just the right size for the club, plus a few extra.

“Ah, Inomata-san, please, sit down.” Kashima sweeps a hand out, cheeks still a humiliated pink. “We have plenty of room.”

Even with the invitation, it’s with colt legs that Maria hobbles over to it, unsteady and unsure. The moment her soles touch the fabric, she braces to slip; that would be her luck after all, to get a chance to impress Kashima all on her own, and waste it by falling over like some idiot. Still, she keeps her balance just fine, dropping to her knees with all the grace of a pig in a trough.

When she dares to look at Kashima, she expects to see a grimace, or maybe a squirming level of discomfort, something to remind her that he’s just being nice, that if he had his choice, he would have left her off his list entirely.

But instead he smiles, eyes crinkling earnestly as he says, “I’m glad you could make it, Inomata-san.”

“Tch.” She turns her head away, cheeks burning. “I was only coming to meet Yuki-chan.”

“Ah! Of course.” His hands wave nervously between them. “I wasn’t trying to say that you were...um...hm...” He clears his throat. “It’s very kind of you to keep your plans with Ushimaru-san, even if they aren’t...quite what you agreed to.”

Someone with charm might tell him, but these ones are even better. Someone like Yuki, who could make anything a compliment with her sweet voice. Maria, on the other hand, only manages, “Well, I wasn’t just going to leave! That would be rude.”

“I know, I know.” Now he does grimace, chagrined. “I wasn’t trying to make fun of you, Inomata-san. I just wanted to thank you for being such a good friend.”

“Oh.” Her forehead feels like it’s on fire; maybe she’s getting a cold. “That’s fine then. And, er, even if she told me about our change in plans earlier, it would have been fine. You’re an all right person to spend time with.”

“Oh.” His smile widens, so bright she can hardly bear to look. “That’s nice of you to say.”

I mean every word. That’s what she should say, what burns on the edge of her tongue, begging, to fall out, but--

“High praise from someone as discerning as you, Inomata-sama.” She nearly jumps as Saikawa leans in with a much milder expression, though just as pleased. “Perhaps you might like a bento now that you have been seated. I made three different kinds, the first--”

“There’s sakura mochi too!” Taka chimes in, spilling into her lap. His grin is toothy and pink-- the same pink that’s smeared all over his mouth and chin too. “It’s really good.”

She blinks, mouth working for a moment before she manages, “You’re here too?”

“Of course I am,” he says proudly, slapping a hand over his chest. “I’m an honor-- honolary-- horrorary--”

“Honorary,” Kashima supplies with his usual patience, and it’s not until then that Maria realizes that she was waiting for a don’t hurt yourself, stupid instead.

“Honorary member,” Taka finishes, right as she asks, “On your own?”

His cheeks puff, petulance giving them the same dimensions they had only a year or two ago. “Mom’s busy, and Nii-chan’s not coming. He says all this pink stuff gives him a headache or whatever.”

A ridiculous excuse, one she should expect from a layabout like him, but-- but she also remembers the clump of blossoms during the ceremony, falling with an unceremonious fwump on his lap. And the way he’d sneezed, violent enough to make Kotaro’s eyes water.

Ha. Now that would be a funny little twist on Inui Mika’s romantic plans. Her stretching up, right on the tip-toes of her Oxfords, leaning in to breathe, take care of me-- and Kamitani sneezing right in her face.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Taka asks, suspicious. “You aren’t looking for my brother, are you?”

“What?” she squawks, smile squashed. “No. Of course not. It’s just-- he’s usually not far from where you are. Glowering.”

“Inomata-neesama,” Taka says, so serious, so dire. “Are you guys gonna get along?”

She gasps. “Absolutely not!”

Kashima leans over, interest bright in his eyes. “Oh my! Have you and Kamitani finally warmed up to each other, Inomata-san?”

This is the last thing she needs. “I would never--”

“I caught them talking during storytime a couple weeks ago,” Taka offers, “but Nii-chan told me to mind my own business.”

Kashima’s eyes widen. “Really?”

Maria can’t just clap a hand over Taka’s mouth, but she can’t let him keep talking. Not when he’s liable to tell Kashima everything, beskirted fish and all. She needs to find some other way, something to distract rather than neutralize.

“Yeah, and they--”

Or at least something that might keep his mouth too busy to talk.

“Hey, Taka-kun.” It’s too loud, the way she speaks, too bubbly. Too much like Yuki-chan and not enough like her. “Do you want another mochi?”

But it works. Taka swings toward her without a moment’s hesitation. “Oh yeah, gimme it!”

“Here,” she says, moving the tray toward him with a beatific smile. “Enjoy.”

In no time at all, the blanket goes from nearly empty to utterly crowded, Maria pressing shoulders with Kumatsuka-sensei on one side and Mamizuka on the other. Yuki arrives not long after the teachers do, Kawata and Yamane in tow. Maria gets to her feet, meaning to drop down next to her-- this was, after all, supposed to be an outing between the four of them-- but Yuki stares at her like she’s grown an extra head.

“Maria-chan,” she gasps, wide-eyed. “What are you doing?”

Maria blinks, half-crouched. “I was just coming to say hello...?”

Yuki stares at her, uncomprehending. “You were sitting down right next to him!”

“W-who--?”

“Kashima-kun!” Yuki hisses, her hands making stressed starburst by her cheeks. “You need to get back there before he follows you!”

“But--”

“Maria-chan.” Warm hands clasp around her own, squeezing tight. “This is your chance to talk with him outside of school. Don’t let it get away!”

She jolts up, nearly dragging Yuki with her. “I-- I won’t. I’ll do my best!”

Maria strides back to her place on the blanket, facing Kashima with a level of determination she typically saves for exams. Guilt tries to grab at her as she watches him, Mother’s voice echoing in her ears-- you aren’t going to be meeting any boys today are you?--

But it finds no purchase. It’s not as if she planned to see Kashima. And even if she had, there was hardly a chance anything more than simply talking would occur. There were teachers here, after all. “Kashima--”

“Oh, look!” He blinks, craning his neck to see down the blanket. “The guys from 3-C are here. I should probably go say hi.” He flashes her an apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Her jaw drops. “But--”

It’s no use; he stands, making his way down to the other end of the blanket, mouth spread just as wide when he greets his friends as when he greeted her. Nothing special, just-- Kashima being Kashima, as always. And her always hoping there’s more to it.

“Ah, good, he’s finally gone.” Sawatari-san leans in, eagerly clasping her hands. “Now we can talk to you, Inomata-san.”

Maria blinks. “Eh?”

“Shizuka told us all about your troubles, Maria-chan.” Mamizuka’s mouth pulls far too wide when she smiles at her, elbow prodding her side. “Your boy problems.”

To think, when Sensei had pulled her aside, she’d worried about her letting her secrets slip to Kamitani. This is far worse. “I don’t have any--”

Two cold hands grasp her shoulders, stilling her words right in her mouth. “It’s all right, Inomata-san,” Kumatsuka-sensei tells her, expression disturbingly mild. “We’ve all been through the same thing. You can trust us to give you a sympathetic ear.”

“And good advice.” Mamizuka gives her a terrible, salacious wink. “You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Oh, yes.” Sawatari nods, smile warm. “Anything you need, Inomata-san, we’re here for you.”

For a moment, Maria is tempted. As confusing as Kamitani-sensei’s ‘advice’ was, it at least came from experience. And three happily married women must have even more; maybe even a surefire way that she could get Kashima to--

“Oh, sorry.” Kashima smiles brightly as he kneels down; an expression that dims when he earns a glare from each teacher in turn. “I-I didn’t mean to interrupt anything...?”

Mamizuka’s voice is too high-pitched for a growl, but she sounds like she might give it a go anyway. “You are.”

“We were having a conversation with Inomata-san,” Kumatsuka informs him, mild and yet somehow more threatening than a shout. “An important one.”

“O-oh?” His mouth tries a tremulous curve. “What about?”

With the utmost calm and composure, Maria presses her palms flat to her lap and yelps, “It’s none of your business!”

“Inomata-sama.”

The blanket is empty, the others up and wandering after the children, laughing as the petals fall around them. But Saikawa-- Saikawa is somehow at her elbow, looking as grave as always. “You’re enjoying the bento I prepared?”

“Ah, yes.” She wipes at her mouth. “It’s--” excellent-- “very good.”

He nods, pleased. With confident hesitation, he says, “Inomata-sama, I am not sure how to bring this up, but it is my understanding that you are learning about love.”

She stares, her whole face hot. “I-- I haven’t-- who--?”

“I myself have never experienced such a magnificent phenomenon,” he continues, as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “But once, in my youth, while I was visiting my grandmother in the Alps--”

It would be unconscionably rude to interrupt him. Maria knows that, she really does; if Mother ever found out, she would send her right to her room for her lack of manners. But she won’t, and if there is another thing Maria knows, it’s that she won’t survive a story as long as this, not when she’ll be on alert, wondering when Kashima will wander back with Kotaro. If he hears even a words of this, she-- she--

“I’m not learning about love,” she blurts out, too loud, but it does the job-- Saikawa halts mid-word, attention fixing on her. “I just want to get a boy to like me.”

He blinks, not in confusion like most people, but like a breath. A way for whatever passes for a brain inside that head of his to switch gears. “Well, there are many who have dedicated their lives to the idea of being desired, Inomata-sama. I shouldn’t think it would be hard for a young woman like yourself to find some young man who would--”

“I mean a, er, specific boy,” she clarifies. “Not just anyone.”

“Oh.” He sits back on his heels. “That seems much more simple, then. I would be best to ask him about his preferences. Once, Ryuuichi-sama tried to make a meal for me to express his gratitude, and he--”

“I’ve tried,” she hurries to inform him, trying to divert his story before it can start. “Sort of. But he just told me things that--” she can’t say brother, not to Saikawa, not when it would make it obvious-- “um, other people like.”

“Ah.” He nods, knowing. “I understand. It is hard for us to know our own hearts.”

“Sure,” she agrees. “But this is, uh, more than usual.”

His eyes round. “Oh, I see. He must be the sort who takes care of others before himself. A very noble young man. You have exceptional taste.”

“I know.” It’s nice to hear it, though she’d die before admitting it. “I’ve already tried studying to understand him, and I’ve had mentorship, er, thrust upon me.”

“To no avail?”

“No.” Her shoulders sag with a sigh. “I’m not sure what else I can do.”

“That does sound wearying.” Maria’s surprised to find that it is, that now that Saikawa’s mentioned it, she’s tired, the way she is after an exam. Wrung out, even. “Have you tried...? No, never mind.”

Her spine straightens, gaze fixing to him like a crow to a call. “What? What is it?”

“This may seem obvious, I suppose, but...” He glances down at her, oddly curious. “Have you tried asking one of his compatriots?”

She stares at him, unblinking. “You mean, one of his friends?”

Saikawa nods. “Yes, someone his age. Someone who is both better acquainted with the desires of youth, and able to speak with some authority about the subject itself. Or rather, himself. A...tutor, one might say.”

“A tutor.” She settles back onto her heels, mulling over the prospect. It’s certainly not a bad idea-- at least, better than anything else she’s heard-- but still... “Who?”

He blinks. “I couldn’t possibly speculate. It would be very individual to your person of interest. If you were to tell me, however--”

“That won’t be necessary.” Kashima, after all, has a lot of friends, a good number of them boys in their year. The ones in 3-C, for one, who are only a few steps away--

And one of them-- the one with glasses-- is trying to use his shoe to knock petals from the tree. I need it for my profile picture, she hears him shout, much to the amusement of his friends. Girls love when there’s flowers and stuff.

Right, there’s a reason these boys aren’t in the advanced class. And if the way the other two are shooting furtive, hopeful looks at Yuki is any indication, talking to them might read as interest rather than research. A request for tutoring might as well be a date.

The boys in her class are no use either; Yagi’s a pervert-- or the next best thing to one-- and Nezu’s advice has already failed her. But there’s not one else, not unless--

“Inomata-sama,” Saikawa says, his tone curious. “Is that someone lurking behind that cherry tree?”

She blinks, letting her eyes readjust to the distance. it takes a minute-- there’s petals everywhere, drawing her eye, but once she ignores them, she sees...red.

Ah. How...convenient.

“There is,” she says, mouth pulling into a smile. Saikawa makes to rise, but she holds out a hand, already on her feet. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this. It’s just our old senpai, after all.”

#inokami #inomata x kamitani #gakuen babysitters #gakubaby #hayato kamitani #kamitani hayato #inomata maria #maria inomata #my fic #future fic #year three #idiots to lovers #slow burn #here we are #finally almost at the conceit of this whole fic #next update is gonna be the POV switch #i cannot wait #i get to trade anxiety for belligerence 🤣

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