#and honestly I wanna see Tommy some more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

futureman · 1 year

Text

the way we fight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.

Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.

It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.

The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.

Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.

You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.

During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.

Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.

On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.

Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.

And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.

It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.

“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”

He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.

There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.

“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”

“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.

Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.

“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.

Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.

“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.

“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.

Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”

Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.

You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.

This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”

All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.

“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.

“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.

You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.

There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.

“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.

You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.

“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.

“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.

“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."

Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.

“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”

But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.

It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.

There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.

Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.

Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.

"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.

The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.

Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.

He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.

Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.

The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.

For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.

Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.

And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.

There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.

He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.

“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”

He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “

And that’s all it takes to convince him.

The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.

He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.

He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.

When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.

“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”

You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”

“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—

It's your backpack.

You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”

You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."

Sweetheart.

"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”

He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.

Your jaw drops.

"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.

What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.

And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.

You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.

You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.

Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.

“I’m fine, by the way,” you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.

You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.

Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.

“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?

“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”

Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.

“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.

A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—

“No fucking way.”

Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”

“Weed,” he breathes out.

You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?

The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.

…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?

But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.

It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.

The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.

The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.

It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.

You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.

Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.

It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.

And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.

“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.

"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"

He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.

"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"

He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.

"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."

You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.

God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.

Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.

You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.

"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“

You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.

“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”

Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.

You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.

"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.

"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"

He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.

But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.

“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”

He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.

You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.

Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.

“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.

His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.

Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.

Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.

His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.

“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”

Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.

There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.

When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.

Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.

Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.

“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”

He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?

“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?

There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.

…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.

“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”

“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.

“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.

You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.

You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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gethelpplease · 7 months

Text

All the Pretty Stars (shine for you, my love)

Ellie x Reader

tags: fluff, stargazing, loser Ellie, cursing, best friends to lovers, one-shot, Loser!Ellie, Jackson!Ellie

synopsis: You and Ellie have been friends since she first came to Jackson. The moment you saw her, you knew she was special. Years later you suddenly realize you're in love with her. One day while stargazing, everything changes between the two of you.

Or: A fluffy fic with a cute little forehead kiss at the end.

word count: 4.7k

AN: I might make a second part with angst. I'm not sure I just rlly wanna write Ellie angst but we'll see if I ever get the time to. School is taking over my life. Anyway, I posted this on ao3 too: All the Pretty Stars (shine for you, my love) by siriusly_not_moony

Enjoy! <3

The view of the stars in Jackson was the best thing anyone could ever see. Ever since the outbreak, there hasn’t been much light pollution outside of QZs. Meaning,1 there’s a good view almost anywhere else. This makes the view of the stars pretty clear, but Jackson has something everywhere else doesn’t have. Ellie Williams. Stargazing with her isn’t just “stargazing.”

Ellie first got to Jackson when she was fourteen, you remember very clearly. Seeing her for the first time quite literally knocked the breath out of you. You’d been in Jackson for a while before her, still adjusting to the new environment. Tommy had finally given into your pestering to improve your defense skills for patrol at 14. Maria never let you go of course, she said you needed more practice and maybe when you turned 16, she would let you. Once she let up, going on patrols with Tommy, Joel, and Ellie, made the pair of you closer. Your connection with Tommy is how you got to meet Ellie. Without him, you probably would have never approached her. He kept insisting you should talk to her, “She’s only a few weeks apart from you, Joel says she’s a good kid. Just talk to her.” “Kid, you need friends, just say hi.” “You know, Joel says she likes comics. Just like you.”

Meeting Ellie was confusing to describe it at best. She was kind, but very curt with all her responses. You almost felt as if she didn’t really care to get to know you. As for you, she was all you thought about since you first saw her.

Joel and Tommy were talking as the three of them walked down to the stables. You watched quietly as they got closer. Ellie stayed close to Joel, but a bit behind silently looking down, looking anywhere but the pair of brothers. It was obvious she felt a bit out of place. You honestly felt bad for her. She must not know anyone in Jackson yet, the only people she knows are grown adults.

They stopped near the open doors of the stables; you were in the first stall brushing Willow’s mane. She was your neighbor’s horse, but she liked you a lot for some reason.

You leaned against the stall door, “Hi.”

Ellie took a few seconds to turn around and see you, a straight look on her face, but her eyes. She has sad eyes. Beautiful, sad, green eyes. The eyes you want to stare at forever, to draw hundreds of times until it’s perfect. The eyes that put you in a trance when you see them up close. And those freckles.

Regret started to fill your stomach, but you pushed it back. You’re doing this for her, so she has a friend. Not because she’s the prettiest person you’ve ever seen. Her eyes were so mesmerizing. You’ve never seen eyes so hypnotizing. And they were looking at yours now. “Hi?”

“Oh,” You introduce yourself completely forgetting how social interactions go for a moment. “I—uh Tommy mentioned you’re about my age, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’ve only been in Jackson for about a year, so I know what it’s like to be new to it all. But, um, if you want a look around, I can show you?”

“Uh,” She looked back at Tommy and Joel. They were definitely into whatever it was they were talking about. You could see Ellie’s internal debate deciding if she should or shouldn’t accept your offer. “Sure.”

“Cool! I’m kind of still learning new things about this place every day. It’s kind of awesome how a place like this is growing and flourishing. It gives me hope you know?”

“Yeah.”

“So, where are you from?”

“Boston QZ.”

“Oh.” She seemed distracted. Or uninterested, who could tell? “So, what brought you here?”

She sighs, “It’s a long story. I came here with Joel. He was looking for Tommy. He found him now so…that’s that.”

You didn’t want to ask about that yet, it seemed a bit too sensitive for a first conversation. “This is the community garden. Some people grow their own stuff in their own yards for easy access, but this is the main source. We all help out here.”

You showed her around the most important parts of town. You found out she’s staying around the corner, just a minute's walk away. She cracked a smile once when you mentioned that almost everyone you knew would rather run into infected than listen to Seth drunkenly rant about his philosophical discoveries that make zero sense. You walked her back to her place after roughly less than an hour. You gave her directions to your place and said goodbye with a smile. The one you got in return made you weak to your knees.

After that first interaction, you didn’t speak for a couple of days before you saw her at the diner for breakfast. After that, you got breakfast together every day, which led to hanging out together. After a couple weeks of talking, you actually felt a really strong connection to her. She was your first real friend, and it was the best thing ever.

A couple years later, once Maria let you out on patrol, you convinced her to let you go with Ellie. And Joel and Tommy of course. She wouldn’t trust just the two of you alone. At this point, you spent most of your days with her. You got to know Joel too. You got to know just how sassy that man was despite his tough exterior. He was definitely Tommy’s brother.

Now, it was safe to say Ellie was your best friend. You two also made friends with Dina, Jesse, Cat, Riah, and Travis. You were also acquainted with a few others who you met through Dina. Meeting Dina really brought you out of your shell, and you can thank her for it. She’s the reason why you allowed yourself to become friends with other people. Dina was both yours and Ellie’s closest friend, besides each other. That’s why you came to Dina when you realized you were completely in love with Ellie. You knew you had a crush on her when the two of you had just started talking, but you were convinced it would go away. You pushed it back and kind of thought it did go away, but years later you now know that’s not the case. One day it just dawned on you that you were in love with her. One random, normal day.

You and Ellie were lying about on her bed. You found a bottle of alcohol on patrol and obviously brought it back. You two were drinking out of it just until you felt a buzz, not trying to get too drunk. Because of this, you two reached a somewhat dizzy and sleepy state. She was practicing a familiar tune on the guitar while you were sketching exactly what you saw. You both bonded over drawing, she was definitely better than you. She was always getting so much better so quickly. It was amazing. You were drawing the freckles on her face and that one distinct freckle on the top of her left cheek when you just started staring freely at her. She was distracted and you took the opportunity to just take in all of her features. In doing so, you got a dangerously strong feeling of butterflies in your stomach. You felt it first, and then a few beats later you realized what that meant. Your breath was suddenly gone.

Shit.

You sat up clenching your jaw trying to think straight for just one moment.

I’m in love with Ellie Fucking Williams…

In love. Love. God, this isn’t going to go away.

That night you slept beside her which was kind of a normal thing for the two of you. She slept soundly from what you could hear, but you stayed up for hours nervous and jittery. You only got a few hours of consistent sleep.

When you finally got the chance to tell Dina, she already knew of course. You told her about your “big realization,” but she said it was incredibly obvious from the very beginning. She even thought you and Ellie were dating before you two became friends with her.

She helped you come up with an outline on what to tell Ellie. It really shouldn’t be that difficult to talk about your feelings, but this is Ellie. Your best friend who you know is a bit emotionally constipated. You feel like even if there was a chance that she liked you back, she would never grant herself the ability to do anything about it. For someone so deserving, she never let herself be truly happy.

“You got this.” Dina grinned your way as she walked you to the door.

You spun quickly back towards her ready to go back to her bed and just talk to her instead of Ellie.

Dina grabbed your shoulders and turned you back to the door, literally kicking you out. “Nope. You’re doing this today. Trust me, it’ll work out.”

“No Dina, I really don’t think I can. If she turns me down, I will actually hide away forever. I’ll go throw myself into a horde of infected and it’ll be your fault.”

She lets out a long sigh and gives you a knowing look as you stand outside her door, “If you never do it you could be missing out on something really beautiful. At least try? You both deserve to be happy.”

You groan loudly. You agree with her of course, if the roles were reversed you would probably tell Dina the same thing. “Okay. I’ll do it, just give me a few days to prepare. I’ll talk to her sometime this week. I want to.”

“Yes you will.”

“Thank you Dina. I probably would have rotted in self-doubt without you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“Bye Hun.” She gives you a small finger wave as you walk away.

After that conversation with Dina, you tried to keep your feelings for Ellie behind a curtain. The last thing you would want is to make things weird between you and her. You also noticed that knowing how you felt and continuing your friendship as normal was pretty tiring. You had to constantly think about every choice you made and every word you said. In a perfect world, you told her the moment you knew and she told you she liked you back. Too bad. This isn’t that world. Ellie is hard to read. Yeah, she smiles at you a lot, will stare at you when she thinks you don’t notice, and she’ll hold you or play with your hair when you guys watch movies. That’s being friendly. You kinda do some of those things with Dina? Despite your internal emotional battle, you told Dina you would tell Ellie. You’re not doing this for Dina though, you’re doing this for yourself. Going on pretending you’re not completely in love with Ellie would be too much.

It was a couple days later when got to spend the entire day with Ellie. Those days came rarely now. You love spending time with Ellie, so it wasn’t exactly a problem, but you definitely needed some time alone at the end of it all. You were laying down in an empty field behind one of the small playgrounds. The grass was a bit taller and uncomfortably itchy, so you had a sheet under you and your mini telescope lens Maria gave you for your 16th birthday. This was your spot to look at the stars at night. Ellie would usually go with you since she loves space too, but you didn’t tell her you were here this time. Because of that, you didn’t expect to hear footsteps approaching. Much less Ellie’s footsteps.

You sit up to look behind you, “What’re you doing here?”

“Tommy told me where you were.”

“I thought you were going to sleep earlier tonight since you have morning patrol.”

“Yeah, but…I dunno, I changed my mind.” She sat beside you partly on the grass. You knew she wouldn’t really be bothered by the grass since she’s wearing pants and a long sleeve, but you scooted over to make a bit more room for her. You patted the spot next to you and she took the offer and smiled, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were kinda spacey today. You know? I feel like you zoned out a lot.”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” You stare back up at the sky hoping she isn’t thinking too much into your behavior. “I’ve just been tired.”

“Yet you’re out watching the stars in the middle of the night.”

You chuckled, “Whatever.”

You let out a big sigh. A few moments of silence fall over you two, but it’s comfortable.

You lay back down on your sheet to get a good look at a small bunch of stars that look like one of the constellations you read about. You turn your head a bit to the right, and you are finally able to connect the stars and make out the figure you’ve been trying to find for a few nights. Ellie’s still sitting up, watching you observe the stars. You look at her and she takes a few seconds to notice. She had a soft smile on her face that was so beautiful it haunted you. When she notices you’re shift of attention she darts her eyes around before finally settling back on you, accompanied with a confused look.

“I found it!”

“Found it?”

“The constellation we were looking for the other night. I found it. C’mere.”

She lays down by you, her shoulder touching yours. “Where?”

“Here!” You point to a spot in the sky, but it doesn’t seem very effective. You lean over, your face so close to Ellie’s, looking at the sky. Your eyes are trying their hardest to stay focused on the sky despite the fact that Ellie’s eyes are like magnets. You’re trying to see the stars from her perspective to give her a better idea of where the bunch of stars are. “There.” You say quietly due to your proximity.

When she notices your eyes on the sky her eyes follow, hoping you didn’t see where her eyes were originally. She looks back at you and her eyes dart to your lips before looking back and forth between your left and right eyes. She slightly licks her lips causing you to look at them. It becomes too much so you lay back down in your original spot.

You take a few seconds to regain your calm, releasing a soft sigh. “Um, this was the dog constellation I was telling you about.” You had a moment. You definitely had a moment.

“The one with that super bright star? Sirion? No, wait, Sirius?”

“Yeah, Sirius. Did you learn that from the constellation book I gave you?”

“Obviously…Have you read the space mysteries book I gave you?”

“I’ll have you know that I have read some of it, actually.”

“You haven’t.” She said with a deadpan face.

“No, I really have,” you say giggling, “I swear!”

“I can never tell when you’re being sarcastic.” She rolls her eyes and lets out a gruff breath as she turns her head the other way.

You two lay in silence for a few minutes enjoying the quiet ambience. In Jackson, most settle down around 10:30 p.m. The only noise you hear now is the wind causing leaves to rustle against each other, a few crickets, and the soft background of cicadas.

“I have a question.” Ellie says randomly.

“What?” You respond still laying down on your back, eyes darting between Ellie and the sky. One reason why you love the stars and constellations so much might, or might not, be because of how they remind you of Ellie’s freckles. It just makes so much sense. She has the bigger more prominent freckles under her left eye and above her left eyebrow kind of like how there are brighter stars in constellations. You smile to yourself just thinking about it.

“Okay,” she says moving to lay down on her side with her head propped up on her fist, “you said that you immediately liked me when you first saw me, but what did you mean? Because I was really thinking about it the other day and I remember kind of being a jerk when we first met.”

Thinking about that makes you chuckle. She wasn’t that much of a jerk she just acted as most teens do when they see someone their age. The weird critical glances and kind of guarded attitude. “I don’t know. You—I mean… you weren’t a jerk from what I remember. Maybe I just ignored it. But, you did seem shy like you were afraid to make friends and I think that made me want to be friends with you more. And I liked you when I instantly saw you because you… I don’t know I just immediately knew I had to talk to you. I didn’t have any real friends at that point in my life, but I thought maybe it could be you.”

“Wow.”

“Shut up. I don’t mean to be cheesy but I just got a feeling I guess.”

“No, no, it’s cute.”

“Yeah whatever… What about you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you’re first impression of me. Just that you’re glad that I talked to you.”

“I mean there’s not much to say. You said it all.”

“Uh, yeah. I said my side. Now I wanna know your side.” You poke her shoulder with your finger to make your point.

“Ok… fine,” She pauses for a second gathering her thoughts, “I remember seeing you kinda linger around when I first rode in with Joel. I didn’t want to look your way ‘cause I knew you were looking at me. I definitely knew you were weird.” You shove her shoulder, a wide smile plastered on your face. “I didn’t really expect to make friends actually. You already know I’ve only ever had one real friend my age, so when you came up to me, I thought I should try. I remember that talk very clearly actually. You gave me a tour and a rundown on how the social life is here. We talked a bit about our interests, and I found out you liked comics too, so I think that did it for me.”

“Aw, it wasn’t my great jokes?”

She shouts, “Ha!” Obviously making fun of you.

“Your puns are just as bad so you better keep your mouth shut.”

“My puns are amazing. You know you love them. You’ve told me before.”

“Mmm, no. Must have me confused for someone else.”

She smiles and nods her head, a sweet look on her face you wish you could take a photo of.

“The moon looks so nice right now.” She says as she stares in awe at the full moon overhead. She then reaches over you to grab the mini telescope lens. When she grabs it, it rolls off a bit causing her to lose her balance and slip. She catches herself before she slams into you, just hovering over you with her hand on the side of your head and the other half-folded on your other side providing her with support.

Your instant reaction was to grab her, so your hand is hovering over her waist, “You okay?”

“Yeah, my bad.” She still hasn’t moved, staring at your eyes, then looking around your entire face.

Your heart is beating too fast and too strong. You feel the need to breathe faster, but you can’t make it too obvious. You’re staring at her lips just waiting for her to do something because you don’t have the will to make the first move. Then you see her lips form into a smirk, so you look back up at her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says letting out a breathy laugh.

“No, what?” You say, turning red. Was she laughing at the way you looked at her lips?

“Just… you.” She’s still chuckling.

“What about me?” Your eyebrows scrunch up, an almost pouted look on your face. You feel very left out of whatever is making Ellie so entertained.

“I don’t know,” she is still laughing. “You just make me smile.”

“Ha ha. Fuck you too.” You reply out of defense feeling like she’s teasing you.

You’re partly confused because of this sudden mood change from Ellie. She’s cute when she’s giggly, but she usually only gets that way when she has a bit of alcohol in her system or when she’s taken a couple hits too many. You smile, brows still scrunched, but her comment makes you blush. You turn away from her thinking, What the fuck was that?

You turn back to face her, but she’s still smiling at you, still hovering over you. Your hand is gone from her waist and now it’s on the floor, feeling like it’s glued down. Your entire body feels frozen as if gravity has doubled in force, trying to staple you to the ground.

She stopped laughing so there’s a moment of pure silence between the two of you. That’s when it feels too real, the energy around the two of you changes completely. Her smile slowly falls and she’s staring at your lips, then looks into your eyes with permission. You could be imagining it, but that thought depleted from your brain when Ellie finally leans in. She lowers her head, only a centimeter from yours for one second almost second-guessing herself. Butterflies flood your stomach and then your entire body as you take in what is happening. You both end up moving your heads at the same time and it’s the best thing in the world. Her lips touch yours so gently, lingering there for a bit. You try to process the moment, but you can only focus on Ellie.

Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.

You move your lips against hers slowly. It’s a closed-mouth kiss that lasts a few long seconds. She pulls away, eyes closed, still so close, and she sighs shakily. You’re still looking at her in pure shock and admiration because this is it. This is what you were so scared of and it’s all you ever wanted, except you didn’t have to make the first move. She did.

Ellie repositions herself so she’s not relying on only her arms for support. She kneels down, one of your legs between the two of hers and then she lowers herself back on top of you, one hand on your neck and the other beside your head.

This time, you lean in to kiss her first and it’s different. You know what it’s like and you want more. She holds your head closer, pushing you into her as much as she can. One of your hands find the back of her head, fingers brushing through her hair. The other hand is under her shirt on her waist, moving back and forth occasionally to her lower back. She slightly moans into your mouth at the sensation. It’s not freezing outside, but your fingers hold a slight chill against her warm back. You’re thinking you could just live in this moment forever, but then things get better and your mind starts racing.

More.

Ellie’s the one to deepen the kiss, slipping her tongue into your mouth first. Then, to top it all off, she grabs your leg, pulling it down to get you closer to her. She doesn’t move her hand, keeping it on your leg stroking up and down slowly occasionally squeezing your thighs. You use that leg to feel closer to her, wrapping it around her. She pulls away for a second and you think it’s over, but she takes a deep breath and starts leaving feathery kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your eyes fall shut. It’s a struggle to stay calm when you feel her lips on your skin, her hand on your neck, fingers in your hair, and her other hand stroking your thigh.

“Ellie.” You barely croak the word out, not wanting her to stop. “Ellie,” you say a bit louder now, still a whisper “Ellie.” The last time you say her name, it comes out as a giggle. Her lips brushed against a sensitive spot on your neck.

She looks up looking dazed, “Yeah?” she whispers back.

You grab her face to pull her closer and kiss her briefly, her eyes still closed for a few seconds after you pull away and a smile forming on her face. Meanwhile, you’re grinning like a fool. You push her off of you playfully as you laugh, “We have to get back. We need some sleep.”

“Five more minutes.” She sighs staring up at the sky.

“Okay.” You sigh, “Five minutes.”

You both lay in each other’s company for those five minutes, silently processing what just happened.

“Okay five minutes are up, it’s pretty late.” You say, grunting as you push yourself up and begin to gather your things.

Ellie’s still laying down. You both know you should go home and sleep, but you don’t want to leave this moment just yet.

You sigh and kick her leg. “Get up.” You say reaching your hand out.

“Damn, okay.” She takes the invitation pulling herself up.

The two of you begin to walk towards the road where you live not knowing whose house you’re exactly going to. Ellie’s place comes up first and as you slow down to say bye, she doesn’t stop.

“Let me drop you off.” She insists turning to face you.

“Drop me off? Ellie, we’re already at your place, I’ll be fine walking down the street alone.” You say in disbelief.

“Come on,” she says grabbing your hand as she drags you down the street towards your place.

“Uh-” you utter in surprise. What is this girl on?

You walk for a couple minutes looking over at Ellie, she looks lost in thought as she unconsciously swings your hands.

“I’m grabbing breakfast extra early in the morning with Joel, he wants to give me woodworking lessons again.” She looks away, “He’s—he’s trying.”

“That’s good though…I don’t really know exactly what happened between the two of you, but I know he cares about you so much and from how you talked about him Ellie, I know you care about him just as strongly. I want you to be happy, and if this is how, then that’s good.”

She looks at you thoughtfully, then looks down. “Yeah.” A slight pause, “Thanks.”

“You’re going to do that before patrol?”

“Yeah.”

“’Kay. Do you wanna come over later? I was just going to help out in the stables for a bit after then kinda chill for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, sure, that sounds good.” A smile back on her face. She turns to walk you up to your door, “See you tomorrow—or later I guess.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.” You smile softly at her, releasing your joined hands. You want to tell her just how much you’re going to remember tonight and how much you like her, but not yet. Not yet.

While you’re thinking, she leans in to brush a soft kiss on your forehead, catching you off guard. She doesn’t let it linger too long, but just long enough for you to still feel a tingle in her lips’ absence. “Night.” She whispers against your forehead. She turns and walks back down the road, just like that. Meanwhile, you’re watching her go in disbelief at how much happened in one night. This is going to change a lot.

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punkshort · 4 months

Text

look what we've become - ch.9

Chapter Summary: Joel nurses you back to health and you come to a startling realization about your future together.

Chapter Warnings: language, descriptions of some injuries, fluff, protective Joel, soft Joel, little bit of angst, lots of feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering

WC: 6K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

After arriving back in Jackson, you ended up spending nearly three weeks in the infirmary. Your injuries were worse than you thought. From what you could remember, Bill said you had some internal damage along with several fractures and sprains. The cut in your leg was infected, but fortunately Eugene's group did manage to successfully trade for the rest of the antibiotics before everything happened in Salt Lake City.

You ended up sleeping quite a bit in those weeks, but Ellie told you later that Joel hardly ever left your side. She had said she would get into arguments with him, trying to convince him to take turns at your bedside so he could go home and rest, but he refused.

"I don't know which one of you is more stubborn - you or him," Bill mumbled to you as he gently removed the IV from your arm. You chuckled, your eyes finding his broad form outside your bedroom talking quietly with Tommy, just out of earshot.

"Definitely him."

You were grateful Bill let you go home, but he insisted on doing house visits twice a day until you were on your feet. Most of your superficial wounds had healed but you were still very tired and weak. Bill could see improvement every day, and he said that's all that mattered.

On his way out, Bill stopped to check in with Joel, no doubt updating him on your condition and any medicine he would have to administer for you. You watched his face as he listened intently, his brow furrowed as he looked down at the bottles Bill handed him. You had to stifle a giggle when you saw him squint at the label and hold it further away from his face.

While Joel and Bill continued to talk, Tommy slipped past them and into your room, giving you a grin as he plopped down in the chair next to your bed.

"Lookin' good," he said, making you laugh and then wince, gingerly touching your ribs.

"Liar," you said, and he chuckled, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the scabs and yellow bruises with a sigh.

"Just wanna let you know, we cut off all trades with 'em," he said, his voice taking on a serious tone.

"I figured. I know they had a lot of things we could use - "

"We'll find those things somewhere else. Not worth it," he said, cutting you off.

You nodded and cast your gaze to the side.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he replied, tapping his foot on the floor. "Maria said she was gonna stop by later after work, you think you're up for it?"

"Yeah, of course," you said, although you honestly couldn't tell these days. It seemed like you fell asleep at the drop of a hat.

"How's Ellie?" you asked him. Whenever you asked Joel, he frustratingly just gave you the most basic information. She's fine. She's in school. Think I saw her with a couple girls the other day.

"She's adjusting real good. She's been stayin' with Julia, but I'm not sure it's a permanent solution for either of them." He eyed you carefully as your gaze drifted over his shoulder at Joel, who was walking Bill down the steps to the front door. "You got any ideas?"

"Me?" you asked, looking back to him now and raising your eyebrows in surprise. You knew what he was implying, and he just nodded.

"I would love it if she wanted to stay here, but I'm pretty sure Joel wouldn't like that, and I really don't want to push him right now. He's so stressed, Tommy. I can see it in his eyes. He's not sleeping well, and I'm worried about his blood pressure -"

"Have you talked to him about it? About the kid?" Tommy asked, and you shook your head.

"No, but he made his feelings pretty well known when she first got here."

"Lots happened since then. He might surprise you," Tommy said, standing up with a grunt. You frowned and opened your mouth to question him further when Joel walked through the door, his gaze falling on his brother.

"Just headin' out, don't worry, I know she needs her rest," Tommy said, sneaking you a wink as he headed towards the door. You thanked him for visiting and listened to them walk down the stairs, their voices fading the further they got until the door closed and all that was left was Joel's heavy footsteps slowly coming back up. He reached the door and leaned against the frame as he gave you a small smile, but you could see how exhausted he was. His eyes looked bloodshot and his shoulders sagged.

"Come here," you whispered, and he quickly pushed off the wall to come to your side.

"What'dya need, sweetheart?" he asked, glancing at the cup next to your bed, making sure it was still filled with water. "Hungry?"

"No," you said, shaking your head, but he looked at his watch and mentally did the math.

"You'll have to eat somethin' soon with your meds, what can I make you?" he asked, and you shook your head again.

"Can you please just lay with me for a while?"

He hesitated but you reached out to drag your fingertips against his wrist, urging him closer to the bed, and he gave in.

"Alright, only for a few minutes," he said, rounding the end of the bed and collapsing onto the covers with a groan, sliding his eyes closed in relief.

"I wish you'd rest more," you murmured after you gingerly rolled yourself onto your side so you could look at him. "I'm worried about you."

He chuckled and turned his head to the side to look at you in disbelief.

"You're worried about me? You're jokin', right?"

You reached out to lightly brush a stray curl away from his eyes, choosing not to reply. You knew it would be a losing battle anyway.

"Can't rest," he said, staring at you with his eyes all soft. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to rest again."

"Why?" you asked, your brow furrowing.

He shook his head, his eyes still pinned on yours and you watched them slowly fill with tears. You gave him a look of concern and inched a bit closer to cup his face, the pad of your thumb swiping over his rough beard as you waited for him to open up.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, his voice thick as he tried to hold back his tears. "It's all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault -"

"I keep lettin' you down. Over and over again," he continued, a tear slipping down his cheek. "And I just wanna tell you that I understand now. 'Bout all of it. Why you're so scared 'bout havin' a family or gettin' married. And it's fine, I won't bring it up again, alright?"

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" you asked, searching his face for answers.

"I can't - " he paused and took a deep breath before trying again. "I can't take care of us. I thought I could but it's clear I can't when all this bad shit keeps happenin'. But if you'll still have me, I'll be right here, okay? I'll take whatever you wanna give me, I don't care 'bout any of that other shit anymore. I just want you."

"Slow down," you said, trying to wrap your fatigued mind around what he was saying. Your grip on his jaw tightened before you continued. "You never let me down, do you understand me? You are the only fucking thing that kept me going the past few years. Without you, I would be dead. I would have died that very first day. I owe you my life, Joel. How do you not see that?"

He just shook his head, refusing to accept what you were saying, so you kept going.

"I should have just been honest with you, but it took me a while to figure out why I was so scared about - "

"You don't need to explain - "

"Let me finish," you said, and he clamped his mouth shut. "It's not you, Joel. Well, it is. But not for the reason you think."

He frowned, blinking back tears as he waited for you to continue.

"It's because I love you so much that it scares me." You could feel your own tears forming now, but you tried to push through. "If something were to happen to you out there and I was left all alone, I don't know how I could go on." You swiped away a few tears that fell as you spoke. "And I'm terrified of getting married because if you die, that day will haunt me, Joel. Every single year when the anniversary comes, I - "

You stopped for a moment, your breaths coming in short gasps. He tried to shush you and pull you closer, but you shook your head.

"I'm not strong enough," you finished with a small sob. This time, you let him pull you into his chest while his big hands cradled the back of your head, patting down your hair, soothing you.

"Does that make sense?" you blubbered, pulling back to look at him.

He nodded slowly, his eyes raking down your face.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Thought I wasn't gonna get you back after they took you. Thought I lost you forever."

The two of you sat in silence for a minute, lost in each other's eyes, the truth finally spoken and swirling around the quiet room as you both clung to the other, just grateful to be alive.

"But you did get me back," you finally said, breaking the silence. "You did that. You saved me. Again." You ran your finger gently over his bottom lip and he gave the tip of your finger a little kiss.

"You might think you can't keep me safe, but in reality, you are the only reason I'm still here." The puzzle was finally piecing together in your mind as you spoke.

"That's not true," he said immediately. "Every situation that's put you at risk could've been avoided if I had protected you more. I wouldn't have to save you if I didn't put you in harm's way in the first place."

"But this is the world we live in, Joel. None of us will ever truly be safe ever again. And it's not because of something you did. It's just a really shitty hand we were all dealt and now we have to figure out a way to make the most of it and survive." You paused for a moment, something in your brain finally clicking as the words came tumbling out.

"We can't let fear run our lives," you said softly.

He looked at you, your gaze fixed on the wall behind him as what Maria said so long ago finally made sense. It was like you were seeing through the fog. Like a weight was lifted off your shoulders and you could breathe deeply for the very first time.

It took you and Joel to finally have a raw and honest conversation, but you thought you understood what she meant now.

"You okay?" Joel asked, clearly confused. You let your gaze fall back to him and you grinned.

"Yeah," you said breathlessly, then tugged him forward so you could press your lips against his, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to hold him against you.

You weren't afraid anymore.

A few days later, you woke up to the sound of the front door downstairs swinging shut. Your eyes snapped open and you strained your ears, trying to listen to the muffled words through the closed bedroom door.

"Told ya to be quiet, she's tryin' to sleep," you heard Joel say.

"Sorry, the fucking wind took the door from me and this stupid backpack is so heavy. Why do I even need to go to school? Who cares about this stuff anymore?"

"I do, 'cause it keeps you out of trouble and outta my hair."

"Ha, yeah right. You know both those things are impossible, old man," you heard Ellie scoff.

"How the hell old do you think I am?"

"The way you can barely read the instructions on the back of that pasta box? You don't want me to answer that."

You grinned as you listened to the two of them bicker amongst themselves. You weren't sure when it happened, but at some point in the past several weeks, Joel and Ellie finally seemed to have a breakthrough in their relationship. You wanted to ask, but you didn't want to draw attention to it. The two of them were so alike in so many ways that you knew if you pointed it out, they would pull back and stop making progress. So in the meantime, you just enjoyed listening and watching them whenever you got the chance.

With a small grunt, you pushed yourself off the mattress and swung your legs over the side of the bed, taking a moment to catch your breath before reaching out and using the end table to support your weight so you could stand. Walking was getting easier; the worst part was still the healing gash in your thigh. Bill said the knife one of Amy's men used must have cut through some muscle, so you were slowly building your strength back up by taking very short walks around your bedroom every day.

With small, careful steps, you managed to get to your bedroom door and open it quietly, listening to Ellie helping Joel make spaghetti in the kitchen while she told him about her day. You stopped at the top of the stairs and peered down.

"Ellie?" you called out softly.

You heard a spoon clatter on the counter and Joel's heavy footsteps jog to the foot of the stairs. He looked up at you with a towel in his hand, worry etched across his face. Ellie quickly joined him and looked up at you with a grin.

"What's wrong? Why're you up?" Joel asked, taking the steps two at a time.

"Nothing!" you said with a smile as he reached the top and wrapped an arm around you gently to help steady you. "I just wanted to see Ellie."

"I thought you were asleep," she said, bounding up the stairs.

"C'mon, let's get back to bed," Joel urged. You sighed and allowed him to lead you back to the bedroom, but you chose to sit on the edge of the bed instead of getting back under the covers like he clearly wanted you to do.

"Come on, tell me what's going on out there. Joel's not much of a gossip," you told Ellie with a wink, and Joel huffed somewhere behind you, fixing the sheets.

"Well, Maria wants to get married the second you're back on your feet. Says she wants to do it before she starts showing," Ellie started, and you felt the mattress dip with Joel's weight next to you.

"Yeah, she told me that already. What else? How's school?"

"It's alright. I met a few girls, we hang out sometimes."

"That's great!" you told her, happy that she was acclimating well. "How's Julia?"

Ellie sighed and rolled her eyes at the mention of the older school teacher who graciously let her live with her.

"She's nice, but she's just got such strict rules. I've gotten into it with her a couple times when I was late for curfew," Ellie admitted, looking down at her fingers twisting in her lap.

"It's important that you listen to her, y'know. She's just lookin' out for you," Joel said softly, and you had to tuck your chin against your chest to hide your smile. He was so sweet with her now, like he had known her his whole life, and it took some time getting used to hearing it.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ellie said sullenly. "I just get so bored. She spends her evenings planning her lessons or knitting. Knitting! It's so quiet over there, I feel like I'm going to lose my mind."

"Well, why don't you move in with us?" Joel asked with a shrug. Both you and Ellie froze, your eyes widened in shock. You slowly turned your head to the side to look at him, unable to form words.

"What?" he asked, swiveling his head back and forth when neither of you said anything.

You were about to respond when Ellie jumped up excitedly, about to wrap her arms around Joel's shoulders, then stopped herself.

"Really? Can I?" Her eyes darted between you both, a huge grin plastered across her face.

"Yeah," you said breathlessly with a nod. "Yeah, of course you can." You tried your best to blink back the tears that were quickly forming.

The three of you heard some hissing coming from downstairs and Joel leapt up, muttering about the water for the pasta as he clattered quickly down the steps, leaving just you and Ellie.

"Holy shit," she said, still grinning.

"Uh, yeah, 'holy shit' is right," you said with a chuckle.

"You didn't have anything to do with that?"

"Me? Nope," you said, quickly shaking your head. "Although it was on my mind, I just never found the right time to talk to him about it."

"Wow," she muttered, sitting on the bed next to you. "Guess he doesn't hate me, after all."

"Told you," you said, nudging her shoulder with your own.

You sat in silence for a moment, deep in thought while you listened to Joel muttering to himself in the kitchen. A smile played across your lips at the sheer domesticity of it. A feeling that you never thought you would get to experience just fell into your lap when you least expected it.

"I never got a chance to ask," you began, and Ellie turned her attention back towards you. "Does anyone else know?"

She shook her head.

"When you were passed out in the truck on the way back, Joel told me he had to tell Tommy and Maria but then he got so distracted with you at the infirmary that I guess he never got around to it."

You hummed and nodded, wondering if Joel truly forgot or if he changed his mind. Either way, you knew it would have to come out some day, but you had hoped it would be on Ellie's terms.

"And what did he tell Tommy? About the Fireflies?"

"The truth. Well, mostly. Just left out a few things. He told him they were working on a vaccine and that they kidnapped you, obviously."

"But how did he explain why they took me without telling him they really wanted you?" you asked, your pain killers making it tough to keep up.

"I told them they took people to experiment on," she said. "I thought that's what they were doing, anyway, at first."

You chewed your lip for a moment, eager to learn more but careful about pushing her too far.

"How did you guys find me?" you finally asked. You had tried to get the story out of Joel multiple times already, but he kept dodging the question, and the curiosity was getting the best of you.

Ellie's body stiffened next to you. She straightened her back as she took a sharp inhale of breath.

"He didn't tell you?"

You just shook your head slowly.

"Well, we, uh, went back to my aunt and uncle's house," she said, dropping her eyes to her lap. "He figured out they were the ones who called the Fireflies to come take you. Or, I guess me, but whatever."

"Oh," you said softly. You hadn't expected Ellie to know about any of that.

"It's alright, Joel told me after you were taken. That you thought they might've sold me off," she said, as if reading your mind.

"Ellie, I'm so sorry," you said, but she just shook her head.

"It's fine," she said, but you could see in her face she was hurt. After a moment, she added "it worked out in the end, right? I found you guys."

You gave her a tight smile as you felt the swell of emotions rising up your chest, squeezing your throat. You cared for Ellie so deeply that you were almost inclined to agree with her. Even though you were just as happy to have her in your lives, it still made you sick to think about what she had to endure to get there.

Then, you realized Ellie never elaborated about their return visit. You glanced over at her and wanted to ask, but decided against it. She looked upset enough, and if it was anything like you saw at the hospital, you preferred not to bring it up.

Joel startled you both by appearing silently in the doorframe.

"You girls ready to eat?"

Girls. The way he said it warmed your heart.

"So long as you didn't burn it," Ellie said teasingly as she stood up from the bed. "I'll bring some up for you," she said to you over your shoulder as she headed down the stairs.

"C'mon, lemme help you get back in bed and I'll get your tray," Joel said, but instead you held out a hand to stop him, making him look at you.

"Thank you," you whispered, cupping his face with both hands.

"For what?"

You smiled at him and he lifted an eyebrow at you, amused but curious.

"For giving me a family."

It took a few weeks, but your bones eventually healed and you were able to get back to work. Maria would only schedule you for half days and you argued that you could do more, but by the time you got home after only four hours, you had to admit you were exhausted.

Bill told you it would take some time for you to feel like yourself again, that it was completely normal and that you would need to build your strength back up. You had to constantly remind Joel you needed to start doing things for yourself, but he would still do whatever he could to keep you from getting up too much.

Joel heard you sigh from the bathroom and within seconds he was in the doorway, buttoning up his dress shirt with a tie draped loosely around his neck.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," you said quickly as you continued to stare into the mirror and fidget with your hair. "I can't get my hair to look the way I want it."

"I think you look beautiful," he said, sauntering over with his shirt still untucked to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, gazing at you in the mirror while he planted a quick kiss to your neck.

You sighed and tilted your head to the side, encouraging him to explore your neck more. You arched your back just a bit, pushing yourself back into his hips, causing his arms to stiffen around you.

"No funny business," he murmured against your skin, and you grinned.

"Not even a little funny business?" you teased, and you felt him chuckle lightly against your back.

"Nope. We're gonna be late," he said, pulling back suddenly but giving you a small tap on your ass with his palm before he walked away.

You glanced at the time and gasped quietly. He was right. Tommy and Maria's rehearsal dinner was in ten minutes, and even though it was just a handful of you at their house, you still didn't want to be late. Maria spent too much time planning this wedding and the last thing you were interested in doing was setting off the short fuse she had developed over the past couple weeks.

Quickly, you put on some old lipstick and fixed your dress before turning off the bathroom light. Joel was just finishing up knotting his tie, leaning forward a bit with his lips parted as he watched himself carefully in the mirror above your dresser and you had to resist the urge to push him down on the bed right then and there.

Ever since your energy slowly began coming back, so did your desire for Joel, but he was adamant about waiting until you were feeling better, which just left you feeling crazier by the day. You weren't sure if it was because you were finally on the mend, or maybe it had something to do with your breakthrough with him, but you found yourself feeling a lot needier than usual.

"Ready?" he asked you before running his fingers casually through his curls once more and walking over to you. You nodded, your lips pressed together as you glanced down at the blue shirt and navy slacks he picked out.

"You look good," you told him, your tone suggestive. He smirked and took your hand, leading you out of the bedroom.

"Ellie, we're leavin'," Joel called out to her, ignoring your compliment. "There's leftovers in the fridge!"

"Okay!" she called out, the sound of her music softly flowing through the floorboards as you made your way downstairs.

"Should we bring any pain killers in case you start gettin' sore?" Joel asked.

"No, I'll be fine."

"You sure? 'Cause-"

"Alright fine, we can bring them," you relented, just eager to get out of the house at this point. You pocketed them in your small purse and the two of you headed out towards Tommy and Maria's house, luckily arriving with two minutes to spare.

"How are you feeling?" you asked Maria as she greeted you with a warm hug.

"Me? What about you?" she said with a laugh.

"Oh, I'm fine! I want to hear all about you and what the future hellraiser is putting you through."

"She ain't fine," Joel said behind you, turning his head away from his brother. "Bill said-"

"Bill said I need to work on building up my strength. To me, that's fine," you told him, and he rolled his eyes.

"You two are so alike, it's scary, you know that?" Maria asked, leading you into the kitchen for a drink. You smiled and waved when you saw Carrie and Jake, along with Eugene and another woman who you thought was named Tina, but you couldn't quite remember, rounding out the rest of their wedding party.

"So really, how have you been feeling?" you asked her, taking the glass of wine she offered you.

"Nauseous, but it's getting a little better. And tired. Oh my god, I'm so tired all the damn time, it's crazy!"

"Oh, wow," you said, taking a sip before adding "you aren't even showing yet. How far along did Bill say you were?"

"I'm close to the end of the first trimester, thank god. He says that's when the nausea usually goes away and I should get some energy back," she said, checking the oven briefly before straightening back up. "But enough about me. How are you two?" she asked, nodding subtly towards Joel in the living room with Tommy and now Eugene.

"Better. Much better. We had a good talk after we got back, and I think we're on the same page," you said, glancing around the room at the others, making sure they were out of earshot.

"What page is that, exactly?" she pushed with a smirk.

"He's okay with not getting married or having kids," you replied with a noncommittal shrug. She narrowed her eyes at you and you frowned. "What?"

"Is that what you really want, though?"

"Well," you said, glancing around once again before lowering your voice. "I've come around to the whole marriage thing, but I don't really know how to tell him. I feel like I keep jerking him around and I don't know what to do."

"You need to be honest with him," she said immediately, and you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I just made this huge fuss -"

"It doesn't matter. This is your life, you have to do what's right. He might be confused at first but you know he will be so fucking ecstatic he will forget all about it, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," you said, glancing over your shoulder to watch him laugh with Tommy, a glass of whiskey in his hand. "I just need to figure out how to tell him."

"And kids?" she asked, causing you to whip your head back around.

"I'm not there yet. But maybe one day," you finally admitted, making her squeal out with excitement and causing the rest of the guests to look your way.

"Sorry! The chicken just came out perfectly!" Maria said with a giggle. You laughed with her as you locked eyes with Joel and he raised a curious eyebrow at you. You shrugged and gave him a quick smile before turning back to Maria.

"Alright, enough of that. What can I do to help?"

"You sure you ain't in any pain? Maybe you should take somethin' before bed," Joel said as he watched you wince when you leaned over to take your heels off.

"I'm okay, I promise. It's the damn shoes," you explained, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing your calf. "Was I this annoying when you were hurt?"

"Worse," he said with a grin before sitting down next to you and taking your legs over his lap, his own fingers taking over, rubbing the sore muscles and doing a far better job.

"Thank you," you said breathily as you closed your eyes and leaned forward so your head was resting on his shoulder. You sat in silence for a moment, his strong hands digging into your calves, content to be in your shared home with Ellie safe and sound, right down the hall.

"Joel?"

"Hm?"

"Something's different," you said softly, your eyes still closed.

"What'dya mean?" he murmured, his lips pressed against the top of your head.

"I feel... safe," you said, opening your eyes a bit and staring at the wall across from your bed, his fingers still working your legs.

"That's good, baby," he whispered.

"No, I mean..." you paused, searching for the words, not sure how to say it. "I mean I'm not scared anymore."

His fingers paused as he absorbed your words, trying to figure out what you were saying.

"That's... good," he repeated, not quite understanding. You sighed and tilted your face up to look at him, your arm stretching up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a soft kiss. Another time, you thought. You'll figure out how to explain it another time.

You slipped your tongue past his lips, your fingers raking through his hair as the hand that was once on your calf slowly migrated up past your knee and to your thigh. Greedily, you nipped at his bottom lip and leaned backwards so you were flat on the bed, Joel partially on top of you while your lips moved faster, leaving quick, desperate kisses against his mouth.

"Hang on," he whispered, but you kept going, your heart slamming in your chest. Now that you felt him on top of you again, it was sparking a fire between your legs.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked jokingly, pulling back a bit and pinning your wrists into the mattress, your chest heaving.

"Please, Joel," you begged, not caring how pathetic you sounded.

"C'mon, you know you ain't ready yet. You're still healing," he mumbled sweetly, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

"I am ready," you promised, but he just shook his head.

"We got a big day tomorrow," he whispered in your ear before sitting up, his weight no longer pressing against your upper half. "Let's just go to bed."

You pouted as you sat up next to him and he grinned.

"Ain't gonna work on me, sweetheart."

Then, an idea occurred to you. You shrugged and stood up, walking towards the bathroom as you slowly unzipped your dress, letting it pool at your feet only when you were in the safety of the small room. You turned around, hand on the door, only wearing your underwear as you took in Joel's slack jawed expression, his eyes slowly raking up and down your nearly naked frame.

"I'm gonna shower," you said quietly, his eyes still glued to your body. "You wanna join me?"

You could see the conflict in his face, trying so desperately to hold back and keep a clear head.

Finally, he forced himself to shake his head. You pouted again then shut the door, but not before sliding your underwear down your legs first, giving him a little show.

The water had barely gotten warm enough to step under the stream when he ripped open the shower curtain and stepped into the tub. You looked at him and smirked.

"I thought you said -"

He silenced you with his mouth covering yours, pushing you up against the cool tile while his knee slotted between your legs and his hand slowly drifted down your stomach. You gasped and smiled against his mouth when his fingers pressed exactly where you needed him.

"You need me that bad, huh?" he murmured against your mouth, and you nodded.

"Yes," you whined, arching your back off the wall, your wet body pressing up against his as his fingers dipped inside you and dragged them back out, smearing a mix of your arousal and water expertly over your clit.

"Can't be too loud, now," he reminded you, swallowing your breathless moans as his fingers circled faster. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding on tightly as he brought you to the edge way too quickly, months of not being touched by him finally coming to a head.

"Joel," you whispered, burying your face into his neck as you felt the muscles in your stomach tense. He wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you up just in time. Your legs went lax, your arms and Joel the only thing keeping you upright as you felt the coil in your belly snap, your sounds muffled against his skin and the water beating down around you.

"Better?" he asked when you finally found the strength to hold yourself back up. You nodded, your eyelids drooping, but you still slid your hand down his stomach. Right as you were about to wrap your fingers around him, he stopped you.

"Not tonight," he said, and you frowned. "It's late. We gotta get to bed."

If you weren't so exhausted, you would have put up a bigger fight. You leaned into him as he gently massaged shampoo into your hair, your eyes closed, blindly letting him direct you under the water to rinse before he got started on your body, his strong hands spreading the soap over your skin in circles.

He helped you get out of the tub and wrapped you in a towel as he dried your hair, his own body dripping water all over the floor. You lazily watched him work, a slow smile creeping across your face. He noticed and raised an eyebrow at you.

"I like it when you take care of me," you explained, and you swore you saw a little bit of pink dust his cheeks. He led you to bed, tucking the cool sheets around you as he brushed your damp hair away from your eyes. "Want you to take care of me forever," you mumbled as your eyes slid shut. He smiled, then his hand froze as his lips pursed in thought.

I feel safe.

I'm not scared anymore.

He finally understood what you were trying to tell him, and his heart began to flutter excitedly in his chest.

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itsmealaiah · 14 days

Text

"helping hand"

TW: masturbation, profanity, nudity, fingering, sex over video call, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, degrading, sub tom

Request: phone sex with tom please when he’s out for tour he like jerks off but it doesn’t work so he calls y/n requests her to facetime and they masturbate together 🥰 sub tom please! where he’s like begging and whinces a lot and dirty talking?

Rating: mature themes ahead!

WC: 0.7k

I'm sorry if this is short you guys, i've just been trying to be more on top of school and i've had a huge writers block; but i hope you enjoy 🤍

Why did it not work?

Tom thought to himself, alone in his bunk of the tour bus as he desperately tried to make himself cum. The erection he currently had was not going away, and it was very painful. Each time he tried to rub one out, it failed. He huffed, and pouted.

It was late where you were in los angeles, you were asleep in bed, hugging tom's pillow as you slept on his side, missing him more and more each day. His natural scent was slowly drifting away from the room a little bit more every time you did this, and you hated it.

He was on the verge of calling you, but he was hesitant. He knew what time it was there, and he didn't want to disturb your rest. But again, he was desperate, and his mind wasn't fully functioning how it normally should, release the only thing on his lustful mind.

His thumb grazed over your number, debating whether or not to call you. Eventually he just decided to, and waited for you to answer. "t-tom? whats wrong?" you mumbled sleepily, picking up your phone, the bright screen nearly blinding you. You rubbed your eyes, and they became more clearer. "i need help" he pleaded, his voice whiny.

You were confused, until you realized what he meant. "tom, it's three in the morning, can't you take care of it yourself?" you argued, becoming less drowsy. "t-that's the thing, i can't. i don't know why" he answered honestly, a little bit confused himself. "what do you mean you can't do it by yourself?" you yawned.

"i mean i cannot cum, y/n, what the fuck else do you think that means?" he was annoyed, the erection only growing more painful. "fine fine jeez i'll help" you sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"start talking baby, please" he moaned, his free hand sliding down once more. "what about?" he thought for a second. "anything baby, i just need to hear your voice" he began to pump his shaft slowly. "mm, ok" you agreed, trying to decide what to say.

"start to rub up and down your cock tommy, like i always do" you commanded, and he obliged, spitting on his hand to lube it up just a bit more. "Now pump your shaft baby" you said as he moaned, finally getting some pleasure. He slid his hand up and down, his hips jerking up as his locks fell over his face, shadowing his eyes.

"Lean the camera down baby, i wanna see how good you're doing" you smiled, and he whimpered, facing the camera to his leaky, red cock, his hand engulfing his member as you smiled, watching him pleasure himself.

You slowly dipped your own free hand into your shorts, gathering some wetness and plunging two fingers into your already sopping hole. "k-keep going tommy, show me how good you are" you stuttered, your mouth wide open in pleasure as he kept the camera on his cock.

"am i doing good?" he panted, feeling his orgasm come close. "yes baby, keep going, you're doing very well" you tried not to moan, as you kept on fingering yourself to the sight of his cock.

You hit your g-spot, your fingers beginning to curl in a 'come here' motion as you groaned, tom, fortunately, not noticing. He was so caught up in making himself cum he didn't care about anything else.

"A-almost there, m-mngh" a throaty moan escaped his parted lips, his balls now heavy with cum, his face doused with sweat. He didn't stop his ministrations, needing to release, after multiple attempts of this. You were close too, but you didn't want to let him know. The camera began to shake, and you knew he was coming.

He let out a loud groan, cum spurting out of the hot-pink tip, leaking onto his balls and lower abdomen as he sighed, his body jerking up as he rode out his high. You finally released as well, your body shaking from the orgasm as you sighed, and smiled. "thank you baby" he breathed out, happy he could relieve himself.

"No problem tommy, i'm going back to bed, i love you" you smiled, and hung up on the call, tucking yourself back in, cuddling into his pillow once more.

Taglist 1: @madzandmore @20doozers @itsangelll @tomssexdoll

Taglist 2: @charliesgoodboy @tokio-motel @kqulitzlvr @tomsonlyslut

Taglist 3: @ballhair @estxkios @ccbunnv @billsdolliest @cherry-rawr

Requests are open! keep sending them in!

Comment on masterlist post to be tagged!

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tokiohotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x y/n #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #itsmealaiah

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mintedwitcher · 25 days

Note

Honestly ATP I'm 100% that Tommy is around so gone on Buck that I'm scared for him a lil ngl askskdkd like baby protect your heart a bit, yeah? God knows i love Buck but that boy has an abysmal track record when it comes to romantic relationships.

Anyways I wanna wrap this stadge of their relationship in a blanket coz it's so sweet and I'm just loving it.

In Buck's defence, his abysmal track record is more to do with his partners than himself.

Abby ghosted him. Ali dumped him because he wouldn't leave his job after the truck bomb and she couldn't handle it. Taylor manipulated him, used him and his friends for intel on a story to boost her own career with no thought for the consequences (and before they dated she used and manipulated him for sex). And Natalia was only ever interested in him for his death.

None of that is Buck's fault.

As for Tommy.... I think he IS still protecting himself, as much as he can with how smitten he is about Buck. Tommy called off their first date because he could see how uncomfortable Buck was, and realised that Buck wasn't ready yet. Tommy took the step back and left the ball in Buck's court, leaving the decision about their relationship entirely in Buck's hands. And since then, he has been careful with Buck.

You can see in the cafe date scene that he's tense, he's holding himself stiffly for most of the interaction because he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. The "I like you, but." The "I can't do this." Or worse, the "As long as no one knows, okay?" Because let's be real, if you're queer and dating, you've probably heard some variation of all three of those statements before. And so Tommy is nervous. He's got his hands in his lap. His shoulders are tight. He's joking along and teasing but he's not Fully there yet and you can SEE it. It's not until Buck says "I think that something could be with you" that he actually breathes and relaxes, even as he double checks.

In the bachelor party scene, Tommy could have greeted Buck with a cheek kiss or something chaste like that. They're basically alone. Eddie knows they're together so they're not accidentally outing anyone. But he goes for a hug. It's tender and sweet still but it's Just a hug. It's not even a long one. Tommy's still playing it safe. He likes Buck so much and Buck visibly lights up when he sees Tommy, but Tommy isn't about to go rushing in. When he leaves the party he makes sure Buck knows that it's actually about a call - he even shows Buck his phone as proof - and leaves with another hug.

Tommy's protecting himself, but he's also protecting Buck. And that makes me a particular kind of feral. Because Buck has always been the type to cling. Only now, he has someone who wants to cling right back.

#asks #anon #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #i had more to say but i lost it

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kechiwrites · 9 months

Text

light of day toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader part 6/?

synopsis: trust is hard to build when the foundation is so shaky, and while you and simon certainly aren’t on the same page, at least you can stand to be in the same bookstore.

wc: 2.5k

cw: afab!reader, some fluff and domesticity, very light angst, hurt and comfort, language, you and simon sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, heavy petting, trust issues, tommy being the light of both your lives, no gendered language. no use of y/n ever.

author’s note: long time no see! this is a direct continuation to white flag. I strongly recommend you read it first, hell you may wanna reread it, it has been a while. thank you all sm for your love and patience, it means a lot that you're still interested in this lil 'verse.

new to baby blue? start here.

Navigating around Ghost in the morning is bizarre. A new reality you aren’t quite sure you’re ready for. Your son, to his credit, takes it in stride, opening your bedroom door and beaming at the sight of his father laying next to you.

It’s hard to stave off more tears when Ghost doesn’t miss a beat, sliding out of your sheets and whisking Tommy up into his arms, while the little boy lets him know that Sundays are always for pancakes, and how you make the best ones, and how he’s just so happy “dad will get to try them!”

They leave the bedroom door wide open, allowing you to hear the rumble of Ghost’s answer, but not necessarily the words. Tommy’s laugh chimes in afterward, like tinkling glass and carefree joy.

You’re uncharacteristically slow to rise. You blame it on having someone else to divert Thomas’ attention so early in the morning. Someone to listen to his early morning babble and chime in with appropriately timed ‘hmm’s and ‘is that so’s. It’s nice. Paralyzingly nice. Fills your chest with this balmy, uncertain kind of calm, one you haven’t felt…maybe ever, Certainly not since you’ve had Tommy.

When you do finally get up, Tommy is already directing his dad on what to take out of the fridge, boasting about how helpful he is when it was just you and him.

“Best sous chef within a hundred miles!” You scoop up your son, nuzzling your face into his neck while he screams between peals of laughter, wiggling in your hold. You catch Ghost staring at you, the both of you, with the weird look on his face, it's inscrutable, like he wants to smile but doesn't think he should? Maybe he can’t? It wouldn’t surprise you. Either way, you ignore it, spinning Tommy in a circle before you approach his father. You extend your baby as best you can towards him (he's way too big for you to be holding him like an infant, but old habits die really, really hard). Ghost holds his arms out to receive him, handling Tommy's weight better than you do, shifting the boy under his arm like a sack of potatoes. Father and son leave the kitchen to you, opting to sit in the living room and entertain each other (meaning Tommy will likely do whatever he wants, and Ghost will pretend he has the will to stop him). Immediately, the four year old digs in the toy box you keep near the sofa, his body half inside the plastic tub. You start mixing the components into pancake batter while Tommy tells Ghost the names of his toys, a seminar during which Ghost nods seriously, affirming he's listening when Tommy inquires after his attention.

“What do you want in your pancakes?” You ask, leaning over the kitchen island to peer at the blond, who has Tommy strewn across his legs, smashing plastic dinosaurs together. His confusion, his wariness is a picture, honestly, you could almost laugh.

“Plain’s fine.” He responds, and Tommy unhelpfully shouts; “Ew dad! Plain’s gross!” before he brings a plesiosaur up to his father’s face, making the toy reptile kiss his dad’s cheeks.

Your expression is a mirror of your son’s when you grimace at the soldier.

“Plain is gross.” You keep eye contact with him as you toss a heavy handful of chocolate chips into the batter.

He shrugs, standing and letting Tommy hang on to his bicep, his little feet dangling and kicking in the air, an impressive move that has the boy squealing with laughter.

The batter sizzles in your frypan, a warped, scratched, old thing that’s definitely seen better days. The non-stick has worn off from years of use, but you manage to scrape the pancakes off the surface and flip them back down.

The vintage radio on your coffee table sputters out a scratchy, slightly distorted version of an upbeat pop song, surprising you. It’d been mostly decorative, a cute little brown and white centerpiece for your, frankly, feeble living room set up. Tommy croons out of tune over the music, and you can’t stave off the smile while you plate more breakfast.

Simon must’ve been fiddling with it.

You have to talk. You know you have to talk. About the night before. About the future, whatever that future even looks like. So when Tommy’s maple syrup sugar high succumbs to the inevitable crash, you tuck him in for a nap and return to sit next to Simon. Closer to him than usual. Close enough that he can cover your knee with his palm, and when he does, the calloused skin is so hot you worry he might have a fever, his body overheating in response to processing more emotion than he probably has in the last ten years.

“I appreciate you…staying this morning.” You start, and when he turns to face you his eyes are fathomless, dark brown and so painfully familiar. Immediately, you bury the sentiment in safe territory under ten tonnes of dirt; “Tommy was happy to spend the morning with you. Doesn’t usually get that.”

You feel like a coward, even though you have every right to be scared, to hide how you're feeling from your son’s father.

Simon, to his credit, merely bobs his head and gruffs back to you; “Thanks for asking me to.”

And you did ask him, didn’t you? You finally asked for something of him, and he’d given it so freely it had shocked you. Scared you so bad, you poured your heart out in response, finally laid it all on the table for him to gawk at, to poke at, to ‘hmm’ and ‘ahh’ over.

And it had felt good, in the light of day.

You can’t stop staring at his hand on your knee, his skin overwritten with plenty of silverskin scars, crisscrossing over each other, puckered and healed. When you drag your fingers over them, you find two you don’t recognize, two injuries he must have gotten somewhere far from here, some place far away where problems like teething and daycare and tantrums must have seemed so small, so insubstantial.

You’re surprised you could identify them as new, and you follow the longer one up his arm, flipping his wrist over, pushing up his sleeve, and tracing it with your finger until it ends near the crook of his elbow, running parallel to a vein in his forearm. Simon’s exhale is shaky, rattling out of his chest, uneven and fast like he’s been holding his breath. You raise your head and just fucking stare. Catalogue the halted, cautious look in his eye, the way his mouth is downturned and tense.

And then, all at once, you’re all over him. Grabbing at the collar of his shirt and pressing kisses to that uncertain mouth, plastering your chest to his and falling apart with wanting.

You used to do it all the time. Sit on this same leather sofa and kiss him, half in and half out of his lap, with your arms wrapped around his neck, only breaking your hold to slap at his hands whenever he tried to escalate. And he always tried to escalate, because he “didn’t come over to make out like 13 year olds”. But you knew deep down he liked it. Like being pliable in your hands, letting his ever present guard down, liked when your lips skimmed his throat and when you bit down, sucking bruises into his pale skin.

“Do you ever get any sun?” You’d said, teasing, pulling away from his exposed jaw. You’re home, both of you, after he’d taken you out for the first time. To a pub. To meet his workmates. Not friends, he’d spoken vehemently, and you suspected from the way Johnny MacTavish (Soap, he’d wanted to be called) had stared at you, bug-eyed and disbelieving, Ghost didn’t really consider anyone his friend. Maybe not even you. Talk about a red fucking flag.

“Enough.” And whether he’d been answering your question or just voicing his frustration with the lack of action, you never found out, opting instead to submit to searching hands and the straining fly of his pants. You let him spread you out and take.

Now, Ghost doesn’t try anything. Now, with four years and endless bullshit between you, he lets you do what you want. You aren’t quite sure what he’s trying to prove, what all this; the pancakes, the sleeping over, the fucking book, means. You just know you don’t want to think too hard about it. Don’t want to ruin what could very well be a ceasefire during a war you were painfully ill-equipped for.

He stays still, lets you kiss him, lets you pull and touch and take. Lets you drag your tongue over the edge of his teeth. He’s hard, and under the hand you have on his chest his heart thumps erratically, hummingbird fast. With your other hand you take hold of one of his wrists, urging him to touch you, anywhere. He takes the gift, pressing his digits into your thigh and crowding in close. One of his hands finds your throat, settles at the base where it slopes into your shoulder. You aren’t quite sure who deepens the kiss, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter when Simon pulls you into his lap, biting at your bottom lip and chasing your tongue with his own. He groans his contentment into your mouth, letting his fingers slip into the waistband of your pants before they stall in a rare bout of hesitation.

He tries to pull away, probably means to say something, but you don’t give him the chance. Instead, you nod jerkily, pressing your face to his collarbone, using both hands to pull down the neck of his shirt so you can mark the expanse of scarred skin. You’re desperate, and it shows in your actions, how you sink your teeth into his skin, how you grind down against the hard column of his cock, straining against his fly. All of it speaks to just how bad you want this, want him. Just how badly you want to forget any of it ever happened in the first place..

All the crying and confessing, the slow, soft, silent domesticity of your morning together and the familiarity of making out on your worn, cream coloured couch, compound together. It has you crying out in defeat, in relief, in pleasure when Simon pushes his hand underneath your clothes, slides his fingers against your clit, rubbing slow sure circles that force gasps from between your lips. He murmurs into your throat, not really saying much of anything, just whispering your name, humming and sighing while he pushes your underwear to the side, dragging his fingertips over your entrance, tracing your hole until you shudder with need.

“C'mon, c’mon.” You urge quietly, shifting your hips so he has easier access. His fingers are deep within you and so goddamn thick. Blunt, calloused and moving so slowly, fucking into you and revelling in how you bear down, tightening like a fist around him. You can feel how soaked you’re making his hand, the slick noise fills the room around you, a perfect accompaniment to the heavy breathing between you. You shift so you’re able to unzip his pants and put your hand on his cock, the warm length searing the skin of your palm. His hips jerk up to meet you, fucking the soft circle formed by your fingers and his head falls back, allowing you to nip at his Adam’s apple. It must feel very good, because he forgets he’s in the middle of fingering you for a while. Just lies back and chases his peak, to which you think, fuck that. You stroke down to his groin, and linger there, squeezing at his base until he gets the idea. Soon both of you are moving in tandem, teasing each other under your clothes like teenagers. Like two people who like each other, who can’t keep their hands off each other long enough to undress. Like two people without trust issues, and arguments, and the looming fear of being abandoned. Your peak hits you fast, crashing down on you in waves, unrelenting, over and over. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, your mouth basically plastered to the skin there, using your lips to deduce just how fast his heart is beating, how close he is.

Simon spills over your hand soon after, his cock twitching in satisfaction, his chest rising and falling in time with your own laboured breaths. The room is at a standstill, and the quiet sits between you, pleading with you to interrupt the slowing pattern of your breathing, nagging you to say something. Something that will fix everything. Because it has always been your job to fix the problems, to fix him.

You open your mouth, to joke, to sigh, to say or do something that’ll diffuse the tight, anxious, aching sensation in your chest but Simon beats you to it.

“The book was good.” He mumbles, letting his head fall back, until it’s resting on the back of the couch, rather than remaining nested in the hollow of your throat.

“You finished it?” It’s hard not to smile when he nods the affirmative, the bodice-ripper had to be at least 20 years old, maybe more; a relic you’d uncovered from the take-one-leave-one library at the local laundromat. The Rancher and the Runaway had a strapping blond cowboy and his brunette virgin charge on the cover, locked in a passionate embrace. It was smut, good smut, barely held together by family drama.

And Simon had finished it. He’d liked it.

The very idea starts a fit of near hysterical laughter in you, so bad it jump-starts a bout of short-breathed hiccups.

“Okay, okay wait.” You huff, clutching your stomach in-between cackles. “Which brother is your favourite?” You cover your mouth with the hand not covered in drying come when he glares at you, your shoulders shaking with glee. His dick is hanging out of his pants and your clothes are rumpled and half removed, the both of you smelling of sex and each other, but somehow, that just makes it funnier.

You bet it’s fucking Garth.

“Garth.” He rumbles, and you fucking howl.

disclaimer: reader’s opinion on pancakes are not my own, i fuckin love plain pancakes. also the rancher and the runaway is a real romance novel, not technically a bodice ripper but i recommend it if you like harlequin romance and cowboys. If u read it come tell me. series masterlist here

support city girls, reblog what u like

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

Note

Omg mcyt when their crush asks them out, but the reader is just surprising chill? Like, it's so casual it's insane just a "Hey, you wanna go out sometime?" while scrolling through sm and chillling lmao

oooooo okay okay I see the vision ; thank you for requesting!!

MCYT ; nonchalant ask-out

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, & quackity

warnings ; language

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you were sitting on the train to go visit some friends for a stream

you were sitting next to the window, facing the back of the train, while he was on the opposite side, also sitting next to the window, although his backpack was perched so he could rest an arm on top of it

you turn to him and just kinda ask as you're passing a field of cows

"you wanna go bowling sometime? like, as a date? it's fine if you don't wanna" you shrug

Tommy just blinks as his cheeks get a little red

"Uh, sure. I mean, yeah!"

you guys get to where you're going and while he's with tubbo, more secluded from you, tells him about it

"y/n like, casually asked me out on the train and I said yes! I don't know what happened, it was so weird"

"they're concerningly laid back about everything, you know this"

"...true"

TUBBO

you were at a conservatory (flower museum basically) and enjoying all the pretty flowers and plants

you turn to him like "Hey, would you ever go out on a date with me?"

he's silent for a moment before he responds

"is there a right answer?"

"genuine question"

"uh... sure"

he just texts Tommy like "bro y/n just casually asked me out at the flower place wtf"

he's slightly concerned but you enjoy the rest of your time at the conservatory and get a bunch of great pictures

RANBOO

you were doing a stream watching flushed away

lots of laughter and fucking around considering you were on the couch sitting next to each other with a camera in front of you

"what is happening right now???"

"hey, Ran?"

"hm?"

"you wanna go to dinner sometime? like a date?"

chat explodes and you're trending on Twitter before he can even respond

"uhm, uh, yeah, sure"

"cool"

they later tweet a "that was unscripted, and weird. y/n is never streaming w me again"

you reply with "yeah, sure pal"

"okay y/ns steaming w me tmr night stay tuned!!"

FREDDIE BADLINU

you guys + harry were making puppets at his place for a little prank, and making your friends into puppets as well

you were making him while he was making Tommy, and harry was making kermit (??), making some conversation for the camera

you're mostly working on the floor next to Harry because the table wasn't big enough for the three of you

you look up and just kinda blurt it out

"Hey, Freddie, you wanna go rollerskating sometime?"

harrys the first to speak "what the hell?"

"sorry, bad time"

"wh-no, actually, I'd love too" Freddie smiles

he later edits that with some music like it's 2019, pixel meme glasses and all

"got a date, wwwww"

NIKI NIHACHU

you were both playing on the qsmp, and taking care of em

niki passed over some food bc you were building something for her and ran out of food

"Hey, niki, would you ever go on a date with me?"

"wh- oh, uh, I mean, yeah!"

"cool"

her chat explodes and so does yours LMAO

ppl clip it and it's a hot topic on qsmp tumblr for a week or so

you tweet after stream "date ideas, GO"

niki responds with "you have to come here first, y/n/n 😭"

ALEX QUACKITY

you were out exploring the city together for a little vlog on your alt channel

you were talking and having a good time and whatnot, exploring stores and restaurants and parks

"hey, Alex, would you ever like, date me, I guess?"

"yeah- I mean, uhm, I guess so"

"cool"

when you guys get back to the hotel he instantly gets on a call w some friends, whom are streaming, and quickly rants about it, leaving you nameless tho

you see the clipped bit on YouTube the next day and can't help but smile cause honestly w move

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #quackity x reader #badlinu x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #niki nihachu x reader #nihachu x reader #tubbo x reader #alex quackity x reader #quackityhq x reader #mcyt x gn reader

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glorious-spoon · 26 days

Text

tell me all the things that i wanna hear [9-1-1 | Buck/Tommy; Buck/Eddie | 1/1]

1.3k words | feelings realization | episode tag

about a week ago i wrote this post about an eddie feelings realization at the bachelor party, so naturally after last night's episode i had to write the fic.

tell me all the things that i wanna hear [on AO3]

He doesn't remember it right away.

Which is… not surprising, probably. The bachelor party that wasn't marks the drunkest he's been since before Chris was born, possibly the drunkest he's ever been in his life. He wakes up in a bathtub shirtless and so hungover that he wants to die, and then they discover that Chimney is missing, and it's a long, stressful, terrifying fucking day that keeps Eddie way too busy to focus on any of the garbled flashes of memory from last night. Busting down a hotel door and shouting off-key karaoke at Buck and tilting sloppily together while they poured each other shots—stupid party shit that he's honestly too old for. They're definitely going to owe the hotel damage fees out the ass.

But in the end, Chim is okay. Or, if not okay, at least safely ensconced in a hospital bed. Eddie leaves to pick Chris up from Pepa's and he's still there, shooting the shit with his abuela and slowly sipping his fourth Gatorade of the day in the hopes that it'll settle his stomach enough for him to eat dinner, when he gets the text from Buck that the wedding is still on and he needs to get his ass back to the hospital. So he packs Chris in the car, and doesn't fight it when his abuela also insists on coming—Pepa waves them off with an indulgent smile—and doesn't allow himself to be relieved that the short notice means he has an excuse not to mention it to Marisol.

It's a beautiful wedding, in the end. Perfectly imperfect, in the way all the best things in life are. Eddie gets a little teary-eyed when Chim and Maddie slip the rings onto each other's fingers, and he claps with all the rest, and he just happens to glance up in time to see a flash of blue as Buck slips out the door.

For a moment, he considers following, but Karen nearly trips bringing the cake in, so Eddie jumps in to catch her before tonight can turn into any more of a catastrophe than it already is. From there, there's the usual party bustle of divvying up cake and passing out paper plates, and he forgets about Buck for a little while, at least until he tugs Tommy through the door, the both of them beaming like fools and covered in soot in a way that makes it very fucking obvious what Buck just spent the last twenty minutes doing with his mouth.

Eddie doesn't remember it then, either. He snickers while he watches the rest of the room catch on, while Buck introduces Tommy around to the people who don't already know him, and he catches Buck by the arm as he's making his way over to the cake.

"You might want to go wash your face there, bud," he says.

"What?" Buck blinks at him. Then he rubs at his cheek, and looks at his sooty hand, and goes bright red. "Oh. Um. Shit."

"Yeah."

"I was wondering why…" To Eddie's relief, he's laughing. "Well, that's one way to come out to everybody. Right?"

Eddie laughs. "I guess so. You feeling alright about it?"

"Yeah," Buck says. He glances over to where Tommy is talking to Chim and Maddie. Like he sensed it, Tommy glances up and grins brilliantly at him, and Eddie watches something in Buck's expression go soft and warm and pleased. "Yeah. I'm—I'm feeling really, really good about it."

Eddie's heart gives a funny little thump in his chest. He pats Buck's arm, then lets go. "Well, good. Happy for you, man."

"Thanks, Eddie." Just for a moment, Buck turns that soft expression on him. Then he says, "I'm gonna, uh, go wash up. Save me some cake!"

"Sure," Eddie says, but Buck's already gone. He threads through the crowd to Tommy's side, says something in a low voice to him that makes him laugh and Chim put a long-suffering hand over his eyes. Then they're both moving toward the door together, Tommy's hand resting low on Buck's back.

"Dad, can I have another slice of cake?"

He looks down at Chris. "I don't know, mijo, it's kind of…"

"Come on."

"Alright, fine," Eddie says, caving, if only so he doesn't keep looking at the door that Buck and Tommy left through.

They reappear a few minutes later, freshly scrubbed, and Eddie watches Hen hug first Buck, and then Tommy, who looks startled but hugs her back. Then they head through the crowd together toward the cake. Their hands are linked together. Eddie decides that's a good moment to go give Maddie and Chim his congratulations.

He doesn't remember it then, either. It's not until later, when the crowd is finally trickling out ahead of the end of visiting hours and Maddie and Chim take turns hugging a sleepy Jee-Yun before handing her over to Mrs. Lee, that Buck sidles up to him.

"I'm gonna get going," he says. Then, to Chris, "Hey, Superman. Awesome party, huh?"

Chris shrugs, all studied adolescent indifference like he didn't insist on coming along. "It was okay. The cake was good."

"Actually, we should probably get going pretty soon too," Eddie says. "Abuela, you good?"

She flaps a hand at him and goes back to her conversation with Mr. Lee, and Buck says, "I'm gonna, uh, give Tommy a ride back to the station so he can drop off his gear."

He's blushing again. Eddie quirks an eyebrow at him. "Just to the station, huh?"

"Shut up," Buck mutters, but he looks pleased. He looks happy, the way a smile steals helplessly onto his face when he glances up at Tommy, who's standing by the door with his turnout coat slung over his arm, talking to Karen. Who glances up like he could tell Buck was looking at him, and smiles back.

"I mean it," Eddie says, instead of ribbing him some more. "I'm happy for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Buck mutters, slinging an arm over his shoulders and pulling him into a jostling half-hug. "I love you, man. You know that, right?"

Eddie tilts against him, his nose just bumping the edge of Buck's jaw, and that's when the memory hits him like a bullet, or a lightning bolt, or something equally sudden and devastating.

That couch in the hotel room. Sitting there with Buck's arm around his shoulders and one of Buck's legs flung over his knees—his shirt was gone by then, and Buck had lost his jacket, and Eddie could feel the warmth of his body through the thin tee he had on underneath. He was waving his hands as he spoke, jostling Eddie, and Eddie turned his face toward Buck and bumped his nose against his cheek just like he is now, and thought with perfect, sober clarity, I could kiss him right now. I want to kiss him.

He goes still. Buck must feel it, because he jostles Eddie a little, his warm, stubbled jaw rough against the bridge of Eddie's nose for just an instant before Eddie turns his head away. "Eddie? You good?"

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't look up at Buck. Isn't sure he could stand to see his face, this close: his blue eyes, his soft lips, he was just kissing Tommy, he wants Tommy, not you, and anyway you're not—you don't—you can't— "Yeah, I'm good. Just kinda hoping I never see another shot of tequila as long as I live."

"Oh, tell me about it," Buck says, and finally releases him. "In retrospect, that was so fucking dumb." "Swear jar," Chris remarks, without looking up from his Switch.

"Put it on my tab," Buck says, ruffling his hair. "See you guys later."

"Yeah, later," Eddie says, a beat too late. Buck doesn't seem to notice, thankfully. He gives Eddie a quick grin and heads back to where Tommy is waiting. Karen hugs him, and then Hen does, and Tommy waves at Eddie, who manages to gather the wherewithal to wave back. And then they're gone.

Eddie rubs his knuckles against his sternum, where a dull ache has taken up residence, then lets his hand and pulls a smile on before anyone can see.

#911 #911 spoilers #buddie #bucktommy #eddie diaz #evan buckley #tommy kinard #my fic

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cod-dump · 1 year

Note

Imagine how funny this shit would be if ghost's mom was scottish. Like- all the "english mactavish" is just simon being a (huge) little shit bc he understands what he's saying 100%. Ghost knows more scots gaelic than soap, soap would be livid. But also- si's ma moved to england (probably as a teen), met his dad, had him and tommy. Si's dad is a canon shitface so he was probably a real ass about her accent too. She wasn't allowed to use her scots slang or gaelic so her teaching simon was something just for them, one bit of defiance to the monster she married. It'd be very dear to simon. (He becomes gma mactavish's fave within seconds when he returns her gaelic greeting fluidly)

Your Mother’s Legacy

SoapGhost

___

He never liked the name ‘Riley’. It will always be his father’s name, not his. He was ‘Mr. Riley’ so when people refer to Ghost as such he cringes. He remembered sitting in Price’s office talking about it. He didn’t go there with any real purpose in mind, just to talk.

“I’ve been thinking about using my mother’s name.”

“‘Lieutenant Simon Osburn’. Has a ring to it.”

Ghost was deep into paperwork involving changing his name when Soap joined. Meeting a genuine Scot honestly excited Ghost. Growing up, when it was just Ghost and his mother, they would speak in Gaelic. She taught him slang while speaking in her real accent. Though Ghost remembered that accent being forced away by his father. His mother quickly picked up an English accent to keep him calm.

“Why did I marry such dirty hag who can’t even speak English!”

When Soap first rattled off some Scottish slang, Ghost don’t know what came over him.

“Speak English, MacTavish.”

Ghost hated how much he sounded like his father in that moment. He felt hot shame bubble up inside of him but Soap didn’t back down. He nagged him, pushed, kept speaking those ridiculous phrases that Ghost loved. Ghost gave him shit for it each time. But it turned from something his father would do to fond teasing that Soap admitted to liking one evening, nursing a beer.

“I thought you were just some piece of shite Brit. But now I don’t see that.”

Time blended together. One moment Ghost and Soap were arguing every second and the next they were laying in bed together, limbs tangled as they kept snoozing the alarm to give them more time to cuddle. One moment Ghost had maybe a couple pictures on his phone for work and next moment his camera roll was filled with pictures of Soap. Soap doing something silly, Soap doing something cute or sexy. Just Soap.

He became completely enamored with this man. Any time away from him was unbearable. He was gone for a week and returned to Soap waiting, welcomed with kisses and warm hugs. At some point people started to associate them as one person, ‘Lieutenant Sergeant Ghoap’. It was the stupidest name Ghost had ever heard but he couldn’t deny he had a fondness for it. Apparently they were the favorite couple on base. He doubted that.

“I wanna take ya home with me,” Soap muttered to him one evening in bed.

Ghost lifted his head from his chest, “What?”

“I wanna take ya home to Scotland with me. To meet my family.”

Ghost’s heart soared when Soap cupped his face, nothing but love in his eyes.

“Mo chridhe,” Soap mutters to him, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips.

Ghost wanted to cry. His mother taught him some phrases, sweet things to call someone when he finally found the one. She would call him all kinds of sweet things, as well. He was her mo leanbh. Even well into his adult years, after Tommy and Beth had Joseph. She would greet him with a tight hug.

“Mo leanbh! I swear you get taller every day!”

Ghost long gave up the thought of calling someone his mo leannan after his family was taken from him. After he lost himself and became Ghost, burying Simon deep within. He gave it all up and admittedly forgotten a lot of what his mother taught him. But having Soap in his arms, kissing him and breaking down that wall where Ghost buried Simon and all his mother’s teachings… He was determined to learn again. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask Soap. Couldn’t bring himself to admit to knowing what Soap was saying and choosing to bully him.

Ghost spent three months learning what he could from the internet. He kept it all hidden from Soap, still unsure how to tell him. He knew he was overthinking it but he still was too anxious to just tell Soap. So he continued to practice until the day came that they would be flying out to Scotland. Soap caught Ghost pacing and surprised him with a hug.

“Don’t worry, babe. They’re going to love you. Even if you are a Brit.”

Ghost smiled at the joke as Soap kissed his cheek before leaving. Ghost groans when Soap was out of sight, pulling out his phone to check the email that he had received from Price a couple days ago.

“All your documents have been updated!”

Ghost sighs. This was drawing out far longer than what it should. He should’ve told Soap from the start but he didn’t. And now they were leaving for the airport to catch their flight. Price had an idea of what Ghost was doing, it didn’t take him long to catch Ghost bullying Soap for his Gaelic.

“You could’ve gone about this differently.”

“I’m already too far down this rabbit hole, John.”

Price had laughed at that and wished him luck. Ghost was one negative thought away from a panic attack the entire flight. But Soap kept his mind busy by talking about all the places he wanted to take him when they get to Scotland. He talked about his family, his parents, his sisters, his grandmother.

“My gran speaks Gaelic more than she does English.”

Ghost nods, “Don’t act surprised?”

“Don’t act surprised. And none of your ‘speak English’ comments. She may be old but she’ll put you in your place real quick!”

Ghost nods, panic bubbling up the rest of the flight. He should’ve said something ages ago. But after the ‘speak English’ comments, would Soap had even believed him? The plane landed and Ghost was a fidgeting mess as they got their rental car and Soap drove them to his hometown. He was excitedly pointing almost the entire drive, a grin never leaving his face. When the house came into view Ghost had to take a deep breath and prepare himself.

The car was swarmed by Soap’s sisters who hugged their brother. Soap directed their attention at Ghost and he, too, was pulled into multiple hugs. He never expected to be welcomed so quickly. Ghost even teared up when they immediately called him ‘brother’ and pulled him into the house with Soap in tow. Soap’s mother was the next to greet them. She, of course, grabbed Soap first and hugged him tight. She gave him a big kiss. Then she saw Ghost.

“Look at ya! Yer more handsome than the pictures!”

Ghost was pulled into an awkward hug due to the height difference (she was shorter than Soap). But the warmth from it made him melt. She was no way near similar to his own mother in appearance. She was shorter, not as thin, darker skin— Overall she appeared much healthier than his mother. But her voice… the accent, the adoration in it. It brought him back to those days when Tommy was running the streets and his father was on another binge. Just him and his mother.

They spent a lot of time in the kitchen. The vent behind the fridge is where his mother would hide photos and other personal items that Mr. Riley would’ve destroyed if he found them. She would talk to him Gaelic, and he would parrot back what he heard. She would smile and gently correct him if he made a mistake. Those times in the kitchen was the only time peaceful time they both had in that house. The only time his mother smiled without fear and was her true self. But then Mr. Riley would come home and she would shrivel up.

“Come along, dear! Isaiah! Come in here!”

Soap’s father was nothing like Soap in appearance. But that attitude was definitely something Ghost saw in Soap. He was given a beer and directed into the family room. And there was Soap’s grandmother. She was humming a song that Soap waited until was over before he sat next to her and gave her a hug. She eagerly hugged her grandson. And she started talking to him in Gaelic.

“Bha mi gad ionndrainn, mo shionnach beag!” (I missed you, my little fox.)

“I missed ya, too, Gran.”

Soap looked over at Ghost and waved him over. Ghost took a big swig of his beer, earning a laugh from Soap’s father, before walking over. The old woman looked at him with a thoughtful look. She studied him for a moment before smiling.

“Halo, òganach. Ye must be my grandson’s man.”

“Madainn mhath dhut.” (Good morning to you.)

Soap’s face instantly went into pure shock. He stared at Ghost like he said he killed god as his grandmother’s face lit up in pure delight.

“Bha dragh orm gun robh am madadh-ruadh beag a’ toirt dhachaigh Breatannach! Ach tha mi faicinn gun tug e deagh Albannach leis!” (I was worried that the little fox was bringing home a Brit! But I see he brought a good Scotsman with him!)

Ghost breathed out as Soap’s father wrapped his arm around his shoulder, “Aye! Ye speak Gaelic better than my son!”

Ghost blushes, looking at Soap who was still in shock. His jaw hung open and Ghost could see the gears turning. Ghost was pulled onto a couch by Soap’s mother as his father sits next to Soap.

“Cò a theagaisg thu?” (Who taught you?”

“My mother. She was a proper Scotswoman.”

Ghost didn’t know how but Soap managed to look even more shocked when he said that. Ghost was worried his face was going to get stuck like that if he kept it up.

“Yer mother taught ya well!”

“Ye have ta forgive us for judging. The name Simon Riley isn’t quite scream Scot.”

Ghost laughs, “I actually changed it. Took my mother’s name. Simon Osburn.”

Ghost was deeply concerned by Soap by this point. His father noticed he went too long without saying anything and elbowed him in the ribs without even looking at him.

“John, yer lucky you found yerself a Scot. Ah was questionin’ ya when ye said he was a Brit.”

Soap makes an unintelligible noise, his face screaming like he was looking at Ghost for the first time at a new angle. Ghost was sweating due to the intensity of Soap’s gaze. He couldn’t pick up any anger from him, thankfully. But he still feared what the man was going to say when he finally snapped out of his shock. They spent several hours talking, Soap’s family digging into Ghost to learn what they could about him.

He gave them the censored version of his life story and eventually Soap’s mother and grandmother got up to go start dinner. Soap’s father quickly followed them, leaving Ghost and Soap with his sisters.

“Got yerself a real keeper, John.”

Soap finally looks away from Ghost and he felt like he could finally breathe.

“Yea… Love, let’s go settle in our room.”

Ghost tenses but he follows. Once they were upstairs and as soon as the door closed Soap turned to Ghost.

“What. The. Fuck?! Since when do you know Gaelic?! And since when is your mother Scottish?!”

Ghost stutters, “Since my whole life?”

Soap gaps, waving his hands around but no words came out of his mouth. Ghost breathes out. Two of the things he was worried about Soap reacting to were now out there. And Ghost wasn’t sure how Soap was taking this considering this was in the middle of ‘what the actual fuck how dare you’ and ‘oh, okay’.

“You, since we’ve first met, have been telling me—“

Ghost backed away as Soap spaced out his words.

“To speak fucking English. This whole fucking time—“

“Baby-“

“WHEN YOU ALSO DIDN’T SPEAK ENGLISH?!”

Ghost gulps, realizing this was dead on ‘what the actual fuck how dare you’. Ghost is shoved back onto the bed and Soap was on him. Ghost was surprised by the kiss Soap captured him in. It took his breath and he gasped for air when Soap pulled away.

“You fuck! You always been a nyaff! Always! But this- Oh oh- THIS! This upgrades ya, feartie dobber! How dare ya keep this from me!”

“Love-“

“Haud yer weesht!”

“Baby-“

Soap covers his mouth, glaring down at him, “Shut yer pus! Ah’m tired of hearin’ ya talk!”

Ghost couldn’t help but adore Soap’s accent as it thickened in his rage. He moves Soap’s hand off his mouth.

“Mo leannan.“

Soap freezes above him. The rage almost instantly melted away and Soap swallows hard. He cups Ghost’s face, Ghost’s hand going to the back of his head.

“Tha gaol agam ort.” (I love you.)

Soap chokes out a sob, “Tha gaol agam ort cuideachd.” (I love you, too.)

Soap kisses him, this time much softer. Ghost wraps his arms around Soap’s shoulders, not wanting the man to have even a opportunity to leave. Though he knows that he wouldn’t. Soap pulls away, smiling broadly.

“I was worried when I fell for you. Glad to see that my heart found me a Scot rather than a Brit.”

Ghost laughs, Soap kissing his neck, “Never did like the English side. To be honest the only good Brits I’ve ever met are Price and Gaz. Everyone else is on thin ice.”

Soap laughs against Ghost’s neck.

“Dhia, I love you.”

They lay there, enjoying each other’s warmth and presence. Soap breaks the silence after maybe ten minutes.

“Osburn, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

“I like that… ‘John Osburn’ has a ring to it.”

Ghost grins, eyes looking to his bag where the ring he’s been hiding for a couple weeks lays hidden.

“Yea… it does.”

#call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #fic #fanfic

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rottenblur · 9 months

Text

Study break|J.MILLER| part four

Summary: After that intense brunch date with the Millers, Joel had been ignoring you. What better way to get your mind off him than to get drunk and make out with a stranger. Would you do it again if you knew you were gonna get caught?

Warnings: Alcohol, implied thigh riding, making out with a stranger, getting caught hehehe, jealous! Joel, thigh touching by said stranger, weed, truck sex, reader fails to give joel road head, over the clothes touching (reader to joel) crossfaded reader. Smut MOST SMUT IVE WROTE FOR THIS SERIES, joel fighting some guy for you, angry!joel unprotected sex (use a condom plz) violence for like two seconds

“You’re a lethal fuck baby.”

Three long, fucking cruel days of Joel ignoring you, he set you in place and just expected you to be okay with being high and dry.

You responded to his text, he read it and didn’t respond. He makes breakfast every morning, not even glancing at you once.

A fucking asshole. It was infuriating, you keep messaging him hoping he will respond but, nope he leaves you on delivered, as if you aren’t living in the same house.

You pass him in the hallways late at night when you can’t sleep, yet he never responds more than a “hm” to your desperate “hey”.

On a late Saturday night, you and Sarah are laying around, scrolling through your phones till she gets a notification.

“Hey..you wanna go to a party?”

You look over to her, turning off your phone.

Honestly, anything to forget Joel was a good idea in your books. Didn’t matter at what cost, or where… with who.

“Yeah..i guess” You replied.

Her face lights up and she almost mauls you, pulling you into the tightest hug you’ve ever felt.

“REALLY??? My baby is growing up so fast, she kisses your forehead.

“I dont have any party clothes tho, Wore my only dress yesterday.” You pull her off of you to look at her.

She looks at you, gets up and walks over to her closet.

“Are you fucking kidding me, I got everything you could ever want in here.”

You sigh, walk over and start looking through her dresses. None in sight that are even close to knee length.

I mean what’s better to get over a guy by getting drunk in a slutty outfit, and fucking a stranger?

You and Sarah both decide on a outfit, yours a purple mini dress with rhinestone straps that glimmer in the light.

Sarah’s a flowy floral, white dress, honestly she would look like a angel if it wasn’t so short.

“Jeez Sarah I look more like a slut than you do, that’s new.” You say as you both admire each other in a body length mirror.

You spend the next fifteen minutes listening to music and doing your makeup.

When you both look like you should be working a street corner, officially you’re ready to go to a shitty frat party.

You and Sarah grab your phones and head down stairs. Joel and tommy are leaning on the kitchen island looking over some blue prints with a beer in hand.

“We are going to a party so don’t wait up.” She smiles and gives them a twirl showing off her outfit, they both smile then both of their gazes fall on you.

They are staring at you like you’re their prey. Fucking devouring you with their eyes.

Joel’s eyes fall on the hem of your dress, falling just above mid thigh, he furrows his brows and adverts his gaze.

“Yeah alright, text me if you need a ride.” He practically mumbles then tommy pipes in.

“Shit Sarah you’ve converted her.” He laughs and sips his beer.

“Oh shut up, she’s the one that wanted to go.” Sarah says while shoving on a pair of heels.

You look at Joel to see his reaction, it for sure wasn’t a happy one. “Thanks for the ride offer, Mr. Miller.” You wanted it to hurt. When you bend over to pick up your shoes, you made god damn sure he saw your dress ride up revealing the black lace of your panties.

You can hear a grunt as you slip on your shoes and stand back up, rolling your eyes when his catch yours.

You shut the door behind you and you’re off.

Arriving at the party, groups of people are gathered on the lawn. The music is so loud you can hear it from the sidewalk, what the fuck. What the fuck were you doing at a college frat party with Sarah, willingly.

You brush away your shame and step inside. Guys with bass pro hats, covering a horrible mullet. Dressed head to toe in carhartt, the cherry on top is the timberland boots.

Every single god damn one of them looked the same, then one catches your eye.

A guy dressed head to toe in black, other than a green flannel, fucking perfect. He looked like he was only here for the free liquor, probably was best friends with one of these yee haw mother fuckers as a kid.

The only possible reason you could imagine why he would be here, a fucking frat.

You search the liquor table for something other than white claws or bud light, a bottle of jack daniel’s catching your eye, bingo. You grab the bottle screwing the cap open and taking a sip, you wipe your mouth.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around, it wasn’t Sarah, she was long gone talking to one of her boy toys.

It was a tall, mullet bass pro wearing mother fucker. Jesus you didn’t have time nor patience for them tonight.

“Hey girl, you can’t just take the whole-“

You flip him off and walk towards your target boy toy. If he was in a band, you’d gladly be his groupie.

Another swig of whiskey to calm your nerves and you’re strutting over to him. He’s perched on a large window sill nursing a cigarette, a bong laid carefully by his feet. Probably the only stoner in here.

You approach him and think of the easiest way to pick up a conversation, got it.

“Hey, can i bum one off ya’?” He looks away from the open window and smiles at you. “For sure, cutie.” He reaches into his pocket pulling out a pack of marlbaro golds and offers it to you.

You take one, putting it between your lips. He sits up, making room for you, you sit down next to him.

He leans in, lighting your cigarette with his. You inhale, pulling away and exhaling the smoke.

“You aren’t one of those frat girls are you?” You laugh at his comment, shaking your head and inhaling once again.

“Nah, my friend dragged me here.”

A lie, but he doesn’t know any better. Saying that you actually wanted to come to this stupid party would do you no good to a guy like this.

He puts the cigarette between his lips, and shifts to pick up the bong.

“You want some? It’s some quad shit really good.” He pulls out a bag from his flannel, packing about a half ounce of weed in it. I mean, fuck it.

You nod your head, picking up the whiskey bottle chugging a good amount and passing it to him, he declines. “What’s your name anyways?”

He takes a nug out, grinds it onto his hand, pitches it and puts it into the bowl.

“Tyler.” He lights the bowl filled to the top with purple and green weed, inhaling till the weed goes through, he pulls out the bowl and inhales the smoke.

A slight cough into his sleeve and he’s passing the bong to you. You take a swig of liquid courage, not that you needed it at all.

The music is slurred, the only features you can make out on his face is his long black hair, his dark brown eyes and a eyebrow piercing. God imagine if his name mattered, if you would even remember it tomorrow.

You pinch the remaining bits of bud, putting it into the bowl. He looks to you, putting out his cigarette onto the hardwood floor. You’re sure the frat DEFINITELY loves this guy.

You take one last drag of your cigarette, passing it to him and taking his lighter.

“How’d you get invited to this anyways, you don’t look like a frat asshole.” You point to his outfit.

He lights the bowl, you inhale. “Yeah i sell some of these assholes shitty overpriced weed.” He laughs, you finish the bowl and set the bong down, he takes a slow drag off your cigarette.

What he said hits you, so does the weed. You bust out laughing, so hard you start coughing.

“I only give pretty girls like you the good shit.”

Oh shit. Mixing the amount of whiskey you had plus the weed was a bad idea. At least you weren’t thinking about Joel.

“Fuck, you’re too sweet, too hot.” You slur.

He passes back the cigarette to you, everything was so calm. You almost forgot where you were for a second, you were fucked up.

You take a drag off the cigarette, throwing it onto the floor, stomping it with your shoe. He smiles at you, then leans in, dodging your lips and going straight for your neck.

He kisses up and down your neck, sucking every couple kisses, he dips down where your dress falls. Right on your tits. He shoves a hand in your dress dancing around your inner thigh, you let out a whimper when his thumb grazes your clit.

Fuck was it the alcohol or was it hot in here.

Then you remember exactly why you don’t drink, your stomach turns upside down. You pull his head away from your neck, smiling to him.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.”

He smiles and nods, picking up the bong as you walk away, stumble away would be more realistic.

You take the bottle with you, running up the crowded stairs and search for a bathroom.

A open door, no one occupying it with a quickie either, bingo. You walk in, pulling out your phone searching through your contacts with blurry vision.

You take a sip, sit yourself on the floor as the phone beeps. To your surprise, they answered.

“Hey, what’s up.” You can hear the mumbles of tv in the background.

You look at your phone, fuck. You swore you called Tommy, not fucking Joel.

It was late too, he was staying up to pick you and Sarah up, such a sweetheart wait no you’re mad at him, what a fucking dick.

“Fuck i meant to call Tommy mm b-“ He cuts you off before you can finish your slurred words.

“Nah, he’s asleep I’m all ya get. Sarah ready too? You sound pretty fuckin’ ready.” He states, did you ready sound that bad?

You sigh and take a gulp of liquor, setting the bottle on the floor and answer. “Yeahhh I dont know where she is, pretty sure she’s with a guy-“ You pick the bottle back up, taking another sip. “Call her yourself bro” You say giggling at your words.

You can almost picture his face when you said that, fingers pinched on his nose bridge, furrowed brows.

“Bro? Who the fuck are you talkin’ to darlin’? I’m leavin now.”

He hangs up the phone, you shove your phone back into your bag, take one last sip of your bottle and head back downstairs.

You’re on top of whatever his name was, you’d already forgotten. Too drunk to have shame, too high to care who it was.

You can feel how hard he was, kissing him was basically just teeth and spit.

You were desperate for each other. If you got up now there would be a wet spot on his black jeans, from you or him, No one knows. Your hips uncontrollably rub against him, your dress riding up for the whole fucking party to see.

You hear your name be called faintly through the pounding of loud music and talking. Then a tap on your shoulder from a rough large hand, oh fuck.

You turn your head to look, your face met with a broad chest in a black t shirt, you look up. Fuck.

“C’mon time to go.” He’s fucking fuming.

Tyler pulls your face back for another kiss, you’re lifted off him like you don’t weigh shit.

“The fuck is this? Your dad or something?” He remarks.

Joel laughs. “What are you 19 or something? Fucking kid.” He mumbles, You stumble aside. Joel steps towards him, tyler stands up, boner and pre cum stain for everyone to see.

“Who the fuck are you old man?” He spits out and goes to grab your arm.

Joel hits him, he falls back with a bloody nose. Probably broken. He was a skinny alternative boy and Joel was you know Joel.

“Wanna try to touch her again?” He picks him up by his collar, you’re frozen in spot. It was kinda hot, him fighting some guy for you.

“Jesus man are you her fucking boyfriend or something, she came onto me. Guess your old ass can’t hit it right.” He should have just left it alone.

“Hey, shut the fu-“ Joel looks at you and before you could finish your sentence, Tyler was on the floor with a fucked up face. You could hear the crunch of his bones against Joel’s strong fist.

Joel grabs your arm and starts pulling you out of the party. “What the fuck was that, Joel seriously?”

He looks at you, adjusts your dress and pulls you towards his truck. “I fuckin’ told you darlin’.”

He picks you up, putting you into the passenger seat, buckling your seat belt and slamming the door. “Told me-“ He walks over to the driver side and hops in.

“What the fuck did you tell me? That bullshit with Tommy?”

He doesn’t say anything, just starts driving. You huff to yourself and take off your shoes.

You get to a stop light, he looks at you. “Yeah, wasn’t bullshit. So much for being mine right?” His grip on the steering wheel tightened, was it Tyler or were you soaking fucking wet over how angry Joel was right now.

“You were fucking ignoring me, you think I don’t want you? Even now.”

He looks at you and the light turns green.

“I was ignoring you ‘cause—“ He looks away, his knuckles white against the black leather of the wheel. “-I can’t fucking control myself no more.” He sighs.

He looks back to you, looking you up and down.

“God did you have to dress so slutty?” His hips rut up, you had him exactly where you wanted him, or at least where drunk you wanted him.

You blush, reaching your hand to the growing bluge in his grey sweatpants, showing you everything you could ever want to see.

His breath hitches. “Fuck, you’re drunk.”

You smile at him and start rubbing him through his pants, he looks down.

A dark wet spot grows on his pants, god he was perfect.

“Darlin’ I can’t drive if you keep doing that.”

You nod and pull his dick out of his pants, his tip was angry and leaking. You thumb his tip, dragging the pre cum down his length pulling a groan out of him.

He looks at you, you unbuckle your seatbelt and adjust in your seat, leaning over to him. You spit on his tip and force him down your throat.

“Fuck- Jesus.” He grunts out.

You bob your head up and down trying to take him all in your mouth, working the rest with your hands, you can feel the car speeding up.

When you feel him about to cum down your throat, he pulls you off and parks the car. You look around, you’re at the bottom of his street, thank god it was too late for anyone to be awake.

“Look we can’t—“ he cuts himself off, looking at your dripping mouth, your dripping cunt peeking out from your dress.

“-Fuck it, come ‘ere.” He adjusts his seat, making room for you, leaning back his seat slightly. Your first time with Joel fucking Miller was gonna be in his truck.

You climb onto his lap, straddling him. He looks at you, reaches down and rubs your clit through your panties.

“Look at ya, all fuckin’ soaked for me” He pushes your panties to the side, pulling you up and notching his tip to your slit. Your breath hitches and you look at him with furrowed brows.

He leans in connecting your lips with his, then pushes his tip into you with a grunt. He disconnects your lips with a sigh. “You’re such a tease.” He grabs your face, making you look at him as he thrusts all the way in you, splitting you apart.

“Fuck—you’re too big.” You shut your eyes, working through the stretch of him.

“Look at me baby.” He fucks into you without remorse, a steady pace with no mercy.

You can feel him in your stomach, he pulls you back into a kiss. You’re moaning into his mouth and his balls are slapping onto your ass such a filthy sound.

He reaches his hand down, oh fuck. Was it the alcohol or could you come right fucking now.

“Oh fuck Joel—mm like that” You mumble into his mouth, he’s fucking you dumb. His fingers find the perfect pace bringing you to your orgasm.

He pulls away from the kiss looking at you with those beautiful, soft brown eyes, and scrunched up face. “Shit darlin’, wanna feel you cum all ‘round this dick.” He groans as his hips pick up a unbearable pace, his tip kissing your cervix with each stroke.

You whimper, and with a nod from him you’re coming fully undone around him, fucking you through your high.

“Fuck you’re squeezing my dick so fuckin’ good.” When you’re coming down from your high, pulsing all around him, his face relaxes and he pulls out. Pulling up your dress, jerking himself till thick white ropes pour all over your lower stomach and clit.

“Jesus.” Is all you can breathe out.

He kisses your forehead, and looks you up and down, blush covered cheeks, sticky white ropes now ruining Sarah’s dress and your panties.

He was out of breath, he looked more fucked than you. You ruffle his hair and climb off him.

“So what are we gonna do now?” You say looking over at him as he pulls up his pants, He looks at you in bliss.

“We do it again. You’re a lethal fuck baby.”

Taglist: @paleidiot @slvbl

(Comment to be added to taglist)

Masterlist: here

Part three: here

Part five: coming soon..

AN: probably wouldn’t have finished this if SOMEONE ( @slvbl ) DIDNT BULLY ME INTO IT. I hope y’all enjoy this. The smut is kinda short but ANGY joel MAKES ME HAPPY. I named tyler after a guy that ghosted me on tinder LITTLE DID HE KNOW HE WOULD BE GETTING BEAT UP IN MY FIC MWAHAHAHAH lmk how yall feel bout this part yall need to get into my inbox i need inspiration 😘

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