#happy birthday i guess tommy
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↳ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
Gif not mine!
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joel Miller x afab!fem reader
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ellie finds an old chessboard somewhere in Jackson and asks you to teach her how to play. Joel joins and isn’t too happy about losing three times against you.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, Joel is early fifties), sex, p in v, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, use of whore (like once), pet names (darling, sweetheart, angel), multiple orgasms, they do it on the table, cum eating, bit of angst, insecure Joel, canon divergency, probably ooc Joel and Ellie, mentions of death and loss, alcohol consumption, confessing feelings. Let me know if I missed something!
a/n: this one’s a bit rushed but I wanted to post it before my birthday so I apologize if it isn’t great. Anyways, I’m writing a second Javi fic, so if you liked 𝐌Í𝐀 I’m certain you’re going to love the next one:)
no use of y/n
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
"You're cheating." Ellie rambles, standing up to get a better view of the board and analyze it from different angles. You can't help but giggle at her childish attitude, cause it truly brought a certain joy to the dynamic. "Hey! It's not funny."
"How could I cheat? You were watching my game the whole time." You defend you case, raising your hands in a sign of peace but gaining a glare from the girl.
"I don't know, you're the one who's teaching me." In that moment, you hear the crack of the front door opening, but none of you bother to stand and greet the main resident of the house, too busy in your own matters.
"Look, I'm playing fair. I am simply older and more experienced than you." Ellie grimaces and sits back on the chair, both arms crossed over her chest. "But try not to feel too bad. I've always been really good at chess."
Joel enters the dining room and walks right past you, going straight to the kitchen. You guess he's either going for a beer or to pour some whiskey into his favorite glass. Always the same routine every weekend: he would come home late with absolutely no explanations as to where he was, drink something strong and spend some time with both of you before heading to bed.
"You must be a really good strategist, then." She replies, amused. "I’ve heard this game is all about that. Strategies."
When you're about to respond, the man's heavy footsteps get closer as he comes to the room once again and leans back on the wall opposite to you, a glass of whiskey on his hand. His grayish hair is messy and his eyes seem to shine brighter under the warm light hanging over your heads when he looks at you intently. Often, he would appear exhausted after being off all day, but tonight it was different. Something about him was, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
Ellie must've sensed a shift in the air, since she changed her approach in a second. "Joel, you're pretty ancient. I bet you know how to play."
You hold back your laughter at her mocking comment, reaching the board to rearrange the pieces. He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, straightening his posture nonchalantly.
"I'm more of a poker man," he retorts with a distant air, diverting his gaze to Ellie.
"Poker?" You frown as he comes your way, but doesn't take a sit just yet. "I didn't take you for a gambler, Miller."
He sets the glass down on the table, leaning over the chair next to you with a smirk. "M'not. There’s many ways of playing other than betting your money, f’you know what I mean.”
Your eyes widen at his response, taken aback. So he meant like… The one were you end up naked. “Now, I would’ve expected that from Tommy, but you? That’s a surprise.”
He shrugs, faded smile still on his lips.
You remembered what Ellie once told you, ‘he does that whenever you’re around,’ she had said in a meditative tone, ‘smile, I mean. It’s kind of creepy cause… y’know, he never does.’ Perhaps that’s why she acted differently every time you three were together.
“Yeah, whatever.” The girl grumbles. “Can you play chess or not? I need someone to take revenge for me.”
Joel takes a seat beside you, slowly, glancing over the board before sipping from his drink again. He looks back at Ellie, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. The man sighs in defeat, well aware that he just couldn’t say no to her. A dad reflex, maybe, but it worked out in her favor and she’d take advantage of it as much as she could.
“Fine. I call black.” You nod in agreement and the younger one leans on her elbows for a better view. “Either way, I know you like making the first moves. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”
Your first reaction was almost choking on your own saliva. Honestly, how dare he say something like that in front of Ellie? Did he suddenly forget that she was fourteen and terribly clever? Had he lost his mind? Also, he never called you by anything other than your name whenever she was around, so this whole situation felt like a personal attack.
“You okay over there?” Ellie asked, slightly concerned at your incessant coughing.
“Yeah…” you give him a dirty look and press a hand to your chest, making the first move with a white pawn. “Could you bring me some water? I think my soul might’ve left my body.”
“Sure.” She quickly answers, standing up. Joel doesn’t say anything else, his mind focused only on the game now.
It had all happened last weekend.
Thinking in retrospective, your relationship with him had always been ambiguous. You couldn’t quite recall when he actually started talking to you and not just ‘bear with your presence’, nor when his invitations to come over to his place started coming from him and not Ellie.
At first, it was simply you and her. Bonding was easy, despite her sharp character. She looked up to you, for whatever reason that might be, and that smoothed things. Joel was a completely different story. He acted like you didn’t exist, as if you were merely another bug roaming his house. Though when he saw how good your friendship with Ellie was, his brusque behavior started to fade, or at least settle down somehow.
Sooner than later you started coming over to make dinner, or teach the teenager how to bake some of the recipes your grandmother had thought you -more like you’d do everything while she chatted to keep you entertained-. But truth be told, it became more of an excuse to see him.
Honestly, you were doomed since the very beginning. There was undeniably no way you would’ve been able to escape Joel Miller’s silent charm. His presence became a constant need to you, and you’d often find yourself relating certain things to him. Smoke, denim, pills, booze, watches and boots, to mention a few. To you, he was all gray and blue, merging in the best way possible.
You didn’t expect him to thank you for taking care of them. Them. Not just Ellie, him too. Or that he’d suddenly show up to places you would frequent, which made you wonder, could he possibly feel the same way? Sure, it could’ve been a simple coincidence… If it weren’t for the stolen looks you’d often share. Though his face rarely reflected any interest in you, his piercing gaze would frequently burn your skin every time you were hanging out with other men.
Two weeks ago, Maria had been held back from patrol due to her pregnancy, and you were called to fill up her place. The thing is, you were supposed to leave with Tommy, but somehow ended up with his older brother, riding at dawn in utter silence and searching for a prey to hunt. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, yet it allowed you to watch him more attentively: his broad shoulders and sturdy back, the dark graying hair that, in some way, made him more attractive. And then your mind, went to some… Darker places.
How would his big, manly hands feel cupping your breasts? Flashy images of his rough, calloused fingers pinching your nipples meandered your mind. His face buried between your legs, his mustache tickling your…
“You ‘kay there, sweetheart?” He had asked, abruptly taking you out of your freakish daydreaming. “You seem distracted.”
Well, that was a way of putting it. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” you babbled, “I hate the rifle.” Joel glanced back at you with a stiff, confused expression. “If I shoot this thing, I’ll feel the kickback on my shoulders and back for at least two weeks from now.”
The horses were stagnant, waiting by the trees while you took a stroll nearby, keeping an eye for any sort of animal that would serve for dinner.
“Show me.” He said, internally amused by your inquiring expression. “Show me how you hold it.”
“Oh…” You compeled, in spite of the anxiety his stern eyes brought upon you.
“You’re doin’ it wrong.” He grunted, coming to approach you, still holding the position.
You scowled, raising a brow to him but not daring to move a muscle. “Maybe you’re just making me nervous, did you think about that?”
Joel plants himself behind you, staying so close that you could feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of clothing. Your heartbeat races when his hand rearranges the rifle on your elbow, unintentionally wrapping his arms around you.
“You need to hold it like this.” His tone was low but still firm. “Keep it up.” You feel his chest pressed to your back and his face near yours, making it hard to breathe.
You can’t bring yourself to look at him, cause if your head turns even a little, you fear the distance between you might as well disappear. His hand holds your wrist steady, the other one going from your elbow to your waist in a tight grip that makes you gasp.
“Do I make you nervous?” He questioned, without letting you go. Paying no mind to the way your nerves buzzed and ears rang at the proximity, you slowly nodded. “Are you afraid of me?”
His doubt made your heart jump and knit your brows together. “No. I trust you.” Joel’s breath hit your temple and it took all the self control in your body not to get rid of the distance.
“You shouldn’t.” Both his hands are on your waist in a firm grasp. He definitely noticed your flushed cheeks, the ragged breathing and constant desire to look at him. Like a damn teenager in love. You gulp, trying to regain composure.
“And why is that?” He didn’t answer, and every second that passed and his hands were still on you only made it worse. You needed to get closer or your lungs would crush under the weight of expectation. “Joel?”
You finally gave in, raising your head to face him. He was already looking down at you, eyes smitten and lost. A reflection of him you’d never seen before. Your gaze goes to his lips and inevitably lick your own before going up to his deep, brown eyes again.
Fucking hell, the man was mesmerizing.
Before you even knew what you were doing, you’re leaning forward, completely forgetting about the rifle and the whole world around you. Your noses touch and your lips merely brush against each other’s. Instinctively, you close your eyes in hopes that he’d go for it.
But he didn’t.
Instead, his hand comes to arrange your posture again, murmuring a lazy ‘easy’ in your ear, that shared moment vanishing in thin air.
“When shooting a weapon this big, you gotta bring your strength from your torso and legs.” And then he acted like nothing happened; nevertheless, he was perfectly aware of the effect he had on you. “That way it won’t hurt after.”
Well shit. Now you had screwed up.
This man was like a father to Ellie and you were not only infatuated with him, but also add to the list that you had purposely tried to kiss him. You were embarrassed, to say the least. Specially since it appeared that whatever feelings you had were one-sided.
Or so you thought, up until last Saturday.
You hadn’t talked with him about it. In fact, you hadn’t even been alone with him ever since. It was probably for the best, though, that way you wouldn’t have to humiliate yourself in front of him any further. Every time you happened to cross paths, he seemed aloof, more indifferent than usual.
It was pretty late, probably past midnight and Joel hadn’t yet arrived. You had spent all day with Ellie and now you were just waiting for his return, but she was growing tired and you didn’t think it was fair for her to stay up for too long.
“Go to bed, okay? I’ll wait for him.” You told her with a smile.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not even…” whatever she was going to say got cut off by her yawn.
“Right. You were saying?” She rolled her eyes and snorted at your victorious air.
“Fine. But promise you won’t stay for too long. I’d hate to know you didn’t get any sleep because of me.” You agreed and said everything would be fine, that she had nothing to worry about.
So you waited there on his living room, reading old crappy magazines about celebrity gossip while facing the crackling fire that kept the house warm. It was easy to lose track of time this way, therefore, when the door opened at last, you had no idea how long you had been waiting around. You rushed to his encounter, but you were totally unprepared for what happened next.
“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you- shit…” the man standing ahead was someone you knew, but could barely recognize. The side of his face was bleeding, a cut going from his temple to the cheekbone and there were bruises scattered around it. He was sweating and you could swear he was about to faint.
You closed the door behind him, tugging his shoulder to drag him inside, all the way to the kitchen. Despite his rumbles of protest, Joel allowed you to do it, putting up no resistance. His mind was screaming at him to tell you that you should leave and that he didn’t need any help. But he was too fucking exhausted and you were being so kind and warm… He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, ignoring the part of his brain that kept telling him ‘you’ll regret this later’. For once in a very long time, he was being irrational, letting another part of him take control; or rather lose it completely.
You sat him down on a chair and took a clean towel, wetting it with cold water to treat the wound. In addition, you also took the bottle of whiskey that he kept locked away where Ellie wouldn’t find it, pouring him a glass. He gulps it down straight away.
Joel observes your every move closely. Your steady hands going to his chin and raising his face to the light, the way your features drown in concern and your dazzling eyes examine the injury. His skin burnt there where you touched him and it was becoming hard for him to keep his mind focused, growing dizzier with pain and intoxicated by your perfume. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way, and it burdens him to know it. Your lovely, young self shouldn’t be an object of his desire; and the fact that you were what he wanted the most was killing him achingly slow.
Because, even if you did want him back, what good could it possibly come from the whole thing? He’d just hold you back. There were plenty of other men in Jackson that could offer you things he certainly couldn’t. Yeah, that was it. He was way too corrupted to be deserving of someone like you.
“Does it hurt too much?” You muttered while getting rid of the blood, careful not to be too harsh.
“S’okay, angel.” The name-calling wasn’t something you usually liked. It sounded condescending coming from other men, but when he did it, your stomach fluttered. “Were you waiting for me?”
You nod vaguely, “I was worried.” His eyes bore into yours and your heart skips a beat. “I mean we. We were worried.”
“Right…” He noticed how your fingers brushed the hair out of his face tenderly, his self-control threatening to crumble under your touch with every second that went by. His hand takes your wrist, preventing you from keeping up your work. For a moment, he says nothing, simply staring at you fixedly. “I think you should leave.” He blurts out, letting go of you.
Oh, there they were. Those mixed signs that you always seemed to misinterpret.
You groan in exasperation, leaving the bloody towel beside the bottle of alcohol. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I don’t need your pity.” Joel was being petty and his deliver managed to hurt a little. But you would not give him that much power, at least not without putting up a fight.
“It’s not about that and you know it.” You cross both arms over your chest and sit on the edge of the table, determined to get out of that agog that wouldn’t let you sleep. “Why are you pushing me away?”
He rubs a hand over his face, taking his time to retort and avoiding your eyes. “I can’t give you what you want.”
You laugh sardonically, challenging him. “And what is that?” His gaze is disdainful and rude, but you don’t let him intimidate you. “Are you afraid?”
If you were anyone else, you’d be shaking with fear. Joel was tough, to the point where some might call him cynical. But you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. His goal was to scare you off.
“Go. I don’t need you here.” You don’t move an inch, resolved to bring an end to whatever this was and ignoring his vicious glare.
“No,” you huffed.
“I told you to leave.” He was getting pissed, his voice trembling with anger and the cold words slicing the tense air.
“And I said no. I don’t take orders from you.” His lips were sealed in a fine line, eyes feisty. “Be honest with me and then I’ll see myself out.”
Silence again. A more prolonged one in which none of you had the bravery to come forward. Every second that went on and nothing happened was a torture you could not endure. That was it then, you’d made a fool of yourself yet again.
“Fine.” Your voice comes out unsteady from choking down the tears as you stand up straight, set on leaving all these feelings behind.
But right when you walk by his side, Joel’s hand grabs your arm softly. His grip wasn’t strong enough to hold you back if you really wanted to go, kind of like he was unsure about his own actions.
“Push me away.” He pleads. And it sounds desperate, as if the whole situation caused him agony. “Please, push me away.”
Your wet your lips, astonished by how guilty he appeared when practically begging you to stay away, “I can’t,” you respond, “I won’t.”
There was no turning back now. He had trapped himself on purpose and jeopardized everything the moment he laid his hand on you. The minute your eyes found each other’s, he realized he’d just lost all willpower that remained.
Joel pulled you closer and the sudden action almost made you trip, forcing you to place both hands on his chest to stay still. Something flicked in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite comprehend. But you took it as a sign to fully give in to your desires, as long as he’d permit it. You sit on his lap, solely enjoying the moment. His face, despite the beating, was ever so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. If he wanted you too, why did he have make it this difficult? Perhaps he was simply… Insecure.
“What have you done to me, sweetheart?” He asked, voice strained as he looks down at your lips. Your fingertips gently trace the edges of his face.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” One of his hands covers your thigh and the other rests on his knee.
“Do you like playin’ around with an old man like me?” You can’t help but laugh a bit, your thumb going across his bottom lip. “Is this what you want? A sweet thing like you can do so much better.”
“I don’t care for boys, or any other men for that matter.” His chest swells at your words. “I like you, Joel. Is that so hard to believe?” The man swears you can feel his heart thumping against his ribs when he whispers a barely audible ‘yes’. His honesty moved you and grew a weird feeling in your chest that impelled you to prove him wrong.
In response, you lastly get rid of that awful distance, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and feeling the unfamiliar tickle of his mustache. It was stubborn at first, but he caved in eventually, kissing you back slowly. He took his time to relish on your taste before deepening the kiss, manhandling you on top of him. Joel’s hands are on your lower back and the nape of your neck as his tongue explores your mouth in depth, letting go of himself. You moaned in between the kiss, drunken by every light stimulation, which only spurred him on and turned the situation hungrier, more desperate.
“Joel…” you pull back, laying your forehead against his. “I have to go.”
You feel him chuckle at your declaration. “Seriously? Now?” His tone was raspy and faint.
“I don’t want to.” You assure with a pout, “But I fear that if I stay, this won’t end in a simple kiss. And Ellie’s upstairs, remember?” He agreed it was for the best, but still couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, asking you to stay the night even if he had to sleep on the couch.
That was the night that started everything.
After that weekend, the way he acted changed radically. He remained with that grim, stoic exterior. Yet, he was brighter around you, more beaming. In public, he’d always find a way to touch you, even if it was merely a brief brush of skin. On bolder days, he’d pull you apart from a crown and take you somewhere darker to make out for as long as you could. Which wasn’t much, since everyone always appeared to have some sort of unresolved business with either of you.
Today, however, something was odd. Joel went off, as usual, and you stayed with Ellie, who had found an old, ragged chessboard somewhere in Jackson. A game that, as it turns out, you particularly loved.
That’s how you ended up here.
Three rounds afterwards, you keep winning and increasing his irritation.
“Checkmate.” You say for the fifth time tonight, giving him a triumphant smile, getting up from your seat to pour some whiskey into your glass.
“You’re cheating.” He barks, annoyed.
“See! I told you.” Ellie backed him up and the way they teamed up to bash you almost made you giggle.
“Suck it up, losers!” You shout from the kitchen, entertained by their resentment.
“Spill your secrets then, otherwise I will simply not be convinced.” She replies, glowering.
The drink nearly dissolves on your tongue and you leave the glass on the counter, coming to join them again. You rest both hands on her shoulders in a friendly gesture.
“My grandpa thought me when I was young. Before the outbreak, I mean.” Ellie turns her head to look at you in interest. “He got sick afterwards… Forgetful and amnesiac.” You explain, “Chess stimulated his brain and since I was his only family left, we would spend hours playing.” Joel’s chest feels heavy at the sight of your nostalgic smile. “We had a great time together. He… Passed away a couple years ago.” Ellie takes your hand on her own in a comforting manner, but you don’t feel particularly sad, simply emotional about the past. “Hey, kiddo. Didn’t you have a movie night with Dina today?”
“Shit!” Her eyes widen. “Thanks for the reminder, I totally lost track of time,” she gets up with an apologetic smile, “I’m gonna head out now.” She quickly takes a jacket and ties her hair up. “You guys can keep playing or… I don’t know, just don’t wait around for me.”
And just like that, you’re left alone.
After an entire week of sneaking around and behind everyone’s back, you’re finally alone.
There’s a shift in the air of the room and you narrow your eyes when you gape at him. “You think she knows something?”
He tilts his head to the side and finishes his whiskey. “Probably. Can’t know for sure.” The vague answer made you shrug, deciding to put a pin to it for later.
Now that no one was around, you were determined to have some fun, coming up with a plan that could escalate things between you. And he surely thought so too. It wouldn’t be difficult to get his attention, since he was constantly monitoring your every move. Being that way, you intentionally stand beside him when leaning to reorder the pieces, giving him a very good view of your ass.
“Another round?” You ask tauntingly, “Or are you already tired of getting defeated?”
He grunts, upset by the previous resolutions. “I’d like to play another game.” You turn around with a cheeky smile. “One that I won’t lose.”
“And what would that be?” He gives you a darkened, intense glance, his lips pursed in a smirk.
Joel Miller was a man of few words and he totally lived up to it. Instead of responding, he grabbed your hips and dragged your body to the side, so that you were now standing between his legs, lingering against the edge of the table. You swallow hard, meeting his heavy gaze from above him. It made your pulse raise and blood rush, igniting something that you haven’t quite felt with anyone else yet. He presses a kiss to your clothed abdomen, eyes never wandering from yours as he lowers his lips to your pelvis, lifting your shirt leisurely.
“Look at you, darlin’. All flustered and I’ve barely done anything.” Your chest rises and falls methodically, the atmosphere feeling dense despite the chilly air. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips when he starts laying open-mouthed kisses along your exposed belly, sending shivers through your whole body, “Off,” he motions at your clothes.
You do as told, getting rid of the shirt and tossing it to the floor. His big, warm hands strain your movements as he explores your skin, kissing all the way up to the valley of your breasts.
“Joel…” you take a fistful of his hair and pull at it mildly, just enough to yank his head backwards and bring your lips together, swallowing a whimper from him.
The kiss is ambitious, all teeth and tongue, as if you had been craving each other for long and had just barely given in. He swiftly stands up and sits you at the end of the table, spreading your knees to settle in between your thighs. He parts from your mouth and traces your jawline, neck and collarbones, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin, lightly scraping it with his facial hair. You were a mess at this point, panting and tugging at him as if you were about to collapse. But then he stops, breathing heavily against your chest and looking up to you with dark, lustful eyes.
“What- Did I do something wrong?” You stutter with uncertainty.
“Ain’t nothing wrong, angel.” His hand rests heavy on your thigh, a mischievous grin painted on his face. “But I told you we’d play a different game, didn’t I?”
This new side of him was exciting in many ways possible and whatever it was he wanted to do, you were certain it was going to be fun. And, possibly, a bit tortuous. You peer at him in expectation.
“Make your move.” He commanded, pointing the board with a succinct head movement. You obligue, choosing a random pawn and moving it with shaky hands while struggling to think straight. The man hums and decides to mirror your tactic. “Keep goin’.”
Next thing you know his fingers unhook your bra and you have to make a quick choice in spite of all the distractions. At the end, you go for a horse, barely capable of register anything other than his hands taking off the piece of clothing. After contemplating your scheme, he moves another pawn in return.
“Shit.” He hissed at the sight of your exposed tits, nipples hard from the cold air and arousal. “Focus.”
You weren’t sure if that last order was for him or for you, but either way the game kept going. He had enough attention span to grope your breasts and tweak your nipples between the pads of his calloused fingers, while also moving the chess pieces around. You couldn’t say the same for yourself; a louder moan escaping your lips when he replaced his fingers with his mouth.
The more ministrations he provided, the harder it became to make strategic moves. But you were determined not to let him win, regardless of the ache between your legs and the growing wetness in your panties that he refused to attend.
“Joel, I…” He takes away one of your rooks, his lips attached to your neck and hands caressing your inner thighs. “I need more.”
He huffs a laugh that vibrates through your lower body. “That right, angel? Tell me what you want.”
You take away his only bishop left and hear him growl at his approaching defeat. “Touch me, please.”
“Where?” His scent fogs your senses, so manly and distinctive of him, growing the need to feel him in any way possible. “Words, sweetheart.”
“I need your fingers in my cunt, Joel.” You spit out, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat and increasing his arousal with your lack of coyness. “Please.”
“Anything for my pretty girl.” He unbuttons your pants and slides one hand inside, palming your pussy over the underwear, altering your breathing pattern and moving the queen with his free hand. “Fuck, you’re drippin’.” You grind against his hand and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you still as he kneads circles on your clit over the thin fabric. “Your turn, darlin’.”
The game carries on at the same time as he moves your panties aside and slides two thick fingers inside your entrance, his thumb still fondling your nub slowly. You can’t keep your moans at low and the stimulation picks up when he curls his digits to hit your right spots. All that can be heard in the room is the cracking wood of the fireplace and the squelching sounds of your pussy.
“Jesus Christ, Joel…” you cry out his name, burying your face on the crook of his neck, grabbing the soft flannel in your fists and spilling all your whimpers into his ear, delighting yourself with the way he smelt. He groans at the feeling of your bare chest pressed to him, his cock throbbing painfully at every sound you’d make.
“You like that, darlin’? You like to fuck my fingers on top of this table like a needy little whore?” You clench around him and throw your head back, a new wave of slick coating all the way to his knuckles. “Ah, so you do like it.”
“Yes, Joel. I-” he speeds up his pace, greedily circling your clit in a way that makes your back arch, giving him a glorious view from his position.
“Fuck, you’re so hot. Been wanting to do this for so fuckin’ long…” He admits, peppering kisses all over your breasts.
“Me too. Thought about you when I-” your voice gets lost at the sudden feeling of heat settling on your lower stomach, building up your crescendo. “When I was alone.” Your confession only manages to prompt him further and make his movements more effective. You squirm under his touch, a hand messing his hair while the other holds his belt to keep him close.
He groans a deep ‘fuck’ at the pathetic sound you made. All because of him. No; all of them for him.
“Joel, I’m- shit, I’m close,” there’s a hotness on the pit of your stomach that extends to your legs.
“I know, angel.” He coos, his free hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Go ahead, do it.” His words are all it takes for your orgasm to hit, shocking every nerve on your body. He helps you come down from it, tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin as your body quivers from elation.
“Joel…” you whisper, both your hands on his belt and going to unbuckle it, watching as he takes both fingers to his lips and licks them clean.
“Sweet” he kisses you again, deeply. You happily return it with the same energy, nibbling at his bottom lip while your palm slides inside his jeans to feel up his bulge over the underwear. He muffles a moan in your mouth, his hot, hard cock twitching under your grip.
Your hand drifts inside his boxers to feel him directly, your thumb rubbing over the tip to spread the surprising amount of precum that oozed there. Joel gasped into your mouth, the sound prompting you further.
“Checkmate.” You tell him, pulling back only when you needed to breathe, guiding your finger to your tongue in order to taste him. “I won.”
His eyes divert to the board in awe, and you admire his mesmerized expression when he confirms that you had, in fact, won again. Joel comes back to dote on your devilish grin, fueled up by a new thrill of excitement.
“Fuck this…” he mutters through gritted teeth, mindlessly tossing the board to the side and letting it fall off the table along with all the pieces, making an absolute mess. It appears like he doesn’t even register any of it, going straight back to kissing you, his hands sliding your pants down your legs.
“Shit, Joel…” You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, encouraged by his sudden passion.
As your lips collide once again, you start to unbutton his shirt and he helps you out of your jeans, along with your very wet panties. He pushes your back against the wooden surface, holding you down with a hand around your neck.
“Winners that boast in their victory are only brats.” He snarls, taking his dick out for you to see. Your mouth waters at the sight of it: thick, bigger than you could’ve expected, the head swollen and glistening. “Brats need to be tamed.”
You whine when he parts your thighs even wider, teasing your slit with his tip, covering it in your slick and intentionally grazing your aching clit, urging you to grab his bicep for support.
“Can’t you just fuck me already?” You blurt out, the sensation only edging you more. “I might just cum again from all the teasing.”
His fingertip sweeps across your bottom lip, an eyebrow raised. “You really that sensitive, angel?” He questions, “Or is it just because of me?”
The inquiry nearly makes you crack up. Damn, the man was totally clueless. “Are you really that unaware of the effect you have on me?”
His stare reflects how pleased he is to hear that. “How many times did you beat me tonight, sweetheart?”
It takes an actual effort for you to recall and muster up an answer when he keeps toying with you so mercilessly. “Three, I presume.”
Joel’s hand slithers to your lower back, keeping you angled for him. “Then I’ll get you off three times.” Your heart jumps at the sentence and you look at him in disbelief. “Can you do that, angel?”
Three fucking times?
When your whole life men had only ever given you… None, practically. One at most, if you were lucky enough. And Joel mother-fucking Miller had the nerve to ask if you could handle three.
“Bet.” The answer is music to his ears, giving in once and for all as he enters you unhurriedly.
He’s so big and you feel him splitting you open exquisitely, the sensation fading any thoughts, beliefs or identities from your mind. Right now, all you know is him. It stings a little and it forces you to screw your eyes shut, letting out a small whine as he bottoms out, your nails digging on his arm.
“You’re doing s’good, baby.” He continues to say in midst of it, talking your way through it, “Taking me so well…” You think it’s somewhat unfair that he’s still fully clothed and you’re naked as the day you came; yet, at the moment your mind can’t even think of anything but his cock, buried deep inside you. “If something feels off or it becomes to much… Let me know and I’ll stop.” You nod, eagerness starting to scratch your insides.
“Yes. Now can you please, please start moving.” He holds back a chuckle, gazing at you from above, barely lifting your hips to feel more of him.
“Atta girl,” he obeys, thrusting his hips sharply and deep. “Look so pretty beggin’ to be fucked.” His big arm travels to the arch in your back, withdrawing and pushing in again, slowly losing his consciousness to pleasure.
“Fucking hell, you fill me up so good…” he moans gruffly at your comment, pulling you down on his cock as he picks up an unrelenting pace, hitting every right spot as if he knew them all by memory.
“Shit, you’re so tight,” Joel drags in an out, rejoicing himself in every high pitched moan you’d spill. Your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to keep him as close as you could.
The angle is very intimate, his whole body flushed against yours, warm and firm, while your hand snakes under his flannel to dig your nails on his bare shoulders, the other scratching his scalp delicately and Joel’s hot, erratic breaths hitting your face as you gape at him. It’s like everything else disappeared and it was all about the two of you and this moment of pure rapture. Unable to contain your urge, you search for his lips, kissing him one more time, the mixture of mint and alcohol in his mouth fogging your senses in the best way possible.
His tip nudges your g-spot relentlessly, the stretch his girth provided so satisfying that you clench around him as your second orgasm approaches, causing him to pull apart from the kiss and let out a sinful groan, deep from his throat, that sends a shudder up your spine. It all becomes too much; the friction of your delicate nipples with his shirt, his thick cock dragging against your walls and lastly, Joel’s teeth biting down the soft skin under your ear, his facial hair scraping deliciously. That is your cum button.
“That’s my girl, making a mess on my dick,” he fucks you through it, slowing down his pace and only pulling out when your legs tremble. “Say it darlin’, tell me who you belong to.”
“You, Joel…” he basks in the view of your fucked out self, looking up at him in a delirious state, eyes low, heat soared across your cheeks and lips plumped. “Shit, Miller,” you sit up, arm still hanging around his broad shoulders while his hard, throbbing cock rested against your thigh. “You’re so fucking hot, did you know that? It drives me insane.”
He laughs huskily, his big hand caressing the side of your face in a caring manner. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, “I think I might’ve fucked you so hard I scrambled your brain.”
You actually crack up this time, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering an: “Idiot.” He grabs your thighs and methodically swirls your body, flushing your back against his chest. Without warning, he slams into you again, making you yelp at the sudden action.
“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” he pokes fun at you, “next time we’ll put it to use.” And the promise raises goosebumps on your skin.
This new position gave you the opportunity to feel him deeper, if that was even possible. His thighs and hips firm against yours, every single snap making you feel that delicious stretch he provided as your cunt envelopes him tightly. But you were already far too sensitive and every light touch added to his thrusts made your body feel weaker.
“Joel, I-” he holds you with an arm covering your waist, his fingers pinching your nipples. “Fuck, I won’t last…”
He becomes more vocal, his disjointed moans drifting from his lips right into your ear while the hand on your hip makes its way to rub your clit gloriously, in a way that makes you wonder just how the fuck does he know exactly what your body likes.
“Is my sweet girl gonna cum for me?” you nod, unable to form any words, only capable of reveling on the way his cock throbs inside you. “Speak, remember?”
But you can’t. Nothing comes out of your mouth besides his name, like a constant plea. When the third one finally came, it was simply euphoric; your whole body shudders and your vision goes white, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as you start to feel lightheaded. Joel draws out with a grunt, a string of curses leaving his lips as you spin around to see him. Your hand wraps around his own when he fucks his fist and you take in the sight of him cumming all over your fingers, his forehead laying on your shoulder as you milk him. Inevitably, you lick your fingers to taste his salty load. A sight that would be engraved in his brain for the rest of his days and that could possibly haunt him in his time apart from you.
“Checkmate my ass,” he grits between shaky breaths, your hand stroking his hair as he comes down from his high.
“What a sore loser…” you joke. In fact, you plan to say something more, but you feel too tired for anything.
It didn’t really matter, though. Joel took good care of you. He bathed with you, cleaned up the whole mess and gave you one of his shirts for you to sleep with, eventually going to bed with your very passed out self.
Well, if Ellie didn’t know anything before, she surely will now.
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Unexpected Trip
Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: Some people think you're too good for Bucky, who they see as just a nobody. Little do they know the backstory of both of you from 5 years ago.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!" The cheery chorus filled the sunny garden as friends and neighbors gathered around. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the table was adorned with a colorful array of treats.
Your son, Tommy, was wide-eyed with wonder at the commotion, his little hands clapping together with glee.
You knew he was too young to remember this day, but the joy on his face was enough to make every moment worthwhile.
Bucky, your husband, stood beside you, a proud smile on his face as he watched Tommy's excitement. "Can you believe he's already three?" you said, leaning over to Bucky, who nodded, his eyes never leaving Tommy.
"I know, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Time really does fly."
As Tommy blew out the candles on his cake, the guests cheered, and Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm so glad we decided to have this party," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Even if he won't remember it, we will."
You smiled, feeling grateful for this moment of togetherness. "Me too," you said, watching Tommy's delighted face. "Here's to many more birthdays filled with love and laughter."
As you, Bucky, and Tommy were lost in your own world of celebration, the neighbors, known gossips of the neighborhood, couldn't resist whispering among themselves.
"I heard she got promoted to become the Director," murmured Mrs. Jenkins, a woman known for her keen interest in everyone's business, her eyes darting over to where you and Bucky stood.
Mrs. Thompson, a perpetually nosy neighbor, chimed in eagerly, "Wow, I knew she's a career woman since the first time I met her." Her voice carried a tone of admiration mixed with a hint of envy.
Standing nearby, Mr. Wilson, a retired gentleman with a penchant for spreading juicy tidbits, leaned in conspiratorially. "And she has a perfect house-husband," he added with a knowing nod in Bucky's direction.
The fourth neighbor, Mrs. Patel, a woman with a sharp tongue and a love for scandal, couldn't resist joining the conversation. "I don't want to sound rude, but she's too good for Bucky. He's just a nobody," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Mrs. Jenkins leaned closer, her eyes widening with exaggerated shock. "And guess what?" she whispered, drawing the others in.
"What?" Mrs. Thompson asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued.
"I heard a rumor that Bucky used to be a driver, like a courier," Mrs. Jenkins revealed,l.
Mrs. Patel gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "Omg! And he met Y/N? He hit the jackpot!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening as if she had just uncovered a scandalous secret.
Mr. Wilson chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I think in Bucky's previous life he saved a universe," he joked, adding to the whimsical nature of the gossip.
Meanwhile, you and Bucky remained oblivious to the whispers behind you, too engrossed in Tommy's joyous laughter as he played with his friends. Bucky had his arm around you, pulling you closer, unaware of the drama unfolding in the background.
Little did the gossiping neighbors know, they were 10% right, at least when it came to the part about Bucky saving someone.
You see, Bucky wasn't just a nobody. He wasn't just a regular driver. To be precise, it all goes back to five years ago.
5 Years Ago
You had just arrived in Russia, alone and shivering from the cold. This wasn't a holiday trip; it was for business.
Unfortunately, your luck had run out, and you were the chosen one sent by your less-than-friendly manager, who knew the bid was a long shot. You were the scapegoat.
It wasn't until you were on the plane, reading the documents, that the truth hit you like a ton of bricks.
Shaking with cold, you reached for your phone and dialed your colleague. "Is there someone to pick me up at the airport?"
"You've arrived? I almost forgot. I suppose someone should be waiting for you. Check to see if there's a sign with your name at the exit gate," came the reply before the call abruptly ended.
"Huh?" You couldn't believe it. The company had tossed you out like yesterday's news, leaving you stranded like a lost child in a foreign country.
"I swear, if I had a lot of money, I'd buy the company's shares and fire every single one of them," you grumbled to yourself, dragging your small suitcase behind you toward the exit gate, uncertain of what awaited you.
As you approached, you spotted a person holding a sign. You gathered your resolve and approached them, saying, "Hi, it's me."
You finally took a good look at the person holding your name sign. He was pretty tall and muscular for a driver, more suited to be a bodyguard.
With a swift motion, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, you couldn't help but think, "Damn, he's fine."
He pointed towards your suitcase. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.
"Huh? Oh yeah," you replied, momentarily distracted by his good looks.
"Follow me," he said simply, then turned and walked ahead.
You hurried to catch up, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue. This wasn't the welcome you expected, but you followed him nonetheless.
After a quick walk, the two of you stopped in front of a black BMW. The design of the car felt straight out of the '90s.
"Get in," Bucky said, opening the backseat door.
You complied, noticing that your driver seemed to be a man of few words. "Um, what's your name?" you asked as you fastened your seatbelt.
"Bucky. Bucky Barnes," he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he started the car.
Then, glancing at the rearview mirror, he added, "Always watch your back."
"What? What do you mean?" you asked, a hint of unease creeping into your voice.
Bucky shifted gears and increased the speed. "Just in case," he said cryptically, his focus on the road ahead.
You couldn't shake off the feeling of mystery surrounding Bucky. As the car smoothly glided through the streets of Russia, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of business you had genuinely stepped into.
Bucky glanced at you through the rearview mirror as the car continued its swift journey through the city. "You came here without knowing anything?" he asked, his voice serious.
"I knew that other countries also put a bid on this project," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.
"True," Bucky acknowledged. "Do you know what kind of representatives the other countries sent here too?"
Your voice turned into a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "Not like me?"
Bucky's eyes flicked to the side mirror, noticing a few cars trailing behind them. " And they've arrived too," he confirmed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.
Feeling a surge of panic, you turned around to look out the rear window. "Oh, shit," you muttered under your breath.
There was a group of cars following behind you both, and their windows opened. Someone appeared with a gun pointed at your car.
Bucky shifted gears again, the car picking up speed. "Don't bite your tongue, Miss Y/N," he said calmly, his focus unwavering on the road ahead.
You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation. The cars following them meant trouble; you were right in the middle. Gripping the door handle tightly, you braced for whatever was to come, grateful that Bucky knew what he was doing.
The chase was like something out of a movie, but the fear gripping your heart was all too real. The car Bucky drove was bulletproof, a small comfort in the chaos unfolding around you.
"KYAAA!"
Yet, despite the safety of the car, you couldn't shake off the primal fear that clawed at your chest. This was the first time you had ever found yourself in such a dangerous situation, and the adrenaline surged through your veins.
"Oh god, oh god," you muttered, your voice filled with panic as you clutched onto the door handle, your knuckles turning white.
Bucky, on the other hand, remained surprisingly calm. His hands moved expertly over the steering wheel, navigating through the narrow streets with precision. "Hold on tight," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos outside.
You could hear the sound of gunfire, bullets ricocheting off the car's armored exterior. The world outside seemed to blur as Bucky weaved in and out of traffic, the pursuing cars hot on your tail.
"What do we do? What do we do?" you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest.
Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Trust me," he said cryptically, before reaching for a button on the dashboard.
With a click, the back of the car transformed. Panels shifted, revealing an array of weapons hidden within. Your eyes widened in disbelief as a gun turret emerged from the rear of the car, whirring to life.
"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, both terrified and amazed at the same time.
Bucky didn't hesitate. He maneuvered the car expertly, aligning the gun turret with the pursuing vehicles. With a press of a button, the turret unleashed a barrage of bullets, hitting the cars behind you with precision.
The sound of metal tearing and tires screeching filled the air as the pursuing vehicles swerved and crashed, their drivers no match for the firepower of Bucky's car.
You watched in awe and horror as the scene unfolded behind you, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I can't believe this," you whispered, your eyes wide with disbelief.
Bucky remained focused, his eyes scanning the road ahead. "Welcome to the world of high-stakes business, Miss Y/N," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.
As you both sped away from the gunfire, the intensity of the moment left you breathless. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made you wonder how Bucky could remain so calm, and how his car seemed to be designed for situations like this.
"Bucky, are you really just a driver?" you asked, your voice filled with astonishment and curiosity.
Bucky, focused on the road ahead, replied without missing a beat. "Most of the time I work as a getaway driver."
"What?!" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise.
Bucky glanced at you briefly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I have a few skills up my sleeve," he said cryptically, his eyes returning to the road as he expertly navigated the streets.
You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath after the intense chase. "Huff... huff... I have to win this damn bid. I almost lost my life. If I win, I will demand a promotion, and for you too, Bucky."
Bucky chuckled. "Thank you," he replied, his laughter mixing with relief as the moment's tension dissipated
Bucky glanced at you, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "You know, Miss Y/N, I'm impressed," he said, his voice tinged with respect.
You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Impressed? Why?"
"Because even though you were scared out of your mind back there," Bucky explained, gesturing vaguely to the chaos that had just unfolded, "you still have the drive to win this bid. That takes courage."
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, touched by his words. "Well, I don't want to go through all of this for nothing," you replied, a hint of determination in your voice.
Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I understand. And I believe you have what it takes to succeed."
As the car continued on its journey, you felt a newfound sense of confidence swelling within you. Despite the danger and the unexpected twists, you were determined to make this business trip count. With Bucky by your side, you felt like you could take on anything that came your way.
"Thank you, Bucky," you said, gratitude evident in your voice.
He smiled, a reassuring presence beside you. "Anytime, Miss Y/N. We make a good team."
And at that moment, as the city lights blurred past the windows of the car, you knew that this business trip would be far more than just a bid. It would be an adventure, with Bucky as your unexpected ally.
🚗
After you won the bid, you demanded a meeting with the CEO and threatened to sue the company if you weren't promoted.
Asserting your worth, you stood firm, and the CEO eventually relented, granting you the promotion you rightfully deserved.
As you stood in the office, your evil manager and colleague before you, the air was charged with tension. They both wore expressions of surprise and disbelief, clearly caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness.
"Good afternoon," you began, your voice steady and firm. "I requested this meeting to inform you both that your employment with this company is terminated, effective immediately."
The evil manager scoffed, a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You can't do that. You're just a new employee."
You met his gaze, unwavering. "Actually, as of today, I've been promoted to a position where I have the authority to make such decisions."
The lazy colleague chimed in, who answered your call at the airport. Her voice laced with disdain. "This is ridiculous. You're letting power go to your head."
You shook your head, a steely resolve in your eyes. "No, this is about accountability and integrity. Both of you have demonstrated a lack of professionalism and ethics that is unacceptable in this company. And you make me go alone knowing that the trips was a high risk."
The evil manager tried to argue, but you held up a hand to silence him. "There's no need for further discussion. Your actions have consequences, and now you're facing them."
With that, you handed them their termination letters, each neatly printed with the company seal. The evil manager's face turned red with anger, while the evil colleague's eyes widened in shock.
"This is unfair!" the evil manager shouted, his voice filled with outrage.
You remained calm, unfazed by his outburst. "It's the consequences of your own actions," you replied firmly.
Othrr colleague tried to plead for another chance, but you stood your ground. "I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable," you said, your tone resolute.
As they gathered their things and left the office, the weight of their absence felt like a burden lifted from their shoulders. You watched them go, feeling a sense of relief and empowerment.
🚗
One day, the memories of Russia tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself longing to return, this time for a personal visit to see Bucky. With determination, you booked a flight and arrived at his apartment.
Bucky greeted you warmly, a smile spreading across his face. "Miss Y/N," he said with genuine happiness.
"Bucky," you replied, matching his smile. "I couldn't resist coming back to see you."
You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness. "I wanted to thank you," you began, gratitude filling your voice. "For everything. You were there for me in Russia, and I couldn't have done it without you."
Bucky's expression softened, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth. "It was my pleasure. You showed courage and determination. I was just glad to be a part of it."
"I wanted to ask," you continued, gathering your courage, "if you would consider coming with me. With my promotion, I have the opportunity to lead new projects, and I can think of no one better to have by my side."
Bucky's eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your offer. After a moment of contemplation, a smile slowly spread across his face. "I would be honored," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I believe we make a good team."
Bucky smiled warmly, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he grabbed his car keys and jacket. "To celebrate, let me pay for tonight's dinner. My treat," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.
You couldn't help but feel gratitude and happiness at his offer. "That sounds wonderful." you replied, a smile spreading across your face.
That's how the love story between you and Bucky started.
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Happy birthday, Mr Miller || Dbf!Joel x reader
Summary: Your situation gets complicated as your dad realizes what is going on between you and his best friend.
CW: Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 36), angst, a bit of violence, y/n’s dad is an asshole, oral sex (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, he talks you through it, praise kink, creampie
This is part 2 of Mr Miller’s birthday gift
Since your birthday, you kept seeing Joel in secret when you could. Only your three close friends knew: Sam, Allison and Bianca. You two were careful, you saw each other only when Sarah, Joel’s daughter, wasn’t home and when your dad thought you were with friends. Besides having sex with him, you two had private dates at your place or at his. You really liked him, and you thought he liked you too. But your situation was complicated, between your 15 years age gap and the fact that he was your dad’s best friend.
And today, it would become even more complicated.
It was the end of September, Joel’s birthday. Of course, you had come to the small get-together with your dad, and you were the one who baked the cake for your lover. Your dad didn’t think anything of it, you always cared for your dad’s best friend, and vice-versa.
You were patient, that night. Waiting for your moment alone with him, waiting for Tommy, your dad and a few of their friends to leave and for Sarah to fall asleep. You ate the cake, that you got lots of compliments for, with everyone and chatted with Sarah about school and boys.
But you fucked up. Really hard.
When you went to the bathroom, you took the time to send a text to Joel.
Can’t wait to have you all for me, babe.
He had responded with:
Can’t wait to have my birthday gift, sweet girl. 😉 You look amazing in that dress.
You smiled at your phone and set it on the counter while you washed your hands. The phone stayed there, forgotten, when you went back to the party. Joel shot a smile at you, and you stayed by his and your dad’s side. Your dad excused himself before going to the bathroom after you.
Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Joel put his hand on your lower back and squeezed you closer to him, before whispering: “You tease.” In your ear.
You smiled innocently at him and took some of the icing left on his plate, before spreading in on his perfect nose.
Your dad was back, so you backed away from Joel and went up to him, seeing that he had found your phone.
“Oh, dad! Thanks, I guess my mind was somewhere else…” You tried to take the phone from his hands, but his fingers pressed around it harder, his knuckles becoming white under the pressure.
“You’re gonna have some explaining to do, y/n. And you too, Joel.” His voice was stern, almost scary. Your dad was rarely mad at his sweet girl, so you froze in place under the tone he used.
Tommy – bless him – suggested that everyone went back inside to have a few drinks and for Sarah to warm up, as she seemed to be cold.
You backed off from your dad, your back hitting Joel’s chest. He put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You watched, terrified, as your dad unlocked your phone.
“I saw that it had a notification, so I opened it to see whose phone it was. I realized it was yours, y/n, and that you were texting my best friend.”
He then read aloud your exchanges with your lover – his best friend, also stating when he found dirty pictures. Then, he smashed the phone against the pavement, disgusted. Your whole body was paralyzed, the only movement coming from the tears falling from your eyes.
“Explain yourselves. Now.” He was shouting. You felt like a kid again under your dad’s gaze.
Joel let your shoulder go and went closer to your dad, his hands up like he was trying to prove his innocence to a police officer.
“Look… Steve… It was just a stupid fling, okay. I’m sorry.”
Your brows furrowed together. “A stupid fling, Joel? That’s all it fucking was?”
“A stupid fling with MY DAUGHTER?!” Your dad repeated, although he wasn’t mad for the same reason as you.
Without having the time to stop him, you saw your dad’s fist meet Joel’s jaw. Your lover then pushed him back, before spitting on the ground.
“We don’t have to fight over this, Steve…”
“Look, dad, it’s my fault. Okay. I didn’t give him much of a choice. And I really like him.” You added.
“You’re in love with a man that’s almost forty, girl?!”
“YES. And maybe I can make it work better than you with mom. It’s none of your fucking business what I do with whom, just like it wasn’t any of my business when you cheated on mom with the neighbor.”
Joel’s eyebrows raised up. He never heard you speak back like that, and he was sincerely impressed.
Your dad went back to charge at Joel because he couldn’t hit his daughter, but thankfully, Tommy went out at the same moment to check on everyone and he held him back.
“I think it’s time you go home, Steve.” Tommy said between gritted teeth.
Your dad pushed him away, grabbed his stuff and left. You heard his car speeding in the street. He was really gone. You turned to Joel and caressed his bruised jaw.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, don’t worry, hun’… had worse.”
Tommy cleared his throat. “I’ll tell everyone that the party’s over and bring Sarah home for a while.”
Joel went to talk to Tommy, thank everyone and reassure Sarah. You felt numb as you waited for him. You just sat in the grass, legs to your chest, as you cried silently, eyes on your phone that was broken in pieces. You had a hard time breathing.
“Hey… hun’… let’s get back in, okay?”
He helped you getting up on your feet and he held you close, before helping you sit on the couch when you two were inside. Your chest was raising and falling at a fast rhythm, like you were trying to catch your breath. You tried to control your breathing, but you were just a sobbing mess.
“So, am I just a fling, Joel?” You finally asked through your tears.
“Hey… hey… look at me.” He kneeled in front of you and held your face in his warm, familiar hands. You sniffed loudly and looked at him, miserable.
“Of course, it’s not just a fling. Or else I would have ended things right after your birthday, okay? I was just trying to calm your dad down… But you really stirred the pot, haven’t you?”
“M’sorry…” Your face fell into the crook of his neck as he held you closely.
“He kinda deserved it.” He shrugged
“What do we do now…?”
He backed off to look at you, soft and warm brown eyes locked on yours.
“Your dad will get over it. Guess there’s… no more secrets now.”
“And what do we tell Sarah?”
He pressed his lips against yours in a soft, loving kiss.
“That we are in love and that you are my girlfriend. She really loves you, hun’, she won’t mind at all.”
You cleaned the tears off your face with your arm.
“Are we in love?”
A small smile tugged at Joel’s lips. “Well, I am. Are you?”
“Of course, I am!” You put your arms around him to attract his body against yours. He laid on you, trying not to crush you under his weight.
“So, we’ll be okay.”
You nodded.
“I’ll text Tommy to ask him to bring Sarah back. I’ll tell her that we are dating, so you don’t stress more about it, okay?”
“No… look, just spend some quality time with your daughter, okay? If she asks questions, you can tell her, but… I don’t want you to drop that like a bomb. I’ll… go home, and find an old phone to replace the broken one… I’ll come back after Sarah’s sleeping time.”
He agreed, as he respected what you wanted first. He got up to let you leave the couch. You stole a final kiss from him.
“Sorry I ruined your birthday… I’ll… make it up to you.”
A grin tugged the corner of his lips as he was remembering what he had said to you on that special birthday.
***
You didn’t find a useable phone, so you had to buy a new one. You would send the receipt to your dad later. He didn’t try calling you or texting you – as your previous phone was crushed. You would let him rot in his silence for a while and let the dust die down. You spent the rest of the day taking care of yourself, to wash the guilt off your shoulders.
“New phone, who dis?” You texted Joel.
You didn’t expect him to respond right away. It was getting late, near Sarah’s bed time. But he did, soon after.
“Hi babe. Sarah won’t go to sleep because she wants to talk to you.”
“Haha. Coming over now, okay?”
You felt a knot of nervousness tying your insides. You got out of your pajamas and switched to clothes that were still comfortable – loose shorts and a random band t-shirt from your drawer.
***
The door was opened wide by Sarah. She was in her pjs, and her beautiful curls were all free. Before you even stepped a foot inside, she jumped in your arms and held you close – if she was stronger, she would be crushing your ribs. You laughed and held her in a tight embrace.
She pulled you inside, where Joel was waiting in the living room. He smiled at you as you sat on the couch beside him, with Sarah.
“What did you want to talk about, sweetheart?” You asked to Joel’s daughter.
“I wanted to say that… You would be an awesome stepmom.”
You looked at Joel in disbelief.
“She asked me a ton of questions, okay, I tried…” He defended himself.
“I will… do my best.” You smiled, pulling Sarah close to press a kiss on the top of her head.
“Now, go to sleep babygirl, it’s past your bedtime.” Her dad told her firmly.
“Ooookay. G’night.” She got back up and kissed her father on the cheek, before disappearing upstairs.
It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.
“Fuck, I need a drink.” You sighed with a laugh.
“I got’chu, darlin’.” He disappeared momentarily in the kitchen and came back with two opened beers. You put the drink to your lips and sighed pleasantly under the freshness of the liquid.
“Did you try talking to your dad?”
“Nah, since he smashed my fucking phone. Did you?”
“Language!” You laughed at his reprimand. “He doesn’t respond. He gets like that when he’s mad… He’ll call when he’s done being mad.”
“I hope… you don’t lose your friendship with dad.”
“Me too. But I think he will need time to get used to this though…”
You agreed.
“Hm… Let’s talk about something else! It’s your birthday after all, Mr Miller.” You smiled innocently, knowing he liked to be called like that a little too much.
“You did say you’d make it up to me…” He said as he pressed his hand on the back of your head, bringing your face closer to his. Your eyes went momentarily to his lips, before you felt them on yours, a wave of tenderness and hunger flowing at the same time through your bodies. Your beers found their way to the table, as you trapped Joel’s legs between your thighs. You deepened the kiss, taking control of the situation in a way that you liked. He was already feeling drunk on your lips.
“Let’s go up to my room… we can lock the door, hm?” You agreed. He took back his control over you, getting up while he was holding you against him. You wrapped your legs around him and Joel brought you up the stairs.
This felt… different. You would usually sneak in late at night so Sarah wouldn’t know. You’d spend a few hours and sadly, leave before the morning. But now… you could stay as long as you wanted to. He wanted you there. And his daughter did too.
Your butt met the soft mattress, as you were still lost in your thoughts. You suddenly felt your eyes filling up with happy tears. Joel stopped in his tracks, his fingers leaving your shirt he was trying to pull up.
“Y’okay, baby?”
“Yeah, yeah…” You sniffled and wiped your tears away. “I’m just really happy.”
He smiled brightly, a smile that could light up the darkest nights.
“Love you.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your lips.
You responded to his love with a deep and heated kiss, as you pulled him on top of you, laying your back on the mattress. His strong thighs held down your hips. You broke the kiss only to hastily take off his stupidly tight black t-shirt that made his biceps pop more. He also took this opportunity to take off yours, smirking as he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Joel’s fingers caressed the soft skin of your breasts, before they started playing with your hard nipples. You whined against his mouth, your hips bucking into him, desperate for his touch. He listened to the pleas of your body and pulled down your shorts and your panties. Your hands found their way into the elastic of his grey sweatpants, freeing him of the clothing, including his underwear. The freeing of his throbbing member seemed to release some tension in his body.
Your hand circled his perfect length, pumping him a few times.
“Wanna suc-…”
You didn’t finish your sentence; Joel had already switched the position of your bodies. You laughed softly as you went down his beautiful body, leaving kisses on the dark hair that trailed down his belly button, then at the base of his cock. You took him slowly into your mouth, taking the time to feel every vein, every inch of skin you discovered. Joel put his arms behind his head to support it, that way, he got a better view. He wanted a show? You’d give him one.
You took his length further in your mouth, as far as you could, your hand wrapping around what you couldn’t reach.
“You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth.” He whispered, and you moaned around him under his praises.
You started bobbing your head up and down as you caressed the base of his length. You looked at him through your lashes, wanting to see how much you pleased him. His body was relaxed, but his eyes were shut, and his lips were closed tightly. Your lover didn’t want to make a sound, and you understood, with your current situation, but you wanted so badly to hear him moan. You took your time with him, filled with patience as your lips caressed every inch you could reach, your saliva mixing with his pre-cum.
You knew he wanted more when he started pushing on the back of your head, urging you to go faster and deeper.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby.” He cooed.
God. You loved hearing his flatteries. You whined around him as your movements got faster, desperate to get more praises.
“Can you touch yourself f’me, hm?” Joel asked in a hoarse voice that only made you want to obey him even more.
Your digits traveled to your wet folds, finding your clit, that you stimulated. You were going to a fast rhythm, both to stimulate yourself and his member. You felt him squirm under you, before he pulled out his cock from your parted lips.
“S’too much.” He left a kiss on your lips. “Le’mme touch you”.
You went back to your initial spot. He turned his body towards you and his fingers replaced yours. You moaned softly as he was stimulating you perfectly. He kept circling your clit at a fast rhythm, as two fingers found their way to your entrance. You tensed up and pulled your lover close, your arms circling his broad shoulders.
“I know, I know… If you promise to stay silent, I’ll make you cum.” You nodded and bit your lip as Joel’s fingers fucked you roughly. Your legs started to shake as you emptied your juices on his fingers. You stayed perfectly silent, although you might have hurt your lip in the process.
“Good girl.” His fingers left you, leaving you empty, but he didn’t take too long before filling your walls with his dick.
He stopped his hips when he was done filling you up all the way, letting you adjust to his girth. No matter how many times you two had sex, you were still having a hard time getting used to him.
His calloused hand caressed softly one of your cheeks that was still glistening with tears from earlier. You looked up at him with a smile, admiring how good he looked on top of you. Your legs wrapped around his hips to keep him impossibly close.
“Filling me up so well, Joel…” You whined near his ear, before nipping at the skin of his lobe.
Joel groaned under your praises and started moving slowly, concentrating on stretching you out for him before he got rougher. After a few pushes, you started rolling your hips, your body begging for more. He followed the rhythm you set. You had a hard time keeping your eyes open, but still, you forced your eyelids not to shut, only to be able to admire him: his dark eyes, the sweat forming on his forehead, the strong arms holding you in place, the delicious way his body molded yours. You wanted to engrave this vision in your mind. Joel saw how intensively you were looking at him, which seemed to amuse him. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips as he slowed down the swing of his hips to last longer.
“M'not going anywhere, hun’.” His nose brushed with yours.
“I know… I love you, Joel.” Your lips captured his once again as you brought him even closer to you with the press of your ankles on his ass.
Everything felt different that night. The way he took his time, the way you both showed your love, a love that you didn’t dare letting out before. The swing of his hips set a new pace for both of you, slow and rough. Your hand went to your wet folds increase your pleasure, the way your digits circled your clit at a fast pace contrasting with his slow movements.
“C’mon hun’, cum on my cock…”
It was getting harder to muffle your moans, and he did notice. He put the palm of one of his hands against your mouth, so he could muffle your cries. Your fingers pressed harder against your clit as you felt your release taking over you, your wetness enveloping Joel’s dick.
Now that you were done, he could concentrate on chasing his own high. His thrusts got faster, and his hips would stutter only when he was getting closer. You kissed his temple and let your walls tighten around him to increase Joel’s arousal.
“Fill me up, baby…” You whispered.
“God.” He grunted as he finally granted your wish, warm liquid shooting between your walls.
When he pulled out, he took the time to admire the mixture of your juices coming out of your stretched hole.
“You pervert.” You whispered with a laugh.
“Hmhm. Let’s go wash ourselves and then sleep, okay? It’s also past your bedtime.”
“Yes, sir.”
You kissed him as you got up and disappeared with him in the nearest bathroom to fill your most domestic fantasies.
#joel miller#dbf joel miller#dbf joel#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x yn#joel miller smut#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal x yn#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x y/n
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Happy birthday Liam!!!! @withacapitalp love U hope U enjoy ya lil pressie.
When Steve was young he loved exploring the woods behind his house. It was quiet there, peaceful. He liked looking up into the trees, watching the birds pass between their branches. One day he found a small pond near his favourite clearing. He watched the little fish and insects swim around, the frogs and the tadpoles. He would lay down on the grass and listen to the splashes of the pond and the wind and the birds and just breathe.
He went there as often as he could, he felt like himself there. One day, as he lay peacefully on the ground, the sun was suddenly blocked from his vision. He blinked his eyes open only to be startled by another boy standing over him.
"Hi!" The boy exclaimed, undeterred by the look of shock on Steve's face. The other boy had a wide grin, his front teeth were missing a hole that matched the ones in his jeans.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Eddie, I'm looking for frogs have you seen any?"
Steve glanced over to his pond, "Maybe, why are you looking for them?"
"I like watching them jump!" Eddie giggled. Steve cracked a smile at this, happy to hear the boy wished no harm upon his friends.
"C'mon there's lots of frogs over here," Steve replied grabbing Eddie's hand and pulling him closer to the pond.
The boys spent the day running around the clearing, watching the frogs and imitating their hops. Steve felt free, he felt whole. Eventually the sun began to set and the boys had to say goodbye.
"You'll be here tomorrow won't you?"
"All summer long, Eds."
But Steve wouldn't be back tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. You see when Steve returned home the evidence of his travels were written on his clothes. Grass stains, tears in his jeans, mud on his face and sticks in his hair. His mother was furious and forbid Steve from ever returning to the woods. Steve spent his days at Tommy's house for the rest of the summer.
When school returned Steve looked for Eddie but the boy seemed elusive, it was too late, Steve would never have that one perfect day again.
Years passed and the memory of that summer faded, Steve didn't return to the woods even after his parents stopped returning to their house.
Until one day, a month after the events of Starcourt Mall, Steve awoke in the early morning from a nightmare. His body moved on instinct as he quickly dressed and ran out the back door and jumping the fence. His body kept moving as he mind begged to feel safe. Eventually he stopped and crashed to the ground in sobs.
The pond laid before him, the soft splashes soothed him until only silent tears ran down his face.
"Harrington?"
Steve turned, on edge once more, and there he was, taller now, teeth grown back but Eddie Munson was here in their spot again.
"Eddie."
"Are you okay?" Eddie's opinion on Steve had soured in the years since that summer, but it didn't stop him craving the Steve Harrington he first met, the one he first loved and now he could see that Steve in the crying boy before him.
"Yeah, yeah um, I'm fine."
"Ok." Eddie knew he was lying but didn't want to push. He sat down beside Steve watching the pond.
"What're you doing here?"
"What am I doing here? You're the one that never came back Steve." The hurt from years ago bit through Eddie's words.
"I'm sorry, I wanted to but my parents stopped me." Eddie could understand that, he knew bad parents and while different the Harringtons were no less bad than his own.
"You're here now I guess."
"Sorry I'm late."
"It's ok, sweetheart, wasn't waiting long." Steve smiled at the name.
The boys sat and watched the frogs jump around the pond until Steve breathed easier. When they parted ways Steve echoed the question he was asked all those years ago.
"You'll be here tomorrow won't you?"
"All summer long, Stevie."
This time, they kept their promise.
#i really just wanted to give u a fic with frogs lol#happy birthday liam#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#ficlet
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Make A Wish
T | 654 words
Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is making a birthday extra special
For as long as Steve can remember, Valentines has always been emphasized to him as a special day. A day full of love, and joy, and connection. A day where he could tell anyone that he loves them, even Tommy, and no one would give him so much as a glance.
It's been a while since he's been able to properly celebrate the day though. With the Upside Down, the constant fear that it would come back, that people would get hurt again, always buzzing in the back of his head...
Well, it never felt right.
But, now that it's finally and truly over? He's excited to celebrate. He has his soulmate, the best friend that he could ever wish for and loves with all his heart... and he might have a boyfriend.
"You will have a boyfriend," Robin corrects. "He's been flirting with you for months. If he doesn't make a move first, he'll be stumbling over himself to say yes."
She's right.
He rushes to agree to the date when Steve asks, stuttering in his hurry. But, instead of asking Steve what he has planned, he asks if he can surprise Steve.
"I was thinking about asking you, but... I don't know, I got too nervous, I guess. But it's a good idea, so..."
"Sure, yeah. It'll be nice to be on this end for once."
When Eddie picks him up, he insists that Steve sit in the back of the van so he can't see anything before they arrive.
He climbs over the seats when they do arrive, blindfolding him.
"This way, mind your step, just a little further..." Eddie mumbles, gently leading Steve. "Ok. You ready?"
"Yeah."
When he pulls the blindfold off, there's a burst of noise and color.
They're at the Byers new place. It's covered in decorations, confetti in the air, and everyone stood around cheering.
The banner has a bubbly, colorful, "happy birthday!" drawn on.
"Happy birthday," El says, the first to step up. She holds up a present. "I am very happy to know you."
"Oh. Thanks, El. But, uh..." He glances around, until finally finding Eddie tucked in a corner. "How did you know that today is my birthday?"
"Overheard some old flame of yours one time," Eddie explains. "She was convinced that you two were meant to be, entirely because you were born on valentine's day."
"Seriously?"
"Right?"
"Steve!" Dustin calls, waving him towards the kitchen. "Nevermind that! Come on, we made a cake! And there's presents, but we should do cake first!"
The kids, as it turns out, really did make the kids themselves. It's not bad either, especially after melted chocolate and whip cream is poured over it, almost drowning it.
The gifts from the kids are all homemade.
Steve is sure that they're the best gifts he's ever received.
"Happy birthday," Robin whispers, as she hugs him goodbye. "And good luck, yeah?"
"Won't need it," he whispers back. "This night is too perfect for it to fail now."
He decides to wait until they pull up outside his house. Then, if it works out? They can go inside. If it fails? Easy exit.
But, as soon as they pull up, Eddie beats him to the punch.
"Hey," he starts, nervous. "I hope you enjoyed today and-"
"I did. Really, it was amazing. Thanks, Ed. It means a lot, more than you can imagine."
"It was nothing. It's... I don't want to ruin that if you don't- I won't take it bad, is what I mean. I just think you should know, uh... you're so loved. By, uh, me."
"You love me?"
"Yeah, Steve. I really do, so much."
"I love you too."
"Really?"
"Yeah, dumbass. I asked you on a date."
"... oh, fuck, you did."
Steve laughs, reaching over to grab his collar and drag him into a kiss.
It really is the perfect end to the perfect day.
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the forgotten daughter- Tommy Shelby
summary- tommy sent his daughter away because she was a burden he wasn’t ready for. she went 12 years without seeing him once, what happens when she gets an invitation to his wedding?
trigger warning- talks of abuse, neglect, rape, violence, illness.
angst
dad!tommy shelby x daughter!reader
you were 6 when you were sent away to a girls school in manchester. your father, thomas shelby, had told you that ‘he couldn’t be a father’ and that he was ‘too busy to be burdened with a child’. you were now 18 and hadn’t seen your family since. the last time you had received a letter from your father was when you were 17 and it was to inform you about the birth of his son, charles shelby.
you were enraged. it was unfair that he saw charles as a blessing and you as a burden. that he could step up to be a father then but not 17 years ago. you had practically raised yourself for the last 12 years. every birthday you stole a cupcake from the canteen at the school and sung yourself happy birthday. every christmas you receive pitying looks from the nuns because you were one of the only children to stay in the four walls of your dormitory whilst all the other girls spent time with their families.
you had just finished your last year and was lucky enough to get a job straight out of straight out of school which allowed you to buy yourself a small flat. you sent a letter to your father to let him know that you were safe and you gave him your address although you never knew whether he received the letter because he never wrote back. until a week ago when he sent you a wedding invitation.
deciding to attend was the easiest decision. you knew you wanted to see him one last time before you ultimately cut all communication and moved on, knowing that there was no point in hoping he would acknowledge you as his daughter. you were however grateful that he paid for your education, even if he did abandon you for 12 years.
you used your savings to buy a new dress before getting the train to birmingham and paying for a taxi to the church. as you stood outside the venue you pondered on whether this was a good idea, but you knew you had to do this in order to accept that you were alone in this world. you sat at the back with your head down for the entirety of the ceremony. you didn’t even put your head up to see the bride. as selfish as it sounded, you didn’t care for the wedding and you did not care about their happiness.
when the ceremony was finished, you stood outside of the church with a cigarette in your hand whilst your ‘family’ took photos. next to you, a gentleman was doing the same thing. he was also glaring at the family and you wondered what his issue was.
“what did they do to you?” you scoffed.
“huh?” he raised his brow
“if looks could kill, they’d be slaughtered by now” you joked.
“i just don’t like the groom” he shrugged.
“me neither” you agreed. “y/n” you reached your hand out to shake his.
“alfie” he reciprocated. “so why don’t you like him?” he asked.
“im his daughter” you nonchalantly replied.
“never new tom had a daughter”
“yeah he seems to forget aswell” you shrugged.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“it means he shipped me away for 12 years whilst he fucked off and had a family” you smiled. “fancy giving me a lift to this reception?” you linked his arm.
“absolutely. i think we will get along just fine” he grunted. and you smiled at him.
you both walked to his car and he held the door open for you. “didn’t take you for a gentleman” you bantered.
“is it the cockney accent that gave you that impression?” he wondered. which made you laugh.
“i suppose so” you climbed into the passenger seat and he climbed into the drivers. he started the car and drove towards what you were guessing was your fathers house, not that you’d ever been there.
“so tell me about the relationship with your father y/n” he delved straight in.
“wow you waste no time” you scoffed. “well he impregnated my mother, she died during childbirth, he lazily raised me for 6 years before telling me he couldn’t be a father and shipped me off to boarding school in manchester for 12 years and didn’t visit me once” you shrugged. it didn’t bother you anymore. you have accepted that even though he’s your dad, he’s never really been your father. he never tucked you into bed and read you a bedtime story, he never looked after you when you were ill, he never threatened your first date when he came to the door, he never took you for your first alcoholic drink and he will never walk you down the aisle at your wedding. and even though sometimes you just really need your father to tell you everything is going to be ok, you have been alone for 12 years and managed. you can go the rest of your life.
“oh. daddy issues then?” he tried to banter which made you laugh.
“you could say so yes” you replied.
“so if he’s such a shit dad why did you come to the wedding?” he pondered.
“i need closure. after this we will never ever speak again. all form of communication will be cut off.” you said with confidence.
“fair enough” alfie replied. he felt bad for the girl. she had never had a parent in her life. she had been neglected. and he could tell that even though she gave off the impression that she wasn’t bothered by it, he knew she was hurt deep down. so he left it at that.
for the rest of the drive you spoke about all sorts. your job, where you live, his job and where he lives. it was nice. and when your ‘fathers’ house came into view, you were in shock.
“are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered under your breathe. you don’t know why it was the house that made your heart drop, but it was a reminder that you were unwanted. that your father had abandoned you and started a new family that he lived with and looked after in the ridiculously large fucking house. and then came the lump in your throat.
“you ok?” alfie asked. he could tell that she was not.
you took a deep breath. “yes” you nodded and got out of the car. all the guests started showing up at the same time. you waited for alfie to get out of the car before you went in. he linked arms with you and you both walked in.
the first thing you saw was a stair case with large portraits of the family of three. it made you laugh.
“arrogant arseholes” you whispered to alfie which made him laugh. and it was then that you really looked at them. there was a portrait of what you’re guessing is your father, his new wife and his child. that was the first time you saw mrs grace shelby and charles shelby. and as bad as it sounds, you resented them. you resented grace for not encouraging your father to get to know you which sounds stupid and irrational but you couldn’t help it. you knew logically that it’s not your fault that the relationship between you and your father was none existent. it was his. and you resented charles for having the father you needed and wanted. that was supposed to be you. and again it’s irrational because he’s a child and it’s not his fault but you just felt so angry. so you looked away.
a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and took a flute and chugged it. this concerned alfie. he didn’t want you to get drunk and say something to your ‘family’ that you would later regret.
“go easy” he sternly told you.
you glared at him.
from the other side of the room, john and arthur had noticed you.
“who is that linking arms with alfie?” arthur asked john.
“i think it might be y/n” john squinted.
“y/n y/n, as in tommy daughter y/n?” arthur responded.
“yeah, kind of looks like ‘er” john smiled.
“well why the fuck has she got her arm around alfie soloman’s” arthur said angrily.
“i don’t know, he’s like 15 years older than her” john looked confused. before tommy came up behind them. “need you in the kitchen now” tommy demanded.
“did you know y/n is here?” john asked him.
“who?” tommy asked
“your daughter, y/n” said arthur.
“what? where?” tommy looked around before he saw you.
“why the fuck is she linking alfie, and why is she downing champagne? she’s a child” tommy asked.
“that’s what we were wondering. and tommy she’s not a child, she’s like 18 now isn’t she?” john asked.
just as tommy hummed, he made eye contact with you and it was you who looked away as soon as it happened. he truly saw you for the first time in 12 years. you were a woman now. he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were. you looked like the spitting image of your mother with your y/e/c coloured eyes and your soft y/h/c coloured hair. and all of a sudden he had a wave of guilt come over him. he knew he’d been a shitty father towards you, but he never really thought about it until that moment. he felt like shit and so he did what he does best and walked away.
on the other side of the room, you had just made eye contact with your father for the first time in 12 years. you had seen him in the papers so you knew he hadn’t really changed. but making eye contact felt so awkward for you. this was the man whose dna you shared and yet you felt no father-daughter connection with him. you just felt hurt. and so you chugged another flute of champagne. to which alfie’s concern grew even more.
the announcement was made that there was food in the other room as they asked everyone to move there.
you and alfie made your way to the table. you sat next to eachother. you looked around and saw your great aunt pol sat opposite you.
“is that you y/n?” she smiled.
“hello” you suddenly felt shy.
“hello darling” she replied. sat next to her was ada.
“how have you been y/n?” she asked.
“good, i graduated school”
“oh brilliant, do you work?” pol asked
“yes, i have a secretary job working at a factory and i’m a barmaid on the weekends”
“why two jobs?” ada asked
“moneys tight, have to be able to pay the bills on my flat”
“tom doesn’t give you money?” she responded
“why would he?” you asked.
“because you’re his daughter” ada said to which you shrugged. this conversation made pol and ada sad. they realised they truly knew nothing about you and your life. they also knew that tommy hadn’t been the best to you, but again, it didn’t dawn on them how neglectful they had also been.
“you recently turned 18 didn’t you?” pol asked.
“yes”
“did you do anything for your birthday?” she asked.
“not really. just went to work, went to the bakery on the way back home and bought a cupcake and went to bed” you shrugged. that was your routine of 12 years.
“you didn’t celebrate with friends?” they asked
“don’t have any” your shrugged.
“what about school friends?”
“well they all knew eachother because their parents were friends so they would see eachother outside of school” and this made pol and ada feel even worse, you truly were alone.
“well i’m sorry we didn’t come and see you, we were just so busy preparing the wedding” ada smiled.
“it’s ok, i didn’t expect anyone to”
arthur got up from his seat to do the best man speech.
“hello everyone, before you eat i just want to say a few words as best man. my brother tommy met grace in 1919, obviously at that point we didn’t know she was a spy from the parish” at this, you looked up to the top of the table for the first time to see arthur and john for the first time, and then you looked towards your dad. he had an uncomfortable face on him, obviously not expected arthur to bring such a thing up in his speech.
you chugged another flute of champagne. and now, alfie, pol and ada all grew concern for you.
“-anyway, enough about that. these two were destined for eachother. if tom can forgive her for it then it shows how much he loves her. tom doesn’t really love anyone besides grace and charles” and at this, your father looked in your direction to see you chugging another flute of champagne. your 4th in the space of an hour. his eyebrow raised.
“-they are the perfect family. tommy, grace and charles. when grace was pregnant with charles you should have seen tommy. constantly talking about how this is all he’s ever wanted. he was bouncing of the walls” a lump formed in your throat. because he already had a child. you.
ada and pol looked in your direction to see your head facing down and you picking at your nails. a nervous habit you have.
“when charles was born, you couldn’t get the smile off tommys face for weeks. it’s obvious he loves his little family. it didn’t take long for tommy to finally start taking days off work for once to take grace and charles on days out. i remember the first time tommy took a week off to take charles away in the caravan.”
you could feel your heart beat speeding up and tears forming in your eyes. and you sneakily tried to wipe them away. but alfie noticed. and he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.
“i remember the dark circles under his eyes when charles had a cold and wouldn’t settle and tommy had been up with him all night”
your dad looked in your direction to see you wiping a tear off you face and put your head up. and he saw the disappointment in your eyes. and he was disappointed in himself. he knew then that he hadn’t been a father towards you. he can’t remember a single night where he stayed up with you as a child and helped settle you. it was mostly ada and pol who raised you for them 6 years.
“grace. we love you, you came into tommys life and made it better. you gave him something to live for, a child” at this you stood up and walked out of the room. at this it dawned on all the family what had happened. arthur hadn’t realised how big he was fucking up until your shoes clacked against the floor as you speed walked out of the room. “shit” tom whispered. grace looked very confused as to what was happening. alfie stood up and went after you.
he found you sat on a step with your head in your hands. he quietly sat next to you and out his hand on your back and rubbed it. neither of you said anything and you just sat there and cried for the first time in 4 years.
a minute later, tommy came out. alfie glared at him. “go away mate” he whispered gesturing to you crying.
“i want to speak to my daughter privately” tommy demanded.
“haven’t you done enough. why now?” alfie asked him as he got up of the step.
“please” tommy pleaded. he looked desperate.
“don’t say anything stupid” alfie warned as he walked back into the other room. tommy sat next to you. you still had your face in your hands and he could just hear you sniffling. it broke his heart.
“im sorry y/n i know i haven’t been the best father” you scoffed.
“you’ve not been a father at all” you muffled from behind your hands.
“i know” he nodded.
“i haven’t been there for you at all. especially in the last 12 years. but i want to start” he tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off. and pulled your face away from you hands.
“it’s too late. i’ve managed on my own for 12 years i can do it for the rest of my life” you turned to him.
“everyone needs someone y/n, trust me. i didn’t know it until i met grace” he sincerely said.
“maybe. but i’m fine without you in my life.”
“you don’t mean that” tommy shook his head.
“i really do. i have my own flat, a job and food in my cupboards. i don’t need you. i will never forgive you. you abandoned me for years. you neglected me. i spent twelve years in the same institute. christmas’s and half terms included. i was stuck in a building with people who would hit, kick and spit on me whenever i did the slightest thing wrong. i spent my 18th birthday being brutally raped by 3 men on my way home from the fucking bakery. i had to nurse myself back to health whenever i was ill. you weren’t there. you don’t need to be here now.” you shouted.
“y/n i- i don’t even know what to say. i overheard you talking to pol and you never mentioned that that’s what happened” you shook your head.
“its not really dinner talk is it.”
“i swear i will hunt those men down and make them hurt” he had a determined look on his face.
“too late. it’s already happened. they’ve already told me that if i tell anyone they’ll come after me” you shrugged.
“they won’t touch you, i’ll protect you”
“for how long? two weeks before you decide i’m too much of a burden again” you shook your head.
“you remember that?” he asked
“what? you telling me that i’m a burden? you don’t just forget your parent telling you that. sticks with you”
“i am so sorry y/n”
“yeah well i’ll get over it. coming to this wedding was a fucking mistake.” you sighed
“why did you come?” he asked.
“i wanted to see my family one last time before i cut all communication. not that any of yous care”
“come with me y/n” he got up and gestured for me to follow.
“why?” you questioned
“just come with me” he started walking so you followed.
you came to a stop infront of a door. he opened it and gestured for you to come inside.
you entered and quickly realised this was his office. “why are we in here?”
he walked towards his desk and grabbed a picture that was stood on it and held it out to you. it was a picture taken on your graduation. you looked up at him confused
“i had your school send a copy to me. i always asked for updates on how you were doing at school. i have every school report in my draw. i always cared about you. i was just terrible at showing it. and i always thought it was too late to try and be your father so i avoided you. which was wrong. but seeing you today reminded me that i don’t want to have regrets in life. i don’t want to be an old man on my death bed and wondering where my own daughter is. i know i cant expect you to just accepted me as your father. but i would really like you to come over for dinner one day. and meet grace and charles properly?” he asked.
“i don’t know. i don’t feel like they would want me here” you shook your head. with tears still rolling down your face.
“trust me, they do. grace has wanted to meet you for years. she was the one who encouraged me to invite you to the wedding. she really wanted family here. and you are family y/n. i know you feel wronged by all of us, and i understand why. but i want to make it better. please, give me a chance” he pleaded.
“okay.”
#peaky blinder imagine#tommy shelby angst#grace shelby#peaky blinders imagines#shelby imagine#peaky blinders#polly gray#john shelby#arthur shelby#alfie solomons#angst#peaky blinder fanfic#masterlist
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instead of verbally apologizing for fucking up the cake reader spent three hours baking, bd ghost holds her down and eats her out from the back :/
im feral for this. further along in their reconciliation methinks.
(not so)toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader
cw: afab!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, semi public i guess, no gendered terms, mdni
You’re dying. You must be. That ever constant burn in your chest, how your arms shake as they hold you up against your kitchen counter, the way your lungs just can’t seem to hold onto air. It’s all the signs of the last moments of your life, and you’re going to die with Ghost’s mouth pressed to the lips of your pussy through your underwear.
"Wh-what the fuck?" Your foot almost slips in the destroyed birthday cake on the ground, the image of Spider-Man made completely unrecognizable by gravity and Ghost’s propensity to walk silently.
A wrong he means to right by tracing your clit with his tongue, apparently?
“This isn’t going to fix the cake, asshole.” You hiss, covering your mouth when your ex/current/sometimes boyfriend nips at the inner fat of your thigh. You can feel the fabric of your panties stick to your heat, soaked with your slick and his spit, and it’s making you increasingly lightheaded. Beyond the kitchen, Tommy is playing with his friends from the neighbourhood, loudly celebrating his 5th year of existence, the one that quote; “makes me a big kid now!”, with a bouncy castle and a piñata.
And oh, how you wish you could go outside and snap pictures of your precious baby boy laughing and smiling under the sunny sky in your backyard, making memories that’ll last a lifetime. Unfortunately, the father of said baby boy keeps you pinned to the counter top with both hands against your legs while he eats your pussy from the back.
“I’ll get a new one after this.” He murmurs, the vibrations of his voice teasing your clit mercilessly.
“Go now!” You scream-whisper, pushing at his head with your palm, hoping to deter further debauchery.
“Not yet.” He hooks his thumb into the seat of your underwear and pulls it aside before burying his tongue within your folds, fucking into you as hard as he can manage. Your foot slides for real this time and Ghost has to lift one of your legs up so he can get proper access.
Proper access meaning he can brush his tongue over the tight furl of your ass while he slides two fingers into your pussy. The lone leg you're standing on quivers, your knee almost giving out as he expertly drags his fingertips over your g-spot, tonguing where your cunt is stretched around him. It’s not fair, it’s criminal, the way he hums when you shudder a quick, unsuspecting orgasm on his digits, letting him fuck into you deep, while you rock your hips to ride out the feeling. You hang your head low, breathing deep and slow before you let your suspended foot hit the floor again, shifting so he can’t stay inside you.
You arrange your clothes the best you can, shoving at his shoulder as he stays kneeling on the floor.
“Move big-head. Go get a cake, now.” He rises, expression neutral but eyes sparkling like he’d just been fucking knighted.
He hightails it out of your home, but not before peeking his head out of the back door to let your son know he’d be back shortly. You can hear your son’s happy and care-free response when you stoop down to begin wiping smears of icing and sponge off the ground, dropping heavily laden paper towels into the trash. Before he can slip out the front door you shout at Ghost’s back; “Make sure it’s a Spider-Man cake or I will kill you!”
earlier: tommy gets skull facepaint to match his dad :)
#baby daddy ghost#ghost x black reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost smut#ghost mw2#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost x black!reader#ghost x you#simon riley x you#cod x reader#cod mw2 smut#cod x you#ghost x gn reader#ghost cod#kechiwrites#requests#baby blue fic
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Happy Birthday
Author's Note: Today's my birthday!! So of course I had to write some birthday fluff <3
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader
Summary: Joel and Ellie wanna make your birthday special!
Warnings: some kissing, a lotta fluff!
...
You wake up to the feeling of someone jumping on your bed.
“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! It’s your birrthhhdayyyyy” Ellie says in a sing song voice
“Wha- how do you know when my birthday is?” You asked the young girl sitting next to you
She looks back over her shoulder and you follow where she’s looking to see Joel standing at the door.
“Uh you mentioned it once before and I let it slip to Ellie without thinking, sorry” he spoke quietly
“Don’t apologize, this is very sweet. I just don’t remember mentioning my birthday” you said, tryin to remember when you would’ve said that
“You definitely told me… anyways Ellie set up a whole thing for you… if you think it’s stupid we don’t have to do any of it-“ Joel started
“Hey you planned most of it!” Ellie interjected
Joel cheeks started to redden as you and Ellie giggled at the man's state.
"Well what're we waiting for, come downstairs!!" Ellie exclaimed, tugging your arm to get you out of bed.
You three headed downstairs and before you could enter the kitchen you heard Ellie speak.
"Wait don't go in there yet! Joel, do it!" Ellie stated
You looked at them confused as you heard Joel sigh and apologize under his breath. He slowly lifted his hands to your eyes from behind you.
"Ok you can walk into the kitchen, but you have to stay blindfolded until we say!" Ellie said
You and Joel shuffled into the kitchen, his arms around you with his hands covering your eyes.
"OK one...two...three!" the young girl counted down as Joel removed his hands from your eyes
Once your eyes adjusted, you saw ingredients on the counter. Flour, sugar, eggs, even butter. You were slightly confused and impressed they had all of these things.
"So we were going to make you a cake but then I remembered you said you used to love baking. I figured we could all bake the cake together today" Joel spoke hesitantly, keeping his eyes on the floor
You felt tears starting to form and you saw Joel's eyes widen.
"(Y/N) I am so sorry, I just thought-" Joel started
You cut him off with a hug. After a little bit, you pulled Ellie into the hug as well. You three stood in the kitchen hugging.
"This is the sweetest thing ever. I love it" You told them
"It was all my idea" Joel spoke with a little laugh as Ellie smacked his arm.
You three started baking and once the cake was done you all sat down and enjoyed something you never thought you would get to enjoy again. They even sang happy birthday to you, which did make you cry again.
After a while you spoke, "Hey Ellie, can you bring a few pieces to Tommy and Maria?"
"Sure!" She said and started to head out. Before she left the room she gave Joel a look, hoping he would take the hint to the tell you how he feels.
"Thank y-" "How was-" You and Joel spoke at the same time.
"Sorry you go first" the man spoke
"Thank you, for this and for everything. I never thought I would feel this much love and happiness again if I'm being honest" you told him
"To tell you the truth, you never told me when your birthday was. I found one of the pictures you carry around. You were celebrating your birthday in it and it had the date on it. I took a lucky guess that it was today. I just wanted to do something to show you how much you mean to us...to me" He admitted
"Well you haven't given me my birthday present yet, I was thinking a kiss would be the perfect gift" you said with as much confidence as you had
Joel brought both of his hands up to your face. He rubbed one of his thumbs on your lip as he slowly leaned in. His lips softly met yours. Once you pulled away, you both stayed put staring into each others eyes. He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, relishing in the moment.
"Happy birthday" He whispered to you
After a little bit he softly kissed your nose and you giggled. You both jumped apart when you heard clapping.
Ellie, Tommy, and Maria were all there cheering you two on.
"Hey, (Y/N's) birthdays isn't over yet. Lets party!" Ellie said
You all laughed at her excitement. You spent the night in the living room, tucked into Joel's side, sharing stories and laughing with your family.
And after everyone went home and Ellie was asleep, Joel gave you the best birthday present ever.
#joel miller fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel miller#the last of us imagine#the last of us#pedro pascal#joel tlou#joel and ellie#ellie tlou#tlou hbo#joel the last of us#joel miller x y/n#joel miller oneshots#joel miller one shot
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ch iv. tacit
joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)
chapter four of chaser
warnings: 18+ minors please dni. love triangle forming formed. lots of angst, miscommunications. very brief mentions of sexual situations. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake).
summary: tommy miller 'accidentally' sets joel up on a blind date on your night out. you're definitely not happy about it, and neither is joel.
a/n: tried something kinda new with this chapter. Been feeling like my writing as a whole lowkey gives bare bones considering all my edits and things i cut out so i tried to keep most of my ideas, just refined them more. ~ THIS SYMBOL REPRESENTS POV CHANGE. Really trying to rein in the idea that they’re fucking terrible at communicating and they interpret situations differently (but differently in such a similar way). If yall liked this please lmk. and dont worry things will get better in the next chapter (i already have half of it written).
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
“I did good, didn’t I?”
What the fuck.
“What?” you echo your thoughts, looking over at Tommy. He smiles at the pair.
“She’s my next door neighbor. I fixed up her mailbox and got to talkin’ — said I thought she would get along with Joel.”
“You invited her?” you ask, your voice small.
“Yeah,” Tommy laughs and rubs your shoulder. “‘S what I just said, baby.”
“Are you serious?” you almost want to hit Joel upside the head.
He just nods, raising his beer to you and chugging down a good portion of it.
“God. You’re kidding, right?” You turn back to Tommy.
“Sorry, baby. Dead serious.”
“Jesus,” you shake your head, tipping back the remainder of your second drink.
Tommy’s birthday. On Sunday. As in like, two days from now, and you had no clue, not until this very moment, the two brothers staring back at you like they don’t see the issue with this.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“‘M tellin’ you now?” Tommy laughs. You shove him playfully.
“Well, we have to throw you a party,” you announce, shaking your head at the thought that maybe, if Joel didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t have known about Tommy’s birthday at all.
“No, I don’t think —”
“No excuses,” you say, shrugging your shoulders and giving him a shy smile. “Joel and I will take care of it. Right?” you look over at him, but he stares back with wide eyes.
He stutters out words, trying to give an excuse, but doesn’t get very far.
“Joel and I will throw you a party,” you say, giving Joel a teasing look. “You gotta up my pay, Miller.”
“In your dreams, I pay you plenty. And Sarah’s an angel — I’m basically paying you to sit around and hang out.”
“‘S hard work,” you chuckle, the boys laugh. “Can we use your backyard, Joel?”
“Why.”
“You have a pool…and a barbecue…and a lawn.”
“Jesus. ‘S like y’all don’t own houses.”
“Great! Party at Joel’s,” you smile at him, teasing almost — flirting. But you reel it in at Tommy’s voice.
They start talking about something regarding the current state of Joel’s backyard and you get lost in the conversation, itching to approach the bar and get another drink.
Your phone buzzes, it’s Olivia calling. You excuse yourself and make a quick break outside.
“Hello?”
Hey babe, so how’s it going? Am I interrupting anything??
You roll your eyes.
“Liv, c’mon. Tommy is here with us,” you say into the phone, peering back at the brothers perched on a high table through the window.
Ugh. Fucking buzzkill. So you’re not gonna make a move tonight?
“Jesus. No — no.”
Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.
“If I get some alone time with him then maybe we’ll — talk about it. I guess…” you look back to them again. Joel’s eyes catch yours and you turn around quickly.
“I dunno though. Tommy’s being clingy.”
He’s always clingy. Sneak Joel into the bathroom, maybe y'all can go for round two.
“Liv!” you chastise, your cheeks heat at the thought.
Keep me posted. And have fun, girl.
“I will, thanks. Love you, bye.”
Love you, bye.
You hang up, rubbing your hands on your upper arms to shield yourself from the cold. You need another drink desperately.
You walk back in. The roaring crowd meets your ears immediately. Dim string lights and a couple shots in and things had been going — good.
Relatively good. The best you could hope for out of your Friday night out with the boys.
Joel isn’t being an ass and Tommy is relatively chill so things have been good. It’s fun being out with them. Especially when Tommy might be too distracted by the crowd to see you staring at Joel — the way his biceps stretch the cotton of his t-shirt. The way his lips curl around his glass. The glint in his eyes when he laughs. And you know for certain, Tommy doesn’t notice Joel’s hand resting on your thigh for a couple, fleeting seconds every so often.
You approach the bar and ask for another drink. You’re not sure where you stand with Joel, you two haven’t been afforded much alone time since the phone call. But things might finally feel good. Especially between the brothers.
Maybe it had been way too good — way too calm — because something always had to fuck everything up — and this was that moment.
A long legged blonde walks through the double doors like a scene out of a movie. Somewhere deep down in the teenage part of your psyche, you want to say her clothes are ill-fitting, her lipstick — a garish shade of mauve, her hair — coarse and utterly damaged. But it’s not. She’s none of those things.
She's perfect.
It's been two days since the incident on the phone. Joel and Tommy have been sort of MIA with a big part of their project — coming back home late, when Sarah’s already asleep. You got your car fixed (all on your own) so you leave them with some leftovers on the table as soon as they get back.
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
Joel had said when you pointed out the food on the table last night. You recall everyone’s eyes widening, the pet name slipping from his lips with ease. It sounded like butter to your ears — fighting the urge to smile a mile wide and kiss him like you’ve been begging to do since the day you met. But you knew Tommy noticed, you all noticed. Joel brushed it off with a cough, saying something about how it had been a particularly rough day.
Tommy didn’t say much about it. But he wasn’t acting strange which was good. Even tonight, he’s still acting himself — it’s a bit of a relief.
Even now, when surprisingly, Tommy stands and greets the woman, pulling her into a hug. Joel stands too, though he looks a bit confused.
You stare at them from the bar, Tommy says something to Joel, obviously introducing the blonde to him. Joel’s face contorts into recognition at the name, maybe Tommy has mentioned her before.
You don’t even notice the bartender placing your drink down in front of you, abandoning it and beelining towards them. The drink sweats on the bartop, alone. Forgotten.
“Why don’t you go with Joel?” Tommy says, ushering her towards Joel’s side. “Grab her a drink?”
You look up at Joel in passing, the blonde on his other side, you try to keep your face normal, but a look slithers onto your brow. He knows exactly what you’re trying to say.
What the fuck?
His eyes scrunch for a half second, saying, I don’t know, either and stalks away with the blonde. You watch them leave, but Tommy’s voice snaps you out of your trance, a heavy arm braces itself over your shoulder as you both watch them approach the bar.
“I did good, didn’t I?”
What the fuck.
“What?” you echo your thoughts, looking over at Tommy. He smiles at the pair.
“She’s my next door neighbor. I fixed up her mailbox and got to talkin’ — said I thought she would get along with Joel.”
“You invited her?” you ask, your voice small.
“Yeah,” Tommy laughs and rubs your shoulder. “‘S what I just said, baby.”
Joel looks — you don’t really know what he looks like. He doesn’t look completely uninterested, but you can spot the glint in his eye a million miles away. And when he lacks it too, like right now.
But maybe you like to imagine what his eyes look like — just for you. How you can feel his glances from across a room, how his eyes meet yours through a crowded bar and never let go. Like a string attaches your irises and pulls you, locked together, forever.
It doesn’t seem like he’s looking at her like that but you’re beginning to realize you know nothing of what these boys might do.
It’s not like Joel owes you anything in this moment — and you’re not asking him. You know what he has to do to save both of your asses from Tommy’s precise, unwavering eyes, and he’s doing it. He’s strong — but you’re not sure if you’ve got that kind of fight in you. To let him go, with wandering eyes and wandering, delicate fingers braced all over his body. Maybe this is how he feels — no — now you’re certain your feelings match Joel’s in those fleeting moments when he catches you with Tommy.
It leaves you feeling sick. Guilty? Sure. Sad? Oh, definitely.
Jealous? Yeah. That one.
Even if it might be unrightfully so. But you keep it down the best you can.
“You think they look good together?” Tommy says from the table now. You don’t remember him moving.
“Yeah,” you reply in a soft voice.
He clears his throat when you stare at them for too long.
“Yeah,” you say again, louder, when you turn to him. He smiles back.
“‘S what I thought, too.” he throws some trail mix into his mouth. “Think she might be good for him.”
“Good for him,” you echo, absentmindedly. The only thing you can think about — and look at, for that matter — is the way her manicured fingers brush over his arm, and how he doesn’t push them away.
Good for him.
She seems good for him. Maybe all he needs is a bobbing blonde bimbo in his life. Something to brighten up his day. You thought you were good for him. Thought you were good for his life. Thought you were good for everyone.
But when he laughs a bit — you can’t help but wonder: what do you think you know anymore?
“You alright?”
You snap your head to Tommy again.
You feel like crying but you bite back the desperate tears.
“Yeah,” you say, the feeling in your throat rising with your reply, and even more so with the next. “‘M fine.”
You watch the bartender set a drink down in front of the unnamed woman and she accepts it graciously. The pair begins to walk back, she’s close to Joel’s side. You bite your tongue, whipping out your phone instead to sneak Olivia a sad, solemn text.
You look down, the tears pooling to the front of your eye, momentarily blurring your vision like someone just released a flash bomb in the bar — maybe an ambush — this certainly feels like one.
You can’t really read the legibility of your writing, knowing it's littered with typos, your thumbs moving faster than your mind — saying something about a woman and Joel and almost regrettably because of how in the moment you are right now — how fucking stupid Tommy Miller is — even though you know this is far from his fault.
The pair stands before you. The woman smiles down at you — your body failing to stand until Tommy puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, ushering you up to your feet.
Why is everything coming out of Tommy’s mouth muffled to your ears?
Maybe Joel can see the unshed tears in your eyes, but he stops the introduction on its head — the pity clear in his voice. That you can hear. The honey-rich, southern — homey — sound of his drawl punching through the sound barrier of stupid teenage hurt feelings and childish jealousy wrapped around you like a blanket—
“You alright, sweetheart?”
There it is again. That fucking pet name that holds you in a vice grip, sends shooting electricity down your spine, makes you want to scream out to the entire bar — please — please. Just stop this bullshit, end it. Press rewind to five minutes ago when things seemed to be going good and make this — fucking please — make this stop.
But you don’t say that. The tears recede at his voice, you smile up at him like a scene rehearsed and then back to the blonde. She stares at you, her brow a bit cocked and at his words — you know this is far from the acting normal you and Joel unspokenly try to adhere to. Even in the worst circumstances — like this one.
“Yeah,” you brush him off quickly, he moves to speak but you cut him off, a surprisingly cool tone braced on your lips.
“Nice to meet you,” you smile, taking her hand, telling her your name. “Tommy said you’re his neighbor?”
“Yeah that’s right,” she laughs. “Quite the handyman.”
“I try my best,” Tommy jests from beside you. She laughs.
“Caroline,” she finishes with, dropping your hand. You smile back.
She’s pretty, and nice, and fucking funny and you want to be so fucking mean to her because she’s got her hands all over Joel and she’s insanely gorgeous but you know better. You like to think you're far from your teenage years — even if you feel like you’re drowning in your numbers.
You can see her better in this light.
A lump in your throat forms because what’s even worse than her being pretty is that she looks older.
More like Tommy — more like Joel.
More age appropriate.
Less like you.
“So what do you do?” Caroline says as you all sit.
“Oh. I’m Joel’s nanny—” you stifle an awkward laugh. You’ve never said that out loud.
“Joel needs a nanny?” she bites back with a witty smirk on her face. Everyone laughs.
“I’m Sarah’s babysitter, just got my bachelors in May though,” you laugh back. She nods.
“What did you study?”
“English.”
“Ah. English. Remember those days.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a journalist. Work for some company no one cares about, blah blah blah. You get it,” she says, sipping on her drink.
Great. Journalist.
“Do you like it?” Tommy asks from beside you. You get lost in her words, not really hearing anything besides how she's better and farther along in a similar field as you.
You mumble something to Tommy about how you need another drink, hopping to the bar when everyone settles into the conversation.
Like clockwork, you can feel Joel’s eyes on you, tracking you across the bar and when you slip further into the crowd.
You push through to get to the bathroom but when you arrive, you freeze.
How could you be so stupid?
You’re surprised the door to that bathroom doesn’t show your fingerprints and scratch marks from the other side. You remember it being nicer than it currently stands before you. A small smile finds its way to your lips at the thought. Everything seems to fade when you think about that night — when you think about how Joel makes you feel.
But you can’t go back in. That would be setting yourself up for the ultimate failure. Disqualifying you from the race because of a faulty start.
You push into the next bathroom, some ways down the small hallway.
The door shuts behind you, a rumbling tune plays through the walls of the bathroom, shaking the mirror and ruining the look you try to get at yourself. You can almost see the fatal flaw written on your face through the rippling glass: the thought that this would ever work out between you and Joel.
~
The woman beside Joel keeps touching him.
It’s not that it bothers him, particularly. It’s just that he can feel her wanting need pulse off her body like a fire alarm. The thought that he might look her way now is comical. Especially when you slip towards the bathroom. The same fucking bathroom all those weeks ago. Like it’s been sitting here waiting for the two of you to get inside and let hell break loose.
But it stares at Joel and bites back with teeth and fangs when you slip inside. Normally a smirk or even a wide smile would be wedged on his face from the implication. Follow me inside, tell me what you’re thinking with your actions, not words. Pin me up against the wall, let me say your name. Let me tell you I’m yours. But everything about right now screams the opposite of That Night.
It’s different this time. Instead, he can feel the sadness at your greeting and the look in your eye that followed.
Tommy is such a fucking idiot.
Joel’s always known there was a temper on Tommy since they were young. And there has always been that godforsaken sibling rivalry because Tommy turned out to be a good man. And as Joel reasons with himself — maybe Tommy is a better man than he is because all Joel wants to do is follow you into the bathroom, see if you’re alright, ask you to forget about this nonsense and just stay with him. Don’t let this push you to Tommy. Don’t let this ruin everything that’s been building.
Maybe that makes him a bad man for wanting. But maybe it also makes him a good man for not following through.
He can’t even drink anymore. The light beers are clearing from his head, but honestly, he was dead sober at the sight of you with unshed tears in your eyes.
But when you emerge from the bathroom like nothing is wrong, Joel falters. He isn’t sure what to do when you request a drink from the bar — and he isn’t sure what to do when it turns out to be a shot, you down it in one gulp and don’t ask for a chaser.
Maybe you want it to hurt.
It’s the first indication that something — anything — is wrong. And Joel would wager a million on what that something is.
Joel thought it had been clear the night of the dinner at his house. He thought his silent words snuck into Tommy’s brain enough to send a clear signal. Back off, dude.
But apparently it didn’t. Because this woman is sitting next to him, and her hand rests on his knee now. And she keeps snaking her fingers through to rest on his bicep. And he’s just about had enough.
“You should come. Right, Joel?”
“Huh,” he pushes out, looking back to his brother.
“To my party?”
It’s almost like Tommy is pleading with him. And he’s not sure what to say. Of course he doesn’t want her to come. But it’s Tommy’s party and the kick under the table from Tommy’s boot forces the words out of his mouth even though he wants to say the opposite.
“Yeah, sure.”
Tommy gives him a look. Joel knows this woman — Caroline — is nice. Hell, she might’ve even caught his eye if he wasn’t worshiping the ground you walk on. Maybe Tommy knew that too, and that’s why he invited her. She seems nice, and funny, but Joel can’t get you off his mind. The thought of you — like a bee who won’t quit buzzing around a flower.
“Need some water. Y’all want anythin’?”
They shake their heads and give their thanks but Joel wasn’t really paying much attention to them anyways. He can only look around the bar and see an apparent lack of your figure — anywhere.
He stands and searches for you, only to see your figure in a flash, walking towards the entrance. He catches your arm and you turn to him, a feigned, sad smile appears on your face.
Jesus.
You can’t even look him in the eyes — hold the unbreaking eye contact he made a mental note of when you two first met.
“What a’you doin’?” Joel asks, trying to keep his voice from wavering.
“Need some air,” you say.
Joel follows you wordlessly. He doesn’t care if his date or his brother sees him walk you out. It’s nothing to hide from. You guys are — friends.
The cool air hits his skin. He sees that you’re cold, but doesn’t want to hold you against him like he desperately needs to — at the implication that maybe you’d turn him down. Or worse, push him away.
“So…a party,” Joel starts with, grimacing internally at his chosen words.
“Yeah — if you don’t wanna help, you don’t have to. I was just joking in ther—”
Joel cuts you off. It hurts a bit — the thought that you think he wouldn’t want to help you.
“I do — wanna help.”
You smile shyly.
“Pick me up tomorrow? We’ll go shopping.”
“Be there at four, Sarah's goin’ to a friend’s for dinner and a sleepover.”
“She’s got more social battery than me,” you chuckle, looking back into the bar.
“You ‘n me combined — maybe she got it from Tommy.”
“Maybe,” you echo.
Suddenly, the air feels less playful.
“I didn’t know,” Joel starts with because he doesn’t know what else to say. His words make you laugh a bit. He doesn’t know what to do anymore. All he wants is you.
“I know —” another laugh, but he knows you think none of this is funny. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”
Is it just him or is the glint in your eyes gone?
“No, I…Jesus. Tommy just — fuckin’ — I don’t know her, I — know of her. But I didn’t tell him I wanted to meet her.”
“Joel,” you say, your voice breaking a bit. “It’s okay.”
But it’s not okay. He can see that much displayed on your face.
“She seems nice,” you note. His brows furrow because he can tell you’re being genuine. Why does it seem like you want him to admit it too?
“C’mon,” he says, a harsh chuckle in the form of a crisp breath escapes his mouth, pleading with you—
Stop this.
~
“What do you want me to say?” you whisper, breathless. He stares back at you like he doesn’t know what could possibly be running through your head. You need him to say his truth now. Or honestly? You’re not sure it’ll ever come out and you’ll be left behind forever.
“Anythin’ but that,” he breathes, the air puffs cold around your face.
You want to speak but nothing comes out. You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold biting through your thin top. He looks unmoving and warm. But he stands with his hands shoved in his pockets.
Why isn’t he holding you?
“Well she does,” his brows cock at your words. “Seem nice.”
“I don’t like her. I —”
I like you. I want you. I need you.
It’s on the tip of his tongue. Maybe he’s about to confess and the dam holding all your feelings from the last month will break through. But he’s searching for the words — and that’s when you know. Because he shouldn’t be searching for anything. Not when it comes so easy to you. Not when what he makes you feel is threatening to spill from your lips at every chance you get. He shouldn’t be searching for the right things to say when you can think of a million possibilities.
He steps forward, grabbing your hand in his. His fingers play with yours as you wait with bated breath. Waiting for the —
Be with me, stay with me. Forget about them. Forget about everything. I just need you.
You hold out for one last moment. Maybe he can’t articulate his feelings as well as they ring true in his mind.
You step back a bit, moving to turn, moving to open your body as a silent invitation for him to follow you. Your fingers pull on his a bit towards your direction, pulling him, propelling him towards what you want him to say. But he doesn’t say those words. Instead—
“Where are you goin’?”
Your hand holding his fingers pulls slightly again. A life raft. A beacon of hope. The last twinge that you have to offer him so he can finally break down his walls and be with you.
Because that’s all you want. You just want him.
“Home.”
You say it. It might be the first time since Caroline walked through the doors that he’s looked into your eyes. You’re pleading with him. With every ounce in your body. Just fucking say it.
It's a silent invitation, you ask him with your eyes. And with the fingers pulling at his.
Come with me. To my house, to my bed. Stay with me. Come with me. Leave them behind, and stay the night, stay till the next night too. Forget about the blonde laughing at Tommy’s jokes. Hell, forget about Tommy. Just fucking ditch this hell hole and take me home. And come with me and don’t ever leave.
Please.
But it seems like you both don’t talk as well with your eyes as you thought. And it seems like you don’t know this man in front of you at all.
Because he steps back a bit, nodding, dropping your reaching fingers, and says those fatal words that solidify your fatal flaw.
“I’ll get Tommy to drive you home.”
~
Joel arrives at Caroline’s house. She somehow convinced him to drop her off at home. She keeps insisting Joel come in for a night cap. But he’s too fucking sad and pissed to even consider speaking to her for another two minutes longer.
His head pounds. But not from the alcohol, from the quiet heartbreak settling in his chest at the memory of your words. At everything that had happened that night. It was meant to be a fun evening. But when he left you outside the bar, and ran to fetch Tommy, he knew this would go down in one of his most regrettable moments. And his most sad, too.
Home.
The word rings in Joel’s ears. But you looked so fucking sad and you were already moving away from him. He had failed to say what he really meant to say — I want you. I just need you.
Maybe that truly was the end and maybe he failed to say what he thought and it turned you off. Made him unwanted in your eyes.
Solidified the fact that he might never be a good man.
Not like Tommy.
But you were turning away — your fingers hanging onto his because he was the one who grabbed your hand first, and pulled you towards him with his fingers, his eyes, with his body — desperately.
You kept pulling away — pulled away with sad eyes and he desperately wanted you to stay but he couldn’t make you do anything. Not when you look like that and you sound equally sad and broken.
So he thought of what you deserve. Maybe even what you wanted at that moment.
He finally dropped your hands, the warm spots your fingers held — were trapped under, brushed against the cold and Joel shivered.
“I’ll get Tommy to drive you home.”
He said it, but didn’t want to act on his words. He wanted to be the one to drive you home and to slip into your house, then maybe into your bed after that.
But he wasn’t — you didn't want him to.
He was sitting in the truck outside Caroline’s house as she pulls all her best tricks to get him to come inside.
But he brushes them all off, and drives back in silence until he slumps in bed.
~
“Fuckin’ — sit up, Jesus,” Tommy says, pulling your body upright in the passenger seat of the truck.
You grumble with him.
“‘M fine laying down. Stop micromanaging me.”
You’re drunk.
The shot you took before talking to Joel outside the bar was beginning to take root. And all the other shots after that, when Tommy ushered you in to grab one last drink, and you just happened to down three more before leaving.
“‘M not — mircomana— you’re a fuckin’ piece of work.”
You smile lazily at him.
“Like you aren’t?”
He laughs back.
There's a tense silence after Joel’s name pops up on Tommy’s phone that sits comfortably on the center dash.
Tommy speaks first.
“What’d you and Joel talk about?”
“Oh, nothing,” you say, his head twitching a bit at your too-broad, overarching answer. “Your party,” you say when you think he might pry too much.
“Joel isn’t gonna help you with that, you know.”
His words make you freeze. Joel actually was going to help — or was supposed to before the shit show outside the bar.
“We’ll see. Can do it on my own too, though.”
“Thanks again for offering, I — I know it’s dumb.”
“‘S not dumb. ‘N I wanted to do it,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.
“Well thanks anyways.”
You hum in response, looking out the window into darkness.
“What’d you think of Joel’s date?”
Your eyes widen and suddenly, you don’t feel as drunk, sitting up a bit at his question.
“That’s what it was? A date?” you say with a nervous chuckle.
“I guess,” he laughs. “Don’t know what else to call it.”
“She’s nice,” you say, echoing your words to Joel. Somewhere in the back of your mind you note how that sends a pang to your chest.
“I don’t know if he was interested,” Tommy notes.
That doesn’t really give you as much relief as you would’ve hoped for. You’re not hurt because of Caroline. You’re hurt because of everything that happened after. When you tried to get him to take you home, and he pulled away.
Tommy continues when you don’t respond.
“Took her home though.”
Now that sends a shooting throb to your heart.
Like it’s saying Of course he did. Even though that doesn’t seem very much like Joel at all.
“Really?”
“Yup. ‘N I think she’s comin’ to the party. Seemed excited ‘bout it.”
“Oh,” you reply dumbly. You’re sure that’s not helping your case when trying to be indifferent about Joel’s dating life.
Tommy pulls up to your driveway.
Tense silence follows after he puts the truck in park.
“Is that — like — an issue?”
Your heart starts beating a little bit faster.
“No, why would it be?”
“Just wonderin’,” he says with a sigh.
“Is it an issue for you?”
“No. Think she’s good for him.”
There it is again.
Good for him.
Are you not good for him?
You brush it off quickly, moving to unlatch your seatbelt.
“Thanks for the ride,” you say, but Tommy’s hand reaches out and stops your movements. You tentatively look up, scared of what might be looking back. He looks a bit pained, or maybe scared — though his hardened brow doesn’t give much emotion.
“I had fun tonight — you looked — look good,” he says, pulling you a little closer, he’s starting to dip his head ever so slightly. If you weren’t paying him so much attention you might not have even noticed his movements.
You don’t pull away.
That would be the end of everything with your friendship. But you would be lying if you said you weren’t terrified — apparently the look is clearly etched on your face.
He laughs a bit suddenly, pulling away.
“Jesus.”
“What – what’s wrong?”
“Nothin’. I —” he pauses for a long time.
You’re scared of what he might say.
“Can I…can I take you out? Like — just the two of us?”
You stare at him with wide eyes. You force yourself to breathe, a couple short puffs of air slip past your lips.
“Oh, I — like you want to go out for food?”
“Food,” he huffs out a short breath mixed with a chuckle. It makes your breath hitch, the uncertainty and knowing he’s acting so strange right now.
“No, like — like a date. I guess.”
_
chapter v. just you
taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!
@sofiparallel @akah565 @going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @defnotashifter @missgurrl @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop
@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @anoverwhelmingdin @violinchick @rhoorl @yoongjennie88 @rainbowcosmicchaos @akah565 @pedropascalissofine @purplemechanics @suzmagine @untamedheart81 @hellaradd @josephine1837 @noisynightmarepoetry @lawh0re
@joelsversion @hellaradd @vanillen @brujitafantomatico @cartoon-garbage04 @jpbplvr @whattownheadshake @beccerjune @pedrotonin @sen-mirjahaal @awesomebunnyqueen @bluetattoos @sunnysaphira @vickywallace @bbyanarchist @gossipgirl-03 @casa-boiardi
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#the last of us hbo#joel miller#joel miller self insert#the last of us#joel fic#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fic#joel the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal as joel miller#joel miller smut#smut#joel x f!reader#joel x female reader#joel x you#tlou fanfiction#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#dom!joel#dom!joel miller#tommy miller#chaser
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Ahem- hey- uh- I-
…NOW I FEEL LIKE TOMMY TUBBO WILBUR AND RANBOO IN PART TWO- HELP FFJYTFJHTYTFTH
SOOOOO- HI THERE ITS ME ✨🌌🌙 ANNON, THE DISAPPEARING ANNON- LOOK- I-
OKAY SO EXPLANATION TIME, I HONESTLY THOUGHT MY CRAPPY REQUEST WOULD BE IGNORED- I ALSO HAVE NOT BEEN ON TUMBLR SINCE LIKE A WEEK AFTER I SENT IT- I COME BACK TO READ SOME STUFF FROM OUR GOOD OLD LORD AND SAVIOR MODEL, TO SEE; ONE IT WAS RECENTLY YA BIRTHDAY! (Happy late birthday-) AND TWO.. MY REQUEST WAS TURNED INTO A MASTER PEICE OF AGES WITH TWO WHOLE PARTS, I APPARENTLY HELPED GET YOU OUT OF A WRITING SLUM- AND PEOPLE ACTUALLY REALLY LIKED MY CRUMMY IDEA (Thanks to your POGGERS writing)
so basically- THANK YOU ‘O GREAT MODEL FOR HEARING MY PLEA AND DELIVERING GREATNESS!!!
also I am gonna try and be more active on tumblr now so like- yey.
ALSO ALSO, I may sometimes send in requests of my silly little ideas cuz like chaos cut fed my soul and I am now the ✨ H a p p e h ✨
ALSO ALSO ALSO, part three of chaos cut???, we are at home and get messages asking like “Yo we good now? You forgive us for being assholes??” and we say smth like “you gonna respond to my messages? Then sure” some kind of tweet is made could be as vague as “shes gonna be in videos again yayyy” or could be the group admitting to what happened?? *eyes* maybe responses from other friends?? Ofc that is a suggestion for if you decide to further continue.
wether you decide to continue it or not or you decide to use this or not, thank you so much, chaos cut was all I wanted it to be and more.
I’M BACK BABYYY!!
-All the love, ✨🌌🌙 Annon.
You live!! And I’d love to receive more of your amazing little ideas :) honestly, I’d write 500 parts of Cut Chaos
I probably formatted this weird because of the messages part and the Twitter part but Oh Well.
Pairing(s): cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy x Fem!Reader (Platonic)
Cut Chaos Part 3
The day you spent with Ranboo, Tubbo, Wilbur, and Tommy after the store might’ve been the best day you’ve ever had. You’re finally able to breathe again, to laugh again. Smiling had started drifting away from you, but suddenly you were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
You almost don’t go home. It’s tempting to stay with Ranboo when he offers up one of their many spare bedrooms (and you do mean many), but you decline. Heading back home, closing the door to your bedroom is easier than it’s ever been. Just living is easier than it used to be.
Collapsing onto your bed, it only takes you a second before you start grinning like an idiot to yourself. Things are back to normal, back to how they should be. Sure, you could still be mad at them for what happened, but you were tired of not being around them. Tired of people being pissed off.
It takes you a full three minutes before you roll onto your side and unlock your phone with Face ID. There’s a plethora of notifications waiting for you, from a group chat that you thought was a ghost town. It makes you grin all over again.
Wilbur
so we’re all good now?
Tommy
yeah, u forgive us for being assholes??
Tubbo
Becuase we r super sorry
You
You guys gonna respond to my messages from now on?
Ranboo
I promise on Tommy’s life
You
Then yeah
Tommy
HEY
Laughing to yourself, you swipe out of messages to open Twitter and scroll on it. You aren’t afraid to open it, not like you used to be. Random tweets would remind you of what you lost, of the various people confused why you lost it, but now you’re just giddy. Overjoyed.
Part of you wanted to announce the plans you made with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo. Scream from the (metaphorical) rooftops of Twitter that you were back. The chaos squad was back.
But, as it turns out, Tommy beat you to it. Of course he did, he can’t keep his mouth shut for the life of him. In a loving way, of course.
tommyinnit ﹫Tommyaltinnit
guess who is BACK in the NEW VLOG
|_ You ﹫Yourusername
me BITCHES
|_ Nia ﹫randomfanpersondontworry
OMG OMG OMG NO WAY !!! CHAOS SQUAD ISNT DEAD FUCK ALL OF YOU IM WINNING TODAY
You grin, scrolling through the replies to Tommy’s tweet—including Tubbo and Ranboo’s—then realize the group name is trending. With wide eyes, you switch what you’re scrolling through to read the new tweets.
Annon ﹫StarStarMoon
Anyone know what happened between the chaos squad??? Like they all drop her and now she’s back?? Something definitely happened…
|_ Real Person ﹫RealpersonIcreated
THIS! Why did nobody talk about it. I wanna know fr fr
|_ Max ﹫Myfriendsnameisbeingused
I think they all dropped her over those rumors ages ago. Makes sense to me tbh
|_ Charlie ﹫Myotherfriendsnameisbeingused
Totally on her side if something did happen honestly lmao
Oh, fuck. You hesitate, not sure what to do, then ignore the tweet and its replies. Things were good, you didn’t need to dwell on when they were bad. Let people be people and let them speculate all they want.
This was your life and your happiness. Returned, at last.
#dsmp#mcyt#mcyt imagine#tommyinnit x reader#tommyinnit x you#tommyinnit#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur soot#wilbur soot x you#ranboo x reader#wilbur x reader#ranboo#ranboo mcyt#ranboo imagine#ranboolive#tubbo x reader#tubbo
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Sweetness - A Joel Miller Story
Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc
Joel masterlist
Joel has done his best to forget about his birthday, and for good reason. Ellie, however, has other plans in mind. When she recruits their pretty neighbor in Jackson to put together a surprise for him, Joel is thrown for a real loop.
warnings | 18+ angst, that's pretty much it, this is just real fluffy
Joel does his best not to think about his birthday, for a plethora of reasons. September twenty-sixth, the day that everything came crumbling down all those years ago. The day he lost his babygirl.
All those years on the road, and then in the Boston QZ, it had been easy to keep it to himself, usually spending that wretched day drinking until he couldn’t think straight. Every year, the only gift he got was that of pure, blissful oblivion, and a pounding headache the next morning.
Since settling in Jackson, it’s been harder to keep this information under wraps. Ellie somehow managed to needle out of Tommy when his birthday was, and had declared that Joel needed to pick a new birthday after realizing how depressing that date truly is. When Joel refused to comply with her demand, Ellie designated it herself as April second. She had found an astrology book on the road and had firmly decided that Joel was an aries, whatever that meant.
That had been a few months ago, and Joel has just been hoping his annoyingly persistent companion has forgotten about her declaration. But when he meets his brother the morning of April second for their usual patrol shift, he quickly realizes he will not be so lucky.
“So, I’m under strict orders to wish you happy birthday, brother.” Joel thinks briefly that he’d like to smack the shit-eating grin off Tommy’s face, instead settling for a scowl and a huff.
“Goddamnit, was hoping she’d forgotten about that.” Tommy snorts, slapping Joel hard on the back.
“You should know by now, Joel. That one’s just about as stubborn as you.”
…
When he gets back to town after his shift, the rest of the afternoon is spent painfully responding to awkward birthday wishes, all said with the caveat that Ellie had told them to do it. Joel could throttle the kid by the time he gets home.
As he goes to open the door, however, it’s immediately slammed shut in his face, Ellie huffing on the other side.
“You can’t come in yet, old man! Just hold your horses!” Joel scrubs a hand down his face.
“Ellie! I’m really not in the mood for this shit.”
“I don’t care! It’s your birthday and what I say goes! Now sit down on the porch, I’ll let you in when we’re ready.” He can’t believe this kid, but he’s a little too worn down to not heed her instructions. Besides, he tried the door again, and it seemed that she had slid a chair under the handle to keep it from budging. He settles into the rocking chair on the porch, closing his eyes for a spell, even dozing off in the cooling Spring night.
He’s rather rudely awakened by Ellie kicking at his boots.
“Hey! Time to come in, old man. Got a real surprise for ya.” Joel groans as he stands from his seat, stiffly getting pulled inside by Ellie who immediately comes behind him on tip toes to cup her hands over his eyes.
“Ellie, would you please–”
“Shut it and walk, old man. It’s a surprise.” He huffs, begrudgingly letting her lead him through the house towards what he guesses is the kitchen.
When Ellie finally peels her hands away from his face, Joel is shocked to see her standing there. The pretty, young neighbor who Joel sees teaching the kids in the makeshift schoolyard from time to time. They’d only shared passing conversation, he’d catch her sometimes out in the garden in her backyard in the evenings. She always offered him a wide smile when he’d say hello.
She’s holding what Joel realizes is a cake, or he guesses you could call it that. It’s a short, square little thing that they’ve stuck two, lit taper candles in. She’s smiling softly at him and he can’t take his eyes away from hers, a frozen moment of time. Ellie startles him when she shouts in his ear.
“Happy birthday, old man!” Whatever spell had been cast is now broken. Suddenly, Joel feels very overwhelmed and angry. He can’t quite figure out why, so he does the one thing that does make sense to him. He turns heel and stomps straight out the door, heading down the street and ignoring Ellie’s shouts of his name. It’s not his fucking birthday, and he’s sick of all this pretend shit.
…
He winds up down at the bar, and even though it’s not his birthday, he revives his old tradition of trying to drink himself under the table. He doesn’t get far though before his brother is sitting down across from him.
“Now tell me why Ellie showed up on my doorstep in a complete fit because some asshole fled his own damn birthday party.” Joel just sighs, hanging his head.
“Don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Nope, that doesn’t work for me. ‘Cause not only did you piss Ellie off, but I’m pretty sure you broke that sweet little thing’s heart.”
“I’d hardly call Ellie a sweet little–”
“Fuck, Joel. I’m not talking about Ellie.” He huffs her name, raising his eyebrows at his brother, and Joel’s stomach churns.
He hadn’t even been thinking about her, that shy smile she shared with him before he ran off. He thinks about the cake she had been balancing in her arms, that she had probably helped Ellie make it, put a lot of time and effort and resources into something he was too chickenshit to even acknowledge. Joel feels terrible, and he knows it’s not the booze talking. He brings his palms over his face, pressing his fingers lightly into his eyes, kneading at a quick-forming headache.
“Joel, no one’s saying you gotta enjoy your birthday. But I’m saying you gotta stop being a dick to people who are trying to care for you, man. Ellie may be a little… enthusiastic. But Christ, Joel, she loves you like a father.” Joel glances at Tommy, sighing.
“And that neighbor of yours. Well, if you can’t see a good thing when it’s right in front of you I’ll smack you around myself, maybe then you’ll see the way she looks at you.” Joel scoffs at that, shaking his head. He figures his brother is just trying to convince him to apologize to her. There’s no way in hell she’s actually been looking at him the way his brother is insinuating. She’s her, lovely and pretty and popular around town. And he’s him. Enough said.
“Alright, Tommy, alright. I’ll apologize to them, both. Just, fuck, get off my ass.” His brother smirks at him as Joel rises from the table. He’s had enough of people for the night.
“You better make it right, brother. And, hey, happy birthday you old shit.” Joel flips off his grinning brother, heading out into the darkening night towards home.
…
As he nears his home he sees that all the lights are off. Ellie must have stomped off to a friend’s house, too pissed at him to stick around. He’s going to have some serious apologizing to do tomorrow. The glowing ember of a cigarette catches his eye on the porch next door. He can see her silhouette in the faint glow of light coming from her house’s windows. She’s sitting, wrapped in a blanket, taking long drags and letting the smoke wisp out harshly.
He doesn’t know why, but his feet carry him over to her house, she tilts her head at him where he stands at the steps of her porch.
“Well, Ellie and I thought you may have skipped town, you looked so upset in that kitchen.” She blows a billow of smoke out the corner of her mouth, watching him carefully. Joel clears his throat.
“Don’t know why you smoke those. S’no good for you.” She scoffs, but stamps out the butt of her cigarette beneath her boot.
“S’that all you came over here to say? My own little public service announcement?” He shakes his head, swallowing hard.
“Want to apologize. For earlier. I just– fuck– I wasn’t expecting that. Didn’t really know how to react.” She sighs looking off just over the top of his head. Joel wishes she’d meet his eyes again.
“It’s ok, Joel. It was stupid, really. Ellie asked for my help, and I like that kid. Wanted to do something nice for you. But I see now that it was silly.” Joel steps up onto the porch, trying to get a better look at her downturned face.
“It wasn’t stupid. I was stupid. What you did was real nice. I just– I’m not used to–”
“Not being in constant life-threatening danger?” She quirks an eyebrow at him, he sighs. She scoots over on the bench seat, a silent invitation for him to join her. He does, sitting down with his elbows on his thighs, looking at her over his shoulder.
“I get it, really. I know that may be hard to believe. But I wasn’t always so lucky to be somewhere like Jackson.” She glances at him before looking back down at her hands in her lap.
“I had a little brother. Jack was his name. Back before, well before. He was only two years younger than me, and I never let him forget it. But damn I loved him. And he loved me. Every year, he insisted on being the one to make my birthday cake. And, Christ, they were bad. He’d get our mom to pick up the Betty Crocker mix from the store, you know? And the canned frosting. But he’d always manage to do something real weird to it.” She laughs lightly, but Joel can see the shimmer in her eyes.
“There was one year, he baked gummy worms into the cake. Fuck, it was so gross, the worms sort of melted into the batter so it was this sticky, rainbow mess. I told him it looked like a gnome had vomited on a platter.” Joel feels his mouth pulling up into a smile. She sighs.
“When I lost him… well, every year without him on that stupid day just reminds me that he’s gone.” She clears her throat before harshly swiping under her eyes.
“I don’t know why I told you all that. I guess just to say that I get it. And that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Just figured it’d be nice for someone to have a good birthday” Joel sits back on the bench, letting his arm rest along the top of the chair behind her.
“When is yours?” She finally turns and looks at him, furrowing her brow in confusion.
“Your birthday, when is it?” Her face softens.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” His mouth quirks at that and he nods.
She leans into his side, cupping her hand over his ear conspiratorially and whispers the date to him. Joel’s breath hitches at the close contact. He hums when she leans back.
“You know, today isn’t my birthday, not really.” Her eyes widen at him, he laughs softly.
“It’s really, uh, September twenty-sixth, you know, the day that everything–” she brings one of her hands to rest on his knee, giving it a light squeeze.
“Yeah, I know. Can’t say I blame you for choosing a new one.” He snorts at that.
“Oh, I didn’t choose it.” She clicks her tongue, nodding and huffing a laugh at that, muttering Ellie’s name under her breath. She gives his knee another squeeze.
“Well, your secret is safe with me so long as mine is safe with you.” He nods, bringing his hand to rest on top of hers. She flips her palm and entwines their fingers. A warmth breaks out in Joel’s chest at the way her thumb strokes the side of his hand.
“C’mon. It’s still your not-birthday and I left that cake in your kitchen. Better not let it go to waste.”
…
That’s how Joel finds himself sitting at his dining room table, on a day that’s not his birthday, as the prettiest lady in Jackson lights candles in the cake she’s put in front of him.
“I’m not gonna sing to you, seeing as it’s not really your birthday. But go ahead and blow out the candles, handsome.” He feels like he’s going to break out in hives under her gaze. He’d be hard pressed to admit that he’s really just blushing at her words. He complies with her order.
She offers him a fork before sitting down next to him, and they both dig into the pan. Joel’s pleasantly surprised at his first bite and she grins around her fork at his reaction.
“There’s no sprinkles or frosting, but I’d say Ellie and I did a pretty good job, given the circumstances of course.” Joel hums.
“I can’t believe you went through all that effort. Don’t know the last time I had something like this.” She waves his words away.
“It’s not a big deal. Besides, how else was I supposed to woo you?” Joel chokes on the bite of cake he just swallowed. She giggles as he regains his composure, only slightly.
“Woo me? You’re trying to woo me?” She shrugs, going a little shy in her glances at him.
“I thought I was being obvious. But you don’t exactly make it easy, Joel Miller.” Joel’s dumbstruck at her words. He sits back in his chair.
“Christ– I just– why would you want anything to do with me?” She huffs, setting her fork down and resting her chin in her palm.
“Well, now that you ask, I don’t know. You were kind of an asshole this afternoon.” His face goes slack at that but she just laughs. It makes his heart kick in his chest.
“I’m kidding, Joel. But yeah, I may have been harboring a little crush on you since you moved in here.” Joel’s still speechless, he feels like his brain has been jostled around in his skull. She breaks the silence with a big yawn, checking her watch as she stretches.
“Well, I’ll let you chew on that, in more ways than one. I better head home.” She’s already standing and walking towards his front door and Joel is a bumbling mess as he follows behind her. He keeps trying to start to say something, but all that comes out is a stammered “I– you– uh– well.”
He finally manages to spit something out, “thank you, for the, um, not-birthday cake, and for everything.” Her mouth turns up in a lopsided smile. Joel’s brain finally seems to be back online, and he continues.
“I, um, wouldn’t be opposed to that. To you wooing me.” She crosses her arms over her chest, stepping closer to him.
“Oh, you wouldn’t?” Joel shakes his head.
“No. Uh, consider me wooed.” He’s rewarded with a grin from her and he’s got that warm feeling in his chest again.
“Hmm, well in that case–” She steps in a bit closer, bringing her palms to his chest and lifting up to press a quick kiss to his lips. Joel freezes for a moment, but he snaps out of it quick enough to bring his hands to her hips, dipping in to chase after her lips for a deeper, longer kiss.
She pulls away first, a bubble of laughter, before leaning back in for a chaste peck. He presses his forehead to hers. What she says comes out in a whisper.
“Happy not-really-your-birthday, Joel Miller. I’ll see you later.” She’s slipping out of his grasp and out his front door, not before hollering back at him to save some of the cake for Ellie. Joel stands, staring dumbly at the door, running his fingers over his mouth, searching for remnants of their kiss.
He thinks to himself that this has been the best not-real-birthday he’s had in a very long time.
#joel miller angst#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller fluff#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#tlou
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Happy Birthday, Honey | Steve Harrington
It's Steve Harrington's Bday! Or at least according to Google it is, so here is a little bday fic about him. Also apparently, it was Joe Keery's Bday last week. So happy bday to him too.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Series Synopsis: Steve just wants to spend his birthday the same way he always does - no one knowing and all to himself. His girlfriend, on the other hand, has other ideas.
Warnings: fluff, established relationship
Click here to see my masterlist
April 29th was Steve Harrington’s least favorite day. Why? Because it's his birthday.
It was a day that plagued him since he was old enough to stay home alone. His parents were never there, off on business trips that left him alone for months at a time. They never remembered his birthday when they were home anyways and that always seemed to hurt more. Like a slap in the face from the only people that cared about him.
Tommy and Carol were the only ones from his old life that knew the day he was born. And even then, they didn’t do anything special for him. It wasn’t like he asked them to, they just never cared enough about him to celebrate. Steve would always make sure to throw a party for himself on that day. Not specifically for him, but just so he wasn’t spending another day alone.
He didn’t bother to tell Y/n or Dustin, or anyone in The Party for that matter. Partly because they never asked and partly because it never came up. But as the day was rounding the corner, he knew he couldn’t spend it alone. He asked for an extra shift at work and Y/n would be coming over later that night, two things that would help him survive another year.
He wouldn’t tell Y/n, that just felt unfair. A few months ago, when it was her birthday, he made sure to make it as special as he could. A nice restaurant, gifts from all their friends - he knew if he told her this last minute she would feel awful about it. And he never wanted to make her sad.
Well, there was always next year.
The morning of he woke up to his alarm blaring like it was any other day. And he was determined to make it such. Grabbing a bagel on his way out, he headed to work. He was surprised when he was the first one to make it to work that morning. The Max, and Robin were always sticklers for time. But both of them were nowhere in sight.
Trying not to think too much of it, he unlocked the front door and headed inside. The place had become very familiar to him after so many hours of work. He could point to a section of the shop and tell you exactly what tapes were stored there, and how much it would cost to rent them.
And by just one glance around the room, he could tell that Keith closed the night before. That was a relief for him, knowing that he didn’t have to look out for half-ass jobs of putting back tapes or an incomplete inventory. He just placed his bag in the back employee room before heading out to the register.
As he emerged from the employee common space, he was relieved to see that at least one of his co-workers had arrived. He sat down at the front desk as they came in.
“Hey, Harrington,” Max announced with a smile.
After moving to the trailer park, the young redhead thought it was about time she started to chip into her household. Plus she needed the money for a new skateboard.
“Mayfield,” Steve responded as he booted up the computer.
Max leaned across the counter, trying to look at the still-loading screen. “Did that old guy return the porno yet?”
“Nope, it’s officially two weeks late.”
“Damn! He’s really been going at it hasn’t he.”
Steve tried to conceal his chuckle. “I guess so… hey go put your stuff in the back I think there are still some tapes we need to rewind.”
She gave a nod before heading away. This was good. Everything was normal and he wouldn’t be alone. Just make it through the day and-
“Steve!”
He looked up to see Robin coming through the front door, a smile on her face. That was odd, she was never usually this chipper in the mornings. She ran over to him, engulfing him in a bug hug from behind.
“How’s your morning been?” she asked, still smiling.
He responded, “Uh, fine?” Cause how else do you respond to that? It was 9 o’clock in the morning. “What’s got you so jumpy?”
“Nothing! Can’t be excited to see my dear friend Steve?”
“Oh, you can, just not when you’re almost late to work.”
She rolled her eyes, pulling away from him. “Key word: almost.”
“Why were you late anyways? The doors are usually unlocked by the time I come in.”
Robin fell silent for a moment as she took out her book and placed it on the counter. Tuesdays weren’t usually busy so she would bring something to read to pass the time.
“I uh…had something I needed to take care of.”
“Care to share with the class?”
He watched as she paused for a moment before simply saying, “No.”
“Okay then,” he responded, turning back to the computer. “Then go help, Max, with the rewinds.”
Robin groaned as she chucked her bag over her shoulder. “You know, you’ve been a little bit bossier since getting promoted to manager.”
“I’d say more disciplined.”
Rolling her eyes she gathered her bag, ready to help David in the back. Steve sighed, hunching back into his seat. Yeah, just like any other day.
🎬🎬🎬
The shift at Family Video came and went just like any day, however, Robin was being more distant and smiley. Robin liked to have a good laugh but this much was just too uncommon for her. He spotted her whispering with Max a couple of times throughout the shift. But every time he approached them on the subject they pretended like it never happened.
As their shift came to a close, he decided he would give it one last try.
“Are you sure there’s nothing going on?” he asked her, stripping off his green work vest.
She shook her head. “Nothing! Just another completely normal day at work, right?”
“Sure.”
Steve watched as the next shift came in, Max walking out from the back to join them in leaving. “Well, that was a very unproductive day,” she told them.
The three of them walked out of the store, readjusting their shirts.
“Nothing you can do when you don’t have any customers,” Robin said back. “Max you’re giving me a ride right?”
“Wait Rob, I thought I was driving you home?” Steve said surprised.
“No uh, sorry forgot to tell you Max and I were gonna hang out.” She nudged her arm. “Right?”
“Yeah! Sorry, forgot to tell you,” Max responded quickly as she open the driver’s door of her car.
“You’re letting Max drive you?” Steve asked with widen-eyes. It was almost like he was having flashbacks to the night she almost crashed his BMW.
“Hey, I have my license now!” Max shouted at him but he just dismissed it with a wave of his hand.
Rolling her eyes, Robin said, “I’ll be fine. Would you rather have me driving her?”
“That’s a good point.”
“All right then.” Robin lowered herself into the passenger seat of Max’s car. She reached for the door handle. “See you tonight!”
“Tonight?”
“Tomorrow! I meant tomorrow. But uh… yeah see ya.”
Before Steve could question her further, both she and Mac climbed shut their doors. He sighed, watching as they drove off, leaving him alone in the parking lot.
“Hey there, hot stuff.”
Steve turned to find the voice calling out to him. He smiled when he saw his girlfriend in her car behind him.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, resting a hand on the top of her car. Y/n leaned out the window, crossing her arms. “I thought we were meeting up later.”
“Well, can you blame me? I miss my boyfriend. Come on, get in.”
“But I drove here.”
“We can grab your car later, come on!”
Not being able to resist, he walked around the other side and climbed in. He leaned over the center console, pulling her into a kiss before buckling his seat belt. “I’ll never get used to that.”
Blushing, Y/n put her car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. “You really know how to make a girl swoon huh?”
He shrugged. “I have my ways. So, why do I have the honor of seeing my girlfriend so early today?”
“I just figured instead of sitting in our separate houses for the next few hours before dinner we could see a movie. 8 Million Ways to Die came out a couple of days ago and I know how much you love those detective movies.”
“Hmm, you are right about that.” He swung an arm across the back of her seat. “Sure, the movie before dinner sounds great.”
🎬🎬🎬
“But it was noir how can it be funny?” Y/n asked, taking another bite of her food. Her plate was almost finished.
“It was a noir but it just had some funny moments in it like the warehouse confrontation? I mean it was just a little too quirky for my liking,” Steve responded, picking up his fork. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t like it!”
“Mmmhm, sure you did.”
“No, come on, babe I liked it,” he reassured her, reaching out a hand to touch hers. “Thank you for today, you don’t know how much it means to me.”
Y/n smiled but it faltered slightly as she pulled back her hand. “I-uh….”
Steve let his smile drop too, growing concerned by the second. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes! Everything is fine it’s just….I might have some idea of what today means to you.”
He felt his heart beat a little faster wondering what she could know. Oh no, did she know?
“I- what do you mean?” he asked.
“Honey, I know it’s your birthday.”
Steve felt his eyes widen, unable to form words on his lips. “H-how long have you known?”
“A couple of months….you just never bring it up I figured it was a sore subject.”
“Not really I just never make a big deal out of it. No one ever- I mean it never-“ He stumbled to find the right words to describe how he felt.
“Steve, you deserve to have a day where people appreciate you. Like the birthday you gave me? It was perfect, having all my friends there to celebrate with me. You deserve that, honey.”
“This day, just going to the movies and dinner with you? That’s enough for me.”
Not satisfied with that answer, Y/n shook her head. “Nope, come on, I got a surprise for you. She stood up, extending an arm to him. “Come on.”
“But the bill-“
“-has already been paid for.”
“You paid already?” he asked, reaching up to take her hand.
“Yep. That’s what happens when you’re the birthday boy. Gotta let others take care of you.”
“I don’t think I like this very much.”
“Well get used to it 'cause you deserve it.”
🎬🎬🎬
Steve was confused as they drove silently in Y/n’s car. The only sound came from the rumbling engine and the music playing very softly through the radio. The streets they passed looked familiar, almost too familiar. Wait, they were in Loch Nora.
“Are we driving to my house?” Steve asked, wondering what surprise could be waiting for him in his own home.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Y/n responded, keeping her eyes on the road, and a smile formed across her lips.
He reached forward, placing a hand on her thigh. “Come on, babe. Just tell me.”
Reaching down, she removed his hand. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere Harrington….at least not this time.”
Steve huffed as he leaned back in his seat, watching as the car turned down his street and into his driveway.
“So the surprise is at my house,” Steve nudged, getting out of the car.
Y/n walked to his side, taking his hand. “Oh my god, do you want an award or something?”
“No, but it’s nice validation.”
She smiled as they reached the front steps. He went to turn the handle but she stopped him. “Wait,” she began.
Steve turned to look at her. “Yeah?”
“Just-“ Pausing, she took a moment to re-orient him to face her, her hands dropping from the side of his arms. “I’m not gonna press you why you didn’t tell me about your birthday okay? But it is a special day, at least to me, and you deserve to be celebrated.”
Steve felt like he could melt at her words; slump into her arms and spend the day thinking about how lucky he was to have her. Instead, he leaned in, giving her a quick peck on the lips. It was a chaste kiss, but still passionate nonetheless.
As they pulled apart, Steve smiled. “What did I do to deserve you.”
“You didn’t have to do anything. I love you just the way you are.”
Stepping forward, she opened the front door. They stepped inside the dark foyer, Y/n moving quickly to turn on the lights.
As the lights shined through the room, Steve stepped back in shock. Everyone he cared about, the kids, Nancy and Jonathan, Robin, and even Hopper and Joyce stood in his living room. There was a big banner behind them, decorations, and balloons littered throughout the house.
At the sight of him, they all shouted, “Happy Birthday!!!”
Dustin had a bunch of party blowers in his mouth, making them all go off at once while Lucas threw confetti into the air. He watched as Max let go of some balloons that all floated to his ceiling. Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan were all holding a cake that sprawled a Happy Birthday message across the top.
It was everything he didn’t know he needed for his birthday.
He stumbled back in shock at the scene before him. He beamed at all of his friends who came to celebrate. After so many years of not having a birthday, of being ignored by the people closest to him, it felt like he was being heard.
He felt a tug on his sleeve as Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Happy Birthday, honey,” she said softly.
Steve grinned looking down at her. “Seriously what did I do to deserve you.”
He swooned for her as she giggled. He loved that giggle, it made his heart feel whole. Not being able to hold back, not caring that he was surrounded by all of his friends, he pulled her into a kiss.
Their lips connected into a familiar dance, filled with the warmth and comfort of everything before them. He could hear a whistling sound in the room, probably from Mike as Robin clapped and cheered for them.
As they broke the kiss, Dustin stepped forward, holding more party blowers in his hands. He yelled with excitement, “Now let’s get this party started!”
#fanfic#fluff#friends to lovers#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#joe keery#djo#steve harrington#dustin henderson#robin buckley#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#birthday
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Comfort, Despite the Storm
Ao3 link
Word count: ~4k
Warnings: None. Suck that old man's dick.
Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI! Clicking read more implies your consent.
Summary: Joel's neighbor (you) is the town archivist and brings him a present on his birthday (with a side of teasing). Later, after waking from his own nightmares, he finds you sleepless on your porch during a storm and you take comfort in one another.
Just a short little fluffy excuse to suck a tired Joel's dick and ride him, making him accept comfort when he naturally wants to rail against it.
No descriptions, specified age, or use of y/n, reader is afab, Joel calls you "girl" a few times.
“Happy birthday, neighbor,” he hears, and turns to peer back over his shoulder through the screen door.
Joel sees his neighbor, you, standing with an old tin in your hands. He remembers the Shroedinger’s- nature of those tins, always either full of cookies or sewing materials. He realizes belatedly he’s been standing too long, staring, his brain foggy from a night shift on the wall.
He doesn't even know your name, just that your call sign is Cricket. Something to do with your former life as a smuggler, just like him. He’s seen you around, mostly at the mess hall or the Tipsy Bison some evenings. He knows from Ellie that you work in the town’s little archive- slash- library.
“What?”
Your smile falters at the edges but you shake the tin at him anyway. “Ellie told me. Hell of a date to pick, by the way.”
He squints at you through a frown and finally opens the screen door. You thrust the tin at him again, and he takes it automatically. “I didn't pick it,” he says, barely paying attention, staring at the blue, flaking resin coating the cool metal clutched in his hand. He cracks it open and actually feels his mind stutter to a halt.
The tin is full of shortbread. Home-made and carefully tucked in with a scrap of absorbent cotton, the fork tines are slightly uneven down the line of each finger-sized bar. They smell like heaven. Something he hasn't had since half a lifetime ago. The mess hall has desserts, sure. Hell, they’d had pie the first damned day they were in Jackson. But it’s not something he chooses for himself, often. The abundance of food itself, the warm water and electricity and safety are creature comforts enough.
He rations out comfort for himself as a concept- afraid to get too reliant on it.
You interrupt his meandering thoughts by scoffing. “You don't say? I mean, I guess more what I mean is you didn't even lie and say another date? Anything but outbreak day?” you snort and watch him silently take in the small treat you brought over.
“Anyway. I bake, sometimes. When I can't sleep. And the fall storms lately have me wired,” you shrug. “But I’ll leave you be, I can see you just got back. Happy birthday,” you wave again and he snaps his head up.
“Uh, thanks,” he says, watching you already halfway out of his yard and back to your own.
Joel drops the tin on the countertop and lets the screen door snap shut. He draws out a shortbread finger and holds it between his teeth. The lid clanks as he slaps it back on and turns to lean against the counter. It crumbles on his tongue, the sugar and butter dissolving into nothing. Delicious. He savors it, wanting a cup of coffee to complete the picture more than anything else right now.
He knows that the second she gets home, Ellie's gonna eat half of them. For the first time in years, he considers (selfishly) hoarding them away, all for himself.
He doesn't.
He extracts another cookie, replaces the lid, writes DONT EAT THEM ALL on a scrap of paper, leaves it on top of the tin, and shuffles through the house to his bedroom.
Joel wakes up in a cold sweat, ears echoing from a twenty-odd year-old, phantom gunshot. He can still taste the metal on his tongue, the corner of his mouth and half his face torn from the flinch, holding Tommy's shotgun between his knees. He can still feel Sarah's dried blood still flaking on his forearms, caked into his shirt, the hollowness in his gut from crying himself numb.
He rolls to his back, there in the dark of his bedroom, and wills his breathing to even out. He listens, faintly hearing Ellie’s soft, open-mouthed snores across the hall. They ground him back in the present. He’s too wired to go back down so soon, so he rolls up out of bed with a stifled groan as his back and knees creak when he stands.
She leaves her door cracked, sometimes, and he stands in it, watching her sleep, carefree and mouth agape, with his forehead pressed to the door jamb, wishing he didn't have to leave his gun at the armory after a shift. The weight of it would help, he thinks.
He makes himself go downstairs, get a drink. He pours a finger of something amber in a glass and knocks it back.
The weather is pleasantly cool outside on his tacky skin, a fresh storm rolling in across the mountains. He goes out on the porch with the guitar in his fist, something to keep his hands from being idle.
He strums quietly, his left hand flat on the strings to choke it, hyper- aware of Ellie's cracked window above him. He doesn't want to wake her. She sleeps so soundly now- she deserves her rest. He’s protective of that stillness, for her. Even if it sits wrong on his own shoulders, bent from decades of wear and tear.
A light snicks on to his right; your kitchen window illuminating a stripe across the damp yard between your houses. He pauses and stares, watching you in the wide picture window above your sink. You fill a glass, drink it, refill it. You rub your forehead, the back of your neck, scowling out at a low peal of thunder. You don't seem to see him, which is fair. His own lights aren't on, and it’s not a full moon.
Thunder claps a bit louder on the tails of a thin stripe of lightning, streaking across the sky, raising the fine hairs on his forearms. He watches it spider across the dark clouds, blinding purple and white, and fizzle out, without ever touching the ground. You come out onto your own porch and he hears a low growl of irritation as you fiddle with something heavy. It makes his brow furrow- he doesn't think he’s ever heard you frustrated at anything.
The heavy thing drags a few inches, loud in the silence of the night, and he decides to speak up.
“Need a hand, neighbor?”
You gasp and something spills. “Fuck,” you gasp and turn to face him. “Didn't know I had an audience. What’d you say?”
Joel smothers a smirk at your annoyance and speaks up. “I asked if you need a hand?”
A pause. “Oh, uh. Sure? The swing came down in the wind from one of these storms, I guess.”
Joel sets the guitar down and steps over the low picket fence between your yard and his. Your porch swing is sitting on the wood on one side, off its ceiling hook. He squints up at the hook in the dark and sees it broken at the curve of the hook and needs to be replaced.
“‘s broken,” he comments. “I can try and fix it in the morning? Sure we have a hook somewhere in town.”
“Damn. Okay, thanks. You don't have to go to the trouble, though,” you say, dropping to sit on your stairs instead. You pat the space beside you and he hesitates for a long moment before he sits.
“‘s no trouble. Tommy’s farming me out as a handyman anyway. Might as well take the opportunity.”
Joel sits beside you with a soft grunt. He notices the small bottle of something yellowish dangling from your fingers and cocks a brow at it.
“Thunder woke me up. Figure a sip or two will put me back down, if this doesn't quit.” You lift your brows at the roiling, dark purple and black sky and roll your eyes. “Stupid, in this world, hating storms more than anything else. Leftover from the bombings, I think. A shell landed outside my house when they did it.” You offer an answer to the question he was unsure if he could (or would) ask.
Joel just nods and leans back on his palms, taking the bottle when you offer him a swig. He pulls a face and you snort at him. “‘s tequila, kind of. My family made liquor at home, eons ago. ‘Bout the only thing I was taught before everything went to shit. Every now and then I make a batch with my portion of the agave or honey. This one turned out okay,” you swirl the contents. “Storms bother you, too?”
“No,” Joel answers, stony-faced. He sees your eyebrow raise as your face turns away and chews on his lip. “My birthday does.”
“Ah,” you nod. “A lot was lost. Everything, really.” You can't know how accurate the statement is. He just nods and rubs the pad of this thumb over his fingertips.
“Never thought I'd see you in PJ’s, though,” you tweak the soft fabric at the outside of his knee and grin, breaking the moment of gravitas intentionally. “You seem like the jeans- and- commando type, is all.”
Joel frowns at you. “Commando?”
“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Something’s gotta be chafed, the way you stomp around all grumpy.” You giggle at his look of disbelief and, despite himself, he finds himself huffing a laugh.
“You’re somethin’ else.”
“Yeah, well.” You offer the drink again, and he swills it again. “Wanna come inside?”
Joel pauses on the pull, the glass sticking to his lips. He puts the bottle down and blinks at you. “You serious?”
You shrug. Goosebumps break out across your skin, and, a second later- lightning spiders across the sky. “You’re hot. And it might help us both go back to sleep.”
“You gotta be half my age,” he grunts, letting himself actually look. He takes over your features in the low-light, the hang of your unbound breasts under a thin rail shirt and little sleep shorts.
“I’m not. Just wear it better than you, you scraggly old fart. And I wasn't aware that age prevented attraction. Or orgasms. You can just say no, Joel,” you sigh, standing. “I have perfectly fine fingers.”
He blinks up at you, wheels turning in his head. He grabs your fingertips and pulls you between his knees. “I wasn't sayin’ no. If you’re sure, then I could use some uh- stress relief. It’s been a– a long time.” He forces himself not to think of Tess right now.
“Well then. Inside, and pants off, Miller.”
He huffs and stands with a groan, following you inside to the living room. You have a smaller house than the huge blue one he and Ellie have been allotted. Makes sense, being just you. You lead him to the couch and turn to face him. He can see down a short hall and into your open bedroom. Your bed is unmade, the covers pushed to the side so you could slink out of them after tossing and turning with the incoming storm.
The couch is more impersonal. It says he’s not staying the night. He doesn't want to- can’t anyway, not without alarming Ellie. He can't do that.
“Anything you don't want?” You ask, stepping close enough that your chest brushes his. He blinks down at you and shakes his head. He can't remember a woman ever asking him that.
“What about you?”
“Don’t pin me on my front unless I ask for it. Otherwise, fair game. I wanna suck your dick and ride you, though,” you say, batting your eyes just a little coquettishly, ending with a laugh at his expression. He hisses and grabs you by the hips when you tuck your fingertips under the waistband of his bottoms.
“Jesus, girl.”
“They call me Cricket, actually,” you wink, and tug your top off. Joel tries to keep watching your face, he really does. But your tits are a siren song, and he fails after only a few short minutes. He hasn't seen bare breasts in the flesh in a dog’s age, and he licks his lips with wanting to get his hands and mouth on yours. Instead, he mimics you and pulls his own shirt up and off.
Joel lets you prod him backward to the sofa and even tumbles down onto it obligingly. “God you’re fit,” you admire, and he preens just a little, glancing down at himself. His cock pulses under his cotton pajama pants, but he ignores it in favor of watching you kick off your shorts and climb over him to straddle his lap. You trace his jaw, down his strong neck and wide, heavy pecs, across the spread of his shoulders and down his ribs to his soft belly. It hitches under your fingertips, ticklish. You feel his cock prod up against the curve of your ass and grind backward on it, earning a groan.
“C’mere,” Joel rumbles, hooking a hand behind your neck to tug you down on him. You come easy, pressing all along his front. He pulls you straight to his mouth and you’re surprised at how soft his lips are. The lush give of your breasts against his chest makes him groan into your mouth when you open for him.
As much as he wants to be inside you, to rut to completion like an animal, Joel finds himself wholly taken by everything he’s feeling. He lets his free hand ghost up your spine, pressing you closer, feeling your miles of soft skin all along his overheated front.
“Wanna taste you,” he pants, trying to roll you under his weight. Instead, you pin his shoulder and stroke the tip of your tongue along the roof of his mouth, nipping his lip as you pull away; he chases you as far as he can. “Next time, big guy. I called dibs first.”
“Big guy?” He mutters, helpfully lifting his hips as you shimmy southward to the floor and take his pajama pants with you. His cock springs free, slapping up against his belly and leaving a smear of slick behind.
You curl your hand around him and lever it upright, bringing the weeping tip to your lips to plant a wet kiss there. Joel hisses and watches you, his dark eyes glittering with the lightning strike outside your windows. You drag your tongue up the underside, tasting the clean salt of him, and take him inside, pushing down until your throat starts to protest.
“Ohhhh, fuck, girl. Take it,” Joel groans, flexing his hips into your grip. You smirk around his girth and swallow. It squeezes his cockhead between your tonsils and he drops a hand in your hair. “Almost there, honey. Just a little more,” he urges. You pull off and spread your spit down to the heavy hang of his balls.
“I can do it,” you say proudly, and push yourself down again. It’s a squeeze, but your lips seal around the base, your nose buried in his thatch of wiry curls.
“Oh, shit. That’s it, good girl.”
You groan around him, letting him tip his hips up into you shallowly. One hand slides down your front to circle your clit, spreading the well of wetness dripping down onto your carpet.
“You touchin’ yourself?” Joel asks, his grip tightening a fraction when you hum in the affirmative. “Suckin’ cock gets you goin’ that much?”
You pull off with a wicked swirl up the underside of him that makes his hips twitch. You grin and lean back, showing him your soaked fingers. “Yeah. You gonna blow your load if I sit on this?” You tease, running a finger up the rib along the underside. His cock jolts at the touch, arching toward you and then falling back to his belly.
“I ain't a teenager,” he growls, reaching for you.
“Sure a shit aren't, old man, but touch- starved is touch- starved. I won't hold it against you, long as you help me come somehow.” you crawl up and settle back into Joel’s lap, knotting your fingers in his greying curls and pulling him back into a kiss. He grips your ass, kneading it, trailing his hands everywhere along your skin. He pulls his hips back and lifts you with his thumbs hooked on your hip bones, finding the right angle, and slides inside slowly, letting you feel the stretch of every inch.
On his lap, with the way he’s leaned back, your breasts are perfectly in his face. Joel pulls from your mouth with a smack and buries his nose between your soft swells of flesh, a hand sliding up your spine to pin you closer. He mouthes over one curve and snatches your nipple up between his teeth, worrying it with only a nip of pain before moving to the other side. You arch into his touch, gasping at the coolness of the air on your wet peak. It makes you clench around his cock, causing you both to moan at the snug fit.
You wrap a hand around the back of his head, keeping him close, and start to lift your hips. As his length glides out, every vein and his mushroomed head drags at your walls perfectly. It’s intoxicating, your nerves alight with so much sensation. Already the storm brewing outside is behind you, an afterthought. Joel nearly whines into your sternum and pulls on your hips, urging you back down.
You find a good rhythm and move one hand to the back of the sofa for balance, using it to lever yourself up and down, harder and harder until the sound of slapping flesh and ragged breaths is all you can hear. Joel claims your mouth roughly, groaning into your sealed-together lips when he slides his fingers down and swirls them over your clit. It makes you gasp and clench around him hard, dragging the tight fist of your cunt across his length over and over until he’s ready to explode.
He hasn't been ridden in – fuck, decades? At least, hasn't allowed himself the luxury of a passive fuck in ages. The fact that you're making him take it is– intoxicating. He’s already ready to blow and it’s hardly been any time at all. He wants to savor it.
“Joel,” your sharp tug against his scalp pulls his face up from where he nestled back between your tits. He blinks up at you, brain hazy and dick throbbing in the tight clutch of your core. You give him a breathless smile and push his head back to the sofa backing, kissing a line up his throat and over his scruffy chin to his panting mouth.
He feels like his strings are cut; like you are some sort of witch, using him as thoroughly as you are, and he can't possibly bring himself to mind not being the one calling the shots. His free hand has become loose on your thigh, simply taking the ride you're offering instead of guiding. You drop a kiss on his panting mouth and squeeze your core around him like a vice.
“Just feel it, sugar. Enjoy yourself. I am,” you lean back and ride the ridge of his knuckle, letting it catch your clit as you lift and drop a half dozen more times until your entire body clenches and he feels the first pulses if your orgasm around him and he– splinters.
“Oh–ffffff- off!” He grunts, yanking on your hips. You reach down and grip him, dropping onto the floor again to get your mouth around the tip. He throws his head back and curls his fingers into the sofa to avoid tearing at your hair as you swallow around him, tongue coaxing out his load with urging sucks. He ruts up into your mouth a few more times, jaw clenched and chest seizing as you keep sucking. His cock gives a wea kick in your tongue, drained and oversensitized, before you finally pull away and drop back into your heels, panting like you ran a marathon.
“Damn,” you sigh, spooling out by the sofa, leaning against his sweaty calf. Joel lays there a moment, catching his breath, feeling the nerves still fizzling in his thighs and fingertips and chest. Instead of offering a verbal response, he simply nods.
The thunder rolls again, but you're finally too tired to mind it much. You huff at it, annoyed and start picking up your pajamas from the floor. You toss Joel his pants and wink before disappearing into a bathroom.
He rights his pants, sticking his feet in the stupid loose cotton legs of them and drags them up, ignoring the stickiness and heavy hang of his cock in favor of retreating back to his own house now that you’re done with him. He holds his shirt for a moment, gathering his wits. He doesn't want to put it on and get come all over it.
A second later, you emerge with a damp rag and wipe down his come-streaked belly. “I could just about bite this pretty thing for days,” you comment, pinching his softness with a huff of a laugh out your nose. He frowns at you and glances down at himself.
“What?”
“This,” you run your hand over the soft swell of him again, lingering on the knotted scar on his side, “means you made it. You’re not starving, or on the run, or hurting. You have a warm house, and your little girl, and your brother, and food and rest when you need it. An invite for more sex when you want it,” you wink at him salaciously, and he frowns at you to stifle a snort of laughter. He takes your hand and drops a kiss on your palm before shrugging his shirt back on.
You follow him back to your porch, picking up the discarded, mostly- empty bottle of liquor, and wave when he turns at the fence to say goodnight.
You go back to bed, and sleep soundly through the storm.
Just over two months later, he turns up at the library while you’re documenting the latest Council vote for expanding the farming area another acre west.
You hear the bell jingle and glance up, marking your spot on the record ledger.
“Hey, stranger,” you greet. Joel nods at you and glances around. The records office is always empty, unless someone is there among the shelves to find a book to check out. Today, you’re the only one breathing in the dust.
“I need somethin’ for Ellie. Christmas, I guess,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. “She likes books. Space stuff, mostly. Got anything she hasn't read yet?”
“I know,” you chuckle and beckon him over. “And yes. I was squirreling this away for her next time she came in, but you can have it.” You produce a battered but complete copy of Savage Starlight Issue 12.
“Oh, shit,” he says, taking the tattered comic. “Don’t think she has this one. She’ll love it.”
You grin up at him and he offers a crooked smile back, tucking the comic carefully away in his jacket.
“I- uh. D’you-”
“If Santa wants to sneak in my chimney after he puts presents under your tree, I'll have coffee and shortbread waiting on him,” you nod sagely, and he can’t help but huff a laugh.
“Sounds like a nice Christmas Eve. Know where I can find a lump of coal in town?”
You gasp and slap his arm, making him actually laugh. “I find you coffee and that's what I get?”
“Best I can do,” he shrugs. You roll your eyes.
“Whatever, Miller. You can show me your best later,” you wink, and he tucks his chin, flushing around the ears like he does when you’re bold in public.
“I better go take a nap, then, hon.”
He steps back as the door jingles again, a few kids piling in to do their homework. You glance at the clock and see that school would have just let out.
“See ya?” He says, as if you hadn't just offered. You nod and he nods back, turning in his heel to flee the scene.
On Christmas, Ellie is delighted with her comic. You give Joel your spare key, and he comes over and shamelessly eats up your shortbread, and drinks all the coffee. Instead of coal, he hangs strong shutters on your windows to temper those stormy nights, and takes you to bed.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel the last of us#ellie the last of us#the last of us#reader insert#afab reader#no use of y/n#suck that old man's dick#joel is tired
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Chapter warnings: language, mild reference to self harm and SA, alcohol
Chapter Eighteen - extra scene
"Thought you weren't drinkin' tonight?" he said to you.
“I changed my mind,” you said and gave him a wink before following Maria and finding two empty stools up against the bar.
Joel ticked his jaw to the side as he watched you leave, finding it difficult to tear his eyes from you. He told himself he was being protective, but he knew deep down there was another reason. A more selfish reason. He watched as you lifted a glass filled with clear liquid to your lips and the wince that followed. It wasn't even sexual, but his body was reacting anyway. He swallowed roughly, trying to control his thoughts while his brother was sitting less than a foot away. Must be the whiskey.
“You got it bad, huh?” Tommy said. Joel expected his tone to be teasing but it was more sympathetic and understanding. He finally pulled his gaze from you to look at his brother, trying to decide how much to confide in him.
“Shit,” Joel said, taking a swig of whiskey. “She’s got me wrapped around her finger.”
Tommy laughed and clapped Joel on the back.
“Yeah, well, it’s about time. Told ya a year ago. I could see it all over your face, even back then.”
Joel winced as he remembered the fight you had, swirling the liquid around in his glass with his wrist.
“I almost fucked it up, Tommy. Thought I did fuck it up, actually,” he took another sip as Tommy leaned back in his chair. “I ran into her the night before my birthday. At a bar. We had both been drinkin’ and I guess it all just boiled over. Had me makin’ out with her outside the bar like I was a goddamn teenager.” Joel laughed softly at the memory, then looked back at you marveling at the string lights hanging above the bar.
“So, what happened?” Tommy pressed, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. Joel sighed.
“Asked her to come home with me, she said no, said she had been drinkin’ too much, which was a good call, and I knew it. But the next day I had this grand plan to get her alone and ask her out properly. Dinner, drinks, whatever she wanted to do,” Joel sighed again and rubbed his face in his hands.
“Right before she was comin’ up to my office, I saw her with some guy in the copy room. Looked like she was flirtin’ with him. Found out later the guy was gay and they were just messin’ around but I fuckin’ yelled at her. I had no right, and I made her cry. Called her a whore,” Joel downed the rest of his whiskey at the memory and Tommy signaled to Seth to bring over two more.
“Jesus, Joel. A whore? That’s harsh,” Tommy said in disbelief.
“I fuckin’ know that,” Joel seethed and his fist clenched. “It was just… the fuckin’ copy room.”
Tommy’s eyes widened in realization, then nodded.
“Right. Shit.”
“Anyway,” Joel continued, nodding his thanks to Seth for the drink and wrapping his hand around the glass. “That’s why she quit. That’s why I was runnin’ down the street after her when shit hit the fan. It was tense for a while, we never talked about it, til we did. Cleared the air and all that.” He took a sip and smiled against the glass as he remembered that night in the house when you finally hashed it all out and admitted your feelings for each other. “Ended up workin’ out, somehow. Don’t know what she sees in me but I ain’t complainin’.”
“Well, brother, you hold onto her for as long as she lets you. I could tell right away. Never saw you this happy in my life, even with Amy.”
Joel cringed at the name, and Tommy laughed.
“Oh, c'mon, it’s been years and I can’t even say her name?”
“There’s more,” Joel groaned, and took a healthy sip from his glass. “Turns out, Amy is alive and well in Kansas City. Found that out the very fuckin’ hard way while back.” Tommy’s jaw dropped.
“You’re fuckin’ kidding me,” he said.
“She’s runnin’ some fucked up community out there, whorin’ out the women to all the men like ration cards. Fuckin’… animals.” Joel squeezed his eyes shut as he rubbed his chest, breathing deep to keep the panic at bay.
Tommy grew silent as he started to connect the dots.
“And you brought her there.” Tommy said it as more of a statement rather than a question, and Joel gave him a tight nod.
“I didn’t know,” he choked out, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to hide the emotion in his face. “This one fucker, he cornered her in a closet, and- and I wasn’t there, I wasn’t there to protect her,” he jabbed his finger aggressively on the table as he stared at Tommy. “I fucked up again, Tommy. I thought she was gonna –“ Joel stopped himself from finishing his sentence, leaning back in the chair and raking his hand through his hair. “I thought I was gonna lose her.”
Tommy exhaled harshly and shook his head, absorbing the heaviness of the conversation and trying to find the right words to soothe his brother.
“But she didn’t, Joel. She’s here, and look at her,” Tommy pointed over to you and Maria at the bar and Joel looked up. Maria must have seen Tommy’s gesture because she caught his eye and you turned around. You looked at him with warmth and a small smile before turning back to Maria.
“She’s fine, Joel. She lived, and she’s happy, isn’t she?” Joel scoffed at the word fine.
“Yeah, took a long time, but she’s comin’ around. I can see the spark in her eyes again, she’s laughin’ and smilin’ all the time, especially since she got here. And Tommy,” Joel reached out a hand to place on his shoulder, blaming the alcohol for making him so uncharacteristically emotional in front of his brother. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for giving her this place.”
Tommy smiled and waved Joel’s hand off his shoulder.
“I didn’t make this place, she did,” he nodded in Maria’s direction, who was engrossed in conversation with you at the bar.
“Yeah, I suppose that's true,” Joel leaned back and took a sip of his drink, deciding it was time to pay Tommy back for all his teasing. “Seems as though you might be wrapped around her finger as well?” Joel raised an eyebrow at Tommy and he smirked.
“We kissed a few times, usually when we were drinkin’ but nothin’ more,” Tommy admitted, focusing on the liquid in his glass.
“Where’s the heartbreaker that used to tear through our office, chasin’ every skirt he saw?” Joel grinned as Tommy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Joel froze briefly when he saw out of the corner of his eye Maria gently lay her hand on top of yours, and he tensed, waiting for you to panic, but he was amazed to see you interlock your fingers with her own.
“I think those days are behind me, brother. She’s the only one I’ve got eyes for. Been that way for too long now,” Tommy admitted, a bit of sadness to his voice that brought Joel’s focus back to his brother.
“What’s the problem, then?” Joel pushed, nudging his knee against Tommy’s under the table.
“Ah, you know. I get a million excuses. Too busy, wants to keep it casual, all that. But for the first time, I don’t want somethin’ casual. I want somethin’ more, you know?”
Joel wanted to tease his brother some more, but he felt for him at that moment, relating all too well to his dilemma.
“Give it some time, she’ll come around. Hell, we got nothin’ but time now,” Joel chuckled, then tried to change the subject. “So anyway, tell me how the hell you ended up in Wyoming when you were supposed to be in California.”
Tommy began to regale Joel with his story about ending up in a QZ and meeting Seth and Maria when he saw you both heading towards his table, your arm slung through hers.
"I'm gonna head back," you told him, your arm still linked with Maria's. "I'm tired."
"Alright, I'll come with you," he said, flattening his palms against the table to stand, but you held your hand out.
"Why don't you stay with Tommy and catch up? Maria can walk me home," you turned to her with a smile that she returned.
He gave you a knowing look and cleared his throat.
"You sure?" he asked, clearly uneasy about you leaving his sight. You nodded.
"One hundred percent. Stay," you told him firmly, and he sat back down in his chair. "Spend time with your brother." Tommy shot you a grateful smile, but you missed it, trying to assure Joel through your gaze. "It's okay," you added softly, and he slowly nodded.
"I won't be long," he promised, and you waved him off.
"Take as much time as you want, I'm just going to fall asleep the minute I get back."
"Alright, then," Joel said, and you tossed him a wave as Maria pulled you towards the door and down the street.
Tommy chuckled as he downed the rest of his whiskey.
“Fall asleep the minute she gets back… doesn’t sound like you’re getting lucky tonight, brother.”
Tommy grabbed the empty glasses to bring to the bar, waving Seth down for another round as Joel groaned, rubbing his face in the palms of his hands.
Chapter Nineteen
Tag list: @chiogarza @sparklejumpropequeen-777 @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller series#joel x reader#joel x reader smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us game#the way we were joel miller fic
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I need you now - Modern!Tommy Shelby Imagine
Part 3 of Before he cheats - Based off of I Need You Now by Lady Antebellum
Requested - kinda - @jadesjam sent this as an idea for part 2 but I flipped and made it the third and final part of before he cheats! It hasn't been proofread so beware!
Enjoy! 🥰
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"No." I sighed for the upteenth time.
"Oh come on y/n, it's been weeks since all that shit with Tommy, it's about time you come and find yourself a rebound!" My longest friend Leah practically begged down the phone, her birthday was coming up and she'd been trying for the last hour to get me to go out for her pre-birthday bash.
"Le, you know I love you but I'm really not in the mood tonight, we'll do something in a couple days, okay?" I sighed, trying to find some middle ground so the conversation could end.
"Okay fine, but I'll hold you to that! Love you girl!" She cheered happily through the phone, my answer enough to stop the pestering, for now.
"Have fun babe, love you too!" I smiled before hanging up, the smile dropping from my face as soon as the beep sounds. "Guess it's just you and me." I whispered as I looked down at the shoebox in my lap.
Checking the time I couldn't help but laugh slightly at how the time had managed to get away from me, with the clock reading 1:04am I couldn't help but laugh slightly as I looked over the piles of photographs that were covering the floor. "Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor, reaching for the phone cause I can't fight it anymore." I sighed, picking one up and focusing on the smiling faces beaming back at me, it was from my 21st birthday around ten minutes after Tommy had officially asked me to be his. We were so happy, everyone was so happy that night, laughing and singing being the only thing to be heard throughout Small Heath that night as everybody celebrated their king finding his queen.
Putting the picture down I reached up to wipe the line tear that has slid down my cheek, sniffing quietly before I picked up another, this one of me and all of the Shelby siblings, Ada and John on one side with Tommy and Arthur the other, even at 16 years old and apparently seeing Greta, Tommy still has his arm round my shoulders, my head resting on his arm. Throwing the picture to the side I huffed as I rubbed my hands over my face, the thought of Greta leading me down a rabbit hole.
"I wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time." I spoke to myself, "Probably not, you've probably had a whole queue of women waiting for this to happen." My voice cracked as I said what I'd been thinking out loud for the first time. "Maybe I should just send a quick text..." I whispered, picking up my phone, opening Tommys contact I paused before starting to type.
It's 1am, I'm all alone and I need you now, I said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now.
Shaking my head I quickly deleted the message and locked my phone, throwing it onto the floor besides me. "Don't give him the satisfaction." I reminded myself with a sigh.
The loud shrill of phone made me shriek, my hand flying to my chest to try and soothe my racing heart. "Motherfuck." I breathed out, reaching over and seeing it's Leah calling.
"Hey Le, what's up?" I asked worried, knowing that she never called when she was out, unless there was a problem.
"Baaaaabe! You'll never guess where we are!" Her cheery voice burst through the phone making me wince slightly. "The garrison!" She squealed without waiting for an answer.
"That's great Leah, but I'm still not coming out tonight." I sighed, not understanding where she was going with this.
"Yeah, yeah, -- all depressed, I know, but I also know that lover -- is just as bad as -- are, if -- worse." She laughed through the phone, the music and voices in the background muffling half of her sentence.
"I can't hear you properly Le." I smiled slightly, her giggles infectious. "Le?" The beep of the phone indicated that she'd hung up. "What the hell was that about?" I muttered, my question answered two seconds later as my phone buzzed again.
I said that lover boy is even worse than you!
A message from Leah with an image of Tommy attached, say at the corner of the bar in the Garrison alone, his head in his hand as his other holds onto a glass of whisky - probably. Just from the zoomed out picture I could see his hair had been left to grow out and his shirt had been left untucked, something that had never happened before, in public anyway.
"Oh baby." I couldn't help but sigh, my heart breaking all over again at the picture.
---
Keeping my eyes down I swigged the last dribble of amber liquid from the glass raising it high before rapping it in the bar a couple times, a sign for the bartender to refill. Feeling the glass being moved from my fingertips I looked up, giving the bartender a nod of thanks as he slid the bow full glass back to me.
Another shot of whisky, can't stop staring at the door, wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before. Rubbing my hand over my face I clenched my eyes as I thought of her, the reason I'd been sat here for the past few weeks doing nothing but drinking whisky after whisky and chain smoking till my chest hurt. Looking over at her door I couldn't help but think back to y/n's 21st birthday, the day we became official, she had come barreling into the garrison with her windswept hair and rosy cheeks absolutely fuming because she thought that everyone had forgot her birthday before the shout of surprise had her forgetting she was ever mad. Shaking my head I couldn't help but wonder if I ever cross her mind, for me it happens all the time, every little thing reminding me of her.
"Fuck sake." I growled to myself, pulling out my phone to check the time. "Quarter past fucking one and I'm sat drinking by myself, again, Thomas Shelby the king of fucking Small Heath aye." I chuckled ironically. Not like I hadn't had plenty of offers during my evenings rotting away at my own bar, but none of them were her, none of them were my y/n.
My heart started to race slightly as I noticed the missed call notification only to drop again as Arthur's name came into view. She said she didn't want to hear from me but surely one text won't hurt, right?
It's 1:15 I'm a little drunk and I need you now, I said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now, and I don't know how I can do without - I just need you now
I'll be at the Garrison - T x
"Fucking pathetic Tom." I shook my head before locking the phone, not realising my thumb had already hit send.
----
1:17, it had taken all of 3 minutes to reach the Garrison, shoving my hands into my pocket so said as I stared up at the gold sign above the door, a door that I'd walked through so may times before but never feeling like this. I jumped slightly as my phone buzzed at the same time as a group of girls can tumbling out the door, laughing and stumbling down the road as they held onto each other for support, I couldn't help but laugh slightly before pushing open the doors.
Stepping through the doorways Leah and the girls immediately caught my eye, giving me a quick wave she grinned before pointing over to the bar my eyes immediately landing on the mop top of black hair and slumped shoulders in the corner. Sending her a quick smile I slowly made my way over to Tommy, hesitantly taking a seat on the stool next to him.
"Not interested." He muttered making me jump slightly.
"Meh, I like your brother more anyway." I shrugged, giggling slightly as his head shot up, eyes wide as he stared at me.
"Y/n.." He breathed out, reaching his hand out he placed his palm on my cheek almost as though he was checking I was really there. "Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry." He muttered, pulling me forwards slightly and resting his forehead against mine.
"Tommy I-" I took a breath, struggling to think clearly being this close to him after so much time, the longest we'd been apart since we'd met some ten years ago now. "I'm sorry too, I should've let you explain, should've listened to you." My voice wobbled slightly, pulling away I used my sleeve to wipe away the tears that had started to fall before resting my hand on his.
"I figured it would be easier to just finish things, after hearing about you and Gracie I just couldn't think of anything else... And I just lost it.. I dunno Tom. I guess I just, I guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all." I whispered, knowing that over the past few weeks that's exactly how I'd felt, nothing.
"Hey, don't you dare apologise, these past few weeks have been nothing but my fault, and I promise you y/n with everything I have and will ever have, I will spend every day of our future making it up to you. If you'll let me, just one last chance, please." He trailed off, his eyes on mine the whole time.
"One chance Tommy, that's all we have left." I whispered, my grip tightening around his wrist slightly.
"That's all I need." He smirked standing up and pulling me along with him, his arms wrapping around my waist and mine came up around his neck, playing with the longer hair at the nape of his neck. Pulling me in he placed his lips on mine, moving in sync I couldn't help but smile, the Tommy shaped hole in my heart slowly shrinking.
"I missed you so much." He mumbled after we pulled away, resting his chin on the the top of my head as he pulled me into a hug, completely ignoring the looks he was getting from the punters who had never even seen him smile before.
"I missed you too Tommy." I sighed happily, resting my head on his chest, sending a quick wink to Leah as she caught my eye, making her erupt into screams, much to the confusion of everyone else.
"So that's how you found me aye?" Tommy chuckled, the sound echoing through his chest.
"She helped yeah, but there was also the text you sent." I giggled slightly, as I head the faint 'shit' leave his lips. "It's okay Tommy, I love it when you're cheesy." I grinned, patting his chest as I looked up at him.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He chuckled as he shook his head. "I love you." He whispered, eyes locked onto mine.
"I love you too." I smiled, placing a quick peck to his lips before resting my head back against his chest. "Oh and Tom?" I muttered without looking up, only the slight hum letting me know he heard.
"I'm sorry about your car."
----
And there we have it! I know it's slightly shorter and I personally don't feel like this part is even nearly as good as the previous two, but hey, we move on!
Thank you for reading and I do hope you've enjoyed! 🥰❤️
#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders imagines#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby imagines#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby imagines#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#part three#before he cheats#before he cheats three
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This Time Around
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author’s note: I wasn’t gonna write anything for Joel’s birthday and then I took a shower and got all writery about it
Summary: “I’ll cry about this earth in heaven too.” — Marina Tsvetaeva, from Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922; “A Hero of Labor” aka a different September 26th [1.2k]
Warnings: grief (what’s new), talks of Outbreak Day, June being way too deep for tumblr dot gov
When your brain is done wading through the skeletons and sparks of rage from your past, Joel's breathing is the first thing you hear. You can tell he's awake. His breaths are just a little too close together for it to result from his circadian rhythm. You stretch to bring real feeling back into your body, replacing the weight of a gun in your hands with Joel's soft skin. When you blink your eyes open, the sun is barely peeking in through the curtains and reflecting off his graying strands. He looks beautiful. You smile and kiss his jaw, your hand resting on his cheek to keep him from scrambling away.
"Hi." He says, his voice fatigued, and rests a hand on your thigh.
"Hey," you say. "D'you get any sleep?"
"No." He swallows thickly, and you nod. He dreads his birthday every year. Seeing the date on the calendar makes him relive his final day with Sarah. He turns the events over and over again in his head like he's looking for an alternate outcome where he, Sarah, and Tommy make it out safely and together. Like if he stares at the anniversary hard enough, he can will it to change. In the few years since you've come to Jackson, he's been open to doing some things to celebrate his birthday, mostly to appease Ellie, but he always picks up a shift to keep his mind off it. However, Ed took over his patrol shift this year without asking him. When Joel interrogated him about it, he said, "Ain't no sense in leavin' your family if you don't have to."
Ed doesn't know the exact details of what you and Joel endured that night, but he can guess. It's probably similar to what he went through with his wife before she died. The rumor is that he was at work, and she was already gone by the time he made it home. Infected broke in the house, and there was nothing she could do to protect herself. It's why he's always taking shifts so others can go be with their families or friends. It's a thoughtful gesture, but the suddenly empty day made Joel anxious and quiet, something Charlie immediately noticed. You told her Daddy's birthday makes him sad sometimes, but can't find the words to explain what happened that night. Twenty years later and there's still no coherent way to talk about everything you lost in the blink of an eye.
It's still early. Charlie is still asleep. Ellie's offer to take care of her for the day still stands. You don't bombard him with questions about what he wants to do or what you should do today. There's no right way to mourn the way of life the world collectively lost and celebrate your husband simultaneously. You play with the messy curls at the nape of his neck and take a deep breath.
"We don't have to do anything. We can just… lay here. Pretend the world's not there. Whatever you want," you mumble. "I just want you to know I'm really happy you were born today." He doesn't say anything, but his jaw flexes, and you catch the tears sparkling in his eyes.
When Charlie wakes up, he puts on a brave face and offers to make her pancakes, pretending like today is just another day. Ellie, Dina, and JJ come over around lunchtime, and Ellie hides the tiny framed picture she drew of Joel holding JJ, yellow sunbeams lighting their faces like cherubs. It's rare that she uses color in her drawings. Then again, it's rare that Joel lets anyone acknowledge his birthday. It's special.
Tommy, Maria, and Camille come over, too, and the kids play in the backyard while the adults sit on the back porch with lemonade and a little bit of celebratory whiskey Tommy brought. You listen to the brothers exchange stories about growing up in Texas and their parents, something they never talk about, and laugh a little too hard at a story of a seventeen-year-old Joel getting caught climbing out of some cheerleader's window by her dad. At one point, Camille and Charlie climb the porch with a toddling JJ not far behind and a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in each tiny fist. Joel takes a shaky breath as he accepts the little beautiful things from the beautiful little girls. You can almost hear his thoughts running wild with accusations of not deserving the flowers, the girls, his family, and his life, and you put a hand on his arm to silence them.
"Thank you, honey." He manages to get out before pressing a kiss to each of their heads. Just like that, the kids are off again to run around and play silly made-up games together. There's a heavy moment of silence on the porch where no one knows exactly what to say. You raise your eyebrows at Joel, wordlessly offering him an out, and he shakes his head.
"Joel?" Dina finally speaks up, and he turns to look at her. "What was it like? Y'know… before?" She asks. Ellie turns her head to mumble something dismissive, but Joel stops her. To pretend like today isn't full of sadness and anger and regret is to strip it of its full meaning. Joel takes a breath as you squeeze his arm. The kids are giggling together in the grass, and the air is cool. You can smell the earth and the last batch of wildflowers pushing through the soil before it gets cold. There's not a cloud in the sky, the endless blue stretching out over the mountains and hills of Jackson. He smiles as the kids fall down after playing an aggressively fast game of Ring Around the Posie and finally looks back at Dina.
"Was a lot like this," he says. "Scary and dangerous and sad but… happy," you smile as he nods like he's just realizing this himself. "Even with all the shit, we were so goddamn happy."
"Sounds nice," Dina says.
"It was," he turns to look at you. "It is."
That night, after everyone has gone home or fallen asleep on your couch (Ellie and Charlie), Joel walks outside and stands under the stars. You don't follow him, but you watch him through the kitchen window. His head is tipped back, and he's searching the night sky for something. You remember looking up at the same sky twenty years ago with blood pouring out of your arm and Jane sleeping on your chest and wondering if life would ever be okay again. You didn't know your future husband was hundreds of miles away, wondering the same thing. You didn't know your second daughter would lose her mother under the same night sky six short years later. You'll never know how the earth keeps spinning despite the grief weighing it down or how the night sky looks the same no matter who was killed or born under it.
What you do know is that when Joel comes in with cold hands and tear-stained cheeks, you'll be there to hold him. You'll cry and grieve together in the kitchen you rebuilt for your family. You'll hold his hand the whole way up the stairs, tell him you love him, and fall asleep once his breathing evens out. You know you'll dance this dance and sing this song for as long as it takes for September 26th to feel a little bit less painful. It may take the rest of your life to achieve, but there are far worse things to fall victim to.
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha
#joel and sarah#joel miller x reader#joel miller series#joel miller the last of us#joel miller fic#joel miller and ellie williams#joel miller au#joel miller#the last of us#joel the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us series#the last of us au#tlou au#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x fem!reader#dad!joel miller
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